#excuse my temporary brainrot

[1000sunnygo]

Torao.

#excuse my temporary brainrot #trafalgar law #what a terrible timing for a break and even worse if oda offscreens the conclusion of law vs BB fight #man... #law had a good run but now he's out #actually I need someone to clarify this #how was law planning to reach laughtell? he has no means to read ponepgyphs #does he have wci road poneglyph rubbing? #well he's gonna lose it all now anyway. #BB is such an amazing character though #can't hate well written antagonists #one piece #trafalgar d. water law #my doodles #mine

[hwaightme]

The meaning of 'Jeong'

☔ pairing: yunho x f!reader ☔ genre: comfort, fluff, angst ☔ summary: jeong (정/情) - the intimate and warm feeling, the closeness and affection arising from one's relationship with another person. ☔ wordcount: 5.8k ☔ warnings/tags: stress, a lot of work stress, burnout, disregard for own health, language, a little arguing, yunho driving, yunho singing, business, office, implied office disrespect, no need for words when yunho knows, knight in a shining automobile, snow and rain, on the verge of a breakdown, starry night, unedited, lmk if anything else~ ☔ taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven ☔ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ☔ a/n: hello there, sometimes we are in need of some yunfort~ warmest hugs, and much love! All reblogs, comments, thoughts, notes appreciated~ Thank you so much Sky for ideating with me, inspiring me, and fueling first my San, and then my Yunho brainrots <3 would not have happened without you~

It seemed that no matter what you did, everything served to further agitate you - another penny in the bottle of emotions that was threatening to overflow if you as much as hinted at your utter exhaustion. With all your might you wanted to convince yourself that this was temporary, you were trying your best and that no matter what happened, it all would end up being for the better. But sometimes, too much was just what it was. Too much.

Your troubles had wounded themselves tightly into an impossible knot, weighing you down until you were in a hopeless crawl, barely sentient and resorting to existing on autopilot just so you could avoid tearing up in a public place. You were not about to give your colleagues the sadistic satisfaction. With hefty heaps of sarcasm and barely concealed impatience, you waded through meeting after meeting, discussing projects that had backlogs larger than your anger. Somehow, as the day progressed, what you had already deemed to be a ‘not so good day’ had managed to one, two, triple-up itself.

First, you were notified, twenty minutes before the official launch of a function update in an internal, company-wide application, that there was a severe bug found, and the release would have to be delayed until further notice. Nothing new for a product manager to hear, but considering that you had just spent two hours in a metaphorical grill with your own senior manager, as well as the director of the department, you were not about to ‘not take things to heart’. The pressure only built as you were pinging person after person, with your dual monitor glowing from all the messaging windows, fighting against the torrent of your subordinates’ uncontrollable procrastination, all an attempt to reconfigure task assignment to fit in the same sprint. You cursed the ‘agile’ framework time and time again as you upped the severity on at least seven story points for your team, and hesitantly, transferred a hefty number to yourself.

This was a never-ending cycle. One which you would never break no matter how hard you tried. Such was your job; at least that was the excuse you gave it, since the monetary compensation was good enough to be motivated to put up with was clearly draining. In calls from early morning until late in the evening. Constantly juggling everyone’s workload and having to keep your finger on the professional pulses of at least fifty people, globally. You were no stranger to having meetings at awkward hours of the day, either. As you watched your colleagues beginning to pack up and leave for home, chatting away about their families, or about some new restaurant that opened in the area, or about some sports game, you realised you were completely deflated. Looking at your calendar, there was only one meeting – with partners in the US, to go, but it felt like an impossibly daunting task. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on your eyes and tension in your neck made it impossible to sit comfortably. But you still did it. Still sat there, in your office chair, accompanied by the squadron of chronic overtime workers whose heads were dotted across the floor as far as your eye could see, and pretended like it was not nearing nine o’clock at night.

You had promised your boyfriend that you would stop drinking coffee at weird hours, him having been horrified at how you could handle the bitter beverage, while you would pretend you did not see him sneak sweetener into his mocha. But with both of you getting busier and busier, and with you additionally trying to drown out the noise that came with not seeing him as much as you would have wanted, you slipped into your routinely coffee machine visits. The rumble of the artificial barista as it brewed up your only source of energy was soothing – the one sound in the workplace that did not pose a threat to your mental health, nor to your growing headache. Every sip was a temporary lull in an otherwise chaotic corporate fiasco you had found yourself in. Oh, how you wished you could tap out; this was your only conclusion to the dull, monotonous interlocution where not once, but twice did one of your co-workers abroad show their complete ineptitude in all things technology related by failing to share screen and check chat.

As you bid farewell to the last of the officemates who you agreed to mutual acknowledgement with, you leaned back in your chair and sighed. With the pitch black night outside, the artificial fluorescence that illuminated your pallid, tired skin appeared to be stronger, drying your eyes. If you were to stay frozen for a while, they would turn off until the next sudden movement, and maybe you could catch up on a much needed nap, cutting your sleep debt by at least a few minutes. But at the same time, could you afford those few minutes? When you were left alone with your mind, the notion of productivity and achievement became skewed, and what you would previously deem to be okay, or good enough, easily moving on to the next task, now metamorphosed – daunting, demanding monsters that haunted you, highlighting their inexistent faults in a dark crimson, covering your vision. If there was free time, that was time that could be spent working, perfecting, editing. And if it was not spent in that way, it was time wasted. Simple as that. Inadvertently, you became a lethal collaborator of the very cycle you dreaded waking up for the last couple of weeks, and were now in the process of breaking it, twisting it into a downwards spiral. You were aware of this, and yet, you remained passive, dismissing all alarm bells as overdramatization. The increase in cooling coals in your ambitious fire did not phase you, for you decided you had more important things to focus on. Like staring at your emails, unable to conjure a single coherent thought.

The words were swimming in front of you, the caffeine no longer doing anything to serve you. All that was left was the chocolatey aftertaste – you had your coffee snob colleagues to thank for campaigning for having proper beans be ordered, so everyone could travel to faraway places at least through the notes the beverage had, the harvest, taste the sun that blazed down on the rolling hills proudly bearing the farmlands. Only the memory of the dark roast sticking to the roof of your mouth, an unpleasant dryness settling along with the realisation that there was no chance you would be making any more progress. You heaved another displeased sigh, and after rolling your shoulders a couple of times, pressed on the power button, seeing how your distorted reflection appeared before you as the screens went black.

It was easy to imagine ghosts waving you goodbye, as the click-clack of your heels resonated through the main reception on the ground floor of the skyscraper where you were one of the many ants. A lonely security guard stationed by the turnstiles nodded you his farewell, hearing the beep of your id card being accepted. You nodded back. He was one of the more approachable-looking guardians of the money-making machine, you had seen him shake a joke with his fellow suited-up brethren a total of two times and you were not about to discourage yourself with the accompanying thought that you had been working in the company for just over a year now. You have not had the share of your favourite megawatt grins that would have dispelled your grim disposition, so every bit of negativity had to be treated with caution. You were a ballistic missile being transported in a rickety mule-drawn cart with one wheel falling off. Bit by bit. Step by step. You just needed an uneventful commute home, so you could collapse into your bed and forget about today, until tomorrow would inevitably remind you, and so the loop would start again.

But there it was. The cherry on top of the disgusting cake. Of course, the weather had to fit the atrocious mood. Even though your calendar explicitly stated spring, and you had been more than excited to welcome the longer days and the blooming trees and bushes, the temperamental elements were bestowed upon you as what could only be an evil prank. A cocktail of clumped up snowflakes and icy cold rain beating down on the side walk, the light emanating from a nearby streetlight gaining the appearance of static due to the rapidly cutting streaks. You cursed under your breath, already saying goodbye to your felt trench coat and blaming yourself for being too optimistic and not metaphorically gluing an umbrella to your hand. It was difficult to hold the tears that began to well up and inevitably blur your vision, turning the puddles and buildings into an urban soup. You had always wanted to see yourself as strong, or at least strong enough to be able to sustain yourself and be proud of your perseverance. But as you stood there, a stride away from being soaked by the downpour, you were trying to accept that you were fated to be ‘that one passenger’ on the metro, wavelengths of stress and misery vibrating out of you. The passenger who would have everyone sitting as far as possible and obviously concerned. You looked down, watching a stray shiny wrapper float down to the curb on a stream of water, stopping once it reached the sewage drain and the holes ended up being too small. Your hands clenched into weak fists, and you trembled, the nervous lump in your throat becoming painfully noticeable and spurring on a growing flood of apprehension. Under the stormy night sky you were so small. A tiny dot that would not leave as much as a footprint, insignificant against the menacing, ceaselessly falling drops of water, like a barrage of nature’s heavy artillery. As you were about you turn up the collar of your coat in attempt to do something, anything to protect you against the rain that you were about to step into, a voice called out, in part muted by the battering of concrete, but you would still recognise it anywhere.

