#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

[masonm99]

Maybe It’s A Little Too Late?

The feeling was weird. As someone who thought this moment in your life would never happen, to even think that you were getting married or falling in love after what happened, it all felt as if it was some sort of dream. You were half sure Mason would realise that he’s not actually in love with you and leave you in the venue or something. Your inner conscience scolded you for having such a low opinion about yourself. This was ridiculous. But you really hoped that Mason didn’t run away, it would’ve crushed your heart and you don’t know if you could take the taunts and jabs from your family. They weren’t really happy about you getting married outside of your culture with it being so many differences but they would have to put up with it because you were for sure that Mason was your soulmate.

You and Mason met through your brother, and you kind of knew he was off limits but that made you feel attracted to him more. From the moment you laid eyes on him you knew he was the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. However, you had to keep your feelings and thoughts to yourself because you didn’t know if he felt the same and importantly he was your brother’s good friend. You wouldn’t go there.

Well that’s what you thought.

It was a few days later after your brother, Adam introduced Mason to your family and you thought that was it, but you didn’t know that Mason would be sticking around as he was new to the city and didn’t know his way around, so your brother thought he’d play tour guide and ease Mason into Manchester.

Whenever you’d see Mason around, you would share a few glances but that was it, you had never conversed with one another. He seemed like a cool guy though, very sweet and humble. Not like any other footballers who had an arrogance towards them. Mason seemed different.

And you were right.

He was different.

Since then you’ve never looked back

You tried to push your thoughts away, and admired the non-alcoholic mocktail your cousin had made you along with the pretty green lengha Alina, your cousin brought for you. It was a gift from her, Declan and Ben, an effort on their part to try and get involved in your culture and traditions. Apparently they read somewhere that it was a tradition in South Asian culture to give something from the groom's side. And honestly? You were touched by the thought.

“How do I look?” You turned around and looked at Alina, who was probably eating a second plate of jalebi that day.

“You look beautiful. I know Mase made the right choice with the colours”

“Mason chose it?” you asked as your smile widened.

“He was so excited when we went to buy it. He even researched the best shops so he could make sure his girl got the perfect dress.”

“I am glad he did. It’s beautiful.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up when you asked Alina to click a few pictures of you and send them to Mason. If he was the one who chose it, he deserved to see you wearing it.

Once you were ready, the two of you went down to the hall for your mendhi ceremony. The guys were so disappointed when you told them that this was a girls only event. Your mom was almost misty eyed and wouldn’t stop hugging you whilst you were getting your mendhi done. Alina sat beside you looking at the designs with curiosity until your mum forced her to sit by your side and get it done on her hands as well. You laughed as you watched her deciding of the pros and cons of getting it done.

You were enjoying yourself with your cousin, so engrossed in a conversation until her phone rang, which you picked up as you saw it was Declan, probably calling your cousin to tease you like they always do. You didn’t think it would be different this time.

But it was different.

“Alina, I can’t find Mase. I thought he was out there to sneak in and meet Y/N but it’s been three hours and then Ben found this note on the bed. Alina, what do we do?”

You felt your heart sinking at Dec’s words. You could barely understand what he was saying. It wasn’t some sort of prank, right? Mason can’t go missing a day before your wedding. It just didn’t make sense.

“What did the note say, Dec?” You asked as calmly as possible, making sure no one could see the panic you felt. Declan seemed to have stopped talking when he realised who he was talking to.

“Y/N, it’s nothing. Don’t worry we-”

“What did the notes say, Declan?” You interrupted, repeating the question this time leaving no room for arguments.

“He said I’m sorry.”

You could feel your head spinning. Did he? Did Mason really leave you? All he said was I’m sorry and left? No explanations? Nothing? This could not be happening. You surely weren’t that bad, right?

The phone almost fell from your hand but your cousin caught it in time and held it against your ear so you could continue talking.

“Hey, Y/N. I promise we’ll find him. Please don’t worry. Lew and Woody are already out looking for him. He’ll be here soon.”

You ignored what he was saying and got up, stating that you needed to use the restroom. You made sure no one could see the tears burning up in your eyes and moved swiftly towards your room. You knew it would take Alina less than five minutes to sneak upstairs.

You could feel your head spinning. Everything Dec said was ringing in your head. Flashes of Mason telling you how much he loved you, how he would never leave you alone, appeared in front of your eyes. The dates, the kisses, the proposal. Was all of that a lie? Did he really not love you anymore? He said he won’t ever leave you.

What happened then?

