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vicocaaisha · 9 months ago

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The Arrangement

Baek Harin x Reader Fic.

Sypnosis: Because of your father's social status, you were forced to marry the one and only Baek Harin. What happens if Harin caught you meeting up in secret with her archenemy?

Warnings: SMUT, mature scenes, stalking, choking. If you're a minor, stay away!

Your father laughed at Harin’s offer while you scoffed at her antics. What a ridiculous offer you thought to yourself.

“I’ll give you my blessing to marry my only daughter, heiress of all my running business” You stared at your father with a look of disbelief on your eyes.

“What?!” was all the word that you could say that time as you process this crazy mess you’re ending up with.

Baek Harin, the princess of your class. You didn’t like her because of the game she created during your first year. Although you are in grade A, you still didn’t like the fact that your other classmates were being bullied because of their status in the class. But what can you do? You didn’t have the guts to protest that her game is crazy. Especially since your father is good friends and in partnership with her family.

“I was looking for you, why aren’t you eating?” Doah snapped you out of your thoughts. Doah is your bestfriend out of the fake friend group you have with Harin and Dayeon. You’re only in a friend group with them because of your dad being close friends with their parents also. You didn’t want to disappoint your dad; who’s always out of town or in abroad attending some business meeting.

“I’m just finishing reading this.” You answered in a quiet manner even though she knows that you’re just avoiding the bullying commotion during lunch.

“You know, you won’t ever beat me in a quiz bee so stop studying and eat with me.” Doah tried to joke, which made you laugh because her being a nonchalant and posed person sucked at delivering jokes.

“Nice hearing you making a joke, Doah. But I don’t have an appetite to eat.” You replied.

“I brought you an onigiri; I made it. Please eat it, you haven’t eaten today.” Doah gave you the onigiri and a chocolate drink before leaving the library room.

You were seated in silence as you opened the wrapped onigiri. You looked at your watch. 40 more minutes. You really hate that your classmates are getting bullied, and you just watch or sit in silence while they are suffering. You hated being a bystander.

“Y/N.” a voice came out of nowhere that shocked you. As you look towards the door, you see Harin standing wearing her designer cardigan or whatever, but she looks pretty– no– wait. Why are you thinking this way, even though she looks good her attitude is something else.

“What?” Honestly, you had a crush on her when you first met her through your dad attending some party of his friends. She was there, she was the one who offered you to transfer school so that you two can get closer but things have changed. You despise her for this hierarchy game.

“Come to my penthouse tonight. I’m hosting a dinner party tonight since Mr. Seo wanted us to gather..” Harin said in her usual monotone voice.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You rolled your eyes and just continued reading.

It was a mistake coming here.

Your father is such a social climber. You didn’t even want to partake in any of their conversation because as usual, Baek Harin is the star of night. They are always asking her how’s our friendship or whatever.

“If only I had a son, I would definitely ask him to marry you, but sadly all of us only have daughters.” Your father said with a disappointment evident in his voice. You’re aware that your father didn’t like you at all, that's why he’s always leaving you on your own. It’s because of you being open about not wanting to inherit all of the business he has all over the world.

“Y/N is pretty and kind. I like her and I think there’s nothing wrong with me marrying a girl, right dad?” Harin said, looking directly at her dad as if she’s staring right through his soul, which her dad only nodded to and you noticed his discomfort.

“Y/N and I are already close. Plus, this will benefit our company if I marry Y/N.” Harin said with a glint of mischief in her voice. You just scoffed, disliking the topic. You can’t do much anyway, you’re the only child of your father.

Your father laughed at Harin’s offer while you scoffed at her antics. What a ridiculous offer you thought to yourself.

“I’ll give you my blessing to marry my only daughter, heiress of all my running business” You stared at your father with a look of disbelief on your eyes.

“What?!” was all the word that you could say that time as you process this crazy mess you’re ending up with.

“That’s a good arrangement then. We’ll further discuss this when both of you finish high school.” Your father said happily and while you can’t even comprehend what’s happening. You can’t oppose your father's wishes because he might disown you; Harin knows that, and she’s pushing you to your limits.

It has been a week since that dinner happened. You haven’t talked to your father since, and you’ve been avoiding all three of your so-called friends. During that week, there was a transfer student in your class who also has been bothering you to help her since she’s in grade F. She must have sensed your guilt about all this crappy game.

Lately, you have been meeting her too. Outside of the school and during night time. You learned from Suji that she wants to take down the game and you liked that, but the thought of Harin learning that you’re backstabbing her, especially now that you’re “engaged” with her might cost you your father’s trust and his business.

Little did you know all of those secret meetings, someone has been eyeing you.

You had just finished talking to Suji about her plan on taking down the game. You were now walking towards your house, listening to music. You're living on your own because your father was out of town again. Since you’re hidden from the media that you are a famous business man’s daughter, your house doesn’t have a security guard at all.

“Y/N” someone called you from afar as you were unlocking the door of your house.

Your heart dropped when you saw Harin walking towards you. What is she doing here? Does she know what you have been doing behind her back? Is she stalking you? So many questions flooded your mind and all you could do was stare at her.

“What have you been doing these past few nights, my fiancee?” She asked, still walking towards you and taking a puff from her cigar.

You tried to gain your composure and crossed your arms, “Are you stalking me?” you asked bravely.

“Do you think I’m playing some dumb games with you, Y/N?” she laughed maniacally and she is now in front of you.

“Whatever you're saying, Harin. Go home and leave me alone.” You said before trying to get into your house but suddenly you got yanked out by Harin.

“Have you been cheating on me? With that school trash?” Her gripped on you tighten. Here’s the problem, Harin never treated you this way. Even if she’s getting Dayeon get beat up on purpose by her dad or Doah getting eliminated from her competitions because they are getting on her nerves. Harin has always tolerated your angsty behaviour towards her, but tonight she’s different.

She got you pinned against the wall, “Harin– No! It’s not what it looks like.” you said as you struggled against her hold.

You felt Harin blow a breath on your neck, which tickled you but aroused you the most.

“Y/N, do you think I’m some dumb mouse you can use for your father’s gain?” She whispered through your ears.

“H-harin, I’m sorry. Please let me go, I swear I’m g-going to stop meeting with Suji.” You said as you were trembling.

“Will your father be happy once he learned what you were doing behind my back, my dear fiancee?” God, you are now regretting everything you’ve done. You should have stayed quiet, maybe, just maybe, your father’s hard work isn’t on the line.

“No– I swear, Harin! I’ll do everything, please!” You pleaded.

“Everything?” Harin was now eyeing you up and down, but you didn’t notice as your eyes were shut because of fear.

“Yes! Please, H-harin, forgive me.” That was all it took for Harin to kiss you. You can’t process what’s happening and all you could do was to moan, a loud one, when she kneed your core.

All of the pleasure you were feeling from riding her thigh were soon to be gone when she let go of you. You were out of breath, head feeling dizzy from what’s happening. You hated her guts and yet you’re here yearning for her touch? What has gone into your mind, you wondered.

“Your room. Now.” A demanding tone was all you heard that made you run into your room.

Anticipation and the ache at your core were all you felt while she was undressing you on your bed. You can’t contain your whimpers anymore every time she kissed a part of your skin, you were very sensitive.

“H-harin, I haven’t done this before…” You confessed with a sheepish smile as if she could see you in your room having the moonlight as your source of light.

“Even better.” was all she said before diving right to your buzzing core. Soft whimpers were coming right out of you, you’re trying to suppress your moans because of not being sure whether your maids are sleeping in or not.

She was marking you all over your neck, she might have felt the sense of owning you when you’re all marked up. She was thinking when you’re coming to class and Suji sees you with all of the hickeys she has given you, her jealousy is long gone now. She is your first and she wanted it to be your last.

Suddenly, without a warning Harin inserts a knuckle deep inside you. You gasp in pain, it definitely is your first time, and it doesn’t help that she has long fingers. All of this sensation is new to you because, hell, you didn’t even touch yourself before. You just ignored the feeling of arousal whenever you felt it.

“Feeling good?” You heard her say, but you only wince as she added another digit into your pussy. You can’t contain your moans anymore, which you tried to block by putting your left hand over your mouth.

She noticed it, she removed your hand and pinned both of your hands swiftly, “Let me hear it, baby.” was all you heard before moaning her name loud. The pain subsided and all you feel is pleasure.

“You’re so tight, love.” Harin is now staring at your fucked up face.

“A-hh! Mommy! R–ooh, right there!” You didn’t even notice that you let that word out of your mouth, either way, Harin liked it.

She held your waist tightly as she added another finger on your pussy. She is now getting rougher with you, with lust and jealousy she felt when she saw you secretly meeting up with that Suji girl.

“Were you asking Suji to fuck you like this? Do you think she can fuck you like this?” God, you didn’t even see Suji that way, you were just busy taking revenge on your so-called fiancee. You were so busy losing your mind with pleasure that you forgot to answer her question, and instead, she squeezed your throat and with that you were gasping for air.

“Answer me, Y/N-ah,” She was now fingering you faster and you felt like you’re going to pee or something.

“No! I only want you, m-mommy!” Satisfied with your answer, she rubbed your pussy as she felt you clenching on her fingers. She knew, you’re near from finishing.

“A–ah! Stop, please! I feel like I’m going to pee! Oooh!” But she didn’t stop and whispered, “That’s okay, love. Just let it go.”

Harin hits a spot that makes you climax. You held onto her clothes tight as you were cumming on her fingers. You can’t control the sounds you’re making anymore and you just sound incoherent. Harin hushes you and kisses you as she removes her fingers after your body relaxes.

Harin opened the night lamp beside your bed. You were almost knocked out. Your face being puffy and red, your messy hair, and hickeys all around your neck, Harin felt like she owns you now.

“I love you, Y/N. You’re mine and mine only.”

Hope you guys liked it!! First time writing a smut, lol. Please request! I'd like to practice my writing for school. I'll also do other characters from pyramid game!

#jang daah #baek harin #pyramid game #sung suji #pyramid game x reader #baek harin x reader #jang daah x reader #seo doah

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sanguniemcordis · 1 month ago

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some kyle garrick roommate headcanons to get my blood flowing

roommate!kyle garrick x fem!reader (fluff)

cw: alcohol, pretty much that.

• wasn’t expecting a girl when he put the ad out, but when he saw you he couldn’t complain

• but you needed somewhere to stay and honestly a man wasn’t your favorite pick either but what can ya do

• gives you the bigger room without telling you (literally switches over the couple days that he has before you move in)

• definitely under charges you for rent

• the apartment is bare because he’s never home for very long so he just tells you to decorate how you want

• helps you bring all your things up, happily takes pizza as payment

• kyle is nice. he’s funny, clever, not bad on the eyes

• he turns out to be a really nice roommate

• shares his food because he never knows when he’s leaving so it’s all up for grabs

•sings loudly and BADLY in the shower

• watches nature documentaries like 9 out of 10 times you see him on the couch (the other 1 time is soccer football)

• also probably falls asleep to them but then complains when he wakes up and you’ve turned something else on (“hey, i was watching that..”)

• scarily quiet sleeper due to his job, barely moves either

• but terrifyingly easy to wake up, even if you take a step within 10 feet of him his eyes open

• sometimes leaves the toilet seat up

• if you leave your bra in the dryer he puts it on over his shirt and waits for your return OR goes into your room, strikes a pose then leaves (you have to chase him to get it back)

• listen. it’s not that he thinks women are weak, not in the slightest, it’s that he knows men are crazy, so don’t even think about leaving at night

• seriously, don’t (one time you didn’t tell him and he thought you had been kidnapped)

• if you go out with your friends, expect he’s up waiting but not in an obvious way, but pretending he’s been watching another movie

• he makes a mean hangover breakfast

• he also has a very specific routine for shutting down the house and locking the doors or windows to make sure its secure

• makes too much food and gets offended when you don’t eat it all

• and if you have a potential partner or date over, he’s interrogating them, but in an unsuspicious way, one that seems friendly at first then goes south

• (“so you were just dating your ex only three months ago, you posted a picture on instagram with them and yet you already moved on?” “KYLE!” what? i was just asking a question!” “how did you even find their instagram?!”)

• kyle who for some reason hates every single person you bring home

• kyle who used to have a few regular fwb but slowly got rid of all of them

• kyle who started tagging along on night outs, casually stating he was bored

• then hes paying for several rounds but only having a drink or two, and yes, he’s forcing you to have water

• yes he takes you to get food when you’re drunk and begging

• then suddenly he starts suggesting activities for you guys to do together, puzzles… walks… restaurants… a pottery studio (“come on, it’d be fun!” “kyle have you ever done pottery?” “no! but it’d be fun, yeah?)

• kyle who starts to get just a little more touchy, starting small. i’m talking lower back touches, hugs, finger tips brushing over your bicep, grasping your wrist, even playing with a ring you had just bought

• eyes lingering on you longer and longer

• and just as the tension is bubbling, he’s gone.

• for months and the entire time he’s unable to focus entirely on his mission, part of his mind always going back to you, are you okay? are you warm? are you eating?

• and you’re in the same boat, wondering if hes eating, drinking, sleeping okay. if he’s coming home, when he’s coming home

• kyle who is only able to call you once and it’s the best fifteen minutes of his life

• whenever he comes home he always quietly checks on you, peeking his head in.

• is loud when he comes home sometimes, which is an accident, but it’s a welcome disruption because you know he’s safe. one time he was because he couldn’t bend over to get his jeans off and he woke you up, but it was welcomed help

• then after the jeans incident would be the first time you guys ever sleep together is when he found you up after coming home late. you made him food, turned on the tv and watched a movie on the couch

• the next morning you wake up first, curled up towards him, a crick in your neck and legs hanging off the couch

• kyle is turned towards you, plate nearly finished on his lap and arms crossed, head nodding forward

• then comes the weird limbo..

• because kyle is definitely touchier, sweeter SOMEHOW

• starts to sprinkle in some affection (“hand me that, love, would you, the best thank you,” “okay darling, i’ll get my shoes-“ “i’m just going to the corner-,” “no it’s fine, i need some fresh air.”)

• gets “strangely” protective whenever you’re in public and a guy approaches, even if he was across the store he’s by your side in an instant. (“sorry babe, whose this?” “kyl-,” “y’know i saw some of your favorite wine on sale, grab a bottle or two?”)

• speaking of wine, kyle LOVES wine night. props his feet up, pours you both a hefty glass of wine and turns on whatever guilty pleasure you both have

• (right now its 90 day fiancé)

• when he gets wine tipsy thats when he gets clingy, shuffling closer and closer until he rests his head on your shoulder, thighs pressing together.

• “he doesn’t love her,” kyle will mutter, discontent with the man on the show “how do you know that?” “because i do.”

• kyle who ends the night holding you, because hes clung his arms around you then managed to wiggle the pair of you together

• kyle, who even after you fall asleep stays up, unable to move because this just feels so right and like it was supposed to always be this way

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #roommate!kyle garrick #roommate!gaze #cod mw3 #gaz x reader #call of duty

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mythica0 · 12 days ago

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Rewarding revenge

🎂: epic the musical

🧁: Hermes

🍫:Odysseus

Summary: Hermes has tickled Odysseus one too many times for his liking. Time for a little payback.

A/N; thank you to the anon who gave me this idea! If you see this I hope it’s to your liking! I’m not super proud of the ending but whatever. Also, yay, more shameless lee Hermes! Enjoooyyy :3

Cw: mild swearing, really intense tickles! (But don’t worry, he enjoys every second of it.)

Rewarding revenge

It was another day on the ship, and Odysseus was thinking.

He had just had another interaction with Hermes a few days prior, and like he usually did, Hermes had decided to tickle the shit out of him.

While he didn’t.. hate it.. it was still annoying, and he wanted a bit of revenge.

So, he sent up a hopefully non-conspicuous prayer to summon Hermes.

When Hermes got the message, simply asking to hang out, he was definitely suspicious, but also amused and endlessly curious. So, he decided to go. Might be fun, after all! And Hermes is always up for some fun.

So, later that evening, when Odysseus was spending some time in his room, Hermes appeared.

“Hey, friend! I got your little prayer!”

Odysseus was honestly a little shocked that worked. He sat up in his bed, gently patting the space next to him.

“Ah, Hermes! Come, sit!”

Hermes smiled brightly and sat next to the soldier. “Well, how do you do?”

“Ah, I’m well. You?”