“Would be cool if you could answer your phone sometimes.” Your head turned sharply to the right, in the direction from which you heard the sweet, deeper set tone.

Face slightly obscured by the edge of the huge umbrella that was loyally protecting him, there, approaching you, ambled the man who you would not dare expect to spontaneously visit you. Sure, you had your share of fantasies about how it would be like to have your boyfriend pick you up from work, or to meet up for lunch together, but both you and Yunho had phenomenally chaotic work schedules, and even calls lasting for longer than five minutes had to be planned well in advance. And while you were over the moon when you could spend time with him, the recent scarcity had led into a mounting pressure for you, to maintain a lighthearted disposition, to not let your troubles interfere with him and his life outside of a busy, demanding career. While that could have been your pride talking since such an approach took courage, your comfort was not at the forefront of your mind when you chose to not tell the full story to Yunho, when you faked a smile and covered the bags under your eyes.

"You know I can't use my phone in the office." You huffed, stuffing your hands into your pockets and feeling for the device, which you preferred to keep on do not disturb unless you knew someone was meant to be contacting you.

"Well, you are not in the office anymore, Y/N. But it’s alright, I completely get you. It’s late enough for you to not even bother with it until tomorrow, honestly." Your boyfriend shrugged his shoulders, and as he joined you under the roofing that protected the entrance from the mid-March cries of winter, he lowered and folded the black umbrella, revealing himself entirely to the streetlamp, and dim light emanating from the glass that guarded the reception area. You took in his divinely sculpted form, his smiling eyes and lips, and, in shock, realised that it had been far too long since you had seen this wondrous man in person.

He was dressed as though he had just stepped out of the dance studio, which, knowing Yunho, he very much might have. A beige hoodie, black tracksuit bottoms and some dual-toned sneakers to tie everything together he looked dangerously cuddly, which only further agitated you. Why did he have to come here without warning? Why did your ray of sunshine have to show up when you were nothing but a seething, thunderous raincloud?

"Thanks, Yun. But how and why are you here, exactly?" you did not mean to sound irritated, but your spent nerves were getting the best of you and took control of your speech. Yunho quirked an eyebrow but dismissed his perplexity in favour of lightening the atmosphere and cheering you up.

"My spidey senses told me you might need a knight in a shining automobile. And judging by how you don't have an umbrella, I think I'm right."

It was much more than just the lack of an umbrella; at your happiest, you were the type of person who would sing in the rain. It was the awkward hours at which you responded to his texts, the evident struggle you went through to keep your eyes open whenever you two would video call after work, but most of all it was how you so obviously held information back from Yunho that prompted him to approach his manager and carve out the time he otherwise would not have. If there was anything he learned over the half a year, and counting, of your relationship, was that you were a fighter, much like him - an energiser to a fault. You would give, give and give some more until there was nothing left for you, and then would lead yourself into the illusion that you were just being lazy when you were actually falling apart. You were putting on a brave, calm and collected face, and your hesitation to drop the mask in front of him was unnerving. If there was anyone in your present life who should be your pillar of support, a person you could trust, depend on, lean on be it emotionally or physically, it should be him. In Yunho's eyes, work and some pre-determined timetable was always adjustable when a loved one was in trouble, and hell, you were of the same opinion: when it came to racing across the city in the middle of the night just because he hinted at the fact that he had sustained an injury, you would stop the universe. So why did you not consider the basic healthy principle as something that was not applicable to you?

"But aren't you busy?" your inquiry sounded rhetorical. As though you had already formulated an answer for yourself and were unwilling to accept any other. To be frank, yes, Yunho was busy. So were you. Such was life. However, this element of your lives did not define you, nor did it imply having to take a secondary position in another’s life. Yunho shook his head, stepping closer to you until your arms were almost brushing.

There was a melancholic air to you. Days passing in minor chords, accumulating into a tune, then a song, then a symphony. Your sonata filled with dreams falling flat, and sharp comments forcing you to adjust your dynamics and rhythm. Yunho had fallen in love with the beautiful music of your heart – a beacon of kindness, selflessness and positivity, you had always been the first to encourage him, sometimes messaging or calling him before his members even had a chance to turn in his direction to wish him luck. An innate, deeper sense of what was around you, Yunho noticed time and time again how you elegantly navigated social landscapes, reading people, places and striving to simply do what was best for the situation you faced. You were one to intuitively know something was going on before it could even have the chance to consciously register.

But that also made you prone to wearing yourself out. Sacrificing yourself for those who did not deserve it, and not leaving enough to perform even the most basic human functions. Your boyfriend was always in awe of you, and how you could possibly have so much love contained in your body. As he gazed at your form while you rocked back and forth on your feet – a habitual action that he had realised was one of the most telling signs for your worry bubbling over, the strong urge to erase whatever parasitic dissonance was taking up space in your magnificent mind grew and grew until he could not resist to take your hand in his, smiling when he noticed your lips curl into the ghost of a smile as your fingers intertwined.

"Not busy to love you. No come on, let's get you home, you spent enough time in the glass box as is." He tugged on your hand, ready to open the umbrella again to lead you to the car he had parked around the corner, but you would not budge.

"I swear you had prac-"

"I am here. Okay? Here, now." He desperately wanted to bring you back into the present. What was outside of your control, and was not your decision to make should not preoccupy you, and yet if you caught onto as much as a hint of being the source of inconvenience for another, it sent you into a grim spiral. Not this time, Yunho was not going to let you keep doing this to yourself, even if it took a lifetime.

"It must have taken you so long to get here I-" your voice was growing quieter and quieter as you focused on the sensation of Yunho’s warm hand pressed against yours.

You had not realised how much you missed the feeling, and the reassurance that came with it. He was here, indeed. He was here with you. He was there for you. You raised your head as soon as he squeezed your hand a couple of times but struggled to maintain eye contact due to the evident concern written in his glimmering orbs. The tender, compassionate eyes, irises a dark mahogany hue, a safe haven in your hardship. You wished you could fall into those pools and drift into the blissful serenity they offered. At the same time, it was terrifying how he was peering right into your soul, making it seem as if your vulnerabilities were right there, on display, just for him. A shiver ran down your spine despite the layers you were wearing.

"If you checked your phone, you would now that my schedule changed." He commented, gleaming.

"Oh, so you are saying I'm wrong for worrying now?" you tried to pry yourself away, but Yunho strengthened his grip. He was not about to let you float into that headspace again.

"I don’t mean to make you angry here, just pointing a thing out." Voice level, the dulcet timbre silently posed a question to you – what was the rush? Why were you trying to run from affection?

"I am not angry! Just why is it that out of the blue you decide to appear? I would have been fine-"

"What, have other plans?"

"Uh, no? Going home?"

"So, what is there to stop me from popping by to see my girlfriend?” he pursed his lips, pulling you towards him so that you were facing him directly. Spontaneously interested in everything but his piercing scrutiny, you took to studying the white drawstrings of his hoodie.

"But… uh… well… There is like, a lot happening right now, isn’t there? For both of us? I mean… you have all that filming to do, the comeback to prepare for… you literally just came back from tour and…” you caught yourself rambling, and trailed off into the sound of rainfall.

"Hm. Figured."

Yunho nodded to himself, clicking the tip of his umbrella against the ground as though dotting a full stop on a page. Confused, you attempted to prompt him for an elaboration.

