#how all their friends knew the groom was in love because whenever someone made a joke

[withclawandvine]

look. idk what sjm has up her sleeve for acotar 5, what ships are gonna sail.

but i do know that no matter what happens, nobody will never be able to take this scene away from me

AKA the cutest and purest interaction in this entire damn series

like WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE FOLLOWED THE SOUND OF HER LAUGH??????? i'm going to be SICK

[wordsarelife]

—timeless

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco malfoy wouldn’t have thought to come across you in a dark magic shop or how eager he would be to marry you

notes: i changed it up a bit, i hope that’s alright

warnings: mentions of grooming, loved ones dying || navigation

the dim light of the street lantern was falling into the window of the dark magic shop. the wind hit the bells behind the door when it got opened, making them chime a melodic melody.

“hello?” a voice asked.

you looked up from the paper on the counter and searched for the person that had just come through the door. it wasn’t long until draco malfoy entered your field of vision.

“l/n?” he asked surprised when his eyes fell on you.

“malfoy” you noted. his hair was as light as ever, but he looked a bit healthier since the last time you had seen him, which arguably wasn’t the best. it had been the final fight and you had watched him being walked away by his parents.

“what are you doing here?” he proceeded to ask “i wouldn’t have thought that someone like you would come anywhere near this shop”

you hadn’t been friends at hogwarts. quite the opposite really. you had always belonged to ron, hermione and harry, while draco had made it his mission to torture them.

although you had always been by their side, he had never once said anything about you. probably because even draco malfoy pitied you, like the rest of the school. your parents had been brutally killed by death eaters during your second year in hogwarts. even though you hated to see the pity in people's eyes, you had never noticed it when he looked at you. it was just silence, like he had not a single thought in his head whenever he would look at you, as if looking at you would silence the rest of the world.

you had always looked at bit smaller, a bit more fragile than your classmates. so fragile, not even draco malfoy dared to break you.

“my uncle bought the shop last year” you answered truthfully “and as i’m staying with him..” you trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.

“aha” malfoy nodded, and having decided that that was enough smalltalk either of you could endure, without growing uncomfortable, his hand went to the bag he was carrying and took something out.

he set the object down on the counter in front of you. it looked like a normal mirror, but it was black and you knew that it wouldn’t do you any good to search for your reflection.

“it’s my fathers” malfoy said after a few seconds of silence, before he cleared his throat “it was my fathers”

“oh” was all you could say.

“i’m trying to sell a few of his belongings.. that are on the darker side” his eyes found yours as he finally looked up “i don’t think anyone would be particularly happy about us still keeping those things”

“yeah, no” you agreed, gently taking the mirror into your hands.

“what does it do?” malfoy asked and you furrowed you eyebrows, surprised that he was asking you.

“nothing good” you said vaguely, watching his eyes darting over the object in your hands “it’s corruption” you concluded “every object of dark magic just corrupts the soul and in comparison, what they can do is just not worth it”

“i know” malfoy nodded quickly, his eyes returning to watch you instead of the mirror.

you wrapped it up in some paper and taped it shut, so no one was dared to look at it.

“that’s why i’m selling it” he said “that’s why i’m selling all of these things my father owned. it will just take me some time to find all of them”

“okay” you nodded, not sure what you could say instead.

“i just have the mirror with me today, i wanted it out of the house as soon as i found it” he added quickly. it seemed like not saying anything was motivation enough for him to talk.

or maybe, what you didn’t know was that he had so much to say, because he couldn’t tell it to anyone else. there were just him and his mother in that dark house and he wouldn’t try to talk to her about any of this. she had been through enough.

to his surprise he found a bit of comfort in your warm eyes, making it almost impossible for him not to tell you everything. and it was weird that you were harry potters best friend of all people. but you were friendly and you were here, so he didn’t care.

maybe he had never really cared that he should not be feeling about you this way.

you took out a book that seemed so old, that it almost fell apart when it hit the counter and turned the pages to find the price range for the dark magical object that was still laying next to you.

malfoy was watching you in complete silence and before he could question if the mood had shifted to become uncomfortable, a happy squeal broke out of your lips.

“i got it!” you smiled, pointing at the top of the page. malfoy tried to bend his head to look at it, before you were finally friendly enough to turn the book in his direction.

“huh” malfoy nodded “it's more than i thought it would be worth”

“that's quite common with these objects” you smiled happily and malfoy mirrored your expression. he was a bit surprised you were smiling at him, but it seemed like you didn’t harbour any hard feelings towards him.

he remembered you clearly, a few months ago at hogwarts, standing on the stairs, your braid ripped apart, lose strands of hair flowing in the wind. your face filled with dirt. there had been blood coming from a cut in your lip.

he wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it, but for a split second, your eyes fell on him. standing on opposite sides, tears brimming and flowing over your cheeks quickly.

maybe you had been the sole reason for him to throw his wand at harry potter. maybe he had done it because it had felt like you had asked him to.

how could he ever ignore the calling of a beautiful girl, standing in the middle of a war, crying for him to do something?

“thank you” he nodded when you passed him the galleons. he walked back to the door, feeling your eyes on him.

“draco” you called and he turned around quickly. he had never heard his first name coming out of your mouth. it sounded so beautiful when you said it. so soft and gentle, almost like it wasn’t a curse. “thank you”

no, he had not only imagined it.

draco smiled at you and nodded. he left the shop without another word.

it only took him about a day to come back. he spent more than just a few hours searching the house for more of his fathers artifacts, storing them away safely, so he could bring in one at a time. he wasn’t sure why, but the possibility of seeing you excited him. making his days bearable.

“draco” you greeted when he entered the shop. he was almost glad that you stuck to calling him by his first name.

“hello” draco nodded, he wasn’t daring enough to use your first name just yet.

“you came back quicker than i had thought”

just because of you, draco thought to himself, just nodding to you, as if that was answer enough.

just like the day before, his visit didn’t take long. with you inspecting the artifact, taking out the book and giving him his galleons before he could even ask you anything.

he made sure to bring more than just one object when he came in the next day.

“how have you been?” he asked as he watched you turn the pages of the book.

you shrugged, not quite sure what to answer “harry, ron and hermione went back to hogwarts, so it’s a bit lonely, but it’s alright”

it astonished him how often you spoke about your friends. you had even done that during your time in hogwarts, a bit like you were always dependent on them.

“why didn’t you?” he wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line.

“huh?” you looked up at him “went back to hogwarts?” you asked and his smile died down when you began to laugh. “no” you shook your head and he recognized the sadness quickly wandering over your face.

“and why—“ before he could finish his question, you had taken out the galleons and held them in his direction.

“here” you interrupted.

he left the shop with an uneasy feeling, scared he might’ve offended you. but everything was back to normal when he came in the next day and the few following after that.

it had been three weeks of him visiting the shop regularly, his mother already wondering what he was doing there so often, when for the first time it wasn’t you behind the counter, but an elderly man.

draco waited patiently at the door, as another costumer was standing at the counter.

“where is y/n, cornelius?” he could hear the man ask. he was well into his thirties, looking a bit too old to have any connection to you, but maybe you were just as friendly with him as you were with anyone else and draco really wanted to know the answer to his question.

“oh” the bearded man, probably cornelius, behind the counter shook his head “she went off to collect a few things that we need”

“that’s a pity” the costumer noted “i had hoped to see her beautiful face one of these days”

draco grimaced at that. he ignored the costumers greeting, before the man left the shop.

“hello” cornelius waved at draco to come forward.

“afternoon” draco greeted.

“draco malfoy, right?” the man asked “y/n told me about you coming in and selling your father’s artifacts”

“that’s right, sir” draco nodded.

“you two went to hogwarts together, didn't you?” cornelius smiled “i’m her uncle, cornelius barnes”

“it’s very nice to meet you, mr barnes” draco shook the man’s hand “is y/n alright?” somehow he could sense that barnes answer to the strange man’s question had been a lie.

“yes” barnes nodded “she’s just in the back. she’s not fond of hector” he pointed to the door.

“ah” draco nodded. he could understand that you’d rather hide away as soon as that man came into the shop, even draco found him uncomfortable.

“he’s been wanting to marry her” barnes continued and draco wondered if it was in the man’s nature to just tell private things to costumers or maybe, draco was the closest thing to a friend y/n had right now, considering the rest of them had went off to hogwarts.

“isn’t he at least ten years older than her?” draco wondered.

“twenty” barnes corrected and draco shivered. “sad enough that she’s actually considering it”

draco’s chin had almost hit the counter at that “what?” he asked outraged “why would she ever marry someone— like that” he finished quickly.

“i’ve been trying to talk her out of it, but she’s always been too selfless for her own good. she didn’t even go back to hogwarts”

“i had figured she didn’t want to”

barnes shook his head “she decided against it. i wish it wasn’t like that, but money is tight and y/n wants to do anything possible to save me” he pointed down to his leg “i’m not as fit as i was a few years ago”

draco nodded understandingly.

“she’s convinced that her marriage to a man like hector could help me” barnes shook his head sadly “i wish she wouldn’t feel as responsible for me and rather find a man she could have an equal relationship with, someone that could bring her comfort after my death, someone she could actually love”

“yeah” draco nodded and mirrored the man’s sad expression. he left the shop a few minutes later, the galleons clinking together in his pocket, which made him even sadder, feeling like he was robbing you and your uncle of your last money.

it took him more than just a few days to return back to the shop, carefully thinking about how he could help you best.

“draco” you smiled when he entered the shop and he could almost read the relief from your face. “it’s alright, uncle cornelius” you patted your uncles shoulder “you can sit down in the back, i will take care of it”

barnes greeted draco, before he limped into the back of the shop.

“he’s really nice” draco said as soon as the door to had closed.

“yeah” you smiled and draco noticed how much you admired the old man “sadly we all can’t stay young for forever”

draco nodded.

you looked at him expectingly “what?” you smiled “no dark magical object?”

“not quite, no” draco shook his head, before he took out the velvet box and set it down on the counter in front of you.

“what’s that?” you asked surprised. he looked at you and nodded when you went to open the box. a beautiful ring was shimmering so much it almost blended you. “a ring?” you wondered “okay, which curse was it hexed with?”

draco shook his head. “it’s my mothers. it’s not cursed..” he thought for a short second, before he added “or magical”

“draco?” you asked and he admired how his name slipped past your lips so effortlessly, so gentle it reminded him of his first visit to the shop and the shiver he had felt every time you had said it since.

“marry me” draco said a bit faster than anticipated.

“what?” you laughed, entirely astonished at his demand.

“your uncle told me about the money problems you had” he quickly explained “i get access to my father’s assets as soon as i’m twenty-five or sooner if i get married before that”

“my uncle told you that?” you repeated faintly.

“yeah, but it’s not a problem”

you looked up at him with big eyes. “you can’t just barge in here and ask me to marry you.. you can’t just come in here and save me.. that’s not how that works, draco” you shook your head and his heart sank.

“why not?” he wondered “i’d be ready to do that for you. you need money and i have it”

“draco” you touched his hand softly “i don’t want to get married out of convenience” you explained.

“but you're thinking about marrying hector?” he raised his voice.

“he really told you everything, huh?” you muttered, looking back at the door to the private area of the shop.

“y/n!” draco called and your eyes focused back on him.

“that’s different” you tried to escape his eyes.

“how is that any different? at least i’m not twenty years old than you!” draco argued “so you’d rather get married to that disgusting—“

“yes!” you interrupted and your voice was now matching the loudness of his. “you can’t just decide to marry me because it’d be the right thing to do!”

“but it is” he shook his head “i’m trying to help you. marrying me would benefit you”

“but i don’t want to get married to you like that” the sentence had left your mouth faster than you had been able to stop it, immediately making you close it and look down. right at the velvet box and the ring that was still sitting in the middle of you.

“what?” draco asked surprised.

you sighed “i don’t care about marrying hector out of convenience, but i would care if it was you”

the smile broke out quickly on draco’s face. “you would want to marry me?” he asked “but only for the right reasons?”

“i wasn’t talking about a marriage just yet” you raised your finger and corrected him “but i wouldn’t want to destroy that option just because i could profit from it. and if i would get married to you, it surely wouldn’t be because of your money”

draco almost recognized something in your eyes. something that you saw in him that no one ever did. and even though he had never seen it before, it felt familiar and safe. “do you think you could ever love me?” he asked unsurely. maybe he was just interpreting this conversation wrong.

“i think i have loved you longer than what was probably healthy for me” you whispered, leaning on the table and resting your chin on top of your hand. “do you think you could ever love me?” you repeated his question.

his smile grew impossibly bigger. “i don’t think i could even stop if i wanted to”

he was ready to jump over the counter, to hold you close and kiss you, to make all the bad years disappear.

but before he could do anything of that sort, you smiled and closed the box containing the ring, pushing it in his direction.

“so marriage is off the table?” he asked faintly.

“not completely” you smiled “but how about you take me on a date first?” you suggested.

