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colleendoran · 1 year ago

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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

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alexiswritingstuff · 5 months ago

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Everyone can heal.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader

Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.

Genre: hurt/comfort.

Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.

This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.

A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!

Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!

I hope you enjoy!!

Logan masterlist.

It had been a long few days.

It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.

Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.

But you wanted to learn. Or... did.

The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.

See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.

It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.

Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.

Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... could’ve been more.

But you couldn't exactly blame him.

This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.

He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.

It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.

The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.

It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed.

You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer.

It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.

The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.

It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.

Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.

Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.

The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.

Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.

He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.

His eyes were closed.

At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.

Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.

Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.

Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.

Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.

You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.

You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--

And then bam.

Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.

In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.

“Whoa-- hey!”

He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.

They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.

It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.

“Logan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,” you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, “Look, it's me!” And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in.

He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.

But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.

Until his gaze lowered.

Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.

So, why did something sound like it was dripping?

“Y/n.”

By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. “Shit.”

You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.

“Logan?�� You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.

There was your answer. “Oh.”

Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?

“Fuck,” Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. “I'm…”

“I'm sorry,” he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, “I'm so sorry.”

His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.

“Logan,” You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, “Hey, look, I'm fine, okay?” you started louder, more insistent, “It doesn't hurt.”

Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. “I'm sorry.”

He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.

“No, wait,” You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, “Logan?”

You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.

