#at this point we have a more para social relationship with his hair than the man himself

[vani-ash]

Oh thank God 😭🙏

Via instagram - nos_clippers

This better be an old photo I swear to God jeff if u cut ur hair 😠😤

[thera-daydreams]

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie

[theoneryderlynn]

Self Para || One of Us

Location: Ohio State University

Date: Freshman Year of College. 

Notes: Bits of young Ryder during his freshman year in college that are relevant to his current story (aka before the Ryley era :D). Also, I have decided to pick young Vanessa Hudgens as an FC for Felicia.

Refresh.

Ryder’s eyes scrutinized his laptop’s screen as he tried to check whether his newest essay had already been graded. Nothing yet. He was feeling good about this one; the past few months in college had been decent for him. Despite being dyslexic, he’d managed to get good grades. Although Ryder was rather fond of his sessions with his tutor, he was told it wouldn’t be long till they would be necessary. He focused on the following few assignments and then rechecked his email. Seeing a familiar address, he quickly clicked on the tab.

Dear Mr. Lynn, I’m happy to inform you that your recent essay on “Social media’s influence in business” has been graded A-. Regardless of a few mistakes, your work proved excellent knowledge of the topic.

Ryder widened his eyes as he saw the message; it was hard to believe what had just happened. It was his first A in college, something he had never thought he would achieve. He grabbed his phone and sent a text to his parents and sister. Freya congratulated him, but his father seemed unbothered. “Not good enough.” He read the response out loud and sighed, leaning back. He wouldn’t let his father ruin the day. Not now.

------------------

He was lost in his thoughts for a moment as he was preparing two cups of coffee, still a little bit sleepy after an eventful Saturday night. He blinked when he realized that the warm liquid had been ready for a couple of minutes and that he was staring at the cups without doing anything. Finally, Ryder cleared his throat and moved towards the table.

“If you need sugar, I can bring…” He mumbled, placing one of the cups in front of Felicia, a brown-haired girl from his faculty. When she declined, he took a seat opposite her and took one of the forks. He was starving; luckily, she cooked a bunch of good omelets for the two of them.

“I had a really good time last night.” Ryder lifted his head when he heard Felicia’s voice, realizing that he’d just dropped his fork. He crouched down to look under the table and murmured a ‘sorry’, realizing that he was acting like an idiot. A hot girl was telling him that she had fun, and he was acting like a total fool, “You’re cute.” She added, causing him to smile. Okay, okay. Things weren’t that bad.

“I had a good time too.” He responded, a shy, lopsided grin present on his face. Somehow, these things didn’t come easily, “I should probably say, you’re cute too, but you’re like more…” He rambled on, gesticulating awkwardly. Ryder bit on his lip, blushing for a moment and realizing that he was once again doing the wrong thing. He took a small bite of his food.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

“So, I wanted to ask...you know, this thing has been going on for a while, and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to take it further. I would like to know where I stand, if we’re just a fling or something else.” She spoke up, looking Ryder in the eye, something he hadn’t expected last night when they had met up at a restaurant, and ended up in his apartment later on.

Truthfully, Ryder hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Indeed, he’d dated in high school, but things had never been serious. However, college dating seemed slightly different, so maybe it was a chance for him to change. Nevertheless, he remained quiet for a second, unable to speak. He wasn’t sure if there was a good answer to Felicia’s question.

“I’d like that. We could give it a try.” He finally spoke up with a shy smile on his face. She was lovely and gorgeous, it wouldn’t hurt, right?

She took a small sip of her coffee and shuffled a bit closer, “That’s good to hear…” Ryder felt their eyes meeting and blushed again. He wasn’t used to the serious conversations, “One more question before we can get back to business…” She started with a cheeky grin, “Look, I wanna know...What’s up with you and the Marley girl? I don’t wanna be second best, so I have to ask.”

Ryder sighed, hearing the question. People kept on asking him about one of his best friends, and he had no idea why. It’s not like there were any chances for them to get together, “Well, nothing’s happening.” The brunette shrugged, “We met in high school; I liked her a lot, cause you know, she’s crazy talented, but erm...she kinda picked someone else. I let it go. We were best friends in high school, attended Glee club together, nothing else. We changed schools after our Sophomore year. I met her again a couple of months ago here. Now we’re friends again. She’s very talented, and I like listening to her music, that’s it. Friendship, nothing more.” He explained, hoping that she would see how genuine he was being. Seconds later, he felt their hands intertwine, and he leaned forward to kiss the brunette.

So far, so good.

--------------------------

The gyms at Ohio State weren’t that bad; Ryder immensely enjoyed them. They even had a sauna room which seemed incredible, especially after a long workout. Exercising with one of his best friends was a good idea for an afternoon and a nice replacement for canceled football practice.

“So, if this NFL trial goes well, I might be leaving at the end of the year. Not a big deal.” Nathan, Ryder’s college best friend, smiled at the brunette when they finished running on the treadmills. Both of them rushed towards the dumbbells.

“I’m super happy for you, bro. I think you’ll crush it!” Ryder was genuinely happy for his buddy succeeding; he was a killer player, so he deserved it more than anyone.

“What about you?” 

“What about me…” Ryder repeated, grabbing two of the middle dumbbells, he wasn’t going to start with the heaviest ones to avoid injury. He did a few lifts before answering, “I don’t think I’ll ever be a pro player. I mean, I’m not even in the main squad. I wanna graduate, and find a nice job, whether it’s here or somewhere else.” He shrugged and kept on exercising. They both spoke about the games a little bit when Nathan said,

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Felicia had lunch with Mary last night. She saw you and Marley this week, and she wasn’t happy about it.”

Ryder frowned, “Yeah, she texted me about it. I don’t see her problem, we had brunch and talked about school. Nothing too special.” He added, placing the dumbbells where they belonged, and then started doing stretches. Nathan joined him.

“Look, I’m not saying she’s right, but you two.” He pointed at Ryder, “You and the blue-eyed lady have this kind of vibe.” He exaggerated the last word, looking Ryder in the eye.

“We’re friends. I’m allowed to have friends. I’m not going to give up my friendship with Marley because Felicia seems insecure. I’ll explain that it was nothing serious; it will be fine.” Ryder lifted himself and headed towards the other room. He wasn’t planning on dwelling on the topic for too long, the issue wasn’t worth it. 

Nathan seemed not convinced but remained quiet.

----------------------

Ryder kept staring at his phone as he checked if he’d borrowed all the necessary books from the library; the notes option was a lifesaver. Sophomore year had just started, and he was ready to learn more. He’d managed to finish the first one with a B grade which was a huge success. Even if his tutoring sessions were still set, they happened less often as his teacher was delighted with his achievements. When he was leaving the library, he almost bumped into someone. Damn, he shouldn’t be so focused on his phone, “Uh sorry…” He mumbled and lifted his eyes to see a familiar face, “Uh...hey...hey, Felicia. Hi.” He gave her an awkward nod before adjusting his backpack’s strap.

“Hey, Ryder. How was your summer?” She asked with a slight smile on his face.

Summer. Right. They hadn’t spoken for a few months. He’d spent the past summer with Marley and helped her mom at the bakery. While he’d been away from the university, he’d completely forgotten about the past year’s problems.

“Uh, it was alright. I was resting...and all that stuffs. How was yours? Everything alright?” He knew he sounded awkward, but it couldn’t be helped. Ryder wasn’t an expert when it came to these situations.

Luckily for him, his ex-girlfriend was way better at them, “It was great. I spent a month in France with my friends.” She responded with a small nod.

Ryder flashed her an awkward smile and was ready to move before she spoke again, “I saw you two yesterday. You looked very happy.” She told him, a genuine tone in her voice.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, staring at his feet.  He wasn’t sure if he was even supposed to answer, “Yeah…” He replied quietly.

“For the record, I think you’re great together. You deserve it, Ry; you’re a good guy.” She touched his shoulder, causing him to smile. Okay, so this was going way better than he’d expected. Of course, they hadn’t ended up on good terms, but maybe there was a chance to fix this. They’d see each other in class for the next few years, after all.

“Thanks. I hope you’ll find someone that makes you happy.” Ryder responded, a smile still present on his face. The past few weeks felt like a dream come true, so maybe it was apparent how ecstatic he was.

“Oh, don’t worry. I got this.” She winked at him before moving past his shoulder, “I’ll see you around.”

Ryder gave her an awkward wave and started walking towards the exit. He pulled out his phone and typed a quick message to Marley  “Lunch on me :) Let’s hang out!! Can’t wait to see you again :)”.

It was quite a decent start to their Sophomore year.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Yee haw! M//, original, discord, light-hearted

howdy, howdy friends! sweet baby jesus in a hickory rocker, what a year. i am vaxxed and waxed and looking for writing buddies once again after a year plus... things are still the same with me though, my tastes are more steady and predictable than bears shitting in the woods.

i hope you and your loved ones have been well, genuinely. it's been a scary year, and i hope to provide some humor and distraction if you are interested in writing with me.

so.

hi, i am 27, she/her, cst, and i work fulltime as well as go to school part-time, so while i cannot promise rapidfire posts, i am becoming better about daily posts! as long as they're relatively short, sweet, and to the point. i am not the person for you if you like posts that average longer than 3 paragraphs, my average is often comfortably lower.

limits/fun factoids about my style/"tl;dr are we compatible?" first:

+ when reaching out to me, please tell me your limits and any plot/character ideas!

+ addendum: i will not respond to messages that don't contain any information about you, your limits, and what you're looking to write or what characters you'd like to use! it doesn't need to be completely fleshed out, thanks!

+ i'm adaptable and laidback! however, i do not write pedophilia, rape/sexual assault, incest, abusive relationships, romantic large age gaps, nor master x slave.

+ i will not write with minors either, strongly preferred that you are 21+

+ quality is far more valuable than quantity regarding length. i prefer shorter nowadays! those tasty, 1-3 para potato chip rps, so to speak c:

+ third person only, please

+ i admittedly have a preference for m// lately

+ i prefer writing middle-aged to older farts! i'd love if you did as well

+ i love ooc chatter! i'd prefer it if you did too, but it is not a dealbreaker

+ if you're not feeling it or if life happens, that's okay. you are free to either tell me you want a change, drop altogether, or ghost, it's all good i promise ❤️

+ i am not the person for serious or dark stories, sprinkles of angst are fine - but i am not the person for a trauma trainride. i respect it, but i am the kind of person who enjoys a bit of coffee with my cup of cream and sugar and dilfs

[cravings]

+ post apocalypse slice of life is also great. with plenty of humor to spare.

+ something silly about a witch and their familiar

+ anything with werewolves and their human beloved very concerned about the recent furniture chewing phase, and wow is frontline expensive for a 400lb beast.

+ something a bit more rocky, but an old fashioned western physician falling for an outlaw/ sheriff/ rancher, etc. bonus points for post-apoc and western themed. please, i got the perfect ole grizzled doc for this c:

[modern]

+ i love modern c: i am happy writing about firefighters and lawyers, scientists, military readjusting to civilian life, boring divorced dads who find lifelong love with other divorced dads, fluffy slice-of-life, etc.

[(somewhat) historic]

+ btw, i am not a history buff - so be prepared for anachronisms galore! which might mean plumbing and dental care centuries before it was introduced.

+ noire crime! old grizzled detectives and their partners in crime trying to figure out these gosh dang murders. dang killers, bringing down everyone's vibes.

+ a detective moving to a podunk old town, with a ~mysterious past~. however, there isn't any mysterious past, the locals just humor the guy and i have a soft spot for the detective falling for the sheriff while constantly heckling him for assistance.

+ western! please, just... anything western. i love cowboys, ranches, train robberies, just... i will maybe propose if you let me indulge this.

[fantasy & monsters]

+ i am also happy to write fantasy!

+ fantasy can genuinely be blended into anything, into modern, sci-fi, post apocalyptic, etc.

+ i am also happy with pure, vanilla, cheesy fantasy - with kings, queens, beautiful warhorses and kingdoms by the sea, and conventionally attractive people with healthy teeth and... far less dysentery.

+ i am happy to write sci-fi into fantasy - hunters/mercenaries with eyes that can hologram maps and prey, platinum horses made of gaskets and titanium joints who breathe steam, a kingdom in the sky, anything!

[... guilty pleasures]

+ i love the cheesy and humorous things to temper the chaos. love writing that domestic, usually peaceful, sweet life of two happy people who have been together for ages or just met in their golden years after struggle and just... working for their happy endings.

+ though i am not usually interested in cheesy, obnoxious tropes... i have a soft spot for two grumpy, gruff guys falling for each other c:

[miscellaneous]

+ this is hardly an exhaustive list of ideas or themes that interest me! if you have something in mind that you do not see, or anything at all, please do let me know! i love brainstorming and hearing ideas c:

+ note: i love writing with pretty boy archetypes!! but i am inundated with them at the moment in my current threads, bring me yer more grizzled and rough and tough boys! the two characters i have in mind are too old and boring to keep up with pretty, lithe youngins!

what characters do i have in mind?

plenty! craving two in particular, but i have plenty more in mind if the following two don't catch your interest:

+ one is svelte, aloof, posh, thoughtful. the very characterization of something like... a sleek, abyssinian cat playing the cello. intriguing, a little odd, an intimidating, coded villain - but really, just socially awkward, and a sweetheart.

