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thera-daydreams · 3 years

Text

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

#trese #trese 2021 #trese netflix #maliksi #maliksi x reader #tikbalang #trese fic #x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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cicissketchbook · 3 years

Text

Okay so sometime ago, I think about five years ago, I saw some things in the tag about how April and Donnie’s interactions were abusive. It angered me greatly because I am of the opinion that misusing that word really devalues it and as a result, real abuse isn’t taken as seriously as it should be. During that time, I wrote this really long piece in the notes app of my phone, one part ranting, one part sharing, basically just putting my frustrations into words. I never posted it because I really didn’t want to open the doors of communication about the topic of abuse. Basically I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where people would try to argue with me about my own experience.

Some time has past now and some people expressed interest in wanting to read that post. I know that those individuals that expressed interest and are coming from a place of respectful curiosity, so this is for everyone else that might stumble across this post.

Trigger warning: this post is about abuse. Not abuse in the show, not abusive characters, this is about real life actual abuse. This is basically me demonstrating why something is not abusive, by showing you what is.

Also, it should go without saying that this is a story that’s very personal to me, I’m being a little bit vulnerable by sharing some aspects of that story. This doesn’t have my whole abuse story, but it has bits and pieces. You don’t have to agree with me, but please at least be respectful.

I’m posting this because people have expressed interest in reading it. If you don’t like it or don’t want to read it, just scroll away.

And bare in mind I wrote most of this like five years ago.

So I saw something in the tag earlier about how someone or some people think Aprils treatment of Donnie is emotionally abusive and I am here to put this to rest right now. I'm sure he bulk of the fandom doesn't think this way, but I haven't stopped thinking about it since I saw it earlier and I'd just like to throw this out there. And honestly, I'm not even talking about just the Tmnt fandom.

For the love of God, stop throwing that word around like you know what you're talking about.

It's been my experience, coming from an abusive childhood myself and having been the one to help my best friend escape from her abuser, people don't really know what it is unless you've experienced it. That's not to say that you have to be a victim to recognize it, but to truly understand what it is and how it makes a person feel, it's hard to imagine if its never happened to you. People love to fucking throw that word around and nothing makes me see red more than that.

First off, you sound ignorant as hell. Second of, by seeing interactions you don't like and calling them abusive, you are devaluing the seriousness of real abuse. And because that word gets thrown around so much, the line of what is considered abusive is so blurry now. Now you have people who think they're abused when they're not (kids who get spanked for example), and you have people are really are abused but they don't know it (partners who make excuses for each other).

You think April is emotionally abusive to Donnie? Honey, I will tell you what real abuse is like. Real abuse is being told that you aren't smart enough to come up with any good ideas on your own. Real abuse is being told that every good thing that has happened to you only happened because [your abuser] is in your life. Real emotional and verbal abuse is being humiliated and belittled and made to think you aren't good enough and nothing you do is good enough or ever will be. That your feeling are not valid and that you have no worth outside what this one person says you have.

It is not abuse to disagree or argue with someone, it is not abuse to speak your mind even if it hurts someone else’s feelings. Just because someone has a negative reaction to something you did or said, that doesn’t mean your actions were abusive. Their reaction does not define your behavior.

The literal definition of emotional abuse is the attempt to control someone else. Be that through manipulation or gaslighting or isolating. Like I said before, the abusers goal is for the victim to think they need them, they are worthless without them, they could never make it on their own without them.

And then of course, there’s physical abuse, where your head is slammed in a door and your nose is busted open.

Abuse isn’t this casual thing that happens sometimes, you don’t say “oh that person is kind of abusive” like it’s a character flaw. What you’re thinking of is just someone being mean. You can be mean without being abusive and you can be abusive without being “mean”, One of the steps in the cycle of abuse is literally love bombing. It’s a manipulation tactic to get you to think that the abuser is just doing this because they care about you, they want to protect you, they want what’s best for you.

And the affects of that can stay with you your entire life. To this day, I’m instantly distrustful anyone Who reaches out to me because I think they know my abuser. I suck at communicating because even the slightest hint that someone is mad or upset puts me in defense mode. If someone voice raises above a certain volume, even if it’s not at me, I shut down. I have to remove myself from the situation. I am literally in capable of communicating with someone who I perceive to be angry, even if they aren’t. Like my mouth will not form words, all I can think about is getting away from this person. I��ve been in situations where someone will move or approach me a certain way and I throw my arms up to cover my face. I’ve had relationships suffer because I would 100% rather be by myself then put myself in what I perceive to be danger, even though my logical brain knows that this person is not my abuser. My last boyfriend used to get mad at me because he felt like he was having to tiptoe around my trauma. To which my response was, “I literally just said I don’t like being yelled at, this shouldn’t be hard.”

This shit isn’t funny, it’s traumatizing.

(if you’re curious about this, I recommend looking up the cycle of abuse. A common thing is outsiders looking in and not understanding why someone can’t just leave an abusive situation, and then when the victim says it’s not that simple, they just don’t understand how that can be. Viewing abuse from an outside perspective makes it seem very black-and-white, but knowing the cycle of abuse can help to better understand what a victim is going through.)

(My abuser happened to be my stepmother, but it still affects me in both romantic and platonic relationships.)

(Also I’m not even going to touch on the thousands of people that are literally murdered every year for trying to get away from their abusers.)

Anyway….

I have yet to see anyone actually provide any kind of legitimate reasoning or example of April being abusive. Because she’s not, the examples aren’t there because they don’t exist. “Leading someone on” isn’t abusive. And I’ve talked before about how April doesn’t even do that.

Just because you don’t like some thing, doesn’t mean it’s abusive. And if half of these people actually knew what real abuse was, I guarantee they’d shut their mouth with a quickness.

It’s assholes that throw that word around that make is so victims of real abuse aren’t taken seriously.

If anyone has any instances where they think April was being abusive, let me know and I would love to debunk them for you. No, not discuss it, debunk it. This isn’t up for discussion.

#tmnt 2012 #april o'neil #donatello #apriltello #apritello #donnie #tmnt #abuse #abusestory #may be triggering #triggering content

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loth-wolffe · 3 years

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About that Fox post: i absolutely love you for writing it, thank you for that

Also, for your consideration:

- Where were you during the zillo beast attack?

- throwing a surprise birthday party for him?

- going shopping together

- I have a scenario that him dating an investigative journalist would be very chaotic, any thoughts?

- what's the friendship with his brothers like?

- why do i fell he would be good with kids? Like your nephew or something

- on that note, does he get the dad genes from Jango?

- post-war AU? in the timeline where Palpatine chokes and dies like he's supposed to

- Getting!! Married!! (eventualy)

many Fox thoughts today, many thoughts

sorry this is so long, I have little self control and a lots of love for fox. i love u so much for asking this and letting me explore what a life with fox would be like.

also I apologize for being a h*rny bitch and not controling myself, so nsfw thots are marked like this so if u wanna skip that's fine.

and uh, first I'm gonna answer the investigative journalist hc and base everything about this in that solely thought because that's a galaxy brain thing to say.

I have a scenario that him dating an investigative journalist would be very chaotic, any thoughts?

AHDJSJ I LOVE THIS. okay okay but I feel like because of this job this is exactly why you guys met, like you needed some info and you asked some shiny but he didn't know a thing and you were like "is there someone I can talk with about this?" and when he's about to reply, Fox enters in action and he's like "need anything?" but sO COCKY.

he hates journalists mostly because some of them treat the clones very badly and never talk about the casualties or that kind of stuff about war, right.

like, it would turn into this-- banter filled with sexual tension that would've ended up in a make out session if 1. fox didn't have that much of self control and two if he weren't wearing his bucket.

it'd be like

"listen man-"

"it's commander for you." a pause, "or sir."

or like

"i need to do other things if you don't mind."

"i can think of a few you could be doing right now." and the way your eyes run through his entire body, even if he's all covered in plastoid but damn you if he isn't the hottest man walking, and he actually shivers, and gulps, because it's not like he wasn't thinking about that either, pushing down your pants and railing you right then and there in that fucking filthy alley. he is well aware how his suddenly codpiece feels too tight, but you only smirk and go, "you know, like giving me the information I need?"

KDJSJ IMAGINE THE POWER. THE POSSIBILITIES.

it'd be so ridiculous, but you also caused this impression on him that when you turned away to go on your business he was dEVASTED, but he didn't want to let u know he actually liked you. He's stubborn, that man.

So by some miracle when you're investigating something, you guys run into each other bc he's on patrol or something and he's GIDDY. but also frozen in place bc he didn't think he would ever see you again, mostly because Coruscant is big and has too many people in it. and you're like

"ah, commander fox, isn't it?" and he quickly resumes to say something that shows how aNNOYED he pretends to be, but he ends up tagging alone because "these parts are not safe"

"oh?"

"you'd need protection."

and the smirk you have is sO ARROGANT because it's not your first rodeo.

"you wouldn't want to have a civvie getting killed or something on your watch now, would you?" and he clears his throat and nods sharply. and you give him this innocent eyes and bat your lashes, "my hero."

and if you think those words didn't do aNYTHING to him, you're mistaken u hear me, he's instantly hARD.

so anyways after that YOU ask him out, and he's like, stuttering and saying yes and all.

now some random thoughts on this magnificent hc.

• if it can't be himself, he would always have the men he trusts the most going on patrols around the zone you're around in case something happens.

• he lOVES when you rant about something new you discovered, and when he asks for mOre info bc he's a, how do you say chismoso?, he loves gossip??? anyways and you're like "nu huh, you gotta wait till tomorrow, foxie"

• he aLWAYS makes sure to read/see your job, either if you work for some newspaper, magazine, etc or if you're on the TV he nEVER misses it.

• if you work for the TV, his brothers are always like "fOX YOUR GIRL IS ON THE HOLONET LIKE RN!!!" and he gives them this bitch face because he kNOWS THANK YOU.

• alright but imagine going on dates with him and being like "did you know there was an investigation last year around this part that–?" ROMANCE AT ITS PEAK.

• if his shift ends before you even think of going home, he definitely joins you on your investigations.

Where were you during the zillo beast attack?

uhh, I think you'd be home, like maybe you turned in early and fox maybe didn't know, so he was almost in tears when he called you after the whole thing happened because he was so worried.

of course, during the attack, he tried to push the thought aside, bc I think all clones have this, uh, switch, that makes them not worry during missions that much? just like, have this thought here and there but nothing serious that would make them paralyzed and have a panic attack right there. but every second he thought of you and hoped you were alright.

unlike you, that were worried sick because you saw the chaos unfold, the troopers arriving in shuttles and the jedi doing whatever they were doing and you just heard destruction. you DID cried a bit and when fox called you, you cried even harder. and he was like "it's alright, I'm alright baby."

that night he hold you SO tight, whispering sweet nothings on your ear and never stopped kissing you once. you barely got any sleep because you were so afraid of waking up only to find out the other died on the attack and it was all a dream.

throwing a surprise birthday party for him?

AAAAAH THIS IS SO CUTE.

now, clones don't exactly have a birthday???? but he did all these nice things for your birthday (he and the boys baked you a cake that was sO UGLY and tasted a bit weird) so you thought you could surprise him too.

it's most likely he gives you the date when he graduated from Kamino or something and for all the years you're with him, you never miss his "birthday" at first you did something quiet, like a dinner at your place, bought him something nice, gave him a bath or something and spoiled the shit out of him.

so for the second year, you threw him a party in his office, made him this cake or whatever and decorated with red and white balloons and invited a few troopers that wanted to help you and he was stoic for a moment, but then you were like "hAPPY BIRTHDAY!" and hugged him so tight and he relaxed under your touch and whispered this small "thank you baby"

everyone congratulated him and he was a bit awkward but when they start telling all these stories of them and fox on the job, he starts to loosen up a bit, so while everyone is eating cake he hugs you from behind and chuckling lowly in your ear as he listens to his brothers.

he dOESNT like pda like I said but he forgets for a moment because he just loves you sO SO SO SO MUCH. it's also easier for him to whisper filthy things into your ear and mumble how good you are for him, that he doesn't deserve you, that he can't wait for everyone to leave cause he wants to have his present (you) nipping your earlobe and making u all hot and bothered and would def fuck you nice and hard on his desk. yup

going shopping together

imagine, jUST IMAGINE, he'd look like your personal bodyguard 😭😭 like, he'd be behind you carrying most of your bags and people would look at you wondering who are you, why are you sO important to have the commander of the Coruscant guard with you???

but like, you don't care and fox doesn't even notice, and he'd be so attentive, faking to be both annoyed and uninterested but he'd see this nice shirt or dress or whatever and grumble something like "you'd look good on this" i just-

and like when you pass by the lingerie store, dUDE, he'd make you model for him, him sitting like he fucking owns the place, getting harder and harder every time he sees you in a new pair of underwear and when you show off this cute little red set. damn.

if you go to the market or something, he'd always love to show you these things like "look at that" or just pull you towards this stall and you'd adORE to show him stuff like, "ohh, fox here try this" or "what you think about this?" and stuff like that.

what's the friendship with his brothers like?

i think it'd be very easy-going and light, they would tease you sometimes, but they really like you, mostly because they see fox isn't as stressed as before and they see how happy he is when around you.

they think he deserve it, to have somewhere where he's free and loved, so yeah.

they sometimes ask him about you and never miss a chance to say hi when you stop by the office.

the boys absolutely ADORE you.

why do i fell he would be good with kids? Like your nephew or something. does he get the dad genes from Jango?

HE WOULD AND HE DOES.

like, I think at first he'd be very hesitant when it comes to children, like he'd be nervous when you introduce him to your niece and when you ask him if he wants to hold her, he says a quick no and just prefers to watch you, heart feeling funny when you make faces at the little baby in your arms.

at some point he dOES hold her, with such care and a gentleness that makes your heart flutter, and he coos softly as she sleeps soundly in his arms, rocking her with a delicacy you thought impossible from such hard man, and when he looks at you his eyes shine with this flash of something you can quite place but makes your heart skip a beat and think of how much you'd love to have this, with him, a little family, a baby that has his curls and maybe your eyes, a mix of your skin color with his and maybe his stubbornness completed by your charisma. a perfect little thing for you two to hold and care and love.

he'd be such a good dad, but then again every clone would be the most fantastic dad bc it's literally in their genes.

if you have a nephew that is, u know, older but still a kiddie, like 5 or 6, the lil boy would be aMAZED by fox, he'd love him so much, like imagine, always asking for the commander, wanting to play with him, asking fox to carry him eVERYWHERE, and at first fox would be like, shy and uncertain and he wouldn't know how to act until he accepts the fact that this little boy really likes him and looks up to him and fox becomes The Cool Uncle™

post-war AU? in the timeline where Palpatine chokes and dies like he's supposed to and Getting!! Married!! (eventualy)

well, in my post-war AU, clones get Rights™ and get paid and have vacations and stuff, sO, maybe you get to have Fox for a little more time and his schedule isn't as bad as it was during the war, so maybe after the war you get home to a nice dinner and fox using this silly apron and sometimes you come home early just so you can cook with him.

maybe you go on holidays to these nice places, going to the beach or the woods and finally settling somewhere quiet, start a family in this nice house or if you don't want kids then it's just the two of you and maybe a few pets.

i think the wedding would be officiated in Coruscant, of course, so his brothers and your fam can go, he'd definitely cry when he see you walking down the isle or when you put the ring on his finger and he'd be so so so happy, dancing with you all night, being so clingy because he's just Over the moon, y'know, kissing your cheeks and neck, whispering how lucky he is and how much he loves you, and how good you look, never leaving your side and always leaning over with pouty lips for you to kiss him.

when he proposed it was during one of your sweet, soft times with him, maybe in the aftertaste of your sexy times, as he holds you close to his chest, fingers running up and down your skin, as he stares at the ceiling and the question comes out as if he were talking about the weather, his heartbeat is slow and steady and it's one of those times he feels confident and sure.

you have talked about a future together, so he knows you'd say yes.

it's more a statement than a question, really.