But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.

~~~

The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.

It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.

You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.

But that was the last thing on your mind.

You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.

Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.

You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.

Until today.

A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.

The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.

It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.

In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.

Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.

Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.

So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.

Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.

More so who.

Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.

Logan.

He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.

There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Logan–” you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, “Just let me talk,” He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. “Okay?”

You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. “I'm sure you already know,” he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, “about the... nightmares.”

It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.

“Some are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, but…” Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. “There are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'm…”

“I'm the one doing it.” It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, “I'm the one hurting people.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry.”

“Logan,” you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. “I'm so sorry.”

You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, “Hey,” Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.

It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.

But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.

“Hey, look at me,” you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldn’t want to back off. “Look at me.”

The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. “I'm fine.” you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, “I hurt you.”

“It was an accident,” Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said should’ve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, “Accident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.” His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.

“And, I'm still here, Logan.”

You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.

A little scratch was nothing. “It was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.” you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, “What-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?”

“No!” you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. “No, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.”

You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.

“See?”

Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.

They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.

“You…” He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. “You can regenerate?”

“Granted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.” you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.

Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.

“Are you serious?” The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. “Yep.” You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, “You can heal.”

Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I... I don't really know what else you want me to say.” Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles.

It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.

I guess it just slipped your mind.

“So, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?” The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.

“A damsel?” you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. “You stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?”

That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. “No,” you started, this time with a deeper voice. “No, I didn't-- You know, why?”

“Why?” Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.

He was supposed to be relieved.

“Maybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!”

The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.

The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.

You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.

It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss.

Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?

Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired.

Just a different kind.

You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.

Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.

By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.

You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, “I get them too, you know... Nightmares.”

There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, “I wouldn't go about comparing them,”

“But, I understand enough to know what it's like.”

Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. “You shouldn't have to.”

He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. “Neither should you.. yet,” you paused, shrugging your shoulders, “Here we are.”

This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, “At least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.”

The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it.

But Logan practically snorted. “Shut up.” he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didn’t hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, “I could even say that I defeated him.”

In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, “Okay,” He swallowed, “you did not defeat me, bub.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. “You were done after one move.”

Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.

“I was distracted.” he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. “Excuses, excuses,” was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.

Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.

He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.

“I don't want it to happen again.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.

“Logan,” you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.

You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.

You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, “Even if it did, I am not going anywhere.”

There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.

Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.

By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.

Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further.

His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasn’t putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.

An extra weight that you were glad to carry.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x gn reader #wolverine #wolverine x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

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forsworned · 8 months ago

Note

It’s said canonically that simon riley has trauma around intimacy from torture 😔 If you feel comfortable writing it, can I please ask for a short fic of an Afab reader body worshipping/lovingly pleasuring Simon after they both work through his trauma and he’s getting all soft and emotional and babbling about how good reader is making him feel and how much he loves them and can’t believe someone cares about him this much? I always liked the idea of Simon being portrayed as vulnerable and soft and not this dom sex god a lot of people portray him to be. I really love your work and would love to see your take on this request :)

Soft ft. Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Author's Note: So I do recall someone making a post about this and I have to say I do not agree with everything. Men definitely process trauma, specifically sexual trauma a lot differently than women do. While women experience guilt, men experience anger. And maybe it's not all men who experience it that way, but after reading the comic and making my own assessment, I can say that Simon does have lingering anger. Of course, he is hell-bent on avenging his dead family, but all that pent-up energy could be going toward trying to even the score. He is pretty level-headed and able to compartmentalize. He has support from his comrades as well as undergoes mandatory rigorous mental health assessments because that's military protocol. He needs to be able to perform his duties on the field without putting himself or others at risk. He also most certainly gets mandatory counseling. Although he may be reluctant, his superiors are very much aware of the possible impact that it has on his mental health. So all that to say that Simon is not without help. He is not as "damaged" as people may perceive him to be. He's not a broken individual. As seen in the remastered MW's, albeit reluctant he can clearly put his trust in others. He develops relationships with the people who he works closely with meaning he is capable of change. SIGH. I just wish people would break this down a little more, but I do get what you're saying. His masculinity, trust issues, and the type of secret operations he goes on can lessen the effectiveness of the therapy. He's definitely a very complex character with layers to him, but I just don't think he's as weak as you may think he is. It's also important to note that it hasn't been confirmed that this current Simon went through the same thing. He could have a completely different background. Honestly, Activision is so fucking inconsistent but ANYWAYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I hope you enjoy this. Also if you read this all the way through, I applaud you. But thank you for enjoying my work, I didn't mean to critique you and your request, but I just couldn't let it slide LOL

Warnings: PnV sex, AFAB!Reader, Some Canon Simon Lore, Sexual Content, Mentions of Sexual Trauma

"Si—Simon..."

You sigh out in pleasure with every roll of your hips as you grind down on him. Your clit grazes against his lower abdomen, and his cock stretches you out pliant. Fingers dig into his shoulders, marking half crescents into his pale, scarred skin. But something feels off.

His hands loosen their grip on your hips, and upon opening your eyes you find him his half-lidded gaze distant in a familiar haze. He isn't present.

"Simon." You halt the rutting of your hips, cupping his stubbly cheeks. "Are you alright?"

His onyx hues fixate on you. He is clearly readjusting his withdrawn eyes to refocus on you. You didn't want to say it yet, but you had felt him go a little soft a few seconds prior. "We can stop."

"No, no." His fingers squeeze your middle as he sits up a bit. You shake your head, but he's not letting up. "Why stop?"

You firmly grasp his face and his blonde lashes flutter up at you with a seemingly unreadable expression, but you're no stranger to Simon's detachment. Although he loathes to admit it, it happens. The relearning of being intimate is tumultuous for him.

"Because you're not mentally here, my love."

He frowns. "But I want y'to finish."

You exhale sharply. He doesn't even deny it. "No, Simon. I'd feel disgusted with myself if I finished while you weren't here with me."

He struggles to reply. In all honesty, he doesn't know what to say. It's not exactly a common occurrence, but he's not too keen on having a conversation about it. You never pry though. His therapy sessions are his own, unless, of course, you join him if he so desires.

Couples counseling is mandatory. A rule you established when you first decided to tie the knot. If you had problems that were beyond just a sit-down talk, a professional would have to intervene. And Simon agreed. No fuss, no muss. To preserve the sacredness of your relationship, he'd do anything.

He sighs. "'m sorry, dovie." He caresses your sides, feeling the gooseberries on your skin rise. A small smile adorns his lips and you giggle at his smugness.

"Stop it." You begin to get off of him, but Simon holds you firmly. You feel his dick harden inside of you, now kissing your cervix. A little gasp escapes your chest as you readjust yourself.

"Y'like tha'?" Simon's grinning now. It's his confidence gleaming through the abysmal darkness of his mind. The life in his eyes feels revitalized, and you now feel his vigor—literally.

"Yes, but..."

"'m here, love." He reaffirms, squeezing your waist again. "'m here. Please, 'm achin' for you."

He groans a bit and bucks his hips when he feels you pulsate around him. You return your own moan, leaning forward but his fingers thread through your hair and he brings you into a sloppy, heated kiss. His hips thrust into you slowly and deeply, earning a guttural moan from him.

For a moment as you withdrew from the kiss, your gazes meet and Simon's eyes soften and become glossy with tears that brim over his oculars and spill over the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, baby." You coo, holding him close as you kiss his face. His sadness is silent, yet palpable. You're now babbling sweet, sweet words to him as you pepper him with kisses, and Simon holds you as if you're going to slip away. You gently guide him through the double inhale technique you learned from your therapist, and with the sweetness of your voice, the kindness in your eyes, and the tenderness of your touch, he feels at ease.

"I dunno how y'put up with me."

You grin, kissing the corner of his lip. "It ain't easy."

"Oh?" He flips you over on your back, pressing you firmly against the mattress and you giggle into the nape of his neck. "Wanna say that again, love?"

You thread your fingers through his sandy blonde hair and kiss the tip of his nose. "You're not hard to love, Simon."

His eyes soften once more and he kisses you deeply. Simon has never cherished anyone more in his life. You were always so patient and kind from the jump. You were truly the "greater woman" behind the "great man".

He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes as you gently card your fingers in his hair.

"Thank you, lovie."

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adragonprinceswhore · 5 months ago

Text

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter VI: Storms 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Aemond’s wife left him following an explosive fight last week, and he hasn’t been able to find rest since.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, depictions of a toxic relationship, possessive Aemond, shitty and useless coping mechanisms, reference to violence and injuries

Word count: 2300

A/N: Thank you always sweet sweet Justine (@theoneeyedprince) for looking this over and giving me ideas 🤭 ILY! The lyrics are interwoven with the story in this chapter, hope it makes sense! As you can tell, this is set a week after his wife left him, and before he wrote his new songs for Rumours…

‘Every night that goes between, I feel a little less’

8 hours and 25 minutes.

That’s how much sleep he’d gotten in the last week.

Since the fight.

Fights. Plural.

It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten into a physical altercation with his brother. His childhood memories are tainted by endless disputes, especially after their father died, back when Aegon would sneak out to get drunk while their mother worried sick at home.

Why was his brother seemingly incapable of behaving well? Aemond saw how his mother worried herself sick over her oldest son, while also having to deal with grieving the loss of her husband, and navigate the internal political turmoil the death of such an influential man left behind. And Aegon couldn’t even spare her further heartache.

Fucking pathetic excuse of a man.

It was, however, the first time he had hurt his wife. Physically, that is. She’d told him he’d hurt her before, when his jealousy got the best of him.

He knows he’s crossed a line. As soon as he lost his temper and threw that plate against the wall. Dangerously close to where she was standing.

He regrets it all. Why did it even have to happen in the first place? If she had just cooperated with him; worked with him instead of against him. Instead of hiding things from him, talking with Tyland behind his back.

He always knew that she’d leave. One day.

He’d never leave her.

Frustrated, Aemond lets out a quiet sigh and gets up from the bed, moving to sit on the edge, slouching as he places his head in his hands. He suddenly notices how quiet the room is; the loud thoughts echoing in his mind momentarily disappear as he ponders what he could do instead of sleeping.

He moves quietly to not wake Alys next to him, whose heavy breathing provides the only real sounds in the room. It is almost eerily quiet now that he thinks about it; such a stark contrast to the insufferable buzzing of thoughts roaming around in his head.

Rest doesn’t come to him anymore.

His mind can’t provide him with any repose. Not even for a second.

He closes the door to the bedroom with a quiet ‘click’ and exits, moving towards the balcony connected to the large, open-plan living room.

She had picked this apartment, together with him.

Our home.

The memories of going to look at cabinets for the kitchen together, choosing a sofa together, fucking on said sofa, overtake his mind before he can distract himself.

‘As you slowly go away from me’

When he realised that she’d left and wouldn’t come back, he tried to erase her from the space, shoving all of her belongings into one of the wardrobes in the spare bedroom.

He couldn’t bear to throw them out. He couldn’t bear to see them either. She’d left behind everything he’d ever given her; all gifts he’d carefully picked out for her. Seeing her wedding ring on top of the kitchen island, next to the divorce papers and the shattered plate on the floor had made his stomach turn when he came home from the hospital.

‘This is only another test’

He’d suffered much harsher trials than this.

When he lost his eye in a car crash at only 10 years old, he suffered through the most excruciating pain of his life. He had to relearn everything; how to focus his gaze, how to read and write without developing a headache, how to play his favourite sports without running into his opponents.

He’d managed all that, yet this time he felt consumed by an aching sense of dread.

A hopelessness deep in his chest.

‘Every night you do not come’

It was all too late. No turning back.

‘Your softness fades away’

He knows that the aching dread is the longing he feels for her. The thought of never touching her again, never being close to her again.

Never being in her embrace again.

He feels a chill run through his body as he settles on the armchair placed by the wall, overlooking the bright lights of King’s Landing.

Reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nearby table, he takes one out and lights it before taking a long drag, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to rest against the back of the chair.

She’d chosen the patio furniture as well.

He fucking resents himself in this moment. Why is his body, his mind, incapable of doing what he wants? Forget her. She sure as hell wants to forget him.

‘Did I ever really care that much’

‘Is there anything left to say’

When she left during the fight backstage last week, he had wanted to run after her. But then he threw one quick glance at his older brother, and could barely see his expression due to all the blood smeared over his face.

He called out to him, but Aegon didn’t answer, laying limply on the old leather sofa with one arm hanging from the side and his mouth open. That was when Jace had come back in, face turning white in an instance as he was confronted with the scene before him, pulling out his phone from his pocket with a shaky hand to call an ambulance.

Aemond went with his brother to hospital, waiting by his side until he regained consciousness while trying to calm his distressed mother and wide-eyed sister. They had looked at him in the same way she had; eyes filled with animosity. He could barely meet their gazes as shame left his cheeks scalding.

‘Every hour of fear I spend’

‘My body tries to cry’

All he could think of at that moment was coming home. Home to her. To her warmth.

‘Living through each empty night’

‘A deadly call inside’

He takes another drag of his cigarette. Not being able to sleep, to eat, to think clearly is so foreign to him. It’s like when he lost his eye; he has to relearn everything. How to fucking breath.

There’s this restlessness inside him that won’t disappear, no matter how hard he tries to exorcise it. He’d tried going for walks; his usual go-to when he needed to clear his mind.

On one of those walks he’d smoked an entire pack of cigarettes.

How much time had passed? How long had he been out? He could hardly remember where he’d gone, what he’d seen or what time of day it’d been.

He’s lucky to have grown up in the centre of King’s Landing, knowing every street by heart, intuition leading his steps as he eventually finds his way back home. To an empty flat, haunted only by the memory of her.

She haunts him worst internally though, through his own mind.

There, in the eye of his mind, he sees his greatest fear; her with another man.

Any time he closes his eyes, the same image greets him; her, naked in the arms of another, throwing her head back in bliss.

She sighs and moans, letting her new man know how good he’s making her feel. She tells him too; that he’s the best she’s ever had.

She runs her hand down his cheek, unmarred and smooth. No harshly red scar, no unpleasant raised skin. Someone pretty, like her.

‘I haven’t felt this way I feel’

‘Since many a years ago’

He tried drinking; Aegon’s lobotomy of choice.

After downing two bottles of the Dornish red he’d received from some business associate when he was still working with his grandfather, he found sleep for 1 hour and 12 minutes before waking up with a racing heart and body covered in a slick sheet of cold sweat.

He would have tried talking to someone, if the only person he wanted to speak to hadn’t blocked his number. He’d realised that after being connected directly to voicemail each time he called her. That didn’t stop him from leaving messages though. First, they were filled with apologies and promises of never losing his cool again, of being better for her, of reassurance that he loves her. But as he grew to understand that she wouldn’t come back, his frustrations got the best of him.

He called her just to scream at her, into the nothingness that was her disconnected voicemail.

“I always knew you’d leave me! You fucking liar”, he spat as he threw his phone against the same wall he’d smashed the plate against.

It doesn’t matter. She’ll never hear them anyway.

The tiny bit of relief he felt afterwards hadn’t made any significant difference. He still couldn’t sleep, couldn’t find even a moment of tranquillity.

He places the cigarette between his teeth as he reaches forward to grab the notebook on the patio table next to his seat.

There’s one thing he still hasn’t tried.

As he plucks the pencil from where it's hanging on the side of the hardcover, he begins writing without thinking too much of what’s coming out, letting his hand guide his thoughts as he brings his plagued mind down on the paper.

‘In those years and the lifetimes past’

‘I did not deal with you, I know’

‘Though the love has always been’

His most recent attempt at finding respite from his mind was sleeping in his bed.

Our bed, he corrects himself with a wince.

He’d met Alys Rivers, manager at Riverland Creative Agency, earlier that day when he stopped for a drink during his quotidian nightly walk. She recognised him instantly, swiftly approaching him to mask her true intentions with some saccharine small talk. He knew she wanted to inquire about his band’s management; if they were satisfied with Tyland or if they’d be persuaded into joining her instead.

But all he could focus on was her hand casually placed on his shoulder as she spoke, her large, green eyes locking with his as she playfully teased him about his stoicism.