+ the other is beefy, grumpy, and also... a goof at the core. the archetype of an ornery grandpa with the warmest heart and a distinguished grey streak in his hair.

both are middle-aged men and adaptable to anything from old-fashioned fantasy, to modern, to sci-fi, to fantasy-modern hybrids, to post apocalyptic. they can be rogues, kings, survivors, lawyers, detectives, chefs, scientists, neighbors, loyal right-hands, anything from protectors and anchors to the village/office boob.

i am preferring to write the former gentleman, but i am up to write either, or someone completely different!

i am also happy to elaborate upon contact if you are interested! fortunately, each one is more complex than several adjectives and a stereotypical archetype. i'd also love to hear the characters you have in mind!

are you interested?

nice dm me at howdy^3#6518 on discord

[merrickwccd]

& if you find me, will you know me?

                                            will you take me ? or will you fall?

closed / self para involving merrick, @thehollyxwood, @incendiarious & the uncreated but still existing in fairvale ethan jenkins, soon to be brought in  when / shortly after logan finds merrick  what / as if the world hasn’t already crashed down enough, not just one ex but two has shown up while holly’s sick.  a/n / a lot of exposition, some background on these fucking four idiots & their time apart, and a lot emo bitch hours 

she can barely hold herself together. 

she had notebooks full of trauma and rages, tears and exhaustions. insecurities and confidences, things she’d never say aloud but needed to let out. for so long now, she had locked up her high school years tight, put them away in the recesses of her mind and refused to give them more than the arbitrary thought. nostalgia was a bitch - especially in times like this. it was a liar, a fool, made everything seem like it was good, even the bad. 

a week ago, she could have easily told you that nothing would make her fall to her knees in desperation, that there was no way she would ever let logan norris wrap his arms around her. that seeing ethan jenkins surely wouldn’t make her heart jump in her chest, that her first two loves were merely that, figments of the past that had colored her relationships going forward. 

first, there had been dallas. a near replica of logan - athletic and cocky, earnest and cute when they were alone but not one to hide who he was. they had met at intramural softball, each determined to out-pitch the other. taller than the others, she had spent afternoons walking around new york city arguing abotu which team was better - the yankees or the braves - bringing him to their summer home in maine to fish and home to meet her mother in georgia. her father had liked him enough, though she knew he had a soft spot for her former boys. 

she never brought him around ethan, and logan had already disappeared from her life by then. social media ‘likes’ on posts, she’d seen him in ohio looking happy - she was determined to be the same in new york. 

but dallas had his own best friend, and his own feelings for her, and the situation had felt so painstakingly familiar - she saw the way he looked at parker, the same way logan had once looked at holly, that she pulled herself free. two years to late, perhaps, but she’d never been good at avoiding collateral damage. 

in her weakness, she’d written an email that never got sent. an i miss you, i’m sorry, can we please start over? but her sister and her were finally on good terms, she was on her last year at nyu, and for all she knew, logan was finding love of his own in ohio. 

so it sat in her drafts until she deleted it six months later, unsent. 

she channeled her emotions into a sea of stories, submitting them to publishers around the country. young adult style romances, the kind that filled hero wn bedroom back home, the kind that made the reader root for the two to get together, despite the odds. despite the casualties. 

too many of her leading men had sandy hair or striking eyes, while the other half had curls that were untamed and toothy smiles. 

asher worked with her in boston - a quiet, unassuming tech support guy who she bonded with over a love of sea monsters and cryptids. the two traveled around massachusetts, visiting salem and other haunted homes and towns, laughing and scaring one another with late nights curled up on her couch. a few almost brushes, a kiss here and there, but nothing ever spoken. 

she had always had a weakness for boys who were too smug for their own good, or too afraid of the complications to admit their feelings. if there was no jump to hurdle, what was the point? 

but asher had left before the first rumors began circling, on his way to california and a new life, and merrick had been left alone once again. wondering what it was she did wrong, another email - this time to a different address, now defunct she was sure because ethan had never been great at technology when they were constantly buzzing and sending things to one another. 

and the world had ended. and merrick had faced the truth : she loved love, maybe too much, stifling and clinging to it so tight that it continued to wreck her. there had only been one person she needed to hold onto now anyways, and together they packed the sensible sedan their parents had gifted them upon merricks’ arrival in boston, claiming the sisters needed a way to get around the city but really pleased just to see them together once again. they found colette, they found a home, and merrick pushed away reminders of home. 

even while wearing lulu’s cheer shorts as she practiced her knife throwing in the backyard. even while sleeping in logan’s hoodie, now smelling more of herself than her first boyfriend. even wiping the sweat off her brow with ethan’s old football tee, his number and name on her back. she whispered to colette or holly some nights, wondering if they could find them, but never with any real hope. 

if they were out there, what were the chances? 

and then the world ended again, in the form of holly falling ill as if she didn’t have someone to survive for. and merrick knew, logistically, that holly would fight to get free - she would. but in the meantime, she let out all the anguish and misery, all the horrors and tears she’d never shed for so many reasons, breaking down until he returned to her. 

but he wasn’t alone. 

she wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it - curls matted down with sweat, shaking hands as he curled up on the steps of the library, her voice breaking out in a low cry - ethan ! that led her to scooping him in her arms. 

if logan had kept her intact, she had done so for ethan. where she needed logan, ethan needed her. 

sometimes the comparing and contrasting hurt too much to consider. 

he was a shell of a person - hollow eyes and barely able to register her more than a whisper of her name - “merrick?” but she didn’t bother giving him a moment to breath before she pulled him into a tight hug, just as logan had her. 

maybe this was how it was supposed to be, now. 

she had made herself a promise, lost in a journal sitting in her old bedroom back in riverside. if the world had ever given her a chance again, she’d fix it. make it right. 

holly could have logan. merrick would pretend she had no feelings, that their love had died away with time, that logan was merely an old friend. a brother. holly deserved him more, holly had had him first. merrick had been selfish, merrick had taken him, merrick would live the rest of her life filling guilt at the hurt on her sister’s face when she was with him, would bury her feelings until they disappeared. 

they would have to eventually, right? 

and ethan - he deserved more, deserved better. he deserved someone much more able to give him their whole heart. but he’d accepted when she’d given him then, and if he accepted it now, she would devote herself entirely. 

no one would ever need to be any wiser. 

“mer, she’s gone,” was ethan’s mumble into her hair, and her heart seized at the implications - there was only one ‘she’ between them that she’d be wondered about, her arms wrapping tighter around him. she didn’t want to know - didn’t want him to have to say - just kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, grateful he was there, he was alive. 

“you’re okay,” she whispered, not caring what happened for the moment, what he’d been through. “you’re here now, i’ve got you.” words she’d echoed to him so long ago, and much like then he collapsed against her, weight heavy as she ran her fingers up an down his back. 

yes, this would be how it was. holly would be better, and she and logan - 

merrick had ethan. and ethan had merrick. and merrick would be grateful enough for what she did have and not once ask for more. not this time. 

not anymore. 

[silvcrlining]

elaine, self-para: after new year’s

The pounding in Elaine’s head awakens with her the morning after the masquerade ball, persists through her attempt to water it down, and follows her on the bus ride to Zuzu City.

She fidgets with one of the bows poking out of the bag in her lap, and watches as the view outside her window slowly and then all at once shifts from tree lines and mountainsides to concrete buildings that stretch out towards the sky. At some point, she begins confusing the pounding in her head with the one against her chest. Every time she visits, she feels like she should’ve done it sooner, or for longer, or more often. It never feels like enough, and something about that makes her palms sweat. She grips her bag tighter as the bus rolls to a stop.

The walk to her old house is oddly quaint; the streets are mostly barren, the strings of lights strung across buildings and the trash cans overflowing with confetti and red solo cups the only evidence that it had been filled to the brim with celebration the night prior. When she reaches the front door, she barely gets two knocks in before it flies open and she’s being pulled down to her mother’s height, engulfed in her embrace.

“Hi, Mama.” mumbles Elaine, feeling her headache subside for a moment. Amelia Carter hugs like she’s savoring every bit of warmth a person has to offer; Elaine hugs like she’s afraid they’ll disappear under her touch if she’s not careful. Her mother fuzzes over her, hands reaching up to her face and resting on her cheeks, “Oh, my baby-- how are you? Is the shop doing good? Are you doing good?” Her thumbs sweep under Elaine’s eyes knowingly, “Are you sleeping well?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Her answer is automatic, as she’s too preoccupied with leaning into her mother’s touch. She spends so much time by herself back in the valley; she forgets how nice it feels to be held.

“Ma, give her a second. She just got here.” Elias says behind them with a chuckle. Amelia steps to the side so Elias can greet his sister. He reaches up to brush away snowflakes that had yet to melt from her hair, giving her a silent smile. He just barely towers over her, and she watches his eyes briefly shine with concern, like they always do. “You good, Ellie?”

“I’m good.” Elaine returns the smile, though she wears it a bit tightly on her face. She ignores the look that he gives her, like he doesn’t entirely believe her. With a clear of her throat, she raises her bag. Even with her family, she doesn’t like having the attention on her. “I brought gifts.”

The family dinner is small, but Elaine doesn’t mind. After yesterday, she feels like she’s wasted her social battery for the entire week. She’s just happy to be with her family. Amelia pours champagne to celebrate the new year, insisting they toast using the mugs Elaine made for the two of them. Her heart feels warm; warmer than it has in months, warmer than she’s let it be in a long time. A part of her brain tugs at her, reminds her that the warmth is temporary, that it will leave the moment she returns to the valley and hides in her little home in the mountains. She forces herself to ignore it for today.

_____

Hours later, Elaine curls up beside Elias on the living room couch, blankets draped over their shoulders as they warm up by the fireplace. For a moment, she feels like they’re kids again, and the feeling is almost comforting. Aunt Nora stopped by-- Elaine learns she visits Amelia every weekend-- and her and Amelia’s laughter filters in from the kitchen.

“How’s everything in the Valley?” Elias asks, taking a sip from his beer.

“Good.” she answers, and adds when she feels her brother’s gaze on her, awaiting more, “The, uh, the shop is doing good. The house is fine. There was a, um-- there was this masquerade ball the town hosted yesterday. It was…” Chaotic. “... interesting. It was... nice, though.”

Elias hums, nods. “What about the people, your friends-- Malia still there?”

“Yeah. She’s doing good… or, well, as good as she can be.” she shrugs, “Winter can be tough for some people. I stop by her house every now and then.”

“Okay.” He nods again. Elias always asks a lot of questions. Sometimes too many. She can’t blame him, even though she wants to. He’s always been the open book of the family, while she locks herself away behind countless doors. “What about, uh-- Henry was his name, right? You two seemed to be getting along.”

Elaine bristles at that, coughs out a forced laugh and tries to veer past the subject. “God, Elias, I’m thirty-three. I feel like you’re asking me how my day at school was.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, taking another swig of his beer and setting it down on the floor. He leans back on the couch and glances at her. “I just worry about you, you know.”

“You don’t have to. I’m--”

“-- fine. I know. You’re always fine.” There’s something cold behind his words. Not necessarily biting, but like he’s talking around what he actually wants to say.

Elaine runs a hand through her hair and sighs. The tension that hangs in the air isn’t new, but it never gets less uncomfortable. It’s been like this for a while, especially with Elias. They love each other, that much is obvious, but there are always things left unsaid, invisible lines that they need to tread carefully around-- or that he feels like he needs to tread carefully around.

She just wants to change the subject.

“What about you? How are you and Diana doing?” Diana is Elias’ wife. They dated for five years before he mustered up the courage to propose; they’ve been married for three.

“Oh, we’re good. We actually just finished redecorating the house; she wants you to stop by and see it one of these days. You know, give your stamp of approval.”

Elaine smiles faintly, “I will.”

Elias opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then clamps it shut. Elaine notices, and her brows furrow, “What?”

“I, uh… I’ve been meaning to tell you…” He pauses, clears his throat. He glances at her, his words cautious. “Diana’s pregnant.”

“... Oh. Oh.” Elaine looks at him, then at the fireplace, then back at him. She stays like that for a few seconds, feeling something heavy settle in her chest-- it feels briefly like jealousy--  before realizing she should probably act a little happier. She presses a smile onto her lips. “I, uh-- that’s-- Elias, congratulations.” She wraps him up in a hug, and he returns it gently. “How far along?”

“... Three months.”

She pulls back then, the smile still stretched along her mouth. “... Oh.” Her smile lessens. “Why didn’t you… Does Mom know?”

He still regards her carefully, “Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“... October.”

“Oh.” She pulls back further now, hands settling in her lap. “... Why am I finding out about this now, then?” 

“Mom thought I shouldn’t tell you yet.”

She stiffens, “Why?”

“You know that’s a stupid question.”

A small bit of frustration flares within her, and she huffs out a small chuckle. “I’m not some… some fragile thing, Elias. I can handle your wife being pregnant.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, but…” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “... you still have wounds, Ellie. And that’s okay, and it’s understandable, but we just didn’t want to make them worse.”

“I’m not-- I’m fine.” She’s lost track of how many times she’s said that today. She moves away from him, focusing her narrowed gaze on the fireplace. “I know how to take care of myself. I don’t need you or Mom tip-toeing around my feelings or my-- my ‘wounds’.”

“You’re not fine.” Elias responds gently, running a hand down his face. “You and Mom always say the same thing, but both of you still have that same look in your eyes since Dad died.”

She clenches her jaw. They’ve barely ever talked about their father since it happened. Hell, they’ve barely ever talked about death or grief even though they all still feel it deep within them, some more than others. “What are you talking about?”

“You look at people like you’re scared they’re going to disappear the moment you look away.”

Her eyes flicker towards him, her knee bouncing repeatedly, hands wringing in her lap. He gives a faint, sad smile. “See? There it is.”