‘You are one of the most unlovable people I know. No one would want to spend the rest of their lives with you’

Your ex’s words rang in your head as you stumbled across the room and broke down, wondering what was it that you always did wrong? How was it so hard for you to handle your relationships? Were you really that bad that everyone you loved left?

Alina entered the room, her grim expression making it clear that she knew what happened. She hurried towards you, wrapping her arms around you, whispering how all of it would be okay. How everything would be fine and how he would come back. But you weren’t even sure anymore. You didn’t know if he would? If he would come back to marry you? If he wanted to marry you. If he even loved you?

-

Mason knew he fucked up. He knew he shouldn’t have left but he just couldn’t take it. He kept thinking about you, about how much you loved him and how you cared for him. And his mind kept telling him how he didn’t deserve it. That he wasn’t worthy of your love and care.

His phone vibrated again as he walked into the coffee shop where the two of you went for your first date. He knew no one would find him here. As he took a seat, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from you. And honestly? Mason was too weak to not see what you sent, so caution thrown out of the window, he opened up the chat.

What he saw took his breath away. Looking at you wearing the lehenga of his choice, he knew he fucked up right at that moment. You looked absolutely stunning and he regretted his decision right away. He chest tightened when he realized that you had no idea he ran off.

He shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t have run away like that. Yet another example of how you deserved better. He switched off his phone and sighed.

-

“Ali, what will I tell my parents? I should have known it was too good to be true for me.”

You should’ve listened to your mum’s advice when she found out you and Mason were dating in the first place. There was always gonna be differences where you two would argue as your cultures are not the same. Maybe you should’ve just listened to your mum and married an Asian boy.

You knew if you told your mum this now, she would just say ‘told you so’ and you’re not ready to hear it. You wanted to prove your mum wrong and show her that Mason is the one for you. He is your soulmate.

Well, was your soulmate so you thought.

“You will tell them nothing. Because Mase will be here and you have got nothing to worry about.”

Hearing a knock at your door, you sat up straight and wiped your tears away. No one needed to see those.

“Are you alright? You left so abruptly, I was so worried”, your mother said and you gave Alina a panicked look.

“She needed to use the bathroom aunty, and then we thought we can sit here until our Mehendi dries off”, Alina lied easily and you sighed in relief when your mother nodded.

“It’s good she’s here, I needed to talk to her anyways”

Your heart skipped a beat and it reminded you of the times when you were worried your mother found out something you lied about something. Did she find out about Mason? She would be so disappointed. And probably angry. You were snapped out of your thoughts when your mother took a seat beside you as Alina left the room.

“You know, when you said you wanted to marry Mason, I thought you lost your mind”, you stared at her, wondering where she was going with this.

“I was even skeptical if you would have a successful marriage. But the more I spent time with the two of you, the more I understood why you wanted to marry him. He looks at you like you are his world. I mean, the way he talks about you, I know he will always keep my little girl happy”.

Both you and your mother had tears in your eyes, but it was for different reasons. She was getting emotional because she thought her daughter would get married tomorrow, you were crying because the guy you were going to marry ran away. She pulled you into a hug and you melted in her arms. It had been a while since you cried in your mother’s arms like this, but for now, you were trying to find any sort of warmth you could.

-

“Mason Tony Mount!!!”

Mason winced on hearing Declan’s voice as soon as the door opened. He looked up from his hands as he saw his friends and brother marching towards him.

“What the fuck was that?” Alina smacked him on the head.

“I..”, Mason couldn’t say anything and looked down. He didn’t know what to say, or what to do anymore. He fucked up again and he knows he deserved the glaring and the yelling.

“Why did you leave?” Lewis demanded.

“Because I don’t fucking deserve her. She deserves someone who’s so much better. She’s an angel for putting up with me but she deserves so much better.”

“You are an asshole. She loves you and you love her, what’s the problem?” Alina stated as Lewis and Woody nodded.

Mason stared at his hands, desperately trying not to make eye contact with Lewis because he felt ashamed of what he’d done.

“Look Mase, Y/n, she loves you a lot. And if she wasn’t ready for the baggage that comes, she wouldn’t have said yes when you proposed. And for God’s sake, what the hell were you even thinking about, leaving like this? You say you care for her and you love her right? So let her make her own decision.” Lewis said gently.

He was right.

“She thinks it’s her,” Alina interrupted his thoughts.

“She thinks she isn’t good enough. When she realized you left, she said she should have known it was too good to be true. She thinks she is the problem and I should kill you for making her feel like that, but she loves your stupid ass too much”, Alina continued.