The heat radiating from her palm alone lit a fire inside of him, but rather than lust, he felt something akin to longing.

Yearning.

For warmth.

He asked her if she’d like to have a drink at his house, and when she replied with a wink and a cheeky retort, he knew she’d give him what he craved.

‘So I search to find an answer there’

‘So I can truly win’

Alys didn’t feel like her. Didn’t set the fire within him ablaze. Nor did she extinguish it. He didn’t feel better; he felt the same.

Restless.

Uneasy.

Different.

Broken.

‘Every hour of fear I spend’

‘My body tries to cry’

‘Living through each empty night’

‘A deadly call inside’

His hand moves on its own accord, words pouring out from him without having a chance to pass through his consciousness.

‘So I try to say goodbye, my friend’

‘I’d like to leave you with something warm’

Maybe he never gave her comfort?

Maybe all he did was take?

No. He knows he’s been a dutiful husband. He’s always been by her side, supporting her no matter what.

Unlike his own father; a shitty husband who was more of a burden on his mother’s shoulders than a pillar to lean on. Aemond knows that he’s nothing like his father. He gave his marriage his all; he never neglected his wife.

He gave her all of him.

‘But never have I been a blue calm sea’

‘I’ve always been a storm’

But she didn’t want his love. She didn’t appreciate all he’d done for her. She didn’t understand him, not really. If she did, she wouldn’t shut him out like this.

Fuck her selfishness.

When he left his grandfather's firm to pursue music full-time, Otto Hightower had threatened to disown him, telling him that he’d make sure all ties Aemond had to the Hightower name would be cut off.

All he knew was how to be a good son and grandson. How to please his grandfather and mother. But when he confided in her about his predicament, asking her for advice on how to handle his grandfather's wrath, she’d cupped his cheeks and gazed into his eyes as she reassured,

“I am your family now, Aemond. We’ll always have each other”

Liar.

He feels bile rise in the back of his throat as he keeps writing, allowing the feelings he didn’t know how to express some outlet. The thought of her now makes him feel sick.

‘Always been a storm’

‘We were frail’

He feels stupid; blinded by the light of her love.

‘She said, “Every night he will break your heart”’

‘I should have known from the first, I’d be the broken hearted’

Being given such warmth from another person. That’s what made him addicted to her.

He’d never experienced that before, not even from his mother or sister. There was always this restraint; this rift between them, for as long as he could remember.

But she let him in with open arms; let him into her comfort without resistance.

And now she’d taken that away from him.

‘I loved you from the start’

Looking at the lyrics written down in front of him, he doesn’t feel better. His shoulders don’t feel lighter. His chest doesn’t feel less tight. All he knows is that she did this. She promised to be by his side forever and broke that vow.

He leans back in the chair, fiddling with his lighter in one hand as he reads over the text again. What would she say if she saw how much she hurt him?

Would she come back?

The fleeting thought makes a tight knot form in his throat and he swallows forcefully to make it go away.

She’ll never come back.

He picks up the paper, letting the fire from the lighter in his other hand grace over the bottom corner, and sets it alight.

A/N: No, this is not a song form Rumours 🤭 but technically he doesn’t record it, so I think it’s fair! Tysm for reading 🩵

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen x you #modern aemond #aemond x reader #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction

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sanjisluvbot · 6 months ago

Text

As Above So Below

Masterlist

Kure Rain X Black fem reader [ All are welcome but I always write with black y/n ]

Synopsis: You had your entire life just beginning, fresh into college, and as a treat, you were going on a trip across the world where you find out what your father truly does for work and why you were able to move into a nice new home. A normal young girl thrust into a world where she needed to relearn everything she ever knew and escape the clutches of an assassin clan who wanted her as a wife.

Warnings: specific warnings will be in each chapter

There had never really been too much talk about what your father did for work, where he went to once a year for five days, and that was simply what it was. All you were told when you asked was that he liked fighting tournaments and his job required him to travel—this year had finally been different for multiple reasons.

Your father got a promotion that had you move out of your two-bedroom apartment that you called home your entire life and the whole family would be coming with him on his yearly endeavors.

It was your first year of college and spring break was the time when your father would go on his trip. The news was brought to you one afternoon in February and from then on you had spent time planning outfits and hoping that the weather would be warm enough for a short dress.

The day had finally neared and you left your morning class giddily, having multiple appointments to doll yourself up and having your father pay for it was a true treat.

After running your errands you went home hoping to double check your bags again before dinner. Opening the door your father called out for you from the kitchen. He explained the trip's basic ins and outs, including the tournament.

“Are there going to be any well-known fighters at the tournament? Like from wrestling or something?” you questioned.

“ Well, I do believe this year there might be a famous wrestler but I don’t think he is on your radar, I also wanted to mention why I go on these yearly trips in the first place,” he explained.

You sat on a chair paying full attention as he went through the betting system, he explained his boss sends him to his place to either represent his company if they had their fighter or simply just to place his bets. The tournament was five days long and companies worldwide including many world elites attended placing billions of dollars in this secret tournament, With the information overload your eyes widened from shock.

The Kengan association was not only a secret fighting ring for elites which initially shocked you but, the amount of money that goes into these tournaments had your jaw hanging to the ground. The excitement had steadily built up the rest of the night even through dinner. As you were getting ready for bed a crashing sound went through the house.

“ Have you lost your mind !” You froze in fear hearing your mother scream through the house. Quietly, you tiptoed towards your door placing your ear to hear the conversation happening across the hall. There was a constant back and forth, your mother’s anger and your father raising his voice now and then which usually meant not only was he wrong for whatever he did but—- he was trying to rationalize his misdeeds.

Your face scrunched up hoping to hear more than just bits and pieces and you finally creaked open your door. You heard the exasperated sighs of your mother, “ How could you even wager something like this, to sign your name on those papers knowing there is a fifty percent chance you will lose it all… and for what?”

“ I didn’t have much of a choice, you don’t understand! If I didn’t sign something could’ve happened to myself or one of you. I needed to take that chance.” My father said solemnly.

Your head was now sticking out of your door as your curiosity grew. Hours before the first family trip in years they were fighting and it seemed to be serious, analyzing the conversation you could understand just how idiotic your father had been. He signed his life away with whatever contract and decided to come clean. You wanted to dare yourself to get a little bit closer as their voices returned to regular volume but the possibility of getting caught in their crossfire limited you.

“ Are you going to tell y/n? Or are you going to let her know only if you lose? Truth is you don’t have the option because if you don’t do it I most certainly will.”

Your father sighed and you heard him begin whispering, gnawing at your lip didn’t cease, and the excitement of being sneaky was trying to overpower your senses. Releasing your lip you carefully inched out of your room praying to all above that your creaky door wouldn’t be so creaky today. Just as you were about halfway out your door whined, slowly and loudly.

Thinking fast you ran to your dresser grabbed your cup and continued out the door, your mother soon appeared out of her room. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone hoping she thinks your demeanor is natural and head downstairs. You groaned internally as she followed knowing she was going to question whether or not you heard the conversation. You continued your act as you got your drink and she finally spoke up, “ I know you heard me and your father, I need to tell you the full situation.” You groaned internally and turned around leaning on the edge of the sink.

“ I wasn’t really eavesdropping you guys are just way too loud…”

She laughed softly and made her way to the cabinet grabbing a wine glass. You watched her like a hawk, she was going to tell you something that could possibly give you a panic attack and this laid-back attitude was already sending alarms to your brain. “ I’ll cut to the chase… Your father decided to sign a contract binding the entire family on whether or not his boss wins or loses,” She said popping her bottle of wine. As the shock began to spread across my features she poured her class silently before making eye contact.

“ If the fighter we represent loses we will lose everything, no college, no home, nowhere to run and his boss knows that. My theory is that your father’s boss wants to ensure that the losses don’t only affect him and use us as his shield.”

I couldn’t think clearly, her voice fading out as the reality of my situation began settling in. How could someone who claims that his family is everything— the family who he worked so hard to move them up in life— how could he forfeit our freedom so easily? My vision focused back onto her as she moved towards the island sitting on one of the stools, I quickly moved towards siting beside her.

“ I heard the last few bits of your conversation earlier, he said he didn’t have a choice but it was his choice to start this gamble in the first place,” you said irritably.

She sighed and shrugged her shoulder in agreement before continuing, “ Honestly I should’ve known your father was in too deep when we moved into this house only a month after his promotion.” As she spoke my mind felt like it had become clear as if the rose-tinted glasses were taken off. You had always held my father in high regard alongside my mother, they kept you happy and you’ve lived a decent life and never truly had to ask for a thing.

However, this recent promotion after twelve years made no sense when you look objectively. Being sent away to the same place every year for five years, never truly knowing what your father did for work other than ‘ he is a businessman, you and your mother were purposefully kept out of the truth to ensnare your father in a devious relationship.

“ I think he owes us the truth, what is really going to happen if we lose the fight? What has he been doing for work and why he got this big promotion.” You declare. She nodded in agreement and continued sipping her wine. There was a comfortable silence between you now as you had no choice but to make peace with the fact that your father was a liar who signed away your entire family’s freedom.

You both sat there for a while and made small talk about what went on during the day, how you both went out to prepare for the trip, and what you were excited to see. Anything to distract each other from a terrible reality. Sometime thereafter you heard your father softly make his way down the stairs, you looked over to your mother and saw the anger that seethed beneath her soft features, it festered hotter as he grew close.

When he appeared no one said a word. The sadness in his eyes was clear as day and you could almost hear his thoughts racing, wondering what exactly he was going to say to his wife and daughter that could justify his carelessness.

“ Before I say anything else— I want to apologize for putting the two of you through this.”

He sat the opposite of us and you had to keep your eyes away from him, not ready to see such distraught emotions your father had never once showed me in all my years. He cleared his throat and proceeded, “ My boss… he is a very powerful man and unfortunately, I am just being shown his true colors. After working so many years I never thought he would make me sign such a contract, I had signed multiple NDAs for the tournament this time of year I didn’t really put much thought.” He further explains how his boss spent years crafting him into the perfect vessel, the one he would sacrifice if everything went to shit.

Your father went in depth about the manipulation he faced, his boss convinced him their relationship was tight nit and he trusted my father with these tournaments because he always got the job done without ever messing up.

The night continued and the horrible truth unraveled. The contempt for your father was on a rollercoaster, you couldn’t truly decide if you felt sorry for this poor bastard or if you wanted to scream at him till your vocal chords were raw. You settled with keeping quiet as your mother vocalized her anger for his selfishness and reckless behavior. Deep into the night, you all returned to your rooms as the flight would be at nine sharp. Laying down you laugh to yourself, a trip that was supposed to be fun and filled with new adventures was replaced with a trip that would determine the rest of your life.

The morning came fast and you were out the door before you knew it, the brisk air of the morning was waking you up faster than you would like. The drive had been quiet, with no singing and laughing everyone just running scenarios of the worst outcomes through their minds. The airport was emptier than usual and after checking in you were greeted by a group of men dressed like men in black.

You looked towards your father as they handed him a letter, he quickly opened it to view its contents and then nervously smiled at the men before him. Looking over to me and my mother he explained that these men would be escorting us during our entire trip and we would be riding privately. On a regular day, most people being told they not only had an escort but were riding privately to their destination would be a dream come true but we all could see between the lines. This was to keep us in check and to make sure we knew, there was nowhere to run.

The plane was luxurious, the seats more comfortable than your own bed and the people doting on you made you almost forget the sinister undertone. Mimosas, full meals, everything you could ask for was just handed to you, who wouldn’t feel like an elite? The flight went smoothly but the guards were stationed all throughout the plane and even though their glasses were tinted you could feel the eyes watching your family’s every move.

Fourteen hours seemed to go quickly when you had no choice but to sleep or have a starring contest with a group of guards. Once you landed you were escorted in a car bringing you to your first destination. One of the guards told us we would be brought to a hotel to get ready for the night, our luggage would be boarded onto the yacht that was going to bring us to the island.

Arriving at our destination you could tell you were by the docks, the hotel was small and truly fit for a one-day stay. The room you were provided had two twin beds and a window that showcased a wonderful view of all the boats. A smile made its way to your face seeing such a sight and you decided to relax a while before you would get ready. The guards left us to ourselves for a while and you could feel the tension in your shoulders dissipate. Your father clarified that the guards were only heading out to get the clothing we were going to wear on the boat.

A few hours passed and the sun soon began its descent, a swift knock came to the door and your mother opened it allowing the guards to enter with bags and boxes full of clothes you couldn’t even name. You were provided formal wear and then told your family needed to be ready to leave before the sun went fully down. The next hour was spent with everyone showering and rushing past one another in and out of the bathroom. Although the situation was far from perfect you had relaxed into it letting excitement run through your veins for the first time in seventy-two hours.

The dress fitted perfectly along with your shoes, you bit your lip thinking about the fact that your sizes were known to these people and knew that was only the bare minimum of information they had on you and your family. Half an hour later when the moon was shining brightly into the room there was another knock signaling it was time to go. You kept your head down when leaving the hotel wanting to bite back the urge to burst into tears. These next five days would determine everything but you refused to show such vulnerability to evil people who would surely laugh in your face.

The boat was magnificent, you were quickly escorted into a ballroom where already hundreds of people filled in. The guard urged your father to mingle stating the boss wanted to make new connections and maintain current relations with overseas companies. You held onto your clutch ferociously as you smiled into the crowd, your father making his rounds introducing you to people you’ve read nasty articles about. The entire situation was so surreal it all felt like such a fever dream until your father ran into an old man with onyx-colored eyes.

Chills ran down your spine as you discretely looked at the people surrounding this man, they all had black eyes and a menacing aura surrounded them. The old man smiled shaking hands with your father and you could’ve sworn you seen your father gulp.

“ It is nice to see you once again Mr. L/n, and you’ve finally brought your family I see.” The man commented.

“ It’s a pleasure to see you and the rest of your clan once more Mr. Erioh,”

“ Your boss and I spoke earlier, I am so glad you decided to sign the contract, we both knew you would eventually crack,” The man laughed sinisterly. You bit your lip as you looked at the people surrounding the man, they were surveying your family thoroughly making you want to run and hide where they couldn’t find you. You looked amongst the group and made eye contact with a man with spikey blonde hair.

He zeroed in on you and a smirk etched its way onto his face. He could tell just how much you didn’t want to be there and you could tell just how much that excited him. You broke eye contact and returned your sight to the floor hoping this interaction would end quickly. From your peripheral, you see the man lean towards the old man and whisper something into his ear and your worst fears come to fruition.

The man cleared and then motioned toward my mother and me before speaking, “ This is your wife and daughter correct?” It felt like the alarm for the purge was sounding off as the spotlight was brought to you. You lifted your head to see everyone with black eyes staring at you and your mother like you were meat.

“ Yes this is my daughter y/n and my wife // “

Your mother spoke up first, introducing herself, and then clasped your hand tightly in hers silently nudging you to speak up. You robotically introduced yourself and noticed the blonde man fully breaking out into a smile and chuckling to himself while you spoke.

“ And how lovely they both are— Tell me if I’m correct, you daughter, she is in college?”

“ Yes she is attending one of the top schools, it is her first year,”

The old man smiled towards you congratulating you on your accomplishments. You thanked him and begged silently for the attention to go toward something else not liking the amount of eyes ( especially the beadily little eyes that were drilling into you from the blonde ) that focused on every ounce of your being.

“ I hear she has played many sports including boxing, taekwondo, and basketball to name a few,”

Your father nervously laughed and nodded his head, “ Yes she has always been a very active girl and we made sure she had her outlets,”

The man hummed before snapping his fingers, the blonde quickly leaned towards him and the man spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, “ Raian I believe you have a lot in common with young y/n please accompany her for the rest of their trip. I think it would be great if the two of you got to know one another a little bit,”

Your eyes widened and you looked over to your mother in fear. You wanted absolutely nothing to do with this man and the people surrounding him, your stomach turned in knots and your mother squeezed your hand once again before releasing it. You let out a huff in disbelief, she turned away from you and moved closer to your father as a sign for you to go with him.

Your brain short circuited when the man stood tall in front of you smiling down at you insidiously. He placed his hand on the small of your back turning you towards the rest of the party, he quickly ushered you to walk without a word and you panicked pushing his arm off of you and turning towards your parents for an explanation.

“ Y/n let Raian escort you for the rest of the night, your father has much to talk about with Mr. Erioh,” Your mother said pleadingly.

You softly nodded and turned around, if your mother was begging you to just go with it you knew these people weren’t ones you wanted to piss off. Still, this nagging feeling in the back of your throat wouldn’t go away, there was something more to this— this entire fiasco wasn’t as simple as your father explained and your mother was trying her best to keep it together as well.

You followed the man out of the ballroom silently hearing your heartbeat pounding throughout your eardrums like a symphony of death. The voices began to fade as the man directed you down many halls, there were fewer people as you continued your journey and you were opening your mouth every once and again thinking of what to say first. Finally, as he directed you onto the deck and into fresh air you stopped in your tracks and stared into his blue irises.

“ Do you mind explaining what exactly is going on here?”

🪼: if you’d like to be tagged for this series please give me a thumbs up below ! And lmk your feed back

A/N: Ik you’re probably like… didn’t you say you were gonna post ch 2 of Isekai Yandere op. Yes!!! And I will however, I’m in a bit of a rut because of school and honestly the pressure of living up to thw first part lol. A lot of you really liked it and more people began writing for it so I don’t want this continuation to be underwhelming. I’m going to make a separate post abt everything but I hope you enjoy this like I did! Mwuah 🫶🏽

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse #kengan oc #baki vs kengan #kure raian #raian kure #raian x reader #raian kure x reader #Kure raian x reader #x black fem reader #ohma tokita #kure clan #arranged marriage #yandere imagines

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tiredsmashbros · 4 months ago

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and so we are gathered here today, to hear TSB's horrible 1k sobbing {LONG}

well guys, it's been officially a week later since the end of the "birthday party" event. crazy it already flew by fast but formerly something i really wanted to say from the very start: thank you.

quite frankly i know i could've just made a simple thank you text as a normal person does, but i wanted to really to show my gratitude by giving something nice. and that something nice was the discord server until... my chaotic brain decided to make a daily week event inspired by scott cawthon UIGHJDSXUKGJH but otherwise- i hope everyone enjoyed tuning in everyday and i've personally been having a blast talking and hanging out with everyone since.