“Oh, fuck off.” The blanket around her shoulders falls gracelessly on the couch as she gets up. “I don’t get what this has to do with anything.”

“Because it’s impossible to have any kind of relationship with you when you’re so afraid of losing people all the time.” 

There’s a silence that follows his word, where she’s facing away from him, and her mind is racing, and tears are pricking at the back of her eyes. She wants to change the subject.

“I’m not afraid.” She tries in vain, and she hates how she sounds. Like a little kid swearing they’re not scared of the monster under their bed.

“Mom told me you spend most of your time in your house. That you never really mention seeing or talking or being around other people. Not even a pet or anything. It sounded like she was talking about Grandpa.”

That hits her. It’s like salt on an open wound, and she presses her lips together to not cry out from the pain. Her grandfather was a lonely man by choice. She knew that more than anyone. He pushed people away until they stopped seeing the point in trying. Her mother didn’t push people away, but she isolated herself most of the time, forgetting about the world until it came knocking on her door. Elias is probably the most well-off, but even he has his bouts of sadness, when Diana can barely get a word or two out of him. Elaine just thinks loneliness runs in the family like a disease. She doesn’t try to fight it that much anymore.

When she doesn’t say anything in response, Elias presses harder, pushes another button, “Have you cleaned out the baby room yet?”

There’s a room in Elaine’s house, half of the walls painted yellow, a crib she had begun building but never finished probably picking up dust and mold in the corner. She had gotten overly excited, begun working on it even though she was only four months along. She keeps that door locked now.

With an inhale through closed teeth, Elaine turns to Elias, her eyes still shining with un-shed tears. “I have to go.”

He realizes he’s stepped too far. “Elaine--”

“It’s getting late, and I wanna catch the last bus before it leaves.” She smiles tightly. “I missed you. It was nice seeing you.” 

“Elaine, I--”

“Tell Diana I said congratulations, by the way.” She adds, looking down for a moment as she blinks back the shine in her eyes. “I’m really happy for you guys. I hope she has a good pregnancy. I’ll try to visit your house soon, okay?”

“... Okay.”

She walks closer, pulls him into a hug that’s more like their mother’s: too tight, desperate. “I love you.”

He hugs back just as tightly, “I love you too. Take care of yourself.” 

She walks into the kitchen, says goodbye to her mother and aunt Nora, hugs them too tight. She has to actively focus on her breathing on the way to the bus stop, and most of the trip back to the Valley becomes a blur.

_____

Three days later, Elaine goes to Gabe’s shop and buys a small bouquet of forget-me-nots. Three days after that, it’s January 7th, the anniversary of her grandfather’s passing. She gets up early to make the trek down to the graveyard. The sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon by the time she gets there. She stands in front of his gravestone long enough that the snow around her feet begins to melt faintly. With a clear of her throat, she places the flowers on the ground, bringing her hands up to her mouth to warm them up. 

She always feels like she should say something, but she never does. She’s never been good with words. That was never a problem with him, though. They were both quiet, so they learned to communicate with each other through the silence. She stands there for a few more minutes, breath shuddering and forming in small clouds in front of her. The sound of bells chiming--the general store door opening-- breaks her out of her empty thoughts. Tucking her hands into the pockets of her coat, she nods at his gravestone and walks back up the hill to her house, tracing the path she had left earlier in the snow.

Ella Fitzgerald’s smooth voice echoes through the halls and rooms of her home, the music sounding through the record player in the workshop. Elaine sits on one of the stools, cheeks damp as she sips her morning coffee and hums along.

“Stars shining bright above you; night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you.’” Her grandfather would dance around the workshop with her sometimes, singing the words under his breath and denying ever doing so if she complimented his voice. “Birds singing in the sycamore tree-- dream a little dream of me.”

Then, a sudden smack against one of the workshop windows almost makes her drop her mug. Elaine stills, eyes widened, heart thumping in her chest. Trumpets tut in the background all the while, Ella singing, unbothered. Elaine stumbles to the record player and removes the needle, letting silence wash over the cool morning.

She waits a second, then two, then three. Seven seconds later, she finally hears it.

A weak chirping. 

She hurriedly slips on her boots and puts her coat back on, taking a wooden board that had been tossed into a corner (just in case-- she’s not paranoid!), and rushes outside. She finds it nestled in the snow just beneath the window: a small blue-feathered parakeet with the feathers on its left wing partially ruffled. It visibly shivers from the cold. 

The weight in Elaine’s heart is momentarily forgotten. She kneels down, settling the wooden board on the snow, and slowly moves her hands closer to the bird, careful not to spook it.

“Oh, my baby, what happened?” She coos softly. The bird initially cowers away from her, though once it feels the heat from her hand, it eventually nudges its head against her fingers. “Did you get lost?”

She manages to pick it up, cradling it in her hands and taking slow steps towards the entrance. The bird looks like it could be injured, though its wing doesn’t look broken. It chirps weakly at her, and her chest warms at the sound. “It’s okay, it’s okay-- I’ll take care of you.”

She doesn’t do Ella’s voice justice, but she continues humming the song gently as she nudges the door closed behind her, attempting to make the bird feel safe.

“When I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me...”

[theminafournier]

THE LAST STRAW // SELF PARA

Who: Mina Fournier, Jordan Clark, Louis Fournier, Ana Fournier, Dr Grove What: The day Mina lost the baby Where: Toronto, Canada / Hospital / Parent’s home. When: Friday 11th May, 2018 Mentions: Caleb Whitmore (sorry bout it!) Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Violence, Miscarriage, Mentions of Cheating, Trauma Word Count: 1,979

Today was supposed to be a happy day. Mina was officially 12 weeks pregnant which meant the chance of a miscarriage significantly dropped and it was now the right time to tell people. She knew how Jordan felt about the pregnancy about his parent’s traditional views on it but she couldn’t keep this news in any longer.  She shouldn’t have to. While he was out, she’d spent time trying to make the perfect photo. The baby scan, a chalkboard with the due date (23rd October) and a small teddy bear comforter that was ready for when they were born. She’d had a feeling from day one that it was going to be a boy. She even picked out a name. Aaron. Aaron Finlay Clark. She was so excited... enter Jordan.

It had been a long day at work for him. He was a builder and he’d been outside on a fairly cold spring day in May which usually put him in a bad mood anyway. This didn’t bode well for Mina but she tried once more to convince him. “Hey! Look at this!” She began, coming up behind him and planting a kiss on his cheek while she moved her phone in front of him. The picture was prominent.  

“It’s too early.” Jordan grumbled while he stepped out of her grip and took off his jacket. He threw it on to the back of a chair and turned back to her.

“Nope. Twelve weeks today. Come on, babe, we can’t hide it forever! The bumps starting to show and I can’t wear oversized tops forever. We have been together since we were thirteen, I’m sure your parents are going to understand all this. They love me and they’ll love our baby. Trust me.”

“It’s like you don’t even know my parents. Where’s our dinner?”  

“I do know them and I think they’re a lot more forgiving than you give them credit for.” She sighed. “I’ve not made it yet. I was finishing up editing the picture and then I was going to start it.”

“You said it would be done when I got home.”

“Time escaped me...”

“Always does.”

Mina stared at him. The arguments had been getting more frequent lately and honestly, there was a breaking point inside her. “What is your problem?”

“You! You and that damn baby of yours is the problem! I keep telling you and you keep doing nothing about it. I tell you to get rid of it and you keep it. I tell you that nothing good comes from having this kid and you don’t listen to me. You never listen to me and that’s the problem.”

“You can’t just expect me to get rid of our baby! We’ve been together for so long. It’s not like this is some kind of controversial move. I’m not some fling that you knocked up in a one-night stand! I am your girlfriend since we were thirteen.”

“I wish you were the fling. At least the others would listen to me when I told them to get rid of it.”

Mina blinked and scrunched her eyebrows. She didn’t think Jordan even knew what he just said. What he just confessed to. “I’m sorry... are you telling me there are other girls?” He remained silent and opened a beer from the fridge. “No. You don’t get to say that and then silent treatment me.” Her chest felt like it had been punched. She snatched the bottle from his hand and stepped back. “Use words, right now.”

“Fine, yes. I’ve cheated on you. I can’t believe you never saw the signs.” He snatched the beer back out of her hand and took a long drink. “I cheated on you years ago. Megan. Lucy. Renee. Remember them people you called friends? They fucking loved me and would do anything for me. I said jump, they said how high. They would have got rid of a baby like it was nothing.” He stayed close and keep his eyes locked on hers. Tears forming in her eyes. “And you know what? I stopped. I thought ‘you know what? I got something pretty good at home’, I’ll stop. Then this happened and god, I found the first girl at the bar and fucked up in the toilets. All those beers with the boys? Excuses that you didn’t see in that brain of yours.” He poked her head. “But, I don’t think I’m the only one. I think that kid isn’t even mine.”

“Are you serious right now? You just confessed to cheating on me for so long with so many people and then you accuse me of cheating? Who in the hell would I have even slept with?”

“Caleb.”

“You and I both know we haven’t seen him in, God, eight months? Nine months?”

“I haven’t seen him in that long. You? I don’t know.”

“Jordan, you made me sign in to my phone and show you all of them texts. You are so fucking paranoid! You read every text and check every call I ever make to make sure I’m not doing something that you apparently kept doing to me! I have never slept with Caleb! I wouldn’t ever do that to you... but clearly you can.”

“How am I supposed to not be paranoid when he was openly flirting with you? How everyone flirts with you? You’re mine!”

“I was always yours but clearly, so were other girls. What the fuck Jordan! That’s so... That’s so fucked up!” The brunette let out a loud groan and walked away from him, running her fingers through her hair with tears running down her cheeks. “I trusted you. I loved you. But this? I can’t forgive this. I can’t forgive my entire relationship being a lie built on infidelity. I sacrificed so much for you. I could have gone to college and done something more than social media jobs. I didn’t leave because you didn’t want me to leave. I stayed for you and this is how you repay me? Fuck you, Jordan!” Mina stormed in to the bedroom and slammed the door, clear she didn’t want to see him right now. Jordan instead downed his drink and got another. Mina screamed in to pillow to try and release some of the stress boiling beneath her skin. She pulled her travel bag from under the bed and began to pack things. Clothes. Toothbrush. Hair brush. Makeup. Not everything but enough to see her for a few days. She could be here right now. She couldn’t even look at him.  She’d texted her dad to come and pick her up. Once she had enough stuff, she walked back in to the living room with Jordan who was now two and a half beers deep.  

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”  

“I'm going to my parents – not that you deserve to know where I go.” Her eyes never looked at him just heading towards the door.  

“No you’re not.” He grabbed the bag out of her hand and threw it to the couch.  

“Jordan!”

“You’re not leaving me. You don’t get to leave me.” His hands grabbed her by her wrists and pushed her up against the wall. She’d never known him to get physical with her like this. Argumentative, sure. This wasn’t normal. “I’m in control here, not you, so you’re going to listen to me. Got it?” His voice was more like a growl. A angry and harsh growl.  

“Jordan, you’re hurting me.”

This only tightened the grip on her wrists when she pointed it out. “You drove me to cheating on you! You being such a god damn perfectionist. I can’t ever live up to those damn expectations of romantic movies you watch. You’re the problem here. You want this stupid fantasy of a kid and a marriage and a house with a garden. I can’t give you them but you know what I can do? Give a girl an orgasm. Isn’t that enough?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She tried to fight back and push back to try and get him off of her but this only prompted him to throw her on to the couch he had previously thrown the bag on to and climbing on top of her to hold her down.  

“You’re such a damn perfectionist! You make me feel like I’m not good enough and you know what? You’re the one who isn’t good enough. You’re not good enough for me.” His hands grabbed at her throat to hold her down but in a bid to escape, Mina kicked him right in the balls and managed to push him off of her. She grabbed her bag quick and made it to the door to start making her way down the stairs to escape the apartment building but he had got back up and grabbed her by the shoulder and again, pinned her to the wall at the top of the stairs. Her bag dropped down the stairs.

“Jordan, this isn’t you. Please, just let me go!” She screamed out loud, maybe a neighbor would hear and help her. A cold laugh escaped him. “Fine.” He pull her again but this time, it ended with a push on her back. Head first down the stairs. Mina remembered hitting her front against a stair corner and then her head hitting the very last step but knock her out. Darkness.

~~

Mina’s eyes were focused on the dripping tap in the corner of the room. There was a muffled sound of the doctor talking. She could feel her dad holding her left hand and her mum’s presence next to her. She could sense that her mum was crying but all she did was stare at this tap. Drip. Drip. Drip.  

“Do you understand, Miss Fournier?” The doctor asked which drew her attention back to him. He came in to focus but she just stared at him for a long moment.  

“The baby’s gone.” She answered in a flat voice. Her voice sounded numb but every fiber of her being beneath her skin was clawing at itself. Her hand still rested on the smallest bump as if something was there but there was nothing but a pit of emptiness inside her where the space of a baby once was. Her fingers clenched in to material of her slightly blooded shirt.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” That was the next thing she heard in between the gaps of medical mumbo-jumbo before he took his leave. Her parents pulled her in to their arms but Mina just stayed staring straight forward. He got what he wanted. That’s all she could think. He wanted the baby gone and now it was. Her mum was just crying. Her dad stayed silent but there was a pain in his eyes that he was trying not to show. He always was the strong type and that’s probably why Mina didn’t react at first.  

“You should’ve told the police everything. You should have charged him! He took your baby away.” Her mum was angrier at the situation than Mina was. Mina just felt tired and numb. She didn’t know how to comprehend her grief for something she could never hold in her hand.  