"Excuse me?"

"That you are burned out."

The phrase was a scalding hot iron thrown at the barriers you had painstakingly been building around your mind palace. You knew that it was true. Hell, if someone had just asked you to speak the truth about what you were feeling, this was the first thing that would come to mind, but were you going to say it? No. Never. What you were feeling and what influenced you was nobody else’s problem.

"Am not." It was childish, but it was the only response you could conjure without making tears well up in your eyes. Yunho was too close, too attentive, too much for your distressed and hurt heart.

"Are too."

"Look I am fine. There is nothing-” you peered at the darkness on the other side of the street. Tuned into the rustling of the trees that lined it, and wished for yourself to become part of the scenery instead of having to confront what Yunho was trying to get you to admit.

“You said there is a lot happening for both of us, and then you just list things off about me,” he was not going to let you go this easily, both in discussion and physically as he removed his hand from yours and instead placed it on your waist, “I am perfectly aware of them. I know my limits, and I know that I am managing fine only because I am honoured to have so many people supporting me. And now, I want one of these people to tell me what this ‘a lot’ means to them, and why they are now looking in the other direction.”

Your head snapped back to Yunho, revealing your misty-eyed state. Immediately, his expression softened, and he pulled you in, keeping you flush against his chest as he absent-mindedly rubbed your back with his thumb, while his other hand was keeping the wet umbrella a safe distance away from your clothing. You bit your lip as you took in Yunho’s comforting scent. He never wore any particular perfume, instead opting to smell like a mixture of fresh laundry and a miniscule hint of soap. And yet, if you could bottle this and keep it, you would in a heartbeat. To you, this was what the aroma of home, of safety was. If he wished to make you unravel your ball of troubles, this was the way to do it, you confirmed as you felt yourself automatically melt into his touch, blinking away tears that you were tired of holding. Not exactly aligned with your scheduled ‘half an hour of breaking down when you get to your apartment’, but who were you to complain about Yunho staying here with you, in the cold, adamant on defeating your inner voice that otherwise would have led you into a further darkness.  

"Let's continue this in the car, yeah?" His voice wavered, dropping into the softest whisper which jolted you out of your guards entirely, and you let yourself be guided by him to his car.

As you ambled, side by side, you were enveloped in a total silence, the raindrops forming an abstract beat on the umbrella above you. Arm around you, fingers landing just under your shoulder, Yunho was afraid of letting you go even for an instant, the fragility in your steps and fumbling for a response as he asked if his hold felt alright for you exposing your inner dejection. And once he had you and him settled in the front and driver’s seats respectively, he put the key into ignition, but did not turn it just yet. As the rain painted a blurry masterpiece on the windshield, he tilted his head, and looked at you.

“Tell me about your day.” A simple ask, but to you it felt like one of those unsolvable mathematics problems. You could lie, and on any other occasion you probably would with a classic ‘I’m fine thank you and you’, but you would be foolish to think that Yunho would buy that. If anything, he would explicitly label the nonsense for what it was and encourage you to give him a real answer with nothing but those gorgeous, hopeful eyes of his.

“It was… you know what, it was a lot. Too much even. Really, the last couple of weeks have been too much.” You uttered, annoyance starting to boil within you as you recalled the rollercoaster of events.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want to weigh you don’t with it. Really, this is nothing. It will pass.” You fiddled with the buttons on the blazer, now within reach as you had unzipped your coat. Though your words were grammatically correct, nothing made sense to you. What was it that you were saying? Learned phrased out of the automatic deflection compartment, lines of defence in an effort to avoid discussion.

“Then why are you giving it so much power?” Yunho persisted.

“Uh… I don’t know, maybe because it is my job?”

“So, you get paid to have burn outs?” while he asked this in a joking manner, his smile did not spread past a brief flash. When you did not send a retort in his direction, he motioned for you to continue. You hated to admit it, but you agreed. As of late, this was exactly what your job had turned into. You being a hamster stuck in a wheel, running ceaselessly with no rest breaks in sight. Running in the hopes of there being a finish line. A success. A milestone. But all there seemed to be was more paperwork, more reporting, more meetings, more conflict, and more doubt.

“Well, now that you say that…”

“I am not one to judge professional choices and perfectionism. In fact, I respect you so much for being so dedicated, and being such a hard worker. But a siren is going off right now, okay? You are on the edge of a cliff, and we do not want you to fall off it, yeah?”

“What cliff?”

“I am an idiot for not picking up on this sooner, but now that I have, I must tell you: you are being pushed way past your limit, and you need a break. It is basically doctor’s orders.”

“But it’s just wo-”

“Tell me, what was the last thing one of your colleagues had said to you? About your work?” Yunho was no stranger to office gossip, through you having occasionally divulged to him the drama occurring in your workplace, and through the myriad of dramas he had watched with you and noticed that you often reacted to what was happening on screen as if it hit very close to home.

“Uhm… but it was not a nice thing so…”

“Say it.” Interest turned into a demand, and Yunho leaned closer to you.

“I only overheard it…”

“And? You still heard it.” Dropping his voice low, he rejected your subconscious devaluing of what had obviously been harm incurred.

“That I was trying too hard to please my boss…” a mumble escaped you, followed by a ragged sigh. Why was this so hard?

“That is fucked up.”

“…even though I was literally just doing my job. I was asked to do this report and all there was that was extra to it was me wanting to make it look pretty.” While you were not saying anything particularly heart-breaking, at least not by your definition, you choked up and had to force each word out with the strength you had left.

“I swear, humans are strange creatures,” Yunho mused out loud before chuckling, “says I, a human.”

“But that’s exactly why you can say it. And besides, you are a thoughtful human. Pretty much a blessing, Yunho. So don’t even.” Finally, a genuine grin graced your features, reminiscent of the first rays of sunlight after a merciless storm. Basking in the glow, Yunho returned it twofold and proudly wore the blush that started to rise on his cheeks. But he knew better than abandoning his mission so early on.

“Not to be cringe or anything, but to hear that coming from an angel is quite the honour.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you laughed airily. But the moment, unfortunately, did not last long, and your day was once more overcast by rumination. Yunho did not speak, waiting for you to give him as much detail as you felt comfortable with sharing.

“Sometimes, even if I am trying my hardest, I get this sense that I might be better off shutting up and giving the others the reins.”

“So, they are disrespecting their own manager?”

“I guess it's because I am younger than them or something. I mean, I get it, it is a gnarly economic period for the company, and everyone is losing their marbles, trying to stay above the water, but it would be good if they at least took my advice into consideration.”

If looks could destroy, then the glare that Yunho sent your office building would have set it ablaze. To curb his anger, he drummed out an abstract pattern on the steering wheel, though the grip that followed it told all. He blamed himself for not having been there sooner. For letting this pain pile on until it turned to a ball and chain that progressively set out to ruin what had been your dream career. If only it was as easy to wipe away cutting words and agonising actions like faint graphite etchings on a piece of paper.

“They should know their place, that’s what," he hissed, giving the wheel one final thump before pushing himself into his seat and turning to you, "You are being too soft on them, in my opinion. And that is why they are acting out. Promise me this, you will show them that you are a frontline manager, and you are more than capable of keeping things under control-”

“I’m trying-”

“-by taking a break. People can sense weakness, especially people who are not so kind to you. And while I cannot fix their attitude, I can try my best to help you. And before you say it, you are not coming into the office on the weekend, I am booking you up.”

"How do you know I do that?"

"Over the months of video calls you really think I did not memorise that one conference room you use to call me?" He shot back, smirking as you were at a loss, the only option being to roll your eyes and give yourself up to a legally mandated holiday.

“Yunho, you are too selfless, please, I just need a couple more hours of sleep and I’ll be all sorted."

“No, I will be selfish and take care of you. So, sit back, relax, and think of happy things. And that’s an order.”

“But that is not how selfish works?”

“It does in our world. Besides, don't you want to show them who is the boss?" The cheeky boyish grin won you over, and you beamed, whispering an amused:

"Unbelievable..."