"marry me." he would say, so quietly, almost a whisper. and when you look up you only find this beautiful emotion filling his eyes.

"what?" you just want to make sure you heard right, he'd smile softly, cup your cheek and as his thumb caresses your skin he'd whisper.

"will you marry me?"

you oBVIOUSLY say yes while ugly sobbing.

#ANYWAYS #i love fox #i love him your honor #I LOVE HIM #commander fox x reader #commander fox #headcanons #ted talks with ari

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Drifters ch.9 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Enter the Other Brother. Blue, welcome home! You might be in for a surprise!

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge was not a Monster who cared very much for surprises. In his experience, they never led to anything good, not to birthday parties or unexpected gifts, but rather ambushes and dust. He preferred careful planning to the seat-of-the-pants schemes that his brother often came up with, every step made with strategy in mind.

He couldn’t say for certain if Blue was the same way, although he suspected he may be. His understanding of how the alternate worlds worked was more for the layman rather than the professional, but he wasn’t blind to the personality traits that he and Blue shared, the sort of twist in nature vs nurture that any sociologist would love to explore.

He had a fair idea of how he might react to finding this clown car of a domestic scene in his own living room and if he’d known that Stretch hadn’t even mentioned he and Red were here, much less the baby, he would have at least sent Blue a blasted text.

That might have at least braced him and given him a chance to come up with a better question than simply, “Is that a baby?”

His brother, ever the peacemaker, chose that precise to speak up, scoffingly, “sure can tell you two are brothers, ya share the same brain cell, your bro said the same damn thing. yeah, it’s a baby, good on you for noticin’.”

“blue!” Stretch scrambled upright and his bright grin was too wide, too wrong, tinged with poorly hidden guilt. “sorry, bro, i was gonna call and it slipped my mind. yeah, hey, everyone showed up on our doorstep yesterday. check out the snow princess, cute, huh?”

That much at least was the truth, but Blue didn’t seem to have heard a word of it. This wasn’t quite the reaction Edge had been braced for; he’d expected Blue to make a beeline for the baby, had been resigned to handing her over for plenty of excited cuddling and cooing.

This was something else entirely. The normal stars of his eye lights were overly bright, flashing between blue and yellow with seizure inducing intensity, set into a face that was like stone. He barely glanced at the rest of them past a brief, bizarrely sympathetic glance at Edge. The anger in his gaze was for his brother alone.

Stretch seemed equally confused, his oversized smile faltering, “bro?”

“How could you?” Blue said, his voice carrying despite its deadly softness.

“wha…me?” Stretch looked around the room as if perhaps another person had appeared, that it was to this stranger his brother spoke that way. He shrank back as Blue abruptly moved, slamming the door shut as he stalked over to the sofa, his small body radiating fury.

“How could you!?” Again, louder this time, not quite a shout but verging on one.

“coulda woulda shoulda? bro, what the hell—”

Blue ignored that, stamping his foot and sending out a spatter of rapidly melting snow from his boot to dampen the carpet. “Irresponsible!”

Stretch’s face was falling, going oddly blank, his false humor fading. Next to him, Red looked equally perturbed. “now hang on a sec, short stuff, ain’t no reason to go off on the honey bun.”

“Stay out of this!” Blue snapped and for a wonder, Red jerked back, his mouth snapping shut. His eye lights briefly guttered, leaving his sockets dark and black, returning only when Stretch spoke up next to him.

“yeah. stay out of this,” Stretch agreed, softer but no less sharp and from the look he shot Edge, he was included in that statement.

Edge said nothing and even the child was silent, a dab of runny banana sliding down her chin as she stared at the Swap brothers with wide sockets. Even if he’d wanted to intrude, this argument was between brothers and it was an unspoken rule through all the ‘verses that one did not interfere with brothers.

Despite the surface similarities, none of their relationships were exactly the same. Edge knew all too well that if he railed at Red over his laziness, his brother never took it to heart or soul. He let Edge rant, blowing off the steam that built within him throughout the day and his frustrated insults rolled off Red like water off the proverbial duck. The only fallout tended to be yet another sticky note added to the continuing line trailing away from a single, absurd sock.

Stretch was, well, lacking waterproofing. More like Edge in that way, truth be told, and if Edge could snipe at his brother all day long for his ridiculous puns and lazy ways, one genuine return jab from Red often left him deeply wounded, all the more painful for its unerring accuracy and rarity.

He wondered how he’d handle being under the weight of that much visible disappointment. Edge almost always agreed with Blue’s assessments of his brother’s behavior, but his delivery needed work and the unexpected impulse to protect Stretch from that disappointment took him off guard. He wanted to scoop Stretch up like he did the baby, hold him close, cradle him in his arms and protect him, and that was ridiculous, utterly; he was an adult, older than Edge, and yet the urge remained.

In the end, Edge could only look away, stirring the gloopy remains of the banana while the two brothers whispered furiously behind him.

“Of all the careless, irresponsible—” Blue took a deep breath, let it out, muttering out, “This is all right, this is fine. We can deal with this.” He scrubbed his gloved hands over his face and then squared his shoulders as he said, “You still should have called me.”

“probably,” Stretch agreed, and perhaps the unexpected storm had passed. He relaxed back into the sofa, the tension in the room easing. “didn’t want to interrupt your important training.” He flashed Edge a sharp glance and he tried to look as if that was the exact reasoning.

“Yes, well, that’s true,” Blue admitted. “And I appreciate you thinking of that, but next time…well, there probably won’t be a next time of this, I should hope.” Any lingering worry that Blue might object to them staying for a time vanished as Blue finally swung back to the baby, this time with a familiar, bright smile on his face as he gushed out, “Which is a shame because she is simply adorable!”

He rounded the coffee table with the haste Edge originally expected, grabby hands extended, and the moment Blue bent down to reach for her, the baby burst into sobbing howls, squirming away.

Automatically, Edge swung her up, settling her against his shoulder and patting her back gently as he soothed her with a bewildered, “There, there, it’s all right. What’s wrong?”

Blue looked as if he might burst into tears himself, stumbling back a step and his eye lights faded from stars to unhappy circles. “I didn’t mean to—"

They both turned to look at Red as he let out a harsh laugh. “what’s wrong? he scared the shit out of her coming in like that, that’s what’s wrong,” Red snorted contemptuously, “don’t you know nothin’ bout babies? you’re almost as bad as my bro.”

“Not really,” Blue admitted. Shame filled his expression as he shuffled his feet. He noticed he was still wearing his boots and sat on the floor to pull them off, carrying them over to the door and automatically straightening the other shoes before adding his. “Most of my experience with children has been seeing them from a distance.”

That gave Edge a start and he realized he’d been expecting Blue to have some sort of knowledge about childcare, though he wasn’t sure why. This world was softer and tended towards kindness, but that hardly meant it gave them any innate parenting skills.

“Well!” Blue straightened, propping his hands on his hips. “I’m sure that the Magnificent Sans can learn!”

“sure you can, bro,” Stretch said, cautiously, and that Edge could understand, being very familiar with Blue’s brand of determination.

“yeah, well, here’s your first lesson,” Red slouched back on the sofa, picking at his gold tooth with a sharpened fingertip. “babies don’t like it when ya shout.”

“yep, that’s a good place to start. you know what, i’m gonna get everyone some coffee,” Stretch announced and fled to the kitchen, the coward.

Blue paid that no mind, already came back over determinedly when he spied the bowl Edge had hastily shoved on the table. The child was watching him warily as Blue picked it up, taking hold of the little spoon. “Here, let me help!”

Before Edge could stop him, Blue tried to poke the filled spoon into her mouth. The child refused to part her teeth, leaving a smear of mushy banana across them, and Blue’s brief confidence sagged, “Oh. Um. Maybe she’s not hungry?”

“Maybe.” Edge took the bowl back and immediately she began bouncing eagerly in his lap, mouth opening wide as she made urgent little sounds.

“fuck, you two are morons,” Red snorted, because of course he would stay to bear witness. “she don’t know you. kid is small, she ain’t blind. she ain’t gonna take her banana goop from just any plain asshole, she likes an asshole she knows.”

“Yes, thank you for clarifying that for us all, brother,” Edge said sourly. Somewhat gentler, he said to Blue, “Sit with me. Let her see you, it may make her more comfortable.”

“yeah, hold out a hand and let her sniff ya, that’ll do it,” Red chuckled meanly as Stretch came back out with a tray of mugs. He set it down before smacking Red on the back of the skull.

“will you cool it on the running commentary? let them work it out.”

Red rubbed his head and scowled, but he accepted the coffee cup when Stretch handed him one. “just callin’ it how i see it.”

“yeah, well, if they give up on trying, that leaves you as mary poppins, smartass.”

“good point. my teeth are sealed.”

The child grudgingly allowed Edge to settle her back on the pillows with the unspoken promise of more food. She watched Blue warily the entire time she was eating, but he made no move towards her. He sat obediently still the entire time, his gloved hands clasped tightly together in his lap as if to stave off any impulse to scoop the baby up. If nothing else, her attention on Blue kept her from messily sharing any more of her banana.

When the bowl was scraped clean, Edge wiped the child’s chubby face clean with a damp cloth then settled her back into his lap. “You see, little one?” he told her softly, “Blue is a friend.”

“I am! I really am! Want to come here?” Blue slowly held out his hands without getting too close, waiting with impressive patience. The baby looked from him to Edge, and he tried to look encouraging.

Slowly, she held up her arms to Blue. He lifted her a little awkwardly, but managed to get her settled into the curve of his arm without intervention.

“There we go!” To Edge’s relief, Blue kept his enthusiasm at a minimum, though he practically vibrated with excitement. Almost immediately, the baby began to loudly babble and if he didn’t know better, Edge would say she was scolding Blue for his part in the earlier brotherly dispute.

Soon enough, her chattering dwindled to murmurs, her sockets growing heavy, then closing entirely as she slept. Edge let Blue keep holding her as he gratefully took up his own cup of coffee and never had caffeination been so delicious.

Blue only looked at her in awe, lightly touching each of her tiny, perfect fingers. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered, turning the full force of his starry eye lights onto his brother, “but honestly, Papy, you should have told me you two were expecting a child!”

Stretch choked, spilling coffee down the front of his shirt. “wait, what? that’s why you were so pissed off?”

“I would have thought you would be more cautious about that sort of thing, but I suppose it hardly matters now,” Blue said philosophically. “You still should have called me though when she arrived!”

“but we didn’t…!”

“Here we have a new baby, and I wasn’t even able to give her a baby shower!”

“She’s already had a bath,” Edge said, confused. This was going entirely too fast and he was not in top form, how could they possibly have been expecting her, there was nothing about the past two days that Edge had expected in the slightest.

Rescue came from an unexpected and wholly unwanted source.

“fuck’s sake, blueberry, she ain’t their kid!” Red snapped.

“Don’t swear,” Edge and Blue said, nearly in unison. Then Edge nearly choked on his own coffee as realization clicked with the force of an open-handed slap. Blue thought that the baby was his, not simply his responsibility but his own and Stretch’s. Suddenly his earlier sympathetic look made more sense, by Asgore’s horns, of all things he could believe…!

“She’s not?” Blue asked, confused. “But, then where did she come from?”

“where the fuck do you think, numbnuts?” Whatever the patience Red usually had for Blue seemed to have found its limit. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, all but slamming his mug down on the coffee table, “she wasn’t flown in by the stork, kid was homegrown just like the rest of us and she’s got the fucking serial number to prove it!”

“Oh.” There was a wealth of meaning in that single, soft word, too many to properly interpret. Blue looked down at the baby sleeping in his arms, his fingertips hovering over her rib cage without touching, right over where her pajamas hid the healing scar. The same scar his brother and Red still had, faded and blurred, but still there. Then he wordlessly handed her to Edge, climbing to his feet and walked determinedly over to his brother.

Stretch only watched warily, allowing Blue to take away his half-empty coffee cup to shove it on table, ignoring the splash of coffee that slopped out and spread across the wood. He slid his small, strong arms around him, holding onto his brother tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” Blue said simply. The words were muffled, buried into Stretch’s coffee-stained hoodie. “I shouldn’t have been so upset with you and I certainly should have let you explain.”

“aw, bro, it’s okay—” Stretch hugged him back, resting his cheekbone on top of Blue’s skull.

“It’s not,” Blue said, the words tainted with the hint of a sob. “I assumed you were being irresponsible, and I shouldn’t have.”

“not like i don’t give you a reason for that.”

“There’s a difference between a messy room and, well, this.” They stayed there a moment longer, holding on tight, and when Blue drew away, he swiped a hasty sleeve over his damp sockets. “Now!” Blue clapped his hands together softly. “I think we should discuss living arrangements.”

“We can,” Edge said, quietly firm, “but I hardly think that will be necessary. We won’t be here for long.”

The sudden trio of protests was loud enough to wake the baby and Edge turned away, bouncing her in his arms as he tried to soothe her back to sleep. He’d known there would be objections, but he couldn’t allow them to sway him. This child was his responsibility, his choice, and his alone.

He had a duty to her and Edge was determined to see it done.

TBC

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #drifters

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

Note

thor, guardians of the galaxy, avengers: age of ultron, avengers: endgame,

thor - do you ever write by hand? when and why?

Not generally, no. My brain moves faster than my hand can write, and also after an embarrassingly short time my hand will start to hurt, so it’s just a frustrating process all around.

That said, I’ll write by hand if I have no other choice - like if I need to scrawl an idea down on a napkin or scrap paper or whatever. I will also occasionally write a scene out by hand if I am having trouble with it; something about handwriting it seems to give my brain a little jolt and then I can usually fix whatever it was I was having trouble with.

guardians of the galaxy - be honest. would you want someone from marvel to read your fics?

My initial reaction was no but, actually, I suppose it would depend on who from Marvel it was. If it’s someone who wants to offer me a job? By all means, have at it. If it’s someone like Tom? Absolutely not.

avengers: age of ultron - what do you do when you get negative feedback?

