#‘fuck it I’ll get famous out of spite’

[ceruleancattail]

I WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE A BREAK TODAY BUT UNFORTUNATELY CHARLOTTE SANDS AND HER SONG “Spite” HIT ME HARDER THEN I EXPECTED TODAY-

So have my brainrot of Rock Star Vil.

The purple ends of his hair flying around, as Vil picks up the microphone from its stand. Pumping his fist in the air, to an astonishing loud cheer from the crowd. He’s in all black, silver jewellery sparkling on the base of his neck, draping delicately over his collar bones. Chains around his wrists, twinkling like stars.

Even amidst a thousand stage lights, Vil still found a way to shine the brightest amongst all of them. He clutches at the microphone like it’s his lifeline, knuckles growing white from the sheer force he was exerting. Singing to the crowd, every letter spilling from his lips. Every syllable seemed laced with an alluring poison, an enchanting melody that never left your heart after you’ve heard it once.

Vil had the voice of an angel, and the raw, burning emotion of one who had been cast down unjustifiably. Truly the fairest of all.

Perhaps you’re his manager. Trailing after him after every concert, passing him a towel or some water. Vil’s rather grateful to you, considering the fact that you’ve stuck with him all this while. Even when he was just a fledgling of a singer.

You two sometimes spend lonely nights with each other, scribbling down lyrics on pieces of scented notepads. Ideation and inspiration do come from odd places… and having a piece of you in his songs does sound rather appealing to Vil.

He keeps the pages with your handwriting on it. Tucks it in a small drawer for him to pour over later, smiling softly at the way your letters dance across the page.

He does insist you watch his performances live on stage whenever you can. There’s a different sort of experience you get from listening to someone sing on the stage, rather than in a recording studio. The atmosphere, the sheer energy of the crowd…

And besides, he’ll do so much better if he knew your lovely gaze was on him for the entirety of the show.

So what do you say, love?

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #Vil #Vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #lucky charm 🔷 #THE LYRICS FUCKING FIT HIM I SWEAR #‘fuck it I’ll get famous out of spite’ #‘I’ll make it overnight’ #‘be starring in movies just to make you cry’ #‘yeah I’ll be in your dreams’ #‘and every magazine’ #‘if you say you knew me’ #‘they’ll say omg’ #‘damn you fumbled the bag’ #‘gonna be your biggest regret’ #‘cause’ I’ll be famous out of spite spite spite spite’ #SHUT UP I LOVE THIS SONG WIANSKKSS #ppl are getting sick of me singing this at 8 am in the kitchen but I don’t care I cook my rules

[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Twelve

A/n: This is a lot shorter than the last few but I had to leave it here so I'm sorry about that, hope you like it though! Already working on the next part!!<3

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Lots of angst, pls dont hate me x

Masterlist

--

My eyes met his straight on. There was no worming our way out of this.

“The night you finished with me. I want to know what really happened.”

...

George just laughed me off. “You know what happened. Why do you want to rehash things now?”

He was acting like none of it mattered. Like he didn’t care that he’d gone and broke my heart. That I’d never felt so lost whilst looking at him.

“Because I need to.” I told him honestly. 

I tried to catch his eye then but he was already moving again, standing from his seat and walking straight past me. I watched him open the window, watched him fiddle with a cigarette he’d pulled from the packet he kept there on the side, watched his hand tremble ever so slightly when he lit it.

“I need to know, George. Please. It’s been eating me up inside.”

He inhaled deeply and his eyes fell shut on instinct. I sat there in the silence. Wallowing. Hoping. Thinking over everything I could possibly say to him.

I was shaky when I climbed to my feet, using the edge of the coffee table for assistance. I tried to stay level-headed, keeping the stilted distance even as I rounded on him, using the window to divide us. Him on one end, me on the other.

“Why?” I repeated.

Why won’t you answer me? Why won’t you tell me what went wrong? Why won’t you just look at me?

That word always seemed to be on repeat. The instrumental to my life, I supposed.

George simply shook his head, tapping some ash out onto the window ledge outside. It was dark. The moon was high in the sky, the streetlights had been on for a couple hours, and there wasn’t another soul in sight.

I decided to play a different angle.

“Never pictured you in a place like this.” I breathed, eyes drawn to the quiet street below. To it’s perfectly paved pavement. “In a big empty house.”

I was being spiteful. I knew that but I couldn’t quite seem to help it. To stop myself. I knew what wounds to poke at. Where to hit where it hurt. I knew how to get him to bite back. 

“Figured it’d remind you too much of home.” I shrugged, feigning my obliviousness to the way every muscle in his neck was now tensing. “You always hated it when they were away. When you were left on your own. This feels similar.”

“Yeah, well things change. People change.” George snipped back, I could just make out the faint reflection of his face in the glass, his expression hard and unblinking. He took another long drag.

“I know that much. Suppose you did, didn’t you? Right in front of my eyes, without me even realising.” I replied, voice barely above a whisper. “How is your mum, by the way? Did you tell her about me?”

“She’s fine.” He answered the first, but not the second. “Just drop it, would you?”

But I couldn’t. Not when I was finally getting somewhere with him.

“How did she take the news?” I prodded further, fingers toying with the floral netting he had hung. “Was she as surprised as I was?”

“I said leave it.” George snapped, tossing the cigarette he'd almost finished out of the open window before he turned to me. “You never know when to just stop.”

“I want answers.” I told him with a jerky shrug, chest rising and falling at a new found rate when he stepped closer. “I’ll get them one way or another.”

“The fuck you will.”

He was angry now.

Stood before me, so close I only needed to let go of the curtains I was clinging to to touch him. His nostrils were flared and his eyes were just as glossy as mine felt when I watched him rake his gaze over my pitiful expression. I stood my ground even though he towered above me.

“Or what?” I snarked right back, my whole body heaving. The feeling you’d only ever get when toeing so close to the very edge. Never knowing how far you'll fall. “You wanna scare me? Make out you don’t care so you can push me away, is that it?”

His jaw locked and his hands clenched by his sides, but I didn’t dare move an inch. George was a thousand things, but violent was not one of them. I could see beneath the stoney expression he’d long perfected, he was just as hurt as I was. He had to be. Because he had to have a reason for keeping me at arms length. For keeping me away for so long. For lying to me again and again.

“Come on, George!” I shouted at him, arms thrown out wide in my irritated exasperation as I waited for an answer. An in. “Is that all you’ve got to say to me? Or-” I scoffed, unable to help my painful chuckle as I stared up at him, “Haven’t got to say, I ‘spose would be a better fit. ‘Cause that’s all you given me since the day you left! Isn’t it? You’ve given me nothing, nothing but lies. When all I’ve ever asked from you is the truth.”

George took a giant step away from me, hand pinching at his nose whilst he squeezed his eyes tightly closed. He laughed defeatedly to himself when his arm finally fell away, releasing a heavy harsh breath along with it. 

He was shaking his head next, at me or himself, I wasn’t sure. But his gaze was fixed firmly on the floor. “Why can’t you just leave this the fuck alone?”

“Because it’s been keeping me up at night!” I all but screamed at him, hoping he’d somehow hear the plea behind my words. “It’s made me question everything I am, everything you’ve ever taught me! You were my best mate before anything. I always thought that meant something to you at least.”

“You’re talking shit now.” George bit back, an attempt at belittling me. He rolled his eyes. “Fucking grow up.”

“You know what? You’re a joke.” I scoffed. I was flat out crying now. I could feel the tears as they stained my face, catching on the bow of my lips and falling aimlessly down my cheeks. I wondered whether or not he actually cared. If it hurt him to see me like this, in the same way it tore me apart having to watch him act like this, to me of all people. He’d never felt so far out of reach. 

“What’s that meant to mean?” His eyes were on me now, narrowed and flitting back and forth between my own. I just wanted him to hear me. To stop and see how much he was hurting the both of us. 

“You, George!” I shot back, “You! You’re a paradox! You want to be happy but you only ever focus on the things that make you sad. You say you don’t care, when really you care so much it hurts. Love is something you crave but whenever things get too real, or when stuff starts to change, you reject it and push it away. Push me away! You’re a walking contradiction, and a fucking complicated one at that. If you cant figure yourself out, George, how the hell am I meant to?”

I was crumbling, falling apart under his cold stare. He hadn't moved an inch.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Is it?” I questioned with a tilt of my head. But he was already on the defence.

“And I never once asked you to work me out either.” George added mostly for the sake of it, his voice so harsh and unfamiliar. We were toe to toe now, only the coffee table there to separate us. “So, who cares if you do or if you don’t? Who the fuck cares if I’m everything you say I am? We’re not together anymore! You’re not mine. I’m not yours. Why can’t you get that through your head?”

He was right. 

I slumped at his words. At the very thought. All the fight I’d been building up practically slipped away from me in that moment. I felt it untangle in my chest, drifting through my veins, up my arms and then down my legs until it was just gone.

But even at my lowest, I still couldn't turn away from him.

I had one more thing to ask. For my own peace of mind. 

“Then what have the last few days been for?”

He stared back at me. Mute. Gone was the sheen in his eyes, the tick of his jaw. All I was met with was a blank gaze. It was like he wasn’t even there at all. 