“okay” he smiled, then he looked around the room. there was still your problem, the one that had provoked him to ask for your hand in marriage in the first place. “i think i know someone who would buy a few of these artifacts, for more than just their market price”

“you do?” you wondered and he nodded. it was like a weight had been lifted off you shoulders. or maybe for the first time in a long time, someone else knew what to do.

you went around the corner and hugged him. he held your head in his hands, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he finally kissed you. soft and gentle, making a shiver run down your spine.

after all, everything became better than you had hoped it to be. you returned to hogwarts, just having missed two months of classes that you had caught up to quicker than you had been able to worry about it.

draco had started finishing his education from afar, while helping your uncle to sell most of the magic items and finally deciding on new things to sell, completely updating the place until it was filled with costumers coming in all the time.

it took a few more years, but soon enough draco proposed to you again. and in the summer of the year 2002, y/n l/n married draco malfoy for only the right reasons.

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 2

chapter 1

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; . . i am not the boy you knew and you are dead to me you watch someone you know grow into static company - boy (alex g)

2.

your chest ached.

with changing seasons, countless birthdays, the broadening of your consciousness brought an expansion of your body. growing in places that made you walk with a slouch and had your hands tugging at the front of your shirt. the shorts you'd wear during summer turned into your shame whenever your parent(s) would ask you to go and change for something more. . 'appropriate'.

ridiculous, you thought. how could they be inappropriate? they were your favorite pair.

or they used to be.

a man old enough to be your father leered at you while you were out riding your bike. you took them off as soon as you got home. you're sure they sit at the bottom of your closet to this day.

your hands got bigger. your fingers stretched. you got taller. people often told you you looked like your parent(s). you didn't see it.

despite the passage of time, mark was still there.

your parent(s) had long received the grayson's blessing to allow him refuge in your home: playdates whenever he wasn't preoccupied with baseball and important school work. but as the pages of the calendars turned, your parent(s) worried your little playdates had gone on for too long.

however, much like the dilemma your teachers had, no one had the heart - nor the energy - to separate you two. the two of you were entering the age where interest in romance grew and your parent(s) worried. it was cute, at first. when a 6 year old mark would follow you home and your parent(s) would have to contact the graysons, lest they turn the world upside down searching for their one son. or the time in which he'd brought ring-pops and claimed you'd gotten married.

but the fact of the matter was that mark had changed, too. you didn't see it at first. didn't even imagine it could've ever been that way.

mark was a growing boy.

there was evidence of that etched in markings on the wall next to your bedroom door: comparisons of height done in pencil. one with your initial. the other in his. you'd always be surprised when he kept surpassing you inch by inch. and you'd make a face whenever you'd - yet again - failed to keep up. and after your parent(s) wearily watched the two of you engage in hand size comparisons, the door to your bedroom was to remain open at all times.

but the truth of the matter was that there was simply no need.

mark was hardly ever in your bedroom those days. and much to your disappointment - well, why were you? it's not like you didn't see it coming - he'd gotten friends of his own. friends who grew with him in height and mannerism. who'd say big, nasty words and who's eyes would follow girls down the hallway. who he'd sit and rough house with until teachers had enough and sat him next to the most 'well behaved student' - you - despite his huffing. friends who wouldn't spare you a glance even though you were walking with mark. who'd talk directly to mark as if you weren't even there and steal him away with excuses of baseball practice. or simply because they could.

and mark would go.

and once, you felt your face going hot when one of them scoffed, "sorry, are we stealing you away from your girlfriend?"

mark returned the laugh - you didn't know if he knew you heard or not. you also didn't wanna know - and said, "ew."

laughter.

and if you were anyone else you would've thought about throwing his own baseball bat against his back. but all it did was make you sad. it made you angry. it made you embarrassed. and you didn't know why.

mark was a growing boy.

you were growing, too.

but you wanted to stay little for as long as you could. and the dread that came with buying newer clothes each passing year left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

you obsessed over magazines. the pretty girls on social media who's hair looked perfect. who's teeth were whiter. who's skin looked painted on. you're sure

the others in school shared your sentiment.

soon, you had to preoccupy yourself with shaving your arms or your legs or drinking large amounts of water in order to feel something in your tummy.

but mark. .mark never had to worry about that. he was a growing boy. he didn't have to worry about clothes or skincare. he didn't have to watch what he ate.

he was a growing boy.

who cared if he ate half a dozen donuts in one sitting? he was a growing boy.

who cared if all he did was run a few steps in baseball and eat like a chipmunk all the while remaining the same? he was a growing boy!

who cared if he could burp and sneeze loudly, sit like he'd bought the planet, and go outside at night?

.. certainly not you.

but sometimes you wish -

"it's so fucking hot." mark mumbled, hanging off your bed, voice muffled around his - seventh? - donut.

you stared down at the bowl of cotton candy grapes on your lap.

your teeth ached with need.

- . . you were a. . it was easier.

"yeah." you said, squeezing one of the grapes between your index and thumb until the flesh oozed out, shiny and sticky. "i know."

"you almost done?" he asked, turning onto his stomach and wiping the icing off his hands onto your bedding.

the homework sheets in front of you were nearly done. but you'd need a lot more time to finish homework for the both of you. you wonder if your parents knew that mark coming over to do homework just consisted of him distracting you while you did the work.

and maybe they did.

they were always so forgiving to people who weren't you.

in their eyes, you'd ask for advice if he was really taking advantage of you. and none of that whiny complaining of him being too rough, either.

you should've known what you were getting yourself into when you befriended a boy.

boys will be boys. right?

then, he doesn't know his own strength when you were mad at him when one of his playful shoves sent you staggering in front of his friends.

or, he was trying to be funny! lighten up. when he'd grabbed you and groped at your fleshy sides - also in front of his friends.

and most importantly, the two of you had been best friends for so long, there was no reason why something as innocent as you doing a couple of favors for him could cause such turmoil.

you should be nicer to him. i mean, how many other friends do you have?

and that's what the excuses were about.

your parent(s) felt indebted to him. after all, they didn't have the energy to deal with the tides of your mental state: the complex emotions, highs and lows, that only seemed to become that much more apparent as you entered your teenage years.

you imagined how they must’ve thought of you.

it couldn't be that much different than how everyone else did.

mark is so patient, so good at babysitting poor, socially inept you.

but as long as they didn't have to do the heavy lifting, they figured letting mark keep you was their safest bet. it did you good. mark didn't seem burdened. if anything, he seemed happy. he enjoyed taking care of you. and you knew he did. in fact, when he wasn't around his friends. . he was the mark you grew up with.

kind of.

he was still into the same stuff: comics and superhero movies. as long as it was just the two of you. . it wasn't that bad. he cared for you. and he'd show he wasn't all gone when he'd warned you about boys - who, ironically, seemed to perfectly describe his friend group. 

don't date them, he'd say, and it reminded you of when you'd gotten that ring pop and he told you you were his.

his protective demeanor wasn't a problem when he had the strength of a six year old. but mark wasn't six anymore. the jealous fits weren't as endearing. he was rowdier. moodier. and he'd grown into his body. . meaning he had the mass to back his words up.

but you weren't cowed by him. not much, anyway.

which caused you to push away the pile of homework and snap, "why don't you do your own fucking homework? it's too much."

you knew the most mark would do was sulk and pout. that's all he ever did when you'd be preoccupied with other things. . or grouped with the opposite sex. but there'd be moments in which you'd caught the flicker of darkness in his eyes whenever the two of you had a disagreement.

when you said no.

"i'm tired after baseball." he said, slowly, like it's something you were supposed to know.

"yeah, well, i'm tired, too!" you huffed.

"yeah? of doing what?"

"of thinking for the both of us."

"you calling me dumb?"

"you said it." you muttered under your breath, doodling onto the page to distract you from the annoyance bubbling inside you.

you didn't notice him getting up. he'd have a habit of sneaking up on you. maybe he was just quiet. or you were just too absent minded to notice. but either way, before you knew it, you were lifted off the floor from around your waist.

you don't even get a chance to react before he pinned you to your bed. the shock causing your face to grow hot before you begin to thrash beneath him, spitting out insults and trying to hit him in any soft spot you could.

but he was faster, stronger.

repeating, "i'm stupid?" while fighting you off like it was nothing.

he'd always had better stamina, and soon, you're tired and pinned beneath him.

and then he. .

just froze above you.

mark's world had gone still. he could sense everything. the air shifted around him and all his attention landed on you. he could feel weak throbbing beneath the palm of his hands as he held your wrists in a two handed grip above your head.

he could smell your perfumed skin. hear the blood soaring through your veins. the heat from your face warmed him like a furnace. and the realization slammed into him like a freight train.

he'd gotten his powers.

you'd brought them out of him.

“um. can I get up now?” you'd whispered from beneath him, flustered. your eyes narrowed towards your door, the one your parent(s) demanded you to keep open at all times.

mark blinked.

then, shuffled off of you with burning cheeks.

you watched him hastily sling his school bag over his shoulder and waddle out of the room. confused, you called after him - you had a test to study for for christ's sake! - but he didn't stop.

you scrambled after him.

but like years before, you couldn't keep up.

he was gone before you even made it out into the hallway.

CHAPTER 3

[amiserableseriesofevents]

Hi! If you have no other clegan requests, then I would like this:

"good. now you know what it's like."

(prompt list by @novelbear  - reactions to making someone cry)

Hello dear! I haven't forgotten about you, I just had to sort out and post Chapter 14 of Such stuff before diving into this 🥰 I hope you'll enjoy the angst 😗

1.9k of Angst, Emotional Hurt/No Comfort below the cut

Major Gale Cleven marries his longtime sweetheart, Marjorie Spencer, less than a month after his return to the US after the war. The bride is splendid and radiant and the groom looks as handsome as ever in his uniform — no one needs to know that it doesn't feel right anymore on his body, that the belt's been latched two holes tighter than before the war, that he still feels cold even if it's summer and he's dressed in wool.

Major John Egan, Cleven's best friend, is absolutely charming in his role of best man. He flirts with bridesmaids and old ladies alike, dances dutifully with all the bride's friends that ask him, he laughs, and drinks only a few glasses of whiskey to celebrate — no one needs to know that his hands keep shaking whenever he tries to stay still, that there's a flask tucked into his breast pocket filled with nasty liquor that makes his eyes water every time he takes a sip from it, that his heart is bleeding in his chest for the same exact reason he should be celebrating today.

The bride asks him for a toast, at some point. John forces himself to ignore the spark of worry in the blue depth of the groom's eyes as he stands, clears his throat and raises a glass.

He tells the wedding party tales about the groom. How he once landed a plane with all four engines busted. How he once danced with a dog while completely sober at a party. How he never used to drink anything stronger than a ginger beer but had to take care of drunk comrades too many times to count — and he knows that pretty well, him being the drunk comrade Gale would always take care of. How he is the best man sweet Marge could possibly wish for cause he never gave up on the thought of being reunited with her, not even in the darkest of times.

(What he doesn't say: how the groom had kissed him the night after that nightmare of a flight to Algeria, a kiss with blood and desperation in their mouths, a kiss that had made John feel alive for the first time in months.

How him dancing with Meatball was actually a weird way for Gale to apologize to John for having refused his invitation to go to London together, because he knew what John wanted to do and he wasn't ready to give that to him yet — nevermind all the other kisses they'd shared in abandoned haylofts and dark corner, nevermind all those times they'd found comfort in each other's bodies, nevermind that John had almost sunk on his knees and begged him to go, right there, in front of everyone.

How John had almost drunk himself to death the day Buck went down, and when that didn't kill him he'd driven a jeep drunk out of his mind and then tried to stay on his burning plane to be blown out of the sky and go back to the man he loved.

How his Buck never gave up on the thought of marrying Marge, not even in the darkest days of a bleak German winter, but that didn't stop him to find comfort once again in Bucky's arms, in his mouth, along the sharp lines of his body, between his shaky legs.

How he knows with excruciating precision every sound the groom will make tonight during his wedding night, every whimper and moan, every shaky breath, every whispered curse and breathy laugh.)

John tries to leave the wedding without even saying goodbye but Gale knows him too well. He catches up with him in the parking lot, thanks him wearily for his beautiful toast.

“I forgot to add one thing,” John tells him, because now he really doesn't have anything left to lose. “That I love you, more than anything in the world.”

Gale doesn't say anything back to him, maybe he hopes the sadness in his eyes will be enough.

It's not. John leaves, and doesn't look back.

—

The happy marriage between Gale and Marjorie Cleven crumbles apart in less than one year.

They'll say it was because of the war, that Gale didn't come back as he was before and they couldn't work out anymore.

They'll say it was because of the children, Marge wanted them but Gale never seemed sure enough to actually try, fearing he'd unlock something ugly buried deep inside him, the venom of his father dripping through.

They'll never tell the truth: Gale is in love with someone else. Marge doesn't know who — she had a hunch, but Gale refused to listen to her trying to talk about that, said she wouldn't understand because she wasn't there, she doesn't know. Still, she rightfully refuses to play second fiddle in her own wedding; she gives him the ring back, packs a suitcase and goes home to her parents.

Gale goes home too; not to Casper, Wyoming, nor in South Dakota. He drives a whole day and a whole night to Manitowoc, Wisconsin. To the only place he's ever truly felt at home: with John.

He doesn't have an address so he asks around town if anyone knows where Major Egan lives. A nice lady points him to where the the Egans are staying; Gale doesn't think too much of that weird plural, he figures John's still with his mom and sister as he thinks about what to do after.

He rings the doorbell, practicing in his mind what he's going to tell John once he sees him again.

It's a blonde woman that opens the door, tall and with piercing blue eyes but not the same shade of John's — not his sister, Gale's mind provides.