I honestly rarely - if ever - get negative feedback. I mean, occasionally I’ll get a “hmm I think I would have preferred if Loki did xyz” which doesn’t really bother me (I tend to think okay, cool, that’s you; thanks for the comment tho) but that’s about all I can remember. I did get a kinda rude “umm we’re waiting for an update” on StFB awhile ago, lmao, which is just - girl, same.

If I were to ever get some seriously negative feedback - either a hate comment, or a bunch of concrit, or whatever - I want to say I wouldn’t let it get to me. I went to grad school for writing, which I only mention bc it means I’ve sat through more workshops consisting of my classmates tearing my shit apart than I can count. (I say “tearing apart” but it was always respectful constructive criticism, not hate or anything.) I learned years ago not to take concrit personally, and also to take it with a grain of salt - like, if I get some concrit that’s way off the mark or whatnot, I’m pretty good at ignoring it.

That said, fanfic isn’t a writing workshop and I’m not submitting my work for concrit purposes, so any I got would be unsolicited and that would annoy me a lot. Depending on what the criticism was, it might sting; I’m more fragile now than I was in grad school (it’s just been a long time since I’ve been workshopped). If it were outright hate, then it would definitely hurt my feelings - less bc they didn’t like the fic and more bc they went out of their way to make me feel bad bc they didn’t like it. If that makes sense.

avengers: endgame - here is your opportunity to rant about how AWFUL endgame’s ending was. (or, if you liked it, explain why!)

I mean ...

#charlotte bitches about endgame

My Endgame hate has its own tag, lmfao. Not just the ending, either; the entire movie was a giant fucking mess. I don’t even know how to summarize how bad it was - all I can think of is that gif where it’s like “amazing, every single thing you said was wrong” except it’s “every single thing you came up with was shit.”

The time travel didn’t make sense. The directors and writers couldn’t even agree on how it worked. Steve’s ending was a travesty. The treatment of Thor’s depression/mental health was wrong on so many levels. How exactly did Steve get the infinity stones back to their original places (especially the Aether)? Nonsensical. I don’t know wtf was going on with Clint’s murder plot or why everyone was cool with it. Natasha. The end battle literally only happening bc an alternate universe Thanos showed up - like, it wasn’t even the original Thanos who did the Snap in the first place! Etc, etc.

... Yeah. That movie sucked, lmao.

Thank you for the ask!

mcu fanfiction ask game.

#ask memes #charlotte replies #fanfic things #charlotte bitches about endgame #might as well add this to the tag #a nonny mouse #Anonymous

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

asks :)

y’all are killing me, but like in the best possible way 😭

rhi,,, i have been FED. i am so GRATEFUL for the MEAL. 😤 it never ceases to amaze me how talented you are 😭💞 seijoh supremecy reigns!!! and let me tell you,,, makki... just.... ✨makki “stronger than he looks, makki”✨ i frothed,,, we love our underappreciated strawberry on this blog!!!

all i want is for makki to pin me down and fuck me until i’m sobbing. and timeskip makki?? i love him so much 🥺

and thank you, bby!!

Rhi. First of all holy shit??? I had to take a deep breath because holy fuck that was just 🥵🥵🥵. I rarely read Mattsun or Makki fics but ugh, I really looked forward to this and holy hell you did not disappoint! Damn. Because you mentioned that this was supposed to be another Seijoh 4 fic, I'd like to consider this as an alternate version of your Manager au and ugh the biggest question! Who did Makki send the pics to? Oikawa and Iwa to tell them what they're missing out? Or to the mystery boyfriend because they finally staked their claim on reader-chan?

Hmmm seeing that the Jackals are the ones in Osaka, I feel like it's any of the four? Omg what if it was Hinata???? But I'll probably feel sad if it was Meian cuz I love him 😭😭😭

sdfghjjhgfhjkl thank you!!!!! i was like ‘okay, you’re not gonna make this about all four of them’ and then my brain ignored all of that entirely and decided just to sprinkle in some hints. i like to think that a lot of things that probably crossed a line happened back in their last year at highschool between all five of them that the reader either rationalises or brushed off, so it is kind of intended as an alternate manager au i guess.

and yeah, makki sent the pics to both iwa, oikawa and your (soon to be ex) boyfriend :)

Hot damn! Baby it’s cold outside is phenomenal!!! I loved the buildup. Am I wrong to assume that iwa and oikawa had some idea of what was going to happen?

oh no, they absolutely knew 👀 and thank you!!

wait omg did makki send those pics to himself or to your boyfriend (perhaps iwa and oikawa?) but wow amazing work as always!! 💕

one set to your boyfriend, another to their captain 😌

Sooo, Oikawa and Iwa were in on it, but why didn't they want to take part?

it’s not so much that they didn’t want to, more that they didn’t want to overwhelm you all once - but dw, they haven’t gone far 👀

The funny thing about timezones is that I often read your fics a few minutes after I wake up at 5am and lol, I end up thinking about them the whole day. They're basically my breakfast at this point lol

timezones are a bitch and i would fight them bare fisted if i could. no but that’s probably the best way to read them, still half asleep 😂 thank you tho!! i’m glad you like them so much!

i love ur soulmate aus 😭 sometimes i wish i could read outrunning fate for the first time again

this is so sweet, thank you, bby!!

out of all your oikawa’s, which one is your fave 😌

but i love them all so much?? unpopular opinion i think, but maybe home! oikawa

kuroo calling you “kitten/sweetheart” and oikawa calling you “his pretty girl/cutie” makes me 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

this makes me so happy because i am an absolute whore for pet-names so they inevitably find their way into my fics - glad i’m not the only one who like them haha

i hesrd soulmate dabihawks and my brain malfunctioned in a good way we can never be sick of soulmate aus

i think i promised to write something for dabi & hawks waaaay back when i started this blog and i still haven’t so maybe now’s the perfect time 👀

ahhhhh im literally gonna go beserk when u open comms i got a whole note in my notes app titled 'bbydoll comms' n like its just a list of comm ideas im so fucking excited

wait, really?? omfg you’re gonna make me melt!!

you're my favourite writer!! each one of your fics is always so well written and interesting and i just--- omg. i have reread practically all your work i literally always go back to it <3

thank you so much, you’re so nice i hope you’re having a good day, bby!

saw dark content slander “ur sick bastards, get help” I AM BEYOND FUCKING PISSEd who the hell are y’all to tell us what to do and what to like. wtf. i’ve been seeing so much shit and it’s like “ok, and??” mind ur own fucking business, block. no one needs to hear ur opinion about it lmao. they be acting like they’re content makes them a better person. what u condone irl and what u condone in fiction is very very different. anyways thanks for listening to my rant, i’m sure u get a lot of shit from random people about dc haha

it’s frustrating, but at the end of the day it’s better just to ignore it and keep enjoying the content you want to - that’s not hurting anybody. you’re never going to change their minds and they’re not interested in that - so long as the content is appropriately tagged it shouldn’t be an issue, but i get where the frustration comes into play

and honestly compared to a lot of dark content writers i think i get off pretty lightly with hate, thank god

#BD answers #ask #anon #BD love #fic q's

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

My Best Friend’s Wedding

Billy Hargrove x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader (One Sided), Robin Buckley x OC

Word Count: 7,363

Warnings: Crying, heartbreak, true love!!!!!

Author’s Note: Um...hi. So, I’m back. It’s been awhile. How are you? I’m okay, little nervous to post since my last story flopped really badly, but again I’m confident in this one and that you’ll like this story. I sure do! As always, leave some comments if you like it and criticism if you don’t I like both! I love hearing what you think!

Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @moonstruckbucky @thechickvic @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @hawkeyeharrington @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @spidey-pal @mickmoon @buckybarneshairpullingkink @baebee35 @myrealloveissleep @allfandomxreader

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Steve Harrington was getting married. What a douchebag thing to do. Marrying the first girl to say that she loved him. You’d been doing that for twenty-one years. And he decided to marry a girl that he hadn’t even introduced to you yet. You’d been his best friend since birth. You couldn’t believe it.

He told you on your winter break. Both of you had only been home for a few days. Steve had gone to Gary to train at their police academy and you’d gone to Indianapolis for college. You both returned home for winter break. You were hoping to enjoy a couple weeks back with your best friend. You’d planned your whole break around it. But you couldn’t even get him to leave the house for ten minutes the first week home. You hadn’t met her yet, but you’d heard her voice when you called. Steve said her name was Cathy. She sounded like she was fifteen. She literally answered the phone by saying ‘yellow?’ like a damn character in Valley Girl. What a fucking joke.

To say you were jealous was an understatement. Steve was your guy. Your best friend. Your one true love. He didn’t know that part yet, but it was obvious. You had the chemistry, you had the mutual attraction, and you had the spark, that bit of electricity Steve had been in search of since you were thirteen. You were it. But there Steve was with Cathy. He brought her to dinner. She was a freshman at Ivy Tech. She was studying nursing. She had mousy brown hair and high cheekbones. She looked like Nancy Wheeler, but with a sweeter, easier going personality. She didn’t know that Steve pissed his pants after seeing Poltergeist. She was everything Steve thought he wanted. He’d be bored of her in five years.

You pouted through that dinner and the rest of the break. Steve barely paid you any mind, he was too busy flashing his hot new soon to be trophy wife around. Her round cut diamond ring on its ugly notched yellow gold band flashing in the sunlight on her pale, milky skin making your blood boil. You just knew he bought her a new ring, his grandmother’s engagement ring was much smaller and classier than what she had on. She made him buy her a new ring. God, what a fucking bitch.

You went back to Indianapolis enraged. You flew through the small towns in your crappy car to get back home. Your roommate, Robin, made it back to your tiny apartment before you did, which meant that Billy Hargrove had his feet up on your coffee table. You let out a beleaguered sigh when you saw the soles of his dirty white tube socks waving to you from atop your psychology textbooks.

“Hargrove, feet off the books. They cost more than you do.” You groaned, dropping your army style duffle bag by your door. Billy chuckled, doing as you asked. You felt his eyes run over you, which you didn’t entirely get the point of. You looked the same, although slightly greasier from your long drive home.

“You don’t know my rates, kid.” He replied, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes, waving a polite hello to Robin, who was watching the scene with a bemused look from the kitchen. You headed to your bedroom without another word, hoping for solace in the solitude of your private space. You felt like dying the second your knees hit the mattress. He was leaving you. He was leaving you for a boring brunette named Cathy. He was leaving you for someone who didn’t even laugh at his jokes. The love of your life was marrying someone else. It hit you like running full force into a brick wall. Your brain felt like it was shaking in your skull, your nose crushed into your face as tears began to carve burning streams down your face and your nose turned red and stuffy. You were very aware of the fact that people were in your apartment, that if Robin was home then she’d call Beth and the three of them would probably spark up and would coming knocking on your door soon. But in that moment, you needed to cry. You needed to let go of every ill feeling that had been clogging your chest since Steve had told you of his plan.

You didn’t know how long you’d been in there for, your only sense of time being the markers of when the stereo turned on and off. When you heard a knock on your door, you didn’t move. Whoever was on the other side would just invite themselves in anyway.

“Hey, we’re going to get some food, you coming or-” Billy’s sentence came to an abrupt end when you lifted your face from the pillow, mascara streaking your cheeks. “Oh shit.” He shut the door fast. You both heard Robin yelling from behind the door for him to hurry up, but neither of you moved. Billy didn’t seem quite sure of himself, as if he didn’t know what to do now that he’d closed the door.

“I’m good, go on Hargrove.” You sighed, wiping hard at your damp and warm skin.

Billy didn’t move. “Are you gonna be okay?” he asked quietly.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” you bit back bitterly. You wished he would leave you be. Billy was the last person you wanted to see you cry, much less to be there to comfort you. He wasn’t your damn friend, you hardly knew him. He was just the guy who hung out in your living room and ate your food. He was Robin’s friend, not yours.

“What happened?” he asked, venturing closer to you.

You let out a sigh. Well, at least he wouldn’t tell Steve about this. “Harrington’s getting married.” You replied, your voice cracking. You needed a drink of water or something, crying had truly drained you.

“Isn’t he your age? You can barely drink.” He scoffed. It was almost refreshing. He seemed to not believe it as much as you did.

“Yeah, he is and he’s marrying a near stranger. They’ve only been together like eight months.” Your mouth turned up in a nauseated scowl. Billy watched your lips as they curled up in disgust. He smirked, trying to hold back a bubble of laughter. You looked so genuinely turned off by the thought, it was funny.

“So he’s an idiot. Why cry over him?” Billy asked, sitting down carefully on your bed. You pulled your legs up to your knees, wrapping your arms around them, tucking your chin behind them.

“Because he’s my idiot…” you muttered softly. Billy raised an eyebrow, egging you on. “I love him. I’ve loved him since I was ten years old…”

“Damn…” Billy breathed out.

“I know…” you replied, wiping your eyes on your long grey sleeves.

“You have awful taste.” He said. You gasped, throwing a pillow at his head. It hit with a smack, sending him falling back a bit, his big callused hands sliding back to support himself. You burst out laughing as it hit, you usually had pretty bad aim so you were shocked when it hit. You clasped a hand over your mouth, your eyes crinkling as you tried to hide your glee. Billy rolled his eyes, but his infamous smirk pulled at his lips.

“You don’t know Steve like I do!” you giggled, dodging the pillow as it came back at your head.

“And you don’t know him like I do.” Billy replied. He didn’t actually aim the pillow near your head, he knew he’d hit you square in the head and he didn’t want to hurt you. Your bedroom door flew open and Robin stood in the doorway, adjusting her leather jacket around her shoulders, the hood of her bright red hoodie poking out of the back and over the collar.

“Nerds are you coming with or are you having a sleepover? Beth and I are starving.” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest with a stern expression. You could see Beth pulling up her long brown hair behind Robin, her emerald green fitted coat buttoned up as high as it would go and her burgundy scarf tucked into it. The weather must have turned on them, the temperature dropping again.

“Geez, yeah gimme a second.” You grabbed your lavender coloured cardigan from its place on the bed next to you and pulling it around yourself as you climbed out of bed. Billy followed behind you, shrugging as Robin raised an eyebrow at him.

From that point on, Billy became your wedding confidant. As the date was set and began to loom closer and closer, he stood by you, listening to you rant about Cathy and Steve and their fucking bliss. You were going to be a bridesmaid, Cathy asked you since Steve’s mother wouldn’t let him make you a groomsman. They were having a June wedding. It was going to happen in Carmel, in the same hall his parents had gotten married in. Steve’s parents were paying for everything, including your awful magenta taffeta nightmare. Billy listened to everything you could come up with, every awful insult you’ve come up with for Cathy. He watched you laugh, you cry, you scream at the sky. For the first time in knowing you, he genuinely felt for you.

In March, you got your invitation to the wedding, along with a note from Cathy. Apparently, all her other bridesmaids had dates and that you should bring a date too, so you wouldn’t be awkward. You wanted to strangle the girl. Billy was sitting on your couch when you walked into your apartment, dropping your heavy book bag on the floor, invitation still held in hand and mouth agape.