I closed my eyes for a moment, dipping my head once. Well and truly done. I didn’t say another word to him as I made my way out of the room, or down the stairs. Even when my mind silently begged and pleaded for him to follow.

I put my shoes on one by one, I grabbed my coat. And then I waited a second. Then two.

For something.

Anything.

I realised after the third second that followed I would have to open the door, that he was just going to let me leave.

I wondered if he saw the irony in it all. In me being the one who was giving it all up. Who was walking out on us.

And as the door closed quietly behind me, I felt the rattle of it shake the hinges, shake my bones. It echoed in my ears and danced out into the empty night. My fingers trailed across its wood as I dragged my hand away. Realising then that it appeared to be raining now too.

I guess somewhere during the time we’d spent arguing, the skies had opened up. I found myself wishing I’d worn a thicker coat, or at least had the forethought to grab a hoodie on my way out that morning. 

I kept my head down as I made my way down the garden path and back through the iron gate, arms crossed firmly over my chest in hopes that they would somehow hold me together. I wouldn’t let myself look up to that upstairs window where I hoped he might be. I wouldn’t do it to myself. I couldn’t. So I continued on, head down sheltering my face from the on pour, putting one foot in front of the other.

The rain was really coming down now. Lashing as the evening wind howled around me. I figured I’d catch a cab at the end of the street, or order an Uber a bit away. Somewhere where I wouldn’t be tempted to turn back. To try with him once more.

I dropped down off the curb, water cascading down the slope of the road and under my boots. My feet splashed against its current, splattering the hem of my trousers. I found I didn’t much care, my mind focused on just getting home.

It was in that next moment I heard his voice call out for me. My head shot up at the sound, hope rising in my chest, and I meant to turn back towards the house, towards him. I really had. But then there were lights. They were so bright they stunned me. Froze me in place. I put my hands up to cover my face, confused. And then I couldn’t see a thing.

Only hear the heavy fall of rain, then a screech I couldn’t quite make out, and George’s voice calling my name.

Part thirteen>

#the 1975 #george daniel #george daniel the 1975 #george daniel fic #george 1975 #george daniel x reader #matty #matty healy #george daniel x you #1975 #best friend matty #the 1975 band #fic #adam hann #ross macdonald #carly holt #1975 band #matty 1975 #series #work #exes to lovers #y/n #reader #multi part fic #x you #x reader #angst #laugh #fluff #humor

[shotorozu]

hii!!! i have a lil request! its smth ive been thinking a lot about bc i love him so much, but how do u think shoto would be with someone whos like super counter-culture? like super goth or punk or gyaru or smth! im personally really into goth and have lots of facial piercings including some that are not super common like angel fangs as well as a bunch of tattoos, brightly dyed hair and dress kinda trad goth on the regular w bones and all that.

i can kinda see him maybe catching interest in someone whos so outside of the norm in style as a way to kinda fuck w his dad since he grew up so traditionally and all that, but also he seems like he'd be too kind to actually follow through with dating someone solely to spite his dad.

skfbdidjd idk! i just kinda wanna hear other ppls thoughts on it! i hope u have a good holiday season and a good new year!

(gender neutral reader, no pronouns mentioned— i tried to be very broad when it came to describing aspects of aesthetics)

ohh i think shouto being with someone that’s super counter culture is an interesting concept

before meeting them, he’d probably walk past them— his future s/o decked out in super cool accessories (including piercings), tattoos and dyed hair, and his neck would almost SNAP due to how fast he looked back at them 😭😭

it’s a culture shock, he obviously isn’t used to people that are so.. non-traditional? if he brought you in front of his dad then his dad would probably freeze up (ironically) and get sent to the hospital in an ambulance.

he’d be in awe just by looking at them standing, breathing, doing nothing— the wrist guards (solely for aesthetics, a shock for shouto since he needs those in the heroics) leg warmers, colorful hairpins, intricate and one of the kind hairstyles—

your overall fashion sense has him gawking.

it’s almost rude (and is about to become that way) the way he’s just opening staring at you like some kid on an airplane— but y’know, he’s kinda cute so you don’t make much of it. on top of that, you should probably mind your business, and not start some beef with the current #1 hero’s youngest and also famous son.

when he gets to know you more, he finds himself liking you— whether or not your personality aligns perfectly with your chosen aesthetic, or it’s the polar opposite, he finds himself sticking to you like some lost puppy.

it’s a perfect 50:50 of “i think your personality is cool” and “i need to follow you because i need to look at you more. you LOOK cool”

so he dates you for the reasons above and also because he wants to piss off his dad— because again, looking at you could send endeavor into a shock. (and he dates you genuinely because he actually really likes you and wouldn’t use you without your consent just to spite his very traditional father)

all backstory aside, he goes to you when he needs advice to level up his appearance— that includes fashion. anything you say is noteworthy, and he will absolutely take any advice as long as you say it.

he also comes to you for advice for piercings especially.

yeah, because y’know how it looked like he had some cartilage piercings in some of the latest official arts? he definitely went to you to ask for the pain level and aftercare.

“will it hurt?”

“yeah.. it’s cartilage after all. what if you got a lobe piercing first? you don’t have one.”

“i trust you. :)) so i’ll get one if you say so.”

he would’ve made you pierce his ears— or he did make you. it depends on how okay, and experienced you are with it. (and even if you weren’t— he’d still want you to do it 💀 it’s a good thing you could say no)

he’d also want to know the backstory behind any of your tattoos if you have any.

and he’d also want to try everything with you— that includes touching up your hair dye, getting new clothes, painting your nails, doing your makeup— the endless amount of things he’s willing to do with you, and assist you with 😭 i need someone like that

anyways, besides everything fashionable— he is your number one defender.

someone (for some stupid reason) said out loud “when i think of todoroki, i can’t imagine him being with someone like Y/N..”

and before anyone could say anything else, he just blankly replies with

“when i think of you, i can’t imagine you with anyone.”

that causes everybody to shut up, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from breaking into a smile.

he’s ruthless sometimes 😭

#tldr: he’s in love your honor 😻 #🗣—. talks !! #🫂.thanks‼️ #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha fluff #bnha x y/n #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki imagines #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #shouto x reader #shouto imagines #shouto fluff #todoroki shouto headcanons #shouto headcanons #bnha headcanons #todoroki shouto fanfic

[boxwinebaddie]

PUNK ROCK COVER OF NIGHT SHIFT DURING THE RAVESEY DIVORCE????? MAYBE??

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD BITCH!!!!!

( i’m crying already )

no, this is a stroke of genius. holy shit, no jokes, after my break up i listened to night shift on fifteen hour loops, scream sobbing until my throat was rubbed raw and i feel like ravenstan was probably the same. worse tbh.

but i just know it was hauntingly beautiful and absolutely fucking devastating. i know that first high note was grisly and VISCERAL. like you could hear that pain and felt it. ugh. unfortunately, i do think he cried and had a stannic attack, probably just because he was rlly sad,

but also bc lots of fans, understandably, are now sad, miserable children of divorce ( rip ravesey ), however, are holding out hope of their getting back together, so there’s still lots of ravesey signs, teeshirts, pictures of their faces in the audience, honestly, lots of people dressed like them, but i think he either caught a glimpse of someone tall with red hair or thought he heard kyle’s voice bc his synesthesia did The Thing but i think it was just someone playing a tiktok really close to him…

but uh, yeah, he had a major anxiety attack and had to cancel the rest of the show, which means stan didn’t get to hold a q&rae w/ his fans at the end of that concert which means…no one got to give raven…

….a jersey conjecture.

i’ll give it a better name later, it probably is some something in spanish that has to do with a question, or asking something and yérsey — i just made it a lawyer term bc stan was being extra salty, but i have this brutal hc that after jerseykyle and ravenstan broke up, he could not get through concerts or take any fan questions because it was all people talking over eachother and specifically people rapid firing questions about kyle and them breaking up…which was extremely stressful.

but when you’re a famous rockstar in a highly publicized extremely well loved relationship and break up, that sort of thing is bound to happen. there was no preventing it

…but he could control it.

so, what raven decided to do was that every q&rae he was going to randomly pull like a ticket or a seat number and that person and that person only ( if they so pleased ) could ask him ONE jersey question. stan at this point is also really pissed and blistery and bitter and probably on a sad boy bad boy bender, so he answers them really passive aggressively. like if someone asks him ‘if stan has anything he wants to tell him’ stan will say something to the effect of ‘we’re out of toliet paper.’