Falling in love with Yunho did not give you butterflies in your stomach. If anything, it calmed the anxious knots that accumulated over however long the time between you being in each other's presence was. Sure, you would be okay without one another. Living life, achieving what you wanted to achieve. Brought down by the gloomy days but rising again. But together, those days were just so much less gloomy. The, what could only be described as innate, trust that you had formed in one another, was the invisible string tying you together in the gift that was your present. Falling and being in love with Yunho was like a warm day in the spring, a promise for new life, for blue skies and for a warm breeze caressing the blossoms of affection. It was like the starry night sky in the early summer, with you and him sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building where you lived, on an old bed sheet because you were yet to invest in a proper picnic blanket, but still the happiest people in the world.

As he closed the gap between you, running his fingers over your jawline before cupping your face to get a better angle, you closed your eyes and gave into the adoration that emanated from him. In the subtlest of gestures, in the sentimentality that translated into him understanding you better than how you understood yourself, he was every bit a man head over heels in love. And while either of you were yet to say the words, each action and inaction both screamed it. Perhaps it was something more than love. A proximity of the souls that was built in the quietude, in the shadows of an emotional flurry. In the hustle and bustle of common terminology, labels and anniversaries, a little world that could only come into existence with genuine intent and care became a reality. This cozy corner that housed only you and Yunho. 'Did you eat?', 'I will take care of you', 'I'm outside with medicine' were all manifestations of this unspoken devotion. And as he placed one final kiss on your rosy lips before starting up the car, you were entertained by the fascinating coincidence in the only term you could think of to describe this feeling being the exact same as your boyfriend's surname.

Flickering lights, neon signs and a revelation that the cycle could stop. Though you were on the verge of somnolence, barely resisting drowsiness settling on your eyelids like the snowflakes outside, you watched as Yunho masterfully spun the steering wheel while singing a melody which you recognised to be Standing Egg's Starry Night, one which you had made him repeat again and again as soon as you had heard it once. Upon noticing your gaze resting on him, he broke into a chuckle and fell quiet until the next red light.

"Mmm, why did you stop?" You asked and pouted, glancing at Yunho's arm as he pulled on the handbrake.

"Because I want to look at you as I sing it:

Here we are close to star

I want to stay with you forever like this

Here we are close to star

The endless starry sky and you and me..."

As he sang, in the air hung a promise. One which you did not need for him to say out loud to understand, for more often than not, the feeling itself was the true, and magical meaning.

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[knight-arts]

Mcyt aus I forgot abt pt 2,

This is a fantasy slash gods and goddesses au. It was purely an excuse so I could brainrot Dream and Phil cause they were my absolute favorites

Phil is an exiled god living in an inescapable forest, and Dream is running away from a god that stole his face. They figure out how to escape eventually but until then they live out a straight up (fantasy) cottagecore dream in Phil’s Howl’s Moving Castle-esque house lol

There’s a lot I remember from this au but so I’ll just leave it under the cut (whole ass essay underneath)

Phil returns soon after. He gets inside, foot hits something, looks down and almost jumps out of his skin at the body in the living room.

(He has this mechanical crow that his actual crows use to talk to him which allows for banter such as: “Don’t get a heart attack old man” “S H U T.”)

Anyway Phil takes care of Dream, cleans him up and everything. And when Dream wakes up Phil asks him what god he pissed off to deserve a curse like that. “what curse" "wdym what curse bruv ur whole face is gone" "my whole face is what?"

Anyway Phil's happy for the company no matter how temporary and Dream is making the best of it + just generally happy that no one is trying to kill him.

Dream along with Sapnap and George are thieves/adventurer type characters I believe. One day they stumble upon some ancient ruins and accidentally disturb XD. XD puts a sleeping curse on George as punishment. The three manage to escape but Dream goes back to try and do something about it and that's when things go wrong for him.

Phil is a god, exiled to the forest in place of his son. He is the god of the stars, married to lady Death. Kristin sends him letters by crow. Just. A new crow each time, and not all crows make it to him.

The way the forest works is that it’s essentially infinite from the inside, the trees move when you’re not looking, you cannot fly above the trees if you’re inside. It was commissioned to be a prison by the gods and when it was finished they killed the person who made it.

#dreamwastaken #philza #my art #fanart #mcyt #this au was called the “Fellow in the North” AU #a friend says that Phil looks like he’s wearing pajamas and like #yeah #I too would wear pajamas all the time if I lived alone in a forest #what was I on when drawing with this artstyle #I like it #I wrote to a friend that this au has a happy ending #and me (present time) straight up doesn’t/didn’t remember this au had an ending #the forest is inspired by Outer Wilds’ quantum grove so that’s fun

[adrielrook]

Warning spoilers and theories!

A little bird (Twitter) brought to my ears a rumor/theory concerning our beloved Scaramouche. It says that he could have lost his strength due to him being connected to the robot of his boss fight (the info comes from one of his weekly boss drops), even though I can’t be sure wether it refers to him or the robot itself (meaning that Scara can’t control it if it isn’t connected to him, which makes sense), I still like to think that it refers to him. We all saw the change in him during the cut scene, when Nahida was about to take the electro gnosis from him he charged forward to reach it and stop her, he was panicking, he broke the face/screen of the robot and put so much force in his actions that the wires connected to him ripped and he fell out of the robot. During the fall he looked like he was exhausted, like he had given up at that point, nothing mattered anymore, he had failed, it was all worthless, and the glow in his eyes faded, he looked like he was losing consciousness (I don’t want to use the word “deactivating” but you get what I mean). Now, we know that whatever happened caused him to go into a coma, but was it the absence of the gnosis, that was a source of power like a battery? Was it the disconnection from the cables (that make one go week as a newborn baby)? Or was it the fall (cause he also fell on his head I believe, like, a human wouldn’t have survived that)? I don’t know. People also began to think that the reason his gameplay skills require him to fly so much may be precisely because he needs to support himself in some way, like his legs won’t always sustain him properly. It doesn’t have to be a thing that happens often, but just in case, just to be sure. Plus he looks cool doing that so… I was thinking, imagine if this will actually be true, and we get to know he went through rehabilitation with Nahida’s help because when he woke up from the coma he wasn’t able to move or walk. And that, sometimes, he still struggles with a temporary loss of strength (and sensibility, because the boss drop mentioned that too) in his limbs. I don’t think he would want us to know about this weakness of his (only Nahida knows, but probably the traveler would discover it at some point because come on), so he wouldn’t tell anyone and just fly around from time to time, to dissimulate. And the other people would simply think that it’s in character for him to act like that so they wouldn’t pay it much mind. Ok, now, (since KazuScara are my source of comfort and I love them so much ueuueu😭) imagine if one day Kazuha found out about this thing that Scara has to deal with. It could happen In many different ways,, but just for example they could be just walking around in Sumeru together when suddenly Kuni’s legs tell him good bye and he’s taken by surprise (and doesn’t activate his anemo powers), so he’s about to fall but Kazuha’s reflexes are sharp and he catches him in time, and he’s like “You good? Did you trip on something?” And Scara is like “Uh, yes,, “ cause he doesn’t want to tell Kazuha he’s got a problem, it’s embarrassing come on, he’s supposed to be cool and strong and proud, and it’s hard for him to face his weaknesses. But he clings to Kazuha more tightly because he can’t stand and Kazuha is like “Are you sure you are ok? Are you able to stand?” And Kuni “Absolutely, yes” but Zuzu isn’t stupid.

(This is a sketch that my best friend drew when I was brainrotting on this with her, just to give you the idea, I’m very fond of this so I wanted to include it)

So Kazuha lowers them till Scara is seated on the grass and he’s seated in front of him. Seeing Scara fidgeting with his vision holder, trying to think of an excuse, he sighs softly and waits, it’s not like Scaramouche HAS to tell him if he doesn’t want to but the facts are very much obvious, and he’s concerned. At some point Scara can’t bear to see the worry on Kazuha’s face anymore and spits it out “Yes ok! I admit it I can’t walk right now !”. Kazuha’s expression softens a little “How often does this happen?” Scara doesn’t look at him in the eyes “Not often, just sometimes” he clarifies. After some more time Scaramouche decides it is safe enough to tell Kazuha (It’s not like he’s going to laugh at him) and so he tries to explain a little better what happened to him. Kazuha has a lot of feelings mixed up inside about this situation but he’s relieved that Kuni was honest with him, and he’s happy because now that he knows, he will be able to help him more in the future. Scara accepts Kazuha’s help to walk back to their place (be it a camp, a tent, a teapot)

What I like about this is that Kuni feels safe when he’s with Kazuha, he trusts him and knows that he’ll be taken care of when he’s got one of those moments, it is still difficult for him to openly admit this and to ask for help, but Kazuha always understands.