She looks equally surprised to see him. “Can I help you, Sir?” She asks.

Gale goes through the motions. “Good morning, Ma'am. I'm sorry to disturb you, I'm looking for Major John Egan. We served together, I was passing by and wanted to say hello.”

The woman smiles at his words, almost relieved. “Of course! Any friend of Bucky is welcome here. Bucky! There's someone at the door for you.”

“If it's the pastor I swear I'm going to tell him-” John's familiar voice echoes through the narrow entryway behind the woman as he walks to the door, adjusting his tie, but the words die on his lips as he sees Gale staring right back at him. “Buck,” he says, voice full of wonder and for a second Gale still thinks it's going to be ok. Then the curve of John's mouth sharpens, the surprise sours in his eyes.

“Buck Cleven, what are you doing here?” He asks him, tone wrong, posture tense.

“I was passing through and thought about stopping by,” Gale says, glad now more than ever to have left his duffle bag in the car. “How are you? It's been a while.”

“It sure has,” John says. “I've been good, thank you Buck.” Then his gaze shifts to the woman, like he's just now noticing her here. “Oh, what a disgrace I am! I forgot to properly introduce you two. Jo, this is Buck, one of my best pals from the war. Buck, this is Jo. My wife.”

Those two words lodge themselves into Gale's heart.

“Oh. I didn't know you got married, congratulations", he tells John, voice strangled, hands fisted at his sides.

“Yeah, it's been a short engagement but what can I say, when you know you know, right Buck?”

Gale nods. “Right. Well, I better go now, I don't want to make you late for work. Jo, it's been a pleasure to meet you,” he says, and retreats to his car. He hears hushed voices behind him and tries to walk faster, but the door closes and John reaches him just before he can open the door to his car.

“Buck,” John says again, harsher this time. “Buck, look at me.”

Gale exhales and turns. “What?” He asks, chin raised in defiance.

“Why are you here?”

“Marge left. We couldn't make it work, the war changed too many things. It changed me, too much,” Gale says then he adds, “She knew.”

“She knew what?”

“That I'm in love with someone else. That I'm in love with you,” Gale spits out, cheeks getting hotter and hotter by the minute. It's getting harder to breathe and to keep the stinging in his eyes at bay; he fails, John's face in front of him suddenly blurry.

“Are you crying?” John asks. When Gale doesn't answer, he talks again. “Good. Now you know what it's like.”

“Did you marry her just to spite me?” Gale asks, outraged. “Were you just waiting for me to cave?”

“No, Buck. I married her because she's a nice woman, she treats me well, and she doesn't really care if I had someone else before or during the war.”

“She fucking looks like me.”

“That's a plus,” John admits. “She's also a pilot, so. And she's my wife, and we've been talking about building a family.”

“And what about me?”

“What?”

“What about the fact that I fucking love you?” Gale almost shouts, remembering at the last second that they're not alone in the world — there's also Bucky's wife, apparently, and their neighbors. The words come out of him in a strangled whisper, more tears now running freely down his cheeks.

John laughs. “You know, I could do exactly what you did when I told you that at your wedding. But I know what that felt like, so I won't. I'm going to tell you things exactly how they are: I loved you, I loved you so much. You broke my heart and moved on, and I had to move on too. I have a wife, I love her. I love you less, but I still love you. There's no place in my life for you, not now, not like this.”

Gale feels like he's breathing molten led, not air. “And what am I supposed to do?” He asks.

There's sadness in John's eyes now, and something too akin to love not to make Gale's heart ache. “I don't know, Buck. You'll have to figure it out. It's better this way, I promise.”

“But I love you,” Gale tries again. This time, John yields and hugs him.

“I love you too,” he murmurs in Gale's ear. “But we cannot make it work. I am so sorry, Buck, so fucking sorry.”

It's not your fault, Gale thinks. It's mine.

He extricates himself from John's hold. “There's nothing to be sorry about,” he mumbles. “I'll be fine. And if you ever need me for something, anything, you just have to call, ok? Anything, I mean it.”

(What he doesn't say: if you ever get tired of her, if you ever want to pick things back up from where we left them, if you ever feel lonely or bored one day, call me and I'll be there, waiting for you, atoning the sin of having let you go.)

John's always read him like an open book. “Thank you, Buck. I'll see ya,” he says, and goes back to his house — to his wife.

But Gale reads him perfectly too, and he knows one thing for sure: sooner or later, he'll be back.

Now it's his turn to sit and wait.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: intrusive thoughts of sexual nature, sexual behaviour growing up. Mentions of wanting sa and self destructive behaviours.

I would like support, reassurance and resources on how to tackle this if possible. The main issue is having potentially intrusive thoughts about sex, making me want to be assaulted. Let me preface this by saying: I know it is wrong. Realistically I do not want this but I am also really self destructive. I hate how my brain instantly goes into a spiral whenever these types of situations are mentioned. I feel like my head isn't screwed in right.

When I was growing up I remember learning how to masturbate at a prepubescent age - which made me feel dirty and gross as is. I believe it is important to note that I was a social pariah too and desperately craved under any circumstances to feel close to people. A lot of the people I knew growing up told me about the dangers of strangers, but growing up I wanted to be groomed and assaulted because as someone who no one liked I wanted to feel loved. I wanted to feel pretty even though I knew deep down this was not the case at all. I felt disgusted at myself for thinking this - all still when I was really young.

It got to the point that I used to feel some form of unjustified jealousy when others shared me their experiences. Like, obviously by god I hope it never happens to anyone, and if it does I am extremely sorry and I know how this ask may be triggering. But my brain keeps circling back to these thoughts, without any of my control. I think I have been struggling with intrusive thoughts since forever, not just about sex but also about self destructive behaviours in general.

Important things to add. I grew up with a very poor self image. I thought I was ugly and still am, objectively now, ugly. My childhood was just fine, no assault ever happening. And I feel disgusted at myself for wanting this. Part of me isn't even like "oh this is a fantasy" my brain just goes "oh this should have happened to you, why didn't it happen to you? Are you not worthy? Are you not evil enough? You need to be punished in their place, why are your friends and family being punished this way and not you?"

Please. For the love of god do not judge me. I already am doing that a lot myself. I just feel like I can't control my thoughts and I am disgusted because I hope they are intrusive thoughts that I can't control and not a part of me. I'm conflicted.

Tldr: I was never assaulted or molested or at all abused growing up. Regardless my brain gives me intrusive thoughts about being SA'd or wanting to be SA'd even though I have no reason to (trauma response, reclaiming control and consent, etc)

Thank you for your time.

Hi anon,

Please remember that we are not professionals and do not substitute professional advice, so be aware that my interpretation of your situation is subject to bias and inaccuracy, and I ultimately recommend explaining this to a therapist if possible.

My first thought is that you could be repressing something in early childhood. It's not always a sign of sexual abuse for prepubescent children to discover masturbation because part of childhood development is discovering your genitals. But on top of wanting to be sexually abused or groomed, that is often a trauma response when you've normalized abuse to the extent that it feels odd without it, or to the extent that you've been consumed by the illusion of a loving connection that a groomer tries to construct. I'm curious about how you were aware of sexual abuse and grooming at such a young age, and the dynamics of that illusory affection (Stranger Danger is possible but it doesn't completely explain the aforementioned dynamic).

That being said, there is no certainty of something being repressed and it's likely that there genuinely is nothing there, like you've expressed. This could be adjacent to "sadfishing" which is when you basically fish for sympathy and compassion from others. It's something people do when they feel lonely or invisible. It can attract online predators who recognize these perceived weaknesses. While it's not that you necessarily made anything up, it seems like there are similarities with feeling lonely, invisible, and attracting predators (or trying to).

It seems, in my opinion, that the most likely scenario is that you might have some kind of earlier trauma that you feel isn't nearly as severe or worth sympathy as sexual abuse, and so seeking sexual abuse could be a way to feel valid as a survivor. I think the key here is that you mentioned being a social pariah and desperately craving closeness, indicating you may have been deprived of this. Possibly even some neglect playing a role in that. Neglect isn't always so "acute" as something like sexual assault, meaning it can be more of a dull ache than a sharp pain. Neglect is more of a chronic thing than an isolated incident like assault. But it can have just as much, if not more of an impact than assault. Just because you weren't assaulted in childhood doesn't necessarily mean your childhood was fine - there may have been other things you're overlooking.

Like I said earlier, if you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could get to the bottom of this and thoroughly examine your history to best explain your behaviors in that period of your life. If anyone has any comments or suggestions, please feel free to add on, otherwise I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[kasaneteto]

been thinking about this guy a lot. dont read under the cut if you dont want persona 4 spoilers or dont want to hear me talk about how i used to wish this guy would do nasty things to me because of my trauma

first of all this is not a character analysis this is my very personal relationship with the character. second of all this is normally the kind of thing i would put on my private instagram but my roommate is currently playing p4 & i dont want him to get spoiled. so sorry that youre subjected to this i guess. anyways.

recently something ive realized about myself is that i am a HOPELESS romantic. i require something to pour my affections into. & if that isnt a person WELL its gonna be a fictional character. for me the adachi blorboism started right after i ended my first real “relationship”. i say “relationship” because it was less of that and more of me being groomed by a guy 5 years my senior. unfortunately, this guy was what got me into persona. he asked me to watch the p4 anime with him and that was it for me lmfao.

so wtf does that have to do with adachi. well i didnt think it had ANYTHING to do with him until recently. being in therapy has allowed me to really dissect the way my environment has manifested in my behaviors and atp im confident in saying that getting groomed is pretty much the reason i love adachi so much. groomer man was the literal definition of a nice guy, like i made a nice guys finish last joke to him once & his actual response was “but it’s true though…” and he was SO bummed when adachi was revealed to be the mastermind. he was all “ooouuhhhh it sucks because he was such a good character before that”

so i got out of that relationship, had clarity over the fact that he had been manipulating me the entire time, got my hands on my own copy of p4 (i had still only seen the anime & played arena atp) and when i got to adachi’s monologue i was like. THIS GUY IS AWESOME!!!! HOW IS HE A WORSE CHARACTER FOR THIS!!!! im realizing now that travis (groomer) probably felt very attacked by adachi’s motives. & not only that but that i felt very comforted by how blatantly evil he is. that sounds really weird so let me explain.

i saw (& honestly still see) adachi as someone who’s a product of his environment. he felt trapped & suffocated by inaba, felt mistreated by his superiors at work, and with being given access the tv world found something that he felt he could control, which was fun for him in a world of boredom, of which he felt like the victim. i related a lot to that feeling of being trapped somewhere you can’t escape from (both because of my relationship & at the time living with my parents) and really appreciated his fucked outlook on life. not like. the misogyny part. just the whole “life only favors the lucky ones” sentiment. i also saw him as a much more honest & self-aware version of travis. he knew he was doing bad things to people who didn’t deserve it, and his justifications were just “i was bored”. unlike my ex who probably still sees himself as a victim

idk! i guess the takeaway here is that there’s still so much more to me than i know. im learning new things about myself every day. im very glad to finally be on this journey of self-discovery. ive always been a really introspective person but i dont think i ever asked myself WHY? why am i like this. like actually. so im doing that now. & the answers are actually pretty fucked up! ive always played down my trauma because its what my parents and a lot of my peers did. my “best friend” as a kid (she was honestly just a bully) didn’t believe me when i told her that my parents fought. like it was so much worse than i allowed myself to believe. i played down getting groomed because I wasn’t like r*ped or anything (he touched me with my permission but no insertion happened idk if that counts as r*pe) but whenever i tell people that my parents were not only okay with it but allowed him to come visit me from Canada and STAY AT MY HOUSE….they are always shocked. because thats so fucked up! like… what!

alright ive really gone off the rails with this but in conclusion: adachi is a piece of shit and thats why i love him. he’s my disgusting babygirl. my awful little mongrel anime husbando. & you dont get him like i do

[belonareyna]

When I started reading AFTG there were two characters that I did not like or dislike. They were there for a purpose and that was okm their purpose fulfilled and that was fine.

They were Renee (yeah, scream, I'm going to hell anyway) and Aaron.

And then I fully entered into the aftg fandom and suddenly Aaron was pictured as homophobic in a lot of fanfics and texts and I thought it was a generalized head cannon. But then Sir and King introduced me into the extra content. Because I read an Andreil fanfic where they were and I was like no way someone just named this cats like this in a hurt/comfort and no humoristic fanfic. So I search them and i founded Nora extra content.

And I found out that Andrew was misogynist and Aaron homophobic, like canonical.

And I was like WTF?

I must say that I read the books in English which is not my first language, so I thought that maybe I was skipping something. I read them again, but I couldn't find evidence. Maybe I was too deep into the plot.

Never mind, Aaron wasn't a character I cared about anyway.

But then Idk why I was just watching antiAaron things. Not only about his homophobia but also about how he was horrible and terrible towards Andrew.

Excuse me sir?

THEY ARE HORRIBLE WITH EACH OTHER (apart from a toxic relationship).

Like that time "Maybe he's afraid she'll die on him like the last woman he really loved."

Oh sorry, everyone is so OK with Andrew killing Tilda. And I wouldn't be honest if I said that I wasn't OK with it either. But you know. I try to emphasize with Aaron's situation. He wasn't even mentioning Tilda. They were talking about Katelyn. But Andrew knew were to attack for it to hurt.