now, i got my secret final card up my sleeve that i've been wanting to do. was to give back something to some specific folks. amazing folks. folks that one: were my introduction to this amazing smg4 community, and two: friends i've made that has genuinely changed my life for the better, and three: been the greatest support i could've ever asked. it's still insane to me that i knew my life would be changed the moment i clicked on a youtube video of someone yapping about a specific blue and purple character from a gmod meme show and if they would work canonical. following up with me just 3 hrs later my first fanart doodle for myself. with just recently that moment being so happy i reached 100 followers on here... if you would've told me four months later that it'll exceedingly grow 10x i would laugh at you and walked away... you guys are insane in the best way possible it has scared me to death, but never have i done better improving my skills and mental health.

and with that, i give to thy, my absolute wholeheartedly appreciation:

@theartistisme43 you were the, if not one of, my first exposure to the community on twitter when i was looking for fanart on day one. i remember vividly being so captivated by your smg4 au by implementing sign language to your smg4 rigs. especially cause despite i've been meaning to relearn sign language for years, it has a special place in my heart for personal reasons. i remember being so obsessed with your animations replaying it again and again and adoring your art style so much. i've been {and still am} really shy expressing my feelings but seriously man i genuinely love your work so, so, SO much. it's still insane to me how you get the unfortunate rope under your feet by some nasty ass fools on twitter, but ong, they're just so jealous our your gmod rigging talent and storytelling. seriously man keep going!! always excited to see what you cooking up next! 💛

@ominus-potato + @bluestrawberrybunny adding you both together because ong it will feel weird to me if i didn't. of course, i am a fanfic addict once i get into a new fixation... and you two have been feeding me graciously. ominus, i love and get inspired by your fics SO MUCH it's insane to me how i'm alive after reading a new piece you've made /pos. you were also my introduction to marware and i've stayed since even if it was started of as a joke UIGHJV. strawberry i remember discovering you on artfight but exploded when i found out you were the creator of the apprenticeship au fic. i was shy to read it but i've been wanting to give you something before artfight started i finally caved in to the lore and my only regret is not getting into it sooner. i love both of ya'lls writing styles so much it's inspired me to genuinely get back into writing fanfics. thank you both so much and please continue writting!!!! i get so excited every now and again going to bed reading them. 💛🌈

@aquaproductions and speaking about artfight... yoU! i remember discovering you actually from trap sanchez's smg4 map BECAUSE THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I WAS PAUSING TO SEE EVERY PEICE TO THEN EXPLODE WHEN YOU SHOWED THEM AT THE END HIUGJHFEDS i LOVE you style so much and god when i got the message from you on artfight i actually fucking screamed. even getting that attacked for you has never once failed to make me smile. i've overcome it by now,, but i genuinely was really shy because you are just so cool and i'm still going crazy the fact your a fan of the boys LIKE BROOOOOOOOOO IUGHJDSXYUJ. ahem- anyways... kEEP BEING SLAY AQUA!!!!! 💛💕💛

@coralalala64 + @cookiepopcat ah yes another duo bc im trying to shorten this but cause you both played a similar role for me. you two, i kid you not, are the first folks i followed while joining the smg4 community. i am in love with your traditional work sm corala i am just obsessed with comics and seeing someone was making 34 comics just made me jump in glee. additionally i love the c r e a t u r e gag sO MUCH T&*YGUIHJK. cookie in general i adore your artstyle so much and especially how you add those little sparks on the hair GUHH ITS SO CUTEEEE!!! i became more of a bigger fan from your shark au and now a fan of ur new au with 3! so excited to see what you guys got cooking up next!!! 🌿💛

@zurkton i know we don't get the opportunity to talk much more but i seriously wanted to feature you in as my appreciation from the insane support you've been giving me. seeing your comments make me smile in glee and even a bonus seeing something new you make. i adore your gmod style of these silly mario recolors BUT SRSLY MAN UR OWN STYLE IS SO GOOD AND SEEING U MADE AN OC FINALLY GUH ITS BEEN IN MY TO DO LIST FOR SOOOOOOO LONG. JUST GUH I LOVE UR WORK SO MUCH PLEASE CONTINUE BEING AWESOME AND I HOPE WE CAN GET MORE TIME TO BE ABLE TO YAP MORE!!! /GEN 💛🍳

@clownypillar oh yeah. you bet your buggy ass i added you on here. cause bRO i was surprised to find someone else who loves bugs it made my little me so happy. and i still have not gotten over that smg4 cult of the lamb au you made since, i love that game sm seeing that on my feed just made me immediately become a fan. doesn't help the fact blue/silas says really amazing and silly things about you in our talks i was so shy finding the right opportunity to try and talk to you qnq,, and when the opportunity did come up {bot issue} I GOT EVEN MORE NERVOUS IHKJFEGDSXUGJH /POS i love your humor sm man you are so fun and i apologize silas has gotten you under the theory trap sigh... but other than that i need to get back into my retired bug fixation and find more ways to make fun of you as we yap and appreciate dr pepper 💛🌈🥤🐛

@libbytwq i still remember the day i got that tsb piece from you on artfight and literally screaming and running around my room in glee seeing my silly man in a silly looney pose. seriously man, ever since i saw that i immediately became a fan of you. i just am a sucker for your style man /srs. hECK i remember struggling so hard to pICK someone to fight back bc i genuinely loved all your ocs and wanted to do everyone- i also find it sO funny and ig coincidental theres so many like coincidences with you??? ong i need to say this or im going to continue going crazy- like ong libby {oc} reminds me one of my trusted friends oc and brings me back to my 2016 nostalgia days, i actually have an oc name lore who has a similar hair style as smgl:e, AND THE FACT WITH OUR SMG4 OCS LORE SIMILARITIES LIKE BRO WE LIVE IN A MATRIX OR SOME SHIT THIS MAKES MY BRAIN EXPLODE AAAAAIOYUIGHJEFDSXZ /J but in all seriousness bro, i love talking with you and seeing your silly work so much. i know you're gonna be makin awesome things bro and you bETTER WIN THOSE MARCHING BAND COMPETITIONS IUGJHEDS 👑🍔🌈💛

@its-a-me-mango mango mango mango... YOU BRITISH FREAK- anyways. you seriously were one of my favorite artist when i joined and ngl i was absolutely terrified talking to you to the point i legit thought you hated me at some point IOKJEHFDWS heCk getting that attack from you on artfight blew my fucking mind bc i was screaming over the tari duck since af was the only place i dropped the tari love interest and i didnt realized it until i looked at your page that you were THE MANGO... bro i actually fucking exploded you have no fucking idea how happy i was 🌈. like you are one srsly one of my favorite inspirations man i love your artwork, your humor, and just everything man. i'm still going internally insane that im talking to you sm bro and the memes we mAKE BRO IM UYIGJHFDWSXZYUITJG THANK YOU FOR BEING SUCH A SILLY MANGO HORSE DOCTOR DUDE, YOU ARE SO COOL, INCREDIBLE, AND MAN WHERE IS THAT SNOWTRAPPED 1K YOU PROMISED /J i could go on a bit more but im literally exploding just writing this rn so now imma just lalalalalalalala 🍔💛🌈🥭🐴

@josiekatxd / josiekatxd jo. you are one insane creature /pos. LIKE DAMN MAN YOU DRAW SO FAST IT WAS WILD GETTING ALL THE AMAZING TSB GIFTS AND GETTING TO KNOW MORE OF UR OC 7 JUST BECAME A MORE JOYOUS RIDE!!!! i love your work so much man and the amount of support i've gotten from you makes me so so SOOSOSOSOS HAPPY ITS OVERWHELMING /POS. i enjoy talking with you man {even if i may be slow at timess..} pLEASE dont be afraid to send me smth, more yummy art or MEMEMSSSSS i appreciate anything and everything!!! this was honestly such a joy getting to draw 7 again she's been stuck in my head for so long hELPPP /SILLY 🌿⭐️💛

@rr3d2y AKO!!!!! YOU!!!!!!! YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY MAN EVER SINCE THAT ATTACK YOU MADE FOR ME FROM ARTFIGHT I HAVE BEEN A DIEHARD FAN SINCE. I WENT ABSOLUTELY INSANE OVER IT SO MUCH I HAD TO SHARE IT WITH MY IRL FRIENDS IT MADE ME SO HAPPY. EVEN MORE HOW YOU ACTUALLY IMPLEMENT MY INTERESTS EVERY TIME YOU ATTACKED??? LIKE HELLOOOO??????? AND DAWKO??????? AND JUST UR OC IN GENERAL I LOVE HER SO MUCH BROOOO IUYGJHEFWDCSXZUYHKJ EDWSHJDCS LIKE DUDE I HAD NO IDEA HOW MUCH I COULD WRITE A FULLBLOWN ESSAY UNTIL YOU BARGED IN WITH YUMMY ART EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. YOU SPOIL ME SO MUCH AKO YOU ARE INSANELY INCREDIBLE AND SUCH A JOY TO TALK TO AND BE SILLY WITH. IT MADE ME SO HAPPY TO FIND SOMEONE WHO SHARES MY INTERESTS FROM THE START AND I STILL GO CRAZY EVERY TIME ANY OF IT IS MENTIONED. WHETER ITS SMG4, DAWKO, CG5, FAIRYOFFPARENTS, SONIC, WOLVERINE UYIGJHEFDSCXUIGJH IT ALL MAKES ME JUMP UP AND DOWN KICKING MY FEET MAN. I MEAN IT WHEN I SAY IM A BIG FAN AKO. I APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE 1 MILLION PERCENT AND ADORE YOUR SUPPORT SO MUCH. THANK YOU AKO THE GREAT!!!! LIFETIME SUPPLY OF CHOCOLATE MILK FOR YOU!!!!!!! 🍫🥛💛🌈🍔💕

@radiantrevolt i know your not in the smg4 community whatsoever let alone know anything but i srsly meant it that receiving your support was such a big deal to me man. i never expected you to join the server but it genuinely made me feel more secure knowing i got you right my side just like old times. your support means the world to me man even if i suck as explaining or expressing that. you genuinely mean a lot to me man and the fact your still sticking around if still mind boggling to me evermore. thank you ander for staying by my side and willing to do so even at a space your unfamiliar with. being able to talk to you again has been such a joyride 💛💛💛💛🌈🐈‍⬛

and lastly...

these two freaks...

@strange0-0storm + @bluesbox... honestly... i owe you two a lot. genuinely. storm i remember you specifically when i first started acknowledging the smg4 community bc of how recognizable smg8 was on tumblr and immediately finding you to be so cool. so cool in fact, I WAS TOO SHY TO INTERACT TYIGHJFEDS. i LOVE smg8 so much and getting to see your other ocs such as jessee, cold cash, spamton... 8YIUGFEDSU J ITS JUST SO COOL AND HOLY FUCK MAN I LOVE YOUR ART SO FUCKING MUCH. I AM STILL FUCKING OBSESSED WITH THE TSB PIECE FROM ARTFIGHT MAN VDCXZUYJHGF ITS JUST SO PERFECT I CAN GO FUKING GO OFF AGAIN IHUGFJEDS but in all seriousness man, thank you so much for having the courage to respond to my lipbite comic, to me having the courage to follow you back and interact with you more, to giving me the courage again to join ur server, and the courage to say yes to watching popee with you and silas. finn you have no idea how much your silly words have an impact on me you make me so nervous in the most positive silliest way you have no idea how genuine happy i was being in that call for the very first time. even tho i know how quiet and anxious i was from the start, it was cause i was so shy and nervous bc man it was you! YOU!!!! you're such a fucking awesome guy finn i want you to seriously never forget that!!!! silas, thank you for even talking to me. hell, even after finn left to sleep we stayed and yapped for few more hours. i was never expecting that outcome ever in my life due to past experiences, and im so glad to the earth and back that it did come out as it did. i love talking to you man, i love seeing your work so much, and adore and appreciate to the fullest all the gifts you made me. thank you even more for getting me into the great gatsby and returning my hidden sherlock fixation back to light. i appreciate it way more that i can ever express it man. whether it may us talking about our day, silly nonsense, or me bullying you /j, it makes me so happy. and so grateful i can call you and finn my friends. you guys seriously helped me get out of my darkest angst shell i've had caged inside myself for the past, i didnt think i would ever escape from let alone actually be able to heal from. i didn't think i could ever be the happy ever again. like guys, i look forward to every week getting to get on a call with you guys so much its honestly my favorite activity/event of the week. i know im just silly guy i don't ever show my sappy self ever to ya'll but i mean it wholeheartedly ya'll helped me out so much more than you guys could ever imagine. i love you both so much i just wanna pick you two up and throw you into a canon so we could all go to disney world together and be just be silly. thank you finn, thank you silas 💛🤍💙🍔🍟🥤

i could honestly continue yapping but i was not expecting this to take longer than i was originally expecting so imma just end it here for now. i do want to thank everyone in the smg4 community for your continuous support. the amount of appreciation and love i get is still insane for me to grasp and i adore every single piece of giftart i've ever received. never did i expect to grow this big let alone meet such incredible and talented people ever in my life. i genuinely love all of you guys. thank you so much and onwards to more silliness!!! 🍔🌈 ⛅️🌿

#tsb official #tsb #smg4 #smg4 ocs #if you see any spelling errors no you dont-#this took me three hrs to write wtf is wrong with me /j

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selkies-world · 1 year ago

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Language resources

(Duolingo alternatives)

For those who no longer use or trust Duolingo, I've put together a list of resources - apps, learning methods, programmes, etc - with a list of whether or not they are free, and my personal experience with their success at teaching a language. I have also included new ones that I haven't tried yet but which I have researched; for these, I have included a rating of how much hope I have for them panning out in the future.

[I grew up bilingual & went to a multicultural school that had a student body consisting of children from refugee families who spoke little to no English. The school prioritised teaching the entire student body the minority languages, and finding a bridge language we could all learn together to fill in any gaps in communication. Due to this, I spent the last 4 years of primary school learning new languages with the rest of the student body.

We would have a school-wide lesson for 1 hour once a week - usually with a child or staff member fluent in that language leading the lesson at the front of the gym with a microphone so we could hear the correct pronunciation in time with reading the native spelling & English phonetics on the projector screen at the front of the hall. We were expected to use this language in the corridors when we spoke with teachers or staff members and when we passed by other students regardless of what their or our native languages were. As far as fluency went, we were expected to be able to recognise and say greetings and goodbyes, enquire to each others well-being, know how to ask for assistance, how to ask for medical help for various things, how to ask where the bathroom was, to give and receive directions around the entire school, as well as colours, names of things found around the school, make small talk about our activities of the day and our family, and why we were out of class - all with relative ease & mutual understanding.

We changed language after every break, so it was roughly 8 hours of lessons in each language, before we would start again with a new one.

Alongside this, the older students in the school (final 3 years, aged 9 - 11/12) would learn French 3+ hours a week for those 3 years so their writing, reading and speaking standards were acceptable for the beginning of high school. In 1 of these years, we also studied both of our native languages for the first time, for 6 weeks each.

I left traditional schooling at 11, and while I was home-schooled I taught myself Italian, Russian, and Latin from scratch, along with relearning my preferred native language, and 2 forms of sign - I used Makaton as a young child and in school as I have a form of mutism, but as a teen I realised I associated this language with the severe trauma I experienced at school, and so suffered from flashbacks and dissociative episodes when I used it. This, along with medical concerns, led to me learning BSL, and then SSE. Today, I use a combination of English, SSE and my native language in everyday settings. I have a mental block for learning French due to it being heavily associated with my trauma.

I am saying all this not for sympathy, but so that you can see firstly how much I enjoy and value learning languages, and in order to show my experience levels with learning languages. I've used, tried, and tested all of the learning methods I will be talking about in this post. I have either used or done a lot of research into the apps and programmes discussed in this post.

And yes, I have prioritised ones that teach endangered languages, indigenous languages and languages that aren't often included in language media such as Hebrew, various forms of Arabic, Navajo, Gaelic, and others. I have also included ones that teach and / or document sign languages and sign communication systems.]

Please note that the following lists are arranged in no particular order. They are not ranked best to worst or by any other X to Y ratio. They are simply ranked according to how I remembered, tested, or found each of them.

Apps

1: Fluyo.

Rating for hope / faith: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: n/a

Cost: unknown

Status: not yet publicly available

Please note that while Fluyo is not yet available, its Kickstarter page is flourishing, its app is in development, and the developer is a man of colour who has continued to devote himself to this app and its development despite rising health concerns, developing a life-changing disabling condition, and numerous set-backs. His YouTube channel is very educational, and he has also written a book on language-learning. If you would like to know more, you can learn about him here. Fluyo is set up like a computer game with multiple cute characters who are interactive rather than stationary, and I genuinely have high hopes for it once it is released.

2: Babble

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial for the first lesson, but a paid subscription is required for any further lessons

Status: available to download

3: Language Drops

Personal experience: ☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free for some lessons, but a paid account is required for access to all lessons

Status: available to download

4: Fluent forever

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free access to basic lessons to build your confidence with the language, but a paid subscription is required for unlimited access

Status: available to download

5: Lingopie

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial for 7 days, but a paid subscription is required after that for continued use of the app

Status: available to download

6: Fluenday

Hope for: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

7: Language flower

Hope for: ☆

Languages available: ☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆

Cost: free, as far as I can tell

Status: available to download

8: Sign BSL / Daniel Mitchell

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

Please note that Daniel Mitchel offers a BSL version of this, along with an ASL version.

9: Bright BSL / sign lab

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness:☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for some lessons + premium for all other lessons

Status: available to download

Please note that Sign Lab offers this app for the following sign languages: BSL (Bright BSL), ASL (ASL Bloom), LSF (Pause LSF / Langue des Signes, yoDGS, Libras (LibrasLab), Italian Sign Language (MeLISegno), and Toleio: Norsk Tegnspråk.

10: BSL zone

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

11: Reverso context

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

This is less for learning a language, more for quick reference / fact-checking a translation.

12: Pimsleur

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free 7 day trial, but a paid subscription is required for continued use

Status: available to download

13: Memrise

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for introductory levels, with a premium option to unlock majority of lessons

Status: available to download

14: Busluu

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: Free, with a premium option to download lessons, more repetition, and extra lessons

Status: available to download

15: Hello Talk

Hope for: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

16: Rosetta Stone

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: monthly subscription is required

Status: available to download

17: Lingo Deer

Personal experience: ☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, with a premium option for all lessons beyond Basics 1

Status: available to download

18: Beelinguapp

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial, but a subscription is required for total access

Status: available to download

19: Lingvist

Personal experience: ☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆ (though it does have an option to suggest other languages for them to add, and which language you would like to learn from, and they'll email you when / if that language becomes available)

Effectiveness: unknown

Cost: free

Status: available to download

[Please note this one is not photosensitive friendly or seizure friendly. I had to close the app as soon as I opened it due to the design on their opening page, and even when I reopened it and clicked straight through, their colour scheme was still upsetting to my senses.]

20: Lingvano

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for a few lessons, but for access to all lessons, a paid subscription is required

Status: available to download

21: Duocards

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, but a more advanced version is available for premium accounts

Status: available to download

22: Chatterbug

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free with limited access, but a paid version is available

Status: available to download

23: Mango languages learning

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial, with a premium account required for further access

Status: available to download

24: EdX

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost:

Status: available to download

Please note that EdX is an app which houses courses on multiple subjects, not specifically a language-learning app.

25: Mondly Languages

Personal experience: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free, though it does repeatedly offer you a subscription account for an experience catered to you and your interests

Status: available to download

Please note this one may be triggering to those who are photosensitive or whose senses are upset by rapid moving gifs. There is a crown in the top right-hand corner which vibrates very quickly.

26: Speakly

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free trial, with a subscription account required for further use

Status: available to download

27: Pocket sign

Hope for: ☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, as far as I can tell

Status: available to download

28: Lingo legend language learning

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, though I think there may be a premium option either available but unmentioned, or in the works

Status: available to download

Please note that this app offers you the chance to vote for which languages should be added to its interface, so they can prioritise which ones to fund.

29: INC sign language app

Hope for: ☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to download

For those with religious trauma, please note that INC stands for Iglesia Ni Cristo, and the INC Sign Language App "is a project of the Christian Society for the Deaf under the Christian Family Organizations Office of the Iglesia Ni Cristo (Church Of Christ)". While it does not appear to prioritise religious content, the content does feature people dressed in suits as if for attending a church sermon.

30: My signing time