In the worst case scenario he falls like a potato bag and it becomes dangerous because if he’s alone he won’t be able to protect himself (unless he’s able to do magic tricks with the wind), and for this time (please forgive me) I wanted to draw just that. It’s just a what if, all of this is just a what if but you know what I mean.

So Kazuha will wait with him till he gains his functions back, speaking softly, chatting, making him laugh, distracting him a little. He always enjoys spending time with Kuni but he knows it must be frustrating to have to deal with such issue, especially for someone like him, he feels bad for this so he tries to make the best out if those moments. And Kuni lets him do it, and he’s thankful for having him by his side.

Here they’re just heading back to the traveler’s teapot (cause in my world they’ll be in my party and in my teapot as well). ☂️: “but don’t let the others see..” 🍁: “don’t worry, I won’t”

It’s their little secret thingie.

Thank you to those who have read till here!💕💕🍁☂️

#fanart #genshin impact #sketchbook #genshin #sketch #genshin kazuha #kazuha kaedehara #kunikuzushi #kazuha x kunikuzushi #genshin fanart #comfort kazuscara #kazuscara #soft kazuscara #scarakazu #wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin theory #i love them #my art <3

[m-r-levine]

Unspoken : a wip that shouldn’t be

It occurs to me I should probably explain the og/elf brainrot premise of Unspoken since basically I’ve not talked about anything #Dark Tapestry outside of asks in literally years due to mi hijo maldito stealing the spotlight becoming the focus of my writing attention for the last four years or so.

Especially since searching my own blog is turning up almost nothing. 🤦 I swear I feel like I froth at the mouth about these characters all the time and yet my blog shows no evidence of this?? What strange unsearchable vortex have they fallen into this time?

Ahem.

The context…

Under the Weaver's hand, all patterns move in harmony.

Where chaos moves, all theory becomes meaningless.

Daidel is a world of darkness and light, in possession of magic and technology, science and divine power, often at war with itself. Terrible things happen in this world under two moons, and wonderful things as well. The stories in this world span the globe and a massive stretch of time — but the first thread written belongs to a mortal chosen to become a Fury.

The cast

Although the supporting cast is as usual a sprawling mess of multiple cities and factions, the brainrot thin excuse for a plot centers on just two characters: Keris and Davri.

Neither a hero nor a villain nor yet a world power, Praetor Brynrinkeris Z’equidai Chath il Rex do’Xiphos is merely an arrow aimed at one particular offense to the gods (not the Weaver, merely some number of little gods) who is also no one of any particular or weighty consequence except to the gods offended by his existence. Although still mortal, fallible, vulnerable, and utterly killable, Keris was given a certain… conditional permanence in order to facilitate her mission. (Not that she has any idea what it is or that she even has this drive at all. It’s not terribly important to this particular plot or even half of them, it’s just… there. A little narrative land mine that may or may not ever trip.) She has led the Trinae for several centuries now - but this is not remarkable either. Even moonborn with no magic at all can live a thousand years if they set their formidable Wills to it, evade the ravages of wild magic and pestilence, and no one finds the motivation to pay the hefty bills arranging a permanent death would incur.

She will neither save nor destroy the world at any point in the Dark Tapestry. She is sometimes the narrative focus and sometimes she is just a stranger neglecting to pay a gate fee in someone else’s bad day. She is not particularly unique - even when she cheats Death the Scalekeeper, especially after the formation of the Ravens* in the aftermath of the Forge Moon explosion. She is merely a red thread.

…And Davri’s commanding officer. (Whoops)

The little mercenary company Trinae Amicae is not so little anymore - hasn’t been since they seized the wild heartstone in the deadlands of Molniya and built the hidden fortress of Xiphos atop it. Half village, half command center and training ground, Xiphos is hidden by the landscape itself and the wild magic rampant throughout that part of the world… and maybe a little help from the mages of the Amicae who have made their home there for many daystar generations. Although the Trinae is known in many citystates for their professionalism and efficiency and their ruthless policies should a promised paychest dare to be late, little else is known outside their organization beyond their red and gold banner and the frigid reputation of the Praetor who leads them: not only is she a moonborn grand adept who lives apart from other ekete, she owes allegiance to no city at all, and neither does anyone else under the Trinae banner. Centuries ago this was regarded as an amusing and temporary (read: doomed) quirk by administrators of the major cities — in the contemporary era, most civil and military functionaries tacitly agree it’s not worth their lives or livelihoods to question their paperwork too closely. Especially as the Trinae are one of the few Companies willing and able to field any measurable resistance to the violent ambitions of the Ragestorm Empire of Mor’chagh.

Davrush mej Nakun was born among the oggish clans of the Amicae, and follows the wide path forged by his foremothers to train in the arts of war and serve the banner in his turn. Unfortunately, the distant, abstract, and imposing Praetor became a tangible and distressingly mortal reality for him when he was still a child. He has carried a more-or-less secret flame for her ever since, despite six years in voluntary exile attempting to obey her order to overcome what she believed to be a starry-eyed sort of hero-worship infatuation common to the young of every kind. He is acknowledged a master weaponsmith, and on his return to Xiphos and refusal to accept a commission into the Elite Three Hundred** until the Trinae could be (mostly) self-sufficient in the matter of their armaments, he was elevated to Legate (the second-highest rank - there were two Legates previously, East and West, and he was made a third, Artifex) and charged with authority over the craftspersons and armory among the Trinae, both in Xiphos itself and support staff in the field.

Working so closely with the love of his life, burdened with both the privilege and responsibility to advise and argue with her is a torment he embraces with stoic determination and absolute discretion. He is widely respected as a warrior, artisan, educator, and leader. He embodies the highest virtues of the Trinae, regards his rank as a vocation, and more than a few whispers around the Company speculate that the spirit of their First Praetor (a human knight of the early fourth kiya, Cieramos the Bright) may have been reborn as a chaste og - and what a pity, since unbonded oggish rarely live past seventy-five.

The plot

And now we get to the heart of the brainrot the Excuse to wallow in pining the surface plot.

Three foreigners defy the landscape and magical protections around Xiphos to approach the Trinae with a delicate job offer. They negotiate a deal for an advance party to discreetly evaluate the scope of the work they want: the Company to protect their walled city from multiple external threats and also to mediate between political factions within their city.

Keris has Doubts™️ but at the same time she needs to solve the problem of how these envoys found Xiphos to begin with, how they came to possess artifacts once owned by Cieramos, and how to position a successor for a stable transition when she can no longer lead the Trinae. A campaign past the edges of the charted world would make such a convenient circumstance to force the succession one way or another, if only she can subtly guide the Council to acknowledge the best and most natural choice in their midst. (She is of course certain that when they offer Davri the mantle of Praetor he will finally see reason and secure a platonic bond of convenience to extend his life.***)

Davri attaches himself to the campaign in no small part to prevent her from seeking Death despite Keris’ initial refusal by implying he will seek a bond and establish a family after they return. No one would deny him the right to one last glorious campaign — and to sweeten the deal the foreigners carry better steel than they can make, and armaments of a different style than anyone else. He is the expert on both - and he is more than enough of a warrior and tactician in his own right to command the Three Hundred in the event the Praetor cannot — or if circumstances require a division of their forces.

Naturally, reconnaissance and peacekeeping in Udea does not go easily. Month after month of work uncovers only more tangled politics and personal vendettas and pockets of wild and malicious magics both. Nothing in the desert is simple - and by the Writ the Company is no longer free to walk away from the problem of the modern citystate as inconveniently active magical artifacts predating the Rending of the Forge Moon keep surfacing from various conflicts and expeditions into the trackless sands.