“Hey, what’s up?” Billy asked, flicking his gaze away from the magazine in his hands.

You looked up briefly “Shouldn’t you be in class?” Billy was in trade school. He was supposed to be learning to be an electrician. Instead, he had his dirty feet on your coffee table.

“I don’t feel ready yet. What’s that?” he pointed to the eggshell coloured expensive paper in your hands.

“Oh, just my invitation to the Harrington-Bray wedding and a lovely note from the bride herself.” You smirked, kicking off your tennis shoes before joining Billy on the couch. He immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“What’s she bugging you about now?” he asked, unable to hide the small, satisfied grin that pulled at his lips as you snuggled into him. He was glad that your attention was still on the invitation.

Yeah, he was utterly fucked over you. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it to himself. He would never admit it to anyone else, but he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t have feelings for you. He did. Sometime between finding you crying in your bedroom and now, he’d fallen head over feet into a pit of mushy gushy feelings that he hadn’t had to tackle before and he couldn’t escape. Before you, women fell into about three categories: old ladies in charge, women he could fuck, and women he wouldn’t fuck. But you didn’t fit into any category. Well, I mean you fit very neatly into the women he’d fuck category, but you were more than that. He wanted to make you happy, to help you when you’re upset and to harm anyone who hurt you, and to protect you from harm’s way. You felt precious and special to him, something he didn’t quite know how to tackle. So, he ignored it. He hoped you couldn’t feel the way his heart pounded in his chest as he looked over the invitation you held loosely in your right hand.

“Well, Cathy has informed me that all her other bridesmaids have dates and that, to not stand out, I should bring one too. Because wouldn’t it be fucking loopy if I didn’t have a damn date.” You huffed out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest.

Billy paused for a moment. Then, squeezing his eyes shut, he took a risk, his first in months. “I’ll go with you if you need a date.” He said.

You furrowed your brow “Why would you want to go? You hate Steve.” You asked.

“Well, for one thing watching Harrington make the biggest mistake of his life in a monkey suit will be pretty funny.” He said, earning a smack in the chest from you. “And for another, I want to help you out. You need a date, I’m there.”

You picked up your invitation, looking it over sceptically. “Are you sure? I mean it’s in the beginning of June, I don’t want to drag you away from your finals or anything, I don’t know when you’re done school for the year…”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal, my exams are in a couple weeks anyway.” Billy replied with a shrug. Even if his finals were during that week, he would’ve skipped them to go with you. He wanted, no he needed to be there with you. He didn’t give two shits about Harrington, he could make mistakes whenever, but he had to be there to hold your hand when you needed him to.

“You’re gonna have to wear a monkey suit too you know.” You said with a small smirk.

“Its fine, I think mine still fits from my dad’s funeral.” He replied. You sat up, pulling a pen from the spirals of one of your forgotten notebooks and checked off the ‘plus one’ option on your invitation.

“Chicken or Steak?” you asked, checking off the chicken option for yourself. “Oh and also? You can’t laugh at me in my dumb dress. I got sent pictures of it and it’s bad. It’s really bad.”

“Steak and I won’t. I’ll be too busy laughing at everything else.” He chuckled, earning another smack in the chest from you before you checked off the plus one card Cathy’s expensive invitations had provided.

For the next two months, you did everything you could to ignore Cathy’s calls. She invited you to the bridal shower and the bachelorette party, both of which you refused with the same excuse. Steve called you twice to bitch you out. The third time he called to complain, you actually fought back.

“Y/N, can you please try with Cathy? She’s trying to be nice.” Steve groaned. You were sat on the couch, having forced Robin to turn down the radio so you could actually hear Steve on the other end. She and Beth were just making out anyway; they didn’t need to have it up so loud anyway. Hearing Debbie Gibson on top volume didn’t make anything more romantic.

“I am trying; I’m in her bridal party aren’t I? I’m coming up three days before the wedding to help her get ready. Isn’t that enough?” you tried, twirling the phone cord around your fingers.

“She was really upset that you didn’t come up for her bridal shower or her Bachelorette party.” Steve replied.

“I had exams during her bridal shower and I couldn’t afford to take the time off work for the party. I’m not rich like your families are Steve. I have rent to pay and classes to pass. If I fail, I don’t have a soft place to land like you do Steve.” That wasn’t exactly the kindest thing to say in the moment, but you were tired of this conversation. You felt like you’d been having it for weeks.

“That’s not fair, Y/N, you know that’s not how my life is.” Steve said.

“Oh really? Then why are your parents paying for your whole wedding? Why is your dad holding a job for you at his company? Why is Cathy already invited to the country club with full membership? Why does she spend her breaks at her family’s ski lodge in Aspen? Steve, you’re not as put upon as you like to act. I’m doing everything in my power to be there for you and Cathy, but my life and experiences are different than yours.”

Steve hung up without a reply, effectively ending the conversation there. You hung up the phone with a slam, crossing your arms over your chest. What a fucking jerk! He didn’t have the right to treat you like shit, especially over damn Cathy. You’d been his best friend for over a decade and you’d been trumped by a little skinny Minnie with no tits. A rich bitch with a collection of tennis skirts and preppy pastel blazers to rival Princess Diana herself. She wasn’t supposed to be his best friend, his choice for the rest of his life. That was supposed to be your job. You were supposed to be the person who made him happy, not some country clubber. And yet your place was glowing in the horizon. Behind the holy Cathy, your spotlight dimmed and left behind to wail your song alone under the ghost light. Except your song was bursting from your broken heart.

You wouldn’t stand for being left behind for some bitch named Cathy.

There was only thing to do. It was something you were avoiding doing since you were twelve years old.

Billy came to pick you up for the long journey to Carmel even though he didn’t have to be there until the sixth. You both refused to stay in Hawkins, too many bad memories there. He was staying in the same hotel as you. You were going a couple days early for your dress fitting and to tote Cathy around. But that wasn’t the reason you were nervous sitting in Billy’s leather seats. You had to find Steve once you got there.

Of course, Billy was nervous too. This trip was going to end in heartbreak. You were going to watch the love of your life marry someone else. And Billy was going to watch you cry knowing that he would never hurt you like this. He would sit there and try to not let it show how much it hurt to watch you be in pain. The ride to Hawkins was tense and silent, safe for Billy’s static filled radio switching between talk radio and the hits of the day, depending on what frequency it picked up. Neither of you try to fix it. You both were too anxious to bother.

When you arrived in Carmel, Mrs. Harrington and sweet little Cathy were at your hotel. You were whisked off to your fitting and then lunch in Carmel. You left Billy in the dust that day, forced to grapple with the town that tried to kill him twice and almost succeeded. He spent the day in his hotel room and you spent your day trying to get to Steve.

Day two was a free day, safe for the rehearsal dinner that night, beginning at the church. You were told implicitly to bring your date to the dinner, as Cathy had laid out a spot for you both at the wedding table. There you met her three other bridesmaids, her sister Jessica, her cousin Ellen, and her best friend Kelly. All three of them looked nearly identical, with matching shoulder length hair cuts and pristine white pleated tennis skirts. All their boyfriends looked the same too, with their pastel polos and white padded blazers. They all shook Billy’s hand as if it was dirty. The girls looked at the pair of you like you were white trash.

You didn’t find Steve first, Billy did. The meeting didn’t exactly go well. You’d gone to the bathroom and when you returned Billy and Steve were staring each other down with the same intensity that they did in high school. You parted them quickly, smiling at Steve sympathetically.

“What is he doing here, Y/N?” Steve asked through gritted teeth.

“He’s my date, Steve, he’s a friend of mine.” You replied simply, pushing Billy away as he tried to come back into the situation. Steve scoffed loudly, but turned away without another word. You turned to Billy quickly. “What the hell was that, dude?”

“I just came over to say hello and he got in my face!” Billy cried, pointing at his back as Steve stalked away.

“Can you just keep your chill for a day? Please? For me?” you whispered, squeezing his hand gently.

Billy’s expression softened instantly and he nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ll try.” He said.

“Thank you,” you said “I’m going to try to talk to Steve, hang tight okay?”

Billy nodded and you headed towards where you saw Steve go. He had headed out the main entrance, to where Cathy would be sent when they were ready to begin the rehearsal. You wiped your sweating palms on your royal blue skirt. You took in a deep breath through your nose and pushed open the heavy wooden doors, to find Steve Harrington practically ripping out his hair.

“Steve?” you asked quietly. He turned to look at you, his expression not changing when he saw you.

“You couldn’t have brought anyone else, could you?” he bit out, pulling his hands through his hair one more time before crossing his arms over his chest.

“He asked, I agreed. He’s not the same guy he was here.” You replied, adjusting your purse strap.

“Bullshit,” he chuckled coldly “He’s still the same douche he was a couple years ago. Nobody changes that much.”

“You did.” Steve went to retort you, but closed his mouth without speaking a word. You pressed on “Robin trusts him, they’re pretty much best friends, and I trust him. He’s been really good to me these past few months. Been my friend while my best friend was missing in action.”

Steve was silent for a moment. “I’ve been busy, Y/N, I had to help plan a wedding.” He muttered.

“And I’m supposed to be my best friend. That doesn’t change when you get a girlfriend. You promised me that, remember? After Wheeler that was our deal. And you broke that with her.” You replied.

“Don’t call Cathy ‘her’. She’s not just some girl.” Steve snapped.

“Why didn’t you introduce me before you got engaged? You had the time, it wasn’t like you just met her. I didn’t even know that you were even seeing anyone seriously.” You replied, matching his tone.

“Because, sometimes a man likes to have his secrets! What, Hargrove over there not keeping anything from you?” Steve cried. The large church doors opened again and revealed Cathy, shuffling in her Mary-Jane’s with a shy expression.

“Honey?” she asked, drawing Steve’s attention and softening his expression instantly “We’re ready to start if you are.”

“Just, give me one second, okay sweetie?” he said, his tone softer and kinder with her. He turned to you with a less than kind expression, nodding for you to head to your group. When you didn’t move, he spoke “You should go with Cathy, go learn your job.”

You left without a word. The rest of the rehearsal went by in a blur. You were put second in line to enter the church, supposedly and were given the role of train fixer before Cathy walked into the church. You were given specific instructions on how to hold your bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath in front of you. You went through the walk in and then listened to the pair go over the ceremony with the pastor in charge of marrying them. Supposedly they’d written their own vows. You looked to Billy, who looked utterly bored with the other boyfriends. When the rehearsal ended, you were all told to join the Harrington’s at their home for dinner.

Steve grabbed your arm as you were leaving the church. You hung back without a word as he told Cathy to go on without him. “Look,” he began once his fiancé had passed “I’m sorry I got mad at you. I was out of line. I was just surprised when I saw you and Hargrove together. It weirded me out. But I’m okay now.”

“Look, it’s whatever, you don’t like him and that’s fine. I’m a bit tired, will you apologize to your mom to me? I’m gonna bail on the dinner.” You replied with a small shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was seventy-five degrees outside but you were freezing.

“Are you sure? I don’t think it will be a big deal…” Steve said, his warm hands coming to your bare shoulder, warming your skin and melting your heart.

“Nah,” you chuckled “Besides, you don’t really want Hargrove in your house anyway, right? Just tell your mom we went home.”

Steve laughed “That’s fair,” he released your arm “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Duh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You elbowed him in the arm before heading off. Billy was watching from the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes trained on the ground. You ran up and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s blow this pop stand.” You said with a cheeky grin.

“Where’re we going, princess?” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. He usually wouldn’t do that, but then again you didn’t usually wrap yourself around him in public. He took the chance on you pulling away for a moment to hold you.

“Benny’s? If it’s still open, I guess.” You replied. The idea of Benny’s not being open anymore hit you like a truck. How much had Hawkins changed since you left?

Evidently, not that much. The Harrington’s still lived on Pine Street and Benny’s was still open, its owner having been dead for almost seven years. You found yourself in its yellowed dining room, eating greasy burgers and fries while discussing the old days here. You weren’t friends with Billy in high school and you hardly paid him much mind, so all his stories were fresh to you. He told you all about his whoring days and his wild child moments. How he broke into the library to screw around with Diana Krass and denied breaking a window when the police came around. He was the reason the library got security cameras. You nearly died when he told you about catching Melissa Rankers and Caroline Spears writing out someone’s phone number in the boy’s locker room. A ‘For a good time call’ situation. You made him laugh his ass of when you told him it was yours and all the crazy calls you got that year from desperate boys looking for phone sex. He couldn’t top your story about how Tommy Hanson called you after his breakup with Carol and would not believe that you weren’t a phone sex operator. The fact that you knew what his sex noises were disturbed you both. You spent your evening laughing and joking with Billy.

It felt like you were hanging out with Steve. But different. You closed down Benny’s and drove around till almost five in the morning. You barely made it to bed.

You were woken up at ten by your hotel room phone ringing off the hook. Mrs. Harrington, Cathy, Ellen, Jessica, and Kelly were all here in room two thirteen. You had to join them to start getting ready. Apparently, there were mimosas. The call made you feel more exhausted than you felt when you woke up. But you went, grabbing your makeup and the robe the hotel provided, padding over to their room.

The group was rowdy. You were introduced to Cathy’s mother, who hugged you like she meant it. She seemed to have already indulged in a few mimosas before you’d even arrived. You spent your morning mostly drinking and waiting around. They only had one makeup artist and one hair stylist who were styling everyone and no one had decided on how you should look. You ended up looking like a clown, your hair too big and blown out for your face and your makeup hair too bright. And your dress was worse in person. You’d tried it on in the shop, but in natural lighting you got the full picture. Horrid satin and taffeta all the same shade of sickly magenta, with a tulle filled a-line skirt and scratchy puff sleeves and a square neckline. This dress did nothing for your chest and hips, not that your hair and makeup was helping. You pulled a bit of baby’s breath out of your bouquet and tucked it into your up-do. Apparently, you were supposed to bring your own jewellery and hair accessories, so the bit of greenery would have to suffice. You tucked your feet into the matching heels and smoothed your skirt, looking over the other bridesmaids. Jessica looked alright in the dress, but overall all four of you looked a bit like clowns.

And then, Cathy appeared. And she looked just as bad! She seemed thoroughly disappointed, but trying to hide it with a tight lipped smile. Her dress seemed to be modeled on Princess Diana’s, with its off the shoulder cream puff sleeves and sweetheart neckline, but where on Princess Diana it looked royal on Cathy it looked cheap. Her skirt seemed a bit too big to move in and the big bow on the small of her back seemed silly. She didn’t look happy with her dress, but she simply adjusted her veil and fixed her cherry red lipstick, nodding at her reflection. Her mother appeared behind her in a bright purple sparkly number with a matching jacket, complete with shoulder pads. Her eyes were misty. Clearly, this was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Your little group headed downstairs to your town cars and you headed to the church. You hoped Billy had made it to the church on time. You hoped Robin and Beth had made it into town and that no one had stopped them or shunned them for being gay. Most of all, you hoped you could hold it together through this thing.