Hope for: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: 14 day free trial, and a subscription is required after this point

Status: available to download

Please note that this one is aimed at babies / toddlers & families.

32: Falou

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, with a premium option if you want to learn more than 1 language & unlock additional courses in your chosen language

Status: available to download

33: Earworms

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free for the demo, then after that, the lessons are broken into two "volumes" to buy individually, or 1 bonus-pack which contains both to buy once at a slightly reduced cost.

Status: available to download

Please note that Earworms used to be available as CD lessons, which is when I first used them. The CDs were in Volumes and were more expensive than all costs on this app. I used them 10 years ago and still remember what I learned despite not getting to use the language very often, so I can guarantee their method is very effective.

34: Qlango

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, with a premium option for the final 3 levels

Status: available to download

Please note that this one is laid out more like a semi-immersive lesson plan rather than a game. However, it is currently my favourite one.

Other resources

1: Signing hands (YouTube)

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆

Cost: free

Status: available to watch

2: Military style

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆

Cost: n/a

Status: available to begin for free, though it will be difficult for you to find an environment that allows you to experience this authentically. If you would like to learn more about what the military style is, I will speak about it further below.

3: Textbooks / Reading materials

Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆

Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆

Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆

Cost: free, or otherwise up to you (what you are willing / able to spend on it)

Status: available to start whenever you feel like it

You can find numerous language-learning resources listed at the end of this post. I also recommend buying an up-to-date dictionary and thesaurus in your chosen language, and studying it. Study the grammar noted in the front, and then actually read the dictionary. It will seem strange, but it will benefit you in the long-run. Make notes as you go, highlight and colour some things in as you see fit.

Learning methods

1: Immersion

Over and over again, we are told that immersion is the best, most effective way to learn a language. This is because this is how we often think children learn languages - and we're partly right about that.

Immersion is the process of immersing yourself in the chosen language, with one single choice: learn the language, or suffer.

If our brains have to choose between struggling to pronounce a few words while gesturing to something we want and clinging onto sounds we hear like trying to hold onto a wet otter, or not getting what we want, we're going to choose to sound & look like an idiot, pointing and saying basic sounds, even if trying to remember the reply is like trying to remember Pi.

With enough time, though, we pick the language up remarkably well when we have no choice but to pick it up. This is the method which has us mimicking accents and gestures and expressions in order to best gain what we want: to express ourselves, our needs and our desires.

However, immersion is often critiqued because unless you have the means to fly to the country that speaks your desired language and live there with 0 influence from your native language for 6+ months... Well, you're not fully immersed, are you? Language apps try to give you an immersive experience, but you can always put your phone down. Depending on where you were educated, you may have had an immersive language class, where you had to learn the language or not be able to join in and so failed by default.

Good ways to mimic immersion are: finding radio channels in your chosen language and watching TV shows in your chosen language without subtitles, and listening to music in your chosen language.

2: Flashcards

Flashcards often tend to be a popular way to test your memory and retention of a particular subject. However, using them to begin learning a language can lead to a loss of motivation.

If you are creating the flashcards yourself, I would recommend creating them in 2 sets: 1 which is the traditional flashcard (your first language OR a picture on one side, and the translation on the other side), and 1 which has twice as many, with only 1 side being used. This second set should be designed like playing cards - the word or picture on one side, and a plain back.

This second set can be used when you're wanting to boost your motivation or confidence - arrange the cards face down, and begin playing the children's game of Pairs. Another option would be Snap.

When you return to using the traditional flashcards, you'll have a better foundation to build on if you've taught yourself to see these as fun, and taught your brain to associate these cards with quickfire responses - such as are brought to the surface during childrens' cards games.

3: Stickers

This is a method which seems obvious once it's pointed out, but seems confusing if you've never done it before.

Simply put, using stickers is when you create or buy stickers with the translation of everyday objects, words and phrases in your chosen language, and put them up around your house. "Door" goes on the door. "Cupboard" goes on the outside of a cupboard, "bread" goes on the inside. "Fridge" goes on the fridge door. "Milk" goes behind the milk so you see it every time you pick the milk up. "Lightswitch" goes above / under the lightswitch. Etc etc etc.

This is a memory retention technique used for multiple scenarios. Nurseries and schools may sometimes have the Makaton sign for something shown in a large diagram stuck to the walls / surfaces. Carehomes may have the names & purposes of objects stuck to the surfaces / objects in the dominant language, for the residents with memory issues or communication barriers.

While this is a good technique for quickfire memory boosts, it can be a slow way to learn a language from scraps, and is better suited for when you are semi-familiar with the written form of the language you are learning. It is also a good way to get everyone involved, as everyone in the home will be interacting with the stickers.

4: Forced conversation

This one is controversial, but can be very effective if it is approached with an open mind, clear communication and previously-agreed upon rules and lines.

The method of forced conversation is exactly what it sounds like: it is when you are engaged in a conversation in your target language, in which the person whom you are conversing with refuses to speak your original language. However, no matter how poor your language skills are, or how uncomfortable you get, they do not stop the conversation, and you do not let to leave the situation until they are satisfied you have communicated well enough, and have understood them. This will usually be "proven" by them giving you instructions, asking a specific question, or requesting you do something for them - if you follow the action through, you have understood them, if you try to give a vague answer and do not do the task, you have not understood them, and the interaction is forced to continue. Again.

This method is controversial because it is not immediately inclusive or welcoming for those who are shy, have anxiety, any form of Mutism, or who have a neurodiversiry or learning disability which impacts their communication. In formal situations, it is often these people who fall behind or get put off from learning a language if forced conversations are the only method they have the option of.

However, if there are adaptions made and accommodation previously discussed and provided, this can still be a viable method which is inclusive to all.

If the person speaking your target language is previously informed of your communication issues or complications, and are instructed in how to accommodate you (ie: Do they need to point at something, or use picture cards as prompts? Do you prefer using picture cards? Do you get distracted if they use hand gestures? Do you need fidget toys provided? Will it be easier for you if you are not forced to maintain eye contact? Will it be better for you if one or both of you are moving around rather than sitting down directly across from each other? Do the lights need to be altered in your environment to make the sensory experience less overwhelming? Do you use noise cancelling headphones? Do you focus better if there is music on in the background? Are there certain tones of voice or volume levels that need to be avoided? Does constantly changing body language stress you out? Do you have a stutter or speech impediment that may impact your pronunciation? Etc.)

Accomodaring these issues, and coming up with a signal to take a break (ie, if you have issues telling the difference between "I am angry at you personally" and "I am tired today" in vocal tones and facial expressions, will you get upset if you think the person is angry at you for not knowing their language? If so, do you need a signal to take a break so you can clearly communicate your stress, and they can give you an answer in your original language and clarify anything which is upsetting or confusing you, before continuing the conversation in your target language?) or to speak in simpler terms? Is their one subject you can talk about particularly well (a hyperfixation) which they can use in the conversation to help you engage?

All of these accommodations may seem intimidating, but if all those involved are aware of these accommodations going into the conversation, it can make the interaction much more positive and productive.

Forced conversation uses the same logic as immersion: if your brain has to choose between looking / sounding like an idiot who stumbles over words, or a very uncomfortable situation which lasts longer each time you make a mistake, your brain will choose to look like an idiot in order to achieve what it wants.

5: Repetition

Repetition is a very common method of learning a language, though it is often criticised for being ineffective.

It is when a phrase or word is said by one party, and repeated by another. If the second party does not pronounce it correctly, the first party repeats it again. This continues until the second party gets it correct. Then the pattern is repeated with another phrase / word. Once a certain number of words have been said correctly by the second party, the first party will return to the start and repeat the process again, with the second party having to say the phrases / words correctly multiple times before being able to move onto the next. The entire process continues in this loop until the second party is saying things correctly with ease.

This method is part of what makes up both immersion, flashcards and military style methods for language learning. It can also be used with textbook learning.

However, it is often critiqued because once the second party is away from the first party and left to their own devices, their confidence in their previous pronunciation will falter, and when they return to the lesson or need to use the language again, they'll be at a lower level of achievement than they were when they left. It is also very tedious, and can become boring.

6: Music

When I spoke about immersion, I briefly mentioned music. I also said that we assume children learn language via immersion. However, as adults we often overlook something else which plays a crucial role in teaching children language: music.

Children learn language, rhythm, speech patterns, and turn-of-phrase via songs, rhymes, riddles, fables, tongue-twisters, and music.

This is why it can be priceless to learn songs in your chosen language. Lullabies. Nursery rhymes. Children's songs. Pop songs that are ridiculed as being too simple or written without talent. Theme tunes from children's shows. Traditional rhymes and tongue-twisters. Most of these can be found via a long time on YouTube.

Music works in a unique way, worming its way into our minds. Our brains are hardwired to recognise and remember patterns - and music is made up of patterns. This is why we get songs stuck in our heads for no reason. Being able to use this to your advantage to learn or remember a new language can be an amazing experience.

7: Subtitles and language swap

This is a method which can be useful when you are learning more than one language, but are more familiar with one than the other.

It is where you watch / listen to a certain media in 1 language, while reading the subtitles / lyrics in another language. This way, the language you are more familiar with / fluent in will fill the gaps of understanding the less familiar one.

You can then challenge yourself by removing one language (muting the media & only reading the subtitles, or removing the subtitles and only listening to the provided audio) and seeing how well you follow along / understand.

This can also be used with your target language and your original language.

8: Writing it down

This is another form of repetitive learning which can be useful when studying / retaining for an exam, but can also be useful when you are first learning the written-to-verbal patterns of a language.

One method is longterm recall: this is where you write down short notes, words & phrases in your target language 1+ hour after engaging with your learning resources. This tests how much you retained. It is a physical show of how much you have actually learned.

Another method is short term recall & build-up: this is where you choose a single word / phrase, and write it as lines (Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are-) until your page is full. Then go back to the start and write over the top of your own writing, staying as close to your original marks as possible. Repeating this pattern multiple times until your page rips or the words become close to unreadable tricks your brain into focusing morenon your handwriting than on the language - as such, you will start to see the phrase / word as a pattern to follow, and it is then left to your subconscious mind to retain it while your conscious mind prioritises hand-eye coordination and fine motor skills.

9: Textbook

If you're more academically inclined, you may prefer a textbook method of study. This is the style used in most night classes and / or some traditional education classes.

Textbook methods have everything arranged by date and time, and learning goals are broken down & laid out according to a set calender: by x, you will have learned this amount, by y, you will have learned this amount, so on so forty until the final set date when you will be "fluent" or a certain level of reasonably fluent.

Most of the time with this method, you will be following guidelines, activities and lesson plans previously arranged in a chosen textbook, and that textbook will be your sole or primary resource.

10: Bilingual books (page by page)

Using page-by-page bilingual books can be confusing and is often overlooked in regards to adult education - however, it can be somewhat interesting to try.

On one page, the text will be written in your original language - on the opposite page, the same text will be repeated in your target language. Seeing the two side-by-side allows you to read your target language and instantly refer back to your original language if you get stuck on a word or phrase.

There is another form of bilingual books often given to children: line-by-line. These feature the image / picture, with the original text written clearly and simply, usually no more than 1 or 2 sentences per page. Directly underneath them will be the translated text written in a different font.

11: Same story / movie, different language

While this can be a fun method, it isn't always the most beneficial if you're looking for accuracy - however, it can be useful if you're wanting to test yourself.

It uses a similar logic to the subtitles & language swap method: you put on a movie you are familiar with, but you put it on in your target language with 0 subtitles. This allows you to engage with the language while using the familiar movie / story as a bridge.

12: Military Style

This is perhaps the most effective technique to use of you have a set amount of time to reach a specified level of understanding / fluency in a language. However, it is also one of the most difficult to fully replicate yourself.

Military style is a form of forced immersion combined with forced conversation and repetitive loops, but with reward and punishment techniques to make you prioritise learning the language over your own comfort zone / personal boundaries.

An example of this style would be party 1 having party 2 engage in forced conversation in front of an audience, then having them repeat a phrase they got wrong over and over until they get it right - all in front of the audience, with a rule set which forbids party 2 from sitting down or disengaging the interaction until they have finished the task. Nobody in the audience is allowed to help party 2. Party 1 continues to push party 2 outside of their comfort zone by having them continue the conversation, repeating any mistakes until they are corrected, and the conversation does not end until it is completed.

After that, party 2 has to do 100 push-ups while repeating the phrase they got wrong the most - and they have to pronounce it correctly while doing the push-ups. Any mistakes, and they go back to 1, regardless of if they were at 7 or 98.

This combined punishment of mild public humiliation and physically pushing their body beyond its limits makes the brain see learning the language as the solution to ending this treatment - as such, party 2 will be far less likely to repeat those mistakes again.

Alongside this, there is forced immersion, in the sense that nobody is allowed to speak their original language in any context or to anyone - they must use the target language or be ignored at best or ridiculed at worst.

Understandably, this method is difficult to replicate on your own or outside of the army.

However, there are some tokens which can be taken from it: notably forced repetition & physical exercise.

Set yourself a challenge using any of the previously mentioned learning methods or apps. Keep note of your mistakes.

At the end of the challenge (say 30 minutes of learning) count up all your mistakes. Now do a push-up / squat / pull-up / sit-up / etc for each mistake you made while repeating the phrase out loud. If you stall too long on making a connection in your mind or stumble over the sounds, start counting from 1 again. Repeat this until you're continuously getting the mistakes correct.

At the end, go back to your lesson and repeat it. Did you get less mistakes?

Thoughts & considerations when it comes to learning a language - for language savants and novices alike

"If you don't use it, you lose it" is probably one of the most hated phrases in terms of learning anything new - and especially in terms of learning a language. I think a better expression would be "If you don't make room for it, you won't keep it".

If you don't make time to learn a language, you won't learn it.

If you don't challenge yourself to reach a certain standard, you won't achieve any standard.

If you don't make the effort to retain the new information, you'll forget it.

When you learn a new language, you have to make room for it in your mind. You have to be willing to make mistakes and continue, knowing you're not doing it perfectly. You have to be willing to make it a priority, even if nobody else in your life sees it as one. You have to be willing to be frustrated and tired and bored. You have to be willing to get every single thing wrong and try again. You have to be willing to be uncomfortable with the new sounds you're making and you have to be willing to be patient while your brain digs out a new burrow of tunnels and connections which didn't previously exist.

If you genuinely want to learn a new language, you have to make room for it in your mind and life. Even when sometimes it's a tight fit.

Resources, as promised

Reading, writing & textbook materials:

Book 1

Book 2

Book 3

Book 4

Book 5

Structured notebook 1

Structured notebook 2

Structured notebook 3

Something worth checking out 1

Other things to invest in:

A dictionary in your target language

Picture cards

Flashcards

Stickers

Books in your target language

Children's books in your target language

Nursery rhyme books in your target language

Magazine subscriptions in your target language on a topic you find fascinating

Newspapers in your target language

Poetry in your target language

1 paid language learning app - a lot of the time, you get what you pay for. Not always, but usually.

Notebooks, stationary, etc

Headphones / earplugs

Media in your target language

#languages #langblr #language #linguistics #learning #learn languages #education #educate yourself #educate yourselves #educación #educação #free education #free resources #resources #duolingo #savant

633 notes · View notes

nyehilismwriting · 4 months ago

Note

Have you seen the recent comment made by Jelly Fish Field on your itch page for Project Hadea. I just read it, and found their view really interesting and extremely important criticism on how you've decided to write certain reactions. I love your writing a lot, so it was extremely eye opening what they wrote. What i'm getting at is, I would just like to hear your feedback on that specific comment! all love, and I do hope this won't be taken the wrong way!

I've seen it, yeah. and... okay, I've discussed my reasons for not using rape as a content warning before, and I stand by them; I'm not revisiting any discussion on what does and does not constitute rape. the content is warned for, by specifics of what occurs in the text, to give people the chance to make the most informed decision they can about whether to play. that's it.

as for the rest of it... there's things in there that I understand. I get being frustrated that you can't fully explore the extent of the operative's trauma, yet; I get feeling like the rest of the crew don't trust you, or like rohan is a bitch. they don't, and xe is.

the thing that I find disagreeable about a lot of these criticisms (and similar ones) is that I think they betray a fundamental misreading of the text: the operative is a war criminal. they are heavily armed, unstable, and trapped on a ship with civilians. they kill multiple civilians in chapter one; they might well attempt to kill rohan in front of everyone, and later succeed in doing so. they are a confirmed murderer, who by and large refuses to tell the civilians why they are so angry with rohan. this is by design.the focus of this story is very much about coming to terms with your trauma - from long before you meet rohan! you've been medically experimented on, had your personhood denied for a long time, and had any kind of human empathy stamped out of you. part of the point of the game is for me to explore how trauma can be expressed in ways that are deeply unpalatable - the operative is not a "perfect victim" (a phrase I loathe) and their trauma impacts the way they move through the world, drawing out reactions that aren't wholly sympathetic or empathetic, because their actions are often unjustified and cause real harm, or seem that way to those who don't have full context.

this is why joia is important, this is why your relationships with the crew are important. the crew aren't intended to be author voices, they're not the moral compass here or audience stand-ins: they aren't supposed to represent the "correct" approach to dealing with other people's trauma. no character in this situation is intended to be seen as perfect, but as a way to shine light on different facets of the story.

the operative is built a very specific way, for very specific reasons: this is intentional. they are a person who has been deliberately dehumanised, used as a weapon, who volunteered and fought for the right to be a scientific guinea pig for the war crimes company, in order to be of greater use to said company. they have had their bodily autonomy violated so habitually, for their whole career - they have been coercively used as a test subject by their employer - that they can't see it as an abnormal violation. this isn't to say it is justified, or to diminish the traumatic impact rohan has, but... it's not the operative's first rodeo here, even if it's the player's.