Every day spent in close company on this delicate, dangerous campaign increases the pressure to forge some kind of victory from the chaos, and doubles the challenge of pretending to continued faith in their mutual fiction of indifference.

The Writ that governs the Trinae is sacred and good and right — and the officers of the Company are held to an even higher standard of faithfulness to their laws. Anything less would destroy the foundations of the strength that protects the freedom of the Amicae. No one clear of mind and heart would disagree, much less the highest authorities among them.

Abuse of a subordinate carries the same grave and final penalty as treason and sabotage. No one knows this better than Keris, who bears the silent grief of enforcing the Writ herself.

Control is paramount for a mage, passion is dangerous. Keris is a grand adept with many centuries of field experience behind her. Control is as much her field of expertise as magic and war.

And yet, and yet.

Every “remedy” she leverages against temptation fails to slay the desire to embrace the forbidden beloved at her side.

You see the problem, of course.

The delightful, sticky, overheated pressure cooker of a star-crossed mutual-pining friends-to-lovers slow burn idiots-in-love size-difference monsterfuckery-adjacent secondearth military fantasy adventure kinky romance.

Why is my brain like this.

Send help.

- - -

* The Ravens are an apolitical, secretive, and vaguely occult necromantic organization common on several continents. They offer essential support and recovery services to the city-states at negotiated contract rates lower than any independent necro or dolovai can offer in exchange for a vertically-unbounded but horizontally modest plot of land within the city walls… and tax-exempt status

** The Three Hundred is a company-within-a-company of warriors under the direct command of the Praetor herself

*** Dear Reader, Keris is wrong.

#dark tapestry #writeblr #studiorat rambles #long post #unspoken #writeblr wip summary #spicy fantasy romance wip #long reads

[velinxi]

Skeletons want me Men fear me

[store]

#Nico di Angelo #PJO #ill have this for nycc and animenyc lol excuse my temporary pjo brainrot

[thera-daydreams]

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

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

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

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go on."

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

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

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

"Uh-huh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

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

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

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

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

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

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

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

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

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

》》》

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

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

"Oh my God..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ge. Without question."

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

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

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

"Do you want kids? How many?"

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

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

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

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

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

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

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

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

》》》

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

《《《

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

"Do we have a deal?"

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

"Good. Thanks."

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

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

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

》》》

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

《《《

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

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

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

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

That someone being you. Most likely.

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

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

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

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

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

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

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

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

What just happened?

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

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

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

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

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

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

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

"3, 2, 1, go!"

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

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

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

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

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

Son of a—

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Higher! That's an order!"

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

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

"Higher! Higher!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

》》》

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

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

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

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

"Yes. I do."

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

"..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

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

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

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

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

"Wha—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

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[vtoriacore]

✧ the apple of his eye

note: rook brainrot idk? I keep being so busy and things just keep coming up it's seriously just 🙂 so have this drabble because I say so ‼️✨💞

synopsis: in which you and rook let your feelings out (finally).

You've never faced a crisis such as this one; never have you dealt with intense feelings like these, which only seemed to intensify with every glance he bestowed you with. Just what exactly were you supposed to do with these untameable thoughts?

God this is getting unbearable . . .

With a small sigh filled to the brim with sheer annoyance, you bit your lip and furrowed your brows until they formed a hard crease. Yeah, you definitely weren't as 'fine' as you've previously told your friends.

"Just what am I going to do now? Not like I can confess . . ." You clicked your tongue, voicing your thoughts.

"Oh~? Confess to who hm~?" You visibly flinched, not expecting anyone to be around, much less the person that was the source of your dilemma; 'should I confess my feelings or not?'

"Oh, no one in particular." You smiled, regaining your sense of calmness although you felt anything but. On the inside, you were very much panicking at the close proximity between you and Rook.

"Hm? You sure do seem conflicted . . . I do wonder what the problem could be." Although the tonality seemed jovial, you picked up on the way the male's emerald green eyes shimmered with slight displeasure.

You wondered whether Vil had interrupted his daily stalking sessions once more, as the blonde would usually not get bothered by anything else but having an obstacle between him and one of his greatest interests. Or perhaps he had accidentally left a mark on his bow? There is no knowing without asking.

Here I am overthinking it again, ugh . . .

"The problem is that they probably don't reciprocate my feelings." You casted your eyed downward. Admitting such issues always seemed embarrassing to you.

"Oh, mes plus chères excuses, mon amour! I'm sure anyone would grow feelings for someone as wonderful as you~! In any case, I'd say it's best you let the feelings slowly dissipate." Having said that, you now could assert with certainty that something was definitely off about him today.

You couldn't decide whether you should prioritise your own issue or aid Rook with solving his. You decided the first option, it was about time you had asked for advice directly on how to get a confession out but still accept the rejection. You just prayed to whichever God was listening that your crush doesn't know about your feelings for him. After all, it would be hard to deal with the embarrassment.

"I don't think that's possible. I should just accept rejection. Any tips on confessing and not crying in front of a guy?" Your bitter laugh didn't seem to ease Rook, who had plastered on a tight lipped smile.

"Hm, let's think chérie . . . Just pour your feelings out like a rivulet of warmth completely unmatched to the sun's shining beams! Heartbreak is temporary but the truest of pure love is forever. Always remember that you will find the one. Je t'attendrai toujours, mon amour." With a heartfelt smile, the male gazed into your eyes with warmth you've never experienced before.

The crimson hue spreading over your cheeks made you want to bury your face behind your hands although you opted to look to the side instead, missing Rook's own reddening cheeks.

When you did glance back, the blond only leaned in closer and cupped your cheek so tenderly it felt as though he might not have been touching you at all.

"Ah . . . It seems as though there isn't a need to wait after all, oui?" In that instant, you knew the implication of his words. The only thing you could do by this point is nod and give out a miniscule, tender smile.

"So my feelings have been solved after all."

Warmth blooming in your chest, you leaned in and closed the gap, placing your own hand over Rook's. The soft feeling of his plush lips against your own only made you all the more glad you had decided to finally open up, even if not fully. The only thing that mattered in the moment was you and him and your unexplainable feelings for each other.

• "Oh, mes plus chères excuses, mon amour!" : "Oh my dearest apologies, my love!"

• "Je t'attendrai toujours, mon amour." : "I will always wait for you, my love."

#rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst rook #twst rook x reader

[ofgentleresolve-a]

⭐️ , 👂 & ☎ for Hyurick? ;W;

that which is temporary, conditional, and limited in scope, but nevertheless real ( ft. relationship building meme w/ @jeoseungsaja )

send ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses.

He likes watching Hyuk paint. He knows Hyuk leads a rather stressful life thanks to his job and has little patience for incompetency, so it’s a comforting sight to see Hyuk more relaxed for once, a little looser…and on that note, I do think on the reasons they get along so well is because they both aren’t really a fan of small talk?? Like if there’s nothing to say, then they don’t feel the need to fill it?? Basically they can probably sit together for long periods of time doing their own thing.

( and bc I’m an overachiever ) In the black knight au, during the five years he was on the run, in a moment of homesickness, Patrick did once call hyuk’s cellphone from a payphone, but didn’t say anything. he really just missed hyuk’s voice and wanted to be reminded of home for a moment ;-;

send 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

"So are we gonna talk about this-" Nell makes circular motions with her hands. "You know, the King situation?"

Removing the hat, Myungdae sets it on the table next to Nell's computer. He doesn't look her or Alfred in the eye as he unties the knot holding his mask up. "I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"...You're doing it again."

"Excuse me?"

Nell sighs, hands dropping. "Look, I know you're not exactly the best at the vulnerability thing, but don't you think we deserve to at least know who he is?"

"He's a private detective looking into ANACHRON."

"Well thanks for enlightening us. I already feel so much more in the loop." Alfred scoffs, depositing his gloves on another table. "C'mon, we already know that. For one thing, he shows up enough that we had to give him a code name. And do you know how hard he makes my job? Guy's even more thorough than the police."