( also this entire thing is a very jersey thing to do, me thinks? i think it’s out of spite, him trying to prove he’s unbothered when he’s so fucking bothered also he is really, really bad at acting aloof and austere — but the alcohol helps :/ also kyle does roll his eyes and say it’s immature like he’s not out here answering one stan question a day…but he’s kind of a hypocrite bc stan blocked him everywhere so pretty much their only line of communication is thru the stuff he says during concerts or things he says in interviews…they are messy smh )

also people get really mad if someone asks something stupid like “woah, wait i get to ask the kyle question?” like woops now you don’t! or asks him whether they’re getting back together instead of asking an actual useful question!!!! the people are Committed to ravesey!!!!

but yeah, most of the time stan be answering them in riddles or like someone’s defiant teenager following a shot, but every once and a while he face cracks. because a lot of the time people ask really stupid shit but i think a girl asked him, very earnestly ‘do you still love him?’ and stan opened his mouth, almost said yes and then said

“it doesn’t matter.” :)

—uncle nina, in hell

#i have no idea how this headstannon came to fruition #but it was too chaotic stan needed a system #he was also really hurt and acting out #i think in his head it was very like #if kyle wants to pretend like he’s in love with me when he’s not #i guess i can pretend to hate him when i don’t #im in hell #i know kyle sits there and refreshes the grainy ass reels of those people put on snap #but yeah he will answer anything else really normal #but if u ask him abt kyle he’s short with u #and pretends to be unbothered #he’s so bothered omg #i need someone to pass a jersey conjecture onto actual jersey #but yeah i didn’t talk abt it but kyle was hella quiet and retreated inward during the divorce #and stan was all over the tabloids acting a fucking fool being a bitter betty #on legitimately his worst behavior like that was antistan he was hurt hurt #it was scary

[oculusxcaro]

👫

Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

You know how Mary channels the spirit (and spite) of Regina George? That shit completely flies over Khare's head. Every sarcastic comment, every sympathetic remark even when it's blatantly obvious Mary doesn't mean a fucking word of it is taken as gospel. Maybe Mary's just that good of an actor but Khare will simply smile and nod in response, chattering along without taking offense even if the other woman is verbally ripping her to shreds. No doubt it makes for fun times when Mary needs a verbal punching bag and a certain scientist is nowhere to be found...

Even when things are cleared up and Khare knows Mary isn't a child, it's not hard for her to turn on the puppy dog eyes to get a free shake or snack. She's just that stinking cute and 'Cindy's niece' occasionally makes an appearance at the diner whenever Mary's out of Arkham.

Probably not a healthy relationship. Mary is astute when it comes to observing people and Khare is very much the type she can twist around her little finger, first as a stupid newcomer who doesn't know any better how this city works and then scooping her up into her little claws when it comes to light Khare's not exactly human.

Khare doesn't read the tabloids. She doesn't read about actors or actresses, the long history of Gotham and her famous people or what the media spins about them. To her, Mary is Mary and maybe she's a little mean, even a little scary at times but she only sees the person standing before her, not what others claim she is.

#babydxhl #memes ;; four headcanons about our muses #Okay I rambled a LOT and hopefully didn't assume too much but #You know how much I love Mary #She is endlessly fascinating to me #And she would be to Khare too I think #I think their relationship could be interesting in a way #Khare is way too new to Gotham to know half the shit that matters #Not going to pay a blind bit of attention to the media and all the shit they spout #Literally just thinks Baby Doll is what they call her asdfghjkl #Very non-judgemental and I don't know how much Mary NEEDS that #Sorry I've been screaming and crying while writing this #Also I find it wildly funny that Mary is older but doesn't look it asdfgh

[lananiscorner]

The Sandman rewatch - episode 7

So I like to do this thing where, if I didn’t consider a show a complete waste of time and if it does have an actual arc spanning the season, I watch the season twice–once as a binge watch and then once more episode by episode, because it helps me notice things I didn’t notice at first, especially in cases like this where I’m almost entirely unfamiliar with the source material.

Anyway, any and all chronological thoughts and ramblings about episode 6 of The Sandman beneath the cut, because spoilers.

Well, we’re starting this episode off on a lovely note. Rose’s dad can get fucked for all I care.

You know you’re messed up when the anthropomorphic personification of Despair tells you that you’ve gone too far.

Oh, so the whole business with Nada was Desire’s fault too? I guess there’s one in every family…

Rose has guts going straight from “sure, I’ll pay you” to “you’re not hiring by any chance, right?”

It’s nice to see Lucienne actually being wrong about something for a change. Also, I wanna know what’s residing in Abel’s basement. lol

Wow, Dream’s castle is looking nice again. Took him barely any time to fix the place up, huh?

Aww, Matthew is volunteeering to help out Dream by watching over Rose in the waking world.

Lyta and Rose’s banter about the annoyance of getting asked for ID or not XDDD. Relatable.

I remember watching this episode for the first time and being very impressed by the way they had handled setup and payoff in this show, and honestly, I still am. Quick story writing lesson: setup and payoff refers to introducing a plot point/item/character etc. early in a way that doesn’t disturb the plot and immediately scream “hey this is is important—remember this!” in spite of it becoming important later. If done right, the audience will go “oh wait, it’s plot point/item/character X from that earlier scene/episode!” when they get to the important part. This show is excellent with setup and payoff. So many things that may seem like filler/fluff actually make sense later. Good job, writers!

I love how Unity was so worried Rose would just be like “you’re crazy, I’m leaving”, yet the first thing Rose does when finding out that she’s got a great-grandma is hug her. ;_;

Omg the serial killer get-together! I love how this starts out like a totally normal conversation, then they mention the Corinthian and you might think “okay, maybe they’re talking about a different Corinthian or maybe he is like… a super famous chess player or something whenever he’s not murdering people”… and then she pulls out the picture of an eyeless murder victim and calls it exquisite and your brain just screeches to a halt like “what the fuck did I just walk into?”

And I just realize where I remember Rose’s friend Carl from—he was the doppelgänger on The Witcher!

Jesus Christ, the Good Doctor. XDD She’s not crossing the line, she’s dancing back and forth over it.

Oh hey, the fates are back! This can only end in tears.

“Beware dreams and houses”--that’s gotta be the most useless advice ever lol.

Unity just casually dropping the “oh btw, our family is loaded” bomb XD.

Lmfao, Carl here just casually seducing a walking nightmare.

Oh, that’s a picture of the girl from two episodes ago! Judy, I think?

“Any unusual behavior.” - “Said the pumpkin to the talking bird.” Lmao, please don’t ever change, Matthew.

I swear to god, Hal looks exactly like one of my former co-workers. I had to look up his actor to make sure my ex-co-worker hadn’t gone to Hollywood.

Also, I adore Zelda and Chantal. Fun fact: there were exactly two sub culture groups for girls in my middle/high school (in Germany, we don’t separate those two)--you either went with the fake tan bitches, or the goth rock punks. The latter were infinitely more inclusive.

I genuinely do feel for both Rose and the foster care case worker in this scene. There’s only so much you’re allowed to do by law and it’s just an all around shitty situation for everyone.

That said, the moment she mentioned the money, I knew where this was going.

Gilbert is amazing. And so much of his demeanor makes sense once you know who he really is.

Oh great, the Corinthian has found his people. This cannot end badly for anyone, nope.

Rose just casually strolling into Dream’s throne room and you can tell from the look on his face that he’s going “aw damn, so much for her not being an active threat—I might actually really have to end up killing this girl”.

Yep, Jed’s foster father is a piece of shit. Now we know where those 800/month are going.

#The Sandman #episode 7 rewatch #kind of a live blog I guess

[chorusfm]

Charlotte Sands – Can We Start Over?

It’s a little hard to believe that Can We Start Over? is the debut album by Charlotte Sands. Why? For a myriad of reasons. Charlotte Sands has been on the tip of the tongue for several marquee artists like The Maine, Taking Back Sunday, and Sleeping With Sirens for lending her vocals in guest spots on their singles. Additionally, Sands has been self-releasing music since 2018, and with her electric charged debut finally arriving this year, this blue-haired warrior shows little signs of slowing down anytime soon. Coming off of the success of her last EP, called Good Now, Sands is poised for sustainable success by adding ten bulletproof songs on Can We Start Over? to her repertoire. Sands shared, “The inspiration behind the title can we start over? came while writing a song for the album about the idea of restarting a relationship, and the idea of beginning again or reintroducing yourself to someone. I’ve changed so much over the last few years personally and in my career and I love the concept of starting over as who I am now with the information and knowledge I’ve gained. It’s not about forgetting the past or regretting our choices but more so letting go of the previous version of ourselves and meeting each other where we are at this moment in the phases that we’re currently in. I think this album for me represents exactly that, standing firmly where I am as the person I am today.” By putting her strongest and best foot forward, Charlotte Sands is taking full advantage of her moment. The album kicks off brilliantly with “Use Me” that begins with vulnerable lyrics from Sands before exploding into a higher vocal register on the chorus. The high notes she hits here are simply breathtaking, and need to be heard to be believed. The instruments complement her vocal attack, rather than distract from the overall mix brought forth. “Pity” follows the rockin’ opener with a punk sneer to it, and finds Sands singing more confidently over a programmed beat in the first verse that slow-burns to another raucous chorus. What she does particularly well on songs like this is to never force her high notes, but instead she picks her spots to go for broke when a lyric needs a bit more emphasis behind it. ”Get Over It” starts off with a complex beat before paving way for Charlotte Sands’ ability to convey a wide range of emotions in her vocal attack. The mid-tempo song never sags under its deep lyrical weight, and instead Sands comes out of a better person. One of my favorite lyrics on the LP comes in the form of “Spite” when Sands admits on the chorus, “Fuck it, I’ll get famous out of spite.” It’s a brave admission from this young artist who is blossoming at just the right time in her musical career to live up to her words. The middle section of Can We Start Over? is a mixture of mid-tempo rockers like “Teeth,” that feature brilliant hooks in it to keep the listener engaged throughout the record, whereas “Blindspot” is a bouncy ballad about the pitfalls of a one-sided relationship. Things take a turn towards the more pissed off version of Charlotte Sands on the aggressive “Dead Body,” that has her admitting to she’d take her ex back “over my dead body.” The lyrical contrasts on songs like this showcase Sands impressive, and rapid artistic development. For an artist that became a marquee name through collaborative songs like “Loved You a Little,” it comes as no surprise that Sands would want to feature at least one collaboration on her debut album. “On The Outside” features a guest spot from Point North, and the vocal harmonies between Sands and Jon Lundin are top notch. By the time the listener reaches the final song, a haunting power ballad about wishing you had the ability to correct old mistakes, they are likely in awe of “Can We Start Over?” The slow-burning track features the best vocal performance I’ve heard from Sands to date, and if the answer to the question of Can We Start Over? is in reference to the album as a whole, I’d recommend hitting that… https://chorus.fm/reviews/charlotte-sands-can-we-start-over/

[cinema-tv-etc]

Music’s 30 Fiercest Feuds and Beefs

From classic-rock squabbles to hip-hop diss tracks and social media wars, here are the ridiculous, rancorous conflicts that have held us rapt. Rolling Stone - Jordan Runtagh

Creative differences, financial disputes, drug abuse, love triangles – in the music industry, the opportunities to butt heads are basically limitless. The bigger the star, the bigger the ego, and when two tangle, you get a supernova of spite and bile that holds the world in rapture, turning mature adults into spit-flecked children chanting “Fight, fight, fight!” in a circle at recess.