“I’m good as well! I must say, it’s not often I get a request just to hang out! I’m quite delighted you wished to spend time with me!”

Odysseus chuckled a bit. “Ah, well, you’ve been nice to me, and you’re pleasant enough company.”

“I know I am, thanks for noticing!” Hermes winked, playfully posing in a showy manner.

Odysseus laughed. He had summoned Hermes for ulterior motives, but he actually was quite funny.

He scooted a little closer, hoping Hermes wouldn’t notice. Hermes did notice, but he pretended he didn’t. He was curious! Wanted to see where this was going.

“So, what did you want to talk about, friend?” Hermes asked, still grinning.

“Ah, nothing in particular. Just whatever comes to mind.”

“I see, just a causal chat! Always love one of those- I’m quite the conversationalist!”

The joking remark got another laugh out of Odysseus, which caused Hermes to grin proudly. He was always happy to make someone laugh.

“That you are.” Odysseus got a little closer again.

“did you have free time to come down here? Or are you skipping out on your duties?” Ody asked, a playfully teasing tone to his voice.

“Hmm, not telling~” Hermes shrugged and then sing-songed in response.

Odysseus laughed again. “So you are skipping out? I mean, I imagine you’re quite the busy god, with all the various domains you have.”

“True! But I’m also quite speedy, don’t you forget! Nah, I had some time.” Hermes revealed with a laugh if his own.

“Ah, well that’s good. Wouldn’t want to distract you from your job, now would we?”

“That we would not.” Hermes laughed again, his little squeaky giggle.

Odysseus posed a question, seemingly out of nowhere. “So, Hermes- do you like to laugh?”

Hermes seemed a little surprised at the sudden question, but answered nonetheless. He had a feeling this might be why he was actually summoned.

“Why, of course I do! Who doesn’t?”

“Ah, that’s good. Let me help you with that!” Without any further warning, the captain snapped his arms around the god and started to scribble against his ribs.

Hermes immediately bursted into happy giggles, not trying to hold back in the least.

“Ehehehe- Ohohody! Ahahaha!” He called a bit, squirming slightly.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take what you dish out?”

“Ehehehehehaha! Ohoho, thahat tihihickles! Ehehehe!” Hermes giggles were bubbly and almost childish in nature, such a purely joyful sound that it made Odysseus laugh along with it.

“Ha! It’s about time I got a little payback!”

Hermes could easily get out of this. Easily. He was very powerful, after all. But he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. But. He wanted to see if Ody could figure it out on his own.

“So, how’s it feel to be on the other end, huh?”

“Tihihickly!” Hermes snarked, an obvious statement, for amusement. It worked as intended, getting a small amused huff from Odysseus.

“Well no shit, Sherlock. That’s the point.”

To accentuate his words, Odysseus moved his hands to Hermes’ tummy, starting to press lightly on the surface.

Hermes giggles immediately increased in pitch, such a joyful, silly, sugar-sweet sound that Odysseus couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Eeehahahahaha ohoho nohoho, dohohont doho thahat- ehehehehehe!”

“You know, you could probably escape easily if you really wanted to.” Odysseus commented, successfully realizing the thing Hermes wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Ihihi knohow! Ehehehehe!”

“So, why aren’t you? Do you perhaps like this?”

Hermes nodded, gleeful and giddy as he laughed. “Yehehehehes! Ehehahahahaha-! Tohook yohou lohong ehenohough toho fihigure ohout!” Hermes teased slightly, never one to hold his tongue.

“Oh, really? Are you in any position to give me sass?” Odysseus teased, getting far more into the role now that he knew his friend was enjoying it. He pressed down harder, vibrating clawed hands into Hermes’ stomach.

Hermes squealed, a bouncy, bubbly laugh falling freely from his chest. “Eeee! Ahahahaha thahahat reheheally tihihickles ehehehehehe!”

“Good. Maybe that’ll teach you not to sass me.” Odysseus didn’t let up, still pressing vibrating claws into the god’s belly, making him laugh giddily, his wings flapping slightly.

Odysseus’ eyes followed the motion of the white feathers, and he smirked. He took one hand and moved it up, grabbing one of the wings behind his ears and starting to rub the feathers in between his fingers.

Hermes squealed, a high pitched laugh leaving him. “EEEE! NOHOHOHO-! NOHOHOT THEHE WIHINGS!”

“Oh? Not the wings? Not these little wings right here?” Seeing how horribly it tickled the god, Odysseus brought up his other hand to grab the matching wing in the other side and do the same thing.

Hermes was completely lost to his laughter, chest and stomach shaking from the force of it as small tears formed in his eyes. That tickled so! Bad!

“EEEHAHAHA PLEHEHEASE, OHOHODYYY!” His laughter was squeaky and happy, and Odysseus found that it got more and more contagious the longer it went on, not being able to stop himself from laughing along.

“Hehe, that’s a pretty contagious laugh you’ve got there.”

Hermes was too busy laughing and squirming to reply, his sanity starting to slip in the best way from the ticklish sensation. It was driving him mad, unrelenting tingles racing across his wings and causing fluttering laughter to swarm in his belly.

“What’s wrong? Too ticklish to speak?” Odysseus emphasized the word with a teasing lilt, causing a slight blush to form on Hermes’ face.

The room was filled with the happy, bubbly giggles of the god of messages, squealing laughter echoing from him as his very sensitive wings were assaulted with happy, tingly sensations.

“EEE OHODY PLEHEHEHEASEE!” He begged through his loud, squeaky laughter, only partially true. Because he could probably get away if he really wanted to, although it might be harder considering how weak he was from laughter.

Odysseus just chuckled. “Tickle tickle tickle~” he spoke with a teasing lilt, and he could swear that Hermes squeaked at the words.

Hermes was overwhelmed but at the same time so happy. The tickles were driving him crazy and he didn’t even care, because it was so much fun, sending waves of pure joy through him with every wheezing laugh, every contraction of the muscles in his tummy and sides. Tears of joy had fallen at the point, trailing past the shaded boundary from his helmet.

“EEHAHAHA OHODY PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAP! EHEHEHEHEE!”

“I don’t know.. you tickled me first. Twice.”

“IHIM SOHORRRYYY PLEHEHEHEASEE!”

He was absolutely hysterical with laughter, face starting to hurt from being stretched into such a wide smile for so long. His thoughts were so foggy, his brain thoroughly turned to mush from happiness that he couldn’t even think straight enough to use his powers to get away. He loved it so much but at the same time he couldn’t take anymore!

Sensing that Hermes was getting a little overwhelmed, Odysseus decided to give him a small breather, just lightly tapping against his hips to keep him giggling.

Hermes took the chance to greedily take in air, letting his warm face cool down.

“Hehehehehe.. ohoho myhy gohods.. ehehehe- thahat wahahas aha lohot.”

“Oh, did you think we were done? Oh no no no, I don’t plan on stopping any time soon. I want you to be an absolute puddle of laughter by the time I’m through.”

Hermes eyes sparkled with excitement, hidden by the shade of his helmet, a few giddy giggles falling from him. He was honestly excited by the idea, even though he had just been wrecked within an inch of his life, he still wanted more.

Ody smirked as he saw the excitement ripple through the god of speed. “Oh, what was that~? Did that excite you?”

Hermes nodded, still unashamed for his love of being tickled.

Odysseus chuckled in response, before responding with a teasing lilt that caused more giddy butterflies to flutter within Hermes, making him giggle more than he already was from the light taps on his hips.

“Any last words before I make you hysterical again~?”

Hermes thought for a moment, before shaking his head, eager to get on with it.

Odysseus nodded and then started with kneading his tummy, making him burst into giddy laughter immediately.

“Ahahahahahaha! YohOU ahahare reheheally gohood ahat thahahat- EE!” He complained and complimented at the same time, half protesting but not really meaning a word of it.

“Oh, why thank you!” He grinned smugly, and then, just to be evil, he moved his hands to attack Hermes’ underarms and started to blow raspberries all over his belly.

“OHOHO NOHO- EEE! Dohohont dohoho THahahAT-!”

Odysseus felt his inner father emerging, putting on a sort of playful act and making silly noises as he blew raspberry after raspberry onto the messenger’s tummy, using his beard to add an extra layer of ticklishness.

“Omnomnom! This belly is really tasty!” He made little growling and nomming sounds, which made Hermes laugh even harder from amusement at the silly act.

Hermes was absolutely hysterical with laughter, kicking his feet slightly to try and expel the intense giddy energy rippling through him. Each raspberry sent waves of laughter and tingles across his belly, and it didn’t go away. It lingered, and then layered with each new raspberry or nibble, growing more and more ticklish as time went on. Hermes was crying with laughter and happiness, the feeling so intense and so amazing.

He squeaked and squealed as Odysseus blew a raspberry on his lower tummy, then on each side, then right over his bellybutton, then on his ribs, all over his torso, leaving waves upon waves of giddy tingles.

“AHahahahahHEHA! Ihihit tihihickles sohoho BaHAD EhehehehEHEHAHA!” His chest and stomach were shaking and bouncing from his laughter, the wide, giddy smile never leaving his face, his genuine happiness being contagious to Odysseus.

Odysseus chuckled as well, unable to stop himself at hearing the silly, contagious sound of Hermes’ laughter. He decided to lower the intensity for a bit, moving his hands down to start scribbling behind his knees.

Hermes kicked slightly on instinct, but he didn’t try to truly escape. His hysterical, squeaky laughter died down to giggles again, allowing him to take in air.

“Ehehehehe ohoho myhyhy! Ehehe- ihihi cahahant breheheathe- hoholy moholy..” Hermes breathed out through his giggles, taking in breaths and still feeling so giddy.

Odysseus gave him a chance to breathe for a moment, wiggling his fingers behind his knees and tracing around his ankles, before managing to pry his sandals away from his feet slightly, and scratching gently at the soles.

Hermes giggles increased, not nearly as hysterical as it was earlier, but definitely more than it was from the more gentle tracing.

“EhHahHaha ohohohody plehehehease! Ehehehehe!”

“Oh, come on. We both know you don’t actually want me to stop.”

Hermes nodded again. He really didn’t. He protested, yes, but he didn’t mean any of it. It was only instinct, the natural reaction to such intense tickles, even though he enjoyed every second.

After a few more moments, Ody smirked and turned to look at Hermes, speaking with a teasing, taunting tone.

“I’m gonna get your wings~” he sing-songed, scratching at the edge of his ankle, right before where the wings met.

Hermes frantically protested, a giddy nervousness filling his chest and stomach. “Nonononohoho!”

“Yes yes yes~ these soft, little wings are gonna get tickled~”

A faint blush dusted Hermes’ face at the teasing words, so many butterflies and zaps of giddy, nervous excitement rushing through him as the anticipation drove him up the wall.

“Are you ready~”

“Nohoho!” Hermes protested again, even though he would much rather the soldier get it over with rather than deal with this anticipation.

Odysseus smirked again, responding instantly and with a faux lack of sympathy. “Too bad.”

Without any pause, he grabbed each wing on one leg and started to scribble against the feathers, scratching at the base of the wings.

Hermes was once again immediately thrown into heavy , hysterical laughter. “EEHAHAHA! OHOHO MYHYHY GOHODS- NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! EEEE!”

Odysseus chuckled again, the contagious laughter fully infecting him. “Oh my, quite ticklish here, are we~?”

Hermes blushed a bit more at the teasing, the fluster only adding to the ticklish experience, if you asked him.

His free wings on the other ankle flapped frantically, drawing the king’s attention.

“Well, would you look at that. It seems like your left set of wings is feeling a little left out.”

“NohOhOHO-! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

“Please tickle your other wings? Why of course!” He taunted, switching sides.

He once again pinched and rubbed the feathers in between his fingers, making Hermes toss his head back as fits of laughter racked his whole body.

He got such an evil thought just then, leaning to one of the wings being his ears and blowing a huge raspberry right on it.

Hermes squealed with laughter once again, absolutely hysterical as mirthful tears dampened his face.

“NOHOHO- EEEEEHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHI CAHAHANT HOHOLY MOHOLY-EEHAHAHAHA!”

Hermes was in absolute ticklish agony, his whole torso quivering with the force of his hysterical laughter from the blissful torture. It was absolutely horrible and yet he loved it so much, rushes of euphoria filling him with every laugh, every raspberry on his wings, every overwhelming ticklish touch.

After only a minute or so of that, Odysseus stopped completely with a final wiggle in his bellybutton, leaving Hermes gasping for air in between fits of residual giggles.

He wiped his eyes under his helmet from the tears of laughter, his face still split in two from his wide smile.

“Ahahahaha.. wohohoah.. yohou’re reheheally gohood ahahat thahahat… ehehehehe…”

Odysseus chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?”

Hermes nodded, still giggling and trying to cool his breathing and blushing face.

“Are you alright? I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Hermes shook his head slightly. “No, Noho, yohou’re ahalrihihight. That was greheheat.”

“Man, you really like being tickled, don’t you?”

“Yeheheah! It’s fun to laugh like thahat.. ehehehe.”

“Well, I’m glad to have provided that for you.”

“Thahank yohou, daharling.”

“No problem!”

After another minute or so, Hermes finally stopped giggling, and dusted himself off before standing.

“Well, I best be off. I do have a job to do! But don’t be afraid to send a message whenever you want to hang! This was splendid!”

Odysseus chuckled a bit. “And you dont be afraid to come down and ask me for tickles anytime you want.”

Hermes giggled a bit in response. “I’ll keep that in mind. Ta-ta darling!~”

“See ya round!”

And with that, Hermes flew off, leaving with a light heart and a wide smile.

———THE END———————————————————-

#sfw tickle community #parrotwrites #epic the musical tickles #lee!hermes #ler!odysseus

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ozarkthedog · 1 year ago

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summary: while having a private moment with your boss, the ceo unexpectedly drops by… or so you think.

pairings: Boss!Layla El-Faouly x afab intern!reader x CEO!Marc Spector.

warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. Alt Universe. slight dubcon but reader is willing. power imbalance. free use. f/f -> f/m. established relationship (layla x reader). oral sex (fem receiving). fingering. sex in a private office. dirty talk. praise kink. cum feeding. cream pie.

word count: 3.8k 😅

author’s note: if a fic could come to life, i'd choose this one. thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta'ing and the mental support. i haven't written a fic this long in a while. hope you enjoy. 💙

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

“I have the paperwork all ready for you to sign, Ms. El-Faouly.”

Your boss, Layla, peers up at you with her deep brown eyes from behind her monitor. “Hey, one second. I’ve got to finish this email real quick.” She sends you a soft smile in return before nodding to the right towards a big stack of papers sitting messily on her desk.

Layla had one of the corner offices and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite spot in the entire building. It floods with sunlight all day long and it’s got a great view of the city. Layla was also another reason why it was your favorite.

“How was your day?” She asks, typing as you place the paperwork on top of the stack.

She’s wearing that dark gray, silk blouse and skirt combo you helped her pick out last week during a night out on the town. You told her it made her look powerful and inviting as you got down on your knees for her later that same evening.

“It’s going alright.” You sigh, drawing imaginary patterns on the corner of her desk.

Layla clicks send on the email and turns her attention to you. She leans her elbows on the edge of her desk with a pensive brow. You can see her brain working on ways to fix your problems before you even tell her. “What’s wrong?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Nothing is wrong, I swear.” You raise your hands, shaking your head while the gorgeous woman looks you over quizzically.

Stretching your arms over her desk, you grasp her hands, giving them a squeeze. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just..”

“What is it?” she asks, tucking a few strands of her wild curls behind her ear. She leads you around her desk by your clenched hands and pins your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Tell me.”

Your eyes dance around the room, landing everywhere but on her. She gives your chin a slight shake and forces your eyes back to hers.

You take a deep breath. “Am I doing a good job?”

Layla’s heart sinks. “Of course you are. Why on earth-”

“It’s just, it’s so much work.” You cut her off, spilling your worries now that the dam has been broken. “I hate not being able to get everything to you on time. Not to mention there’s so much paperwork. No one ever says thank you but they’ll definitely yell when you’ve done something wrong. I don’t know if I’m doing things right-”

“C’mere, baby.” She ceases your ramble and pulls you down into her lap and into a searing kiss that makes your head swirl.

Tender, yet fierce lips encompass your own, stealing your gasps with fond affection as she winds her arms around your waist and maneuvers you into the position she wants.

You settle into the pose, kneeling over her lap with your legs on the outsides of her thighs, the cushion of her expensive chair a grateful soft bedding as she forms you to her body.