Myungdae peels his gloves off. Why doesn't that surprise him? There's a reason they call Hyuk at one point, one of Seoul's greatest detectives, down the drain.

"Myungdae," Nell says. "Every time he shows up, you lose your nerve. Even when you're not the Black Knight. It's like you're scared of him- you can trust us, you know?"

"At the very least, you can tell us who he is to you. Give us a reason we need to keep him out of this."

Myungdae rubs a temple. He turns around, bracing the ledge for the table. His leg is ACHING again.

"...I met him in college." He hears Nell's chair squeak towards him. The weight of the table shifts. Alfred's shoes come into sight. "He was my best friend. There and after we graduated."

send ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent).

name: lee hyuk-ah ringtone: view ( SHINee ) picture:

last text received/sent: 'Guess what I have?' 'Another puzzle, do you want to hear it?' 'You know you do. 😊'

( alex u get a bonus bc i have brainrot for hyurick ;-; sjdklsj )

send 🍺 for my muses drunk reaction around yours.

"Hyuk, Hyuk-ah," Patrick calls for his dear friend, all while tapping on his arm the way one might knock on a door. Drunk? Most likely- he couldn't get out of the department party Dr. Ratliff was throwing, but at least Hyuk is suffering with him! Cheeks red from the punch that turned out to be a lot stronger than he realized, Patrick stumbles a step towards Hyuk. His sleeves are folded up to his forearms and the first two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned. He beams at Hyuk and gives him a wide if not lazy smile. "I have a puzzle for you: what's stubborn, fast, and is known for its innate homing ability via magnetoreception?"

Hint, the answer isn't a mail pigeon!

#jeoseungsaja #( answered: patrick. ) #until the end and then a little more ( ft. patrick & hyuk ) #( verse: give mercy. ) #( verse: a knight is never without their sword. ) #uhhhh so i might've gone a little more and beyond with this jdklfjs #hope u don't mind ^^' #also of course patrick picked a derpy pic for hyuk's profile pic jskldfjs #also...they say when you're drunk you're supposedly more like yourself #he's such a nerd....a TRUE NERD #hyuk are you sure you want want this one KDSLJF #thank you so much for sending this in alex!!! i had a lot of fun writing these out!! :D #i hope you like!! and pls let me know if i should change anything :D #pls have a wonderful day alex!! :-D #jeoseungsaja ( ft. lee hyuk )

[shepard-ram]

OSHEHEIRKE I’m so happy you like my idea!!!! since I’ve been thinking about it for so long I have a few moments already planned out, mostly Fundy breaking the news that you’re not going home. So he felt bad that you had nowhere to stay during your little business trip that he built you a temporary house!!! Why is it so isolated? Uh... so it doesn’t get blown up!!! Yeah haha that happens a lot around here... don’t want anything bad happening to you!! Why is it so big if it’s only for you? Well he assumed that going from a megabase to a tiny little shack would be hard to adjust to and might make you homesick, so he made it extra big for you!!! Actually, it’s big enough for two people... hmm... maybe he should stay with you. After all, he’s your guide, not anyone else. He knows what’s best for you here. You don’t have any items or gear, you need him to protect you!!! And nobody else on the server knows you as well as he does, he knows everything about you!!! Why do you look so scared? Maybe you’re just tired, tomorrow is you’re.... oh.... right.... tomorrow’s your last day... he was so excited by you being here that the week flew by. Why is it over all ready? It’s not fair! Nobody else on this server appreciates you as much as he does. Hell, the hermits don’t appreciate you as much as he does!! Can’t you see??? Everybody is taking you for granted!!! You’re so talented and kind and accepting and NOBODY is appreciating you!!! Except for him of course, he’s the only one that can see how precious you are. When the time comes that you say, “Fundy, I need to go home now.” All he can do is giggle,

“You ARE home, silly!”

(MANY THOUGHTS HEAD FULL AAAAA ty for letting me dump my idea here!!! I have more but I’ll spare you and save them for later. They’re pretty much all hermitcraft because it’s my main hyperfixation :) -📺)

(Trust me I want to hear all your brainrot I 100% love hermitcraft more than Dsmp lmao)

And this is a great step 2, Fundy keeps making excuses for as long as he can. There's no way he could possibly make you a house in such a short time that compairs to the ones you've grown accustomed to. But it plays perfectly into his explanation on why it's just a little too big, a little too well stocked, a little too permanent.

It's child's play to convince you to let him stay, he was assigned to guide you through the server! He feels obligated to make sure you're safe at night! You wouldn't deny him that would you?

After all you're unarmed and unprepared for real war. That's why he should stay with you.

That's why he's able to keep you there.

#ask #📺 anon #tw. yandere #c: fundy

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

HAHAA I WROTE IT ALL OUT AGAIN So heres my post canon SB vanguard AU-

(Side notes: Vanny and Vanessa are different people obvs. Vanny is also kinda like. punk ish and she’s brunette too bc I love those designs. I guess the canonical ending this fits the best is the savior ending?? Where you release Vanny from Glitchtrap’s control. But Freddy’s still at the Pizzaplex bc the focus is on the humans bc I have brainrot)

In the morning when they leave the Pizzaplex, when Vanessa finds out that Gregory is an orphan, she knows she can’t just dump him on the streets. She’s not sure what else to do, so she brings him to stay with her in her 1 bedroom apartment and clears out a room to have him sleep in as a “temporary solution” while she attempts to find a foster family to take Gregory in despite Gregory’s insistent pessimism about the idea (“adults hate me, Vanessa. I’ll just end up right back where I came from.” “I’ll make sure to come crawling back to you when I get thrown back out on the streets.” “How long do you give it until I get kicked out of the entire system?”), all while trying to deal with two things:

1- She has to keep this whole operation a secret, because since Vanny stole her identity and framed her for all that shit she’s been on very thin ice legally and is almost certainly going to be convicted of child abduction if anyone finds out about Gregory.

2- Gregory is very traumatized from the events of the game and living on the streets beforehand, and Vanessa feels really guilty about not trying to help him more, but more importantly Gregory is refusing to accept that he’s traumatized and trying to repress everything.

Vanessa is also very particular about where she’s going to leave Gregory, partially because she wants him to be less pessimistic about it, but also because she wants to make sure it’s somewhere that he’ll really be safe and happy. But definitely not because she cares about him way too much to just let him go, definitely not.

She can’t get attached to him. He’ll have to leave her one way or another. She can’t get attached if she wants him to be safe.

She can’t.

Over on Vanny’s side, she is now free from Glitchtrap’s control. It’s left some physical and mental effects on her (one of which is one of her eyes permanently remaining purple as they would turn purple when Glitchtrap was controlling her), but now that she’s free she feels awful about what she did to Gregory. She wants to make up for it, so she starts spending time around him. He doesn’t know it’s Vanny, though, since she uses the name Ness rather than Vanny and he’s never seen her out of costume.

Gregory, still refusing to accept that he’s traumatized and probably paranoid, doesn’t let himself read too much into Ness > Vanessa > Vanny, or her coincidental appearance in his life, or the fact that she always hides one eye (maybe it’s injured, he tells himself, or maybe she’s just insecure about it), or the way that she’s so very affectionate and gentle with him, careful not to overstep and always doing her very best to make him feel comfortable as if she knows he’s going to be mistrustful and wants to make up for it, or for hurting him some other way. He warms up to her over time, partially due to her constant caring for Gregory’s happiness while Vanessa seems to prioritize his safety, partially because of her affectionate pet names for him, and partially just because she’s now one of only two stable adult figures in his life. He still loves Freddy, yes, but he hasn’t been able to bring himself to return to the Pizzaplex because of the deeply traumatic experience he associates with it, though he doesn’t know why.

Vanessa has always had a slight temper and anger issues, and while she’s never used it to excuse them, she knows thanks to therapy that they come from a deeply rooted feeling of inadequacy and low self image because of her own traumatic experiences she’s tried to compartmentalize.