Many clashes are over in a flash, while others drag out for years and even decades. Some feuds are undoubtedly hilarious, birthing otherworldly insults like Liam Gallagher’s “Potato” and Mariah Carey’s beyond catty “I don’t know her,” both of which will live on until the end of the Internet. Others are tragic and have no possible upside as friendships, bands, families and even lives are destroyed in the process. Others still have inspired an entire sub-category of song that crosses all genre boundaries: the diss track. (See: “Bad Blood,” “Swish Swish,” about 25 percent of all rap songs.)                            

Read on for 30 of the most explosive beefs in music history. Pick a side, or simply spectate. No judgment.                            

John Lennon vs. Paul McCartney

The generation-defining duo kept their squabbles behind closed doors during the Beatles’ death throes in the late Sixties, but as McCartney made a move to legally dissolve the band’s partnership in December 1970, Lennon took the spat public in the pages of Rolling Stone. The conversation with magazine founder Jann Wenner touched on McCartney’s supposedly overbearing nature in the studio (“I pretty damn well know we got fed up of being sidemen for Paul,” he seethed), McCartney’s poor leadership following the death of the band’s manager Brian Epstein, and the other Beatles’ reaction to Lennon’s new relationship with Yoko Ono. “Ringo was all right, but the other two really gave it to us. I’ll never forgive them.”  

McCartney’s public response was more measured. On 1971’s Ram, he included a subtle jab at Lennon on the opening track, “Too Many People,” mocking the former Teddy Boy rebel’s sudden fervor for world-peace crusades with the line “Too many people preaching practices.” Elsewhere in the song he sings, “You took your lucky break and broke it in two,” which McCartney later admitted was also directed at his former bandmate.  

The line went over most people’s heads, but Lennon got the reference – and fired back with one obvious enough for everyone. Included on 1971’s Imagine is “How Do You Sleep?,” a diss track so positively nasty that it borders on obscene. In footage taken at the session, Lennon, Ono and guest guitarist George Harrison can be seen laughing as they swap lines like “The sound you make is Muzak to my ears/You must have learned something in all those years,” and a dig at his most famous song: “The only thing you done was ‘Yesterday.'” 

McCartney was reluctant to punch back. His major public response was the devastating “Dear Friend” from 1971’s Wild Life, in which he mournfully wonders whether this was “really the borderline” of their relationship. The delicate lament was an olive branch, though it would take some time to be accepted as such. Friendly calls from McCartney were met with Lennon’s suspicious “Yeah, yeah, whatdaya want.” His new American twang particularly grated McCartney, who once shot back, ‘Fuck off, Kojak!”   

Relations had improved enough by the mid Seventies for McCartney to occasionally drop by Lennon’s Upper West Side apartment at the Dakota building when business brought him to New York City. Together the old friends would reminisce and exchange thoughts on baking bread or their young children. Any hopes of a permanent reconciliation were ended by an assassin’s bullet on December 8th, 1980.                                    

Brian Wilson vs. Mike Love

Discord between the cousins had set in by the mid-Sixties when Wilson, the acting maestro behind the Beach Boys, sought to move the band beyond their fun-in-the-sun persona. Love found the new musical daring pretentious, and feared alienating the fans originally won over by their carefree surfing image.      

The stress was palpable during the 1966 sessions for Pet Sounds, Wilson’s most experimental work to date. Skeptical of augmenting their sound with a fleet of session musicians wielding exotic instruments, Love resented that Wilson took the majority of the lead vocals himself. It’s just as well, as he took issue with much of the album’s lyrical content. “Some of the words were so totally offensive to me that I wouldn’t even sing ’em because I thought it was too nauseating,” Love admitted to Goldmine in 1992. Exhibit A: a new tune Wilson presented with the LSD-drenched title “Hang Onto Your Ego.” Hardly a psychedelic warrior, Love put his foot down and refused to participate. The title was promptly changed to “I Know There’s an Answer.”                                    

The clashes continued when Wilson plunged into his next project, the ambitious “teenage Symphony to God” dubbed SMiLE. It was during this period that Love supposedly delivered his famous warning: “Don’t fuck with the formula!” The oft-quoted remark made its first appearance in a 1971 Rolling Stone profile, though Love dismissed it in his memoir as “the most famous thing I’ve ever said, even though I never said it.” Even so, Wilson later claimed that Love was “disgusted” by the project.                                    

  Wilson’s mental health struggles drove a wedge between the cousins, and their relationship was further strained by a series of courtroom battles. In the early Nineties Love filed a lawsuit claiming he wasn’t credited on many songs he had written with Wilson. A jury ruled in his favor, awarding Love a co-writer credit on 35 of the titles, including some of the band’s biggest hits. Several years later, the death of band mate Carl Wilson splintered the remaining group into several opposing camps, all of whom competed in legal arenas for the right to use the Beach Boys name. Love eventually won, and began leasing the name from the band’s label, Brother Records.

 As part of the Beach Boys’ 50th anniversary in 2012, the surviving members buried the hatchet long enough to record a new album and embark on a triumphant tour. It seemed like a long-awaited happy ending until it was revealed that Love would continue touring as the Beach Boys without the help of Wilson later that year. “The Beach Boys might get together again – but not with me,” Wilson told Rolling Stone’s Jason Fine mid-2017.                                    

Don Felder vs. Don Henley and Glenn Frey

The Eagles rarely had peaceful easy feelings within their ranks, but the most extreme schism widened during sessions for Hotel California in 1976. Felder expressed the desire to sing his composition “Victim of Love,” but his bandmates were less than pleased with his initial takes. “Don Felder, for all of his talents as a guitar player, was not a singer,” Frey said in the band’s authorized 2013 documentary, The History of the Eagles. Henley agreed, saying it “simply did not come up to band standards.” While Felder was at dinner with the group’s manager, Irving Azoff, the rest of the band wiped his vocals and rerecorded it with Henley. Felder never forgot the slight.                                    

The Eagles struggled to follow up the record-breaking success of Hotel California, and sessions for what would become The Long Run dragged on for 18 months. During this time, Felder found himself increasingly at odds with Henley and Frey, sarcastically dubbing them “the Gods.” The resentment reached critical mass on July 31st 1980, the night the band played a benefit concert for California Senator Alan Cranston at Long Beach Arena. Felder, who preferred to steer clear of political causes, was frustrated about having to go along with Henley and Frey’s wishes. When the Senator thanked each musician individually at a pre-show meet-and-greet, Felder replied with a curt: “You’re welcome, Senator … I guess.”                                    

Enraged, Frey laid into Felder as soon as the politician was out of sight, and the fight continued – on-mic – in the middle of the night’s performance. “We’re onstage, and Felder looks back at me and says, ‘Only three more songs till I kick your ass, pal.’ And I’m saying, ‘Great. I can’t wait,'” Frey later recalled. “We’re out there singing ‘Best of My Love,’ but inside both of us are thinking, ‘As soon as this is over, I’m gonna kill him.'”                                    

That was how the Eagles’ story ended until 1994, when they reconvened for Hell Freezes Over, an album, tour and MTV special. The project’s success kicked off a long stream of well-regarded blockbuster tours, but the tenuous peace was disrupted when Felder made waves about the bottom line. Though the band had split their revenue equally back in its Seventies heyday, he now complained that Henley and Frey insisted on a higher percentage for themselves. Henley and Frey didn’t take kindly to having their motives questioned, and fired Felder from the Eagles on February 6th, 2001.   

 The dismissal set off an avalanche of messy legal proceedings, beginning with Felder filing suits for wrongful termination, breach of contract and fiduciary duty. The lawsuits were eventually settled out of court for an undisclosed sum, but the wounds never healed. When Frey died in January 2016, Felder paid him a warm tribute in the Associated Press. “I had always hoped somewhere along the line, he and I would have dinner together, talking about old times and letting it go with a handshake and a hug.”                                    