“Should we really be doing this?” You ask between broken, breathless kisses. It was after 5pm, so it was less likely anyone would walk in on you and her. Still, hesitation nestled in your belly.

“Everyone is gone for the night.” She confirms before lewdly dragging her tongue along the seam of your lips. “There’s no need to worry about them.”

Layla presses her forehead against yours sensing your apprehension. She searches your timid eyes for a moment trying to find the right words to express her gratitude.

“You’re doing a wonderful job. I’ve gotten no complaints from anyone. So if they have an issue, they haven’t told anyone,” she says, holding your gaze. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you more about how lucky I am to have you. My life has been so much better since you started working here.”

She holds your face, rubbing her thumb along the apple of your cheek. “In more ways than one.” She winks, playfully.

“Layla!” You gasp, lightly swatting her on the chest.

She sends you a look you know all too well. The raised eyebrow and slightly parted lips mean trouble is coming. In a good way.

“Oh, baby, you don’t know what you started.” Her hands tickle your ribs in a flash making your eyes bug as you try to keep your giggles at bay. You squirm incessantly in her lap, wishing you could break free but she had a strong hold around your waist.

Your skirt slid up your thighs in the process of all your wriggling, no longer hiding your want for her as your panties are noticeably soaked through.

“Oh, baby, you really are desperate for me.” She coos, eyes growing soft as she feigns a pout. “Poor baby.”

She skillfully undoes the pearly buttons on your white, flower-patterned blouse, sliding the thin material off your shoulders and onto the floor. Soft, warm hands palm your breasts, feeling your heartbeat beneath your skin before she makes you gasp by wickedly pinching your sensitive nipples.

She teases her fingers down further then and along the soaked cloth of your panties, drawing light circles over your throbbing, hidden clit. You whimper into her chocolate curls, a soft pathetic mewl, begging her for more as you perch wearily in her lap.

“What do you say?” she asks with a sharp tongue and pointed stare.

She weaves her arm around your hips, smoothing a palm over the curve of your ass and dragging your panties down in the process before seeking out your aching warmth once more. A well-manicured finger teases down the slick, puffy seam of you from behind, teasing and torturing you until she’s satisfied. She loves breaking you into little pieces and putting you back together.

“Please-” You gasp as your hips buck on their own accord, chasing her fingers for relief. “Please, Layla.”

The older woman’s painted lips tug into a sly smile, “That’s my good girl.”

Your world is consumed. Her brunette curls smell of lavender and spice. They tickle your cheek and senses as she plays your body like a well tuned piano. Her hold on you is immense. There’s never any doubt that she doesn’t adore you.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Layla coos, grasping the back of your neck with her free hand as her other cups your searing mound. You jolt from the touch but do as she says, meeting her soft yet stoic expression with watery eyes.

She pins you with a firm stare as she slowly presses two fingers into your soaked core. You know better than to turn your gaze from her but your eyes flutter as she finally grants you the sweet relief you’ve been begging for.

“That’s my good girl,” Layla praises as she fills you to the hilt, knuckles grazing your puckered hole and claiming every inch of your cunt.

Deft fingers glide with prowess as a steady, toe curling rhythm is set. Your body trembles as a foggy bliss rolls into your mind. Your knees shake, desperately meeting her thrusts, wanting nothing more than to come around her fingers.

“You take what I give you, sweet girl.” Layla coos, nudging her nose against your cheek. She doesn’t like it when you get greedy. “You know that.”

One of your hands clutches the back of her chair while the other has her blouse in a death grip. A scolding is in your future but you could care less as you rock back onto her fingers chasing the pleasure she’s finally allowing.

Something heavy in your gut twists. The knot Layla began tying when she first got you onto her lap starts tightening. Your muscles ache, ready to collapse under the pressure when she gives you the word.

Just then, a quick succession of knocks rap on her door.

Your head whips up as Layla’s fingers go still. Ice courses through your veins freezing the searing wildfire that burns in your abdomen. You knew it was stupid to try anything at work. Besides the occasionally secretive kiss, you both kept things to a dull roar. No one knew about your relationship and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Shh. Be still.” Layla whispers, unfazed, as she cups her free hand along your jaw. “You trust me. Right?”

You nod in her tender hold, hips pressing just a bit harder into her palm. “Good girl.”

“Who is it?” Layla calls out. Your body jolts as her fingers begin moving again and you send her a bewildered look.

“Marc,” a gruff voice sounds from the other side of the door.

Shit — it was the CEO.

Marc Spector built this company from the ground up. He and Layla had been working together since almost the beginning. They explicitly trusted and respected one another even when they didn’t meet eye to eye.

You’d met Marc only once. It was a brief interaction as one of your coworkers showed you around on your first day. He was personable and made you feel welcome even though you were a lowly intern.

You thought he was handsome and could kill someone with his smile. His jet black quiff would curl on humid days when he forgot to gel it. It made you admire him even more for some reason.

“Come in.” She answers while holding your worried gaze with her own unwavering one.

Your heart jumps into your throat. “Layla, what’re doin-” you hiss, squirming to get free from her arms again.

“Remember your safe word.” she says, quickly just before Marc walks in.

“Layla, I was wonderin-” Marc starts as he steps into the office and instantly cuts himself off at the lewd display.

You can’t breathe. Shame and embarrassment flood your system. If the floor could open up, you’d gladly jump in.

Marc stands in awe. You couldn’t turn to face him but you spy his reflection in the darkened window and that’s more than enough. You don't know how you could ever look him in the eye after this.

“What’s this now?” He ponders, intrigue shaping his words as he steps closer, tapping his knuckles on Layla’s oversized desk.

“I was just rewarding her for doing such a good job,” Layla responds like she doesn’t have you propped in her lap with her fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

You see Marc nod in the reflection and take another step closer. Your body burns like red hot coals as you feel his eyes on your body mainly where Layla’s fingers slowly thrust into your shiny, slick opening.

“That right?” Marc questions with a curious tone as he rubs a hand along his rough five o’clock shadow.

“She’s so attentive and such a hard worker.” Layla praises, finally looking in your direction. “I had to show how much I appreciate her.”

Marc chuckles. It’s a deep huff of laughter that rumbles from his chest and it makes your insides melt. “Is she any good at helping relieve some stress?” he asks pensively while looking at your holes like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“She most certainly is,” Layla smirks, raising a sculpted brow before sliding a finger under your chin, tipping your face in toward her. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your heart drops into your stomach.

You’d been with Layla since the first day you started working, shared any and all free time together along with the inner workings of your bedroom. Explored each other’s bodies freely and with such passion. Falling to Layla’s feet came naturally to you and she made you feel complete; loved even.

You trusted her to push your limits whenever the time came but you didn’t think you’d ever be in this situation.

“Why don’t you show him how much you love being employed here, baby.” She dubiously insists, slowly nodding her head for you to comply.

You finally gather the courage to look over your shoulder.

Butterflies flutter wildly in your belly as you take in the devilishly handsome man. His hair is mused, like he’d been running a hand through it all day and his button up shirt is loose at the collar, exposing a column of tan skin with two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up exposing his muscular forearms. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

A nervous chortle bubbles up your throat at the nickname. Your insides turn to jelly; and your brain to mush. Your core can’t help but clench as the older man takes you in with a ravenous gaze.

“Oh, she likes that.” Layla quips upon feeling your pussy clamp down on her fingers.

“Does she now?” Marc croons, stepping up right behind you. He smooths his hands along the shape of you. His warmth feels good against your skin and you can’t help but moan when Layla curls her fingers along that spongy spot that makes you feel lightheaded.

“Damn, that’s a pretty pussy.” He drawls, crouching down behind your bent form. With your ass in the air, you already felt so exposed and now the owner of the company was getting a front row view of the most private parts of you.

Sticky, wet noises fill the room as Layla splays her fingers deep inside your velvet channel. You bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. So overstimulated and heated, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Want a taste?’ Layla asks, jogging you from your stupor.

Marc grunts in response. You look back in time to watch Layla feeding him her shiny, cream coated fingers. The debauched noise he makes while he licks and sucks her fingers clean has your heart falling into your lower half.

You meet his lust filled gaze as he stands. Layla’s fingers leave his lips with a pop, and he palms his hard length through his dark slacks. “You gonna show me how good you are at serving your superiors?”

A nervous whimper escapes from your throat at his question.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, lapping at some of your fallen cream as he pulls his cock out and gives it a languid tug. You watch dumbstruck as he pumps his length, from the obscenely thick base that’s littered with dark wiry hairs to a bulbous, desert blush tip that weeps in his hand after every twist.

“Is that a yes, sweetheart?” he questions.

A smirk lifts the corners of his mouth at your stupefied gaze. Marc raises a hand and grasps the back of your neck, moving your head in a crude up-down motion. “This is how you say, yes.”

Another deep chuckle burrows into your brain and makes you go even more dumb.

Fire ignites in your belly and races up your body, making your face burn. Your mouth bobs open and closed like a fish, wanting to answer him but you can’t even form the simplest word.

“She tends to go a bit brain dead when she gets overwhelmed.” Layla thankfully answers for you.

She thumbs your cheek. “But that pretty pussy of hers makes up for it.”

“You don’t say…” Marc quips before tapping his tip on your soaked folds. Your slick drips down your inner thighs showing that you would indeed make up for your lack of communication.

He notches the thick head past your dripping opening before slowly sinking into your cunt. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, pressing his full length all the way and grinding the cut of his hips against your ass.

“God damn.” Marc grits, hissing through his teeth at the way you squeeze him.

You whimper from the immense stretch. It feels like his cock is burrowing a new space inside your body. “Layla. Too much–” You gasp, having never felt so full before. “So. Big.”

She cups her hands around your face, hushing your cries. “I know, baby. I know.”

Marc’s hips never falter. He plunges into your heat with an unyielding, merciless pace, pushing slick and cream from between your folds, making your belly twist in pleasurable pain.

His strong hands knead your fleshy hips, pulling you back on every brute shove, forcing you to take every inch he gives. “Such a good girl. Doin’ just what we say.”

Your core clenches that much tighter knowing you’re making them happy. “You love it don’t you, pretty girl?” His heavy balls slap against your exposed clit making you mewl and writhe in the combined hold they had on you.

Sticky, sweet bliss drowns your senses. You’re a wanton mess. A plaything between two beautiful gods as they have their fun..

You whine when Marc slows his rhythm, canting his hips so his cock stays buried deep. “I thought you were one of the best.” Marc sighs with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. “But it seems you’re not as attentive as I thought.”

Your brow furrows as you look at him over your shoulder.

“I think it’s time to show your Boss how much you appreciate her.”

Marc moves quickly, dragging you out of Layla’s arms and down onto your knees in front of her spread legs. Layla quirks a brow at him.

“What? I wanted to see how attentive she really was.” Marc says, talking about you like you weren’t speared open on his heavy cock.

Layla pulls her dress up over her legs and spreads her thighs. Her panties looked much like your own, wet, sticky, and just begging to be removed.

“Go on. Show her how much you love being on your knees for her.” Marc commands. With a snap of his hips, he jolts your bones and forces your head between Layla’s thighs. “Eat your boss’s cunt.”

Heat flames your face at his words when a familiar hand curves around your jaw. Layla pulls her panties to the side and leads you gently, well as gently as she can while you’re being plowed from behind, to her slick folds.

She sighs as your tongue licks a long stripe from her weeping opening to her clit. You flick the tiny nub, drawing tight circles for a brief moment before sliding down her folds. You lap hungrily at her slit, freely licking into her tight hole and sliding your tongue in and out from her heat.

“There you go.” Layla coos down at you with a smile. She scratches her nails along your scalp making you purr against her clit. She grinds her cunt against your mouth, chasing her pleasure. Nothing made you happier than making Layla feel good. Your core throbs when she gasps and fucks her mound onto your tongue.

A rough, grating moan crawls from Marc’s chest as your cunt quivers and milks his length. “Such a good girl letting us use you like this.” He grits, slamming his hips harder into your ass and knocking your face steadily into Layla’s cunt. “Like you were made for it.”

Your core spasms at his words. You did love being on your knees for them. At their beck and call, wanting to be of service however they needed.

Marc lays his body along your spine, pressing his clothed chest against your bare back, and nuzzles his curved nose along your cheek. A large hand slinks around your hip and notches nimble fingers against your clit, swirling tight circles around the throbbing nub. “Wanna know all the pretty noises you make when you come.”

“Oh, they’re just the sweetest.” Layla moans, breathlessly as your lips lock around her clit. You suckle the tiny nub until

she’s digging her fingers into your hair, writhing and gasping.

Marc groans at the sight of his business partner unfurling with pleasure. His breath is hot in your ear and he crowds you even more, leaving no chance of escape.

“Come on, girl. Be good and come for us.” Marc commands, shifting his hips until his throbbing tip grazes that hidden spot behind your clit.

With Layla humping your face and Marc sheathing his cock further inside you with every shove, you’re pushed to the edge before you can even think. Your cream coated lips fall open with a feverish wail as your body locks tight.

Your muscles shake uncontrollably as you careen off the edge. Your soaked core clenches like a fist, forcing Marc’s pace to stutter and drag him along with you. He lets loose a dark roar when his balls draw up and he fucks your trembling core to the brim with his thick seed.

His cock twitches between your folds, pumping you full with every last drop. “God damn, you weren’t kidding. She more than made up for going all dumb eariler.” He slowly eases from your core with a hiss and tucks his half hard length back into his slacks.

Your head is still reeling from the powerful orgasm and Marc’s compliment makes you just that much more lightheaded. Thank goodness you were already on the ground.

“Oh you’re making such a mess.” Layla gasps when she sees the thick river of white that runs down your thighs. Your knees ache from being on the hard carpet for so long but the pain is forgotten as the pair crowds over you.

You whine as Layla and Marc drag their fingers through the hot stickiness and press them into your mouth.

You gag heavily around the two sets of fingers, tears pricking your eyes as they cover your tongue in the combined spend. “Good girl. Clean up the mess you made.” Marc nods slowly, heavy lidded with a deep moan of satisfaction as you choke and sputter while Layla proudly smiles down at you. “Did so well for me; for us.”

She shares a curious look with Marc before turning her gaze back to you and thumbs the last bit of white into your mouth.

“Might need to borrow her again sometime soon.” Marc comments as they help you onto your feet. “You know how stressed I can get.”

Your legs are shaky, like a newborn doe, as Layla brushes down your crumpled skirt while Marc helps you back into your blouse, securely buttoning you up.

“We’ll see about that.” Layla responds as she gathers you into her arms and sits back down on her chair, tucking your sleepy head under her chin.

“I’ll see you ‘round the office, sweetheart.” He raises a hand and tenderly grazes your dewy temple with his knuckles.

As he sees himself out, he winks at Layla and she smirks before he shuts the door leaving the two of you in peaceful silence.

As you relax in Layla’s arms, burrowing yourself into her safe warmth, you notice through sleepy eyes that her monitor is still on. The email she was typing when you dropped off the paperwork lights up the screen.

𝚃𝙾: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 (𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌)

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 - 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙻𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚊 𝙴𝚕-𝙵𝚊𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚢

𝙲𝙵𝙾 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌

*evil laughter* they were in cahoots the entire time!

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!

#layla el faouly #marc spector #Layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x reader x marc spector #marc spector x reader #oscar isaac #may calamawy

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netherfeildren · 2 years ago

Text

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .1

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Summary: What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the love of your life?

-OR-

A Joel infidelity AU

Content Warnings: Discussions of alcoholism and parent death.

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Hi, everyone. Welcome to the new story.

Disclaimer to begin with. Joel is married in this, but it is, and always has been, a marriage of convenience. There has never been any sort of emotional or physical intimacy between him and his wife apart from when Sarah was conceived.

Like always, I promise there will be a happy ending, and that there will be lots of other fun :) stuff to make up for the occasional tears.

I appreciate you all so much. Happy (lol I guess) reading. xx

Art is The pain that keeps on giving, Noelia Towers, (2018-2019). Title of the story comes from this film.

Word Count: 6.8K

Read on AO3

Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

The first time you’d fucked, it was like you’d never been touched by a man before. The first time he’d looked at you, like you’d never been seen, in the entirety of your existence, prior to that moment. Every other time after that, every touch, every look, was the same – a rebirth of sorts. And a devastation. Something not to be understood or conceptualized, only experienced.