It starts as jealousy- Vanessa says nothing, but she can always feel anger bubbling in her chest when Gregory talks about the things Vanny does with him and everything. She can’t help but be pissed that Gregory regards her ex just as highly as her, despite Vanessa giving him a temporary home and trying to find him a real one, all because Vanny has a punky style and a leather jacket and rainbow hair and can do things with him that Vanessa can’t or just doesn’t, and that she can express affection so freely in a way Vanessa can’t, and that she’s always trying to make him happy, and…

…And that it’s Vanny. And that she was the one who tried to kill him and she’s doing all of this as damage control.

Vanessa doesn’t know why, but tries her best to keep the secret. It’s not because Vanny is making Gregory happy in a way Vanessa doesn’t know how, and he’d be crushed if she took that away for the sake of protecting him from some perceived danger, though. 

And she does, for a while. She makes sure Vanny knows she’s on very thin ice, but tries as hard as she can to not intervene unless she thinks Gregory is unsafe. The worst part is probably that he never is. But the longer she keeps it, the worse her anger gets. Vanny is selfish. She’s doing this to make herself feel better, and yet Gregory is falling for all of it and the worst part is that she has no real reason to intervene because he’s totally safe. She tells herself she’s just worried for his safety and ignores the real reasons. It’s not because she cares about Gregory and worries deeply about his mental state Vanny really isn’t helping, she tells herself, and it’s not because she’s still struggling to deal with the breakup and her feelings for Vanny. She can’t be attached to Gregory, and she cannot still love Vanny. 

Doing that only makes it worse.

I don’t know how it would play out, but I imagine in the midst of a conflict, Vanessa decides she’s had enough of keeping this secret because she’s angry and doesn’t know how to navigate all this anger and no matter how “cool” and “sweet” Vanny is to him he’s still falling apart under Vanessa’s watch and Vanny isn’t doing anything but selfishly trying to make herself feel better about it, and she tells Gregory about Vanny’s real identity and how she tried to kill him. It breaks Gregory, breaching his very unstable sense of security, bringing up his trauma he’d been trying to repress, and it breaks his trust in both Vanessa and Vanny.

Vanessa doesn’t realize the weight of what she said on him until they see Gregory hit the ground. His hands grasp at strands of his brown hair, tugging at them as he tries desperately not to cry. When Vanny reaches for him, he shouts at her not to touch him and shoves past both of them to run away to his room.

They can hear him crying and gasping for air even through his closed bedroom door, and there’s a moment of silence between the two of them before Vanny looks back up at Vanessa and asks,

“What the fuck have you DONE?!”

Before storming off herself.

Weeks pass, and Gregory doesn’t get any better. He can barely sleep, doesn’t eat much, and refuses to talk to Vanessa. He stops spending time around Vanny, either, which is what Vanessa supposes she had wanted, but not like this. Not when she ruined Gregory’s mental state to get there. Not when she crushed any possibility of mending any relationships to get there. She tries to work as hard as she can to find him a foster home to get him out of this situation no matter how she wants to reject the concept of him leaving. He’s unresponsive to the idea.

Eventually Gregory runs away. Vanessa is crushed when she returns one day from work and finds Gregory gone. He’s left all his belongings there.

But she’s afraid for him, too. She starts trying to search for him, to no avail. Vanny offers to help, but Vanessa refuses and tells Vanny it’s her fault it came to this. She’d done enough damage to them both, and if she’d just accepted that and let Gregory live and find a real home instead of selfishly trying to give herself closure and take Gregory from her too, Gregory was gone and he could have died, if she’d thought about anything but herself for just one damn second-

Despite Vanny’s intense style, her rainbow-dyed hair and leather jacket, platform boots, studs and spikes, ripped jeans and fishnets and black gloves, she’s never been one to take things too seriously or get upset easily. She’s lighthearted to a fault. Her lenience was her downfall, in a sense.

So it’s a surprise to both of them when Vanny suddenly slaps Vanessa across the face full force, shocking her into silence.

She knows she’s crying, she knows she’s overwhelmed and taking it too far the same way Vanessa is, but she’s out of control and she can’t stop.

“This is ALL YOUR FAULT, VANESSA,” She hisses. “I was trying to make him HAPPY. You think I wanted to do what I did? I was being manipulated. Wouldn’t you know what that’s like? 

I hurt that poor kid, and I was trying to make up for it. I hurt YOU, and I know that, but you ruined EVERYTHING. I know that I didn’t care for him right either, but god damn it, at least I was TRYING. 

Gregory needed ME. And YOU let him down.”

At 3am the next morning, Vanny gets a call from a number she knows by heart, even though she’s long since deleted the contact.

Maybe despite her better judgement, Vanny picks up. Vanessa immediately admits that she doesn’t know what to do on her own. All she wanted was to keep Gregory safe and stable until she found someone she could entrust him to. She didn’t think Vanny actually cared about Gregory, she admits, because Vanessa was doing everything she could to get Gregory to a stable place, and she couldn’t see how Vanny was helping. She apologizes for pinning it on Vanny and asks for help finding him.

It’s a call not for reconciliation, but for a truce.

Vanny accepts.

Using Vanessa’s knowledge of Gregory and Vanny’s ability to stay “under the radar”, they devise a plan and search for Gregory without alerting anyone of the situation, including authorities. 

They find Gregory at the Pizzaplex, of all places- the last place they thought to look. Knowing Gregory’s trauma, they figured he wouldn’t go back there after the fight, but that’s where they find him, curled up on the couch in Freddy’s green room.

(Freddy is nowhere to be found, and his green room is supposed to be off limits while he’s under heavy maintenance. Gregory must have snuck in with a security pass.)

Moondrop warns them that Gregory has run away, hid and even attacked when the animatronics have attempted to approach him. However, he makes no attempt to move or even really react when Vanny and Vanessa enter. He’s generally unresponsive as the two attempt to apologize and explain, but he intervenes when Vanessa tries to promise that she will try her hardest to find a good foster home and that she’s sorry she was so hesitant to let him leave whether or not it was what was best for him, that she’ll really try her best to make sure it’s a good one, she knows he was pessimistic about the idea before but…

Then Gregory interrupts, saying only,

“I wanted to stay with you.”

And that is when Vanessa realizes how much her distant behavior and attempts not to get attached so she could do what was objectively best for Gregory have damaged him. He was never able to tell her he just wanted to stay with her because she refused her feelings about him, and he felt like she didn’t care.

She’s finally able to realize how much he means to her. Without knowing what it will mean to keep the promise, she swears to Gregory she won’t leave him or force him to leave her.

When they return Gregory to Vanessa’s apartment, they agree to keep up their “truce''. They will only spend time around each other when Gregory is involved, and not let their personal lives and relationships interfere with Gregory’s life.

Never mind that they still both have feelings for each other.

They won’t talk about that. They won’t think about that. They won’t act on their feelings. They won’t do anything. They’ll keep it under wraps. They hurt this kid badly, and they owe it to him to give him stability.

Gregory knows that Vanny and Vanessa are still repressing and ignoring their feelings toward each other, but they refuse to admit the feelings go either way. (Though Gregory tries testing it a bit- “y’know Vanessa, Vanny likes you too.” “I- Like hell she does, I don’t like her either!”) He thinks it’s painfully ironic that they’re repressing and pushing away their feelings to avoid a repeat of another incident caused by them repressing and pushing away their feelings.

So, he begins attempting to set them up.

And that’s basically the lead-up to/story part of the AU itself, the actual AU just being a sort of slow-burn setup between Vanny and Vanessa where they basically come to finally address their lasting feelings for each other.

(They are both still absolutely going to be convicted of child abduction if anyone finds out about Gregory.)

Also I REALLY want to throw Millie into this AU bc I have CTW brainrot and I can’t stop thinking about Millie and Gregory being besties but I have no natural way to bring her into it 😭

OMGGGGGG THESE TWO-

Gregory, my poor baby tho, noooo (insert screaming and crying on the floor) 😭😭😭😭😭

God, their relationship issues are on a whole other level in your AU compared to mine maybe because the breakup was mutual for them in my AU and the issues only started when Breach found out that Vanny was the one stealing her identity and framing her for child murder but-

Yeah, these two need to get their feelings together

Also yes, Millie being Gregory's bestie/older sibling figure supremacy

#asks #answered #soapiewaltened