Her parents took her back home – their home – and left her in her own bedroom where she lay on her bed. Her arms were wrapped around the bump until she finally fell asleep from the exhaustion of the day. She didn’t remember her nightmare. She didn’t know what it was. Whether it was a recreation of what happened. Whether it was a reminder of the loss. All she remembered was waking up screaming and crying. Her parents were with her in seconds and holding her while she cried. This happened for four consecutive nights. Screaming and crying. Screaming and crying.  

[retiredhq]

Hello everyone! Yesterday I asked if any of you were interested in seeing a sample application to give you an idea of what I am looking for in the responses to the sections of the app and many of you said yes. So I have placed under the cut a mock application for the character I will be playing: Monarch. If you have any further questions don’t hesitate to ask! I hope this is helpful! 

STATS

Chosen skeleton: Monarch

Full Name: Elizabeth Mitchell

Age: 41

Gender: Cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Faceclaim: Carla Gugino, Keri Russel 

HEADCANONS

Beth was raised by her mother. They lived in a small trailer in Ankeytown, Ohio. For as long as Beth can remember it was just her, her mother, and a series of bums. Beth never knew what it was like to have a father or a stable relationship with a parent. A few of the men her mom dated tried to play as a father figure, but Beth’s mother thought that was a step too far and would often call off relationships once the men got too familiar. It was the ones that were rude and treated Beth more like a dog that were the ones who tended to stick around. Beth doesn’t know if her mother liked them more or if it was just harder to get rid of them. 

Beth’s mom imposed a lot of her dreams onto Beth. Beth was a pretty and vibrant young lady, but very shy and self-conscious. Beth mom forced her into uncomfortable social situations and showed her off like a prized poodle. Her mother made her sign up for the cheerleading team and vie for the role of head cheerleader. Beth had no interest in the sport but knew better than to argue or resist her mother’s wishes. So Beth worked tirelessly to maintain decent grades while training to be a flier for the cheer team. It was never enough to satisfy her mother, who constantly picked apart Beth’s performance, appearance, and presentation. Phrases like ‘if only you cared enough to brush your hair the boys might ask you out’ were common for Beth to hear. 

During high school, Beth fell in love with the works of Shakespeare and has a teacher which encouraged her passion. He invited her to be a part of the school production of Midsummer’s Night Dream but it conflicted with her cheer practice so she declined. But the thought of acting captivated her. Beth always wanted to be anyone but herself. So when she graduated college she left her small town and her toxic mother behind and moved to Los Angeles for what she thought would be a time of sunshine and self-fulfillment. 

For two years Elizabeth lived in L.A. working as a waitress and going to auditions. She used all of her tip money to pay for an acting coach and never got a callback. But in 1982 she heard of an audition for a non-traditional acting role for the U.S. government. As a last-ditch effort, she auditioned for a role called ‘Babydoll’. She didn’t get the part but she got the callback. Her sweet face and overexaggerated expressions were just what they were looking for. She was given the role of Monarch and trained for a year to fight and operate the mechanical wings. 

In 1986 while on a mission, Beth nearly died. She was using the wingsuit as they fought the Bugmen from Mars and one of them attacked her midair and pulled out some of the wires of her wings before she was able to knock them off. She didn’t realize that they’d done damage to her equipment so she carried on. While about four hundred feet up in the air, surveying the scene, her wings glitched and folded in, causing her to plummet. She fell, screaming and helpless for over three hundred feet. Fortunately, Starscreech was able to catch her before she hit the ground but that moment has made her anxious to fly too high or too far from Starscreech since. 

When Exemplar disbanded Beth was told by the bureau to avoid a career that would put her in the public eye. Because she’d signed a nondisclosure agreement that kept her silent on all things Exemplar, she knew it would be best to try and lead a life where she pretended she wasn’t Monarch instead of trying to tiptoe around questions. She got a job working for Mary Kay as a door to door saleswoman. She would still get prying questions from housewives or be asked to pose for photos. But it was clear most people pitied her and her downfall more than they were genuinely excited to see her. But her boss was very excited to have a former celebrity as the unofficial face of the company. 

After the team disbanded Beth made a valiant effort to keep up with the others. She was restricted from seeing Gecko, Price, or The Creature but she was able to track down some of the other members. Those who chose to live on the east coast were easiest for her to visit. She would stop by about once a year and bring over a casserole (she’s not a very good cook so these were often secretly trashed by all except Tallahassee). She didn’t want anyone to feel too lonely or get lost in disbelief. Some of them were having trouble with denial after the team ended because of how dramatic the life change was. Beth just wanted to make sure everyone was okay. 

Most nights after missions Beth would offer to cook dinner for the team. But the team learned quickly that Beth is a terrible cook and when she made food. Somehow it tasted burnt while being undercooked. So after she offered the team would exchange nervous glances. To protect her feelings one of them would say ‘We already worked tonight you shouldn’t have to work more! Let’s get pizza!’  and they’d order pizza. They ate enough pizza that they all ended up sick of it by the time the team disbanded but it was better than eating her cooking or telling her the truth. 

(Not related to Beth but I think that the pizza guys who brought food to the Exemplar HQ had a running competition to see who could stay at HG the longest before a.) Being scared off by The Creature b.) Being escorted out by security or c.) Being mildly physically assaulted by Tallahassee). 

PLOTS

Most importantly I’d like her relationship with Babydoll to heal. It’s really Beth’s fault that there has been so much bad blood. Beth was projecting her insecurities that she learned from her mother. I want Beth to apologize to Babydoll and maybe even have Babydoll refuse to accept the apology because it’s twenty years too late. But it would be wonderful for there to be a moment when Beth saves Babydoll’s life and asks for forgiveness again and Babydoll starts to come around. Beth needs to be supportive and really prove that she has learned and changed. I want to see them turn into a healthy and loving friendship where they build each other up and kick ass together. 

I also want there to be a scene where Beth takes charge. She has never really aspired to leadership because she never believed she was worth listening to. But she’s smart and considerate and she knows her team very well. So if there’s a part where Captain Kick and Price are unavailable I think it would be great to see Beth step up to the plate. Even if it’s just working to build a plan with one other person I want Beth to be sure of her idea. 

I want Beth to get mortally injured at some point. As the healer of the team and the one who usually transports them to safety I would love to have her be incapacitated and in need of someone to rescue her. I want to see that role reversal and how the team deals with having their healer be on the brink of death. 

The general arc for her I see is one where she learns to love herself and accept that there is no such thing as second best. She must learn to strive to be the best version of herself. 

THEME SONG

Kate Bush’s - Running up that Hill 

I’m going to ignore the original intention of the lyrics and rework them to suit my purposes. To me, the song Running up that Hill embodies Beth’s relationship with the team, especially Babydoll. In many ways, Beth wishes she was anyone but herself. She wishes she was as pretty, charming, and captivating as Babydoll and would give anything to take over that role. But Beth is also very self-sacrificing and when she sees her team in danger she flies directly into the line of fire. She would risk her own life to protect them and sometimes that means diving in front of an attack and taking the blow. I especially think the line “Is there so much hate for the ones we love?” resonates with her character because she loves the team like family but sometimes she hates them and how they make her feel (inferior, frustrated, scared, etc). Additionally, the general sound and vibe of the song match the sort of dark, melancholic and thoughtful, yet groovy vibe that I get from Elizabeth. 

PARA SAMPLE

A shaking breath drawn in. She rubbed the plastic handle of her Mary Kay case, half-surprised it wasn’t worn down by now. The ritual of quelling her anxious by running her thumb over the ridge on top of the handle was one she performed at every house she stopped at. This one, painted pastel blue with a well-groomed front lawn was the perfect target. There were two types of houses she found success at: those with perfect lawns and those with nothing but a patch of dirt. Women who had spare money to spend and women who liked to look like they did. Anyone with practical landscaping wouldn’t have time for her or her long-winded, fake smile filled speech. 

Then the exhale. Moving fast enough that her anxiety could not catch up to stop her, she extended her well-manicured forefinger and pressed the doorbell. She could hear the chime echo throughout the house as the buzzing in her chest seeped upwards until her jaw clenched. She heard the definitive click-clack of heels on a tile floor and then the door swung open. Raising her head up quickly and donning a bright smile, she put on the mask over ever-cheerful feminine dignity and in a sing-song voice spoke, “Hi, I’m Lizzie Mitchell and I’m here on behalf of Mary Kay!” 

ANYTHING ELSE

Here’s an edit I made for her!

[alyricalberry]

Building Bridges || Sebchel

Who: @alyricalberry & @bismythe 

When: October 16, 2018

Where: NYADA, outside Florence Farr

What: Rachel runs into Sebastian outside of her classes and they get to talking.

Warnings: None

Sebastian sits outside of Florence Farr, looking effortlessly cool in an all-black ensemble that helps him appear A) subtle and B) seductive. Subtlety is the important thing for a change. He's been hogging this bench for the past hour in this exact spot (despite another pair of students pointedly edging closer and closer until leaving in a huff, score Sebastian) absolutely crushing Little Alchemy on his phone and keeping a watch at the main door to the building. Any minute Rachel Barbra Berry should emerge, and Sebastian will be ready. Of course there are multiple doors to the building, but after a few promising conversations with classmates and random students, he's fairly certain he's in the right place to catch her after whatever she does there on the weekends. Personally, Sebastian doesn't think it's any of his business when a Bloodline family produces a "lost child" to bring into the fold, but unfortunately hers is not just any family. SmytheCo. has been steadily crushing the Corcoran family since before Sebastian was born and his father - his father, a troglodyte who barely comprehends the existence of multiple social media platforms -- texted him to keep an eye on the situation, so that's what he's going to do. Sebastian pauses his game play long enough for a full body stretch and a less covert glance of his surroundings. Not seeing -- or hearing, he's been assured he'll hear her long before he sees her -- Rachel, he snaps his Xtra Patience Infused gum between his molars and settles in for another round of waiting.

Rachel had spent her Saturday mostly as she normally did, which was by rehearsing in one if the Florence Farr study rooms. It had been a tradition of hers since she’d started at NYADA. Every Saturday, two hours if vocal rehearsal followed by dance practice after lunch. It was true that her dance practice bad fallen to the wayside lately, and that was mostly because she’d developed a new habit, which consisted mostly of pacing in front of Shelby Corcoran’s office doors. Sometimes Rachel almost got the courage to knock on the door to see if the woman—her mother—would speak to her. But Rachel knew it was a fruitless endeavour. Whenever Rachel tried to speak to Shelby after a class, she would deftly sweep away, pretending she hadn’t heard her. It was clear to Rachel Shelby had no intention of ever being more than her professor, but that still didn’t stop Rachel from wanting it. She was getting to know her grandparents, which was wonderful, but there were questions she had that only Shelby could answer, like questions about her father. But Rachel could never get past that wall Shelby had put up between them. And so after having spent near an hour pacing the hall outside Shelby’s office, Rachel gave up, like she usually did, knowing she would probably never have the courage to try to talk to her mother. And today, for some reason, the thought made her more upset than usual. She quickly walked out of Florence Farr and collapsed in the nearest bench she could find, not noticing the student dressed in all black already occupying half of it. She buried her face in her hands and let out a long sigh, trying to shake off the latest wave of disappointment at how her life was turning out.

Sebastian suppresses his instinctive reaction to seeing a person in emotional distress, which is usually telling them to take that shit elsewhere. Instead he pauses his game and calls upon the same mantra he's been using for years: Fake it 'til you make it. "Hey, uh," he says softly, just enough to catch her attention, "are you okay? Normally, I wouldn't ask but with everything going on," he trails off, looking away. Sebastian can be charming when he wants to be; put him with a group of people at a party, and they'll be MagicMorph in his hands before the night is over. Sebastian just needs an opening and if Feelings are his way in, then that's just what he's going to have to do.

Rachel jumped when she heard someone speak to her. She looked up and vaguely recognized him from Tumblr, and from Blaine talking about him. “Um, hi. You’re Sebastian, right?” She asked. She pushed her hair behind her ears and sat up straighter. “I’m fine, really. Some days are just a little tougher than others with everything going on, you know with finding out I’m a secret Bloodline, and my biological mother having absolutely no interest in talking to me. It’s... a lot,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Sorry, I don’t mean to unload all this on you, I know we barely know each other,” she added, wiping discreetly at her eyes.

Sebastian blinks. "Yeah, no, that sounds like a lot," he replies, to give himself time to re-evalute his strategy. Well. That was easier than he thought it would be. He expected a little hesitation before he could tease out the problem, but this is even better. "It's fine, really," Sebastian says, and realizes he might sound too eager. He clears his throat. Slow and easy does it, Sebastian. He repeats, in a calmer fashion, "It's fine, really. Sometimes people find it easier to talk to strangers to get an outside perspective." He shrugs, opening his messenger-style bag to retrieve his toiletries bag. He takes out his Magic Refresher Towel -- guaranteed to remove signs of tears without messing up her make up -- and hands it to her. "Nice to meet you. It's Rachel, right? We're, uh, mutuals on tumblr or something?" As if he doesn't know that already. "I'm sorry she doesn't want to talk to you. I'm sure you have important questions for her. If you don't mind me asking," Sebastian begins slowly, "if she won't talk to you, how did you find out?"