they're bad at processing their emotions. the operative Does Not Cry: this is a character choice I have made. this is because they have had that emotional response beaten out of them. the operative isn't capable of taking their own trauma seriously, because they're not equipped to deal with it. they can't look at it head-on.

likewise, nash isn't capable of being a gentle, reassuring, sympathetic person, much as they might want to; a big part of that relationship is the idea that the pair of you have to relearn to how to relate to one another in your new contexts, and that isn't a smooth process. nash also has reasons to be reticent with you that are yet to be explored - this relationship is undergoing development, with both of you as violent people who commit violent acts, and who relate through violence. your relationship is built on your capacity to commit violence together. they are not equipped to deal with violence affecting you in the way it might someone else, because you've both spent the last ten years being conditioned and trained to assault other people. part of the theme of this game is to explore the way these people might experience a uniquely traumatic violent event, and the effect this might have on their own capacity to endure and process violence again themself.

I understand that it might not be the way people want to play their characters, but it's the way the character is written, and I am doing that on purpose. all I'm asking is that you trust me when I say that this is not going to be swept under the rug, even in the least volatile relationship you can have with rohan. if that's not possible for you - if you can't trust me to do this - then you're welcome to stop playing.

#honestly i think a lot of the criticisms in that post come from wanting to play a different game.#if you don't like joia: this game is not for you #if you dislike all the characters: this game is not for you #if you believe wholeheartedly that sex under false pretences is always rape. then it is in fact warned for #i always appreciate feedback but this was so comprehensively complaining about every aspect of the game that i have to assume #that they just didn't like it #which is fine! but i'm not going to change everything about it; especially the things that are very intentional and thematic #anon #long post #sorry. got away from me

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anfie-in-the-box · 6 months ago

Text

Be Who You Are (An Error Just Like Me)

Notes

A little something for @zu-is-here (: Thanks for the request! It was a bit difficult at first, but today inspiration hit hard and I couldn't help but write, write, write. It was amazing, and I'm quite proud of the result.

。。。

For one too many times, Blueberrory stumbles on something he doesn't see and groans, frustrated, caught in Error's strings so he doesn't fall and possibly break a bone or two. Error laughs at him, glitching slightly, but helps Blueberrory regain his balance.

“Ugh. Ho-o-ow?” he mutters with barely concealed irritation. He's definitely become moodier as an error. He wonders if it would ever go away.

“You want me to teach you how to navigate the Anti-Void? That's what I'm doing,” Error says, still giggling — and glitching, just a tiny bit. Blueberrory can't help but smile fondly. Oh, to slowly but surely learn to understand Error's twisted mind… He enjoys Blueberrory's struggles very much, but he also cares, and he also wants Blueberrory to succeed. If only to prove he's the best teacher and guide in the Anti-Void. And because they're becoming friends.

“There's this one tiny little thing that I don't understand,” Error says, now frowning.

“Am I missing something?” Blueberrory asks with hope. Maybe Error is finally tired of his games of vague charades? But he stands up and spreads his hands.

“Come here and hug me.”

Hope is a stupid feeling indeed. Error hates physical contact and barely knows how to soothe the feeling — before Blueberrory he didn't even have the clothes that would suit his needs. And now he just stands there, almost demanding a hug? Blueberrory knows Error's not the most stable person around, but this…

Nonetheless, Blueberrory comes closer and… He's not sure what happens next, but stars, he's glitching like crazy. It doesn't hurt though, not at all, and then it ends as fast as it has started. And he finds himself a tiny little bit away from Error, though Blueberrory can swear he was close to him, closer than Error ever allowed.

“What… What was that?!” Blueberrory shouts, startled.

“Stupid, don't you realise that's your main advantage here in the Anti-Void?” Error makes a dissatisfied face, but there's a certain sparkle in his mismatched eye-lights. He enjoys knowing more and understanding better. And Blueberrory will be his favourite subject for a rather long time — he's a fast learner, but now that his nature and soul have changed, he has a lot of things to either learn or relearn. Like navigating his new home.

“I don't understand,” Blueberrory says after a few deep breaths. He's still frustrated but not angry or bewildered to the point of shock. “What happened? Why am I farther from you than I was before, well, trying and failing to hug you, I suppose? Why did I glitch like that?”

Silence falls. At least Blueberrory isn't irritated anymore, and Error's thoughtful face soothes his soul even more. Blueberrory really, truly misses the times patience came naturally to him. But he'll do his best anyway. And besides, that part of him is deep inside, more than a memory, less than an illusion — a part of his experience, a part of his past, long gone. Blueberrory isn't the magnificent Sans.

Error laughs loudly and Blueberrory takes a step back, startled.

“You're so funny,” Error finally says when his laughter ceases. “Wonder whether I would be as funny if I had someone to look after me.”

Blueberrory perks up. Error doesn't talk about his past, or, well, his past in the Anti-Void. He loves telling stories about the AUs he once destroyed, or the AUs that managed to attract his attention and therefore stayed. The latter ones were far and between at first, but as Error learnt to tame his insanity, he found beauty and fascination in more and more things. He found his own reasons to grant mercy, as twisted as those reasons are.

“What's funny, then?” Blueberrory asks calmly.

“That you really don't understand!” Error grins. “What happened is one of your own ways to be an error. Congratulations! Now you know what to master!”

Blueberrory sighs. Error's words still don't make any sense, though they really should. But that's fine, Blueberrory is still getting used to… everything, really. Error knows that, so Blueberrory will get his answers. Sooner or later, one way or another.

“I see you're not getting it.” This time, Error quickly goes to Blueberrory and touches his shoulder.

Well, he tries to. Blueberrory doesn't even get a moment to react. He's glitching again, and he's a few steps away from Error. Again.

“Most errors can't touch living beings, as far as I know,” Error finally starts to explain with words. “But you? Oh, how I envy you, little Berry! You can't touch anything, not in the state you're in right now.”

“But I… I stumble on… whatever it is in the Anti-Void?..” Blueberrory mumbles, then grimaces — he's meant to sound coherent and confident, not like this.

“Of course you do! That's why I said you've got to master your ways to be an error. They're advantages as much as they are obstacles.”

“So what you mean is… There's a way to cheat?”

“Sure, call it like that, why not! We are errors, but we are also hackers. The Anti-Void loves those who know the rules, but it loves those who set their own rules even more.”

“What is yours, then? Advantage and obstacle, I mean.”

Error tenses for a moment — Blueberrory doesn't even start regretting his decision to ask. Enough is enough. But Error answers slowly, “My vision. Without the glasses, I see more. Or, well, differently.”

Blueberrory hums, not letting this show of Error's trust and honesty go unnoticed but also not focusing attention on his words.

What feels like hours later (though you never know with the Anti-Void), Blueberrory still stumbles here and there, but sometimes he doesn't, glitching out of the way — and gets a standing ovation from Error, slightly mocking yet genuinely proud. What a mix.

“Be who you are — an error just like me,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Blueberrory hears it anyway. He makes a promise to himself to become the second best error ever. The first is Error himself, of course.

So much to learn, so much to see, and Blueberrory won't be alone. Lucky him.

。。。

Credits

。。。

Notes

There's a few references here and there. The title is a slightly corrected line from Hazbin Hotel song Loser, Baby.

"Hope is a stupid feeling" is a belief from a series of Russian books that I like a lot, though I don't fully agree with this particular notion. Still interesting to look for situations where it works.

Thanks for reading, and take care 🌻

P. S. Requests are still open!

#anfie writes #anfie writes one shots #blueberror #error!sans #utmv

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gorgeys · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Could you a Naomi x female reader, where her older brother works for Jordan and she meets Naomi at the party and gets a lil jealous when Jordan tries to hit on the reader? Thanks!

FRIENDS? ★ naomi lapaglia

Naomi Lapaglia (Wolf of Wall Street) x fem!reader

You quickly catch Jordan's eye at a party, but Naomi wants you all to herself...

Warnings: mentions of sex, flirting, corruption kink??, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3110

Note: ayee i'm obsessed with naomi so i loved writing this request! there's also another naomi request that will be coming out shortly and that will def be a long one! i believe in margot robbie supremacy

b/n = brother's name

You stared in awe as you approached the mansion. It was by far the largest house you had ever seen. You looked to your brother and he only smiled. It seems he was adjusting to the shift in your lives much faster than you.

He had only begun working for Jordan a couple months ago when rent was tight and there was barely any food in the fridge. You had just moved in with him to help cut costs for the both of you as you sunk deeper into student loans and edged barely closer to your degree. If things couldn’t get any worse, your brother was laid off from his job out of nowhere. He began interviews for practically every job on Wall Street when your luck changed tremendously. He landed a job at Stratton Oakmont.

He climbed the ranks quickly. You and your brother had quite a unique charisma, one that allowed you to manipulate many social situations in your favor and it was no different at Stratton. With his charm and hard-working attitude, your brother was one of the few to have a personal connection with the founders of the company and he could feel that promotion coming. But it was just out of reach. So he quickly enlisted you to give him a little push.

There was an obvious shift in your lifestyle as soon as your brother got the job. He was able to provide for the both of you plus decorate the apartment and take you out to lavish dinners. Life just seemed so much brighter for the both of you. So you would do anything to keep your lives like this. Even if it meant playing this part.

It was the first time you’d be attending one of Stratton’s famous parties. Your brother let you hang off his arm, dolled up in a completely brand new designer outfit, just how Jordan liked it. Your dress was as short as it could be without being socially unacceptable and your neckline plunged so deep that your tits were nearly popping out. Your heels were custom made and reeled in your flashy dress to make it a classy look. Your make-up was done to a tee, emphasizing the soft features of your face, and your hair was curled into perfect waves. Even your brother, who had teased you all your childhood, agreed you were a sight for sore eyes. There was no way you wouldn’t catch Jordan’s attention.

Everything seemed to fall into place as you entered. Eyes were on you from the moment you stepped inside, men in suits turning their heads to gape while their wives and girlfriends knocked them on the back of the head for looking. You smiled just as you had rehearsed in the mirror and strutted as elegantly as you could muster even if you had to relearn to walk in those tall heels.

Most of the men you passed patted your brother on the shoulder in greeting, eyeing you up in the process. Your brother had to reiterate several times that you were his sister, hoping he’d be able to avoid any risque comments about the two of you for the night.

You hid your excitement at the expensive environment, causally downing a champagne flute from a server, while you soaked up the extravagance of the house and the people.

It wasn’t long before your brother elbowed you in the side.

“Look, right over there,” he said, nodding his head to the left. “That’s Jordan.”

When you looked, he was already staring back at you. He leaned against the giant glass windows of the living room, a mystery drink in his hand. He was wearing a suit but several of the buttons of his button up were undone, exposing his chest. His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot. While he was a little sleazier than you expected, you shouldn’t have been surprised considering the insane stories your brother had told you about his addictions to sex and drugs.

He was surrounded by a group of men who you could only assume were the founding members of the company. They had noticed you from a mile away and you could faintly hear them talking about you and how badly they wanted to fuck you. One even said he’d fuck you even if you were his sister. You pretended not to notice as they shoved Jordan playfully, egging him on to approach you. For the Wolfie to handle you, as they put it.

He confidently half-smiled at you before shifting his shoulders, fixing his suit jacket. He sloppily ran his hand through his hair before he began walking toward you. He sauntered arrogantly, as if he already had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes ran all over you though he tried his best to hide it.

“B/N! Good to see you,” Jordan exclaimed, stretching his hand out to give your brother a firm handshake.

“Hi, Jordan, great party,” your brother said with a smile.

“Yeah,” he dismisses your brother, his eyes quickly turning onto you. “Now don’t be rude and introduce me to this lovely lady you’ve got here,” he said, nodding toward you, a smile stretching across his lips.

“This is my sister, Y/N.”

“Aah,” he sighs, his face lighting up with excitement. “Sister,” he repeats, grinning widely.

“I just wanted to bring her along and show her what a Stratton party’s all about.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan” you say, in a honey-sweet voice, showing your pearly whites. You can tell he’s already hypnotized as you look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes with doe eyes. You extend your hand toward him with the graceful flick of your wrist and he holds it so delicately.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. Your smile widens accordingly as he refuses to let go of your soft skin.

“You know, you’ve got a really great place here. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this big before,” you say, your eyes flicking up to the enormous glass chandelier above you that would certainly kill everyone in the room if it ever came crashing down. You ignored that thought and looked back into his star-struck eyes with an excited gaze.

“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrows, enjoying himself too much.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding along.

You wouldn’t have called him unattractive but he wasn’t really your type. Either way you’d let him have one freaky night with your body in return for a large check deposited in your brother’s bank account. You hoped he was a good lay but your instincts were telling you otherwise.

He shooed your brother away to go talk to some of the other guys while he entertained you, talking himself up and offering you several compliments. It was when he stepped closer to you that his wife noticed the two of you from across the room. She was sipping on her champagne and gossiping in a huddle of powerful wives when you caught her eye, your hand holding her husband’s for way too long.

She was no fool, she saw the way he looked at you, like he wanted to devour you. She remembered that dangerous glint in his eyes from when she had first met him at a party like this one. And we all know how that went.

She was ready to cause a scene, to impulsively confront him in the large crowd and beat him senseless with a glass bottle for even looking at another woman. But something distracted her.

She had the perfect view of you from the side as you moved your free hand across your lower back. Then your hand moved lower, lower, lower, gliding across your ass, smoothing out the fabric of your tight dress. Naomi’s eyes were fixed. Finally your fingers pulled lightly on the hem of your dress, trying to bring it down as it had rode up a little too high, showing off most of your bare thighs.

That’s when she stopped herself and decided to give you a closer look. And that’s also when she realized she was no better than her husband.

You weren’t like any of the other women Jordan flirted with. No, you were flawless. Her eyes examined your figure and noticed how every curve of your body was carved so smoothly, so perfectly that she couldn’t look away. She could only imagine the way your skin would feel beneath her fingers; she assumed it was soft and pliable. She imagined how each arch of your body would fit perfectly into her hands like you were molded just for that reason. She wanted to admire you for the rest of the night. And it felt like you were enticing her, like you were asking for her touch in that low-cut dress. It wasn’t hiding much but still, Naomi wished she could see more.

She realized that she could barely blame her husband for his reaction. Your beauty was baffling and undeniable. What could she expect from Jordan, a man who couldn’t hide his desires nearly as well as she could hide hers.

For a moment your eyes strayed away from his and you glanced in Naomi’s direction. Your hand carelessly brushed your hair back and Naomi was slightly mesmerized. She sucked her lips into her mouth, imprinting the features of your face into her mind, forgetting which reality she was in.

Her stomach churned, her body telling her brain that her need for you was innate. The way your lips curved into a pure smile and your eyes were full of light made her want to ruin you. She wanted to whisk you off to some far away place to have you only for herself. She wanted to melt away that pretty facade and see what lurked beneath your shiny surface.

It was impossible for her to restrain her own thoughts as just a single look at you brought up such deep, impure desires. She was no better than a man but you made her like that.

Her chest burns as Jordan leans impossibly closer to you, whispering something in your ear. You giggle delightfully, comfortably holding on to his shoulder. He takes that as a sign to wrap his arm around your waist, practically engulfing you with his body while his lips stay uncomfortably close to your ear.

Naomi couldn’t believe the audacity of her husband to throw himself onto you in public. No, you deserved much better than to be smothered in sweat and cologne in front of all these important people. You deserved someone who would treat you right and then, behind closed doors, someone who would treat you so wrong. She knew her husband couldn’t do any of that for you. You didn’t deserve him.

By then she had placed her glass onto a table with a little too much force and allowed her feet to carry her across the room. She straightens up the neckline of her dress and clicks her heels into the ground with a purpose. You deserved her.

“Jordan!” a thick Brooklyn accent cuts through the air.

It surprises you slightly but it seems to shock Jordan into action as he abruptly pulls away from you. You’re left awkwardly standing alone as he steps back from you. Your hands clutch onto the sides of your thighs for comfort.

“Naomi! Baby!” he exclaims, outstretching his arms to the blonde thundering toward you. He puts on a large smile and leans back comfortably as if he wasn’t just all over you.

She doesn’t accept his embrace but swats his hands away from her. She moves to stand at his side.

“You gonna introduce me to your little friend here?” she says, motioning toward you with one of her hands. Her voice is laced with an attitude that scares you. You’re not quite sure if it's venomous but it’s definitely strong. She turns to face you and plants her hands firmly on her hips.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stutters, looking nervously between the two of you. “This is Y/N. And Y/N-”

“I’m Naomi, Jordan’s wife,” she cuts him off.

You had heard stories about Naomi, about how her beauty transcended time, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting the masterpiece that stood before you. You were rendered speechless for a moment, staring stupidly at her, your lips slightly parted.

Long blonde hair trailed down her shoulders, barely covering her thick gold hoop earrings. Her face looked like it was sculpted by the gods, with a jawline sharper than a knife and pink lips that pursed curiously at you. Her tight baby blue dress with a perfect cleavage cutout matched her blue eyes lined with thick eyeliner.

You couldn’t fathom how Jordan could cheat on her. She was probably the most perfect human you had seen in your entire life. And here you were trying to seduce her husband.

Her eyes aggressively ran up and down your body, soaking up every last drop of you. They held some dark emotion behind them. Using the context of the situation you assumed it was jealousy but she knew it was lust. It was the first time that night you felt so small and so flustered, your confident facade fading away.

You hoped it wasn’t showing on your face but from the way her lips quirked upward as she extended her hand, you could tell she was enjoying your agitated state.

“Hi, Naomi,” you said, speaking a little quieter than you had with Jordan before. You accepted her hand, expecting a tense shake, but her grip was even gentler than her husband’s. In fact, her hands were the softest you had ever held.

She copied Jordan’s movements, just more delicately. She brought your hand to her lips, leaning slightly forward to give the back of your hand a chaste kiss. Her eyes didn’t leave yours the entire time, making your stomach bubble in forbidden arousal. The gesture felt so intimate, as if no one else was watching.

If you weren’t in awe before, you were hypnotized now. Her beauty was ethereal and from the way she handled you, you began to question her intentions with you. Your perception of her as the jealous wife was slowly fading into the background.

If Jordan wasn’t your type, his wife surely was.

He looked between the two of you, completely unsure of what to say. It seemed he was in quite a pickle as it seemed his wife’s unpredictable behavior would soon get in the way of his endeavors with you.

“You know, you’re a cute one, doll,” she said, her tongue slightly poking through her teasing smile. Her strong accent only made every word out of her mouth even sexier, especially that pet name. Doll. You’d love to be her doll.

You felt your face heat up and your eyes ever so slightly widen. You attempted to ignore the arousal you felt beneath your dress as your nails dug anxiously into the fabric of your dress. You momentarily wondered whether you should thank her for the compliment before deciding against it. Each reaction out of you only pushed her to continue, to test your limits.

“I almost don’t blame my husband for looking at you the way he does,” she said, her eyes momentarily shifting to your cleavage before focusing on the small twitches of your face again.

You took a sharp breath and opened your mouth wider like you wanted to respond and apologize but Jordan beat you to it.