Roger Waters vs. David Gilmour

Pink Floyd were divided during sessions for The Wall in 1979, as Gilmour, Nick Mason and Rick Wright grew frustrated by Waters’ unwillingness to compromise in the studio. “He forced his way to become that central figure,” Gilmour told Rolling Stone in 1987. Waters, for his part, claimed he was pushed into the role of creative taskmaster due to the diminishing input of his (to his mind) less talented bandmates. “There was no point in Gilmour, Mason or Wright trying to write lyrics,” he countered in Rolling Stone. “Because they’ll never be as good as mine. Gilmour’s lyrics are very third-rate.”                  

The global success of The Wall only widened the divisions. On the accompanying tour, Waters stayed at separate hotels, and rarely spoke with his bandmates offstage. As work began on a follow-up, 1983’s The Final Cut, a less-than-enthusiastic Gilmour feared that the album was padded with rejects from The Wall. The conflicts grew increasingly hostile, and Gilmour’s name was ultimately removed from the album’s production credits.                                    

When Waters decided to pursue solo endeavors in December 1985, he attempted to dissolve Pink Floyd in his wake, labeling it “a spent force creatively.” Gilmour disagreed, forging ahead with Wright and Mason to record a new album as Pink Floyd. An irate Waters took legal action to bar Gilmour and the rest of his former colleagues from using the band’s name – and the famed inflatable pig mascot during live performances.                                    

  Gilmour won the court battle but the war waged in the court of public opinion. The remaining Floyd members characterized their former bassist as a vindictive egomaniac, while Waters portrayed his Gilmour and Co. as coasting on the back of his genius. When the scaled-down Floyd released A Momentary Lapse of Reason in 1987, Waters dismissed it as “a very facile but quite clever forgery.”    

Pink Floyd remained largely dormant following the release of 1994’s The Division Bell, but tensions had eased enough by July 2005 for the band’s classic lineup to reunite for a set at the Live 8 global charity event. The reconciliation would prove to be the last time the foursome would perform before Wright’s death in 2008.                                    

Waters surprised fans in 2011 by bringing out Gilmour and Mason for a guest appearance on “Comfortably Numb” during a performance at London’s O2 arena, and by 2013 he even admitted that he regretted the lawsuit over the band’s name. But when Gilmour and Mason polished off some old demos for release as a new Floyd album, The Endless River, in 2014, Waters declined to participate.                                    

Ray Davies vs. Dave Davies

Before the Gallagher brothers, the world had the Davies as their prototypical Britpop sibling rivalry. “We were battlers,” reflected Ray. “But the very thing that makes a band special is what ultimately causes it to break up.” According to Dave, their differences stem from childhood. “I think Ray has been happy for only three years in his life. And those were the three years before I was born.”    One incident seems indicative of things to come. The boys had staged a mock boxing match, but the roughhousing turned serious when Ray collapsed in a heap after hitting his head on the side of the family’s piano. Dave bent down in concern to ask if Ray was ok; Ray immediately opened his eyes and socked him in the face. “It’s symbolic of our whole relationship, really,” Dave reflected.          

Once the two were bandmates, the fighting would take place practically anywhere: onstage, in the studio, in the back of a limousine. Even on major family occasions, they found it hard to play nice. When Ray tapped Dave to act as best man at his 1964 wedding, the younger brother got extremely drunk and announced that he was “too pissed” to give the speech. The Kinks performed together for the last time in 1996, shortly before Dave’s ill-fated 50th birthday party. “Ray had the money and I didn’t,” he recalled, “So he offered to throw it for me. Just as I was about to cut the cake, Ray jumped on the table and made a speech about how wonderful he was. He then stamped on the cake.” They would see very little of each other for many years.                            

Begrudging fraternal love united them in 2004 when Dave suffered a serious stroke. Ray invited Dave to stay at his home, but old jealousies returned. “I was ill in bed and could barely move, but he started saying: ‘I’m sick, I’m sick!’ He was screaming in pain from his stomach.” A medical examination revealed nothing out of the ordinary. “He just wanted attention,” opined Dave.                    

In 2013 they fought over the genesis of what might be the Kinks’ greatest legacy: the fuzzed-out overdrive guitar distortion heard on their 1964 breakthrough hit, “You Really Got Me.” Ray claims that he came up with the idea of slashing the speaker cone of Dave’s guitar amplifier to achieve the effect, while the guitarist claims he developed the technique himself. Dave accused Ray of propagating the myth in his West End musical Sunny Afternoon, based on the songs of the Kinks. “My brother is lying,” he wrote in a furious Facebook post. “I am just flabbergasted and shocked at the depth of his selfish desire to take credit for everything.”                                    

They were able to put their difference aside for long enough to appear together onstage in December 2015 to perform the song in question before an audience in London – their first live collaboration in nearly two decades.                              

Paul Simon vs. Art Garfunkel

The childhood friends first recorded together as teenagers in 1957, but as Garfunkel began to focus on his academic career, Simon quietly inked a solo side deal. Garfunkel took it as a serious betrayal when he learned of his musical partner’s extracurricular endeavors, and the incident would be a sore point in the decades to come.  After the two scored global fame in the mid-Sixties, long-held resentments made the union a ticking time bomb. The detonation occurred in late 1968 when director Mike Nichols offered them both roles in his adaptation of the book Catch-22. Simon’s character was cut before production began, so Garfunkel flew solo to shoot in Mexico. Initially Simon had been supportive of the outing, even penning “The Only Living Boy in New York” as a tender good luck for his old friend. But as the three-month film shoot stretched into nearly a year, Simon grew frustrated by the delay.     Garfunkel’s eventual return failed to repair relations, and the two clashed over differing musical ideas. Simon had written a song called “Cuba Si, Nixon No,” which he presented as a potential 12th track on what would become Bridge Over Troubled Water. Garfunkel, turned off by its overt political commentary, suggested doing a Haitian Creole chorale called “Feuilles-O.” Neither side would budge. The album was released with only 11 songs, and the pair decided to go their separate ways.                                    

It was during a professional nadir in 1981 that they agreed to reunite at a free concert in New York’s Central Park. The performance became of one of the biggest musical events in history, drawing an unparalleled 500,000 people to the Great Lawn. A world tour was planned for May 1982, but it wasn’t long before they fell into the same destructive patterns. Things weren’t any better in the studio as they worked on an all-new Simon & Garfunkel album to be called Think Too Much. In the end, Simon wiped Garfunkel’s vocal tracks and set about finishing the songs as a solo effort.                                    

Eyebrows were raised during their somewhat frosty Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction speech in 1990. Garfunkel started off sincere, saying, “I want to thank most of all the person who has most enriched my life by putting these great songs through me: My friend Paul here.” It should have been a touching moment of reconciliation, save for Simon’s parting joke. “Arthur and I agree about almost nothing,” he said. “But it’s true, I have enriched his life quite a bit, now that I think about it.”                                    

The men hit the road for high-profile reunion tours in 1993, 2003 and 2010, but it never stuck. The same unexplainable force that blends their voices together in celestial harmony also compels them to spend the majority of their time apart.

 Keith Richards vs. Elton John

“Lovely bloke,” Richards said of John in a 1988 Rolling Stone interview, “but posing.” The venomous dig was prompted by John’s recent single, “I Don’t Wanna Go On with You Like That,” but some wondered if Keef harbored a grudge against John for outstaying his welcome during a guest appearance – which stretched to 10 songs – at a 1975 Rolling Stones concert in Fort Collins, Colorado.                                    

Whatever the cause of the rift, Richards didn’t hold back when asked his thoughts on “Candle in the Wind 1997,” John’s musical elegy for friend Princess Diana. Though profits from the single were donated to charity, Richards said the rewrite of John’s 1973 tribute to Marilyn Monroe “did jar a bit” in an October 1997 interview with Entertainment Weekly. “Songs for Dead Blondes,” he pronounced. “I’d find it difficult to ride on the back of something like that myself, but Reg [John’s birth name] is showbiz.” He echoed the sentiment a short time later and took aim at John’s theatrical stage style. John fought back in an interview published by the Daily News that same month. “I’m glad I’ve given up drugs and alcohol. It would be awful to be like Keith Richards. He’s pathetic, poor thing. It’s like a monkey with arthritis, trying to go onstage and look young. I have great respect for the Stones but they would have been better if they had thrown Keith out 15 years ago. … I just think he’s an asshole and I have for a long time.” He also refuted the accusations of Vegas-level theatrics. “Please, if the Rolling Stones aren’t show business, then what is? You know, with their inflatable naked women.”    John went on the offensive in 2011 when he criticized Richards’ recent autobiography, Life, which featured some unflattering details about Jagger’s anatomy. “I was a bit put off by hearing about the bit about Mick Jagger’s penis,” he said. “If I said that [songwriting partner] Bernie Taupin was a miserable twat and had a small penis, he’d probably never talk to me again. It’s like, why do that?”                                  

Relations between the two rock icons thawed in September 2015, when fellow Stone Ronnie Wood was able to broker a truce long enough for Richards and John to pose for a photo at the GQ Awards in London.                                    