The ceremony took a long time to start. You contemplated going to find Steve. To tell him how you feel, to convince him to run away. But something kept you right where you stood in the church’s entrance way. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t ruin his happy day. Steve loved Cathy today. Maybe he wouldn’t tomorrow, in six months, in a year or twenty-but today he loved her. And you wanted him to be happy. So you’d shut your mouth and let him have this. But as the ceremony started and you began your walk up to him at the altar, your heart shattered. In another life, that would be you he was waiting for. But it was Cathy. You couldn’t watch them during the ceremony. You kept your eyes on Billy, who was only watching you. His steely blue eyes on yours kept you calm as tears bubbled in your eyes and emotion clogged your throat.

When it all ended, you rushed to get out of the church. Billy’s arm came around you the second he found you. He let you cry into his white dress shirt and ruin it with your makeup filled tears. He held you till your breathing evened out, then he wiped your cheeks and led you to his car.

“Did Robin make it okay?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you adjusted your skirts. Billy stood holding your door, waiting to shut you into the car. He narrowed his eyes, looking you over the same way he did when he first found you crying over Steve all those months ago.

“Is that really what you’re worried about right now?” he asked.

You smiled, your expression still watery. “No, but it’s what I’d rather think about.” You said. Billy frowned, shutting the door and walking to his own, popping it open and climbing in.

“Yeah, they made it in fine. They sat in the back and, according to Beth, they spent the whole time making fun of Cathy’s butt bow. And your dress.” He explained, turning on the engine.

“I look awful, don’t I?” you asked. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, your mind was all over the place.

“No!” Billy corrected, looking into the rear view as he backed out of his spot before turning out of the parking lot. “You look like a beautiful Kool-Aid man.” You smacked him hard in the shoulder, gasping loudly. Billy laughed at this, looking you over. You really did look beautiful, despite the awful dress. Nothing could muffle your beauty.

“Your makeup…um…it ran a little bit. There are some tissues in the glove compartment…” he added, looking away. You flipped down the mirror to look yourself over. Your tears had carved black stripes down your cheeks, washing away your foundation and destroying your blush and eyeliner. You sighed, popping open the glove compartment and pulled out a handful of tissues, wetting them with your own spit and wiping away the makeup as best you could.

“Oh god, I look awful. I can’t believe I walked around like this.” You groaned, rubbing at the garish pink blush painted like rosacea on your cheeks. That makeup artist had something against you.

“You look fine, don’t worry about it. Cathy looked worse than you, her hair looked like it hurt.” Billy replied as you wiped away the bubblegum pink lipstick from your lips. Billy tried not to watch you and your puffy lips, focusing hard on the road ahead.

“I look better, now that I’m getting this shit off my face.” You replied, focusing on getting the shit brown eye shadow off your lids. Once you toned it down, you felt a bit better. They’d already taken all the pictures they needed outside the church, you didn’t need to keep up appearances now.

Billy pulled into the parking lot of the reception hall and let you out quickly. He offered you his hand before you walked in and you didn’t let it go until dinner was served. Throughout the couples making the rounds to the tables during cocktail hour and the speeches before the meal was served, you squeezed his hand whenever you felt yourself getting emotional, grounding yourself to him and to something safe. You made your rounds to Robin and Beth, who looked much better than you. They laughed at your little ensemble and made you do a full spin to really show off the skirt. They laughed far too hard at you, but Billy didn’t even chuckle. As soon as you were done, his arm came right back around you. Robin and Beth exchanged a look that you couldn’t quite interpret. You returned to your seat when dinner was served and sat through a nauseating round of the newlywed game while they served dessert. Billy made sure to distract you when the questions got too lovey-dovey, cracking jokes in your ear and, when in doubt, covering your ears.

But he couldn’t protect you from the first dance. As it turns out, Jessica fancied herself a singer and was tasked with performing the couple’s song. Steve and Cathy went to the dance floor as the slow piano intro to Elvis Presley’s I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You began to flow through the room. Jessica’s nasal voice took the lead vocals, crooning out the opening lines “Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help falling in love with you…” the song was so cliché for the wedding. You tried to mock it to keep away the emotion, but it was all too much. The tears began to fall as Cathy’s head came to Steve’s shoulder.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes; something’s were meant to be…”

Billy’s hand squeezed yours. His heart was breaking, watching you try to hold back tears as Steve and Cathy danced in their own blissful bubble. As the chorus came around again, you broke away, rushing to the nearest exit. You both knew that you couldn’t take anymore. Billy followed behind you without a second’s hesitation.

He found you in the lobby, hands crushed to your face. He wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling your back to him. “Oh, please, leave me alone Bill. I need to be alone…” you sobbed.

“I won’t leave out here to cry alone, Y/N, you’re not alone.” He replied, holding you tighter.

“I love him, Billy…” you cried, turning in his arms to press your face into his chest “Why doesn’t he love me?”

“Because…because he’s an idiot, Y/N, any man would be lucky to have you love him.” He replied, petting your hair softly. It felt stiff from hairspray, but he didn’t care. As selfish as it was, this was the best part of his day. Having you hold him like you loved him.

“What does she have that I don’t have? I’ve been there for him his whole life. And suddenly this girl is his whole world. I’ve spent so long trying to maintain a place in his life and this girl can just show up and get a spot without question.” You muttered. That felt selfish to say, but you felt as though you earned a bit of selfish thinking.

“Because Steve lives in his own world. And we just orbit it. But you? You deserve to be someone’s whole world. You deserve to be the first person someone thinks of in the morning and the last thing they think of at night. You deserve all that cheesy shit because you’re worth it.” He said quickly, pulling you away from his chest to look you in the eye. You looked so small and vulnerable in his arms.

“Why am I always trying to love someone who doesn’t give a damn about me?” you chuckled sadly, running your hands up and down the smooth material of Billy’s suit jacket.

In this moment, Billy had a choice. He could go the easy way or the hard way. Billy chose the easy way most of the time, he coasted through life without trying very often for anything. If it didn’t come easy, then he wasn’t going to work to have it. But today, for the first time since he came back the second time, he chose the hard choice.

“Y/N, watching you moon over Harrington is the single hardest thing I have done in my life, that man is an idiot,” Billy said firmly, squeezing your waist slightly to ground himself to the moment.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to burden you with all of this, I-”

“He’s an idiot for not loving you.” Billy cut you off, silencing you with a look. He looked anxious. You’d never seen him anxious before.

“He’s an idiot because you’re so easy to love. I fell in love with you two weeks after I found out about Harrington and I don’t love girls. I don’t. I didn’t think it was in my damn DNA but here you are, with your pretty eyes and your jokes and your smile and I fell for you so fast. And watching you chase after Harrington, cry over Harrington, rant and rave about that damn asshole killed me! Because he’s not worth it! Look, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, you probably don’t, but please move on from him. You deserve the world, not a stupid spot in someone else’s.”

Billy was out of breath when he finished his little speech, staring into your eyes as your tears dried and your mouth fell open.

“Your…you’re in love with me?” you asked slowly. Your mouth felt dry and arid, your heart was pounding loudly in your ears.

“Yeah, shocking I know.” Billy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. He tried to pull away from you, but you refused to let go. Your hands came up to his cheek, stroking the skin there briefly before placing a feather light kiss on his lips, tentative and slow. You were unsure of yourself, unsure if you were even in the right mind to make this kind of choice, but all your worries melted away when your lips touched. It wasn’t the fireworks Steve had been describing for your entire adolescence, it was safe and comforting. Your heart filled with joy, you worries fell away. Suddenly, without warning, you were home. You were home in his arms and you were home on his lips. You hadn’t felt at home since Steve hugged you goodbye when you made the trek to college. But home wasn’t with Steve anymore, he had his own home with Cathy now. But home could be with Billy.

He pulled away first, pushing you back by your shoulders. “You don’t have to do this, Y/N, it’s okay I understand-”

“Billy,” you silenced him instantly “I don’t kiss anyone unless I want to. I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you. Look,” you sighed, scuffing the toe of your ugly wedding shoes on the linoleum, looking up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know how I feel about anything right now, I’m not certain, but I feel safe with you. I like you. Platonically and romantically. And all I want is to feel safe with someone. So, can we try?”

Billy looked your face over, his big callused hand coming to your cheek, wiping a stray teardrop from your lower lashes. You nuzzled into the warmth of his palm. He moved his hand to under your chin, pulling your lips to his, kissing you harder and deeper than before, wrapping his free arm around your waist, pulling you flush with him.

This was all he wanted. The moment he dreamed of. Thinking about you made him feel weak, like a pathetic child. But having you in his arms, it made him feel like it was okay to be weak. That he didn’t have to be strong all the time. You made him feel strong, even when he was acting weak and vulnerable. He felt secure with you. That wasn’t a luxury he took for granted.

The kiss awoke the last bit of feeling you were missing with him. Billy was golden haloed, bright like the sun and shining. He was solid and present, a lighthouse in a storm. He was your rock. You hadn’t realized that you’d been clinging to him until he almost disappeared. He didn’t know you like Steve, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

When Billy let you go, the smile that spread across your face was impossible to hide. Billy’s expression matched yours, a genuine smile from a guy who rarely did more than smirk. The look melted your heart even more, turning goo into pure liquid.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Are you sure? You don’t exactly do this every day.” You countered, smacking him in the chest lightly.

Billy rolled his eyes “Oh shut up, I’m trying here.” You smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Come on, let’s go back in before people start asking questions. I don’t want Cathy in my business, she’s so nosey.” You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in yours.

“Oh, total Carol? I heard her and Tommy talking shit in the back about your dress. Want me to beat him up?” Billy replied, following you back into the hall.

You gasped “No!” Billy laughed loudly, shaking his head. The band had started up again and the leader asked for all the lovers in the room to join the bride and groom on the floor. “I just want to dance, alright?” Billy nodded and let you lead him onto the floor. You wrapped yourself in his arms again, placing your head on his chest and listened to his heart beat.

The day wasn’t perfect, and it certainly didn’t end the way you expected it to, but in Billy’s arms, you felt okay with how it went. You weren’t with Steve Harrington, but that wasn’t something to cry over anymore. Billy Hargrove was here to make you feel invincible again.

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lillupon · 3 years

Note

So, I've got a very long rant/opinion here and Idk really know how to say this without coming off kinda bad but I'm gonna say it anyways. I agree with the fact that the seventeen tag has been kinda dry lately on most fanfic places, but it's really only in the smut area. It's the sane way with other groups too I feel like. All of the nice little innocent tags are boomin to this day and thats completely fine. I think the smut tag is dry tho bc lately I feel like a few social issues (like sexualizing people and disrespecting them and their identity) have crossed over into kpop and have been ?blown out of proportion? Lately there's been a rampage of people who like to say that writing smut about someone is disgusting and is dehumanizing because people want to assume that it would make the idols uncomfortable which could equate to some morality issues on how you are reducing someone only to their body without their consent and a bunch of stuff like that. It kind of pisses me off bc this is fiction. About grown adults. Clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life. I think a shit ton is wrong with the world we currently live in, and deciding to come after something that isn't even real bothers me. Like what does that actually accomplish. But yeah, I think thats a reason why smut has been dying down. I mean, on youtube almost every video about unpopular opinions, or things they dont like about kpop will include something about shipping idols in fanfics. And then everyone in the comment section will talk about how its all fine and dandy in moderation, but once people start writing smut it's crossing the idols personal boundaries. It's something I've been seeing a lot more often and I think people who are interested in writing smut are being turned away from it bc we've gotten to a point where people are being called disgusting for having fantasies.

Hi Anon, thank you for sending in this Ask.

I want to preface this by saying: when I write or talk about Mingyu and Wonwoo fucking on my blog, it is a fantasy. I am not speculating about what the real Mingyu and Wonwoo might be like in bed. I am imagining the versions of Mingyu and Wonwoo that I have created in my head, that exist only in my stories. None of it is real. I understand that this can be a blurry boundary for some people. But for me, the separation between fantasy and reality is well-defined. Now, on to your Ask!

You’ve hit the nail on the head with this one. You’ve also touched on many of the issues I have been struggling with myself as of late. It’s difficult to argue about morals since everyone has a different set of values, as well as different comfort levels. Some people think real person fiction (RPF) is a gross invasion of privacy. Others are fine with it. And others don’t care one way or another. There is no single answer; I can only offer my answer. Which means, of course, people are welcome to disagree with it, or parts of it.

In this essay (LOL But forreal: this is an essay), I will be sharing my experience in the k-pop fanfic community from 2014 to present, the etiquette I personally abide by as a reader and writer of RPF, as well as my stance on RPF in general.

I started reading and posting fanfics back in 2014/2015 on a website called AsianFanfics (AFF). Obviously, no one on that site had a problem with RPF, since AFF is a platform made specifically for sharing stories about Asian celebrities. For many years, I read and enjoyed RPF with zero guilt. I scribbled away by myself in my own corner of fandom and curated my own content. I didn’t interact much with other fans, readers, or writers. I didn’t have a Twitter, and I only used tumblr to reblog memes. As a result, I’ve been able to avoid a lot of anti-shipping discourse, as well as purity and cancel culture. I had no idea there were so many negative opinions about RPF. It wasn’t until I became active on the subreddit r/Fanfiction last year that I learned about all the discourse surrounding RPF.

This newfound ‘awareness’ does make me feel guilty at times—but only because after mulling this over, I still don’t think this is something to feel guilty about.

Here’s what I remember, first and foremost, when I create and consume RPF: fanfics and my favourite ships are fictional, and fiction is fantasy. This is basic etiquette when it comes to RPF, and most people in the k-pop fandom understand this. Delusional fans exist, of course, but they are not representative of the entire k-pop community.

Another point of etiquette is to keep fanfics within fandom spaces. I would never push my fics into celebrities’ faces, or go around claiming that my fanfics are accurate representations of a k-idol’s life or personality, in any way, shape, or form. I would also discourage directing ship-related questions to official accounts, or bringing them up during fansigns or other face-to-face interactions; I believe that in these instances, shipping does have the potential to strain real-life relationships.

So with basic etiquette out of the way, let me share my approach to RPF in general.

As much as we like to think we know our favourite celebrities, we really don’t. All we see is their public persona. And this public persona is intentionally controlled, managed, and curated by a team of people: directors, tabloids, editors, makeup artists, publicists, etc. How “real” are these celebrities? We are so distanced from them that they may as well be fictional.

I draw from the public persona that idols project, and I work them into my own writing. But at the end of the day, these personalities are my own interpretation. My interpretation is probably nothing like an idol’s actual personality. I just use the “public persona/character” that idols portray as inspiration for my own stories, which are set in wildly different universes.

More than anything, I think of k-pop idols as “actors” in my fic. You know how when you write an original novel, you scroll through Google images, looking for the perfect person to portray your original character? RPF is literally that, except you might build upon pre-existing dynamics and personalities.