“Come on, baby. You know I only have eyes for you,” he whines and pouts like a child, leaning closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. She instantly pushes him off of her, disgusted by his touch, without sparing him a glance.

All you want to do is walk away and distance yourself from this married couple’s petty quarrel but your feet seem too heavy to move. You can’t help but love the way Naomi looks at you.

“But I can assure you he’s no fun,” she says, ignoring her husband’s pleading looks. “Very vanilla, you know? And he comes too fast.” She whispers that last part like he’s not even there although he can clearly hear her.

Both you and Jordan share the same state of shock. You can’t help but feel like you’re learning too much information about the couple you met a few minutes ago. But the way Naomi speaks to you it feels like you’ve known her much longer.

“Uh, I-I’m sorry-” you begin but are quickly interrupted.

“Myself on the other hand,” she says, trailing off for a few moments. She presses her lips together as if she’s looking through you, her thoughts taking her to far away places. The glint in her eye is mischievous and you want her to take you with her. “We can have lots of fun together.”

Your insides are screaming the moment the words leave her lips, her devilish smile only making the feeling worse. You can only dream about what she’s implying and your imagination runs wild. You’re already putty in her hands, you both can feel it.

“What’d you say, you wanna be friends?” she says, her tone seemingly innocent. But one look in those blue eyes would say otherwise.

“Friends?” you ask breathlessly. You let your head hang low and your bottom lip push out toward her, silently questioning the meaning of the word.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling brightly. But there’s a coy element about it. “You wanna be my friend?” Her eyes check you out once more just for emphasis.

There’s your answer.

The initial goal of seducing Jordan is long forgotten. Quick cash seems irrelevant compared to the duchess before you, especially now that she seems within reach. If you didn’t accept her offer you were sure you’d regret it.

You nod cautiously.

“Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”

She instantly beams at you with a conniving grin while internally congratulating herself for a mission accomplished. You feel your lips reciprocate in a stunned smile.

“Good. Let’s get you another drink, doll” she says, reaching out and grabbing your hand. She tugs you behind her as she heads toward the home bar. She gives you a raunchy look over her shoulder while you let her control your every movement. “Then I can show you around.”

Your smile grows while Jordan is left standing stupidly by himself. He curses under his breath, wondering how he fumbled so badly.

i'm screaming

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bookuce · 4 months ago

Text

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

PART NINE

PART TEN

Alina hadn't gone on a double date in years. Some of her favorite dates just so happened to be doubles. After Theo, it didn't happen much anymore. She had started seeing her friends less in gatherings and seeing them more alone. What Theo did ruined the healthy dynamic of the friend group and made Alina feel like she was forcing her friends to choose between him and her. She never wanted to be that friend but had to. She refused to reopen wounds that hadn't fully healed for a two-to-three-hour outing.

Yesterday's events didn't help either. Somehow, years of growth and healing went out the door once Theo chose to stir up drama. Now, her best friend won't talk to her, and their friend group's dynamic has shifted again because of him. She glances over at Josh, Trinity, and Jon, watching as they talk and laugh with each other. Alina's spent all of two years with these people. They've become her family away from home, her family period. What would happen to them if she and Josh broke up?

Alina didn't want to think about that, but because of Theo, she had no choice but to do so. She'd probably have to switch shows and relearn how to be alone again. She wasn't looking forward to that. She and Josh have been joined at the hip for a year now and even more now than ever. Losing him would hurt her more than anything--especially now that they were together. They were in too deep with each other now.

A bump to her arm would pull her attention from the outside. She and Josh would lock eyes with each other. Dark brown eyes searched hazel ones for a moment before Josh decided to speak up. "You good?" He asks lowly. He knew she wasn't, but would she tell him that right now? No, she'd save that for a conversation later.

"Yeah, I'm fine," She starts. "just thinking." She finishes, turning her attention towards the window again. Josh continues watching her before reaching over to grab her hand. She looked at him once more, watching as he clasped his large hands around her own and pressed multiple kisses to it.

Josh knew Alina would be hard to reach after everything that happened this weekend. Between him, her ex, and her best friend ignoring her, she was emotionally and physically exhausted. He hoped this outing with Jon and Trinity would take her mind off it all for a few hours--or at least the rest of the night. She deserved peace, laughter, and happiness, and he planned to give her all that tonight--and any other day she needed it.

"Lina, you excited to meet our parents tomorrow?" Jon asks, causing the couple to turn their attention to him. Josh's lip curled slightly at his brother, making Jon lean back slightly. "What? She ain't know?" He asks.

"No, Jon, but thank you for telling her," Josh says, annoyed.

"Were you not gonna tell me?" Alina asks. As soon as the question left her mouth, she regretted it. It was hypocritical of her to be upset at that, considering Lina let Josh meet her ex-fiancé and didn't give him a warning. Josh turns his attention back to her just as she closes her eyes. "I'm sorry." She sighs, shaking her head.

Jon and Trinity glanced between the couple before looking at each other. He furrows his brows at her, and she shakes her head, a silent conversation happening between the two. They didn't know the full extent of yesterday's events and planned to ask later, but with how their brother and his girl were acting, they should hold off on being nosy for a while. Josh gently nudges Alina, forcing her to open her eyes. They'd stare at each other again. "Can we enjoy ourselves tonight, please?" He asks her.

Immediately, Alina begins to nod. "Yeah," She starts. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. You ain't did nothing," Josh says, turning away. Josh looks between his brother and sister before sniffling and shifting his gaze to the floor. Alina would return her regard out the window, watching as buildings passed them by. She still didn't know where they were going and now had to worry about meeting Josh's parents tomorrow. She's been with the company for two years and never met Rikishi, nor did the twins ever talk about him. Josh spoke of his mother a lot--a Mama's Boy, this one is.

"Alright," Trinity breathes, glancing down at her phone. The car ride quickly became awkward, and she needed a way out soon. "The GPS says we should be arriving in about five minutes." She announces.

"Good," Jon mutters. "before they start fighting back there."

"Bruh, shut up." Snaps Josh.

"You shut up," Jon echoes, turning around again. Josh sits up in his seat. "You ain't gonna do nothing."

"Says who?" Josh asks.

"Shit, me and Theo will be twins to-day!" Jon smacks his lips at him, turning his head to laugh slightly. He points at his brother, wiggling his finger quickly from left to right. "So will that right and left eye." Alina and Trinity roll their eyes at the conversation happening. The twin brothers were bickering. It was nothing new--they've seen them fight plenty of times; they're usually okay right after. Jon enjoyed knowing he could effortlessly get under his brother's skin. He says it's his responsibility as the eldest brother to get on his nerves, but Josh would beg to differ.

"Wait till we get out of this car." Josh threatens, prompting Jon to throw his hands up in feigning fear.

"Can y'all not do this right now?" Trinity says.

"Yeah," Alina agrees, looking between the twin brothers. "Last time, someone called the cops." She reminds them. Their fights were never serious, just a headlock and a shove here and there. If one threw a hit too hard, the other would initiate an actual scuffle. It was rare, but it happened. The brothers stared at each other in silence, one with a goofy grin, the other with a gaze cold enough to kill a man.

"Ay, listen to your wife," Josh advises, pointing his index finger at him.

"Listen to yours." Jon echoes back. Alina cut her eyes at Josh to see his reaction to the title his brother gave her. Josh glances in Alina's direction briefly before relaxing in his seat. She furrows her brows a little, glancing between Jon and Trinity before letting her eyes settle on her boyfriend. Alina half-expected Josh to scold his brother about the 'wife' comments like he commonly did, but it never came.

The car slows to a halt, cueing everyone to look at the windows. They were in the parking lot of a karaoke lounge. Alina quickly turns her attention towards the Fatu trio in front of her. "Oh, are y'all deadass?" She asks, earning grins from everyone.

"A family that karaoke together stays together," Jon says. "Now get your ass out of the car." He tells her. She looked at Josh, who was already getting out. Her reaction was why he didn't mention where they were going. He knew that if she found out they were going to a karaoke bar, she would try to find a way out of the date. He wasn't going to allow that to happen.

Josh made his way around to her side of the car, opening her door. She peers up at him with wide eyes. "Baby." She whispers at him.

"Get out the car, Alina." He tells her, holding his hand out for her to take. She sits there for a moment, her mouth agape. Josh tucks his lips between his teeth, his eyes briefly going to the ground. He was trying not to laugh in her face about this, but her reaction was just what he expected it to be. She never wanted to do things that she felt were embarrassing, and now she had no choice. He was forcing her out of her comfort zone. "Come on now, honey, the driver got places to be." He says, urging her to get out.

She glances back at the driver, who is glancing back and forth between the couple. He waited patiently for the chaotic group to leave his car, but Alina refused to let him end this ride. "How much to drive me back home?" She asks him. Josh smacks his lips at the question, reaching in to pull her from the car. "Josh!"

"Have a good night." He calls out to the driver before shutting the door behind Alina.

The couple begins to walk towards the entrance of the lounge. Music and terrible singing are heard outside the venue, making Alina's stomach knot. "I'm not singing." She tells him, making him scoff.

"We'll see." He says, holding the door open for her.

"I mean it." She says, looking at him as she passes him on the way in.

Josh didn't believe that one bit. If he knew only one thing about Alina, he knew that with the right amount of alcohol in her system, she'd do anything. Whether sober Lina liked it or not, drunk Lina was going to be on that stage singing her heart out by the end of the night.

She wasn't a terrible singer either. She was quite the opposite. Alina grew up in church as a choir girl, versed in the hymns of her ancestors. That wasn't her choice; her mother made her do it. She now avoids having to do it unless her grandmother asks her to. Josh knew she could sing. He's heard her sing softly to herself plenty of times before and thinks she has the prettiest voice. It was never where he was supposed to hear her. She sang behind closed doors, in the safeties of her shower, or the kitchen while she cooked, but never where he was supposed to hear her.

The group of four approaches the hostess, the older woman's eyes lighting up at them. "Well, this ain't a sight you see often in here." She says, coming around the podium to hug the twins and Trinity. Alina quickly caught on that this was a regular spot for the Fatus when they were here in Pensacola--which was strange because Josh couldn't sing to save his fucking life.

"Hey, Miss Lana." Jon greets her, wrapping her in a tight embrace before passing her off to his wife. "How you been?" He asks.

"Good, your father was in here last night." She says. "Are y'all gonna out-perform him tonight?" She asks, moving on from Trinity and on to Josh. She notices the black eye, but she has but opts out of questioning it. The boy has gotten into fights for as long as she's known him, so picking up a career in wrestling made sense for him. What a strong warrior spirit behind that sweet face of his.

"C'mon, Miss Lana, you already know." He answers, pulling back from the hug. Miss Lana turns her attention to Alina, giving her a look over.

"Now, who's this pretty girl next to you, Joshua?" She asks. Alina holds her hand out, a bright smile on her face.

"I'm Alina, Josh's girlfriend." She says. Alina wasn't sure of the importance of this woman to the Fatus, but it did seem she was in tight with their entire family. She didn't want any negative word to get back to The Twins' parents that she was anything short of sweet. The older lady takes her hand and shakes it gently.

"Pleasure," She nods, turning her attention to Josh. His gaze shifts from Alina to the little lady again, his eyebrows raised. He had been watching how the two women interacted with each other, hoping that the family friend would approve of her. "Something tells me she's a keeper." She informs him, earning a mental sigh from the man.

The little old lady turns away from the group, walking back around the podium. "I would be crazy not to agree." He says, reaching down to wrap his hand around Alina's. She squeezes gently, getting a tight squeeze back from him. She smiles softly to herself, her eyes finding the ground.

"Well, I'll let y'all go in. Have fun." Miss Lana says, shooing them away. Josh would begin to pull Alina into the lounge area. The space was dimly lit, adorned in purple, red, and blue lights to set the mood. Each table had candles at its center to make the setting intimate. Currently on the stage was someone singing a terrible rendition of Insatiable by Prince. The lounge was packed with people, a constant for this place. It was extremely popular with the people of Pensacola.

They stop in front of a vacant table for four, the Twins moving around to pull out chairs for their women. Trinity and Alina sit in the two chairs toward the middle, leaving Jon and Josh to both be on the outside. "So take it slow, baby, and let's unwind!" Sings the person on the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers. "Do you really want all my clothes off?" He asks, running his hand over his chest and gyrating his hips.

Alina's eyes widen when the singer erupts into a shrill scream, earning more applause. "Oh no." She groans to herself. She turned to Josh, who was still standing next to his seat. He was watching the performer, his head moving to the song. She taps his leg, making him lean down to her height. "This was not what I expected when you said double date!" She shouts over the booming music and people.

"Oh, you said you want a drink?" He replies. He was purposely ignoring her complaining at the moment. She furrows her brows at his response.

"What? No, I said--." Josh turns and walks off toward the bar. Jon follows after him, leaving Trinity and Alina alone. Lina scoffs to herself. "You could've given me a heads up." She says, turning towards her friend.

Josh and Jon approached the bar together, both leaning up against it at the same time. "Thanks for doing this with me, Uce," Josh says, clasping his hands together tight. Jon glances over at his brother, his eyes immediately going up to the bruise on his eye. He shakes his head gently.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" He asks, bypassing the appreciation his brother was trying to show him. "Did he hit you with a brick or something?" He asks. Josh sucked in a breath, his jaw clenching and unclenching while he tried to choose his words carefully.

"He had on some rings--or something; I wasn't paying attention." He answers. "All I remember is that he came over talking about some; he asked Alina to leave me and be with him. She told him no, and he followed it up with, 'Well, she told me she loved me, and I love her too'." The bartender would come over to them, interrupting their conversation. "Let me get a beer and a tequila sunrise." He answers for him and Alina; Jon orders for him and Trin, sending the bartender on his way.

Josh pulls out his wallet, getting ready to pay, but Jon taps his shoulder. "I got it, Uce, y'all been through it this weekend." He says, prompting Josh to put his wallet back in his pocket. Jon slides his card across the countertop to the bartender. "What did you say to make him hit you that hard?" He asks after several moments of silence. "Because you had to have said something crazy." Jon assumes.

Josh gives a smug grin, glancing down at his hands. "Why do you assume I said something crazy?" He asks. Jon and Josh look up at each other at the same time. A smile grows on Jon's face.

"Because I know you, stupid." He notes. "What did you say?"

Josh chuckles softly. "I asked him if he thought Alina would play house with him and then told him that if she wanted to be a mother, all she had to do was ask me." He confesses. Jon stares at him for a few moments longer before bursting into laughter.

"Yeah, you deserved that shit, Uce." He says, leaning into his brother. "That's some crazy shit to say to a person's ex." He tells him. Josh would shrug slightly, his eyes averting to the drinks placed on the countertop for them. Josh reaches forward for his beer, taking a quick swig of it. "Did he draw blood?" Jon asks suddenly, his eyes on his brother again. Josh's eyes remain fixated on the beer bottle in his hand. He twisted it from left to right as he studied the label.

He knew where this was going. Always the Devil on his shoulder, that Jon was. "Yeah." He answers.

"So, we're getting your lick back, right?" He presses, prompting Josh to look at him. They would watch each other silently for a few before Jon pressed on. "It's only fair. Blood for blood."

"You trying to get us arrested."

"Not if provoked." He says quickly.

Josh smacks his lips at him, looking at his brother. "Man, what?" He asks.

"Let him pop up again. He's in the friend group, ain't he?" He asks. "Alina's gonna get an invite somewhere--."

"Fuck no," He starts. "you going to have me fuck up her friendships more than I already have." He tells Jon. Despite Alina blaming everything that happened yesterday on her, Josh took full responsibility for the events of the evening. He was confident that was causing Tasha to not talk to her, and he planned on fixing it eventually. He just needed to figure out how to approach it without making everything worse, and fighting was not a solution. With one last glance at his big brother, Josh grabs Alina's drink from the counter and walks towards the table.

Jon appears next to Josh with his drinks in hand. "All you gotta do is let me know when something is happening, I'll plan a trip to Atlanta for me and Trin, and we'll get his ass outside somewhere." He proposes. Josh comes to a stop.

"Bruh, no." He objects. "I'm not doing that to Alina." He stresses with a shake of his head. Josh resumes his walk to the table, leaving Jon blown away by his refusal to fight. Any other time, Josh would have said 'hell yeah' to beating up someone, but he was not interested in hurting Alina more than she already is. The fight that happened last night shouldn't have even happened, and he regretted even entertaining Theo's ass. Was this growth? Maybe, maybe not.

In Jon's eyes, Theo deserved an ass-whooping. What do you mean you approached his brother and told him you tried to sabotage his relationship? What do you mean you initiated a fight, your boys saved you from getting fucked up, and you drew blood? That man should be on his way to a hospital! Jon watches as Josh passes Alina off her drink.

Eh, he just needed a little more persuading.

"Thank you, baby," Alina says as she takes the Tequila Sunrise. Josh sits down next to her, pulling his chair to her side. His knees pressed into the side of her leg, his body leaning in towards her.

"Yo, we want to thank everyone for coming out for R&B night tonight," The DJ starts. "It's gonna be a night of love and nothing but straight vibes, you feel me?" The crowd cheered around them. "We got any lovers in the crowd tonight?" Alina lifts her hand to her mouth, letting out her own cheer.

She then leans towards Josh, causing his eyes to light up at the attention. "That's all you're getting out of me tonight." She tells him, making him laugh. She leans away once more, her eyes going to the stage. He taps her leg, calling her attention back to him. She leans in again, giving a quick peck to his lips.

"The next person on the list will serenade you with the sounds of Jon B. Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for Max." The DJ says, calling out for the next person in the queue. What was interesting about this karaoke lounge to Alina was how receptive everyone was to being there. The cheers of drunken patrons helped make those on stage feel more comfortable embarrassing themselves.

They Don't Know started to play throughout the lounge as the next performer got on stage. "How y'all doing tonight?" He calls out. Jovialities break out around the room, including Josh, who only shouts to make Alina laugh, which he does successfully. "Sing along if you know the word. Clap on the beat if you don't," Max instructs them. "Heard about my past, the things I used to do." He sings off-key. Alina grimaces slightly at the delivery, bringing her glass to her lips. Maybe this will all start sounding right by the night's end if she gets more drinks in her system.

Josh leans into Alina again, his mouth to her ear. "How are you feeling?" He asks, sending shivers down her spine. He probably shouldn't ask as often, but he needed to know.

She glances down at her drink before turning her head to face him. "Considering I still don't have my phone?" She asks.

"You're not getting your phone back tonight." He says quickly, shaking his head. "I told you I need you here with me." He reminds her.

She watches him for a moment, her eyes skimming over his face. "She's my best friend, Josh." She says finally.

"I understand that," He starts. "but she could care less that you are losing sleep over her. You've been trying to contact her, and she's not answering. I don't like that." Tasha and Alina were two grown adults who could settle their differences with a simple conversation, but one refused. He could see why they were best friends now; Alina did that to them often when she was upset with him. Alina looks away from him, her eyes focused on the performer on the stage now. "Ay," He says, calling her attention back to him. "You shouldn't have had to find out from someone else that she was mad at you." He says, shaking his head gently at her.

He was right. Alina shouldn't have had to find out that way, but she understood why she did. She would be upset too if that was her wedding and her maid of honor and boyfriend were fighting the best man during a day that was supposed to be about her. "She wants to act like this, let her. Give her her space and let her come to you. That's what I do." He says, making her hang her head and laugh.

"That's what you do?" She asks, looking up at him. He smiles big at her.

"Yeah, that's what I do." He repeats, nodding his head. "You still here, aren't you?" He asks. She grins at his question before nodding slowly. Josh leans in, pressing a few kisses to her lips. "It's going to work itself out one way or another." He promises.

"I know," She starts. "I'm just worried."

"And that's fine," He says. "If something changes, I'll be here; so will Trin and Jon, but until then, be here with us. We planned this whole outing just for you."

Alina tilts her head to the side. "And you chose a karaoke bar?" She asks.