“What? No! Fuck no, why would she think that?”

“You know why”, she replied and if Mason could go back in time and punch your ex, he would have done that. That asshole ruined your self-esteem and now Mason was about to do the same.

“I….I have to go to her, I have to go see her now, I shouldn’t have left. Lew, what have I done, I can’t believe I did that to her”.

Lewis stopped his rambling with another smack on his head. Mason wasn’t sure if that was necessary, but he deserved it.

“Get your ass up and do something now.”

-

You read the text for the seventh time in the last hour, wondering if that was going to happen when the quiet ‘Hey’ from behind startled you. You turned around, almost tripping in your lehenga when you saw him standing by the window fidgeting nervously.

“You look beautiful”, he muttered, avoiding your gaze when all he wanted was to kiss you.

“Why did you leave?”, you asked, not beating around the bush. You needed to be sure they didn’t force him to come back because if that was the case, you didn’t want it. You didn’t want to marry someone who wasn’t ready to commit wholeheartedly, no matter how much you loved him.

“Because I am not good enough for you”

“That makes zero fucking sense”, you huffed and Mason sighed.

He took a seat beside you, maintaining a small distance between the two of you when all he wanted was to wrap his arms around you and apologize.

“I left because I am not good enough for you. I left because I know you deserve a person who is so much better than I am!” Mason exclaimed, his eyes filling up with tears.

“And who gave you the right to make that decision for me?”, you whispered angrily as he looked away ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did this and ran away like that. I don’t know what came over me, I should have talked to you rather than try to make decisions for you. I am so sorry,” he said taking your hands in his.

“They didn’t force you to come here right? I don’t want you to go into something you are not ready for”, you said as you tried to hold in tears of your own, you knew how humiliating it would be if he left, but you knew this was necessary. You didn’t need a marriage built on compromises and guilt.

“I am going into something I want, baby. I want you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know what I did was so so stupid, but I promise I will do everything to make up for it. I know it will never be enough but give me another chance baby,” his voice cracks as he adds a quiet please.

He looked at you, waiting for your answer, ready to accept whatever it was. He knew you might not give him another chance, but he knew he would deserve it.

-

Thank you for reading!

Don’t hate me but there is already a part two in the drafts, just wanted this out but I didn’t want it to be too long that it would bore you. I haven’t posted in a really long time so I would appreciate it if you leave some feedback if you want 💜

[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.

[strawberryshortcake1495]

Here’s Teenage Shermie in my Grandma Shermie AU!

TW: Mentions of pedophilia, SA, grooming, drugging, 🍇, teen pregnancy, and depression under the cut.

As Shermie grew into her teenage years, she became more quiet and reserved, saving her energy for happy occasions, like birthday parties or hanging out with friends! Speaking of friends, she’s made so many! There is one that sticks out to her: Velma Blerble. A girl with light ginger hair and cute little freckles. She who preferred to stick to traditional things rather than hop on the newest trends. Just like Shermie. They were so similar yet so different. Is that why she felt that strange pang in her chest whenever she’d see Velma with her boyfriend?

All the teachers were the same, civil people who only wanted two things: work and silence. It was fine. It wasn’t a big deal. But there are also Mr. Thomas, who Shermie would catch staring at her during important tests before quickly looking away. She was his favorite student, mostly because she was polite and wasn’t as loud as the other kids. Shermie didn’t mind his company either. Mr. Thomas was a good man with a wife and son. He liked to talk about them during class breaks, which would bore the hell out of the class.

One day, Shermie turned in her homework and Mr. Thomas praised her neat handwriting. “What a good girl you are.” He said. Her chest tightened, but she chose to ignore it. But then Mr. Thomas started pointing out the not-so great parts of her work. According to him, certain points didn’t make sense and not all methods were correct. But it was okay. Mr. Thomas offered to tutor her and she told him that she needed to ask her parents for permission first. Mr. Thomas wholeheartedly laughed and told Shermie that he had already gotten permission from her parents. Shermie trusted him.

From then on, everyday after school, Shermie started taking private lessons with Mr. Thomas. When she did something good such as getting a question right or acing a quiz, Mr. Thomas would shower her with compliments. About how great of a student she was. About how she’d graduate in no time. Shermie soaked it all in like a sponge. Weeks later, Shermie was getting steadily better at her work. As this went on, the compliments became more…personal.

“Good girl.” “What lovely hair you have.” “Your hands write so neatly. Do you use a type of lotion?”