David Lee Roth vs. Eddie Van Halen

Tensions simmered during the 1983 sessions for 1984. David Lee Roth resented the decision to record at Eddie Van Halen’s newly constructed home studio, 5150, as he felt it gave the guitarist too much creative autonomy. Though Van Halen’s sole Number One, “Jump,” emerged from Eddie’s sonic laboratory, the singer remained unhappy; by 1985, he turned his attention to a solo EP, Crazy from the Heat, with the aim to star in a movie of the same name. “The band as you know it is over,” Eddie told Rolling Stone that August. “Dave left to be a movie star. He even had the balls to ask if I’d write the score for him.” (The movie never materialized.)                                    

Roth reconnected with the band in 1996 as they assembled a Greatest Hits album, and relations improved enough for the original lineup to reunite in the studio to record two new tracks for the compilation. Given that replacement singer Sammy Hagar had recently departed the group, fans viewed this as a dry run for a full-fledged reunion. But that all came to a halt when Van Halen, plus Roth, made a painful appearance at the MTV Video Music Awards. Trouble began when Roth went off script, trumpeting the importance of the original band members standing together. Eddie steered his one-time bandmate away from the microphone long enough for Beck to accept his Moonman for “Where It’s At,” but Roth vied for attention by dancing in the background with a demented grin.  

The annoyance of sharing a stage with Roth for even just a few minutes was enough to torpedo any hope of reconciliation. “His onstage antics were embarrassing and disrespectful to Beck,” Eddie later told MTV. Matters deteriorated further that night as Eddie denied reports of an upcoming reunion tour during a backstage press conference, citing his hip surgery scheduled later that year. “Tonight’s about me, man, and not your fucking hip,” Roth responded. A tour manager had to physically restrain Eddie, who spat back, “If you ever speak like that to me again you better be wearing a cup.'”                                    

It took more than a decade for tempers to cool, but in February 2007 the band unveiled plans for a long-awaited tour with Roth. They followed it up in February 2012 with A Different Kind of Truth, their first full-length album with Roth since 1984, but the accompanying tour didn’t go well. Several legs were postponed, or cancelled altogether. “The conflict was immediate and sustained from day one,” Roth said in an interview on The Opie & Anthony Show at the time. “Not a note of this symphony has changed.” More cracks in the uneasy alliance showed while promoting their 2015 North American tour, with Eddie slamming Roth in a Billboard interview. “He does not want to be my friend.”                                    

The “Roxanne” Wars

Lolita Shanté Gooden, a 14-year-old aspiring emcee, was walking through the Queensbridge housing project in 1984 when she overheard her neighbors, record producer Marley Marl and disc jockey Mr. Magic, complaining about the hip hop collective UTFO. The group had pulled out of an upcoming show they were promoting, leaving the two men in a lurch. Gooden offered to get back at the group by writing a diss track, and despite her tender age, the men agreed.

For a beat, they borrowed the instrumental track from UTFO’s “Roxanne, Roxanne,” the B side to their recent single “Hanging Out.” The original song told the tale of the band having their romantic advances cruelly rebuffed by a woman named Roxanne, so Gooden assumed the identity of the titular heartbreaker to record a less-than-flattering answer track. Dubbed “Roxanne’s Revenge,” the young rapper reportedly freestyled her obscenity-laden verse in just one take, done in Marl’s apartment. To complete the ruse, the song was released under the name Roxanne Shanté.   ��                                

It caught fire immediately, becoming a sizable radio hit and selling 5,000 copies almost overnight. The chastised UTFO did the only thing they could do – they shot back with a song of their own. Enlisting Elease Jack (later replaced by Adelaida Martinez), they created the character of “the Real Roxanne,” and together recorded a song of the same name. It wasn’t exactly an all-out verbal assault on Shanté – presumably going in on a teenage girl was frowned upon – but the challenge to her authenticity was just as effective.  

Given the chart success of the Roxanne songs, many rappers recognized an opportunity for some easy airplay and jumped into the fray. Over the coming year, more than 30 (and some say as many as 100) tracks were released, with MCs portraying all manner of Roxanne associates telling their sides of the story. Her relatives weighed in with tracks like “The Parents of Roxanne” by Gigolo Tony and Lacey Lace, “Yo, My Little Sister (Roxanne’s Brothers)” by Crush Groove, and “Rappin’ Roxy: Roxanne’s Sister” by D.W. and the Party Crew featuring Roxy. After exhausting her family tree, even her physician got some play on “Roxanne’s Doctor – The Real Man” by Dr. Freshh.  

 Roxanne fatigue eventually set in, as evidenced by the East Coast Crew’s trend-killing “The Final Word – No More Roxanne (Please),” but UTFO and Shanté had some unfinished business. The group swung first with “Roxanne, Roxanne, Pt. 2: Calling Her A Crab,” a downright dirty track, on which they called their rival an “ape” and offered her bananas to stop rapping. Shanté, meanwhile, asserted her status as rap feud royalty on “Queen of Rox.” From there, the inferno died away.                                      

Prince vs. Michael Jackson

Prince emerged onto the music scene with For You in 1978, one year before Jackson came into his own as a solo artist with Off the Wall, and for the next decade their musical paths would run on parallel tracks – never to intersect. The battle began when MJ upstaged 1999, Prince’s bestseller to date, with the industry-defining mega-smash Thriller in December 1982. Prince countered with Purple Rain, a triumph of sales and substance that caught even Jackson’s attention. When the Purple One came through Los Angeles with his Purple Rain tour, Jackson reportedly attended multiple nights, studying his competition.          Even friendly games could turn heated. When both men shared a studio, the competition bubbled over onto the Ping-Pong table. Prince ultimately emerged victorious when Jackson fumbled his paddle trying to ward off a spiked ball. “Did you see that?” Prince supposedly crowed as Jackson slunk away. “He played like Helen Keller!” Longtime Revolution drummer Bobby Z maintained that the athletic challenges continued for quite some time. “They’d shoot hoops at Paisley Park,” he recalled in the Minneapolis Star Tribune. “Prince had a deep-seated competitive nature, so it’s easy to see where he would measure himself against Jackson’s success.”                                    

 Accustomed to his regal role in the pop pecking order, Jackson was reportedly miffed with Prince declined to participate in his all-star charity recording “We Are the World” in 1985. Prince also turned down the chance to duet with Jackson on the title track to 1987’s Bad, the follow-up to Thriller, and even to appear alongside him in the song’s video. “That Wesley Snipes character? That would have been me,” Prince admitted in a 1997 interview with Chris Rock on MTV.     

Mutual friend Will.i.am attempted to broker peace in 2006 when he invited Jackson to watch him perform with Prince in Las Vegas. Things were going great until Prince decided to venture into the audience and play an aggressive slap-bass solo right in Jackson’s face. The hostile low end did not go over well, and Jackson made a point of mentioning it to Will.i.am the next morning. “I go to his house for breakfast, knock on the door, first words he says: ‘Why was Prince playing the bass in my face? Prince, he’s always been a meanie.'”                      

Mariah Carey vs. Whitney Houston

In the pre-Bodyguard Nineties, Whitney Houston seemed in danger of losing the octave-scaling R&B diva mantle to a young upstart named Mariah Carey. Barely in her twenties, Carey’s self-titled 1990 debut had sold 15 million copies worldwide, 5 million more than Houston’s (still absurdly high-selling) I’m Your Baby Tonight. Tabloids were quick to pit the pair against one another, but their feud was largely all smoke and no fire until Houston was asked about her supposed rivalry during a 1990 television interview – delivering the immortal: “What do I think of her? I don’t think of her.” The studio audience got the hint and hooted with Jerry Springer–level abandon. Houston’s halfhearted backpedaling (“Musically, I think she’s a good singer.”) did little to calm the crowd.                    

Houston served up an equally chilly response in 1995, when her own “Exhale (Shoop Shoop)” got booted from the top of the charts by “One Sweet Day,” Carey’s ballad with Boyz II Men. When MTV dared to put the “What do you think of Mimi” question to her again, she answered with the delightfully obtuse, “Maybe it’s not what I think; it’s what she thinks. It’s more important.”                    

  Producers of the 1998 animated biblical epic The Prince of Egypt booked Carey and Houston to duet on “When You Believe” for the soundtrack, leading to a string of public goodwill gestures between the two. They put in an appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show to deny that any beef existed between them, dismissing it all as “dramatics.”                                    

  They even poked fun at their rocky past while presenting Best Male Video at the 1998 MTV Video Music Awards, strutting to the podium in identical, but supposedly “one of a kind” dresses. The staged fashion faux pas provoked a comical catfight, until they stripped down to reveal different dresses and embraced in a warm hug.                                    

Following Houston’s death in February 2012, Carey was among the mourners at the star-studded service held in the late icon’s hometown of Newark, New Jersey. “I’m almost incapable to be talking about this still,” she said during an appearance on Good Morning America in the days that followed. “I don’t think people could ever really understand our relationship. There was always this supposed rivalry in the beginning and then we did the duet and became friends … I loved her.”                                    

Music’s 30 Fiercest Feuds and Beefs

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/music-s-30-fiercest-feuds-and-beefs?utm_source=pocket-newtab

#Feuds and Beefs #Music

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Attack Helicopter

Sex (part of person) is biological. It’s also complicated and the binary view of it would be a lot more useful if it were commonly understood like basic math and basic science and basic programming; Good enough a lot of the time but everyone knows it’s not really accurate; that we’re telling you the not-quite-accurate thing instead of going on a 10-hour tangent because we want to be getting you into the heart of the discussion more quickly.