And I'm not trying to spread hate towards Andrew for God's sake he's my third favorite character (just Neil and Matt above him) but it infuriate me that whenever I came to any content hating Aaron for being canonically homophobic have nothing to sat about Andrew being canonically misogynist.

So I said to myself ok Val, just read again the books pay a lot of attention. Maybe they are homophobic and misogynist respectively.

So I read the books. Again I couldn't see anything. And you know. I started defending Aaron (you know bc no one was messing with Andrew. If not I would do exactly the same with him) and making an analysis on his character, but after some time and reading a lot of bad stuff posted by lots of people I started feeling insecure.

I'm bisexual, Was me actually defending a FUCKING HOMOPHOBIC? Like no a more grown up Aaron who has learned and drop his homophobia (it can happen baby. You can be homophobic and then through education and self work and friends you can get rid of that horrible illness called homophobia. My best friend for instance)

So today I said OK, lets see If I can found someone with actually evidences on all of this.

And oh men. The first tumbrl post I read made me feel like the first time someone tried defending Severus Snape of bullying literal child's. And joining the wizard Nazi club.

It had screen shots, so I was like oh shit, it's real I fucked up. This one has evidence and I'm really bad at English if all of this (it has a lot of screen shots) has past my filter. And then I started reading and with just the first one I was fuming

Yeah... so everybody knew that Kevin had a girlfriend, and yes I don't approve or think TheaxKevin is a good or healthy relationship. It stands between that thin line of pedophilia and grooming. But that's not the point. The point is that Nicky is literally sexual harassing not just Kevin but also Neil. And yeah. IT'S CREEPY.

The next screen shot made me even more furious:

And they just say "Aaron about Nicky offering to have a threesome with Neil and Erik"

The scene itself infuriate me. Because it's AGAIN sexual harassment, and in a non appropriate place to say the least. And not with an appropriate crowd (his COUSIN).

Was Nicky being fucking weird? Yes.

I don't know how extended is this word to insult the LGBT+ Comunity so I'm not going to defend it. So yeah, It could be a hint of Aaron homophobia or Aaron asking his cousins to cut the crap.

Oh. You don't want to know anything about your brother hooking up with your ex-boss? Well that's weird. I would love to know all the details.

Anddd yeah. This could be homophobia or Aaron hate towards Neil. And if I hadn't readed the times three times I would have choose the homophobia.

But just watching Neil's and Aaron interactions (for three times. Four bc now I'm reading them in Spanish) is more the latest option (at least for me).

Now. I'm not going to share the cabin scene. Because we all hated Aaron in that one and in my personal opinion he was being the same shit to Neil as Andrew was to Katelyn later.

And yeah. Calling a Neil a rapist is not the same as calling Katelyn a tumor. But Andrew has lived through a lot, and I get Aaron trying to find out if his brother was being forced by Nein in any way.

So yeah. I was shock to say the least about how a lot of explanations of Aaron being homophobic was literally trying to stop Nicky in his sexual harassment thing.

But yes. There were scenes potentially homophobic down there. But I couldn't just buy it. Because if Aaron is homophobic how it comes that the person he is closer to is Nicky. Shouldn't it be Kevin?

If he is so homophobic why he stepped between when Seth insulted Nicky?

[duchesschameleon]

i’m only looking at you

summary: “When you know you’ve found the woman you want to start a life with, don’t waste time telling her how you feel. Get a ring on her finger, tell her you want a life with her, whatever you gotta do to get that future started. Make it clear and start setting those roots together.”or, the advice Javy Machado should have followed before he stood up in church. Better late than never, though? pairing: javy “coyote” machado/natasha “phoenix” trace, background bradley “rooster” bradshaw/jake “hangman” seresin warnings: teen & up, alcohol mentions a/n: well, I finally wrote an interrupted wedding fic! this is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own find this fic on ao3

His dad’s advice echoes in his head, the way it always does when Javy’s thoughts turn toward the future.

“When you know you’ve found the woman you want to start a life with, don’t waste time telling her how you feel. Get a ring on her finger, tell her you want a life with her, whatever you gotta do to get that future started. Make it clear and start setting those roots together.”

Those words echo louder and stronger when he thinks about a future with Natasha.

It had happened when they first met and started seeing each other as a natural consequence of Hangman and Rooster being together. And when that relationship fell apart, effectively ending the relationship Javy had with Natasha, he felt a hollow space in his chest. He knew then that Natasha was who he wanted to spend his life with.

But here she is, a subtle but still gorgeous ring on her left hand.

Javy sighs and hangs his head. He knows he should go over to her and fiancée, congratulate them and just rip the bandaid off. Get it over with so he can get back to drowning his sorrows in the strongest beer Penny has on tap and whatever liquor she’s willing to give him. But going over there means putting an end to his dreams and plans, means admitting his father was right and he should have spoken up sooner. Maybe when they were all in North Island two years ago for the special detachment.

If he’d spoken up then, she wouldn’t have had the chance to meet Michael and fall in love with him. She wouldn’t have had the chance to marry someone other than him.

But he’d kept his mouth shut and now, they’re here. So Javy heaves another sigh and downs the rest of his current drink before getting up to congratulate the happy couple.

—

 Eight Months Later

Javy stands outside the church, off to the side as he tries to calm his nerves enough to go inside and join his friends.

God, he’s not drunk enough for this.

Actually, he doesn’t think there’s enough liquor in the world he could consume that would make him ready to attend Natasha Trace’s wedding as a guest.

He can’t even believe he made the guest list, thought for sure he’d get left off. But nope, he’s got the invitation in his hands. Because for some reason, he thought it would be a good idea to come to her wedding.

Javy will maintain he was drunk or just not thinking straight when he RSVP’d yes to the wedding. Jake and Bradley - who are now actually together and happy - fix him with twin arched eyebrows whenever the topic comes up.

There must be some twisted place in the back of his mind that thinks if he can’t be at Nat’s wedding as the groom, he should be there as a guest. He should be there for her, watch as this chapter of his life comes to a close.

So he’s here, outside the church, and seriously debating if he’s hit his head too many times.

“Getaway car is ready to go if you need it, Javy,” Jake says, coming up behind him.

“Yeah, whatever you need man, we’re here,” Bradley says from over his other shoulder.

Javy just shakes his head. “No, I said I was gonna be here, and I gotta do this,” he says resolutely. “I need to see her happy and married to close the chapter of my life with her. I just need to know she’s happy and doing the right thing for her.”

Bradley and Jake look at each other and nod behind Javy’s back. No matter what Javy is saying now, if he needs out of there, they’ve got him. They won’t let him do this alone.

Following Javy’s lead, the three head into the church and find seats in a pew towards the back. Javy’s knee bounces, the only outward sign of his nervousness, and he wills it to stop. Wills himself to be calm, reminds himself that this is the right thing to do. That today is about Natasha, about her being happy. And that’s all he wants for her.

He’d prefer it if she was happy with him, but he’ll take what he can get. Natasha’s happy and going to live a good life, that’s what matters. He’ll deal with his own sorry ass later.

The church is filling up, family and friends from the bride and groom sitting in the pews and chatting amongst each other. Until the music starts and everyone falls silent as the doors at the back of the church open up and the bridal party starts their march down the aisle and the groom steps up to the altar.

The music changes and everyone stands, looks towards the back of the church and Javy takes a breath to steel himself to see Natasha in her wedding dress.

She looks gorgeous, almost ethereal and Javy feels his breath catch. She’s gorgeous and she’s everything he’s ever wanted and he can feel the memories he has with her creeping into his brain.

He floats through the wedding, half-paying attention and half in this dreamlike state, his brain inundating himself with memories of Natasha and him at the beach, walking around base together brushing hands, holding hands at the bar just off base. All these snippets of their relationship, the moments he wanted to tell her how he felt, that he imagined a future with her, interspersed with moments of his hand running down her skin, flashes of warmth from how they’d be pressed together, the feeling of her moving under him, above him, around him, those vulnerable moments together where the world fell away and it was just them.

He’s not certain where in the ceremony they are. He’s not certain if he can make it through the whole thing. He’s not even certain he’s fully in control of his body right now.

But then he hears the preacher say those fateful words: “If anyone feels these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Javy snaps back to the present, painfully aware of the silence and the stillness in the church. The peace he’s about to interrupt because he can’t let Natasha do this.

He’d promised her once before that he’d always be honest with her, and in the same breath he told her how much he wanted her. He’s always prided himself on keeping his promises, so he has to do this.

That’s what he tells himself as he stands up.

“I object.”

He can feel Jake tugging on his suit jacket, trying to get him to sit down but the words are out now. Javy can’t take them back.

Every head in the church has whipped around to look at him. The entire bridal party, all the guests, everyone is looking at him like he’s crazy. Callie’s brow is furrowed he can see out of the corner of his eye, but his focus is on Natasha.

Natasha who’s looking at him with wide eyes, her jaw dropped. He can’t tell from back here if she’s mad at him or not, if she’s surprised he’s in the church, if she’s happy to see him. He doesn’t even care at this point. He has to be honest with her, honest with himself, and say this finally. Even if she doesn’t come with him, he has to do this.

“Natasha, Nat,” he starts, shaking Jake and Bradley’s hands from off him as he moves toward the aisle. “I’m sorry I’m late. I’m sorry I’m late to saying this, that I haven’t been honest with you. I told you I’d always tell you the truth, and I’ve been keeping this from you for too long.”

He hears the whispers from the guests, the annoyed and worried words of “why, why now, what’s happening” but he ignores them.

“I need to be honest with you, you deserve that, and if you don’t want this, don’t want what I’m offering, then I’ll go and I’ll stay out of your life,” he says, trying his best to make sure Natasha knows she can do what she needs to do. What she wants to do. He won’t make her do something she doesn’t want.

“I love you, Natasha. I’ve always loved you. And I never should have let things fall apart between us,” he confesses. “You’ve always been it for me, the woman I love and see a future, a life with. One even beyond the Navy. And I know my timing here sucks, but I promised you long ago that I’d be honest with you, so I have to do this. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner, that I kept it to myself. But I’m saying it now. I love you, Natasha. I’m in love with you.”

He’s close enough to the altar now to see the warring emotions in her eyes. The hope as she looks at him, the softness that was familiar to him from all those years before, and the confusion as she looks at Michael. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Callie wiping away a tear, a small smile on her face. It’s the little bit of strength he needs to focus on Natasha again and ask her an important and probably ill-timed question.

“Nat, my timing sucks. You every reason to tell me no. And I respect that. But I have to ask you this, will you come with me? Build a life with me, have a future with me? I love you, and I want it all with you, if you’ll come with me.”

She looks back and forth between him and Michael. Looks out to her parents, out at the whole church.

Then her eyes meet his, and he can see her melt. See her shoulders drop into a more relaxed position as she smiles at him. She gives him a little nod before she turns back to Michael.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Javy’s heart is pounding in his ears, he can’t believe this. “You know I love you, and you know that I have to do this.” She slips off the engagement ring, hands it back to Michael, giving his hand a squeeze before turning back to all the guests.

“I’m sorry everyone,” she says, voice loud and strong. “I made a promise to someone, long ago, to always tell the truth. And I made a promise to myself to always follow my heart. The reception hall will still have food, you can go and enjoy that. But, uh. The wedding is off.”

She steps down from the altar and crosses the few steps to Javy. He reaches out a hand, heart still pounding and when she takes it, all feels right in the world again. He smiles at her, and she returns it.

They don’t need to say a word, they just make their way out of the church. The guests are in a shocked silence and Javy knows that there’s going to be fallout from this. He knows there will be hell to pay from her family, her brothers who he’d met once are going to wonder why the hell he waited until the last possible second to say something, her parents are going to wonder what the hell Natasha was thinking, and that doesn’t even begin to cover how their friends are going to react.

Which, Jake and Bradley are standing at the edge of the pew he’d been sitting in not even five minutes ago.

“So, you guys still up for driving the getaway car?”

And so the four of them exit the church and climb into Jake’s car, and there’s a part of Javy that gets a flash of deja vu, remembers nights from years ago when he’d gotten into this car with these friends and driven off base, the four of them against the world.

Nat squeezes his hand and he looks over to her.

“You still here with us?” she asks.

“I’m right here with you.”

“Good.”

“So,” Bradley says from the front seat, turning to look at them in the back. “When do you expect your phone’s going to start blowing up?”

“Oh my god, I’m sure it’s already blowing up but it’s back at the church,” she laughs. “All my stuff is there or at the hotel.”

“Do we need to make a detour? Call someone to get it for you?” Jake asks. “We didn’t exactly plan for this, but I’m sure we can get something together quickly, a rendezvous point to get your things.”

“I had a plan. Have a plan, actually,” Natasha says, matter of factly. “Rooster, give me your phone. I just need to text Callie and Bob. They’ll get my stuff and we can meet them.”

“You had a plan?” Javy asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I had a little hope that you’d say something. That you still…still love me, still want me,” she admits softly. “Michael knew, he knows that I loved him, that I do love him, but that it’s different than how I love you. He knows I’m still in love with you, that I never stopped being in love with you, and he knew that if you said something, today or earlier, that I would…” she trails off and takes a deep breath, turning to face Javy and meet his eyes. “I told him that if you said something, if you told me you still love me, there wasn’t a choice to make. I would go with you, because it’s always been you at the end of the day, Javy. Even when I couldn’t tell you that’s how I felt, and then I let myself feel uncertain if you felt the same way, it’s always been you. I could have been happy with Michael, I would have been, but I knew and he knew, if there was a chance to be with you, I had to take it.”