"Ay, it's fun. You're just hating right now cause you're in a bad mood, and that's fine." He says. "I forgive you, though." Josh looks away from Alina and to the stage. The tone-deaf singer that was up there was finally closing out his song.

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As the night progressed and more drinks got into her system, Alina began to liven up. She found herself singing along with the performers that were up on the stage. She sways from left to right in her seat, her right foot tapping as she does so. Yesterday's events quickly became an afterthought for sober Lina to worry about tomorrow. Lina was in a great mood right now.

Josh had walked off a few moments ago; she assumed to get more drinks, but it's been a while. She turns in her seat towards the front of the building, eyes scanning the bar for a mullet of curls. When she didn't spot them, she turned to Jon and Trin, who were cuddled up with each other. Trin had moved from her seat into her man's lap, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. She taps Jon's arm, getting both of their attention.

"Where did Josh go?" She asks. As soon as the question left her mouth, Trin started looking around the venue. Jon did a slow turn towards the bar. When he didn't see him there, he looked at Alina.

"He ain't gone far." He assures him. Josh wasn't one to wander after a few drinks. Then again, they did get lost in Times Square that one time. He quickly expelled the thought of his twin running off somewhere drunkenly from his mind. "I'll call him." He says, removing his phone from his pocket.

Alina snatches Josh's phone off the table and shows it to his brother. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we got a rare treat for y'all tonight in The Marina Lounge," The DJ starts. "Get ready to be serenaded with the sweet sounds of Pensacola's own, Ucey Juicey!" If Alina turned her head any faster, she would've broken her neck. I know that ain't who I think it is, she thought, standing to her feet to see over the crowds of standing people.

"Yeeeeeeet," Josh says into the mic, confirming Alina's suspicions quickly. Her boyfriend was on the stage, slapping hands with the people in the front row. He wasn't about to sing, was he?

"Good God up above..." She says to herself.

"Ay, I want to dedicate this song to the love of my life, the future Mrs. Joshua Fatu, Miss Lina McLemore." He says, making her hang her head at the dedication. "That's my best friend, y'all, I love her." Dear God, he was about to sing. Music began playing, prompting Alina to look at the stage in second-hand embarrassment, half of her face covered as she watched her man prepare to make an ass of himself.

The crowd clapped to the beat, hyping him up more than before. He takes a sip of the Tequila Sunrise he had in his hand, which could be the cause of this performance. At what point in the night he switched to fruity drinks was a mystery to her. "I can't imagine life without you by my side..." He sings. He slurred his words together as he sang the first few lines. Alina stifles a laugh, closing her eyes to gather her composure.

"Damn, not you got this man singing songs for you," Jon says, earning a glare from her. "Tyrese at that? That boy sprung." Trinity slaps his chest.

"I don't see you singing for me." She says.

"I'ma sing for you later. My falsetto nice." He says, sticking his tongue out. Both girls would groan at his response. Alina turns her attention back to the stage.

"Things tend to slip my mind like how you like to wine and dine, babe..." He sings, lifting the hand that held his plastic cup in the air. "Yeet." He adds. Alina giggles lightly at him, turning to grab his phone. She needed to record this. No one at work would believe her unless Lina showed them. She takes hers from beneath Josh's, switching the phone into camera mode. "Ay! Have I told you I loved you? Alina..." He sings. "Have I told you that you mean the world to me..."

Josh started to dance, letting the instrumental play for a few moments. "The song, Uce! Sing the damn song!" Jon shouts, reminding his brother to sing.

The younger twin stops dancing, leaning over slightly to laugh at himself. "My bad, y'all--." He apologizes, looking up at the teleprompter. "Where the fuck was I?" He asks himself. Someone would shout something at him, making him laugh again. "Ay, you ain't lied!" He responds, pointing at them.

Alina turns to Jon. "I hope you know you're helping me get him in the house." She tells him. Jon cringes slightly, pulling his bottom lip down at her words. His hand goes up to the back of his neck, rubbing at the back.

"Jon," Trinity says, looking back at him.

"I'm not going to let her carry his big ass in alone, girl, damn." He says, bringing his hand to his chest. "I was just playing." He says to Trin. She leans in to press two kisses to his lips.

"And verbally, I tend to forget how much I L-O-V-E-U really means..." Josh yells into the microphone, bringing Alina, Trin, and Jon's attention back to his drunken singing. "Lately, have I told you I loved you? Alina..." Adding her name to the lyrics made her laugh. Her feelings of embarrassment began to subside the longer she watched him.

Josh made it his life's mission to remind Alina often how much he loved her. If he didn't use words, he would express it with his actions, eyes, and hands, in silence, alone, or on stage in a crowded room full of drunken people. If he could do it on national television, he would. That man was in love, and there was no denying it.

The song ends, and the crowd erupts into cheers again. Alina would join them, a big smile on her face. "Thank you, thank you," Josh says, passing the microphone off to the DJ. Josh came walking through the crowd, dapping up people greeting him on his way back to his table. "How'd I do?" He asks his group once he makes it over. Josh wraps an arm around Alina's shoulders, draping his weight on her body and causing them to stagger barely. He leans in to press several kisses to her lips, the taste of orange juice and tequila still in his mouth.

"You're not going to Hollywood, that's for sure." She teases between kisses.

"That's fine," He starts. He turns his head to finish the last of his drink. "I'm tryna take you home, though," He says, leaning in for one more kiss. "Give you an encore performance." Thick black eyebrows lift to help with the delivery of his words.

"You're going to sleep when we get home." She tells him.

"Who said that?" He questions.

"Me." She replies.

He points at the stage, looking over his shoulder slightly at it. "Girl, I just sang my ass off on that stage for you." He says, looking back at her. "Panties gotta drop."

"Boy--." She starts, pulling back to look at him. She laughs softly at his words. "We are going home, and your drunk ass is going to sleep! That's final." He scoffs at her, tilting his head up in disbelief. His brows furrowed, and his top lip curled slightly. The man was shocked, hurt, sad, and possibly depressed at her rejection. In reality, he was being dramatic.

"See if I sing for your ass again." He tells her.

"I hope not." She says, looking back at Jon and Trin. "Y'all ready to go?" She breathes.

Trin and Jon stand to their feet, both nodding simultaneously. "Yeah, we can call it a night." The eldest twin answers. "Let's get Keith Sweat over here home." He says, with a sigh. Josh lifts his middle finger at his brother, but Alina pushes it back down. She takes that hand of his, unwraps his arm from her shoulders, and pulls him towards the entrance.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Josh asks. Even though he was heavily intoxicated, he still wanted to make sure his girl had fun. That was the goal for the night: to make sure she had fun.

She turns to face him, a broad smile on her face. "I did."

Josh nods to himself, proud he was able to get her mind off of everything. "Good." He answers. It would get temporarily quiet between the pair as they watched each other. "I'll send you my bill since you won't fuck me."

"Josh!" She groans.

"I'm just saying."

PART ELEVEN

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A/N: we love a good double date! i wasn't planning on this chapter to be as long as it was, but here we are. 🤭

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #jey uso fanfic #Spotify

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daycourtofficial · 11 months ago

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 8

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: this is ridiculous and incredibly self-indulgent but I don’t care I had so much fun writing this. This is the iconic karaoke chapter and I’m so excited 😌

(Masterlist)

Azriel drove the two of you through town, his motorcycle moving through traffic with ease. Your hold on him continues until he eventually pulls into a parking lot, stopping right in front of a small restaurant nestled beside an Insomnia Cookies store. You were quite impressed with how well you handled the ride - you had kept your gasps and nerves to a minimum.

Until you realized you had to get off the bike.

“Uhhh,” you say, looking at the ground as if the two or three feet away from the asphalt was a ravine.

He chuckles, sensing your hesitation.

“Hold onto my shoulders and just slide off.”

You breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the worst case scenario - either falling off the bike or death. You’re not entirely sure which is preferable.

You follow Azriel’s advice, your hands bracing your weight on his shoulders, sliding off with relative ease. You put your hands up in the air, jumping around at how proud you are of not dying. Azriel just chuckles, shaking his head as he mounts the bike, helping you pull off your helmet.

You two go in, and you look around to see only a one other couple at a table, eating what can only be described as the most delectable smelling sandwiches you’ve ever encountered. You spend a moment looking at the massive menu trying to figure out what sandwich you want. Azriel waits on you, and when you nod to him that you’re ready, he steps forward to the counter.

“Can I get a 12 inch triple meat and a 12 inch meatball sub, and whatever she’s having,” he says, motioning for you to tell him what you want.

You’re a bit surprised, and you desperately want to crack a joke about a 12 inch triple meat, but you bite your tongue, asking for a philly cheese steak instead.

Azriel pays, and you thank him as you two find a table.

“So… 12 inch triple meat, huh?”

Azriel snorts, “it’s Cassian’s go to.”

“What’s on it?”

“I’m pretty certain they just shove a bunch of different kinds of meat on bread, layer a bunch of cheese on top, and warm it up.”

“Hmmm,” you hum, “very on brand for him.”

The guy who took your order brings you your sandwiches in little baskets, one sandwich packed away in a bag.

Cassian’s triple meat, no doubt.

“How’d you like being my backpack?” Azriel asks, biting his sandwich, half of it coming out of the end.

“Excuse me?” You ask, taking a bite of your own, trying to keep the contents inside of the sandwich as you eat.

“My backpack. You were riding on my back, like a backpack.”

“Oh,” you push some hair behind your ear, “It uh wasn’t too bad, it was actually fun when I got used to it.”

“Yeah? Would you ride with me again?”

His eyes sparkle a bit at you, whether that was from the sunlight peaking through the window or if that was just Azriel, you’re not sure.

“Yeah, I think I would. When I was a kid I always wanted to ride a motorcycle,” you say, smiling. “How did you end up driving one?” You ask, not taking your eyes off of him

He hums, thinking about how to respond. “I always wanted to ride one, too. Then after the incident with my hands,” he holds up his gloved hands as if making a point, “after I relearned how to use my hands, all I could think about for years was riding. During my physical therapies, whenever it was getting hard or frustrating, I imagined myself older, being able to grip the handles, feel the wind on me.”

You just smile at him, unsure what to say, hoping your smile comes across as friendly as you tell him, “I just thought it looked cool.”

A smile breaks across his face, a beautiful laugh coming from him.

“It does look cool,” he replies, bunching up the paper from his sandwich once he finishes, throwing it into the basket.

“Rhys actually bought me the bike.”

Your eyes move from the paper to his face, and a somber look overtakes him.

“When we were kids he told me after those therapies that he’d buy me a bike once we were old enough.”

He shakes his head, the memories of all the times Rhys said those words to him coming in and out of his thoughts.

“I never expected him to follow through on it. But he did. He bought me the bike as a graduation gift.”

You were about to ask how an 18 year old could afford that, but Azriel beats you to it.

“Rhys’s dad is somewhat in the picture. If Rhys does things for him, mostly making appearances at family functions, he gets extra money.”

“His dad does pay our rent, and Rhys has a credit and debit card from his dad, but he also needed his dad to sign on for the bike.”

“Your brothers must really love you,” you say, reaching your hand out to cover his.

He looks up at you, hazel eyes peering into your own and he smiles, “yeah, yeah they do.”

You walk into the gym that Cassian and Azriel work at. It was quite large and it looked incredibly pristine. It’s full of people working out, seemingly everyone in town was spending their Saturday afternoon sweating the week off.

Azriel pulls out his phone, shooting a text to Cassian about his sandwich. The two of you chat idly about the gym, and Azriel tells you a bit about the guy who does the scheduling when you catch a glimpse of long hair in a half messy bun on the top of his head.

You see Cassian’s head come from a corner and he makes his way to you two, his grin getting bigger as he sees you next to his brother.

“How’d your date go last night?” He asks, not mentioning Az’s spare helmet in your hand or how if he blew out a breath you’d be touching his brother.

Azriel glares at Cassian over you, but you tell him, “uh, terribly, actually. He was a douche.”

Cassian grabs his lunch from Azriel, thanking him.

“That’s too bad.”

And yet, Cassian wouldn’t stop smiling at you. You go to ask him more, but he tells you, “I gotta go - I only have a few minutes to eat. Thanks,” he tells you, and before you realize what’s happening, he’s grabbing your head giving you a kiss on the forehead, doing the same to Azriel.

The two of you stand there confused as Cassian walks away, over his shoulder yelling, “do NOT forget about karaoke tonight!”

You stepped into your living room, to find Rhys, Mor, and Az lounging on your couches, not adhering to the bar’s theme. Rita’s did themed karaoke nights once a month and this month’s theme was cowboys.

Naturally you pulled out your Barbie costume from last Halloween, and are now looking at your non-costumed friends gobsmacked.

“Why is no one else dressed up?” You ask incredulously, as all three of them look towards you. Rhys and Mor start laughing, but Azriel lets his eyes graze up and down your body, his gaze making you wonder if you’re even wearing clothes right now.

Mor smiles at you, “we don’t follow the theme - Cassian does though.”

You huff, crossing your arms, “he made it seem like all of you dressed up!”

Rhys’s eyes dance with amusement as he tells you, “because he wanted you to dress up too.”

As if you summoned him, Cassian comes out wearing black leather pants, no shirt, a matching vest, and a cowboy hat. He looks at you, smiling wide. “You look great!” He tells you, clapping you on the shoulder as he walks past you. “Uber’s here.”

You don’t have time to turn around and change as your group is herded out the door and down the elevator. It hadn’t occurred to you to question how the five of you would fit into an uber until you got down to the curb, Mor bolting for the passenger seat as the guys get into the car.

“You can just sit on someone’s lap,” Mor tells you flippantly, before placing a finger on her nose telling you, “nose goes.”

Az, Rhys, and Cass get into the backseat, and Cass pats his lap for you, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Ew,” you tell him, clambering to get in on Az’s side. “I don’t trust you, Cass.”

You drape your legs over Rhys’s lap, your feet landing in Cassian’s hands as you get situated on Az’s lap. You shoot him a look, wanting to know if this is okay, but he’s talking to the uber driver.

You pull up your phone, typing a note into your notes app, showing it to him once he’s finished with whatever he was telling the driver.

Is this okay?

You show it to him as Cassian and Rhys are watching the end of a rugby game on Cassian’s phone on the other end of the backseat. Az reaches for your phone, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he grabs your phone. You watch him type, his fingers dancing across your keyboard, their scarred skin providing a texture you want to touch.

It’s more than fine.

He had replied, and you’re about to respond when he grabs your phone again, typing out:

Just like the way you look in that costume.

He hands you your phone back, smiling as a blush floods your cheeks. He puts his arms around your torso, holding you in place, and one of his hands gently holds onto your hips, securing you to him.

Sitting mostly in Azriel’s lap, you spend the car ride holding onto him, leaning your head into his neck for support while you talk to Cassian, who keeps threatening to tickle your feet. You tell him you get spazzy when tickled, which would give Rhys a free knee to the face.

“Please don’t, Cass. I’d like to keep my face intact for tonight.”

“Yeah because Feyre’s meeting us at Rita’s and he wants to look good,” Mor replies from the front seat, drawing out the last word.

Rhys rolls his eyes, but you do notice him unlock his phone to the messages between him and your friend, the last one asking her to let him know when she got there.

The five of you arrive to Rita’s, a bar located on the edge of campus, just close enough to be packed full of other students.

Mor leads the group in, with Rhys saying, “Feyre’s on her way.” The blonde leads your group to a large round booth in the corner, all of you piling in. Mor sits on your right as you maneuver your way in, Azriel right beside you.

Cassian sits on the edge, likely so he can get up and go sing without being too much of a hindrance. Rhys doesn’t sit down, heading to the bar to grab drinks for everyone instead.

And perhaps keep an eye on the door for a certain brunette.

The four of you sit in the booth, Cassian being uncharacteristically quiet as he waits for Rhysand to bring him his traditional shot before performing.

You nudge Az, getting him to turn his attention to his brother.

“You okay, Cass?”

Cassian shrugs him off, “I just want my shots. You know I prefer being a bit buzzed before going up there.”

You reach in front of Azriel, squeezing Cassian’s forearm, “you’re going to be great!”

Cassian softly smiles at you, his hand covering yours in a gentle squeeze, “thanks, sweetheart.”

Cassian did seem in better spirits, opting to pick up a conversation with Mor about the best shots to drink before karaoke.

You turn to Az, the two of you closer than necessary in the booth, but you can’t bring yourself to scoot away.

“So, Barbie huh?” He asks, his fingers touching the pink pleather fabric on your shoulder.

You’re confused for a moment, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, yeah. Mor wanted us to go as different Barbies from the movie for Halloween - she was rollerskating Barbie, I was cowgirl Barbie, and Feyre was the pink gingham dress Barbie.”

He rests his arm on the booth behind you, and you stay as still as possible so you won’t scare him off as he asks, “no Kens?”

You laugh, “no Kens, unfortunately.”

His smile is on the verge of cracking his face in half as he says, “maybe this Halloween you’ll have some Kens.”

Before you can reply, Rhysand comes back with a tray of shots and Feyre behind him, wearing a very cute black mini dress.

“Traitor!” You shout at her, as she scooches in next to Mor.

“Rhys told me we didn’t actually dress up,” she defends, holding her hands up. Your eyes shoot to violet ones, their gaze full of mischief. Rhys smiles at you, and your jaw drops, “and you didn’t think to extend the same courtesy to me?”

Rhys’s grin grows feral, “I thought surely with all the texting you and Azriel have been doing, he would have told you.”

You turn, smacking him on the shoulder as he chuckles. “Okay, okay, I should have told you, but you were so excited about it, how could I rip that from you?”

You scoff, “I look like an idiot.”

“A cute idiot.”

Your blush doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone at the table, as Mor pokes her nose in. “I think it’s only fair if next time we come out Azzy and Rhys adhere to the theme.”

Your eyes light up, pointing to Mor, “oh oh oh, I like that idea!”

Rhys turns to cousin, “and why am I involved in this?”

“It only seems fair. You told Feyre that we don’t dress up, so you should have told her as well.”

Azriel butts in, “well Feyre could have told her too.”

Feyre motions her hand over her throat, trying to stop Azriel from speaking further.

“It’s decided then,” Mor says, “the three of you adhere to the theme for next month’s karaoke.”

You pick up your glass and clink it to Mor’s, solidifying the deal. Everyone else is groaning, slumping back in their seats, but this agreement causes Cassian to become invigorated. He’s buzzing with excitement, and at least three shots of vodka, as one of the bartenders walks up to the mic and says, “next up for karaoke - everyone’s favorite - Cassian!”

Cassian gets up, all of you wishing him luck as Mor places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He prances up to the stage as the scattered applause dies out. The opening notes to Shania Twain’s “Man I Feel Like a Woman” come through the speakers. Cassian lifts his head to the mic to sing, “let’s go, girls”, then turns back around away from the mic. He begins swaying his hips in time with the beat, the leather pants he’s wearing making his ass and his legs look phenomenal. His vest rises a bit as he raises his arms, and you can see the bottom of the tattoo he had gotten during your drunk escapades.

“Are we sure Cassian’s not a stripper?” You ask the table, but Mor shushes you so she can watch the show.

You turn to Azriel, leaning in close to him to whisper, “Do you know how to whistle?”

Your whole body is warm as he leans close to your ear, whispering, “Yes, why?”

You miss the look Rhys gives the two of you, huddled together impossibly close in the large expansive booth.

“I want to whistle, but I don’t know how. Can you do it?”

He obliges your request, rolling his eyes as he wolf whistles at Cassian, who beams at the attention.

You giggle, whispering to Azriel, “his stage name should be 12 inch triple meat.”

You two giggle at the joke before turning your attention back to the stage. Cassian makes it through the first chorus, and he is not receiving his dues. No one is paying any attention to him, and you’re about to ask if there’s anything you guys can do, when Mor grabs your and Feyre’s arms, pulling you out to the little dance floor in front of the stage.

You guys start singing and dancing with him, hips swaying with the music. You guys are singing to each other, smiles plastered on your faces.

You’re lost in the moment when you feel Cassian’s warm hand wrap around your wrist dragging you up on the stage. He has his other hand on Mor, so you quickly grab Feyre’s wrist, all three of you assisting him with the vocals on the “oh, oh, oh”.

It was ridiculous - the four of you on this tiny stage, everyone at Rita’s not caring as you all danced and sang, the three of you providing backing vocals for Cassian.

Three of the most important people in your life singing to Shania Twain.

It was ridiculous. It was everything.

The song ends, and you can hear Rhys and Azriel clapping enthusiastically as the four of you head back to your table.

You slide back into Azriel’s side, his smile making everything inside of you burn for more of it. You spend the rest of the night drinking as Rhys and Cassian regale you all with stories of karaoke nights of the past, the unspoken words hanging between them, but not making their way into the discussion.

The past nights of singing were nowhere near as fun as tonight was.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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