Taking that into account, it’s no surprise that things unfolded as they did – ended as they did.

“Please, please, come with us,” Gerri drags the vowels out and hits you with the puppy dog eyes. You shake your head at her, smiling, packing up your supplies from tonight’s lesson. “It’s going to be so fun, I promise. Tommy’s sister-in-law hates my guts, I know, what-fucking-ever, but my sister and her girlfriend will be there, and my best friend’s planning on coming too. And there’s an extra bedroom, it’ll be perfect, I swear.”

“Yeah, I remember the sister-in-law from Easter.” Of course you remember her from that day. Gerri had invited you to their family barbecue, and the woman had pitched a fit that Tommy’s girlfriend, somehow posed as an insult, had dared invite someone without asking her permission first. It was also the first time you’d met him. And he was, by far and large, the reason you’d stayed away and evaded all subsequent invitations since then. Even if his wife had unapologetically said to your face that she found it crazy that people still party crashed, no matter that that hadn’t been what you’d meant to do, hadn’t known you were party crashing. She’d also thrown away the bunny cake you’d stayed up the entire night before making. No gluten in the house or something, even though the hamburger and hot dog buns had all been regular.

“Oh my fucking God, Easter. Don’t even remind me. I know, I know.” She gives you a pointed look and you huff a laugh at her. “But that was months ago. Her and Joel were on the outs then, or… had just gotten back together… I can’t ever keep up. And well… they’re still on the outs now–” She scrunches up her face into the cutest little frown. You love Gerri so much. From the first moment she’d shown up for your Tuesday night ceramics class at the community college, she’d immediately decided that not only were you going to propel her into the upper echelons of the great sculptors of the world, the greater Austin area – her words, not yours, but she’d also immediately decided that you were going to be friends, and no, you did not have a choice in the matter.

“But they’re always on the outs. And things haven’t been as bad recently – according to Tommy. But honestly the fuck does he know about all that anyways. My poor baby is so clueless – but still, please, please please,” she begs, pouts your name over and over again. “Please, come with us?” She brings her clasped hands up under her chin in a pleading gesture, hits you with the puppy dog eyes again.

You were so grateful for her. Despite your recalcitrance, it’d always been hard for you to make friends. A byproduct of who your mother was, being an only child, a largely solitary upbringing, et cetera, et cetera. You’d needed Gerri’s tenacious spark and kindness to pull you out of your shell. She wanted you to join her, her boyfriend Tommy, and their friends and family at a house they’d rented on Lake Austin for the weekend as a sort of end of summer farewell. And you did – you wanted to go, bunny cake murdering sister-in-law and all, but there was the issue of him.

You were… there was not a single phrase for what it was your mind turned into when that man and his name and his face invaded your psyche. So you’d done your best to avoid him in your mind and in real life, at all costs. He was – he was not something you were capable of considering.

“I’m not sure if I can, Ger–” you say slowly, wracking your brain for an excuse. “There was– one of the other teachers at the elementary school–” Your day job, when you weren’t teaching night class ceramics, was as an elementary school art teacher, “Asked if I’d cover for them on Friday – summer school.” Stupid excuse, you roll your eyes at yourself.

“Oh, shut up. The summer camp classes end early – you told me that last time! You could drive up after.” She sidles up to you now, rests her curly haired head on your shoulder. “Please, you’ve said no to everything I’ve invited you to since Easter. You aren’t avoiding me because of the shitshow that was, are you?”

“No, of course not.” Yes, yes you were. Just not for the reason she thought. “I would just hate to impose–”

“You wouldn’t! I swear you wouldn’t be!”

“You all already have your plan, and I–”

“No! No. My sister’s the one renting the house, and she said I could invite whoever I wanted. So, no one can say anything,” she sticks her tongue out, rolling her eyes. “And Joel said I should invite you too. I’m pretty sure he still feels badly about last time also.” Fucking hell, you did not want him feeling bad for you. At all. Ever. You did not want him ever thinking about you ever, ever, ever.

You stand over the kitchen trash bin, staring at your destroyed cake. Your grandmother used to make it every Easter. Four separate cake loaves all cut into the shapes for a face, two big pointy ears, and a cute little bow tie, with a pineapple filling, and all covered in little flakes of coconut and your homemade vanilla frosting. You used jelly beans to make the eyes and nose and dark frosting out of a piping bag for the whiskers and mouth. It was your favorite cake, one of your favorite memories, one of the only good ones.

“Fucking Christ, she did not throw it away. Please, don’t tell me that’s the cake you brought.” Large hand gently placed between the wings of your shoulder blades to peer around you, not touching, but still there, still very close, and yes, that’s it, you’ve gotta get the fuck out of there now, away from this man.

“Oh, no. It’s okay – I– I mean– I should’ve asked before. I didn’t know you all were gluten free. I should’ve asked…”

“What? Glu–” he frowns. You knew his wife, Eva, had made that up. You step away from him, from his large warm palm that feels like it’s burning through your clothes and skin. He was really, really and truly the most unfairly gorgeous man you’d ever seen. He fucking terrified you. “Oh, yeah. The gluten.” He went along with the lie, passing the offending palm over his mouth, the wiry scruff of his beard rasping softly against what you imagined to be work roughened skin. He’d said he was a contractor.

Gerri had invited you to her boyfriend's brother’s house for the Easter holiday. It was the first invitation to something you’d gotten since you’d moved to Austin six months ago, and you’d been so, so happy that she’d asked, had felt so sad you’d not have anyone to share your cake with. You’d planned to take it to work with you to leave in the teacher’s lounge for everyone to share. The thought had made the back of your eyes pinch, for some reason.

“It’s alright. I actually need to head out. Could you let Gerri know? I– I’m–” you couldn’t think of a lie, and he was staring at you like he knew you had no real excuse – like he knew you were uncomfortable and out of place and were just looking for an excuse to leave. Embarrassment burned in your cheeks.

“Don’t go, please. Stay for a while longer. I’m – fuck– I apologize about the cake–”

“No, no– really it’s–” you held out a staying hand, but he’d cut off your false appeasement.

“Please, stay.” He’d taken a step forward, closer to your retreating form, and you’d felt almost faint, dizzy at the image of him stepping closer to you. He was so tall, huge really, broad chest, thick arms, dark, lush curls and a scruffy jaw, a peek of chest hair covering the tantalizing golden skin at the opened button of his shirt. Sexy, deep Southern twang. The loveliest, warmest eyes you think you’d ever probably seen. You were going to try and mix the exact color of them when you got home, even though you knew you shouldn’t. You hadn’t been interested in a man in months, maybe longer, couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a crush, an anything on anyone, and now this man. Suddenly, blindingly, out of fucking nowhere – so damn attractive. Your eyes had fluttered shut for a second and you’d swallowed, trying to regain your balance – you’d known him for all of two hours and he already made you feel unbalanced. You needed to leave.

“Really, Joel,” his name on your tongue almost had a taste, “It’s okay.”

“He– He did?” you stutter. “He shouldn’t feel bad – he has nothing to feel bad about, it was nothing.” Lie – lie, lie, lie. Meeting him that day had been – it had been everything. You’d thought about it, him, for months afterwards. The sight of him with his three year old daughter, Sarah, the sweetest little thing you’d ever seen. Helping her hunt for the Easter eggs he’d hidden around their backyard, letting her crack the bright confetti filled shells over his head. His excitement for her when she’d finally found the basket he’d made up for her. He was a good father.

“Yeah, and Tommy said he’d like to see you again too. And I told my sister about you, and she thinks all my pottery’s fucking amazing, by the way, and she wants to meet you too, and she’s even thinking of enrolling in the class next semester so really, really you’re obligated to come.” Fucking menace – she smiles sweetly.

“Oh, fine. Fine, fine. I’ll come.” You’re putting away the last of your tools. “I’ll drive up Friday afternoon when I’m done at the school.”

Immediate hopping squeals, and this is why you love her. She’s so happy, so open and silly, friendly and funny. All the things opposite to your restrained quiet, shy to the point of aggravation, sometimes. You didn’t want your constant refusals to alienate her. You could see him again, it would be fine. You’d met him once for Christ’s sake. It meant nothing. It had probably been nothing that day, heat exhaustion or a stomach ache or something. Nothing to fawn and stress over. You’d just be polite, cordial, keep your distance – especially from his wife. You did not, did not want to provoke her greater dislike. You’d keep your unwanted baking to yourself this time. It would all be fine. You wanted these people to like you, if you were being honest. A little desperately. Gerri and Tommy, her sister you hadn’t yet met – you wanted to be part of their group, one of their friends. They were all so kind, welcoming and fun, you couldn’t ruin this for yourself.

Gerri had spilled the beans on the marriage over one afternoon of too many Mexican martini’s, an Austin specialty, and chips and salsa. They’d gotten married three years ago after Eva had gotten unexpectedly pregnant. Joel was traditional, he’d asked and eventually she’d agreed. They were both older than you, he’d just turned forty recently, and you guessed it’d made sense for them, at the time, but she’d left them soon after Sarah had been born. The marriage, the baby, hadn’t been in her plans, too much for her, Gerri said. They’d been separated for about a year and a half until she’d come back. They seemed to be trying to work it out now. Gerri claimed they were both miserable. You’d only met them the once – well, you’d seen Joel a few weeks ago, from a distance, when Tommy’d come to drop something off for Gerri before class, sitting in their truck. You don’t think he’d seen you – but you thought that their misery was very obviously apparent in that way that was easily recognizable to someone who, at one point, had existed in a house made only of misery. It breaks your heart for them all, in different ways, to recognize that singular brand of dissatisfaction that comes with living in a home where no happiness resided with you.

But the reality of his marriage made you all the more terrified of him. To ever see him again. You wanted no part of that. Didn’t even want to exist in the same vicinity as someone who was experiencing something of that nature. You’d had enough of unhappy marriages and painful households in your own childhood. You never wanted to deal with that again.

You’d read once that infidelity was a hereditary trait. Studies had shown that if you’d had a parent or even a sibling, someone in your household during your development, who’d been unfaithful, you were then more likely to also be unfaithful yourself. Something about that sort of childhood trauma inciting a propensity in the offspring to find it difficult to later on trust romantic partners, to incite trust themselves. Trust issues, emotional unavailability, baggage, blah, blah. Sometimes nature versus nurture was a real bitch, in your opinion.

But as much as you wanted to call bullshit, the thought, the possibility of that being true, filled you with such an intense fear — debilitating, paralyzing, life altering. You found yourself with an immense inability to trust yourself, more than anything. Your greatest fear, the thing that scared you the most in all the world, was that you would be the perpetrator, that you would be the one to commit that sin. That you’d lose control, self awareness, morality, yourself. It wasn’t something your mind could even come to terms with, the possibility of hurting another person that way, betraying them in that manner. It seemed like the worst possible thing in the entire world that you could ever do to someone. After all, you’d watched your mother do it to your father, over and over again, your entire life, up until the point that she’d up and left the both of you. For many years, after her fateful abandoning, you’d watched him drink himself into a stupor and then into a grave. Years of waiting for her to come back, in love with a ghost or a figment of his imagination, for the woman he’d made her out to be, within the ever forgiving and naive confines of his love, had never existed. Something you could see, even through the lenses of your child eyes.

She was an eternally flawed woman. Selfish, vain, manipulative, deceitful, but there was good in her too. She was eccentric and beautiful, and she could be kind, so funny, and immensely intelligent, her mind and wit, always sharp as a whip. It was, you thought, what made her so talented at deceiving others, at getting her way. She outsmarted everyone she came into contact with. But she was also weak and self serving, had never met anyone, in all her life, who she loved more than she loved herself. Not even you. Sometimes, you thought, especially not you. For you were the living reminder of all she’d lost and been forced to give up. It was a difficult, complicated, painful relationship you had with her, even now, all these years later.

After she’d left, she’d kept in contact with you sparingly. The occasional call or birthday card. It had taken her three years to feel like seeing you again after she’d left when you were ten. The pains and awkwardness of puberty long started, endured on your own, before she’d even had the foresight to remember she had a daughter who might need her. It was an exceedingly painful and lonely time for a young girl to survive on her own, but you bore it, as you did the entirety of the fallout that came with her leaving.

Your father was another story entirely. He’d fallen to pieces, completely, the day she’d left and had never had the strength of will to ever pull himself together again. It was a strange sort of existence the two of you had lived in those years, keeping each other company. Physically, he was there, but he was never present, never sentient. He drowned, for years and years, in a sea of pain and liquor, and he never resurfaced. You watched him sink, a young girl incapable of comprehending or acting in a way that could’ve helped him, as much as you wanted to or even tried, all of it was futile. Eventually he hit the bottom of the ocean and died there, and you were left more alone than ever.

You remember there’d only been four people, in total, at his funeral. You and two men from the shithole bar he liked to lose himself at every week and the priest. It was a terribly painful thing to live through on your own. Humiliating in a very specific and acute way, for some reason. To know that this sad, pathetic specimen of a human being had had a hand in creating you, to know that he was your father and that you loved him, despite his weakness, his vices, his lack of care for you, you loved him. And you felt interminably sorry for the creature he’d been turned into at the hands of an uncaring and poisonous love. You hadn’t been able to tell her for ten months, after he’d been dead in the ground, that he’d passed. She’d not called, didn’t like giving you her number, said she was too busy to have to worry about you calling her at all hours of the day, as if you’d asked her for a single thing in the decade since she’d left.

And you loved your mother, even after it all, you did, but it was a poignantly devastating moment, the day you realized she was not just your mother, but her own person, as well. The day that childlike naivety, unconscious self centeredness, was cast away to realize that she was savagely flawed and human, and that she did bad things that hurt good people. And still, and still she was your mother and you loved her. Your greatest influence, the hand that shaped you, and you loved her despite everything. It was only that, after the rose tinted glasses had been ripped away, and she was only then herself, nothing more – pedestal forsaken – she was just a flawed woman who sometimes made mistakes, made the wrong choices, hurt you and your father and fractured your family. That was a hard thing to come to terms with as a young girl.

You realized now, with the lifetime of experience she’d inherited to you, that motherhood built a pedestal and a grave, all at once, over and over again. A woman could vacillate between being the Madonna and the whore, and the cycle was inescapable and destructive and enticing, all at the same time. It was something that one could try to avoid or run away from, but many times, it caught up to most, hooked its claws in you and dragged you away from the things you would’ve wanted or done otherwise. You realized this was what had happened to her. She’d never been built for motherhood, for the responsibility of raising a child, so she’d desecrated the altar of it, taken a sledgehammer to it and freed herself in the only way she saw she could, collateral damage be damned.

And so you’d isolated yourself, for the thought of doing the same thing to someone that you might have loved or someone that loved you, was soul destroying. And that was the saddest part of this whole overly cliché tragedy – that you were sure that, at a certain point in her life, she’d loved your father, as well. Perhaps not enough, not enough to change who she was, what she really wanted, but she had loved him in her own way, nevertheless.

Parallel to the tragedy was the ironic reality that in some very safely guarded part of you, you longed so, so desperately for your own chance at a happy family, love, children. How could you not? When you’d never experienced it for yourself during your own childhood. Always having to make your own meals, get yourself ready for school, alone at ten years old, walking to the bus unaccompanied, no one ever waiting for you, expecting you, watching over you. Alone, alone, always alone. How could you not want to build your own normal, loving, happy family for yourself? You wanted it very badly.

But there was also no part of you that felt, in the most vital ways, capable of showing your underbelly in such a vulnerable way. You had always been too sensitive, a weeper from a long line of weepers, and the second thing you were most terrified of, after turning into your own mother, was being left again, abandoned to another derelict and lonely childhood. So your aloneness suited you, for now. At least, in terms of your romantic life. Your isolation kept you safe, guarded from those that would savage the sensitive and salted battleground that was your heart.

That, however, did not mean that you were immune to wanting, to the disease of yearning, of desire, and so you found it most unfortunate, cosmically laughable and cruel, that it would be this man, this married, beautiful, entirely unattainable man, that would have reminded you of that desire again, after it had lain dormant for so long: Joel.

Joel tried to think of you only in the moments when he was feeling particularly strong. It was a challenge he’d set for himself from that day, all those months ago, when you’d appeared at his house on Easter. Like a fucking angel or a creature out of a fairy book. Soft and luminous and so fucking pretty. No, Joel tried very, very hard not to think of you.