Shermie didn’t know how to feel. She liked this, she knew it. But there was also something else gnawing at her. She didn’t know what. So, she chose to ignore it. Ignore the way her mother looked at her with concern when she told her about her lesson.

But then one day, Shermie was growing thirsty during a lesson because she forgot to bring her water bottle. Mr. Thomas offered her a cup of water to help put her back on track. She sipped it, and she instantly recoiled as the water tasted strange. It tasted…stale. Can you even say that? She didn’t know, because her vision was starting to blur and…and…nothing.

When she woke up, she found herself lying on the beach at the bus stop. Mr. Thomas was sitting right besides her. Shermie looked down and noticed something. She wasn’t wearing her clothes. Not that she was naked or something, she was just wearing someone else’s clothes. She asked him what happened. He brought a finger to her lips. “Don’t say a word about this to your mother. This is our little secret.” He winked.

The bus arrived, and Mr. Thomas helped get her home. He quickly left before Caryn opened the door, though. Caryn was surprised to see her daughter wearing a loose yellow shirt and shorts that were barely visible. Caryn quickly brought her inside, made sure she was warm, and asked her what happened. Shermie didn’t say anything.

Every day after that, Shermie would feel this awful painful pit in her stomach when she went to school. Everytime she’d see Mr. Thomas, she’d bite her lip to stop herself from running away. She didn’t like keeping secrets. She hated secrets. Shermie was sure the other kids were starting to notice, especially Velma. One day, the school was having a field trip to a football game, and Mr. Thomas had offered to be the chaperone for Shermie’s class. During the halftime, Shermie went to use the bathroom when she glanced to her side and saw Mr. Thomas next to her. She tried to run, but he already had her pinned down to the nasty public bathroom floor. Sweet Moses, she was so goddamn terrified.

Shermie was pretty sure she dissociated during this next part, but she still somehow felt every part of it. As she regained her senses, she found herself in a stall with no pants, no underwear, and her hair was down. She quickly scrambled to put them on. She looked around for Mr. Thomas but he was already gone. Relieved, she cleaned herself up and walked outside…only to find Velma outside the bathroom with a horrified look on her face. Shermie returned that look. Did Velma…oh no. She reached out to her but Velma ran off covering her mouth.

Before she knew it, the police have arrived to the stadium. This was so embarrassing…she tried to avoid eye contact with Mr. Thomas as he was put in handcuffs and taken away. A court trial, a crying mother, and angry arguments with Pa later, Mr. Thomas had been sentenced to life in prison for sexually assaulting an underage minor. Shermie thought that would be the last of her worries. But she soon found herself in her bathroom, staring down at a positive pregnancy test in her trembling hands. Ma and Pa couldn’t know. Especially not Pa. He’d call her a whore and that thought made her want to scream and cry and rip the family pawnshop apart.

So Shermie kept her pregnancy a secret, just like before. And this time, she was able to stay low under the radar for 7 whole months until everyone started questioning why her stomach was getting so round and big. She knew she had to fess up, but she was getting sick herself of having to deal with this alone. Velma was the first person she told. The girls were hanging out near a bridge and they both leaned on the railing to admire the view. Shermie thought it would be the perfect time to reveal it.

Caryn was the second person she told. This time, Shermie couldn’t compose herself and broke down in tears. Filbrick found out. “No daughter of mine is a whore!” He barked. He and Caryn fought so hard until Caryn finally decided to divorce him. She said something about having dealt with all his bullshit but that this was the last straw. Filbrick responded by kicking her and Shermie out onto the streets.

Luckily, Caryn had a good amount of money due to her psychic business and was able to afford a small apartment where she helped support her daughter. Shermie was pulled out of school to help prepare for the baby and when the day finally came, she couldn’t even see the doctors because of the tears blurring her vision. Her baby was a boy. She had a little son, and he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Caryn seemed to get emotional too, judging by the sounds of her sniffling blending with the cries of the baby.

2 weeks after her son had been born, she met Velma in the park. Velma gave her a bouquet of roses and congratulated her for becoming a mother. The roses smelled very lovely. That was when Velma told her that her boyfriend, Boyish Dan, was moving to a sleepy town in Oregon called “Gravity Falls”. Shermie recognized that place. Her brother Stanford lived there. He ran a tourist trap called “The Mystery Shack” and rarely interacts with the family. He didn’t even know he was an uncle, at least not yet.