Jake’s stopped the car at this point, pulled over to the shoulder and turned in his seat to look at Natasha.

“So you and Michael got engaged and went into this whole thing knowing that if Javy said anything, you’d leave him? You’d go with Javy and leave Michael?” Natasha nods, eyes wary and guarded. “And he was totally okay with this? With putting all this effort into planning a wedding that could fall apart and did, the moment Javy pulled his head out of his ass?”

“Jake, Michael and I talked about it. He was okay with it. And if Javy didn’t speak up when he did, I would have gone through with the marriage, the wedding, and been happy. Michael does make me happy and he’s good to me, but I’m just not in love with him the same way I’m in love with Javy. And believe it or not, Michael has his version of that. So now he can go chase that. It’s really okay,” she explains.

“You’re incredible,” Javy whispers. “You think of everything, you plan for everything, you’re amazing. I love you.”

She smiles at him, full and bright, eyes crinkling at the corner. “I love you, too.” Javy leans in and kisses her, for the first time in years, and another piece of the puzzle of his life slips into place. Natasha leans back and gives him another smile.

“Ok but, I seriously need someone’s phone to get in touch with Bob and Callie. I need my stuff. And to make sure my family’s okay and not on their way to find me and drag me back down the aisle. I planned for everything but them.”

Javy hands her his phone, his contacts already pulled up. “Call them. And hey, you’ve got me. We’ll handle your family. It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, it’ll be okay. And you’re not in this alone,” Bradley reminds Natasha. “We’ve got your backs, we all do.”

Natasha nods and gives Javy one more kiss before calling Callie. And he just sits back, thinking he’s damn lucky to have fallen in love with Natasha Trace all those years ago and damn lucky she loves him back.

[azrielsbxtch]

“This is it” Hypaxia said gesturing around the apartment.

Lidia stood behind her sister taking in the apartment they would be sharing. She had just moved to Lunathion after living in Pangera her whole life. And she would be attending Crescent City University with her sister and sharing one bathroom apparently.

“What do you think?” Hypaxia asked.

Lidia looked around. “It’s….small”

Hypaxia laughed.

“It’s not what you’re used to but this is the closest thing I could find that wasn’t near a frat house and close to class. You’ll love the convenience it provides trust me”

The apartment had two rooms,a living room,kitchen and one bathroom. It was was the perfect size for a college apartment in Hypaxia’s opinion. But Lidia was used to bigger accommodations. Her place in Pangera had been massive. Whenever Hypaxia visited she always complained about having to walk a mile before getting to the fridge.

“And if you’re still not okay with it,we can go to the palace during the weekend Your Highness”

Lidia rolled her eyes playfully. Pax wasn’t joking. She had a palace because she was the Heir to the Valbaran Witches.

“Let’s go get lunch. Leave your stuff. Someone is coming to unpack everything.”

“No it’s fine. I’ll do it myself.”

Pax eyed the seven large suitcases and glanced at her sister.

“You sure”

“Yeah. Let’s go”

They made their way to one of the cafes that looked like a mixture of a dragon lair and modern coffee shop. The owner was a curious little fae who swore he shared ancestry with dragons which explained the cafe’s theme.

They sat on clawed seats with scaled patterns and began to peruse the menu.

Dragon Scale Chips

Fang Noodles

Marshmallow and Smolder Hot Chocolate

“This is giving me a headache” Lidia muttered.

“You’ll get used to it.”

When they finally placed their orders,Lidia leaned back in her seat - which was surprisingly comfortable and said to Pax “How’s Mother?”

“She’s fine.”

The slight furrow on Hypaxia’s brows told Lidia that all wasn’t well between Hypaxia and their mother. She knew Pax was under a lot of pressure as Heir and while their mother undoubtedly loved them both,she was still a queen with duties. That included grooming Pax into a suitable Heir. Something they always clashed on.

“I might go visit during the weekend.”

“She’s expecting you to.” A pause “She misses you”

Lidia smiled. She was about to reply when someone appeared at their table.

The stranger was tall and red headed.

“Hi Declan” her sister said.

“Hey.”

“Lidia this is Declan my friend.”

“Hello” he said warmly

Lidia gave a little wave.

Declan turned to Pax. “Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Maybe. Will Celestina be there?”

“Maybe” he said smiling.

Hypaxia rolled her eyes and said “I’ll see you later. Save the good snacks for me”

He waved goodbye,took his order and left.

Hypaxia turned to Lidia. “And before you come up with an excuse…you’re going”

“I don’t want to”

“You’re going”

And that was that.

——————————————————————————————

The massive house was the only source of light in the gloomy night. Hypaxia and Lidia trudged up the porch stairs and opened the door. There was no point ringing the bell,the music would drown it out.

Pax led them into the packed house where upon entry ,all you could see where bodies in every corner. Some dancing,some smoking,a lot of drinking and at the far end of the room,a billiard table was set up as people stood around watching the game. It was a stereotypical frat party brought to life.

They walked deeper into the house. Lidia took in the scenes as they walked past. A female faun grinded on a Fae Male. A couple of Fire sprites lounged on a couch giggling to each other. They were clearly high.

“Whose party is this again?” Lidia shouted over the music

“You’ll see” Hypaxia shouted back.

They walked into a smaller room and Hypaxia locked the door behind them. The music immediately cut off. It was still there but at a lower decibel. The room had some sound proofing. Lidia spied four males sitting inside. And one girl.

The guy she met at the cafe smiled when he saw them.

“Hey! You made it”

“Hey everyone. This is my sister Lidia.”

The guys introduced themselves. Ithan,Flynn and Declan. Only one remained and he was currently making out with the girl on his lap oblivious to everything.

Hypaxia rolled her eyes.

“Ruhn do you think you can extricate yourself from Lila for one second?”

The male - Ruhn chuckled softly. Then he patted Lila’s ass and sent her on her way.

“Hello Lidia.” He said still smiling “I’ve heard a lot about you”

“I can’t say the same unfortunately”

Lidia hadn’t meant to be rude. It just popped out. But Ruhn looked anything but offended. A smile creeped up on his face slowly and he looked at her like he’d just come across a challenge he absolutely had to conquer.

The slow predatory way he looked at her almost made her toes curl.

Almost.

He unfurled his body from the couch and Lidia couldn’t help staring at him. He was tall,that was obvious even when he was sitting. His hands were covered in colorful tattoos. Long dark hair buzzed on the side,violet blue eyes,sinful lip ring.. there was no hiding from the fact that Ruhn Danaan,Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae was strikingly handsome.

He walked past her to the wet bar at the other side of room and poured a glass of whiskey. He handed it to her,his eyes simmering with challenge. She rolled her eyes and took the drink then sat down on one of the couches.

One of the guys,Flynn launched into a tale about how he had to jump out of some girl’s window after her father almost caught him.

Lidia tried to listen but she couldn’t ignore Ruhn at her side.

She turned to him and whispered “Do you have any concept of personal space?”

He leaned forward and looked at her curiously. “You don’t look like Pax”

“We’re half sisters. Same mom different dads.”

She looked at his lip ring. “That looks painful”

“Not when I’m kissing someone”

“Do you practice these lines in the mirror every morning?”

Ruhn couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him.

“That’s it. We have to be friends”

“No thanks” she said.

“I’ll wear you down don’t worry”

“Now that would be painful”

——————————————————————————————

Three hours later,Lidia and Pax finally went back home.

Ruhn wouldn’t let Lidia leave until they exchanged numbers. He then offered to drop them home but they declined and used the campus car service. Hypaxia went straight to kitchen. Apparently she’d been craving cereal all night.

Lidia headed to her room and locked the door behind her. Her seven suitcases stared back at her. She started with the smallest one which contained her clothes. The next one contained shoes,jewelry and underwear. When all of that was organized properly,she dragged the remaining five boxes and opened them up one by one.

Five suitcases filled with military grade weapons stared back at her.

She brought out a hand gun,a dagger and a serrated knife. Perfect for tomorrow.

Her phone chimed with a text.

2 minutes

She pulled out her laptop and set it up. 2 minutes later,a familiar face appeared on her screen.

“Agent Day”

“Sevika”

“How’s College?”

“Tiresome”

“You’ll be out soon enough. Any updates?”

“Not yet”

“Have you made contact?”

“Yes”

Sevika paused. “That was quick”

“He threw a party tonight. I was invited”

Sevika nodded.

“Artemis discovered some new intel. The file we’re after is not in any digital space. Knowing the Autumn King he probably has it buried somewhere. He’s very traditional. Focus on locations that have historical value to the Fae”

“Noted”

“Are you sure the boy has knowledge on his fathers affairs?”

“He’s the Prince. He knows something.” Lidia said twirling the knife.

“You look like you’re ready to carve him up with that. No bloody mistakes Lidia. They won’t be happy”

Lidia just smiled and set the knife down.

“The Sovereign wants you back in Pangera. Wrap this up as soon as possible.”

Lidia nodded and cut the call. She logged out of the encrypted site they used to make contact and opened one of the files on her laptop. His beautiful face stared back at her.

Ruhn Danaan.

She already knew everything about him. At least on surface level. She knew he liked to run early in the mornings. He liked his coffee black with one sugar. He volunteered at the shooting range every Tuesday. He had a half sister named Bryce who pretended he didn’t exist and he did everything in his power to piss off his father.

The Sovereign provided her with all this information when she first got this assignment. But this was all rudimentary. She needed more. More knowledge on the inner workings of his life,his mother and his asshole father. Despite their sour relationship she knew his father was grooming him to take over. He had that in common with Hypaxia. Perhaps that was why they were such close friends.

Lidia needed to dig out every little secret in Ruhn’s pretty head.

And it would all start tomorrow.

[rach-punzel]

TW: domestic abuse.

I went to see a movie tonight with themes of domestic violence and honestly it put me in a headspace that I have been desperately trying to escape from the majority of my life. I have spent a lifetime suppressing emotions and trauma in the hopes that it'll go away, that if I wish hard enough I could wish it into never existing in the first place, but the truth is that it's a part of me and has shaped me into who I am and if I don't address it then the shame will never end.

I was in an abusive relationship, on and off, from the ages of fourteen to twenty five with someone five years older than me. I'm twenty seven now which means I spent my entire teenage years loving someone that took every opportunity to abuse me, and a massive chunk of my adult life trying to run from it. I grew up in a house of fear and shame, of neglect and emotional, and sometimes physical, abuse. This made me the prime candidate for him to groom me and make me his victim.

At first, as always, it was picture perfect. I was so young and impressionable and he pulled out all the stops. He bought me my first ever flowers, took me on a real date, like adults do, showed me places I'd never been, taught me things I'd never known, told me that in him I always had a safe space. I'd never had a safe place before. I grew up with slamming doors and screaming matches. Parents using me as a manipulation tactic against each other. My mother reinforcing her generational trauma onto me and creating an eating disorder within me. I never once questioned why he would be interested in me when I was so much younger than him, I thought that I was special and that he must really love me to pick me out of all the other girls he could have had. I thought it was fate. I thought he loved me, like I loved him.

Slowly the abuse crept in. My safe space was pulled out from under me. It wasn't always physical, it was emotional and sexual at first. He manipulated me into doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, even if tears were streaming down my face. Everything had to be on his terms and I had no say in anything. I was so impressionable and I didn't know any better so I thought it was normal. He told me he didn't want to hang out with my friends because "they're silly little girls". I was the youngest of them. I wasn't allowed to have male friends, I couldn't make eye contact with any men in public. I'd have my hand crushed or my wrist pulled, or on nights when I was unluckiest, I'd have my head smashed against the car window or the wall of his room. I couldn't tell a soul what was happening to me because I couldn't register it as abuse. I'd tell myself he's trying to protect me, or he doesn't mean it, or he's having a bad day. I loved him and he loved me, and relationships are hard sometimes right? People hurt the ones they love, by accident, right?

I could be gone for days or weeks at a time from home and nobody would come looking for me. I wouldn't receive a text from my family asking where I was or who I was with, if I was safe. Even if they did, I would have to lie. I should've known things were bad if you have to lie about who you're with. I'd spend so much time at his parent's house where the abuse just intensified. His mother would see me covered in bruises and tell me "that's just how men are" or "you'll need to cover that if you're going home", "if you love him you'll put up with it". I was fifteen and this woman was reinforcing that abuse was normal to me. That her son, her precious son, was having a hard time and he didn't mean it. If I left him it meant I didn't love him. And I did love him. More than anything in the world. I wanted to love him forever, even if it meant enduring this. I still wonder if she regrets those words she said to me. I wonder if she knew that it would affect me for the rest of my life. I wonder if she was the subject of abuse too, and if so, wouldn't she try to stop the cycle with me? How could you justify domestic abuse to a fifteen year old? How could you reinforce that that's something as a woman we just have to accept? I will hold resentment towards her for the rest of my life but there is a massive part of me that feels so sorry for her. I wish I could've saved us both.