He failed often, though. He’d not forgotten you since that day. Had tried to fish, as subtly as possible, through Tommy, for information. See if he’d heard anything about you from Gerri. Any new details or gossip about the pretty little art teacher. Tommy was a terrible goddamn gossip, like a clucking hen. And Joel knew, he knew empirically, that thinking of you was wrong. That he had a wife that he needed to be respectful of, even if she was never respectful of him, fucking her coworker – or had been… still was — he couldn’t keep track anymore – didn’t really care, if he was being honest. But you, you were the one small, private thing he kept for himself. The thought of you, the image of you in his mind, you were only for his moments of great necessity. You’d been so sweet that afternoon, walking into his home with your bunny cake. That fucking cake haunted him – the look in your eyes as he watched you stand over the trashcan staring at it. He’d been so scared you’d start crying, that he’d have to comfort you, that he’d be able to take you into his arms. He’d been terrified of what would become of him if he’d gotten the opportunity to feel you like that. But no, you’d left. Made up some weak excuse he knew you could see he didn’t buy, and had quietly left, not even saying goodbye to the others. He’d had a terrible one-sided argument with Eva that night. Told her she’d been unnecessarily rude and cruel, doing that to a complete stranger who was just trying to be nice. She hadn’t batted a single eyelash, all his frustration going in one ear and out the other.

He could, to a certain degree, understand where her behavior came from. He knew she was unhappy, he knew she hated their life together. That it was nothing like what she’d ever envisioned for herself, and so she acted out sometimes. At his age, he found now, that you couldn’t ever really fault a person for not being what they’d never been meant to be. He understood this, had accepted that his marriage would never be of the happy or intimate sort. That Eva had never wanted to be a mother, but had felt trapped by circumstance. He dealt with it. Or ignored it. Avoided looking directly at the ugly reality of it, more like. He had Sarah and work and Tommy, and now that his brother was with Gerri things had gotten a little better, happier for the family. She was a good addition – kind and spunky. She was good for his brother, and he was happy for them.

But the day he’d met you – it had made a savage claw of want gouge through his entrails. He’d not remembered the last time he’d wanted something the way he did when he watched you walk out into the backyard long hair shimmering in the sun, and a nervous flush sweeping over the apples of your cheeks. And even if he’d been unattached, free to pursue you like he liked to dream about sometimes, you were so young – much too young and pretty for an old, washed up, has-been like him. But he could imagine it, like he’d said, only when he was feeling particularly strong. Or maybe particularly weak. He couldn’t keep track of which was safer anymore. When the years and work and responsibilities and grief and loneliness surged up too high and overwhelming for him to bear, he liked to think of you in that little yellow sundress. Wonder what it’d be like to be a younger man, to have met you first. A bad, selfish, terrible thought to have. But just in the quiet privacy of his mind, when he needed a small something to make him feel just a little better – he liked to think of you.

The only other time he’d seen you, once when Tommy’d had to drop something for Gerri at the college, he’d insisted on tagging along. Hoping he’d maybe be lucky enough to get a glimpse of you, and oh, he’d been so, so rewarded. You’d been carrying a stack of supplies from your car into the building, one of those spiky things women wore twisted in your hair to keep it up, wisps of your long, heavy locks escaping the knot, and a little, red, spaghetti strapped top. The thin of it on your shoulder had slipped off the delicate wing of your clavicle as you balanced everything you’d carried in your arms and tried to kick your car door closed at the same time. It’d taken everything in him, all the self control he possessed, not to sprint over to you and offer to help you, to fall to his knees at your feet. You’d blown a strand of your hair out of your face, the cutest expression of frustration scrunching your brow. His gut had twisted almost painfully with yearning. He hadn’t even known he was capable of fucking yearning, but he sure as hell did now. He felt it sharply, piercingly, like a knife to the gut. He’d met you once for Christ’s sake, seen you in person only twice, but you plagued him, you plagued him.

He knew it was probably partially a symptom of how alone he was. Lonely to his very core. His marriage had never been a real one, no closeness, no intimacy. A byproduct born of one drunken night, and Joel’s need to do the right thing, give his child a stable home with two parents and all the love he could give her. And Sarah, Sarah was the greatest gift that he’d ever been given. This perfect little person that he still, three years later, could not believe had come from a piece of him.

He’d told Eva that he’d do whatever she wanted, would accept whatever she’d chosen when she’d first realized she was pregnant. She’d refused the alternative route vehemently, and so he’d never suggested it again. If he was being honest, he’d been happy when he’d found out, in some small way. The situation wasn’t ideal, of course, they’d been veritable strangers at that point, but he’d been thirty seven, at the time, and he liked the idea of children. Eva was attractive and intelligent. He’d proposed immediately, gone out and gotten a ring and gotten down on one knee. He’d naively thought that perhaps, eventually, with time, they might grow closer. That idea was squashed quickly. She’d made it clear that she’d never wanted to marry him, but she also didn’t want to go at it alone, knew he was responsible and reliable, and so she’d accepted. And perhaps, he should have tried harder to win her over afterwards, but if he was being as honest as he could be, he wasn’t very interested either, didn’t really mind the lack of intimacy with her. They just weren’t a good match.

She’d left a few months after she’d given birth. Ran off with some guy she’d met – only a note left saying she couldn’t do it anymore. He hadn’t tried to go after her, hadn’t tried to bring her back or look for her. A better man probably would have, would have fought for his wife, for the mother of his child. But he’d never loved her, not even close, and so he’d taken care of his baby girl, had tried to be everything she needed and worked as hard as he could so that she’d never want for anything. Eva had come back after about a year and a half – her affair had run its course, and she’d said she wanted to try again with Sarah, that she’d made a mistake, wanted to be part of her daughter’s life. Of course he’d let her come back. He wanted Sarah to have a mother that was present, to have everything a child should have. And afterall, it was no hardship for him personally. She didn’t want a relationship with him, only Sarah. And so they’d settled into this strange agreement of co-parents slash roommates who just happened to be married. Eva liked to keep pretenses up, so they did the occasional family thing together. Especially now that Tommy was with Gerri, she liked to pretend at the double date thing, occasionally. Even though Eva couldn’t stand the poor girl. It was a pieced together sort of life, but it was better than what some had, and Sarah had her mother. He couldn’t complain.

But he did like to imagine a sort of alternative sometimes – something different, less lonely. He could tell she was going to leave again soon, more unsatisfied and frustrated and restless than ever. He couldn’t even find it in himself to resent her for it, it only hurt him for Sarah’s sake, for he didn’t think she’d be coming back this time.

It hadn’t been such a bad idea to come after all, you think, as you lounge on the dock by the lake. The sun is strong but not burning – warm and soothing. It feels like there are ghost fingers stroking all along the bare skin of your arms and legs. Gerri had made a pitcher of sangria and you were slightly tipsy off it now. A light weight, through and through.

The house they’d rented was gorgeous. All exposed wood and big glass windows right on the lakefront. Gerri’s sister was a doctor – a spine surgeon or something really fancy. She’d rented the house and invited all of you – no chance for Joel’s wife to be pissed off that you’d tagged along.

There were large boxes of the loveliest white hydrangeas along one side of the dock. The sweet scent of them drifting around you as you lounged on the chair you’d planted yourself in with your sangria. Yes, this was a good idea. You’d managed to evade Joel and his wife in the hours you’d been here. Gerri and Tommy were great as always and her sister and her partner were so nice. You’d talked about the pottery class, she wanted to pick up a new hobby, trying out the whole work-life-balance thing, and she’d thought pottery’d be a good fit for her. She was planning on signing up for the next semester.

You’re slightly dozing now. The warm sun and sweet alcohol making you languorous and drowsy and all fizzy on the inside. You think you might be able to hear the breeze sliding through each individual blade of grass on the bank, whistling over the surface of the water, and you can’t stop picturing his arms in your mind, but you’re pretending to ignore that, or pretending the bulging, mouth-watering muscles, prominent veins running under the surface of his tan skin, dusted with a light coating of golden brown hair belonged to someone who was not him. He has the largest hands you’ve ever seen, and you wonder what one of them wrapped around your throat would feel like. Bad, inappropriate thoughts.

You have one arm slung above your head, resting at the crown of your scalp to partially shield the sensitive skin there from the strong sun when you feel a sudden piercing pain, right to the center of your palm. You shriek, jolting violently, glass of sangria falling and shattering on the deck and stumbling up out of your chair, sending it flying back topside. A wasp buzzes menacingly around you, and you shriek again, cracked and painful. The thing had stung you right in the center of your tender palm. You hear the quick paced steps of someone approaching, too distracted trying to evade the horrible thing when you hear Joel’s voice. “Stay still, it’s okay. I’ll get it.”

Your hand really, really hurts. You stop your swatting and feel the back of your eyes pinch, hot tears pooling in the corners. Not only is the sting incredibly painful, but you really hate bees, wasps, all the ugly mean things that buzz and sting. You can feel the slight tremble of your frame begin to take over as you try to patiently wait for him to get rid of it.

He comes closer, “It’s okay, he’s gone. Did it get you? C’mere, lemme see.”

You clutch the injured hand to your chest, try and scoot away from him shaking your head, but you get too near to the edge, and his hand shoots out to cup your elbow, other hand coming to circle your waist and turn you so you’re standing in the center, and he’s closer to the edge.

“No, no, it’s okay. It got you, lemme see it–” he gently circles his big rough palm on the thin of your wrist, and now you’re really shaking.

“It’s o–okay,” you hitch, you feel a tear slide down your cheek. Fucking embarrassing. “I’m okay, really. It’s nothing.” You try and pull your limb out of his grasp, but he pulls you closer. He says your name then, not necessarily sharply, but in the way of a rubber band snapping against your skin, a slightly jarring crack followed by a tingle, something that reverberates through your entire body.

Then gentle: “Just come here,” and coaxing. How could anyone ever say no to a voice like that. So deep, so patient. “Lemme see, it’s okay. No, don’t be scared. Lemme see, open your hand for me, sweetheart. I’ll be gentle, it’s okay,” his soothing voice over and over. Coaxing you into capitulation, into following his orders. He smooths his rough thumb gently, gently over the sides of your palm, coaxing your fingers to uncurl and let him see the hurt. “Oh, it’s alright. None of that trembling, sweet girl.” And then he brings your hand up to his hot, wet mouth and presses his lips to the wound, gently sucking. You can feel the wet of his tongue pass over it once, slowly sucking the venom out of your palm. You feel everything below your belly button go hot and liquid at the feel of his tongue on your skin. Oh, God, you want to feel that mouth everywhere, between your legs.

You think you let a jagged whimper claw its way out your throat, for his eyes flit to yours, a flash of heat igniting them. He pulls his mouth away, turns to spit, thumb gently brushing over the tender inside of your wrist. He says your name so softly. “That’s better. You’re okay. No tears.”

His large hands completely engulf yours. His fingers are thick and long, his nails clipped short and neat. Beautiful, masculine hands. Working hands. He doesn’t wear a ring. “We can get a clove of garlic on this,” he’s still cradling your limb, “Heard that’s good for stings.”

This is bad, bad, bad, bad. Not part of your plan to stay away from him at all. He’s staring at your cradled hand, his gaze trained on the way his own palm dwarfs yours. You feel his touch tighten for just a second, he brings his eyes back to yours, and you watch as a swallow passes through the strong column of his throat.

He called you sweetheart.

There are so many reasons why you know he’s dangerous to you, why you should stay away from him: his kindness, how competent he is — the way it seems like, no matter what in life could ever present itself to him, he’d be able to take it in, take care of it, fix it. He could handle anything. How fucking gorgeous he is, his hands, his face, his body, the dark curls, the slightest hint of silver threads beginning to appear through them, the deep dark eyes, but most of all, more than any other reason, the way he says your name — like the worst thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life, and also the loveliest. So soft and deep and soothing. A voice that could get a person to do anything, capitulate to anything, commit any crime.

And what was it about wanting something you should not want, could never have, that made you want it all the more? Rebellion of the highest order calls your name.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. He still has you clutched in his grasp, is staring at you almost in shock. You try to pull away and his grip tightens for one second, like he can’t bear the thought of letting you go, and then releases you, lets you pull your injured hand back into your chest.

“Alright?”

And you’re so disoriented by him, by his touch that you instinctively reply: “Yes. Are you?”

He looks confused for a second, shakes his head a little and then laughs, “Yeah – yeah, I’m okay, sweetheart.” He shouldn’t be calling you that, but it sounds so lovely coming out of his mouth. You’ll tell him to stop next time. It’s okay. Next time he says it you’ll tell him not to call you that anymore. Embarrassment burns your cheeks.

You shake your head, “Sorry, I–”

“It’s alright. No need to apologize. Let’s get you inside. Get somethin’ on that hand.”

You take a step back from him, and he matches it with one step of his own forward, like he isn’t planning on letting you run away. It makes the speed of your heart kick up a notch, a hummingbird fluttering within the confines of your chest. “No, really, it’s okay. I’ll ice it or something. I’m fine, honestly. Thank you for– for your help.” You feel like you’re blinking a hundred times a minute, the sun suddenly scorching, when just a moment ago it had been soft and warm.

You need to get away from him.

“Rubbin’ a garlic clove on it’s good for stings. There’s some in the kitchen, I’ll get it for you.” He reaches a hand out as if to take hold of you again, and you take two more steps away. This time he does not follow, you see the muscle of his jaw flutter.

“Really, Joel. It’s okay.” You feel like you’ve said these words to him before, like all your short acquaintanceship has consisted of, is you apologizing and running away, bowing out before it gets too scary or complicated or threatening. He probably thinks you’re an idiot. “Th– thank you for your help. I’m just gonna –” you hitch your thumb back towards the house, “I’m just going to go back inside. Sorry.”

He only nods, frozen on the dock as you walk away from him.

Chapter .2

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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racketballz · 3 months ago

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how do you get past the stage of needing references for absolutely everything? i feel like every time im doing a sketch or trying to get something down, even for something simple as an eye, i end up needing to look at my collection of references or other people's art that I've studied, or else I'll hate what I draw. it slows me down so much!

You need to build your intuition! I will say it takes a minute to know what you’re looking at if it’s unfamiliar to you but you should be actively learning while drawing so you can rid yourself of certain references

Basically I think that starting off with something or like various versions of the same kind of reference rather than just one can be useful this way you can teach your brain anatomy and poses rather than just mocking a single image.

Kinda creating an image in your own head rather than just looking at one picture to reference which I already think is super stifling. Things you should be looking at is how the body moves what doesn’t or does happen when the body moves in a certain way. For example: where the shoulder ball lays or where the elbow meets the chest these are important thing to reference when you’re making your own pose or make it look more accurate to life

So if I were to break down these images in my head there’s a couple things I’m looking at that I can use for my pose

I was on Pinterest for not very long btw since they tend to group images like this together but I liked the body lines and the axis of the shoulder and the hips in red but the arm being main focal point for the all of these really makes it the focus since it’s in the forefront. They all have like a bent arm aspect and the line for the back is creating an interesting direction that compliments the arm as well. This is the sketch I came up with:

Whether or not you’re looking at an image of creating one out of thin air you might like to use these things to inspire your line of direction to make it look interesting honestly even if it’s not accurate to real life sometimes but having the general knowledge of the body and how it moved you will feel when something Is not right so this is me now adding my own stuff on it because it’s not interesting enough to me!

I like the inclusion of straight lines because it makes the bent ones look more interesting to me I made the body longer and I made the head smaller it adds more depth!

Anyway you build your intuition by not referencing so hard the right in wrong you get from the image turned into the right and wrong in your head (this is also how your build stylization) if rn you’re kinda doing that try giving yourself a time limit to how long you can look at the image and then go in to the drawing and don’t look at the references at all and when you’re done (or frustrated whatever comes first) look at the image for a second and then go back and adjust

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kikyoupdates · 21 days ago

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Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟺

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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Some total stranger is glaring at you as if you’ve just committed mass murder.

For obvious reasons, it’s a bit uncalled for. Here you were, minding your business and enjoying your coffee, and now, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a messy altercation.

“Who the fuck is she?” Nadia demands. She basically spits the words, as if the mere act of acknowledging your existence fills her with disgust.

You’re too taken aback to respond. Callum still refuses to let go of you. In fact, he squeezes you even tighter, lips spreading into a wide grin as he utters his next words.

“Oh, her?” Callum hums, mischief and delight seeping into his voice. “Nobody, really. Just my new girlfriend.”

I’m sorry, what?