Rachel couldn't help but smile at Sebastian's sympathizing with her. It was nice having someone who would just listen to her. Even if he was a stranger. She accepted the towel from her and gently dabbed her eyes. "Thank you, and yes, that's me. You're friends with Blaine, right? He used to live in the room beside mine in Zephyrus, before he randomly moved to Notos. I still don't know what that's about," she told him. She pondered answering his question for a second. He wasn't the only student who'd ask her about all the drama that had unfolded in her life lately. But Santana's video was floating around somewhere so what was the point in hiding it. "Well, my grandparents—Caroline and Jacob Corcoran, I don't know if you've heard of them?—they found out about me somehow and had me watched by a bodyguard for a while before they decided to have him very publicly announce that I was the long lost Corcoran heir. That was a fun day," she said, somewhat bitterly. "Anyways, they're the ones I have contact with. Ms. Corcoran isn't very interested in having a relationship with her daughter, apparently. But that's okay. At least I have my grandparents, right?"

"Of a sort," Sebastian replies. Even though there really isn't much to say, he figures it can't hurt to give her some extra information. "I moved around a lot as a kid, so we haven't had a chance to catch up. Notos is located in the heart of campus and is a popular place for NYADA students to socialize, study, dine, and then tuck away high into the clouds for rest. I mean," -- is he quoting the brochure? He's quoting the brochure -- "It's also pretty secure from what I understand. Not the worst move to make." He nods thoughtfully. "One of the Corcorans usually attend one of the events hosted by my family, but they're pretty attached to their reclusive mystique. I'm surprised they decided to announce it so publicly. I couldn't begin to understand how you feel." No, really, Sebastian would be mortified to find out he was a Corcoran, but that's because he's already a Smythe. A downgrade like that? No, thanks. "At least you have your grandparents," Sebastian agrees, thinking it over. So her grandparents are onboard but their daughter isn't? Interesting. "Maybe their daughter just needs time to come around. You said you were adopted, right? If your grandparents are the ones who approached you, then maybe she just needs time to get over the shock of your... introduction into Bloodline Society the same way you do. And if not? Well, what can you do? Her loss."

"I get that it's just... it doesn't seem very Blaine-like for him to have up and moved like that. He and his roommate really got along. I just can't help but feel like something's up," Rachel explained, but decided to let the subject drop. She listened to Sebastian speak and couldn't help but smile. It was nice to have someone sympathize with her and actually understand what she was going through. "I know that. I know it's her loss. It still hurts, you know? Like I'm being completely rejected by my own mother," she told him. "But I am grateful to have my grandparents, at least. They've been so nice. I take it you don't really know much about them? No one else really seems to either. Maybe that's why they wanted to make it so public, to start being seen more in Bloodline society? I don't even know. I'm still very new to all this Bloodline stuff," she chuckled. "Anyways, I'm sorry to be dumping all this on you. Thank you for listening, Sebastian. I really do appreciate it."

Sebastian shrugs because what he does and does not think about Blaine Anderson is a para for another time. "You should trust your intuition," he says, without much feeling. That's like advise 101, right? He somehow keeps his expression sympathetic as he listens to Rachel pouring her heart out. Hopefully this isn't going to be a regular thing. "The Corcorans are pretty reclusive, so what I know is courtesy of the Bloodline Magic Gloryvine." He pretends to think for a moment, hoping enough time has passed for him the idea to seem spur of the moment instead of as a the manipulation for permanent openings for future conversations that it is. "Hey, I am the master of useless genealogy trivia- I can't really help with your mom, but if you need any advice on navigating all of the 'Bloodline stuff,' I'm happy to provide assistance. We bloodlines have to stick together, right?" he says, easing himself a little closer.

Rachel couldn't help but smile at Sebastian's words. "Thank you, Sebastian. That's actually really kind of you to offer," she said. She leaned into him when he scooted closer. "I think that would be great. God knows I could use the help," she added with a chuckle. "Give me your phone. I'll give you my number and we can meet up for coffee or something? I have to be going to my next class..."

[gojaimas]

Chapter 38 Comments

public utility: “This is the Ben/Gwen/Lucy threesome fic that Gojaimas refered to: [insert link here]. Gojaimas, you're a pervy LOL”

Also no, that isn’t the one I was talking about. It was a Ben/Lucy thing, not a threesome thing. And jeez, that fic had a lot of spelling errors. I know it’s just porn, but take a little pride in your work for god’s sake. I mean, I didn’t read it. I mean, it was for research I swear. I mean, oh boy...

Guest: “Reading your responses is as engaging as a new chapter. Creating a fanbase is pretty crucial because it can end up being cancer sometimes but yours seem to be awesome, going beyond just Bwen and you deserve it all. Are your social circles aware of your little E-fame or are you too embarrassed to reveal it to em?”

Thank you! Yeah, I’ve been lucky so far with my small fanbase. I haven’t told anyone I’ve been writing this fanfiction, although I do have one friend who knows I ship Ben and Gwen.

Guest: “Lucy having feelings for Gwen is where I kinda can’t put my finger across. I know Gwen doesn’t know or think much about Lucy’s sexuality since her mind is now haunted by Ben and you even mentioned “she vaguely notices it” in one of those our responses. The issue for me here is, you’ve set up Lucy teasing Ben slowly blooming into becoming the real deal from the start, you took 30 chapters for Gwen to come to terms with her feelings and about 15-20 for them to become best friends in the first place. Lucy and Gwen’s friendship always had the sisterly vibe to it and if there was some sort of sexual tension between them then I could buy it but you did it brilliantly with Ben and Lucy and gave the Bency fandom more exposure which I was waiting forever for while simultaneously topping the game of the Bwen fanbase. The first romantic tease I could sense was when Lucy was lying on Gwen’s shoulder on the beach and she jokingly said something along the lines of “you know, with this sunset, this is actually kind of romantic” which lead Gwen to push her off leaving Lucy giggling in the ground and that gained a giggles from me too but those didn’t seem legitimate to me. I mean girls call each other “babe” all the time, compliment each other’s looks, kiss each other on the cheeks, they even grope breasts in anime often but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re into girls. Lucy being that Friend you can share certain things with and always count on even though they can annoy the hell out of you is what seemed liked the bond Lucy and Gwen had. Her now developing feelings for her out of the blue seems unconvincing”

I think the problem you’re having is you’re seeing Lucy’s teasing of Ben differenly than her teasing of Gwen, and you shouldn’t be. Yes, I know girls compliment each other’s looks and whatnot without necessarily being into girls. That’s why Gwen doesn’t really think anything of it and why I didn’t expect my readers to think anything of it either until I let them hear some of Lucy’s thoughts. But now we’ve already heard Lucy say that just because she’s messing with people doesn’t mean she isn’t also serious. If you can accept that her teasing Ben was her way of expressing her growing feelings for him while concealing how serious she was, why can’t you accept that she was doing the same to Gwen? When you think of it that way, it doesn’t seem so out of the blue. I was hoping for it to be somewhat of a surprise, especially since I didn’t think her liking Ben would be surprising to anyone, but I guess I didn’t do that great a job of it.

Gwen and Lucy definitely have that sisterly, “you can tell me anything,” best friend type of relationship right now, and Lucy finds that very important. She’s actually quite afraid of losing that, which is one of the reasons she’s still keeping her feelings a secret. But just because she cares for her one way doesn’t mean she can’t also care for her another way.

Anyway, thanks for sharing your criticism. I can’t exactly go back and sprinkle in more hints for it now, but I hope my explanation will at least help a little.

Robotic Lizard: “Z U C C” Robotic Lizard: “ing*” Robotic Lizard: “ZUCCing*”

Should this mean something to me? Is this a Mark Zuckerberg joke?

Guest: “The title “I wanted what I saw that day” to me as a reader refers to an update.”

Well then I have some good news for you.

Guest: “Despacito Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito Deja que te diga cosas al oído Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo Despacito Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (sube, sube, sube) (Sube, sube)”

Guest: “It’s intriguing that Gwen is self concisious about her butt considering a certain episode known as “Forge of Creation” in Ultimate Alien. They run into ten 10 year old Ben through a timeloop or something and as you can tell, 10 years old can be hard to handle. Even 15 Ben acknowledges it and asks “did I used to be this obnoxious?” to which Gwen’s “you have no idea”. At one point, he tries to annoy Gwen by pointing out her butt is huge and the context of the way he said it was an insult although I’d take that as a compliment. Cartoon Network would censor the shit out of it if was aired now”

Hahaha, yeah, I’m familiar with that scene. It was a minor inspiration for Gwen having a complex about that.

Guest: “Gojaimas all I gotta say is gozaimasu”

Arigatou!

Guest: “Since they’re supposed to be 14 now and that means on the transition of puberty, you said we should imagine Ben talking with his Yuri lowethal’s voice then does that mean we gotta imagine Gwen having longer hair, a pony tail? Might sound a little pervy with the way I put it but with a more mature body and most importantly, should we imagine her voice associated with Ashley Johnson instead of Meagan Smith? Meagan Smith was a classic but Ashley did great voice work as Gwen in AF and the sequels, she’s still smart but she’s more calm and composed instead of can’t helping herself from getting aggressive because Ben know exactly how to spruk her nerves and Meagan Smith portrayed that perfectly”

Gwen’s hair is a little bit longer now, but not as long as it was in the sequel series and she still keeps it in the same style, not in a ponytail. Her body has matured more by now, and so has Ben’s. And you should be imagining her with her Ashley Johnson voice, which I pointed out by Lucy saying she sounds just like Ellie from The Last of Us. I still love Meagan Smith’s voice and I think it’s perfect for preteen Gwen, but I think Ashley Johnson’s voice is great as well and it fits better for teenage Gwen.

Guest: “Speaking of voice actor, Troy Baker is the real MVP right up there with Nolan North with voicing Joel and them both giving life to the Drake brothers in Uncharted. I mean, hell, his young Joker voice in Arkham Origins and in Asassult of Arkham (The animated suicide squad movie, still better than the live action one) is the closest resemblance I could see to Mark Hamill’s iconic established voice.”

Oh absolutely, those two are real pros. Although my favorite male voice actor is still probably Dee Bradley Baker. His range is incredible and I got to meet him at Blizzcon a few years ago. He’s a really great guy.

Guest: “Everytime Gwen puked or gagged which she normally would when she saw Ben mockingly but this time because she’s in love with him, all I could think about was the ROBLOX death sound. Yeah please pull a bullet in my mouth. OOF”

That’s rough, buddy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f49ELvryhao

Guest: “Man this new few chapter made me feelin’ like waiting for Infinity War. A part of me loves Marvel and a part of me wants to disintegrate them for killing off our favourite characters, this isn’t a spoiler, we all were expecting someone to die while walking in but all good things come to an end.”

> implying superhero deaths are ever permanent

Guest: “This better end well, in quality,which I’m confident it will so far by your writing skill analysis not necessarily in favour of the characters but I can’t help but say if poor Gwen or Lucy ends up in the doghouse, Gojaimas, I’ll have you know that my dad owns Microsoft so he can ban your club penguin account.”

Joke’s on you. I’ve been banned from Club Penguin since 2012.

[thefranklinoutdoor]

Don't You Stop, We Won't Stop

EC Brown Lise Baggesen Rodrigo Lara Zendejas Sarah Beth Woods Felicia Holman

Opening reception: Saturday, February 15 from 7-10 pm

From February 15 to April 25, 2020

“Hot topic is the way that we rhyme Hot topic is the way that we rhyme One step behind the drum style One step behind the drum style Carol Rama and Eleanor Antin Yoko Ono and Carolee Schneeman You're getting old, that's what they'll say, but Don't give a damn I'm listening anyway Stop, don't you stop I can't live if you stop Don't you stop Gretchen Phillips and Cibo Matto Leslie Feinberg and Faith Ringgold Mr. Lady, Laura Cottingham Mab Segrest and The Butchies, man Don't stop Don't you stop We won't stop Don't you stop So many roads and so much opinion So much shit to give in, give in to So many rules and so much opinion So much bullshit but we won't give in Stop, we won't stop Don't you stop I can't live if you stop Tammy Rae Carland and Sleater-Kinney Vivienne Dick…”

- Lyrics from Hot Topic by Le Tigre, 1999

EC Brown

My wife Catie's annual Krampusnacht event last December included a holiday market, and I presented a bin of paintings on chipboard that were folded like heavy 45 sleeves—with mulch+foliage+ploymer record shapes that became too encrusted to fit inside. The images invented an old psychedelic Krampus underground—militant and Luciferian. Dolly appeared as a surprise digression in the wee hours before the deadline.

For the past seven years of Krampusnacht, I have sidestepped the European relics in favor of thoughts about American undercurrents—rowdy, sexual, heretical, and perilously savage. But I like to imagine that the deeper magma is something propulsive and generative, rather than malignantly atavistic. An inevitable rebellion against civilized living.

With Edra's prodding, I'm pursuing the Dolly tangent: imagining a history in which the liftoff of her solo career was profoundly controversial—to the point that an enclave of armed male consorts developed around her. Perhaps her audience had detected a Luciferian bent in her, that would need time to transition to a more acceptable yet radical Christianity.

EC Brown: I prefer a collision of illustrative image-making that begs attention to narratives, and physical formats that shift these works into roles as implements or tactical objects addressing spaces and situations. Images have been a tempered fever-dream drawing from 1960s–70s aesthetics, pop occultism, science fiction, Modernist architecture, biomimetics, industrial photography and observational cinema. Often they are absurdist historical revisions.

Since 2005, I have mostly operated in Chicago's domestic artspaces. I co-organized Floor Length and Tux (2009–2014, with Catie Olson) and COMA (2006–2008, with Annika Seitz). I periodically organize a roving series entitled ASCII (2011–present). Since 2015, I have been conducting a discreet series out of my home entitled Tascam.