When it comes to explicit fanfiction, two main concerns are prevalent: one of consent, and one of sexualisation.

If we argue against explicit RPF due to lack of consent, we should be willing to apply the same lens to all explicit works. How do we know that the creator of a movie, book, series, etc., is okay with us using their characters in our stories, explicit or not? We don’t. Perhaps some creators encourage fanfiction, but don’t want their lovingly crafted characters engaging in sexual acts or experiencing trauma. We just don’t know. I feel this line is even more blurred when we talk about characters from movies or TV series.

Let’s take Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, as portrayed by Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan, from the Captain America movies as an example. I am willing to bet that when people consume and create explicit fanfiction about Steve and Bucky, they are imagining Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan in their heads. I doubt many people are imagining the 2D cartoon versions of Steve and Bucky, even though they’re technically the exact same characters. Why? Well, it could be because movies are more readily and easily consumed than comics, and so people are unfamiliar with comic book Steve and Bucky. But it might also be because fans find Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan attractive. Is this really any different from RPF, where fic authors make up everything about a celebrity’s life?

When readers and writers of fanfic talk about how hot Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes is, those comments are about Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan’s bodies. When reading explicit stories, fans are going to picture Chris and Sebastian’s bodies in their head, doing sexual things. Can we say, “Well, it’s not really you, Chris/Sebastian”, when in a way, it is?

The reality is, people are going to thirst over celebrities, regardless of whether or not explicit fanfiction exists. They’re going to post thirst tweets on Twitter. They’re going to talk to friends and strangers online about how hot [insert celebrity name here] is. They’re going to fantasize about dating and having sex with their favourite celebrity. Or, as it is in my case, they’re going to make up stories in their heads about their favourite idols dating and banging each other. People are going to do all of this without ‘getting consent’ from the celebrity. Cracking down upon and shaming writers of RPF isn’t going to change any of that.

To be honest, I’m not sure why people think it is disgusting to imagine sexual scenarios about real people. It is okay and normal to have these kinds of fantasies. I suppose the alternative is to fantasise about having sex with cartoon characters instead? It’s a very binary way of thinking to say that if you imagine/write real people in explicit scenarios, you are immediately sexualising, dehumanising, or objectifying them. There is more to dehumanisation than writing smut about our favourite celebrities. For one thing, you can love someone and appreciate all parts of them, and still want to fuck their brains out. And generally, fanfics come from a place of love—love that is not only sexual in nature.

Is it the sharing aspect inherent to fanfiction? The possibility that a celebrity might stumble upon explicit works about them? The chances are very low, I think, of the k-pop idols I enjoy writing about coming across my English fics. But I also believe in curating your own content, and that applies to celebrities too. Perhaps a celebrity should not go searching for fanfics about themselves. And of course, people should not show celebrities their fanfics, unless invited.

Another argument I hear against (explicit) RPF is, “How would you feel if someone wrote fanfiction about you?” First off, I don’t like this argument because there’s a difference between someone who decides to be a public figure versus someone who decides to remain a regular private citizen. Celebrities should and do know what they’re getting into when they choose their occupation. (This is not to say, “They are celebrities; sexualise them all you want because that’s what they signed up for.” Here, I am only acknowledging that people might have sexual fantasies about celebrities they are attracted to. Presumably, celebrities are cognizant of this.)

If someone (whose existence I am not even aware of, mind you) decides they want to write explicit fanfiction of me in some tiny corner of the Internet, I wouldn’t care so long as: (1) they don’t shove it into my face, and (2) they don’t harass me and ask invasive questions about my personal life and relationships. It’s not hurting me or negatively affecting my life, so it wouldn’t even register as a blip on my radar. When fanfiction remains within its appropriate spaces, it is largely harmless.

Now, if a k-pop idol were to ask their fans to stop writing fanfiction about them, would I? Yes, I would. However, I can’t imagine that happening. Judging by the number of ‘sexy’ concepts, fanservice moments, and variety shows such as ‘We Got Married’, I am certain that k-pop idols realise they are the stars of many fantasies—some of which are explicit in nature. Considering the prevalence of shipping in the k-pop industry, I would argue that shipping is subtly encouraged.

It’s sad that so many talented writers are shamed out of fandom, or feel that k-pop cannot be the medium through which they tell their stories, or explore their sexuality, or cope with trauma, or simply have fun. Professional works and Hollywood love their RPF—readers and writers of fanfics should be able to, as well.

As you said Anon, “clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life” (this is a lovely sentence, by the way). The kind of person who dehumanises another and reduces them to a sexual object will do so some other way, if not via fanfiction. I don’t think the issue of fetishisation can be fixed simply by telling people not to write explicit RPF. In my experience, people who read and write RPF are more respectful and thoughtful about these things than the general public. We’ve all seen the general public say highly sexual things about celebrities in the media and to their faces, or tag celebrities in their thirst tweets. Are these things less invasive than fanfiction? Personally, I don’t think so. And in my opinion, there are more pressing and damaging issues in stan culture than fanfic.

In conclusion, I don’t think there is anything wrong with creating and consuming RPF, both explicit and non-explicit so long as we:

Remember we are writing fiction

Keep RPF within its appropriate space, and

Do not harass celebrities about their personal lives and relationships

RPF is not for everyone. There may be people who enjoy RPF, but draw the line at explicit stories. This is fine. Everyone has their own personal preferences. What is not fine, however, is attacking people for creating things you don’t like. I’m not sure what kind of moral crusade people are on and what they hope to achieve by shaming writers of RPF, explicit or otherwise. Ultimately, fic authors are writing a fantasy. It’s not real; no one is being hurt. I think it’s important for people to curate their own content, and AO3 makes it very easy to filter out explicit works and unwanted tags.

Maybe this is me trying to justify my own participation in explicit RPF—I don’t know. What I do know is that I love k-pop, and fandom is an important part of my media and entertainment experience. I adore the k-pop idols I write about, and I just want to imagine them being happy and getting lots of love and orgasms. Let a bitch be horny, goddamn…

Some bonus fun facts!

At the time I am writing this, on AO3:

26.2% of Stray Kids fanfics are rated M or E

26.3% of Seventeen fanfics are rated M or E

29.0% of Merlin fanfics are rated M or E

34.9% of Captain America (Movies) fanfics are rated M or E

40.1% of BTS fanfics are rated M or E ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Coincidentally, I saw this post on Reddit this morning: Can we have a RPF positivity post?

#asks #my writing #fic & fandom #I keep coming back to fiddle and add things to this answer #but I think I've said all I wanted to now...

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love-fireflysong · 4 years

Text

Until Dawn’s Fifth Birthday

Welp, congrats Until Dawn, you’re officially old enough to start kindergarten. You’re off to learn to read, tie your shoes, recite yous ABC’s, and learn to count to 100. Your such a big kid now, and I’m proud of you for making it this far.

I know I have done literal jack shit for the entire month, but I have been immensely enjoying the things that everyone’s been putting out for this month. So I’m gonna make this text post, not just because of it’s the five year anniversary, but because it’s actually a post I’ve been wanting to make for a while.

So here it goes:

I first learned of Until Dawn when it first came out hilariously enough. My roommate at the time had boughten it for her ps4 and I had been seeing it all over my dashboard on tumblr at the time. I didn’t play it myself though until close to a year later, when I finally had my own ps4 and I bought the game used for like $20 or something from my local game rental store. And I was hooked.

I remember jumping the first time the UD logo pulls that jump scare on the title screen. And laughing because I’m normally pretty good with jump scares, but that one managed to get me because I hadn’t been expecting one before I even started the game. (The one thing in the game that manages to make me jump every time is the mine cart you stop as Mike. For whatever reason it doesn’t matter how dark my room is when I play the game or how many times I’ve played it, I can never see the mine cart until its literally on top of Mike and the QTE is almost up and I squeak in surprise every fucking time.)

Of course I didn’t manage to save everyone during my first playthrough, I definitely lost Matt to the hook and Ash to the trapdoor (RIP darlings), and for the life of me I can’t recall how the lodge scene at the end went. I’m one of those players though that try to make choices that the characters I’m playing as would, I throw my feelings by the wayside. For example, being in the shed when the game’s making me choose Ash or Josh, and I was debating on whether or not Chris would save the girl he’s had a major crush on for a while at least, or his best friend for the last ten years. I distinctly remember wincing and sucking in air through my teeth and going “Sorry Ash, bros before hoes” and choosing Josh. And then being confused and convinced that I misunderstood the instructions? I mean I wasn’t complaining, just really, really confused. I definitely choose Ash to live at the gun one though, like there was no hesitation. I watched the whole ‘only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my time’ scene and talk and the moment control was given back to me, the gun was under Chris’s jaw and I fired.

I’m also one of the players that didn’t know that Josh had been behind everything until the reveal either. I had gotten Sam captured so I never got any of those clues and I managed to miss the other clues that hinted at it being a set up (like the bundle of newspapers). So until the reveal I was still convinced that someone was out there killing all of them. Listen, I like mystery games but I’m not very good at connecting the dots okay.

I think I stuck around for a couple of months, gorging myself of fanfiction (all ff.net stuff by the way, I can’t remember if I knew about ao3 at that point or not) but like all interests do with me, the obsession eventually faded (helped in a large part by the rampant Ashley hate going around at the time) and I moved on.

Until February of this year. I was trying to kill time till the end of March when Persona 5: Royal released and I decided to try and see how many games I could platinum until that point. I had made it through the ps3 tomb raider games, Prince of Persia 2008, and decided on replaying the Uncharted games because the ps4 collection didn’t have multiplayer trophies. I hadn’t even thought of replaying Until Dawn. I mean, I had looked at the case and I remembered the game fondly, but that was it. There was no urge or want.

I was halfway through Among Thieves when I was bored and chilling time on Youtube. And because I had been watching a couple of videos for the treasure locations in Uncharted, one of the recommended videos for me was a game sins for the series. I decided sure why not, and watched it. And watched a few of his other ones as well, Until Dawn included.

That’s right, what got me back into the series wasn’t fond nostalgia for the characters or story. It was a fucking Game Sins video. I’m so sorry.

I was devouring UD content again. I spent like 2 or 3 weeks reading everything Chrashley (with the hyper-fixation for the game back came the ship, what can I say) based on ao3 that I could get my hands on. I was back into the tag on tumblr, going through art I remembered seeing way back when and looking at usernames that didn’t mean a thing then, but mean the world to me now. And then near the end of February, when the obsession was once again starting to flag, I decided to hell with it, and clicked on the The (Almost)s.

I’m not going to expunge all my praises for the story, everyone else has done that better then I ever could. But guys, it was so good. So so good. I was hooked back into the series once again, just as I was starting to flag. And when I saw that @queenofbaws had mentioned that she was tumblr... I didn’t do anything right away. Too scared really, figured she might find it creepy, so I didn’t do anything for like a week. And then I decided fuck it, sent a message about Chris giving Ash his sweater, and following her.

And that was it. I figured I would stick around to see the story completed and just dip. Not even make a splash, just enjoy the content from the sidelines and no one would know that I was here in the first place. Same old, same old. But that was also when I started turning around the kernel in my mind that Baby It’s Cold Outside (so hold me tight in your arms and don’t let go). I didn’t even intend to write it, it was just going to be the fanfic that lived in my mind for me to stew on before bed every night. But I couldn’t sleep one night, my brain was too on and the words just weren’t stopping, so I pulled out my computer and wrote the first part from Chris standing in the snow outside to him reaching the lodge at like 3 in the morning.

I started becoming more involved in the fandom when queenie started her wip wednesdays and asked to be tagged. Hilariously enough, those days are what started me cross-stitching again too, I hadn’t touched the pattern in months at that point. So I started posting snippets of my writing, and that one day a week was the only thing pushing me to continue writing. By that point, I had stopped hanging around the edges, now trying to push myself closer into this little fandom circle.

The day I posted the story, I was fucking terrified. It wasn’t my first story, not by a long shot, but I had always considered my writing to be shit. I thought I had good ideas, but I never felt that I was able to truly bring them to life. English and grammar had never been my best subject, I was always more of a math and physics person growing up. But then that first comment from @elliepollie came in and I almost burst into tears. I couldn’t believe that someone out there liked it so much, that they were willing to leave me a review in the first place. I’m still so blown away that she was willing to recommend it as a Chrashley story for other people to read. I think that was the point I stopped hesitantly pushing my way through, and I just kicked down the doors and just yelled ‘Hey fuckers! I’m here now and you are going to fucking deal with it!’.

That was the event that opened the floodgates for me. Suddenly I was talking to people, I had friends online with the same interests as me. I’ve written more in the last six months then I’ve done in the last ten years! I’m feeling inspired to create again. I actually went out to do the first commission I’ve ever requested (speaking of which, please please please go commisson @fudgeroach. I cannot wait until he can post and show you guys the stuff he drew for me. It was worth every fucking penny let me tell you.)

I’m going to be honest, Until Dawn isn’t my favourite game. Sure it has some of my fav lines (it had been years since I played the game, and the moment Jess started her rant outside the guest cabin I was screaming it along with her) and great characters, as horrible people as they all are, but it’s never been my favourite game and likely never will be. But Until Dawn has the best fandom I’ve ever been in and I’m so, so happy to have met and known every single person here. I seriously love every single person here so, so much. You all make my life better and I’m so happy to have all of you in it. Just to quote Chris because I can: “Every second I spend with you is all I ever wanted to do with my time.” This is how I feel. This is how I feel every goddamn day now.

So yeah, I got back into this fandom from a stupid Game Sins video. But by god if it wasn’t the best choice I’ve ever made.

(PS: for those wondering, I never did finish Uncharted 2. Maybe one day...)

#until dawn #udanniversary #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

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cockbiteproductions · 4 years

Note

multiples of 8, except in the misc section. all even numbers for the misc section

200: My crush’s name is: well well well this question again. you’re not getting anything out of me!!! they fucking use this website!!!

192: I am allergic to: nothing. but i found out like yesterday not everyone gets dermatographia and im kinda annoyed. what do you mean your skin doesnt get red and puffy the moment you touch it......

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox solely because of ah

176: Last YouTube video watched: my watch history says this, which is a scene from a show called billions. this scene in particular is about my favorite character asking about their introduction scene with their former mentor figure that they quickly outranked and asking why they were picked for the internship that lead them down this [entire shitpath].

168: Luck: [long sigh]. [puts on clown makeup].

[obi wan voice] im my experience there’s no such thing as luck.

[rian voice] luck? there’s probability plausibility and actuality. luck is superstition. luck is lazy math. [winston voice] that’s what i always say.

160: Soul mates: again souls arent real..... nor do i believe that people are “meant for each other” on any sort of cosmic/larger level. you are more compatible with people based on your upbringing and your interests and your values and those are adaptable over time though some people are so different that they will never get along and other people match/complement each other incredibly well.