Your jaw drops open, but before you can even dispute his claim, Nadia makes her thoughts on the matter abundantly clear.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

She outright screams. It’s loud and shrill, and you involuntarily wince—especially since several people turn their heads to find out what the hell is going on.

You are both shocked and mortified. Even though you haven’t yet gotten all the details, it’s obvious that Nadia doesn’t like the thought of you dating Callum. But you’re not even actually dating him, so surely once you clear up the misunderstanding, she’ll cool off, right?

“He doesn’t mean that,” you hurry to protest. “I think he’s just messing with both of us, because—”

“Was I talking to you, bitch?” Nadia sneers.

Oh.

Well, okay, then.

You visibly deflate. It’s safe to say you weren’t expecting something like this. You’re not the most confrontational person to begin with, and even though you’d like nothing more than to tell her off, her sharp tongue deters you from trying again.

But thankfully, Callum decides to end your suffering.

“Whoa, chill, Nadia,” he scoffs, half-chuckling. “It was a joke, for fuck’s sake. She’s just my friend. She was obviously trying to correct you just now, but you didn’t want to hear her out. Goddamn.”

Nadia’s eyes widen, and her face turns red from shame. You hate to admit it, but after how she viciously lashed out at you, her embarrassment is a welcome sight.

So, it looks like Callum was only joking around. Still, though.

As far as jokes go, this one was remarkably shitty.

“We’re seriously just friends,” Callum repeats, and much to your relief, he finally lets go of you. Then, there’s a glint of amusement in his pale eyes. “But why does it even matter? So what if I end up dating someone else? You’re the one who broke up with me. Did you already forget?”

Holy shit. This situation is just getting more uncomfortable by the second. You honestly want to dig a hole in the ground and hide in it until this is over.

Also, you now have a pretty good idea as to why Callum hired you.

“I’ve never seen you hang out with her even once in my entire life,” Nadia scowls. “This is why you’re an asshole. We’ve barely been broken up for a few days, and you’ve already found a rebound. It’s fucking disgusting.”

Callum blinks disinterestedly. “Can you chill out already? I already told you we’re just friends. Ask her if you don’t believe me. Besides, do you really think you know every single person I’m friends with? I’m allowed to have my own social life, you know.”

“Oh, so you’ve been hiding the fact that you’re this close to another girl, even while we were dating? Congratulations, you basically just admitted to cheating on me.”

You’re convinced that death would be a more merciful punishment than having to sit through the rest of this.

“Fucking hell,” Callum sighs. He nudges you on the arm. “Hey, can you believe this shit? She’s crazy, am I right? Even though we’re broken up, she’s still acting like she owns my ass.”

“Eat a dick, Callum,” Nadia spits.

“But isn’t that your job?” he muses.

“Ugh!” she screams again. “I can’t fucking stand you!”

Just like that, she storms off, and honestly? Good riddance. You’re not sure how much more secondhand embarrassment you could have possibly stomached.

Now that she’s gone, you can finally breathe normally again. But it’s not as if everything is just fine and dandy, and you turn towards Callum with a look of frustration.

“What happened to only being your friend?” you ask exasperatedly. “I thought we agreed on those terms beforehand.”

“But I told her right away that I was just joking. And I promised not to tell anyone else we’re dating or anything. I just wanted to see how she would react.”

You frown. Granted, he didn’t try to deceive her for very long, but the whole thing still makes you feel rather icky.

Even though you already know the answer to your question, you decide to ask it anyways.

“So… she’s your ex-girlfriend?” you clarify.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Callum takes a sip of his coffee, then lets out a heavy sigh. “She’s fucking crazy is what she is. But I figured she would act like that. Even though she’s the one who broke up with me, she still has the nerve to get jealous and possessive. I’m sorry she was so rude to you, though. I wasn’t trying to make you her target. I figured she would only bitch me out.”

It was definitely off-putting, to say the least, but setting Nadia’s behavior aside for the moment, you need to get to the bottom of this.

“Am I right in assuming that you deliberately sat outside the store so that she would see us together?” you ask.

Callum blinks a few times, and after a brief pause, he smiles.

“I guess you’re not the type who can easily be fooled, huh? Yeah, I’ll own up to it. I know her class schedule, and she always swings by to get coffee at this hour. I was curious to see how she’d act when she saw me with another girl.”

You had a feeling that might be the case. Which means he used you to try and make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

You don’t really like the sound of that.

“Was it a bad breakup?” you ask. “If you’re going out of your way to try and make her feel jealous, I’m guessing it can’t have ended on amicable terms.”

Callum shrugs. “No worse than all the other times she broke up with me before.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“She does this constantly,” he says, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “I don’t know what her problem is, but she always finds something else to bitch about, and she catches me off-guard every single time. The day will be going perfectly fine, then bam—she breaks up with me again. I guess I’m starting to get pretty fed up, so I figured a bit of jealousy would make her rethink her choices.”

You shift uncomfortably. “Uh… but wouldn’t it be better to just move on? I don’t think trying to make her feel bad is a good use of your time. It sounds exhausting. She clearly doesn’t appreciate you, so maybe you should stop giving her so many second chances.”

“What do you mean? We’re going to get back together,” he blinks. “I doubt it’ll even take that long. A few weeks at most. I just want her to think twice about it the next time she considers breaking up with me. If she sees me hanging around you a lot, even if we’re just friends, she’ll get insecure and come back to me. She’s probably already worried that you’re going to steal me away from her.”

“You… want to get back with her?” you gape. “But why? It doesn’t sound like either of you is happy. I realize it’s not really my business, but objectively speaking, I don’t think a relationship where you’re constantly being broken up with is in any way healthy.”

Callum chuckles. “Don’t worry, I know.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. People would call what we have a toxic relationship, right?”

You nod weakly. It sounds like he has some self-awareness, yet in spite of that, he’s actively embracing this kind of self-destructive behavior.

Honestly, you’re not sure whether to be appalled or impressed.

“Some people just end up together, one way or another,” he shrugs. “That’s what me and Nadia are like. We make each other crazy, but we’re still the only right match for one another. You get what I mean?”

No. Not even a little bit.

It’s not your place to comment on someone else’s relationship. You know that, despite all the red flags that both of them are clearly giving off. It really, really doesn’t seem like they’re happy, but they’re grown adults, at the end of the day. If they want to be together, it’s their decision to make.

“Anyways, I just wanted to see how she’d react to hearing I had a new girlfriend, but I promise I won’t make jokes like that anymore,” Callum reassures. “All I want is for you to keep hanging out with me as a friend, so that Nadia finally gets her shit together. I don’t expect you to do anything special. Just spend time with me so that she sees us, and that’s more than enough.”

“Do you really think she’ll want to get back with you?” you ask unsurely. “Because this might just have the opposite effect. You could end up really pissing her off and pushing her further away. I don’t know if jealousy is ever the right solution.”

“Don’t worry,” he muses. “I know Nadia, which is why I can predict exactly how this will go. All this breaking up has gotten really annoying, so I want her to realize that I’m a catch, and that if she keeps playing games, one day I might just leave her for someone else.”

As far as you’re concerned, someone who chooses to torment their significant other instead of being compassionate and honest with them is hardly a catch. You suppose that goes for both of them, though. God. Their relationship sounds like an absolute fucking nightmare.

Still, you take a moment to assess your options. It’s true that this situation is wildly uncomfortable, but in terms of the actual job, you won’t be expected to do much. Callum has promised not to lie about you being his girlfriend again (and seriously, one more strike and he’s out), which means all you have to do is hang out with him sometimes. Of course, all of this is being done with the intention of making Nadia jealous, and while she certainly doesn’t seem like the nicest person, it still makes you feel a bit guilty.

“I’m not sure about this,” you admit. “I’m not going to judge you, because everyone has their own stuff going on, and every relationship is different, but you’d essentially be paying me to try and make someone else feel shitty.”

“Not shitty,” he corrects. “Jealous.”

“Jealousy is just another variation of shitty.”

“But it’s not like I’m doing this for fun,” he insists, even though the shit-eating grin he had earlier would suggest otherwise. “I want to put an end to her bullshit. Maybe she’ll finally mature a bit and start treating me better. It’ll be a wake-up call. So, don’t think of it as making Nadia feel bad, but think of it as helping fix a relationship.”

He smiles brightly, but after the horrible exchange you just witnessed, you have serious doubts that their relationship can ever be fixed.

As always, your strong sense of morality poses an issue. But maybe it’s like Ava says, and you need to stop worrying about everyone else and just focus on yourself for a change. No matter what advice you try to give him, Callum is determined to get back with Nadia. He’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible, with or without your involvement.

It’s just hanging out as friends. Ultimately, that’s all you’re doing. You’re not going to be cruel to Nadia, or even antagonize her. You’ll just mind your own business and be a good sport. Whatever happens happens.

Everyone makes a living one way or another, so why should you feel ashamed about how you make yours?

“Fine,” you concede, and Callum perks up immediately, just short of letting out a cheer. “But like we agreed on before, we’re just hanging out as friends. You’re not allowed to lie to people and tell them I’m your girlfriend. I get that earlier was just a joke, but if it happens again, I’m not going to keep doing this. Alright?”

“That sounds totally fair,” he agrees.

“Okay. Then I guess I’m on board. I hope whatever’s going on with you two, it all works out in the end.”

Callum turns away from you.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbles, staring dead-eyed off into space. “I’ll make sure it does.”

Since Callum already paid for your time today, you spent the rest of it by finishing up your coffee and grabbing a bite to eat. You took your meals to-go and sat down in the grass, enjoying the sunshine. It was kind of fun, you have to admit. Like a little picnic.

You’re not quite sure what to make of Callum. He deceived you, admittedly, but he’s been pretty transparent from that moment onwards. He said he wasn’t really sure how to breach the topic of making his ex jealous over the app, and figured it would be better explained in person. To some extent, that is true, but you still wish he would have been fully honest from the start.

But all in all, there’s not much room for confusion. Your job is incredibly simple—you just have to spend time with him every now and then, ideally in places where Nadia can see the two of you together publicly, and you’ll be paid for it.

Perhaps the twinge of guilt you feel is necessary, because without it, you pretty much are getting paid to do basically nothing.

Well, you can’t really complain. Most people in your position probably wouldn’t either.

“Damn, time to go already?” Callum whines. “That sucks. I was hoping we could hang out some more. But I guess we both have classes now.”

“It’s not like we won’t be seeing each other again. But yeah, this was fun. Apart from when your ex-girlfriend called me a bitch,” you add.

“Sorry again about that. She’s batshit insane.”

Thus far, you have yet to hear him say a single positive thing about Nadia, and based on what you saw, she didn’t have particularly glowing reviews of him either.

If that’s how they treat each other when people are watching, what kind of things must they say when no one else is around?

You shudder at the thought.

But whatever. As far as friends go, Callum is chill, and it’s to know that he’s not expecting anything more. Setting aside his relationship problems, he seems like a pretty fun, easygoing guy.

“Do you go to parties on campus?” Callum asks. He stands up from the grass and dusts his pants off. “I was thinking that’d be a great place for us to hang out. Nadia will either be there, or she’ll hear that we were together from one of her nosy friends. Plus, I can introduce you to some cool guys I know. A couple of them are single, if you’re interested. Oh, but would you even be okay to date? Since you’re doing this job and all.”

“Probably not,” you admit. “I doubt my partner would feel comfortable knowing that I’m pretending to be someone else’s girlfriend. Once I get into a relationship, I won’t be doing this anymore. But it’s fine, since I’m not really looking to date right now. I just wanted to try something new.”

“Well, you must be doing a good job, because it says you’ve got a five-star rating,” Callum grins, holding up his phone.

You blush. “Um… thanks. I’ve only had one other client so far, but he seemed happy, so I guess there’s that.”

“I’m guessing you actually pretended to be his girlfriend? What was that like?”

“It was fine. I can’t get into personal details, but he had some family-related issues, and it seemed like having me around helped.”

“That’s nice. I wasn’t sure what to think of this app at the start, but I’d say it worked out for the best. I can see us being actual friends, to be honest.”

“But when you eventually get back with your ex, won’t that complicate things? Because I’m pretty sure she already hates my guts.”

“Oh. Right.”

Looks like he didn’t think things through that far, and it’s kind of cute how disappointed he seems all of a sudden. He’s actually pouting.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “Nadia will calm down at some point. Probably.”

I highly doubt that.

For obvious reasons, it seems like your friendship with Callum is already destined to be short-lived, but it’s fine. You’ll enjoy it while it lasts. You have to admit, it does feel good putting yourself out there every now and then. You should thank Ava for helping you work up the nerve in the first place.

“I’m headed that way,” you point, “so it looks like we’re splitting up here. But it was nice getting to know you. I had fun, and I hope you did too.”

“Sure did,” Callum hums. “Hold up one second. I’ll transfer the money right now.”

You receive your payment, which concludes yet another job. Although this job has technically just started. You wonder how long it’ll take for Nadia to get back with him. Callum sounds awfully confident about it, but you’re not so sure.

You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see.

“Bye, [Name],” Callum waves. “See you soon!”

“See you around,” you nod, and soon enough, you both go your separate ways.

It’s actually a good thing you got to chill with Callum for a bit, because unfortunately, you’re about to head into your absolute least favorite class. The professor is a real hard-ass and does a terrible job of teaching the course content, not to mention how difficult his assignments are. Everyone taking the class is miserable, and it shows.

When you step inside the lecture hall, however, the atmosphere feels especially depressing.

“Take your seats,” the professor barks. You’re one of the last few to enter the room, and you hurry towards the closest unoccupied spot.

It doesn’t take long to figure out why everyone looks like they want to die.

“I want to hurry up and get started with this, because it’s going to take up a lot of time,” the professor says. He paces back and forth, and your eyes widen as you finally take note of the powerpoint being displayed on the projection screen.

Oh, please no. Don’t do this to us.

“I’m assigning a project that will make up a big chunk of your final grade,” he goes on to state. “I have already paired students up, so no, you will not be allowed to work with a friend. Each pair has also been assigned a research project at random. I’ve found that it’s far too difficult to make everyone happy, and the process of approving project ideas is a pain in itself, so you will be given pre-approved topics and they are not subject to change.”

For fuck’s sake. Not only are you not allowed to pick partners, but you don’t even get to pick your own research topic either? You can already tell this is going to massively suck ass.

The professor changes the powerpoint slide, then gestures towards the screen. “There you go. Take a good look, because I’ve listed everyone’s partners up there, as well as what topic you’ve been assigned. Like I said, this is going to be a very demanding project worth a lot of your grade, so it’s in your best interest to get started as soon as possible. You will not be able to finish in time if you leave it until the last minute.”

You sigh tiredly. People are letting out quiet, resigned groans left and right. By the looks of things, no one’s gotten lucky enough to be paired up with a friend. The professor probably went out of his way to pair up people who don’t normally sit next to each other in class.

Anyways, it sounds like you’ll be working with some guy named Theo. Needless to say, you have no clue who he is, since you hardly interact with anyone in this class. You’re too busy trying to keep up with the ridiculous workload.

Also, is it just your imagination, or did you somehow end up with what sounds like the hardest topic of all?

Knowing your luck, it probably is.

“Take a moment to get acquainted with your partner,” the professor instructs. “I’ll give everyone some time to exchange contact information and whatever else is necessary. But move quickly, because I’d like to move onto explaining the project outline. Let’s not drag our feet, people.”

The whole class collectively groans again, and after a moment’s delay, everyone stands up from their seats and moves around the room trying to figure out who they’ve ended up with.

“I’m looking for Theo,” you call out, raising your hand to be better seen. “Does anyone know who Theo is?”

No one responds. It looks like some of the other students, the more vocal ones, have already found their partners, but yours seems to be nowhere in sight.

Balls. Is he absent today? That would make things a hell of a lot more troublesome.

You keep calling out his name, and slowly but surely, the crowd of students begins to dwindle. Having met up with their partners, students sit down and start getting acquainted.

Just as you’re about to give up, someone approaches you from behind.

“Um… excuse me. S-Sorry. I’m… Theo.”

You turn around to face your partner, who regretfully, seems to be making a conscious effort not to look you in the eye.

“Oh, you’re Theo?” you say, offering a quick smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m [Name]. Is it just me, or does our research topic sound like it’s going to be a massive pain?”

Theo doesn’t answer. He barely even gives a begrudging nod, then without further explanation, walks away from you and sits down.

This is already off to a great start.