Gender is social/performative and utterly mutable. Time was, pink was the guy color. Wigs were the guy thing. The reason pink-as-guy-color is the well everyone goes back to is the fact that it swapped so directly.

This means male (sex) is comparatively stable as a definition - a series of physical characteristics, perhaps with carve-outs for animals that have biologies substantially different from our own - but male (gender) is a fucking free-for-all. It doesn’t mean the same thing today it did last month. The definition of manliness can shift as a certain soft-spoken man rises to prominence. Maybe it gains or loses toxicity as media outlets lionize or demonize gross behaviors in famous men. The real takeaway should be that “gender” is just a box with a bunch of ideas in it. Unlike a real “definition” that box gets opened and those ideas get jumbled all the time. This makes it silly to treat “gender” as a more important descriptor for yourself than a lot of the others. Should I really spend time trying to be an exemplar of manliness when the goalposts for that idea aren’t just moving away from me but sometimes across the field, or behind the opposite team’s goal, or up into the stands? It’s worth trying to be “a good man;” That’s a matter of ethics and if it turns out I’m not considered manly in doing it later I’ll still know I’ve been a good person. But “an extra manly man?” Nah bruh. I’d rather be me and other people can waste time trying to draw boxes around that after the fact, if they want.

The asshats who tried to declare examination of one’s gender along a spectrum silly and that the whole self-determined gender idea was going to far, by claiming “attack helicopter” as their gender? They were stupid, wrong, and motivated by spite, but they did hit on something of value even if their example wasn’t the best. Anything with a series of commonly understood traits that can be assigned behavioral significance can be declared as a gender, if a gender is just a box of adjectives for how a person is. If everyone is their own gender, and the important thing is communicating to the people around you what your lived gender experience is, then calling your gender “trash panda” or “ancient thing in the woods” or “twelve cups of coffee” is valid, and if Pixar releases a movie about an anthropomorphized attack helicopter and it has a quirky and memorable personality, then “attack helicopter” will become a valid gender descriptor as well. The problem with “attack helicopter” as a gender at present is just that attack helicopters don’t have behaviors people identify as social.

#gender

[tteokdoroki]

hello Idk what this is but i love him so <3 ( based on this post )

“you don’t even like green tea, why’re ya drinkin’ that shit?”

the mug in your hand as you sink back into the comforter no longer spread neatly into all four corners of katsuki’s bed. you miss the warmth of the beverage against your palms, contrasting with the spiteful weather outside, but not the scent of the drink itself— resisting the urge to turn your nose up at it as it’s taken away from you.

you succeed, leaning back into bakugou’s chest as a replacement for the heat you’ve lost. “i do like it,” you protest and smile, since you’ve come to discover over the course of last night and the early mornings you sometimes spend together, that the blonde hero is practically a furnace in the making. you’re not complaining though, you have his amazing genetics and quirk to thank. “i just don’t like that brand!”

“bullshit,” katsuki grunts, the curse on your tongue surprising you— it’s still taking some getting used to the way he curses even if it’s six in the morning, which is also difficult to adjust to. who wakes up before the sun even rises? “you hate green tea, y’think it tastes like dirt even though you drink coffee. which, by the way, is fuckin’ bad for you. no wonder why your sleep schedule’s so fucked up.”

you’re easily flustered, bakugou’s acquired this knowledge quickly and he uses it to his full advantage. loving the way your nose crinkles and your eyes dart everywhere but his as he adjusts his position so that his head is propped up on one elbow and you’re the only one sitting up. “e-exactly! coffee is bad and that’s why i stopped drinking it.” you defend yourself with a pout, finally looking at the man who’s bed you’re in, his red eyes warm and staring at you with admiration. affection. “i’m trying to cut down on my caffeine.”

he’s quiet for a second before he says. “but you love your coffee.”

“yeah, so?” you frown, siddling down to bakugou’s level in the sheets.

“you don’t have to pretend you like shit, or stop liking shit for me yanno, i like you just the way you are.” he tells you simply, watching as you fight the surprise in your face since you know you’ve been caught in the act. navigating your new relationship with bakugou is different, unlike any other experience you’ve had before— he’s famous and you’re not, he’s got goals and he’s put together and you’re confused and muddled and— you wonder why he even likes you.

why he calls you first thing in the morning and texts last thing at night, why he begs you to come over some days and cuddles you until you it’s too late for you to go home and you end up staying the night— waking up to his perfect, vermillion eyes and sleepy voice and pretty face the morning after. all of this is so new to you and you’re having trouble figuring out how and why you deserve it.

“but I—“

“shut up,” bakugou grumbles as he pulls you into him, your face tucked into his neck and his own buried into your hair. “i’ll get you your stupid coffee, tell me what brand you like so we can keep some at my place for when you come over.” he’s like a baby, a big one— pouting as he wraps himself around you fully until even your ankles are locked together under his comforter. “i like you, stupid, even if we have our differences, they’re what made me fall for you.”

there’s a beat of silence, nothing but the pitter patter of rain against the glass panes and the wind to accompanying it echoing between you. you feel small in katsuki’s embrace, you feel safe and, even though he hasn’t said it yet, you feel loved. “I’ve fallen for you too, katsuki,” you squeak out quietly, since know how hard it is for him to say those words and the fact that he tried has you giddy with butterflies in your tummy. “thank you,”

“whatever,” his words are soft as his lips brush against your hair line, his pretty blonde eyelashes fluttering against your forehead. “just...keep comin’ over and stop wasting my green tea. okay?”

“okay,” you smile. “no more green tea.”

#tteokdoroki #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugou scenario #bakugou x reader #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #🗑. aali’s chatroom

[wazzupmrstark]

instead of you [part sixteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

word count: 3.1k

series masterlist

smut warnings: female masturbation, porn, mentions of choking

“‘We’? Like, you and me?” you clarified, hoping you had misunderstood.

“Yeah, it’ll only take a second,” Tom assured you.

You looked to Sam for help, but he looked just as lost as you were. “I’ll go try and find a microwave to heat up your leftovers,” he offered and took the container back from you. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

“Okay...”

You watched him shrug past both you and Tom and then disappear into the hallway with a sinking feeling in your chest, knowing he trusted you completely. He had no reason not to, and that’s what consumed you. 

“What do you want?” you muttered, reluctantly stepping to the side to let Tom in. 

He didn’t answer right away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. His eyes followed you around the room as you found your pants and tugged them on. He averted his gaze when he realized you were getting dressed mumbling a “sorry” as he trained his eyes on the carpet. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain why he was there. 

“You weren’t there today,” was all he said. 

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“Was it because of me?”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

Tom’s tongue poked at the inside of his cheek. “Is that all?”

“I had a lot to drink last night,” you reminded him. 

“So you don’t remember anything?”

“I never said that.”

“So it was because of me?”

“I never said that either.” You sighed. “If you’re here to ask me if I told him you kissed me, I didn’t. And you could’ve just texted me to ask.”

“No that’s not why- I don’t have your number anyway.”

“I’m in the trip group chat with your family.”

“Oh, right. I’ll save it to my contacts.”

The tension in the room was palpable. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out and replaced with thick, suffocating silence. Arbitrarily, you wondered who the most famous person in his phone was. He was a Marvel actor, he probably had Simu Liu’s number, right? Who would your contact information be sitting in between? Maybe if you ever forgave him for what he did you could ask him. 

“Is something funny?” The firmness of Tom’s voice cut through your train of thought and brought you back to the present. “Why are you smiling?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said despondently. “Sam’s gonna be back soon. What did you want?”

“I just wanted to check up on you. Sam said you were sick.”

“Oh, so you wanted to see if I was lying?”

“No! God, why is it so hard to believe that I’m genuinely concerned about you?”

“Because last night you only seemed concerned about yourself.”

Tom pursed his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, expelling a breath harshly. “Okay, I deserved that.”

You hummed in agreement, and let your eyes trail down the veins of his arms to where they disappeared into his pockets. It looked like he was fiddling with a coin or something small, but you couldn’t tell. 

“Are you feeling better?” he said the last part through gritted teeth.

“Yes, thank you. This chat has helped considerably.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Well, lucky for you I’m not your problem to deal with. I'm Sam’s.”

He flexed his hand in his pocket and sighed. “Okay, well, I also wanted to apologize again for...” the word kiss seemed to die on his lips, poetic irony at its finest. “Being a dick.” Less poetic. 

He finally fished his hand out of his pocket, holding a delicate piece of paper between his pointer and index fingers. He shifted uncomfortably where he was leaning against the dresser. “We went to the Academic Gallery today. I saw this in the gift shop and thought of you.” He presented you with what turned out to be a postcard, creased down the middle unevenly and smudged with pen ink.

You turned it over to look at the front first, admiring the artwork printed on it. It was a picture of Michelangelo’s David drawn in swoopy black lines and filled in with watercolor paint. Instead of a museum, the statue was in the middle of a garden, the centerpiece among dozens upon dozens of flowers. 

 “Sorry it’s folded,” he mumbled. “It wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”

You flipped it over to read the back only to see iou scribbled in his handwriting and nothing else. You turned it over again to see if you had missed something on the front, but there was nothing.

You looked up at him in confusion. “Iou?” 