Then Velma told her she’d be moving to Gravity Falls alongside Dan. The world kinda slowed and the only thing Shermie felt was Velma’s warm hands on her jacket as the two girls embraced. They said their goodbyes and promised to write to eachother. As Velma walked away, Shermie wanted to run to her and tell her something. What was it? She wasn’t sure. But the moment was lost, and she was gone. Shermie was too busy raising her son so she never got to write a letter to Velma. It seemed that her friend couldn’t bother to remind her.

[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.

[blurredfloweryblood]

I'm going to put a trigger warning here. This is not my usual posting thing, but I kind of need to spew it somewhere.

Trigger Warning for discussions of grooming, abusive relationships, sexual harassment and sexual abuse, as well as discussions of mental health issues, trauma, and non consensual choking.

When I was a teen, I was heavily conditioned to feel disgusting about myself. Ugly, unwanted. I was weird (still am) and introverted and I didn't know how to talk to people my own age. I was unstable and suffering.

I turned to online sites to help me find people I could talk to. Posting profile pictures and actually having people interested in me and my body had me on a high I couldn't get out of. Manipulated and needy, I was groomed by someone and stayed in that relationship for a good amount of time. I would send pictures, videos, had phone sex when the only visible camera was mine. Had to participate in a lot of things I was kind of uncomfortable to do.

And I convinced myself that it was the only way I could be liked. Taking off my clothes for people, whenever. Perform acts that I didn't like, get verbally abused because I thought I liked it, but I just liked that they showered me with love bombs after that. The only way that I knew that someone would "like" or "love" me was when they asked to see my body. When they requested positions, videos. I would do it. Not because I particularly wanted to, every time I did it, I had this sinking feel in my stomach, but I did it every time. Complied to a lot of things that made me feel ugly afterward, but if I got a superficial compliment or a petname, I was over the moon. The only way I thought I could be loved was by this cycle of verbal abuse. Humiliation and the power trip they had. Having me take off my top and showing everything. They said jump, and I was already in the air.

It went for a lot of years. Nobody said anything. Nobody knew. Nobody noticed. And for a long while, I thought that it was normal, that that's how relationships go. Ny body is everything, and if I half a little of assets for people to find me just desirable, then what's the damage?

It continued. On and on and on. Boyfriends, girlfriends. Possessive behaviors, sexualization just about 1 or 2 days after meeting. If we had a video call, they were already telling me to take my top off. Everything off. To do all these things, and I did them, because I thought it was love. Genuine love. I begged, showed every single part of my naked body to tons of eyes that I don't talk to anymore.

When I was 16 my nudes were leaked by a guy. When I was 19, a friend who had liked me for a long time proposed dating casually and I agreed. I would go over to his house, and he would hover over me, unbotting my dresses. It felt disgusting. It felt horrible. He would put his mouth on me and I felt like I was being eaten. Like some sort of panting, salivating creature was holding me down. It was nauseating. But he liked me, so that was fine, right? As long as I stood still, looking at the ceiling zoned out, it was fine.

I gave him head. I went home and I wanted to throw up. I wanted to rip my mouth and jaw and throat.

We disconnected. I met other girls, other guys. They all did the same thing. And I was desired. I wasn't ugly or fat or whatever. I was cute and pretty. And putty under their voices. I did everything, and after that I would lay down on my bed, feeling like nothing. So many feelings in my head swirling. If I was good, and complied, they would love me more. They liked me. If they asked to see me, then they were interested. They loved me.

The same friend requested being friends with benefits. We were on his bed and he touched me all over and got off from me. He said all this things that had me feeling weird and icky. But I shut my mouth and pretended to like it.

When he finished. We were talking. He asked what I was into, because he said he wanted to know. I didn't really know, because I did what people wanted me to do. So I said that maybe I could be interested in light choking. Mind you, all of these conversations happened after the whole sexual thing.

I didn't see it coming. One moment I mentioned choking, and 1 second after that, his hand clamped around my throat. He didn't squeeze but he kept it there. He had this smile, like he thought I liked it or I was in the mood. I pushed his hand away, pretending to laugh. With him, I wasn't me. I was this ideal body that he wanted to have.

When I went home after that. I cried. I felt so afraid.

I have a partner now, and I felt so weird because they don't sexualize me. They don't ask for pictures. Or videos or whatever. They ask about my day, about how I am. We talk about normal things and they laugh and say compliments that are normal. That I'm intelligent or educated or very good at analyzing stuff. That they want to hear about it. Watch movies with me, hug me.