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incorrect-spideytorch · 8 months ago

Text

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about spideytorch lately (as I am one to do) and a question popped into my head:

What is the most important spideytorch comic panel?

There’s a ton of great options in my opinion, but I think there also is an answer (at least for me) so now I am going to subject all of you to my thought process. Get ready for a way to long post breaking this down.

The most obvious starting point has to be this classic

Johnny Storm is going full house husband for Peter Parker, I mean c’mon! add in the fact that he’s in his undies and the way that he’s leaning over peter… yeah this is a classic. This might be the most famous spideytorch panel out there, but I don’t think it’s the most important one.

Another classic (but more antagonistic?) one takes place, of course, at the usual place.

To me this is peak identity shenanigans and the stuff that fanfics are made of. The betrayal, the heartbreak, the complications that go into the conflicting way these two view identity, oh boy I could talk about that shit for hours, but as an individual moment, it doesn’t really crack most important for me, it needs a bit more affection (they’re very bad at affection sometimes).

Another panel that came to mind very quickly for me is this set.

Johnny literally only had to say his name and Peter knew exactly what he meant and what he needed. This is top tier levels of communication, both between them and from the creators to us. I think this is another one that I could talk about for hours. That being said, it doesn’t feel important enough to me.

A friend in the spideytorch discord server posed this panel as the most important spideytorch moment in the comics.

I’m just gonna put their quote in cause it’s great. “I think this is one of my favorite panels cause Johnny was just speaking generally and Peter was like ‘oh my god! Actual wise words form johnny’ but also, I love that this was a more important moment for Peter than Johnny.” I must say, this entry is extremely important to spideytorch and gave my choice a run for its money. I don’t have a huge reason for not making this one the most important, other than personal taste. For their relationship, this is a key moment and sets them on the path to actually being friends (at least on Peter’s end), but idk it just wasn’t doing it for me.

Another panel I was reminded of thanks to this submission was this moment.

It’s not quite as impactful as the past one by a long shot but I do think it’s important. After being rivals for so long, to see Johnny give a genuine heartfelt compliment to Peter is fantastic (haha). This feels like the other half of the previous set of panels. There we had Johnny encouraging a stranger and here he’s encouraging his friend.

Some other friends in the discord server suggested the moment that Johnny invites Peter over to watch his sex tape (yes this is canon).

(Not pictured, Peter swinging away and saying he needs to take a cold shower). Now I’m not saying that the most important spideytorch moment needs to be serious, but I think this moment might be too unserious to claim that title. This moment was huge for the fanbase because holy shit did, he actually say that, but for their relationship, I just don’t think it was as important as it was to us.

Now I do want to knock out a few honorable mentions that I would hate to miss.

First, this look given to Spidey by Johnny, I mean yeah, he’s in love.

And to balance the lovesick flirty scales I must expose Peter as well.

Next, this heartbreaking moment that basically admits to the audience that Peter’s world becomes chaos when he loses Johnny. That shit hits.

Of course, the moment that gave us the ship name.

A panel that lives in my head rent-free because honestly marvel what were you attempting to convey here other than the fact that Peter really wants to have hate sex with Johnny Storm?

To take us outside of our duo, this quote from Ben Grimm (EDIT: it’s was Peter’s clone Ben Reilly, which honestly only adds more drama), because honestly same.

And of course, I have to include the panel which showed us the first time (on page) that Peter told Johnny he loved him AND gave us canon proof that these two have “date night,” many a fic writer was fed well.

And how could we forget! THE USUAL PLACE! Literally any panel mentioning this is top tier because its so good, like the core of the fandom honestly.

Lastly, before moving on to my own more serious contenders I have to share this parallel that @sciderman shared because I love it.

Now to my serious contenders for the title of most important spideytorch panel (please remember this is all my opinion and I mean no shade). This will be a top 5, but just know some of these rankings are pretty flexible (even flexible with some panels from the beginning), and this question should not be taken as seriously as I am taking it, I am fully aware of that.

Number 5!

So, I know that I discounted the sex tape scene earlier because I didn’t think it was serious enough and it didn’t do enough for their actual relationship, but I had to include this one I’m sorry. A lot of this is personal taste but the implications here are *chefs kiss* The first time I saw this panel was actually on Pinterest with the caption “wait a second, did spider-man and the human torch have sex?” which says it all for me.

Beyond that, this moment also shows how they reach out to each other when they have problems. Strange children show up in Peter’s life and the first person he calls about it is Johnny. Again, this is not the most serious, but I love it. This moment shows the banter of their relationship, how they care about and rely on each other, and also potentially reveals that they’ve had sex. There’s a lot to take in.

Number 4!

I will be honest with you all, this moment is here almost entirely because Ben’s quote lives in my head rent-free. Everyone around them sees how they feel about each other besides them. When they were rivals others could tell they actually liked each other and when they became friends others could tell that it was deeper than that. I think I especially love this panel because it conforms that we’re not crazy for thinking there’s something there but also because Ben specifically cites the way Johnny looks at peter. That is very specific and says a lot. I can’t imagine Ben would say this if the looks Johnny gave Peter were purely platonic, and just ahhhh, there’s so much said here just in one line from Ben. There was of course the Ben moment earlier, which I also love, but something about this one, the more specific phrasing of it I think just shoots it up my rankings a lot.

Number 3!

If you’ve been following me for a while I don’t think this is a surprise at all, I have already done a very in depth post about this panel so I’ll keep my thoughts brief. Red Skull knows that hurting Johnny will hurt Peter, Peter’s Spidey senses go off FOR JOHNNY, and we are given so much angst potential, I love it.

Number 2!

This one is probably a more popular choice than my number one, and I totally get it. The excitement and joy bursting out of Peter when he finally realizes that Johnny is here, he’s real, and he’s alive really gets me. Plus, the added context to the uniform comment being that Johnny literally left Peter his family and his spot on the team in his will. The amount of pure love in this moment and its larger context is abundant, platonic or romantic, it’s there. I feel like everything I could say about this panel has probably been said before, but it is definitely worthy of being the most important spideytorch moment, even if I have one that beats it for me.

Number 1!

For those of you who don’t know, this panel comes from Peter visiting Gwen’s grave and talking to her. That fact alone breaks me in half but then the things he says to her shatter me. Every spider-man fan knows how much Gwen’s death broke Peter, it destroyed him to lose her. Just the fact that Peter admits Johnny brings part of him back is amazing (haha) because that is a hug feat. But then he shatters me even more with his final sentences. After Gwen’s death, we often get a peter who spends too much time as Spidey in order to avoid having to cope with Gwen’s death as Peter, but also as a way to cope with the loss (he’s a complicate man). Spideypool also gets a lot from that arc because of Wade’s reaction to Spider-Man not holding back as much and becoming less of a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and that’s true. The fact that Peter feels like he’s becoming who Spidey is supposed to be again when he’s around johnny is huge! But then! He corrects himself. He’s not Spidey again, he’s Peter. The real person, the man behind the mask, comes back. And then you get the final correction. He’s not just peter again, he’s *Gwen’s* peter again. He is the him that existed with Gwen when he’s with Johnny. That speaks volumes and breaks whatever parts of me are left. How am I expected to read this and not think that Johnny and Peter are soulmates?

Now, I will acknowledge that this is much more of a peter moment than a joint spideytorch moment, much like the moment suggested by discord friend earlier. If that disqualifies it for you as the most important spideytorch panel, I get it. However, for me that doesn’t matter mainly for one key reason. So many classic spideytorch moments show a lot of Johnny having feelings for Peter or making a move on Peter. There have been a lot of times when I’m trying to get a friend into spideytorch, and I feel like I have to clarify that its not as one sided as it seems. Johnny is much more out there with who he is and doesn’t hide his feelings very well (except maybe from himself). So, when we get any spideytorch moment that hones in on peter’s feelings and love for Johnny, that feels so huge to me. This moment alone proves that it isn’t one sided, Peter has deep feelings for Johnny, even if he’s not sure what they are yet, he knows that what they have is special, he wouldn’t be telling Gwen about it otherwise. While it may not be as famous of a spideytorch moment, its an important one, and for me it’s probably the most important one.

Anyway, this has been a way too long post about this topic but if you made it to the end thank you so much! I would love to hear other people’s thoughts on this topic so feel free to share those. Also, just a reminder that these are my opinions, and I am not in charge at all so don’t take it too seriously (unless you want to).

If you’re interested in hearing me, go more in depth on any of these panels (or any other spideytorch panels) shoot me an ask because I could honestly talk in depth for a while about most of these panels and I would love to do so. Thank you again for reading this way to long post and good night spideytorch nation.

#spideytorch #alt descriptions coming soon!#peter parker #johnny storm #peter x johnny #peter parker x johnny storm #mine :)#fantastic four #spider-man #marvel #comics #spideytorch meta #marvel meta #enjoy my chaos

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 8 months ago

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Hazbin Hotel residents and staff lineup! (+ Cherri Bomb)

They are all done!!

I am so happy with all of them and am incredibly excited to continue adding to this lineup! I’ve already got 2/4 extras finished so we’ll see how things go! I hope I’ll be able to finish them but after 19 hours of drawing for 5 days I think I may explode eventually.

In order from shortest to tallest we have: Niffty (4’6”), Van/Vaggie (5’11”), Charlie (6’6”), Husker (6’7”), Cherri Bomb (6’8”), Alastor (7’0”), Sir Pentious (7’5”), Angel Dust (8’4”).

Very tall people!! Wow!

It’s really nice to see them all together like this and not all of them entirely red and pink. I like red but my god use it in moderation, christ.

For anyone wondering or wanting to do something with these, here are my colour palettes for each of them.

Some of the colours in Angel’s are from other artworks so don’t mind that. Keep in mind my designs aren’t really TV friendly in my style, but I’m sure theres a way to simplify them to fit the criteria. Some of their proportions are also a bit questionable but honestly I like it. I know some people hate how Vivzie gives angel those weird feet but I’m unreasonably attached to them and I love his fucked up legs.

I really love when lineups feel alive, I think I pulled it off well enough! I want to kiss all of them on the head except Alastor because I hate him, but also half of these people are infinitely taller than me. I believe their personalities are much more clear through my poses than whatever the current ones have going on

(I didn’t create or format this colour palette lineup but if you know who did please tell me!!)

All of the characters are so goddamn pink and red it hurts my eyes

Ive said it like a billion times but I should be able to tell whats happening in a scene from a quick glance or at least where people are placed. Maybe it’s just my shit eyes but like seriously man.

I’m probably gonna add more to this post soon but I have 3 more redesigns finished and I really really want to show them off because they alone took 8 hours to finish. Im very impatient and I need to show off my horrible creatures immediately.📺🧵💡

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miss-eli-starfleet · 7 months ago

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My critique of CW’S The Flash

The Flash is one of my absolute favourite shows, and I think it deserves one of these. Yes my favourite shows deserve critiques because there are changes I would’ve liked to see instead. This is all just my opinion on the show, not exactly hating it. Plus.. I saw someone else doing something similar to here goes.

Imma be clear at the start. I don’t hate WestAllen, just really really disappointed with how they were written in the latter seasons sometimes.

Props to every actor in the Flash who put all their effort into the show whether the script was cringe or not.

Season 1-2 was FIRE. No complaints. Loved the WestAllen.

Season 3 was good,

but I think they could’ve done Savitar better. Still liked him as the big bad being depressed/emo!Barry. I’ll say that I got really attached to Harry in S2 which made me wonder why they have HR there at all? The dude grew on me, and he added humour to the team, but honestly between him and Harry, it could’ve easily been Harry. Though it means he would die at the end.. so I’m glad Season 3 had HR Wells instead sorry not sorry.

The relationship between Julian Albert and Barry was so fun to watch. Which reminds me, LOVED Eobard’s appearance as Matt Letscher in 3x01. I have no idea why they continue to use Wells’ face like bruh. Your pretending as Wells is over so like why. GIMME MORE MATT!EOBARD.

I loved Frost???

Season 4 was also great.

I’d say more quality than season 3 because it was their first time against a big bad that WASN’T a speedster yet posed a more than adequate challenge to the team. The plot was nice and unique (I really loved Hazard!). I’ll say that DEVOE was kinda showing some red flags before becoming the Thinker in his relationship with Marlize, like he seemed kinda overly possessive of her. Glad that she switched to helping Team Flash after seeing what her husband had become. Loved her “Thinker’s first victim” line.

I felt like they started focusing on Cecile too much? Her role was vital to the plot at the end with helping Barry hop into Devoe’s mind to retrieve Ralph. And speaking of Ralph, I was neutral towards the character at first, but he grew on me. Also why fire him for sometning he did like 10yrs ago. That made no sense. I’d rather Ralph than more Cecile or Allegra.

LOVED ALL THE BANTER BETWEEN HARRY AND CISCO. And FROST FROST FROST!!! I liked her S4 outfit. I also think Barry’s supersuit was the best in this season.

One of my favourite episodes was “Flashtime”. Awesome awesome filler episode.

Season 5 was also great.

Barry’s supersuit was trash tho imo. He just looks like a weird deformed strawberry.

Above average but not quite as good as S4. LOVED NORA WORKING WITH THAWNE then Barry finding out and tossing her into the pipeline cell lol. Just the betrayal, and then dumping her in the middle of a random street in the future. Loved all the father-daughter moments she had with Barry. Cool to see the writers creativity in “meta-tech”.

However Iris.. bro in 5x19 she has some issues bringing up the fact Barry NEEDED to go into the Speedforce TWICE. And then her telling Barry to his face that she didn’t care that Nora was working with Thawne. Like bro, he murdered your husband’s mother and caused sm problems. And you don’t care about that?? Good to see that Barry called her out in the end.

Imma complain about freaking Sherloque again. Why not Harry? Even after what happened to him in S4, I think he could’ve figured out that Nora is secretly working with Thawne. Like dude’s still smart af.

Nora getting erased from existence at the very end.. sad :( I miss S5 Nora

Season 6.

I feel like this is when everything started going downhill. I didn’t care for Mirror Monarch. The mirror!Iris storyline was interesting to see. Idk what happened the rest of the season. That’s how much I didn’t care for this season lol. I think the other half was about Ramsey and how he wanted to make everyone zombies. Man I HATED Sue Dearborn or however you spell her name. She just took up too much screentime. This is when it started feeling like “Iris & Friends” instead of “The Flash”.

Liked to see how Barry dealt with slowly losing his speed bc he was killing the speedforce lol. Liked how the Caitlin/Frost duo became separate people. It was cool. At least we got that lol.

I think this is when Allegra comes in. I honestly can’t stand her. Like the whole her and her sister trope? Why.

The one thing I did like was Barry’s artificial speedforce gave him speed thinking. Awesome episode to watch. EXCEPT NASH. WHY. His sacrifice is useless in the end because of the whole “Iris is Barry’s lightning rod” thing. Have nothing about a speedster’s lightning rods in the comics, just didn’t like how that was written into the show. It eventually got really annoying.

Season 7.

Where do I even begin. This is when Barry’s “children” became a thing, and then suddenly speedforce!Nora wanting to kill all of them? Like what??? Where did that come from? Dion’s storyline was interesting. The rest were just.. Meh. And the CGI was so cringe.

I loved Abra Kadabra??? Why they gotta kill him off in one episode.

Does Chillblaine start coming in this season? I dislike him in general.

Season 8.

THIS IS WHEN BARRY’S ACTUAL CHILDREN COME BACK.

Now with Nora getting erased in S5, I really would’ve preferred if they gave us Tornado Twins instead. Like you can even use the same actors, but I honestly don’t really like the new Nora. I did like seeing her interaction between her and her family.

Also. Bart. I. Have. Major. Problems. I LOVE Bart but he is supposed to be Barry’s GRANDSON. Give us Don Allen instead. I did like the episode where they messed up the timeline, went back to 2013 and then accidentally reset Jay into the timeline. Also loved the episode with the whole Barry and the gamma radiation making him age hella fast. Bro was basically a zombie at the end and still overloaded the machine with the speedforce.

The. Stupid. Power Rangers godspeed arc was shit and them being Bart’s Thawne-like arch nemesis. Like boy, don’t compare Thawne with your godspeed problems. Don’t even start. Also what is with the “Negative Forces” and “Positive Forces” Power Rangers thing and then Iris’ time sickness? At this point, The Flash just started to feel like a soap opera.