Lise Haller Baggesen

Interpersonal relationships, intergenerational and intersectional eco- and cyber- and xeno- feminism, reproductive justice, therapeutic aesthetics, color field painting, sci-fi tie-dye, hippie modernism, bio-punk, grunge, glam, and disco, are some of the vernaculars that inform my body of work. Since graduating in 2013 from SAIC's department of Visual and Critical Studies, this organic body has manifested itself in a hybrid and polydisciplinamorous practice, including writing, audio-visual installations, textile-, and sartorial works. 

Mother is a noun and a verb; I regard my practice as a sourdough, a gestation of material, out of which individual works, texts, and shows are wrought, while the mother remains, active.

Lise Haller Baggesen is a Danish born, Amsterdam raised, Chicago based, interdisciplinary artist. Her hybrid practice includes writing, installation, performative, sartorial and textile-based work. She is the author of Mothernism, and exhibits internationally, most recently with the multimedia show HATORADE RETROGRADE: THE MUSICAL, which premiered at SoEx in San Francisco in 2019 and will travel to G400 in Chicago in 2020

Rodrigo Lara Zendejas

I create memorials—fragmented, mischievous, and imperfect realities that reflect both a formal

break from traditional shape, while presenting an assemblage version of our collective social and political thoughts, concerns, and hopes. Although I was trained in the traditions of classical art, my pieces now are not always clean. Or finished. Or beautiful. My work holds the memory of an intimate process of becoming. In some bodies of work, I present obvious nooks and gashes, broad, quick strokes, and secretive, featherlike fingerprints, all of which aided in the modeling of the clay during the process of bringing the subject to life. It is this visceral and intimate approach to materials and form that drive my subjects of memory and memorialization through all of my works.

When considering the human form and its relationship to memorialization, immediate thoughts of bronze statues at historical sites come to mind. My fascination, however, is in the way that memory—with its inherent, ever-changing fluidity—disrupts our ability to fully or truthfully freeze, or memorialize people, moments, or perspectives in history. Instead, it is our momentary glimpses of memory and hindsight that drive how we understand the present.

As a Mexican immigrant to the United States, my works often rely on my own fragmented memories and stories of home, my direct experiences with fervent Catholicism, and other’s heroic (yet common) anecdotes of border crossing and acclimating to living in America. However, while my memories and relationships to patriotism, politics, my background, and my longing for the familiar certainly influence my work, it is my interest in the process, the poetics of the materials, and the action of sculpting that motivate my continued practice.

Born in Mexico in 1981, Rodrigo Lara Zendejas received a MFA from School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC) in 2013. And his BFA from the Universidad de Guanajuato in Mexico in 2003. He has received several awards including: Proyectos Especiales FONCA (Fondo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes) Mexico City; Emerging Artist Grant, Joan Mitchell Foundation, New York City; Jóvenes Creadores, FONCA, Mexico City; Extraordinary Abilities Visa, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services; Artist’s Grant, Vermont Studio Art Center; James Nelson Raymond Fellowship, 2013 SAIC Fellowship Competition; PECDA Estudios en el extranjero,Instituto Queretano de la Cultura y las Artes; the International Graduate Scholarship, SAIC; and the John W. Kurtich Travel Scholarship, SAIC Berlin/Kassel, Germany; among others. He won the first price in sculpture at the National Award for Visual Arts in Mexico in 2010. Lara held solo exhibitions at institutions such as the Museum of Modern Art in the state of Mexico, Hyde Park Art Center in Chicago, the National Museum of Mexican Art in Chicago, Kruger Gallery in Marfa, Texas, among others. He has been in such residencies as the Vermont Studio Center, ACRE, Ragdale, Cross Currents: Cultural Exchange, Mana Miami, and Rogers Art Loft. Currently, Lara lives and works in Chicago.

Flatscreen

Sarah Beth Woods

Hear the Glow of Electric Lights is a multifaceted project that centers around a black and white, 16mm reversal film, which investigates the choreographed performances of 1960s American pop music groups featuring girls and young women. During the summer of 2017, Sarah Beth Woods formed The Rhinettes, a conceptual girl group based out of Prosser High School on the West side of Chicago. Referencing the Supreme’s first nationally televised appearance and Cholly Atkins' choreography, the work reveals the inscription of sound on the body and other material surfaces.

Girl group: (L-R) Alexis Strowder, Yahkirah Beard, Anya Jenkins Cinematography: Brian VandenBos Choreography: Courtney Bradshaw Costumes: Ann Heggans, Sarah Beth Woods

Sarah Beth Woods is a Chicago-based multidisciplinary artist. Woods’ background as a painter and critical cultural worker has led to an interest in the aesthetics and political implications of modern surfaces and the body, specifically skin and hair, saturated color and shine. Cultural influences derived from formative years spent on the Southwest side of Chicago continue to manifest in the content and aesthetics of Woods’ work, specifically black material culture and women’s conceptual spaces as sites of possibility and transformation.

Activation

Felicia Holman

"Originally created as a commissioned response to Edra Soto’s 2018 exhibition ‘Open 24 Hours’, interdisciplinary artist Felicia Holman presents a reprise of her solo performance—Wassup w/that ‘YAC?! (WWTY). As both a cognac enthusiast and a native of Chicago’s South Side, Holman unpacks experiential / anecdotal support of the formative research cited in ‘Open24 Hours’. WWTY centers the perspective of a Black Gen X’er cis-female cognac consumer. How do historic/ (pop) cultural/ social/ economic factors impact and influence her consumption of “that smooth brown spirit”? Guided audience participation optional but warmly encouraged (21+ only). Total running time: 45-60 minutes, no intermission.”

Felicia Holman “Lifelong”: Chicagoan/ artist and Prince "fam" Felicia Holman is an independent cultural producer/programmer, as well as a co-founding member of Chicago-based Afrodiasporic feminist creative collective, Honey Pot Performance. Felicia creates, presents, and supports innovative interdisciplinary performance that engages audience and inspires community. Felicia’s artistic & professional practices are both are grounded in critical thought, intersectionality, community building & embodied storytelling. Some of her recent projects and career highlights include:

*Featured artist in Jenn Freeman's "The People's Church of The G.H.E.T.T.O" and the 10th edition of Erin Kilmurray's "The Fly Honey Show”.

*Selected as City Bureau's Fall 2019 Public Newsroom Series Curator.

*Featured presenter at Arts Administrators of Color Network-DMV's 2019 Annual Convening (DC). *Featured artist / facilitator at Flux Factory's "Must They Also Be Gods" group exhibition (NYC).

*Facilitating career development programming for emerging artists.

THE  FRANKLIN

Address: 3522 W. Franklin Blvd, Chicago IL 60624 Cell to text: (312)823-3632Hours: Saturdays 2-4pm and by appointment Online: http://thefranklinoutdoor.tumblr.comInstagram: @thefranklinoutdoor

[juviatho]

out of the woods ( self para ! )

               so maybe running away like some over-emotional teenager wasn’t the best idea after the news broke about the chairman of jwa company being her biological father and her biological mother being nothing but another disappointed she could add to her list of people who simply used her. after spending three days in paris ( a place she knew no one would even bat an eye at ) the strawberry blonde decided to make her way back to new york except greenville was not her destination, in fact, she was avoiding the town like someone in 1347 avoiding the black plague. juvia still couldn’t face everything that was going on in her life and though she felt guilty for leaving everyone without giving them an explanation she simply couldn’t return and pretend nothing had happened.

                 once she reached her destination, an old cabin in the woods her father had bought back when she was five and would be their summer getaways, that was until everything turned to shit and they just stopped coming up there altogether. the cabin wasn’t exactly the easiest to find since it was a good two-hour hike on some forgotten trail that nature had reclaimed over the years but juvia still knew this place like the back of her hands; it was her secret getaway whenever things got bad. the petite blonde hiked quietly for those two hours not wanting to catch a break since that would mean she had to think about her situation and she'd rather exhaust herself to death than to even think about how shitty her life changed overnight. after finally reaching the cabin, juvia placed her bag down as she opened it to let mimi out, ( yes, she couldn't just leave the poor cat behind and decided to bring her on the journey from paris to the cabin ) as she practically collapsed on the hardwood floors but somehow ended up making it to the dusty couch that hasn't been used in months. 

she spent her days in the cabin exactly how she spent them in france, locked in the room and just crying. she hadn’t eaten or slept for all that time so to say she was exhausted was a bit of an understatement it was just every time she closed her eyes she’d just picture the face her biological mother pulled and how she was manipulated and for what? a little bit of money? juvia just felt like an idiot to even think that her mother wanted an actual relationship with her. after a few days passed the blonde finally decided it would the right time to leave the cabin except that mother nature had other ideas as it poured down for hours, the small lake in front of the small wooden cabin seemed to be growing meaning the trail was most likely flooded by this point which meant she was basically trapped.  frustration arose in the young girl as she paced back in forth as she decided to complain about it on social media which had caught nari and sungmin’s attention which she was slightly thankful since they were one of the only two people could actually get someone to help her out of there. after an hour she noticed nari’s panic text that read sungmin had left to go get her which caused her to roll her eyes in slight annoyance no understanding why he would even go out in a storm this bad. juvia packed her things up and placed mimi back in her bag as she headed out the door into the pouring rain. 

                 after at least an hour of hiking in the pouring rain and being covered in mud and leaves, her vision blurry due to the rain but she couldn’t let that stop her from searching for the male since according to nari, the woods weren’t exactly his forte, and he could have been anywhere by now. a loud groan left the girls lip as she tucked the wet strands of hair behind her ear as she continued stomping her way to find him. not more than twenty minutes had passed until she noticed the familiar male clearly struggling to move any further from where he was, he seemed to be in worse shape than she had imagined, already covered in mood head to toe meaning he most likely slipped countless of times. a sigh left her parted lips as she made her way closer to him being sure not to slip herself. “yah! what are you doing out here? are you trying to get killed?” juvia shouted loudly since the sound of the rain hitting the ground was loud enough to block out her words if she had spoken normally.

“juvia! thank god, i found you!” he shouted in relief as he gave up in his struggle as he looked over at the petite girl which caused her to scoff at his words.

“more like i found you,” she retorted as she moved in closer to help the older male with his balance being careful on where she stepped, “what are you even doing out here?” she questioned again glancing up at the mud covered male. 

“i came to bring you back to nari, please come back home...she’s a mess and won’t sleep,” sungmin spoke loudly, his words generated sadness into the blonde’s heart not knowing how bad her decision of running off had affected the people she held close to her. 

“you didn’t have to come all the way out there, this isn’t your problem so you didn’t have to go through all this,” she informed him, her tone coming out rather bitter not that she was upset at him per say but she was mad at his decision. he was the only other thing nari and instead of comforting her he was always here trying to play hero. 

sungmin flinched slightly at her tone but it didn’t let it affect him as he shook his head, “i’m here because i’m your brother...you’re not alone in this world anymore, you never were, you had nari and now you have me and sumin...maybe hyunmin and our father,” he told her, “you aren’t alone anymore so stop acting like it.” he scolded the young girl. juvia was slightly taken back by his words, she knew her decisions the past week were more than selfish but she was always used to being alone that it never crossed her mind that she wasn’t, the blonde simply stood there quietly feeling a tear stream down her face but was thankful for the pouring rain that made it nearly unnoticeable to anyone but her, “even that guy you always hang out with, the giant one, he’s been worried sick about you and i made myself look like a total ass when i went to see him at the ward,” he chuckled softly at his words. 

at the mention of jaehyun juvia grew slightly defensive as she furrowed her brows, “why did you go to see him in the ward?” she questioned. 

“we questioned all your friends,” a lie, a straight up lie but he didn’t see the harm in it, “we just wanted to know where the hell you were.”

juvia narrowed her eyes slightly as she whipped away the rain and tears that caused her vision to blur as she shook her head, “i wasn’t lost and you should have left him alone he didn’t know i was going to run off,” she spoke her voice stern, however if her heart was filled with nothing but sadness hearing about nari she swore she could feel her heart-shattering at the mention of jae being a mess but she played it off as if it didn’t affect her. 

sungmin rolled his eyes as he extended his hand out waiting for juvia to take it, “well, come on, let’s get going i don’t want to become wolf dinner standing out there like idiots,” he offered her a soft smile. juvia was hesitant at first as she eyed his hand for a second before placing her hand slowly in his. 

                 it didn’t take long for them to get out of the woods after multiple miss calls of slipping and hearing the howls of the coyotes nearby which just caused sungmin to practically run down the trail just bringing him to trip over logs and getting covered in even more mud. just after two more hours, they reached the main road which was empty as always, just a fancy looking car parked on the side which she assumed belonged to sungmin. “your poor leather seats, they aren’t going to like this,” she spoke in a sad tone as she glanced down to her clothes which were drenched and covered in mud. 

“i’ll just have them replaced, just hurry and get in before we catch hypothermia an – ” he paused for a second which caused juvia to arch a brow at his direction at his sudden quietness, after nearly three hours of hearing him talk about nothing but his cat it seemed strange that he had suddenly gotten quiet. “d-do i have something on my f-face?” he stuttered out. 

the blonde stepped forwards as she noticed a not-so-small spider making it’s way down his face, now, juvia wasn’t scared of spiders or snakes, or anything the was categorized under creepy crawly but this spider just gave her the goosebumps as she took a step back. “that’s a fucking huge ass spider on your face,” she informed him and with that he let out a high pitch scream as he jumped up and down on the spot. 

“kill it! do something! punch me! punch me and kill it!” he commanded her, juvia clearly thought he was just being overdramatic but she had to listen to her older brother as she bawled her fist tightly. 

“just remember, this is going to hurt...” she warned him. 