152: Phone or Online: lmaoooo this questionnaire once again showing its age. throwback to when these things weren’t synonymous. online for sure. what am i gonna do with a phone? talk to someone with my fucking voice? i think not.

144: Oranges or Apples: to eat by themselves? probably apples since they are easier and less of a mess. and apples are more consistently better than oranges. oranges, it’s easy to get a batch that just sucks. juiced? probably orange. i love me some fuckin orange juice. but i like apple cider more than orange juice.

136: Hillary or Obama: lmaoooo again.. the age of this. 2008 or 2012. going to guess 2008. obama but not like. enthusiastically. while he was certainly better than [what we got going on now] he still bombed the hell outta some countries......

128: Manicure or Pedicure: ive never had either but i would probably be more comfortable with a manicure. people touching my feet would make me ticklish.

120: Gay Marriage: the only type that should be allowed. sorry straights youre no longer allowed to get married. /s obviously.

112: Facebook: oh BOY are you fucking ready. are you???? im starting the readmore NOW because this is going to be something. i doubt anyone except robots maybe will actually read my deranged pro-privacy anti-facebook/social media/surveillance rant but im angry every time i think about it and if i were a more important person than a rando on the internet with a keyboard im sure facebook would hire someone to kill me one day.

FUCK FACEBOOK. FUCK THAT SHITTY ASS WEBSITE THAT AT EVERY TURN HAS BEEN REVEALED TO HAVE HORRIFYING PRACTICES OF DATA COLLECTION.

but before that, they need to pay some goddamn fucking taxes. they are profiting off the data of billions of people and getting away with paying SO LITTLE back.

you ever hear about deepface? no this is not the beginning of a prequel meme. deepface is facebook’s facial recognition technology and facial recognition is fucking terrifying. that shit is as good as humans at facial recognition at this point. does that not scare you? that a bunch of computers can figure out if this photo contains you or not? it’s one thing if humans recognize each other, but another thing when computers who can process data almost infinitely faster than humans can are able to do it. the scale and speed at which these fucking nightmares operates is hard for us to imagine and so we are all not scared enough of what they can do. this kind of technology is so deeply privacy violating it’s hard for me to stress it enough. every image of you ever uploaded on the internet could possibly be put through facial recognition tech. and with the fact that there are cameras literally everywhere at all times now at this point it’s so fucking possible that if desired, someone could find out where you are at all times. and that gets SO scary when used by governments. are you comfortable with your government knowing where YOU are at all times? yes? what about if tomorrow your government is overthrown by a group of radicals you completely disagree with? you still comfortable with that? facial recognition is kind of a fucking pandoras box that we are opening and now that we have the technology available to us, unless we actively take steps back from it, it WILL eventually/already is being used in malicious, intensely privacy invasive ways.

and everything in that above bullet point goes for ALL DATA COLLECTED ON YOU, EVER. everything you’ve ever said on facebook is probably put through some multi layered neural network fucking robot who is learning how to understand what humans say on your input and also cataloging things about you as a person. it is doing SO MUCH more than reading the exact text of what you are saying and then picking up on keywords. neural networks are an attempt to copy how humans think by making an artificial version of a brain basically. in simple terms it’s a map of points and connections and you feed it data for a while and tell it what the desired outcome should be. it will adjust those connections and the weight of those points based on your data and expected outcome. that change in connections and weights is how it learns. then after a while it has fed on enough data that it will begin to expect what your desired outcome is. now imagine millions and millions of connections and points. it’s fucking huge. you ever hear about how we don’t know how machine learning/deep learning/neural networks works? this is that. it’s because they are so large and they have changed their weights and points so much that we no longer understand how it makes its decisions. ml is on a deeper level starting to understand what you mean when you say words. like a human. and can pick up nuances humans cannot because of its perfect memory. do you understand how scary this is? do you? i really do not know how to express this better how absolutely buckshit wild and terrifying the idea that everything i say online can be scraped and put through a robot and a profile on me and who i am and my ideals can be gathered almost instantly. how hard would it be to write a scraper that goes to my blog and grabs the text of every post in my talk tag? and then there’s free and open source nlp software (or you can pay for it) and you can feed in everything ive said on this blog ever. you can go to my facebook. you can go to my twitter. you can find my profiles on every online platform ive ever used and take everything ive ever said and determine what kind of person i am based on that. and then you can then make further distinctions based on that data. (sidenote: facebook wouldnt have to scrape the data on my profile, it’s all in their databases already. they have everything ive ever posted on public or private, on my old profile i’ve deactivated, every photo ive posted or been tagged in, everything ive ever uploaded to their servers or have been associated with.) and someone or robot can make decisions about me based on that data. it could just be am i likely to buy [this product] or it could be something much more like am i a threat? am i dangerous to you, the person using this data about me? what are my politics? what are my views on [this topic]? are they too extreme? should i be denied [real life thing] based on what this machine has determined about me from my data online? not to sound fucking crazy, but you ever watch that episode of black mirror? nosedive? and its system where you can rate interactions with people? how this one girl was trying to increase her ranking so she would qualify for a cheaper price on housing? how we’re already starting to see things like this in real life with china’s social credit system?

call me a fucking wack job but i think it’s so deeply creepy that we have digitized so many aspects of our lives and leave machines we no longer understand how they make their decisions to analyze every bit of data about ourselves.

by the fucking way facebook tracks data on people WHO DO NOT USE FACEBOOK. FACEBOOK TRACKS DATA ON PEOPLE. WHO. DO. NOT. USE. FACEBOOK. are you scared? i am.

i’ve been thinking about this tweet from @/malwaretech on twitter from a few days ago. text: On a serious note, social media tracking is more extensive than you may think. For example: those Facebook 'like' buttons you see on every website? They call home. If you're logged into your FB account, it records that you visited that web page, even if you don't click 'like'. doesn’t that sound a lil fucked up to anyone else? that facebook knows that i visited that webpage even though i did not tell it? that it will use that data to build a better profile on what my interests are and that it will use that data to better sell ads to me? i’ll be honest i am unsure of if facebook sells that information to other vendors. i think that might be not allowed but i wouldn’t be surprised if that data somehow got into the hands of people who arent facebook.

the fact that for the longest time you could NOT get your data deleted from facebook? that even if you deactivated your account facebook would still keep all of that in their shit ass servers forever? as far as i know, that’s changed now, but i would not at all be surprised if the next day it was revealed that facebook was Actually Keeping all that info anyways

the fact that by default facebook’s privacy settings are set to allow anyone to see most info about you? just this whole opt out culture is so fucking wack. it should be opt in. your privacy settings should default on the MOST PRIVATE and it should be up to you to ACTIVELY SEARCH OUT how to change them to public. it is ON FACEBOOK to actively cultivate privacy but of fucking course they don’t.

lmao cambridge analytica politics russia brexit trump. i don’t have the energy to even open this fucking can of worms but i will say that again, another layer of deeply fucked up that political campaigns can use that data to try to coerce or influence elections.

do you remember when in 2019. yes twenty. fucking. nineteen. 2019. two thousand and nineteen. 2019. i dont know how more to stress how recent but late this is. 2019. facebook admitted that it and instagram were still. STILL. STILL. S T I L L. storing passwords as plaintext? meaning your password that is “password123ilovedogs” is stored AS “password123ilovedogs” in their database. it is STANDARD AND EXPECTED PRACTICE that websites store SECURE hashes of passwords (not like fucking. md5 or something) meaning you do a bunch of fucking “irreversible” math on the password and store that instead of the actual password itself. so the db would be storing “298!79v@w8W#R;3,f9jf” instead of your actual password. anyways face. fucking. book. was storing passwords as plain text. which means if they ever have a data breach on their passwords db then all that data inside will just be your actual goddamn password. your actual goddamn password. what the fuck? what the fuck? and we still use this website? we? me? i use this website daily? i use this website on a daily fucking basis and allow it to continue to collect information on me? im so goddamn angry.

the fact that now in this day and age you are considered weird for not having any social media? super fucked up. the fact that employers will check your social media and if you don’t have one that is somehow a red flag? weird as hell. why must we participate in the world’s largest data collection scandal ever just to be a member of society? i cannot choose to opt out. facebook collects data on me even if i do not have an account. society expects me to have some form of social media and if i do not then that i am the weird one for it. if you choose to live a life of trying not to be tracked it is almost impossible. can you live your life in modern society without an email address? without a smartphone or laptop? there is an expectation that every person is available to communicate with digitally and if you find the practice of data collection abhorrent and don’t want to use websites that do so, then you’re the weird one who has a LOT of society’s services unavailable to you.

im not going to even touch on the psychological effects that facebook and social media have on people other than to ONCE AGAIN, say they are very real and deeply fucked up.

by the way check out haveibeenpwned. enter your email and it’ll check against databases to see if your email has been on recent dumps. i have been. lately there have been a few older accounts of mine that have been breached and it’s terrifying.

fuck jesse eisenberg man he fucked over spiderman crazy

fuck faang. fuck big tech. fuck data collection. btw edward snowden is a hero. fuck all of this.

104: The future: man we’re in for it. i am not optimistic about it at all. too much tech progression / not enough foresight / expansion/globalization of the world / global warming / political and economic issues are all coming to a head to make the world a fucking disaster.

96: Changed a diaper: never done it! i am not around children often.

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: having a vague idea of where things are locally. im very bad with directions.

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: answered already.

84: People call me: yeesa, apparently. i have a fair amount of nicknames but i just call myself teresa.

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: sure haven’t though i deserve one

80: The first person i talked to today was: soph because she wakes up at a normal goddamn time so i’ll sometimes have a text from her from a few hrs ago

76: Right now I am talking to: milo and a discord server im in for a group of friends i made when i was applying to college. though i havent responded in quite a while since i went on my angry facebook rant.

74: I have/will get a job: well i HAD a job for the beginning of the summer when i was a TA but i do not any more as that was first summer semester only. hopefully in the fall i’ll have a job as a TA again but who knows. and then after that when i graduate i hope hope hope hope hope i will have a job lined up.

72: Today: woke up. made a plum smoothie. played minecraft. took a nap. here i am. it’s all very riveting.

70: Next Weekend: it’ll happen for sure. odds are i will be waking up and eating food and coming on the internet and chatting with friends and doing a bit of writing and trying to learn a bit more html.

68: The worst sound in the world: answered already.

66: People that make you happy: will roland lmao.

64: My friends are: well it’s basically the same people i tagged in my last post on people who make me happy.

62: My School: you tryin to doxx me? it’s alright. not the best for my major. and also stupidly trying to reopen for the fall because theyre greedy and idiots. it was like my 5th choice school but it is what it is.....

60: I lose all respect for people who: already answered

58: Your hair color is: black as fuck. im east asian.

56: Favorite web site: controversial but archive of our own dot org i guess. i believe in their mission and like how they have advocated for fans and have created a fan-owned space on the internet. they’re not perfect but i overall support them.

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: answered already

52: My room is: a time capsule of what i liked in late middle school/early high school.

50: Where would you like to be: im fine where i am. maybe visiting friends though. i would like to Hang With Them and Do Fun Activities.

48: Ever been in love: who’s to say....... what is love? (baby don’t hurt me). but for real the concept of love is weird to me, especially romantic love. i don’t know. i’ve certainly obsessed over people. i’ve noticed i kind of “pick people” to have crushes on. i can’t really say why. but then it creates a feedback loop of i pay more attention to them -> i think more about them -> i like them more. so i’ve made conscious decisions that have lead to me obsessing over people.

46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl but that’s just because people in fandom spaces tend to be women and most of my friends ive made through fandom.

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: kaity is coming to my town but we cant see each other because of a pandemic so im kinda fucking miffed about that. i didn’t get to see maria before she left my state so i’m also miffed about that.

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: lmaooooo no. i would just like to be satisfied with my life. would like to see friends. do fun things with them.

40: Last person I got mad at: idk im not generally a mad person. mark zuckerberg probably.

38: I wish I was a professional: as in i suddenly have all the skills and talent needed to be a professional? i think a director &|| writer tbh. i would love to have the Creative Vision necessary to come up with dope ideas AND translate what i have in mind into real life. i would love the ability to be able to tell compelling stories that mean a lot to people.

32: Athlete: lmao if it was 2008 or 2012 i would ahve said ryan lochte but nevermind. idk. maybe katie ledecky.

24: Movie: am not much one for movies...... star trek 2009.

16: Book: i don’t know how to read.

8: Yankee candle scent: idk about yankee candle specifically but i love the smell of apple.

#not rt #teresa answers stuff #Anonymous

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thestudyfeels · 5 years

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🎨 Graphic made by @indiaisstudying: India is brilliant my pals, and I recommend checking her out for studyblr/artblr inspiration. My girl tHIRIVES.

The singular takeaway from this post: Do a creative binge. Much productive than a Netflix binge. Period.

Two months ago, I reached my peak when I coined the term ‘bood day’ (a bad to good day, in my article How To Flip A Bad Day By 180°). Today, puppies and kittens, I present to you— a creative binge.

*crickets chirping, that one dude in the audience scratches his nose and turns away*

…This one actually works but okay, we get it, y'all are bitches. But gonna do my job anyway– if you're a creator reading this, please do a creative binge at least once every two weeks.

I started doing these binges two months ago, and I've seen a VAST improvement in my creative energy. I feel my commercial voice coughing and saying hello to the mic, so before I start listing side-effects for a sponsored pill, let's dive into the basics.

🍵 Quick PSA —

↪ JOIN MY TAGLIST? If you aren't on this yet, please get on it, it'll mean a lot to me! By joining, you get a new article on lifestyle design & productivity every week.

100 Days of Sweat: This challenge starts TOMORROW (10th of April), so if you wanna hustle on your bod this year, join us! Accountability does crazy things.

Ever questioned your life, experienced writer's block, painter’s pain or blogger’s… block? (Narrator: aaaand she's back to advertising.) A creative binge helps deal with fixing exactly that.

“A creative binge is based off the equation of quality in = quality out.”

A lot of creators feel that they're supposed to magically create out of their head, and that's just ridiculous. It's ludicrous considering you don't know shit, read shit, do shit and watch shit.

Even to write fiction, my pal, you'll have to expose yourself to the world to know its ways, read great books and take tips (not to mention stock up on coffee, and prepare to cry a lot) before you start cranking out the pages. Everything you create is ultimately inspired by the Ways Of The World. (And that's a fantastic novel title)

So in short, you’ve got to consume content, to make content. And in a creative binge, you conscious choose content that'll help you create. Genius, I know!

Okay, but what if I'm not a creator?

Brilliant question! Wanna become more valuable and leave the people you interact with better? Take a creative binge.

Allow me an elaboration: Take a janitor and a neurosurgeon. The said janitor is paid much less than the neurosurgeon. Why is that? Is the neurosurgeon a better person? That's debatable. Is the janitor less efficient at his work? Again, debatable. The primal reason lies in the neurosurgeon acquiring more valuable skills than the janitor. Society rewards them by paying more since there are less folks who can do what the neurosurgeon does.