As I got older, I knew things weren't right but I still believed that it was my fault for the abuse. That I had caused him to act out, to not trust me, to abuse me. I couldn't breathe without notifying him. He tracked my every move, read my every message. I knew he was dangerous, and I loved him anyway. I chose to put up with the abuse by then because it was all I had ever known, and I couldn't picture my life without him. I couldn't picture a scenario where we wouldn't end up together. I prayed to every God out there, every shooting star, that he would change. That something in him would make him realise he was destroying me. That he would see the damage he was causing. I would pray that he would love me that tiny bit more to want to stop hurting me. If and when he did hurt me, he would make a big show of how apologetic he was. Tears welling in his eyes, "I love you Rach, I'm sorry. I won't do it again" and again, and again. Friends began to pick up on the abuse and they'd give me tough love which only drove me further away from them and closer to him.

The thing with abuse is people don't understand how difficult and dangerous it is to leave the abuse. "Just leave him" ok, he threatened to murder me if I did and I believe he could, so what now? Where do I go? Where do I run? Where do I hide? How do I stop myself from missing him? "Tell the police" ok, and tell them I've put up with this for several years? And then what, everybody finds out and I'm embarrassed? People that embarrass and shame you for experiencing abuse only make it harder to leave because you begin carrying this massive guilt over loving someone that is so capable of hurting you. People will say I've brought it on myself, that I did something to cause the abuse. Or worse, they'll pity me. They'll treat me differently. Suddenly I won't be the friend they can laugh with, they'll tiptoe around me. They won't see me for me, they'll see me as a shell of a girl they thought they knew. They'd judge me for putting myself in danger for the sake of so called love. People will never truly understand how difficult it is to leave until they're the victims. Until their life is at risk. Until there is no more option to forgive, until the only thing they can do is flee and hope and pray this time is the last time and that they'll come out the other end still breathing.

I did finally leave. I tried to at least, a million times. But he would always pull me back in. It could have been pleas and tears or threats, I caved and went back every time. Until I just couldn't anymore. I didn't recognise myself in the mirror, I couldn't bare to look at myself. I was exhausted. If this is what love is then I don't want it. I couldn't keep up appearances anymore. He took everything from me, I had nothing left to give. Every day was a war zone and every fight was scarier than the last. I could not have stayed any longer even if I wanted to. I knew it was only a matter of time before there was no recovery, there was no salvaging, there was no me. He would've went too far.

He stole all those years from me and I had nothing to show for it. I realised that he never loved me, I was just an easy target. He was sick in the mind. If it wasn't me, it would've been any other fourteen year old. It would've been any other impressionable naive teenager that didn't know better.

I have so many conflicted feelings now as a fully grown adult that is able to recognise the abuse and understand that it wasn't love. I feel anger, shame, embarrassment, heart break, disgust. He turned me into a monster. Men are disposable to me, I don't care about them. I will be reckless with their emotions and hurt them first before they ever get a chance to hurt me. I can't trust another man, I won't let anyone close enough to hurt me. I have explained to men before the trauma he inflicted on me, in hopes that they'll understand and know I will never put up with that again, only for them to use that as a way to test my boundaries to see exactly what I will put up with. Men sexualise me on the internet on a daily basis and when I see their messages I'm sick to my stomach, another pawn to another man all over again. Every time I'm in the presence of a man I'm uncomfortable and on edge, I flinch if I see an arm movement. All the while still at times wishing that he could've changed, could've got his act together, and wishing the men I've spent time with were him. I would have rather danced with the devil I knew than the ones I didn't. He was my best friend, and that was the worst part. Just because I knew better didn't mean my feelings for him stopped. I still loved him. In fact, amongst all the anger and disgust, a little part of me will always love the person I thought he could've become.

I would never go back, ever again. And although I battle daily with the scars he left on me, there are parts of me I love that I wouldn't have if I didn't experience that. I wouldn't be confident. I wouldn't be strong minded. I wouldn't be empathetic. I wouldn't have such a strong sense of justice. I wouldnt feel so strongly about my female friendships. I wouldn't know what it's like to love someone so much, and I wouldn't know how to pull myself together after endless heartache. I wouldn't see the beauty in mundane things. I wouldn't feel my heart bursting with joy at every sunset and sunrise. I wouldn't feel the lyrics of songs as deeply as I do. I wouldn't be grateful for the air in my lungs and the sun on my skin.

There have been many nights where I thought I couldn't be without him, and many nights with him that I thought I'd never see another light of day. Sometimes the physical abuse would be so bad that I would wish for him to go that tiny bit further in ending it all so that I wouldn't have to wake up the next day just to cover the bruises to cover his tracks. To avoid making another excuse for him, to skip trying to find any single reason to understand his actions. But actually, at the end of it all, life is beautiful and I'm in love with living. He will never know this version of me. He will never know the songs I love now, or the friends I have, or the meals I can cook, or the parts of the world I've seen. He will never know the hobbies I'm good at, we will never share another moment together. He will never inflict pain on me again. I will never have to flinch ever again. He will never know me again and I have never been more thankful for that than right now in this moment.

[navree]

What's grey about Daemon? I think the Daemon in Grrm's mind is different than the Daemon of F&B because Daemon is so dark like really i fail to see any light parts in him

Being a serial pedo rapist who delights in deflowering the youngest, most innocent maidens of flea bottom's brothels. Biggest achievement of the war is kill 6 years child and cause his niece to lose her mind and kill herself, abandoned his groomed victim/other niece to fuck a teenager girl then go and kill his nephew then dies . And this suppose to be a grey character ? And the fact that his fans deny that he is a pedo is so weird to me i mean at the end of the day he is a fictional character so liking him is not going to make you a pedo yourself , weird people.

I think there's a validity in the Daemon GRRM has in his head being different from the one we see in F&B. F&B is a history book that's not going to be incredibly well detailed on thoughts on feelings, but he is also a character that GRRM dreamt up, and a lot of times, for me at least, even when thinking up random characters they tend to be incredibly full fledged. I have a character in my novels who died prior to the start of the series, and we don't learn much about her for a variety of reasons but I can still tell you a lot about her, just like I can tell you the exact thought process of a character who will be present but not a main character in book 3. Sometimes being a writer is just Like That.

I think Daemon's greyness lies in his potential. He does awful things, and he doesn't seem to be a very good person, but a grey character isn't grey based on whether or not they're in the right, it's about who they are as a person. What we know about Daemon's temperament, as told in F&B, offers a lot, that he's mercurial and quick to anger but can also be moody, short tempered but still incredibly charming, nakedly ambitious but still able to make friends and see the potential in people society wouldn't look twice at like the Gold Cloaks and Mysaria. There's also just a LOT that can be done with Daemon, Daemon as someone who was orphaned incredibly young and likely latched onto his older brother a tremendous amount only to realize that his older brother was kind of a fuck up, who knew that he'd be good at something like being king but was never even given a shot at it, who was close to Viserys more than he was close to anyone but saw their relationship fray due to life circumstances like Viserys's kingship and its affect on Daemon's emotions, someone with his own set of rules in what he deems acceptable but he does have a line, however internal it is. There's a lot that can be done with Daemon being utterly ruthless and borderline megalomaniacal but having the bright and clear line of loving his family more than anything, being utterly devoted to his family above all. Hell, you could even do something with that and the whole thing with Rhaenyra, his own inner fucked uppness combined with just how Targaryens are made to view familial relations and his own love of family and Westeros's really shitty treatment of young women. And of course there's the show's poor little meow meow head touch thing he does whenever he wants affection that I enjoy, as well as the relationship with Caraxes that can and should be expanded on (their scene in episode 3 during the opening battle is a great showcase of that relationship, and the myth that Caraxes screamed in pain when Nettles had to leave Maidenpool).

There's a lot that can be done with Daemon, and there's a lot that can be parsed out about him and what he's done to showcase both good and bad he has in him. He orchestrated the murder of a six year old in a particularly heinous way (though it remains unclear how much of the psychological horror of Blood and Cheese was an order from him or Mysaria and the two of them just being bastards), but still appeared to be genuinely upset that Lucerys was murdered. He's an ass to Rhea for no reason but clearly devoted to Laena, to being her husband and loving her and being upset when she died (in the book at least). He's a highborn with a fixation on Valyrian purity and being king but he does willingly associate with the lower classes and is able to see their worth and have affection for them, as mentioned above with his loyalty from the gold cloaks and his relationship with Mysaria. He cheats on his wife but he still obeys her law as queen, and only defies her explicitly in order to save Nettles's life and make sure that he doesn't put his host in any danger while doing so, and his primary focus does appear to be getting Nettles to safety. He's an utter asshole but he's not just an asshole, there are layers inferred by his actions that can be worked into a personality once you establish a proper narrative, not just a historical textbook.

(none of these are excuses for daemon's more heinous actions, i'm just making myself neutral and pointing out the good bad and ugly of the character, and i'm not gonna try and do an equivalency for the penchant for young girls cuz i don't care if it was socially acceptable, it's still ew)

The problem is that the show did none of that. A lot of my criticisms of the show can be boiled down to me wanting to make it better, to enjoying the bones of what we've got but wanting it desperately to improve and reach its full potential. But Daemon is a missed opportunity in so many ways, bungled so incredibly badly to the point where the only things I like about him are little Matt Smith acting choices, like the head touch or the improvised crown thing. He had potential for an epic grey character, for fleshing out the bad stuff you mentioned in your ask and also the counterbalances I mentioned myself, but no one took it, and instead it's just. Ugh.

It's very ugh.

[mysticalrambling]

Hi!!!!!!! I have a request for you😋

Its something to do with the recent Chris and Lizzo interaction(no hate to her). Can you write something about their recent interaction, like chris and lizzo talking about the baby joke and the internet goes nuts. But what chris doesn't know is that his girlfriend feels hurt, that he is disregarding her feelings, like its kind of humiliating to the reader, that chris her boyfriend is talking about baby with other person when he has his own girlfriend and she is hurt by him. She confronts Chris but he just gets mad and calls her jealous and insecure, which hurts her further and she just gets mad and leaves his house. Later when Chris mom sees the news she scolds him about joking of having a baby with someone else and hurting his partner then he understands how his girlfriend must have felt and they recincile. I hope you're getting what i m saying sorry if it sounds confusing, but can you write it? 🤗

Facing Realities (C.E)

A/N: Thank you so much lovely and I loved the plot line. I loved writing about it and I made a few additions to the story. Hope you like it and I am open to more requests.

Chris Evans Fanfiction (Fanfiction Master List)

Summary: You feel unimportant when Chris can easily discuss about having a child with Lizzo in public but will always dismiss you when you bring up the topic. Getting in to a fight, you leave him and he eventually realises his mistake because of his mom.

Warnings: Angst but eventual fluff.

._._._._.

“The fans want to know about the Instagram dms between the two of you.” The reported quizzed Lizzo and Chris as they both sat in front of him on the couch.

“Well, our baby is going to be the best.” Lizzo spoke with amusement clear in her eyes.

“The world is going to have a little Captain America at their hands soon, right Lizzo?” Chris chuckled.

“Right. And how is your new movie coming along?” The interviewer started asking different questions and soon it was all over.

“Will see you soon Cap. Say hi to (Y/N) for me.” With a quick hug, she left the studio with her usual power walk. Chris just shook his head slightly when he heard all the fans asking her about the baby. They were all truly something and Lizzo just went through them without giving a response.

You didn’t have anything against Lizzo because you knew that everything between her and Chris was platonic. The fact that Chris was so open to discuss about having a baby was what bothered you. He always dismiss you when you wanted to talk about your future and extending your family. It felt like you were the only one in this world that Chris did not want to talk to regarding this topic. This made you feel worthless and pathetic.

You knew that jealousy wasn’t the right word to describe your emotions right now but that’s what it felt like. Confronting people was never your thing and you always did what they asked instead of arguing. It was much easier but you knew that you couldn’t get away with this. This was in regards to your future and so when Chris was going to come home from his interview, you were going to talk to him about it.

“Honey, I am home.” Losing his jacket on the love seat, he made his way towards the kitchen because it was dinner time and he could smell the delicious food from the hallway.

“Hi babe. I am making your favorite. Just go and freshen up.” You stated not turning back because you knew you would break the instant your eyes landed on your boyfriend.

He came to the dining table in his sweats and dived into the food immediately because he was starving. “So…” You tried starting up a conversation but backed down when you saw his questioning gaze trained on you. “Um how was the interview?”

“It was nice. Lizzo and I talked about the baby. God, I just love that woman.” The self doubt in your mind was growing by the minute because he was casually talking about a baby with another woman. He didn’t realise that he was hurting your feelings and he just kept on talking about how amazing it would be to actually have a baby with Lizzo.

“So have you ever thought about extending our family?” You finally mustered up some courage to ask him the question.

“No, I haven’t. We can talk about it another time. So what did you today?” The dismissal in his tone was enough to break your heart into tiny pieces.

“But we have too, Chris. We have been in a relationship for the past three years.”

“I do not want to discuss it today so just drop it (Y/N).” The stern look would have made you back down in a normal situation but not today.

Dropping your fork on the plate, you spoke with irritation, “You never want to have this discussion with me but you would gladly do it with Lizzo.”

“I knew it had something to do with her. Why are you so jealous?”

“I am not jealous. It’s just that you are willing to discuss about your baby with everyone except me.”

“There is nothing going on between Lizzo and I, if that’s what you mean.”

“I know that. I just want to know if you have ever thought about having kids with me or am I just a fling to you?” You we’re absolutely done with him at this point and you dreaded his answer.