“how hard can you hit? you’ –” before he could finish that all too sexist sentence juvia’s fist had made contact with his face and the spider as sungmin stumbled backward his hand flying up to where she had hit a few seconds ago curse words spilling out of his mouth. 

“what was that?” juvia asked with a smug expression on her face, though her fist was stinging it wasn’t the worse pain it’s been in so she simply ignored it, “do you want to finish that sentence, oppa?” 

“just....just get in the care so we can leave this fucking place,” he grumbled as he held onto the side of his face making his way towards the car and unlocking it. juvia followed happily behind as she sat in the passenger seat opening her bag and letting out mimi for some fresh air. “what...what is that?” sungmin asked eyeing the cat.

“a cat, what the hell does it look like?” juvia replied as she pet the at, avoiding the clear signs of the other’s discomfort, “her name is mimi, isn’t she the prettiest baby you’ve seen? she belongs to jaehyun but i like to think she belongs to me as well because she’s just...such a cute cat.” juvia gushed about the cat in front of her as she pet it. 

“meredith is much cuter, and she’s of pedigree.” he mumbled which won a soft giggle from juvia as she rolled her eyes at his comment. 

“just drive you idiot or nari is going to kill us.” juvia simply replied with a soft smile on her lips.

[justjennyvi]

I was keeping this for a time, but now, I just feel the need to let this out. I am trying. I am trying my very best to see the good things more than the negatives. Pero ang hirap. Mahirap when you have been through a lot, and you were able to experience the realities of the world, the injustices; and all those took effect to how you are perceiving the world now and you have no other choice but to keep living. But living, for me, is not as easy as it seems for others. It is not just being able to breath, eat and rest, but it is as complicated as solving calculus equation; you do not understand the process, yet you need to solve it anyway. And it is like domino, one bad or good move (decision), could affect those of others, especially those closest to you.

I was scanning through my old posts before I realized that I have only shared a little part of myself in here. This media is my outlet to my thoughts away from judgment of people from FB, IG, and Twitter. I guess everyone just wanna be understood and this is my way for people to know me and hopefully understood me. This platform is an open secret; I posted links on this on my other social media accounts, and only people who want to know me will make an effort of actually knowing me. But after rereading my older posts, I found out I haven’t shared enough. Well, I could start with this one.

I used to be so innocent and optimist from way back. Despite someone’s meanness, I could always see his/her innate goodness. I am perhaps brought up like that. But that innocence was taken advantage by a person whom I thought was a “friend”. Bear with me, I don’t really know how to tell a story and play with words as my vocabulary is limited and my grammar sucks (still blaming that English teacher from HS who never taught us basic English grammar lol). “Friendship” is such a sensitive topic for me for reasons I’ll share later. I was 7 years old, Grade 3, when a group of “sikat” girls at school welcomed me to be part of their group. We were all on the same grade but “E” (who acted as our leader) was around 4 years older than me. It was a great feeling to be a member of something, to feel like you belong, to find “friends”. Who wouldn’t want friends in the first place? Never did I thought that that honest “friendship” would become my entrance to a darker world, to that real slapped of reality. Perhaps every kid is looking forward to playing at each break time. But not me, all those times were tortures to me. Playtimes were times when I always feel left out & when I always feel useless. E was always the group leader each time we’re playing in a group. During choosing who they want to be in their group, I am always the last person they pick. Most of the time, I am the “baboy-baboy”, the “pakapin”. It was childish, yes, but it’s that act that I first notice deprivation and bullying. I admit I wasn’t sporty, or maybe that’s what they made me feel, that I am not good at anything. Since then, I never like playing. It had stuck to my head that I am not for sports. Dictatorial. That’s the kind of friendship we have with E. It was almost at the end of that school year when I felt something strange; when I felt that change of E’s treatment. She may be changed or maybe I chose to notice. What E wants, E gets. What E tells, everyone listens. If you don’t want to be bullied, you should be closer to E. You should make things that could make E happy. “Pasipsip”, that’s your ticket for a peaceful school year. I was her “alagad”, literal. Mura mig nasa isa ka kulto. She’s a dictator to the point na maski lunchbox nako iyang ikambyo sa iyaha kung walay lami iyang pagkaon, and in replace, ako mokaon sa iyang baon; ako moanswer sa iyahang exams and quizzes, ang akong allowance iyang kuhaon. At first, I willingly give my money, as I have extra, but it reached to the point where she forcedly took the money from me, abrihan akong bulsa, and took everything. Remember when I said I was innocent then? I was, and she took advantage of that. Not just my innocence but my naivety because despite seeing and experiencing all that, I still considered her as a friend and what I was doing is just to keep the friendship. I thought that’s the worst she could do. But no. From getting our (along with my other friends) allowances of 5 to 10 pesos, it reached to her requesting us to get her money for her family, for her outing, and for all other reasons. And from where will we get that amount? That’s for us to figure out, because if not, ‘ipabarang’ mi niya, which could lead to us and our family dying. Imagine the fear that a 7-year old child, who wants to live, felt during those times? “Walay dapat makabalo ani, kay kung dili, ipabarang ta mo. Labaw sa tanan, ayaw ingna inyong ginikanan. Kay once mogawas ni, kabalo namo unsay mahitabo.” Those words were stuck in our minds. “Kailangan na nako ang kwarta karun.” And so, me, together with Cathy, cut classes and walked our way home, kay wala mi kwarta para mosakay, of almost 2 km, and made alibis to our parents, kung ngano mi nanguli, and find ways to get money from our parent’s wallet just so we could live. Yes, we were thieves. Abi namo kaisa lang, but she asked repeatedly. From asking 100 pesos, to 200, even reaching up to 500. That breath of relief each time I can walk out home without them noticing that I stole money from them is as intense as that fear I felt when mother started noticing my weird actions resulting to her checking my pocket and bag before I head back to school. Good thing she did not check my shoes. I still couldn’t think of those traumatic experiences without getting emotional, and I am now, as I am writing this. I suffered mental, emotional and physical torture. Yes, even physical. There was a time when E told us that someone stole her bracelet and the one who stole it is from one of us. She called all of us in the group, asking us to surrender earlier as she will still know eventually after the ritual she will about to make. “Mananagna”, that’s what she told she is. She took a piece of our hair, leave us waiting for the result, as she was talking in front of the tree, crying, praying, conversing with her “invisible twin”. She went back to us from time to time announcing the names of those who she said innocent, leaving me, Cathy and Lovely as the possible culprit. She talked to us individually in different places, all were asked to admit a crime we did not do. In her desperation to made us admit, she physically harmed us. I received several slaps and a mental torture of being called a thief, while Cathy and Lovely were pushed towards a cliff full of big red ants. Knowing that she was capable of physically harming us, we chose to zip our mouth and follow what she told us to do. That kind of life continued til we reached the end of 5th grade. If not for Abegail’s braveness of speaking to her parents, we could have possibly suffered more. Akala ko once the truth has been exposed, I could finally live a normal life. But then I was wrong. Instead of understanding and pity me for what I have been through, my aunt focused on that fact that I stole money from her.  Instead of comforting a child, she exposed it to other relatives, telling everyone that I am a thief, and they all laugh towards my naivety of how simple it could have been if I told them eventually what happened. “Mao na! Kay dali man gud ka mahadlok ug tao! Basin mangatol nana imong kamot ha, inig dili ka makakawat.” Their words have affected me very much to the point that even I am doubting my own self. “Dili kaha ako ang nagkuha ato?” My every thought each time someone’s thing is missing. I judged myself first, thinking others would also judge me the same. I became conscious of what others think of me. I hear their voices more, more so if its negative criticisms about me. Celebrating my achievements became harder as I see those as worthless, knowing people will remember your faults more than the right things you did. If there’s one event in my life that I really want to completely forget, that would be it. Since then, I want nothing else but a restart at life. That is why I was ecstatic upon hearing that we were moving out and transfer to a new home with a new environment and new people finally. But different from what I thought, me transferring to that school has worsened my negativity, my distrust, and unhappiness. High school drama. High school bullying. Being a transferee, I was a victim to all of that. Having that eagerness of restarting my life, the moment I entered that new school, I act the way I want people to see me. I aimed to be good at school in order to gain my parent’s trust back. I want to be a good person. For a time, I thought I was doing good with my restart, I made a lot of friends, topped per grading rankings, and often praised by teachers for being reserved. But I guess humans are humans. Some of my classmates thought that I am just faking everything. “Too good to be true”, that’s what they say. “Pasipsip” “Pagoody-goody” “Igat” “Humok ug Ilong” “Nasa sulod ang kulo” that’s what they branded me.  Restart what? I am back to that whole dark world again. It turns out, they just become friends with me to find fault in me. Guess what? They succeeded. There was that guy who courted me. Those “friends” supported the guy’s act; saying all the good things about him, telling me how sincere he was, and all other good praises about the guy, just for me to say yes. Growing up, I was taught that being in a relationship is not a game. It is sacred. The only purpose for entering it is to marry. But peer pressure. The “friends” are all pushing me to say yes. I have that desire to feel accepted and once again I disappointed myself for giving in to the pressure. They used that case to judge me and my whole personality telling their brandings of me are all real. What can I do? I made the wrong choice. I help them prove that they were all right. Good thing the guy was kind enough the moment I took back my answer. I still feel sorry for that guy though, I saw his sincerity and I know his intentions were clear. But no, that time I know I wasn’t prepared to commit. That’s just the first incident and a lot more has happened after. I can’t survive a single day without breaking down. My lunch breaks were all filled with tears for all the bullying. Maybe I was just too sensitive or maybe they were also rude. Though I was able to find people who stick with me through all that, High School just made my world darker with each passing day. Not that I did not enjoy high school, but whenever I tried to look back, I could think more of those bad times, and the trauma it has caused me.

I still have a lot to share. . . .Hang on. . .

[fyrapartnersearch]

hey pardner, why the long face?

howdy, howdy friends! hope you're doing well in these scary times <3 shock and surprise, i am looking for a couple of writing partners c: i am 26, she/her, cst, and i work fulltime as well as go to school part-time, so while i cannot promise rapidfire posts, i am becoming better about daily posts! as long as they're relatively short, sweet, and to the point. so, limits/fun factoids about my style/"tl;dr are we compatible?" first: + when reaching out to me, please tell me your limits and any plot/character ideas! + addendum: i will not respond to messages that don't contain any information about you, your limits, and what you're looking to write or what characters you'd like to use! it doesn't need to be completely fleshed out, thanks in advance <3 + i'm adaptable and laidback! however, i do not write pedophilia, rape/sexual assault, incest, abusive relationships, romantic large age gaps, nor master x slave. + i will not write with minors either, strongly preferred that you are 21+ + quality is far more valuable than quantity regarding length. i prefer shorter nowadays! those tasty, 1-3 para potato chip rps, so to speak c: + third person only, please +i do like long-term! + i admittedly have a preference for m// lately, so i will likely turn some other pairings down depending on what i am currently already writing! + i prefer writing middle-aged to older farts! i wholeheartedly welcome the same! + note: i love writing with pretty boy archetypes!! but i have plenty with my current threads, bring me yer more grizzled and rough and tough boys! the two characters i have in mind are too old and boring to keep up with pretty, lithe youngins! + i love ooc chatter! i'd prefer it if you did too, but it's absolutely okay if you're just interested in writing! it is not a dealbreaker + if you're not feeling it or if life happens, that's okay. you are free to either tell me you want a change, drop altogether, or even ghost me! [cravings] + constantly changing! i have a couple of silly nuggets rolling around. mostly fluff with sprinkled angst. + post apocalypse slice of life is also great. with plenty of humor to spare. + something deeply silly about a witch and their familiar + anything with werewolves and their human beloved very concerned about the recent furniture chewing phase, and wow is frontline expensive for a 400lb beast. + something a bit more rocky, but an old fashioned western physician falling for an outlaw/ sheriff/ rancher, etc. bonus points for post-apoc and western themed. please, i got the perfect ole grizzled doc for this c: [modern] + i love modern, but i am not really looking too intensely for it right now c: i am happy writing about firefighters and lawyers, scientists, military readjusting to civilian life, boring divorced dads who find lifelong love with other divorced dads, fluffy slice-of-life, etc. [(somewhat) historic] + btw, i am not a history buff - so be prepared for anachronisms galore! c: which might mean plumbing and dental care centuries before it was introduced. + noire crime! old grizzled detectives and their partners in crime trying to figure out these gosh dang murders. dang killers, bringing down everyone's vibes. + a detective moving to a podunk old town, with a ~mysterious past~. however, there isn't any mysterious past, the locals just humor the guy and i have a soft spot for the detective falling for the sheriff while constantly heckling him for assistance. + western! please, just... anything western. i love cowboys, ranches, train robberies, just... i will maybe propose if you let me indulge this. [fantasy & monsters] + i am also happy to write fantasy! + fantasy can genuinely be blended into anything, into modern, sci-fi, post apocalyptic, etc. + i am also happy with pure, vanilla, cheesy fantasy - with kings, queens, beautiful warhorses and kingdoms by the sea, and conventionally attractive people with healthy teeth and... far less dysentery. + i am happy to write sci-fi into fantasy - hunters/mercenaries with eyes that can hologram maps and prey, platinum horses made of gaskets and titanium joints who breathe steam, a kingdom in the sky, anything! [... guilty pleasures] + i love the cheesy and humorous things to temper the chaos. love, love, love writing that domestic, usually peaceful, sweet life of two happy people who have been together for ages or just met in their golden years after struggle and just... working for their happy endings. + though i am not usually interested in cheesy, obnoxious tropes... i have a soft spot for two grumpy, gruff guys falling for each other c: [miscellaneous] + this is hardly an exhaustive list of ideas or themes that interest me! if you have something in mind that you do not see, or anything at all, please do let me know! i love brainstorming and hearing ideas c: what characters do i have in mind? plenty! craving two in particular, but i have plenty more in mind if the following two don't catch your interest: + one is svelte, aloof, posh, thoughtful. the very characterization of something like... a sleek, abyssinian cat playing the cello. intriguing, a little odd, an intimidating, coded villain - but really, just socially awkward, and a sweetheart. + the other is beefy, grumpy, and also... a goof at the core. the archetype of an ornery grandpa with the warmest heart and a distinguished grey streak in his hair. both are middle-aged men and adaptable to anything from old-fashioned fantasy, to modern, to sci-fi, to fantasy-modern hybrids, to post apocalyptic. they can be rogues, kings, survivors, lawyers, detectives, chefs, scientists, neighbors, loyal right-hands, anything from protectors and anchors to the village/office boob. i am preferring to write the former gentleman, but i am up to write either, or someone completely different! i am also happy to elaborate upon contact if you are interested! fortunately, each one is more complex than several adjectives and a stereotypical archetype. i'd also love to hear the characters you have in mind! are you interested? well, neat-o! dm me at howdy^3#6518 on discord or email me at blemishedatom@gmail.com (however, i do not write over email. this is only so if you don't feel comfortable sharing discord names until after first contact c: )