To recap: In order to be indispensable in the role you play (whatever it is, a student, calligrapher, CEO of the Janitor Club), you HAVE to become valuable. Grow your curiosity & know more than yo’ buddies (also bring more value than anybody else). And to become valuable, you consume value. Tada!

(And if you still ain't convinced, I'll pull out the Netflix card. You'd really rather watch shows? Or binge YouTube? Than learn a new skill, or develop existing ones? Question your priorities, my friend. Victims love entertainment, victors love learning.)

Cool, you're joining in then! Not that creative binge is NOT an entertainment binge. It's a value providing binge. What you ‘consume’ has to bring you something in return— whether that's creative inspiration, motivation or skills. *Swing arms* yup! We’re one gay, productive household. Someone remind Hallie to buy the groceries though, the Cheerios are going mouldy.

By my dictionary, a creative binge is a slot of time, 1½ to 3 hours I'd say, when you watch/read/listen to some good stuff. Basically, binge content.

THE 101 OF A CREATIVE BINGE

🌿 Basics:

I conduct one every week (usually Wednesday mornings), lasting around 1½ to 2 hours.

I'll also keep a notepad and a pen nearby, to take notes and jot ideas as they come. Again, this is NOT an entertainment binge, even though it's a chill job.

Sometimes I'll get passive things done (like wiping my desk, eating breakfast and taking out textbooks) while watching. We maximize our time.

🌿 What Do I Watch:

The stuff I watch falls into 3 categories: creative/humor (for inspiration), business/skills (for skills) & motivation (for, um, motivation). Fair warning though, a lot of the stuff these folks make overlap, but that's alright. This is just a rough demarcation.

Creative/Humor: some YesTheory, maybe some MacDoesIt, sprinkle in some Ryan Higa, perhaps an episode of a show with an amazing script, some stand-up comedy from my favorites. Or maybe trash that and just watch Sherlock. (Geez, Netflix, I hate you, I love you.)

Skills: Gary Vee, some artist channels, that random video on how to thrift shop even though I don't shop.

Motivation: Be Inspired, Tom Bilyeu, Mel Robbins and random videos which look nice.

🌿 What Do I Listen To:

Oof, I love music tremendously! If you're a pal, you know it's time to RUN when I come around being like, “soo, I was wondering what's your favourite–”.

Yet, during a creative binge, I'll only listen to stuff that 1) inspires me, or 2) is creative in a way I can't explain. Some recommendations!

Hype music:

The Score

Imagine Dragons

Creative music:

Billie Eilish

Lana Del Rey

Sleeping At Last

Lorde

Conan Gray

Harry Styles

🌿 What Do I Read:

Usually the book that I'm reading at that point if I'm being lazy.

POETRY: It's my belief, but poetry is a writer's most powerful device. There's a novel to be said in a simple sonnet.

FICTION: I dig great fiction. PS, please read (and sob over) Away Childish Things, by @letteredlettered. It changed me as a person, changed my entire perspective about kids. I'm much kinder and softer now, and my pimples are gone. I'll literally never get over drarry too, so thanks lettered, love you.

ARTICLES: Bookmarked psychology, productivity & fitness articles on Medium. Maybe check out James Clear's & Gary Vee’s blog for new posts.

Because I wanna drive this home, here's what I did in my last creative binge as a concrete example —

Care to Note that:

All of the stuff I consume is pre-planned.

I add videos throughout the week to my Creative Binge playlist on YouTube, download albums from Amazon Music and articles for offline reading.

DON'T leave this to the last moment, you'll more likely pick entertainment vs learning then.

Watched–

Why I'm done trying to be "man enough"

Redecorating my room 2017 (I wanna decorate my room this year so)

How to Squat Properly (I’m trying lmao)

Giving a 9-Year-Old Her Dream Job for 24hrs!! (I stan YesTheory so much)

How To NOT Be A Starving Artist (A mood. I love Sorelle)

Couple more, I could go on & on, but you get me.

Listened–

Every song on YouTube by Bruno Major

Born to die: paradise version (album) by Lana Del Rey

Read–

Articles from James Clear's blog — (x) (x)

Articles from Gary Vee’s blog — (x) (x)

HIIT workouts for beginners

All of this birthed–

Ideas for future articles, titled: How To Be Great & Solomon Letters #2: Question Your Faith, Not Your Dreams, among others.

A small poem about faith– posted on my IG, check it out!

New content ideas, like value chains (upcoming!)

Bunch of other small rants for everyday posting

Some business and life advice that might be useful later.

Gotta say goodbye now! (literally too... but post about it coming on 12th so wait for it) Try this one out, and let me know how your binge goes (tag it with #team conquer). Mine usually end with a bucketful of philo notes, a recharged left (right? psychology? idk) brain, and a fresh perspective towards the rest of my week.

This is the #1 strategy I've adopted to sustain creative energy when it's sapped all around by negativity and school & I promise it helps. No side effects, no sponsored pills needed. Thanks for reading!

Related: How To Get Back Into The Creative Process (if you're in a blogger's block or experiencing painter's pain)

Have something to say? I treasure all feedback! If this post inspired you to do something, or you wanna throw some love/constructive criticism at me— hop into my ask box, or reply to this post itself!

Thanks for dropping by! Major articles, like this one, come out every Thursday! Join my taglist by to read them when they do. I also post daily wins, journal entries, rants & photos of my plant babies throughout the week, so follow me if you’re into conquering life. I vow to be the loudest cheerleader. ✧

Sending you love and good energy, talk soon.

Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

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writehardwhumpharder · 5 years

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OC Drabble - Nick faints from low blood sugar

Quick rant: Ugh, I live right in the middle of town, totally urban area, and yet my wifi thinks I'm in the fucking mountains or something. I'd probably post more fics if it didn't take me at least 2 or 3 tries just to get tumblr to actually post anything. And each time I have to rewrite the tags and title and stuff.

They were all in the same boat here -- well, airship -- but Nick felt like he was struggling more than everyone else seemed to be. They crash landed in the desert four days ago, and only packed enough emergency food for two. So now the whole team, Nick, Leah, and Dylan, moped around the beat up ship waiting for someone to come save them. Leah was still hard at work trying to fix the main control board, how she had the energy to do it he had no idea. There was plenty of water on the ship so they weren't in any real danger, but somehow that thought didn't fill the empty void in his stomach.

"Nick, come over here and hold the wrench for me." Leah called from behind a heap of metal. Nick's entire body protested the idea but he dragged himself to his feet and shuffled over to her. The least he could do was sit there and hold some tools.

"I'm starving." Dylan groaned as he walked onto the bridge. "I've searched this place top to bottom and there's nothing, nothing!" He said, being his usual melodramatic self. Leah sighed.

"I told you two days ago that we had depleted the ship's food reserves. I checked the entire cargo log and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He muttered, flopping down into a cushioned seat and closing his eyes. Nick was a little jealous. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. He didn't feel like he could do much more than that anyway. Leaning against the ship's control panel, holding various tools while Leah messed around inside, Nick tried to get his sluggish brain to think of anything other than food. Or their lack of it.

His stomach cramped suddenly and he groaned in pain. Nick was pretty sure his intestines were eating themselves at this point and that's why they hurt so god damn much. Stifling a moan, Nick wrapped his free arm tight around his middle and waited for it to pass.

"If you're hungry, go drink some water." Leah said. Anger welled up inside Nick at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement. Even the hot broth Dylan made last night did little to ease any of their hunger. Nick got up and pretended to go grab some anyway. He really planned on just going to his quarters and not coming back. As much as he knew he should be helping, he didn't want his team members to see him like this. The narrow hallway swirled around dizzily like it sometimes did when he had too much to drink and he found himself banging his right shoulder on the hall as he staggered every couple steps. Maybe the hallway was slanted from the crash, he wondered, yeah that must be it.

"I swear to god, if someone doesn't come rescue us soon..." Nick said to himself as he more or less fell down on top of his bed.

"You'll what?" Dylan asked from the doorway.

"You followed me? Seriously? Go away, I'm sleeping." Nick made a show of turning his back to Dylan as he pulled a thin blanket over himself.

"Well, actually. I was kinda worried about you... You look... bad." He said quietly, knowing how Nick wouldn't like acknowledging the poor state he was in. Though he was too tired to get geniunely annoyed.

"Oh yeah? Look in the mirror." His voice was muffled slightly by his pillow. Dylan stayed where he stood in the doorway, watching him.

"I'm serious. You look like you're about to pass out or something. We all feel pretty bad right now, but you..." He trailed off. Dylan had the terrible suspicion that Nick wouldn't tell them if something was really wrong with him because everyone was hungry and he didn't want to complain.

"Hence why I'm laying down, asshole," Nick's breath caught in his throat as another sharp pain shot through his stomach, "Leave me alone." Nick growled, his voice strained. Dylan didn't take it personally, Nick always got grumpy when he was hungry, and right now they were a couple days past that. Once Dylan's footsteps retreated into the hallway Nick sighed then wrapped an arm tight around his stomach as his intestines twisted into knots. Why did he have to skip breakfast before this mission?

A few hours passed before Nick gave up on sleeping entirely. The hunger just wouldn't let him. He pushed himself to his feet shakily and not a second later the emergency alarm started blaring. This loudness alone was enough to inspire an instant headache. Nick buttoned up his shirt in an effort to not look like total crap and staggered toward the bridge. Despite how weak he felt, he managed a light jog, using the wall for support. The alarm only seemed to get louder as he approached the bridge, the sound echoeing around the oddly shaped room. By the time Nick reached the control panel where Leah was working the alarm abruptly shut off and a sharp ringing pierced his ears in its absence. Dylan got there at about the same time he did and the two made confused eye contact.

"What's going on?" He asked, out of breath. The short jog left Nick incredibly winded.

"Sorry. The alarm was triggered automatically after I got the power back on. The ship is just now reading the damage from the crash." Leah said from behind the control panel. She'd been working on it almost nonstop for the last four days and sagged visibly from exhaustion once it was finally done. Nick stepped past her, checking their communication equipment. If the base didn't get their distress signal he would need to tell them their location. The radio crackled to life but they were met with empty static. Nick started repeating a brief statement about their status over and over again until someone from their base responded.

Well, saying they responded would be generous. The warbled sound of a women's voice came through in choppy pieces, bits of whatever she was saying getting cut off every few seconds. Nick put his finger down on a button and a little red light turned on to let him know that they were transmitting. He repeated the statement a couple more times before giving up. They just had to hope that someone could track their location and come get them, preferably soon.

A wave of dizziness washed over Nick's body, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. He leaned forward on the control panel heavily, closing his eyes. He tried to take a deep breath, letting his head fall forward. When that didn't help he put his elbows down on the raised console to better steady himself.

"Guys, are you really, like, 100% sure that there's nothing left to eat?" Nick said, his voice sounding weak and far away. Dylan looked up at him, his eyes going wide at how pale he had gotten in the past few seconds.

"We split the rations evenly, stop complaining. There's no food and whining won't-"

"Shut up, Leah!" Dylan snapped in concern.

Nick's vision swam and blurred out of focus. He tried to blink it away but everything around him only got fuzzier.

"Ni- you, can- you, hear m-" the sound of Dylan's voice came to him from some long tunnel, the words fading in and out. His brain tried to pick apart the question but everything was out of order. Nick was dimly aware of his his arms going slack as he fell forwards, hitting his head on the control panel, hard. Leah winced at the sound his skull made on impact, quickly moving to grab him under the arms before he got the chance to then smack his head on the metal floor too. His eyes fluttered for a moment before rolling back completely and Leah struggled to gently lower him to the ground. Nick had gone completely limp in her arms and crumpled down to the floor in a graceless heap. Dylan was by his side in an instant.

"Nick, hey, wake up." Dylan slapped at his cheek, noting the trace of blood on his forehead. A quick glance at the controls confirmed a matching red spot where his head had hit. While Dylan hovered over Nick's face Leah grabbed one of his wrists and felt his pulse, ever the practical one.

"His pulse is a little too fast. And I'm worried about his head." Leah informed. Dylan gave her a "no shit" look and felt the spot at the top of Nick's forehead which was already beginning to swell.

Nick groaned suddenly, twitching his head. The movement must have hurt because his eyes closed even tighter as he grimaced. Dylan tried calling his name again, touching his face gently.

Nick's eyes opened slowly and stopped at about halfway. They were unfocused and lazily trailing around the ceiling above him.

"Can you hear me? Come on Nick look at me!" Dylan demanded. He wasn't too worried about the fact that he fainted from low blood sugar. It was the fainting AND the head-slamming.

"Nngghhh." Nick made some sort of noise which was neither a yes or a no. He tried to focus his eyes on Dylan which only made him feel dizzy and nauseous. "Aghh." He moaned in pain. His body which was completely boneless a second ago was suddenly tense as Nick curled in on himself in what was, unmistakably, the fetal position. He looked so vulnerable like that with his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. The hollowness in Nick's stomach bit at him again. Someone tried to nudge a glass of water in his direction but Nick didn't dare to move when he was in so much pain.

"It might help." Leah said, her voice as kind and soft as it ever got.

"I don't want any- f-fucking water." Nick said through clenched teeth.

"Hang in there buddy," Dylan said. He only called him 'buddy' when he was somehow sick or injured. Which, now that he thought about it, happened way too often. "I'm sure someone will come for us soon."

Nick suddenly became aware of the fact that he was lying on the floor with Leah and Dylan sitting on either side of him. He took one look at Dylan's tired and sunken eyes and was confronted by a wave of guilt. They were all suffering and here he was making a scene.

Dylan nearly jumped when Nick bolted upright without any warning. His body screamed at him as he forced himself to straighten.

"Woah, woah, woah. Lay back down you just passed out AND hit your head really hard on the way down."

"Is that why my head hurts so much?" Nick asked dryly continuing his slow battle to a standing position. Using the railing next to them he pushed himself to his feet, swaying dangerously.

"Seriously, you're gonna hurt yourself." Leah chimed in, rising to stand behind him as a precaution.

"I'm fine." Nick said, sounding not at all convincing. Nick clutched onto the railing for dear life as he swayed drunkenly. He tried to take a shuffling step away from his worried team but it was like a rug was ripped out from under his feet. Luckily Leah was ready to grab him again when he pitched forward.

Nick just felt so tired, so empty. And his head was starting to throb like a bitch. His breathing sped up as he tried to make some sense of the world spinning around him.

Strong hands replaced Leah's and Nick felt someone pick him up, one arm around his back and the other under his knees. Dylan was careful not to jostle him too much as he picked him up with ease, making it look as simple as picking up a small child who fell asleep in the car. Looking down he noticed that Nick nearly was asleep. He hit his head pretty hard but not hard enough for a concussion so Dylan let him doze off. The last thing Nick felt was something soft under his cheek as Dylan set him down on his bed.

#whump #OC drabble #drabble #Nick #Leah #Dylan #hunger #low blood sugar #fainting #collapse #minor head injury #pain #weak #dizzy #worried team #if tumblr craps out on me again im gonna scream

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