I liked Chester even though he was a “replacement” for Cisco. He was unique. But the whole Allegra/Chester budding relationship where did that come from?? It just seemed very cringe and didn’t do much for the plot besides drama I guess. Khione was meh. Like just give us Caitlin with Frost in some way. I don’t care about Khione and her arc. Pls give us more Barry and not so much Cecile and Allegra.

Season 9

The show should just be renamed “Power Rangers: Iris & Friends” at this point. They made an entire episode without Barry?? Like if I pick up a Flash comic book, I expect it to be about THE FLASH. Not his random friends. Like yes, his friends can make appearances but don’t give me a whole dang episode without Barry THE MAIN CHARACTER. Also how the hell did Cecile become that OP, where is the character development.

Idk where Chillblaine comes in but I just don’t like him, not to mention that I don’t like the relationship between him and Frost. Like what.

Eddie’s Cobalt Blue arc and Red Death arc could’ve been done WAY better. I didn’t see any plot relevance in any way. It was written so poorly. Red Death was just like evil speedster!Batman or something. Please don’t bring our beloved Eddie back if you gonna write him all just jealous of Barry and him somehow becoming the new avatar of the Negative Speedforce. And what does Batwoman have anything to do with this (I believe she appears in the finale villains arc)l

There is legit only one episode I like in S9. The one that comes “full circle”. The one where Barry gets stuck in 2000, gets to chill with his parents for one day, and then comes full circle with Matt!Eobard killing Nora. SEASON 1 QUALITY. They even use the same bg music which awwww. And the “If I can spend one more day with my parents, then what would I say to them?” Line? Chef’s kiss.

Did not like the finale. His final run speech was okay about sharing his gift. Definitely would’ve preferred if Barry became the lightning bolt that struck him in S1 like in the comics.

Idk which episodes: Loved all the Amunet & Frost storyline, and then Goldface time to time appearances. Especially “Officer Chemist” lol.

#this was long af #dc #dc comics #Barry Allen #the flash #Iris west #WestAllen #cisco ramon #caitlin snow #Harrison wells #Eobard Thawne #reverse flash #eli speaks

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nijigasakilove · 4 months ago

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Incredible finale. I honestly haven’t this locked in to a show like in terms of binging in a very long time, took me back to early Covid days. Without a doubt the best piece of terminator media we’ve had since T2, it’s well clear of salvation.

The first few episodes really had me thinking it was just T2 and T1 mashed together, but the Japanese version. Malcolm looks just like the dude that Arnold and Sarah are trying to protect in T2, resistance fighter from the future etc etc. But I like how we ended up focusing on the philosophical aspect of man and machine, rather than the usual save the world stuff, we get asked if the world is even worth saving.

Ngl when Kokoro was asking Malcolm all that stuff about what humanity has actually given the world instead of just taken from it, I couldn’t come up with an answer either. Some really interesting ideological questions were posed for sure.

So many twists in this last episode I had my jaw on the floor. Malcolm coming from the future was a wtf, Misaki I had a feeling was a robot anyway from the first episode, so that wasn’t too much of a shock but what was shocking was her relationship with Malcolm in the OG timeline and how she was the basis for Kokoro. She was best girl tho and I’d absolutely take out my own unit to protect her.

Eiko being Malcolm’s mother tho wtf?? Kenta brokering a peace deal between skynet and sending the terminator back was probably the biggest shock for me. But it does line up with his character throughout the show who was always skeptical of Misaki and the machines.. just a lot of WTF twists and multiple timelines, I really hope they do more with terminator in this universe because there’s a lot of cool possibilities. We also don’t know what Kokoro will get up to now!

Hate that Malcolm had to go out like that, but i guess it was necessary to give Kokoro the right answer in the end.. just really enjoyed this one, well done production IG.

#animangahive #animanga #animanga hive #anime #summer anime 2024 #anime summer 2024 #terminator #terminator zero

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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Hey Raven! Hope you're doing well, and I hope you had a great holiday, if you celebrate, that is.

I hate to clutter your ask box with something like this, and you don’t have to answer, you can just read this with an open mind, but I feel you're the only one I could go to with this without being straight-up attacked. It's also why I'm asking anonymously.

But, what's your stance on the whole war between the JP and EN versions of the game? I'm not asking you to pick a side or anything, I just wanna know your thoughts.

Obviously, I'm an EN player, and idk if you seen, but there's some hateful things out there about us, and honestly, it's hurtful and disheartening to every time I get up here. And it's always on this we as players can't control. Mainly the dialog translations and it's changes.

I've seen people calling us dumb and weak, saying we water down everything because we can't take it, etc. I've seen people saying we don't know how to really correctly and analyze characters and that we're not even playing the same game. They say we've ruined the game, the fandom, and that they wished it was never localized. I've also seen quite horrible things, but I don’t wanna repeat the things said, but yeah.

And the kicker is, it's only the JP side I've seen post this stuff. I've seen more hate come from that side more than anything, and of course not all, like you. You're my fave btw.

So yeah, thoughts?

Hello, hello! ^^ I’m not really a super big celebration person but I’m hunkering down for a cozy hibernation this winter ❄️ I hope everyone had/will have a good 2023 holiday season~

Before I provide my response to the question posed in this ask, I want to make sure we're all on the same page for this discussion first:

Please be advised that my perspective is coming from that of someone who started off playing JP in March 2020 and then picked up EN when it came out in January 2022. I have played on both servers since their initial launches.

When I refer to TWST JP and EN fans in this post, I am only referring to the English speaking fans (as in, English speaking fans who play JP and English speaking fans who play EN).

For the sake of simplicity, I will be disregarding “hybrid” fans (English speaking fans who play both JP and EN) as a separate category and will lump them in with “JP” fans (English speaking fans who play JP). This is because I assume most mixed fans started off with JP and then adopted EN later on.

I am not talking about ALL English-speaking JP and/or EN fans here; I am only talking about the ones Anon described in their ask.

As the Anon said, I ask that you go into this post with an open mind; do not assume that I will bash JP and/or EN, take sides, defend or condone toxic attitudes, or that this post exists just to “stir the pot”. That is not the purpose of my response. The purpose is to have a meaningful and constructive discussion about TWST’s fandom culture, particularly as it pertains to English-speaking fans. I hope that in talking about this, we can better understand “the other side” (however you may personally define that) and work toward making the fandom space more welcoming for all.

Please read the entire post and think about your own choice of words before commenting and/or sending in an ask about this topic, should you choose to.

To the Anon that submitted this ask and to anyone else that plays EN and may have had similar thoughts: I’m sorry to hear about the negative experiences you’ve had in the TWST fandom. I hope that this post brings you some peace of mind, if not at least some catharsis for what you may be feeling.

Firstly, it’s important to understand the mindset of both JP and EN fans. As such, I will delve into the background and the development of each side. It is NOT meant to justify either side, but rather to inform you on how each perspective originated and grew to what it is today.

The animosity and opposition to an official English version of TWST has been present for a while. An English version of TWST has always been contentious, even long before the localization was announced. Some wanted it to happen for accessibility reasons (as some people find it tedious to hunt for translations) or were supportive of the idea because it means a larger fanbase and thus more potential to make friends or to discuss the game. Others were more apprehensive of the quality of a localization (as much tends to be cut or censored to make the content more palatable) and/or claimed that expanding the fanbase in such a way would bring in more “bad apples”.

When EN first came out, it did, in fact, expand the fanbase. However, many were quick to notice the many (and I do mean many) errors and short sightings present in it: frequent spelling and grammar mistakes in the game and on official social media posts, inconsistent phrasing, incorrect translations, game-breaking glitches, frequent censorship, half-hearted promotions, etc. EN also became infamous for its absolutely brutal pacing of content in the early days, particularly related to the limited story event schedules (including back-to-back Halloween events). This, in combination with EN’s constant pushing of paid gems (which occurs far more frequently than in the JP server) has left a bad taste in JP fans’ mouths. To them, TWST EN did not make a good first impression and continued to misstep again and again. This is especially true of the many dialogue changes to make the TWST localization more “culturally appropriate” (which is the definition of what a localization is; there is a reason why TWST is not called a translation, which would be a more accurate/“faithful” or direct translation of the dialogue).

The claim that “EN fans are weak/can’t handle the real story” likely arises from how EN has removed or altered details which may offend western audiences. This includes things like the term “master”, the mention of Azul’s weight, Kalim’s “30-40” siblings, etc. These are conscious decisions made on the part of the game localizers to make TWST more broadly appealing and appropriate for a western audience, where such topics are contentious or considered taboo. This is adapting TWST to a new culture so that it can (in a dry business sense) perform well. However, I also want to mention that some cultural changes EN made do significantly alter the story/characters (such as Jamil no longer stating his family will be on the streets if they defy the Asims; in EN he only says his parents will be mad at him), particularly if you are viewing through an EN-only lens. Unfortunately 😔 as much as I can point the nuances of localization out, there will always be fans who still oppose any sort of censorship. This is also true of the anime and manga community in general, and this post isn’t large enough in scope to tackle those issues. I only mention this here to help you, the reader, better understand the changes from Disney/Aniplex.

A lot of the original negative feelings that were there before EN was announced were then confirmed by the official release, and this strengthened the dislike of EN on the part of JP fans. These JP fans may then become hostile toward EN fans who defend the localization (whether or not they have the context of TWST JP) because, in the eyes of the JP fans, the localization is not as good as it could be. Ultimately, it seems like their intense feelings stem from passion for what they love and not wishing to see it “desecrated” rather than an actual hatred of fellow fans. JP fans are upset because they fear EN fans are not getting the full scope of the characters and a story they enjoy, and they want others to appreciate those aspects of TWST as well.

Of course 💦 the fact is that EN fans are not responsible for the localization. But EN is there and that is what is the easiest and the most time efficient for English-speaking audiences, so most people will go with that rather than alternatives (ie hunting down fan translations). The issue is that some JP fans conflate simply consuming the localization as being bad or the “wrong” thing to do, and thus, by proxy, extend this frustration to EN fans themselves (especially those those are EN only and have zero prior knowledge of JP) and not just the product. Again, this is because they tend to see JP as the “full” version, without the changes or censorship present in EN. This inevitably leads to discrepancies in understanding between JP and EN, whether due to staggered release of new content or how the characters are presented differently between the two servers. To those who say “the versions are basically the same except for minor changes”, I disagree. There are several dialogue changes that appear small in isolation, but because TWST’s narrative is told primarily via dialogue, those “small” changes are actually very large and can drastically modify how one perceives a character or situation without explicit knowledge of JP to balance it out. When Jamil is made an “employee” rather than a “servant” and worries about his parents being mad at him instead of his entire family literally being on the streets for defying the Asims, it takes away the bite from his motivations. When Cater inserts a #WOW that wasn’t there in JP while Riddle is breaking down sobbing, or makes him come off as far more insensitive than emotionally aware. These are just a few examples, but they are very prominent ones that can change how an EN only fan sees things. The idea that “we aren’t even playing the same game” can ring true to some JP players because of this.

It cannot be helped that EN fans would interpret the characters and stories differently when the localization is their only or primary source of TWST content. Not everyone has the time or the desire to look for more accurate fan translations (not all fan translations are the same quality), as some JP fans have suggested. If EN fans want to, that’s great! It’s nice to expand one’s knowledge and to be cognizant of the changes between the versions. There are many blogs out there dedicated to educating people on these matters, and many EN and JP fans alike flocking there to be informed. But that level of engagement shouldn’t be demanded of anyone. To deem those that don’t engage in “further research” as “lazy”, “dumb”, or a “fake fan” is not acceptable, not in the name of love or otherwise. The expectation to “do homework” only puts pressure on EN fans to be a certain way or else be rejected by the fandom, and that only breeds more hatred and negativity. It makes EN fans feel “not worthy” of being a fan unless they study up, when the truth of the matter is that no matter how much we like TWST, it’s… media at the end of the day. People are free to consume their choice of media however they like, and that includes casually or at their own pace. It’s not fun to be in a fandom where others are breathing down your neck and policing everything you do, especially since these spaces are meant to be a temporary escape from reality. If JP fans meant to gatekeep in an effort to make others recognize the “real” greatness of TWST, then it’s failing because this kind of attitude only serves to drive new fans away.

Among EN fans, there is this idea that “JP fans are stuck-up”. I can understand where this thinking comes from, as I have witnessed hatred for EN myself which comes unprompted and has killed many conversations. Admittedly, some points are geared toward the company themselves (and those are valid), such as rushed and/or inaccurate translations or the pushing of paid gems, but I’ve also seen my fair share of nastier, invalid comments directed at EN fans. There are JP fans who actively hope that EN will shut down or who outright dismiss EN fans because of the version they play, thinking of their thoughts and opinions as “lesser” or doubting their media literacy skills. It’s true that this behavior is out there in the fandom, and that is unfortunately a sad reality.

That being said, JP on EN hate is not the only form I see, and nor is it the majority. It goes both ways (and I would say about equally for all, although this is just based on anecdotes and not objective data). There is plenty of JP on JP hate (particularly when someone spreads mistranslations around as though it were the truth) and EN on EN hate (arguments over what is and is not appropriate to ship, differences in headcanons, harassing fans that fall outside an “acceptable” age range, etc). There is also EN on JP hate which feeds into a dangerous back-and-forth with JP on EN hate. I briefly mentioned before that EN fans tend to believe JP fans are elitist, and this leads to assumptions being made about anyone that critiques EN and sometimes lashing out about it. I myself have previously been accused of “hating” EN because I often make posts commenting on the changes made between EN and JP (which ones I think work and which I think don’t). This preemptively defensive behavior drives another wedge between JP and EN fans, making JP fans reluctant to engage with EN fans, which then fuels the belief that JP fans think they’re “better” than EN fans (when really, some JP fans may be intentionally distancing themselves for their own wellbeing). Additionally, a lot of behavior deemed more acceptable in western oriented fandom spaces (such as moral justifications, taking pictures without crediting, callouts of other fans, and incorrect use of fandom tags) are not so for JP spaces (or those familiar with JP spaces). There have also been times when EN fans harass the actual Japanese-speaking side of the fandom (be it Japanese fans or the devs themselves) and demand (not ask, but demand) content that caters to them or free translations of fan comics they make. When EN fans fail to observe such “basic fandom etiquette”, it leads to JP fans thinking them rude or entitled, which makes JP fans reluctant to interact with EN fans and, again, feeds into confirmation bias. It’s a viscous system.

What is “ruining” the fandom is not just one side. There has always been turmoil present in fandom spaces. It just appears more visible now that TWST’s popularity has grown to this scale. Right now, both sides (JP and EN) are antagonizing each other because of a loud minority that’s attacking the other side. That minority then gets extrapolated and assumed to be behavior of the entirety of the other side, and that is what keeps the hate going.

If I’m being entirely honest 😔 I don’t think these tensions will realistically ever die out; the fandom is too large to “stomp out” what has already been established in its culture. When both sides are fueled by something so strong—a passion for TWST—it’s hard to seek out and/or to consider alternative perspectives. We become fixated on their own negative experiences and fail to think about where the “others” maybe be coming from, and then close ourselves off from discussion. That promotes isolation and contempt rather than friendliness and cooperation.

If we want change, then it starts at an individual level and in smaller TWST communities. We shouldn’t assume the worst of “JP” or “EN” fans; we are all TWST fans. Let’s keep open-minded and welcome other fans and their diverse schools of thought. And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, that’s also fine! You’re allow to keep a distance and curate your online space as you like; just please don’t go out of your way to disparage others, you have your own lane and others have theirs. Don’t encroach on other lanes.

Maybe we don’t necessarily agree with each other or we think may hold different opinions—but that’s good, isn’t it? The freedom of thought and the open exchange of ideas promotes flexible thinking and can lead you to see things from a new angle, or perhaps develop a new idea of your own. If we all thought the same way, then life becomes boring or it can cultivate an “us versus them” narrative that sparks online wars.

Let me put it this way to close off the post: isn’t this the message that Twisted Wonderland itself is trying to teach us? The true value of attending Night Raven College isn’t just about receiving a good education. Countless times it has been stressed to us (and often by Lilia, the oldest and wisest of the core cast, someone who used to be resistant to opening up to outsiders) that it is vital to understand other people in spite of how different we may be. Let’s take a page out of the students’ book and try to live up to that ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst en #twisted wonderland en #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #advice #Azul Ashengrotto #Riddle Rosehearts #Cater Diamond #Scarabia #Kalim Al-Asim #Jamil Viper #Lilia Vanrouge

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