“(Y/N), I have told you a million times that you are not a fling. What are you on about?”

“It just seems that I am no longer the person that you want to discuss things with. It’s just not about the whole kid thing but you didn’t even tell me that you are starting in a new movie. I had to find it from the fucking paparazzi.”

“I was going to tell you and I am just not ready for a family yet.”

“Well instead of ignoring me every chance you got, you could have told me about it.” The frustration in your eyes was clear but Chris chose to ignore it. It was as if he was totally immune to all of your emotions.

Whenever the topic of children came up, Chris didn’t tinker why he acted like a jerk. He had always thought about expanding his family but when you came in to the picture, he was so terrified of losing you that he couldn’t even think what a baby would do to your relationship.

“I am not good with all this and you need to be patient with me.”

“All I have ever been is patient for you. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Sudden realization dawned upon him and he was left speechless.

“I need a break from you. Call me when you figure everything out.”

“(Y/N), you are doing this because of Lizzo. Stop acting like an insecure and jealous bit-” Stopping mid sentence, he looked at you in horror.

Tears sprang in your already damp eyes, “Why are you stopping now? Finish the sentence, Chris.”

“(Y/N), I-”

“Good bye, Chris.” Walking out of your once shared home was the most difficult thing that you had to do in this life but there was no other choice. You both were at an impasse and you needed time to sort it all out. Hailing a taxi, you went to your friend, Scarlett’s house. She was a mutual frond of you both but she had become your best friend in the past three years.

Meanwhile, Chris downed a whole bottle of scotch and sat in your shared bedroom with your picture in his hand. He didn’t want to lose you to a stupid argument but he failed to see that he was at fault. Sleeping without you proved as a heinous task and he gave up after two hours. He just sat in the bed alone and hoped to God that you will come back to him. A life without you wasn’t a life at all. However, Chris would not be the one to apologise because in his opinion, he didn’t do anything wrong.

The passing few days, you absolutely refused to get out of the house and stayed holed up in Scarlett’s guest bedroom. “(Y/N), you need to eat something.” Your friend barged in with a tray full of food and you instantly felt nauseous.

“Not in the mood, Scar.” Your eyes had been red and puffy for the last week but you didn’t care. Chris was the only one that you cared about. However, you could not be in a relationship that had no future. You deserved better than that.

“You need to eat and get out of this mood. It’s making me depressed.”

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Snapping at her was never your intention and you instantly regretted it. “I am sorry. I am just not in the right frame of mind.”

“It’s okay. You want to watch something.”

“Yeah, F.R.I.E.N.D.S.”

Chris was no better than you or maybe even worse. He hadn’t changed out of his sweats for the past two days and had a slight scruff covering his face. Empty bottles of alcohol laid around the whole house and rotten food was placed on the kitchen counter. The whole house was a mess and he didn’t care about anything. Except you. Everything in this house reminded him of you and he hated it. From the bedroom walls to the well groomed garden.

The phone rang for the millionth time and he picked it up from the nightstand. It was his mom. Sighing, he finally picked it up. “Christopher Robert Evans, where the hell have you been?”

“I was at home, mom.” The loose thread on your pillowcase suddenly seemed more interesting than the phone conversation.

“With (Y/N)?”

“She left me, mom.” Chris didn’t want to talk about it but he figured that his mom wouldn’t leave him alone otherwise.

“Serves you right. You left her no other choice.”

“How can you say that? I haven’t done anything.”

“I saw the interview, Chris. Have you ever talked with (Y/N) about extending your family?”

“No but I was just joking with Lizzo.”

“It doesn’t matter. She would have felt unimportant because this is a very private matter and she was not a part of it.”

“But-”

“Imagine if the roles were reversed.” Realisation dawned upon him and he quickly said goodbye to his mother because he had a girlfriend to win back. Every second spent without you was agonizing and he never wants to experience it.

“(Y/N), Chris is here to see you.” Peeking her head through the door, Scarlett informed you about your boyfriend. You quickly untangled yourself from the sheets and ran to the washroom. You wanted to look presentable but Chris could see the dark circles under your eyes and your thin figure. There was a sudden pang in his heart because he knew this was all his doing.

“I am sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have said anything. I am a fool. Please forgive me.” He started ranting as soon as Scar left the room.

“Chris, have you thought about what I said?” Your calm aura was scaring his wits so he quickly answered with a yes. “Please elaborate.”

“I have realised that I was at fault and I am going to be more open about the future of our relationship from now on.” The sincere look in his eyes was hard to miss.

“Promise?” Gone was the calm and collected exterior, and stood before him was a vulnerable young woman.

“I promise, baby. Now, will you come back home? I have missed you.”

“Yes and I missed you too.” Kissing him on the lips, you sighed because this was your heaven and you wouldn’t want to leave it for the world.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: I love Chris Evansand I was happy to write a fanfiction about him. If you guys have any more request, I will be happy to write about them and message me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Taglist: @justile 

Like, comment and reblog.

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[donutloverxo]

NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Best Life ~ HJS [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3.3K

GENRE: arranged marriage AU, toxic family, 

PAIRING: Jisung x Reader

A/N: I am far from the Angst queen but I hope you enjoy this sweetie

All your life things had been planned out for you, from the moment you could walk everything was set in stone by your family and you weren't in control of anything around you. From the way, you wore your hair your clothes, when you could speak and what you could do with your life. There was no control for you, the only control you had was when you could go to the bathroom and even that was timed sometimes by your family members. It seemed as though everyone else was in charge of your life while you sat there and watched everything happening around you like some kind of television show so when it came to an arranged marriage there were no surprises to you. It was only a matter of time until your family decided who you would marry and now it was that time, they'd arranged for you to marry someone called Han Jisung and that was all you knew about him, well that was all your family thought you knew about him but you'd done your research and snooped around as much as you could.

Apart from being one of the richest families in Seoul, there wasn't much to Han Jisung besides a few stories about who he was sleeping with, going to parties with and who he was friends with. It seemed as though he led a free life, something you were jealous of but if marrying him meant you even got half as much as his freedom you would take him in a heartbeat. 

"Are you sure this is the one?" Your sister's nasal-toned voice asked as you stood in the dressing room, the day before your wedding and you were trying on a brand new dress because the first one wasn't "right". Meaning that because you had been the one to pick it that it wasn't good at all. It was the way it always worked. 

"I'm sure of it, I picked it out myself." Your mother said proudly as you looked at yourself in the mirror, it was a beautiful gown but you were never going to admit to liking it. Liking it meant that they would take it away from you, you weren't allowed to have the things you liked in life. 

"Come out Y/n, not all of us have all day." Your mother barked as you glanced over your shoulder at the lady who had helped you get dressed that day she looked just as worried as you did about your mother but this was nothing new to you. Having her decide your every thought and action was nothing new so the fact that she was deciding your wedding dress was acceptable. Taking one last look at yourself you ran your hand down the ballgown and smiled to yourself.  It was a strapless bodice with a plunging necklace, tulle covering everything that needed to be cover and the top looked as though it was a corset. It had white and ivory beading around it to make it look more detailed and the fabrics were a mixture of lazy tulle and Royal organza. Thin layers of lace ranged from the bodice and extended of your hips and sides of the wedding gown, it was ultra-lightweight which meant it was going to be easy for you to walk down the aisle in. Tripping was one less thing you had to worry about. 

Stepping out from the curtain you kept your expression blank and your mouth shut as you stepped in front of your mother and sister waiting for them to say something. In your life, it was spoken when spoken to and never say something unless they've asked for you to say something first. 

"Turn," Your sister barked at you following in her mother's footsteps of giving you orders, you did a small and slow turn waiting for their input before you hear a sniffle coming from your mum. You glanced at her without saying a word knowing that if you even so much as tried to ask what was wrong the blame would be passed onto you.

"It's the perfect gown," She blew her nose into tissue as your sister hugged her from the side, the two of them crying together. 

"She does look beautiful," Your whole body tensed as you heard the bridal worker mention that you were beautiful or even acknowledge that you were the one in the gown, you stared at her with your eyes widened in fear but not for yourself, for her.

"You should be the one in the dress mum, not her but tomorrow will be perfect I promise," You let out a sigh of relief as your sister and mother seemed to ignore the worker's comment. The wedding wasn't about you, it was never going to be about you, it was about your mother and what her wedding should have been. It was the reason the venue had changed almost six times, why your dress was changed around twenty and why the groom was someone your mother picked. It was all about her, never about you. 

"Change. We have the rehearsal dinner in an hour." Your mother snapped as she looked up at you, your stomach growled at the mere thought of food. She'd had you on this crazy diet regime since she found out when the wedding was going to be, she wanted you to look the best of the best.

"Don't even think about it. You'll be having a salad and a drink, that's all you're allowed!" Without another word you walked back behind the curtain waiting for the worker to come and undo the buttons at the back of the dress.

"She seems strict," She whispered to you as soon as the curtain was pulled closed, your eyes stared up into hers in the mirror debating if you could speak without your mother hearing you but you just nodded at her before staring down at the floor. It was better safe than sorry.

Jisung stared at you as he watched you staring down at the plate in front of you, you hadn't said a word to him since arriving at the restaurant and it was beginning to bug him. Normally the girl he was seeing would be talking his ear off trying to get to know every little thing about him and his family but you didn't seem to care.

"I heard you got another wedding dress today, is this one finally "the one"?" Your father in law was just trying to make some light-hearted conversation but Jisung rolled his eyes at the mention of yet another dress. It wasn't your family's money that you were wasting trying on all the different dresses and playing dress-up with all he could think about was how you were using them for his money. Glancing to your mother to see if you had permission to speak you smiled weakly, 

"Yes, the perfect dress for tomorrow.” It wasn’t a lie, it truly was the perfect dress something you would have picked out for yourself given you had the choice in your life. 

“Better be, for the price of it,” Jisung grumbled loud enough for only you to hear, you glanced at him wondering what had gotten his panties in a bunch but he shot you a glare. There was no secret that Jisung had a strong disliking for you but from what your family put him through you didn't blame him, constantly spending his money, changing everything around the wedding and hardly speaking when he was around.

“What’s the point in buying all of the different dresses if none of them was right for you?” He questioned as soon his father began talking with your mother about church arrangements, you looked down at the glass of water in front of you it wasn't like he would understand if you told him or even believe you. 

“A girl has to be sure," You lied speaking in just below a whisper just in case your mother had started paying attention, she'd made a rule of not speaking until she gave you permission. As soon as you and Jisung were married you could do whatever it was you wanted, speak whenever you wanted since having a divorce wasn't going to be an option. She didn't care if you messed things up after the wedding, it was before that she cared about. The wedding was for them, they needed the money and you out of their hair, it was all a convenience for them. Your heart sank inside of you as you caught your sister watching you from across the table, her husband mumbled something about you speaking without permission, it appeared everyone was included in giving you orders. You stared down at the table and began sipping on the water, poking at the salad in front of you and waiting for the whole evening to be over but it seemed to be dragging on. 

"Have you written your own vows or are you going to read the originals?" Jisung's mother questioned when she noticed how awkward things seemed to be between you and her son but you looked at your mother before speaking. 

"We're going to be writing our own," Your head snapped to your mother as well as Jisung's, neither of you knew one another well enough to write your own vows so you were just as shocked as he each other upon hearing your mother say that. 

"We are?" You stumbled out without thinking, silencing yourself as soon as you saw a death glare come in your direction,

"It's a tradition in our family," Your mother said through gritted teeth, taking your hand in hers and squeezing so tightly you thought it was cutting off the circulation to your fingers which didn't go unnoticed by Jisung. His eyes stared down at your hand as he frowned to himself wondering why your mother was the one taking charge of everything, why you would look at her before speaking there was something that didn't add up for him. 

Lingering behind after the rehearsal dinner Jisung took you from behind dragging you over to the toilets and it didn't go unnoticed by your mother who was beginning to panic on the inside that something was going on.

"Do you even want this?" The sudden question made you stare up at Jisung, he was red in the face from walking over to you and it looked as though he was angry about something. 

"Yes, of course," You knew you were going to have to say everything you could to make him stay, if he tried to leave now everything would be blown. You would rather take your chances in a marriage where you don't truly love someone than staying with a toxic family that hated your guts. 

"Why? You don't know me, I don't know you." Your heart was beginning to pump faster, so fast you could practically feel the blood running through your veins as you stared up at him with worry clear on your face.

"We know each other, I know everything about you." It wasn't a lie, you knew everything there was to know about him from the internet but he knew nothing about you, not the real you. He only knew the version your family perceived you to be and that was far from who you really were. 

"You're so sheltered," He sighed as he looked at you, glancing to your mother when he noticed how uneasy you seemed to become without her around. 

"We should take Y/n home, it's a big day for you both tomorrow." The fake sincerity in your sister's tone sent shivers down your spine but you flinched as she touched you, moving away from her so you wouldn't have to deal with her cold touch. Within seconds you were being dragged over to your mother who began dragging you out of the restaurant and towards her car, lecturing you about wandering off unattended.

The next day was supposed to be the best day of your life and yet you were sitting in your wedding dress in your changing room trying not to cry. You'd been woken up early and pushed around from stylist to stylist before finally arriving at the old church your mother had picked out. The altar was decorated to perfection which of course, lead to the comments about how you were never going to match something so perfect and the church outdid everything you were trying to do.