I haven't gotten used to it. I feel like the rug is going to be pulled under me and I'm just waiting for the: "Ha! Got you! I never really liked you." That's nobody can like me or love me because I'm me.

I feel like this, dented can. Sitting on a shelf. Rotting. This ugly, disgusting good that sticks to everything and dirties everyone. This stupid, ugly, piece of shit. I feel filthy, like my skin is all weird. I want to take it off. I want to rip it out. I want to be untouched again. I want to undo all that. But I feel like my body is full of a layer of dirt or rot that I can't and will never be able to take off. I want to be liked. And loved. I'm not pretty. I have nothing to offer.

And I want to believe my partner so bad. I want to, but it's hard to get it in my brain that they like me. That they won't make me feel uncomfortable or force to do things I don't want.

Again, I'm sorry, I just needed to put this out there. If I don't do it now, I'm afraid it will never leave my head and consume it.

[spaceygracee]

I met a guy while I was still with my ex, in September. Meeting this new guy felt like fate. I was supposed to go on a date with my ex to the movies (convinced he only wanted to go because I had other plans). My sister invited me to a music video shoot and then she shares the song. She sent a love song with an island vibe, it was beautiful! I had to drive about an hour to get there. I arrive at a beautiful mansion and it’s decorated for a wedding. They have a bunch of food and the energy was light and fun. The is a man in a green suit and I feel inexplicably drawn to him. A girl’s has to trust her intuition, right? Turns out, he was the groom for the shoot.

I must admit, I was jealous of the woman playing the bride. She was stereotypically hot and I felt woefully unable to keep up. She and him argued the whole day and I figured they were flirting. Turns out, the name she was calling him was not his name…he may have been for real. 😂 He was sweet about it either way. People were yelling at him to stop throwing his head back during the shoot when he smiled and I don’t think it was landing well. Intuition told me to try and it worked (see, we work well together). I really thought they liked each other. The arguments could have been seen as the “be mean to someone you like” thing. Like, why did I even care? He is not even my normal type.

Somehow I end up outside without my girls and there he is. I believe I asked if I could sit and he kindly obliged (luckily half of the porch could not be used due to filming). We spoke for a few minutes about some things that could, to some, appear to be conspiracy theories. Everything I mentioned was declassified and factual. (I really just skipped the small talk and went straight to nerd). I went back inside.

We all had a chance to eat amazingly delicious food. He ended up in the room I was in. I overheated and had to stand over one of the air vents on the floor (old and historical home). Why did I sing, ‘Victory is Mine’? I didn’t mean to and everyone in the room was like, “hey, hey, na”. I’m embarrassed now because I don’t sing in public and, for some reason, I find it even more embarrassing for someone to find out that I can actually sing. This song would come up, randomly, for months.

I ended up missing two showings of the movie. My then boyfriend calls me and rips me a new one. I don’t know how to make you believe that I lost track of time. It was about an hour drive back home and my brain was confused. Where did the time go? I looked at my watch all day and still never knew what time it was. I spoke to the groom for over an hour apparently. It felt like a short moment. My ex told me that I wouldn’t have a home because I forgot about him and our date. I didn’t forget, I was lost and I can’t understand, myself, what happened. I was lectured for hours then my ex would bring it up all the time. Instead of crying, per usual, I would daydream about the man that I met. He felt safe while I was speaking to him and he was the catalyst for my leaving abuse. Our conversation made me realize how horribly I was treated daily. He felt safe and like home for me. I’m such a hyper vigilant person but I was completely unaware in his presence. I didn’t have to know what was going on because I knew he had me. I felt safe. My brain no longer had a dialogue and my nervous system was calm for the first time in a year. He, unknowingly, continued to protect me. I continued to think of this beautiful spirit whenever my ex would yell and lecture. The thought of him created peace in a sea of chaos.

I knew I had to find him. I only had the incorrect name given to him by his bride. You bet I found him. Friend request accepted. There has not been a day since I met him that he hasn’t touched my thoughts. He has my number now. I did warn him that I was weird and I didn’t want to scare him. He told me that if I didn’t give him all of my weird then he wouldn’t really know me, so that was not okay. Everything that others finds odd or off-putting, he accepts it. I loved him the moment I met him. My spirit knew he was home. He is giving Twin Flame! I can’t tell him that though, because hearing that the Universe has been sending showing me the synchronicities…is a little odd. My extra-sensory gifts have been up leveling since our meeting. He gets me.

[wastedlike-all-mypotential]

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!!

._._._._.

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.

._._._._.

[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