[fyrapartnersearch]

Yeehaw, the apocalypse is nigh!

howdy, howdy fine folks! shock and surprise, i am looking for a couple of writing partners c: i am 26, she/her, cst, and i work fulltime as well as go to school part-time, so while i cannot promise rapidfire posts, i am becoming better about daily posts! as long as they're relatively short, sweet, and to the point. so, limits/fun factoids about my style/"tl;dr are we compatible?" first: + when reaching out to me, please tell me your limits and any plot/character ideas!  + addendum: i will not respond to messages that don't contain any information about you, your limits, and what you're looking to write or what characters you'd like to use! it doesn't need to be completely fleshed out, thanks!  + i'm adaptable and laidback! however, i do not write pedophilia, rape/sexual assault, incest, abusive relationships, romantic large age gaps, nor master x slave. i will not write explicit content with minors either, strongly preferred that you are 21+.  + quality is far more valuable than quantity regarding length. i prefer shorter nowadays! those tasty, 1-3 para potato chip rps, so to speak c: + third person only, please +i do like long-term!  + i admittedly have a preference for m// lately, so i will likely turn some other pairings down depending on what i am currently already writing! + i prefer writing middle-aged to older farts! they come in all shapes, sizes, colors, identities, and backgrounds! i wholeheartedly welcome the same! + i love ooc chatter! i'd prefer it if you did too, but it's absolutely okay if you're just interested in writing! it is not a dealbreaker + if you're not feeling it or if life happens, that's okay. you are free to either tell me you want a change, drop altogether, or even ghost me!  [cravings] + constantly changing! i have a couple of silly nuggets rolling around. mostly fluff with sprinkled angst. + post apocalypse slice of life is also great. with plenty of humor to spare. + something deeply silly about a witch and their familiar + anything with werewolves and their human beloved very concerned about the recent furniture chewing phase, and wow is frontline expensive for a 400lb beast. + something a bit more rocky, but an old fashioned western physician falling for an outlaw/ sheriff/ rancher, etc. bonus points for post-apoc and western themed. please, i got the perfect ole grizzled doc for this c: [modern] + i love modern, but i am not really looking too intensely for it right now c: i am happy writing about firefighters and lawyers, scientists, military readjusting to civilian life, boring divorced dads who find lifelong love with other divorced dads, fluffy slice-of-life, etc. [(somewhat) historic] + btw, i am not a history buff - so be prepared for anachronisms galore! c: which might mean plumbing and dental care centuries before it was introduced. + noire crime! old grizzled detectives and their partners in crime trying to figure out these gosh dang murders. dang killers, bringing down everyone's vibes. + a detective moving to a podunk old town, with a ~mysterious past~. however, there isn't any mysterious past, the locals just humor the guy and i have a soft spot for the detective falling for the sheriff while constantly heckling him for assistance. + western! please, just... anything western. i love cowboys, ranches, train robberies, just... i will maybe propose if you let me indulge this.  [fantasy & monsters] + i am also happy to write fantasy!  + fantasy can genuinely be blended into anything, into modern, sci-fi, post apocalyptic, etc. + i am also happy with pure, vanilla, cheesy fantasy - with kings, queens, beautiful warhorses and kingdoms by the sea, and conventionally attractive people with healthy teeth and... far less dysentery.  + i am happy to write sci-fi into fantasy - hunters/mercenaries with eyes that can hologram maps and prey, platinum horses made of gaskets and titanium joints who breathe steam, a kingdom in the sky, anything! [... guilty pleasures] + i love the cheesy and humorous things to temper the chaos. love, love, love writing that domestic, usually peaceful, sweet life of two happy people who have been together for ages or just met in their golden years after struggle and just... working for their happy endings. + though i am not usually interested in cheesy, obnoxious tropes... i have a soft spot for two grumpy, gruff guys falling for each other c: [miscellaneous] + this is hardly an exhaustive list of ideas or themes that interest me! if you have something in mind that you do not see, or anything at all, please do let me know! i love brainstorming and hearing ideas c: + note: i love writing with pretty boy archetypes!! but i am inundated with them at the moment in my current threads, bring me yer more grizzled and rough and tough boys! the two characters i have in mind are too old and boring to keep up with pretty, lithe youngins! what characters do i have in mind? plenty! craving two in particular, but i have plenty more in mind if the following two don't catch your interest: + one is svelte, aloof, posh, thoughtful. the very characterization of something like... a sleek, abyssinian cat playing the cello. intriguing, a little odd, an intimidating, coded villain - but really, just socially awkward, and a sweetheart. + the other is beefy, grumpy, and also... a goof at the core. the archetype of an ornery grandpa with the warmest heart and a distinguished grey streak in his hair. both are middle-aged men and adaptable to anything from old-fashioned fantasy, to modern, to sci-fi, to fantasy-modern hybrids, to post apocalyptic. they can be rogues, kings, survivors, lawyers, detectives, chefs, scientists, neighbors, loyal right-hands, anything from protectors and anchors to the village/office boob.  i am preferring to write the former gentleman, but i am up to write either, or someone completely different! i am also happy to elaborate upon contact if you are interested! fortunately, each one is more complex than several adjectives and a stereotypical archetype. i'd also love to hear the characters you have in mind! are you interested? well, neat-o! dm me at howdy^3#6518 on discord

[fyrapartnersearch]

if the saloon doors are a-swinging...

howdy, howdy fine folks! shock and surprise, i am looking for a couple of writing partners c: i am 26, and i work fulltime as well as go to school part-time, so while i cannot promise rapidfire posts, i am becoming better about daily posts! as long as they're relatively short, sweet, and to the point. so, limits/fun factoids about my style/"tl;dr are we compatible?" first: + when reaching out to me, please tell me your limits and any plot/character ideas!  + addendum: i will not respond to messages that don't contain any information about you, your limits, and what you're looking to write or what characters you'd like to use! it doesn't need to be completely fleshed out, thanks!  + i write over discord near exclusively now! + i'm adaptable and laidback! however, i do not write pedophilia, rape/sexual assault, incest, abusive relationships, romantic large age gaps, nor master x slave. i will not write explicit content with minors either.  + quality is far more valuable than quantity regarding length. i prefer shorter nowadays! those tasty, 1-3 para potato chip rps, so to speak c: + third person only, please +i do like long-term!  + romance and platonic is welcome! as far as romance goes, all gender identities and sexual identities are a-okay. i do admittedly have a preference for m// lately, so i will likely turn some other pairings down depending on what i am currently already writing! + i prefer writing middle-aged to older farts! they come in all shapes, sizes, colors, identities, and backgrounds! i wholeheartedly welcome the same! + i love ooc chatter! i'd prefer it if you did too, but it's absolutely okay if you're just interested in writing! it is not a dealbreaker + if you're not feeling it or if life happens, that's okay. you are free to either tell me you want a change, drop altogether, or even ghost me! i will do my best to communicate, but i am sorry in advance if i disappear without a word! i try to be pretty good at letting people know if i am not feeling it or if i am going on a break c: + yes, yes, i know i write like a goob - but i promise you that my posts will be crafted with love and care what do i like to write?  [cravings] + constantly changing! i have a couple of silly nuggets rolling around. mostly fluff with sprinkled angst. + post apocalypse slice of life is also great. with plenty of humor to spare. + anything with werewolves and their human beloved very concerned about the recent furniture chewing phase, and wow is frontline expensive for a 400lb beast. + want something depressing? how about something inspired by bioshock? impossibly beautiful underwater world with genetic manipulation, unhinged leaders, and missing children. + a silly, humorous story about a familiar and their witch + something a bit more rocky, but an old fashioned western physician falling for an outlaw/ sheriff/ rancher, etc. bonus points for post-apoc and western themed. please, i got the perfect ole grizzled doc for this c: [modern] + i love modern, but i am not really looking too intensely for it right now c: i am happy writing about firefighters and lawyers, scientists, military readjusting to civilian life, boring divorced dads who find lifelong love with other divorced dads, fluffy slice-of-life, etc. + military and coming back home! + leaving the city for a life on a farm! + leaving the farm for a life in the city! "y'all mean to tell me you don't know what noodling for catfish is?"

[(somewhat) historic] + btw, i am not a history buff - so be prepared for anachronisms galore! c: which might mean plumbing and dental care centuries before it was introduced. + noire crime! old grizzled detectives and their partners in crime trying to figure out these gosh dang murders. dang killers, bringing down everyone's vibes. + a detective moving to a podunk old town, with a ~mysterious past~. however, there isn't any mysterious past, the locals just humor the guy and i have a soft spot for the detective falling for the sheriff while constantly heckling him for assistance. + western! please, just... anything western. i love cowboys, ranches, train robberies, just... i will maybe propose if you let me indulge this. 

[fantasy & monsters] + i am also happy to write fantasy!  + fantasy can genuinely be blended into anything, into modern, sci-fi, post apocalyptic, etc. + i am also happy with pure, vanilla, cheesy fantasy - with kings, queens, beautiful warhorses and kingdoms by the sea, and conventionally attractive people with healthy teeth and... far less dysentery.  + i am happy to write sci-fi into fantasy - hunters/mercenaries with eyes that can hologram maps and prey, platinum horses made of gaskets and titanium joints who breathe steam, a kingdom in the sky, anything! + something all 'bout dat circus life! star crossed lovers tropes abound! + very, very old monsters who pester that one Highly Top Secret Government Agent ™ to let them see the spectral ghost of their mortal loved one from centuries ago. the ghosts of their in-laws also tag along. + good-natured, summoned demon spouses who just wish you'd get along with your in-laws who reside in a lovely three-bedroom villa style family home in hell. + i have a love for monsters trying to figure out this whole. human. thing. attempting to fit polo shirts for their office job over their curled horns, old werewolves trimming their nosehairs and their primary physician chiding at them for eating too much red meat, etc. there are so, so many possibilities + also dragons! [post-apocalyptic] + i've got spurs that jingle jangle jingle! post-apocalyptic in the wild, wild west sounds incredibly fun! + one innocent or guilty chump gets kicked out of a survivors organization, and their closest friend follows. then they both adventure into the great unknown of a hollow world. + zombie survival, maybe? [sci-fi] + space pilots, space pirates, space colonies, space travel, spaaaaace! + i don't have anything specific! typically, my sci-fi is blended in with other themes c: if you have anything, i'd love to hear it! [... guilty pleasures] + i love the cheesy and humorous things to temper the chaos. love, love, love writing that domestic, usually peaceful, sweet life of two happy people who have been together for ages or just met in their golden years after struggle and just... working for their happy endings. + though i am not usually interested in cheesy, obnoxious tropes... i have a soft spot for two grumpy, gruff guys falling for each other c: [miscellaneous]

+ this is hardly an exhaustive list of ideas or themes that interest me! if you have something in mind that you do not see, or anything at all, please do let me know! i love brainstorming and hearing ideas c: + note: i love writing with pretty boy archetypes!! but i am inundated with them at the moment in my current threads, bring me yer more grizzled and rough and tough boys! the two characters i have in mind are too old and boring to keep up with pretty, lithe youngins! what characters do i have in mind? plenty! craving two in particular, but i have plenty more in mind if the following two don't catch your interest: + one is svelte, aloof, posh, thoughtful. the very characterization of something like... a sleek, abyssinian cat playing the cello. intriguing, a little odd, an intimidating, coded villain - but really, just socially awkward, and a sweetheart. + the other is beefy, grumpy, and also... a goof at the core. the archetype of an ornery grandpa with the warmest heart and a distinguished grey streak in his hair. both are middle-aged men and adaptable to anything from old-fashioned fantasy, to modern, to sci-fi, to fantasy-modern hybrids, to post apocalyptic. they can be rogues, kings, survivors, lawyers, detectives, chefs, scientists, neighbors, loyal right-hands, anything from protectors and anchors to the village/office boob.  i am preferring to write the former gentleman, but i am up to write either, or someone completely different! i am also happy to elaborate upon contact if you are interested! fortunately, each one is more complex than several adjectives and a stereotypical archetype. i'd also love to hear the characters you have in mind! are you interested? well, neat-o! i can be reached at discord on howdy^3#6518, i look forward to hearing from you!