"It's not right," Your mother hissed at you as you raised to your feet waiting for her to nitpick at every detail about that day, your makeup was done the way she wanted, your hair was styled the way she had chosen everything was the way she wanted except for one important thing. It wasn't her getting married. It wasn't her that was going to stand up there in front of everyone and have the wedding of her dreams it was you.

"She won't be our problem in a few hours, we won't have to deal with her." Your father spoke as though you weren't even in the room, the way they always did. It was demeaning and made you feel as though you were nothing but something they had stepped in. That was the one thought getting you through the whole thing, the one thought that was going to keep you strong as you walked down that aisle and into a whole new life. Into your freedom. You'd decided the night before that once you were married you would tell Jisung the truth about everything, about why you were so quiet and what your parents were really like and pray that the two of you could at least be friends. You didn't need a husband and it was clear he did not want a wife.

Organs began to play inside the double doors and you knew it was time to start walking, your father linked his arm with yours as he glanced down at you. 

"You better not trip, this wedding is everything." While normal daughters would exchange fond words with their father yours reminded you that you were imperfect and that he couldn't wait to get rid of you. 

"Head up, back straight, don't slouch," He mumbled before the doors opened but it wasn't the reaction you were hoping to get, a room filled with people and yet they were all whispering and gasping to one another. Your eyes wandered over everyone as you slowly walked up the aisle until you realised what was so shocking to them all. Jisung was nowhere to be seen. His father was seen mumbling to your mother about something before storming out of the church and your father left you standing at the altar to be gawked at as though you were some kind of animal in a zoo. Your sister smirked from the sidelines as she saw your eyes beginning to well up at the thought of being stood up on your own wedding day. 

"We appreciate everyone coming out today," Your father stood in front of you as he began addressing the full church, everyone exchanging comments about what they thought could have possibly happened between you and Jisung for you to be stood up but you were wondering the same thing. 

"Did you say something?!" Your mother screamed as soon as the church was empty everyone had left one by one but not before gawking some more as you stood at the top of the altar, forced to watch as your freedom slowly seeped away from you. Your parents had been yelling accusations at you since the moment the guests all left, you didn't know what to do. Your only means of escape were gone and you had nothing left to loose, you were already a shell of a person. 

"God knows what you said to him last night, something that humiliated us no doubt!" Your father snapped as he threw his hands up into the air, Jisung stopped just outside the door as he heard the yells coming from inside. He had come to speak to you alone thinking your parents would leave you alone for a while but all he could hear was yells. 

"It's your fault he left, you know! You're nothing but a no-good piece of trash!" Jisung flinched for you as he heard your father scream once again he felt his heart sink as he realised why you had been so insistent on the married,

"I did everything to make this perfect for you! I did everything! Everything was perfect except for you!" Their words began to build up and build up until you felt as though you were going to burst with anger. 

"What did I do that made you hate me so much?! What is so wrong with me?" You finally yelled out, staring back at them as they gave you a look of shared shock.

"We took you in! We loved and raised you!" Your mother scoffed at you, 

"Love?! That's what you call love?! Training me never to speak unless spoken to, punishing me whenever I expressed myself!" Everything was finally bursting out of you and you were no longer able to control your feelings.

"I have no freedom! You've kept me in a cage my entire life!" Jisung's hand rested on the door as he waited to see if he should come in, he was impressed to hear that you were standing up for yourself. 

"You should be grateful that we even dealt with you for so long! you're ungrateful," The door opened and you stared at Jisung in fear that he had heard everything that was going on, 

"After everything we've done for you, this is how you show us you're grateful!" You said nothing in response to your mother but Jisung did, he began walking down the aisle and took you by the hand.

"Kids don't need to be grateful! They need to be loved and shown how to live in a world," Your father stepped forward to say something but Jisung slowly tucked you behind his body. 

"You have no idea what-"

"Don't raise your voice at me, Y/n and I are leaving." You frowned as Jisung began to walk you down towards the exit of the church, 

"Together?" You whispered just as confused as everyone else in the room seemed to be around you both,

"Blood is not thicker than peace of mind. Cut toxic family members out of your life," He wasn't speaking to everyone in the room he was speaking to you as he locked eyes with you, he could see how confused you were so he sent you a reassuring smile.

"I'm taking you away from them." He whispered as he began pulling you out of the church and into the parking lot, you didn't know where to start with the questions or if you ever wanted to question him. 

"Get in," He smiled opening the car door and glancing at you as he waited, the dress you were wearing was hiked up to your knees and you climbed inside, looking forward to whatever your life had planned for you with your new freedom. 

"Freedom looks good on you," Jisung chuckled as you laid on the beach, it had been months since your almost wedding and you'd never had to look back on your old family again. Jisung was your family now and he treated you better than anyone else in your life had before.

"It feels good on me too," You whispered turning to lay your head on his chest and look up at him, 

"You're happy, right?" You nodded at his question and he smiled again kissing your lips softly. The two of you began dating not long after leaving your family behind, he was happy to get to know the real you and you fell head over heels in love with one another from the moment you began running away together. He was taking you everywhere you'd ever wanted to go, looking after you the best that he could, making your life together the best it could possibly be.

Tagline: @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @minholuvs​ @anxiousbobatea​ 

[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

[niksfics]

↬ WHAT COULD NEVER BE

↬ PAIRINGS: bokuto x f!reader? (Side) atsumu x f!reader

↬ WARNINGS: nothing really. Just some heart wrenching angst, bokuto is careless with your heart I guess

↬ SUMMARY: you fell in love with your bestfriend but your bestfriend has never felt that way about you.

↬ A/N: I totally did not cry while writing this pft

↬ WC: | 1.7K |

My first year at Fukurodani had been lonely to say the least. I had been new to the area wheras everyone else had gone to middle school together, and I'd been the odd one out. The cliques had already formed leaving me to fend for myself.

My second year though I'd seen a flyer for the boys volleyball team needing a new manager. I signed my name against my better judgement and hoped for the best. When I'd shown up to the first practice game after a talk with the coach, I had realized signing that flyer was the best decision I'd ever made.

Bokuto Kotaro a second year -at the time- like myself was just a ball of energy. He was an honest to god enigma. Being around him was just intoxicating, a rollercoaster you never wanted off of. We got along fairly quickly and him and the rest of the boys had made my second year a little less lonely.

In my third year I was always greeted in the halls, by my fellow classmates who'd known me because of Bo. When he'd learned that I was basically friendless in my second year he'd gone around and introduced me to just about everyone he knew. Eyes shining with love and happiness. That was the third time my heart had skipped a beat because of him.

By the time I realized the butterflies in my stomach increased as the months went by in my eventful second year, the more I realized I was falling in love with my best friend. My heart thumping against my rib cage every time he'd look at me. My skin lighting on fire as his skin brushed against mine. My breath catching in my throat whenever he'd look at me a certain way, or whenever he leaned down to whisper something in my ear. He made me feel breathless and I could never get tired of it.

The day I realized my bestfriend, Bokuto Kotaro, just might not be in love with me as well was the day I'd stayed late after practice to put some of the equipment in the storage closet. I'd been proudly wearing his jacket. It swallowing my body because that's just how big he was. He'd rounded the corner into the closet and smiled at me sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Y/n, I was wondering," he'd paused and my heart beat against my chest almost as if it was gonna burst right through my skin. The breathless feeling coming back and I felt myself starting to smile until he'd finished his sentence, "well uhm... I was wondering if I could have my jacket back, Koyuki is cold and I don't want her to freeze," my smile dropped in an instant. The way he'd said her name, it was.. well it was different than whenever he said anybody else's name. "Oh yeah sure Bo, lemme just put this stuff down really fast," I'd turned from him nose stinging from the tears welling up in my eyes, and I swallowed the lump forming in my throat down. Suppressing every single emotion in my body.

I'd handed him his stupid jacket back and slammed the door closed as I watched him drape it over her shoulders and she smiled brightly at him.

I should have known then. Known that he was falling head over heels for akaashi's twin sister, because when bokuto falls in love it's not quiet, its loud and powerful and passionate and it'll swallow you up if you let it.

Koyuki akaashi did just that. Let his love consume her like the raging fire it was. They were a beautiful couple. A match made in heaven.

She was beautiful and confident. His personal little cheerleader. She was undoubtedly the most wanted girl at our school. She was perfect for him. I knew that. I felt it, and I tried my damn hardest to be so happy for him. To love him differently. The way he loved me. Platonically. I watched them fall in love.

Watched him kiss her with a passion I only dreamt of feeling from him. They held looks of love whenever they looked at the other. The hardest part though. The hardest part was she was the kindest, sweetest girl you'd ever meet. A heather. No hidden agenda. Nothing like those girlfriends in the cliche best friends to lovers trope books. She welcomed me as a friend and fully supported me as bokutos bestfriend. She was impossible to hate, and how could I hate her when she was the reason my best friend smiled the way he did. The reason his breath caught in his throat just the way mine did.

When we graduated and I'd become a cheerleader for the MSBY Black Jackals, because I'd promise Bo to not leave his side. Promised I'd followed him to the ends of the earth. We were y/n and bokuto. We came in a pair. It was hard. Hard being around him when he'd talk about Koyuki and how he couldn't wait to feel her again and how it was so hard being away from the person you love more than anything, and then he'd say "you know?" With his puppy eyes, and I'd just shrug and agree.

The way I'd wished and hoped that it wouldn't last. That somewhere in bokutos head he'd realize she wasn't the one. That they'd get in a fight too big to cool down from. The more I'd wished that the more I felt guilty. Why would I wanna ruin my bestfriends happiness? Why would I wish that to go away?

So when shoyo hinata asked me on a date, I'd excitedly agreed. Finally I could, maybe, forget about the big himbo I'd fallen for. No. In fact that made it worse. I found myself comparing hinata to bokuto. The way hinata walked, the way hinata talked, the way Hinata's touch didn't make my skin burn up quite like bokutos did. Me and hinata didn't last. It was a disease, and I was dying. Being eaten from the inside out. My very heart collapsing in on it self, and when he'd proposed to her. God, the way I cried. The way I ached. The way my chest clenched and the tears finally fell.

"Y/n, what's wrong?! What did I do?" He asked desperately grabbing my wrist as I'd gasped and tried to turn.

"Nothing Bo, I'm so happy for you!! These are happy tears Ko!"

He smiled big and bright. Bokuto wasn't dense. He was more aware of anyone's feelings than he was of his own. Either he saw the pain in my eyes that night and ignored it, or he saw it and in fear of our friendship crumbling right in our hands that night swallowed down what he'd wanted to say. It was the latter.

The day of the wedding finally came. Here I stood, next to my favorite boy. Waiting at the end of the aisle for a girl who was not me. My bestfriend, the boy.. no man I'm in love with. Tearing up as is his wife to be walked closer towards him.

Tears gathered in my eyes and I forced a smile as they fell down my face. Atsumu tapped my shoulder. I turned and he'd held open his arms. I'd buried myself in the tight embrace of the setter who knew. Who knew the story. Who'd held me as I cried many times. Times just like this one. He kisses the the top of my head and I turn back around catching the eyes of bokuto.

After the ceremony everyone had gathered at a venue for the reception. I walked away from the laughter. The buzz of the party and the cheers as the groom dipped the bride and kissed her.

Unfortunately for me, he'd soon noticed my absence and come to find me. "Y/n" he whispered hand closing over my elbow, and a warm, salty tear rolled down my cheek and stopped at the corner of my lip.

I turned away from the salty water washing over my feet, and my toes dug in the sand. "Don't touch me" I tried my hardest to sound determined, but my voice cracked.

"What was it? What does she have that I don't Ko?" I asked. Desperate. Reaching for anything. Grasping at straws.

That's when I looked at him, and his eyes said it all. He was never very good at hiding his emotions. His eyes always gave him away, and he'd known. He knew the whole time. I knew that now.

Lovely Bokuto Kotaro had known all along.

He was quiet for a minute. "You have everything that she has and more." He said what he felt and bokuto never lied. He hates lies I knew that.

"Then why not me? I know you knew. You knew the minute we were sitting in that boba shop and you looked at me staring at your hands interlocked. I know you realised. Then and there." I pulled my elbow away from his hand.

"I love you y/n, just not in the way I love koyuki," he says it so casually as if he'd just told me he'd left my purse on the counter. Not tenderly. Not carefully.

My eyes closed collecting myself, "don't you think I know that Bokuto? Don't you think I've cried over that every night for years? I know you do, and God it's so fucking hard to be happy, and bite my tongue. To swallow down the word vomit, because I love you so fucking much, kotaro. I've loved you since the middle of our second year, but now you've gotta let me go. Leave me behind." I turned back facing him again.

"Please don't ask that of me, you know I can't do that. That'll kill me sweets-" I stopped him and turned to glare at him, "you can't fucking call me that anymore. That's a pet name for lovers, not for a man who is married to use on his bestfriend."

You could hear someone walking towards you guys, "y/n?" You knew that voice. "I'm here tsumu," you sighed. Moving around bokuto and walking closer to the setter. "Just... just.. enjoy you're honeymoon Bokuto, and please let me move on and heal. Congratulations on your marriage"

You smiled softly at him kissing bokuto on the cheek as you took the hand of the blonde. Atsumu smiled down at you, heart beating faster just like yours did the day you made eye contact with bokuto for the very first time.