“Yeah, you know... I feel really bad about last night, and I don’t really know how to make it up to you so I’m letting you decide.”

“That’s not really how it works.”

“I think that this counts as an exception, since we’re kind of in uncharted territory.”

“Maybe for you. My boyfriend’s brothers make out with me all the time.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t make out with you- it was barely a peck.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It was more than a peck.”

His cheeks were beginning to grow pink with what you couldn’t tell was either embarrassment or frustration. He cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject. “Anyway, if you ever need a favor or anything, just let me know. Think of it as me owing you one.”

“And do I have to give back the postcard when I cash in this ‘favor’?” you asked.

“No, you can keep it.”

“Good, because I was going to keep it anyway.”

He chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head. “Knew you’d like it.”

You flattened the card on your lap, smiling as you tried to iron out the little crease with your fingers. 

“It’s pretty, thank you.”

Tom nodded in acknowledgement and straightened his posture. “I should get going. I just wanted to give you that, and see how you were doing since tomorrow’s a travel day and I know you get a little motion sick sometimes. I didn’t want... whatever you’d come down with to make it worse.”

How did he know that? Had Sam told him? You didn’t have time to ask because he was already walking towards the door. He paused when he reached it and turned his head towards you, hand already on the knob. 

“Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Tom.”

  He opened the door and let himself out into the hallway, catching it suddenly on his foot as he saw Sam coming off the elevator. Tom held the door for Sam, since his hands were full, and then said goodnight to his brother as he finally left.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the microwave,” he explained. “I had to ask the night manager and they heated it up in the break room for me.”

“Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve eaten it cold.”

“I know you would have, and that’s why I’m not letting you.” You gave him a look, which he ignored and handed you the container of food. “It’s carbonara, it’s one of the things Rome is known for. I couldn’t have you eating it lukewarm.” 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a seat next to you on the edge of the bed, pulling the ottoman closer to use it as a makeshift table. He watched as you tried the first bite, gauging your reaction. It was something he did whenever he cooked for you, especially if he was trying out a new recipe. He always needed your approval, and valued it above anybody else’s. But he hadn’t even made this, and as his eyes searched your face you found yourself wondering if they were looking for something else. 

“Do you like it?” 

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Your paranoia was starting to get the better of you. “It’s delicious,” you assured him. “I’m sad I missed dinner.”

“I’m sad you missed the whole day. Spending time with my family without you was hell.”

“Oh come on, it’s probably good that you got some real family time.”

“It’s real family time when you’re there. It felt like something was missing.” 

You let a small smile slip past your lips despite the guilt that bubbled under the surface. You pushed it down and took another bite of the carbonara. 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you? It can’t have all been bad. Tell me about the good stuff. I wanna hear that.”

Sam nodded and pushed his curls back again, grinning like he’d been caught. “Fine, maybe there were some okay moments.”

“And what were they?”

“We went to the Accademia Gallery today. I think you would have really liked it. They had a whole wing of instruments from some of the most famous inventors and musicians from history. They even had pianos from Bartolomeo Cristorfori, the inventor of the piano.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “I bet it was beautiful.”

“Of course if it was played, it wouldn’t sound anything like the piano we’re used to hearing today, but I’m sure it would still sound incredible.”

“Even if it hasn’t been tuned in a few hundred years?”

It was his turn to give you a look. “Yes, of course.”

“Sorry.”

“And they had a Strativerius, I don’t even want to know how valuable that thing is. It must cost millions. I took some pictures for you, but I know they won’t compare to the real thing. The lighting in museums never does the art justice.”

He handed his phone to you to scroll through. You swiped the photos, smiling whenever you came across a selfie he’d taken with a statue or painting. You reached the pictures of David and couldn’t help but zoom in on-

“Hey!” Sam yelped and grabbed his phone back from your hands.

“What!”

“Michelangelo would be so ashamed of you! I bet he’s rolling in his grave right now.”

“No way! If anyone appreciated good dick, it was Michelangelo.” 

“Unbelievable.” 

“If you don’t want me to judge these statue’s penises, don’t take pictures of them.”

“I didn’t take pictures of their penises! I took pictures of the whole statue- you’re zooming in on- you know what, nevermind. Arguing with you about this is pointless.”

“Smart boy.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you and put his phone in his back pocket. “Oh yeah, did Tom give you that postcard?”

“He told you about that?” you asked, suddenly panicking. Sam hadn’t said anything about last night so far, but maybe Tom had-

“Yeah, said he wanted to give you an iou for the limoncello last night.”

“What?”

“He said you paid the tab for it since he left his wallet in the room and that he wanted to pay you back for it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Another lie. You had very much not paid for the drinks last night. Tom had. And you knew he had to make an excuse for why he was buying his brother’s girlfriend something from the gift shop, but to add another lie to the ever-growing list made your throat burn with regret. You wouldn’t be able to keep the secret forever, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down around you. 

-

In the morning you took the train from Rome to Naples, and then took a taxi to Sorrento to spend the last bit of your week in Italy by the sea. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than it had been in the busy cities of Rome and Florence. Even though there were still hordes of tourists, they were far more dispersed and less overbearing than you expected. The whole town seemed slowed down, like it had escaped the chokehold of time. 

Sam’s parents took everyone out to lunch by the water and went over the schedule for the next day and a half. 

“So, you’re on your own after dinner tonight, and then tomorrow morning we’re going to take the ferry to Capri for the day before our flight that night,” Nikki explained as she read through the spreadsheet on her phone. 

“There’s an Irish pub down the street from our hotel,” Harry said. “Do you guys want to go after we eat tonight?”

“I’m down,” Sam agreed. 

“Sounds good,” Tom chimed in.

The boys all looked at you for your answer, but you hesitated. Thinking about what happened the last time you drank didn’t make you eager to do it again, and you were already exhausted from travelling.

“I’ll pass.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m tired, and I’d rather go somewhere Italian... since we’re in Italy.”

Harry shrugged. “Your loss.”

“We’ll have a shot in your honor, babe,” Sam said and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Please don’t. Something tells me you’ll have plenty to drink without an extra shot for me.”

“You know us so well.”

After dinner, you walked back to the hotel with the Hollands and said good night to Sam’s parents before parting ways to your separate rooms. Sam went with you to change into clothes for going out while you changed into pajamas. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

You nodded from where you were on the bed and yawned. Sam didn’t push any further, instead resolving to finish getting ready in silence. He paired his black jeans with a pair of converse and a dark green button up over a black t-shirt. 

He turned to you for approval.

“Fake girlfriend approved?”

“Fake girlfriend approved,” you repeated and gave him a thumbs up. 

“Okay, well I’m headed out,” he announced. 

“Have fun! Don’t kiss any cute girls without me!” 

It was something you always said to each other, but it sounded strange since it was supposed to be coming from his girlfriend. Sam just chuckled and blew you a kiss as he let himself out. 

You heard him greet his brothers outside and then listened to their footsteps fade into the distance before pulling up an incognito window on your phone. It had been weeks since you’d been able to get off and it was killing you. The amount of stress this trip had given you only made it worse. You were wound so tight that you were sure you’d snap soon if you didn’t get some relief. 

And you thought that maybe if you rubbed one out it might help you forget about... the confusing feelings you had for your best friend’s brother. 

Seeing as you had the night to yourself, you figured you might as well take advantage of it. You copied a link from your notes app and pasted the url into the address bar. You didn’t feel like digging through your luggage to find your earbuds so you set the volume low enough for only you to hear. 

The video started playing and you let your hand wander from your side up to your neck, brushing your hand lightly across your collarbone. You traced the curve of your breasts with a finger before squeezing one of them gently, feeling your nipple harden under your palm. You only had one hand to use since the other was holding your phone, but you made do. 

The video was one of your favorites, one you found yourself watching at least once a week. It was one of the few videos of hetero couples you had favorited, and it started with the guy going down on the girl before fucking her...

You admired the muscles on the man’s back, watching intently as they flexed whenever he moved his head. The woman moaned, struggling to keep her legs open while he brought her closer and closer to orgasm. 

You let your hand travel down further until it was sitting at the waistband of your pajama shorts. You knew you had a while before Sam would be back, but you were too impatient to wait. You propped your phone up on a pillow next to you to free your other hand as you started to play with your clit. 

You pictured someone’s head in between your thighs, imagining them moaning against your pussy as they tasted you for the first time. 

The man was taking his pants off now and lining himself up with his partner’s pussy. You tried to follow along, putting yourself in the moment with the couple. You gathered your own wetness on two of your fingers to lubricate them and slid them inside yourself, sighing in relief. Your entire body tensed as it accommodated to the stretch and you gave yourself a few beats before moving your fingers. 

When you finally did, you felt yourself relax and sped up your pace so that it matched the actors on screen.

The angle the video was shot at hid the man’s face and you found yourself wondering what he looked like. If you squinted you could almost picture Tom- no. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, but it was already there. 

Closing your eyes didn’t help either. You just imagined Tom’s fingers sliding in and out of you instead of your own, imagined the veins on his arms becoming more pronounced as he tightened his grip on your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, knowing you should stop. 

You were too close to stop now, and the pleasure was clouding your judgement. Suddenly the man brought his hand up to the girl’s throat and began to choke her, sending her hurtling into her own orgasm. You moaned accidentally, thinking about Tom’s hand around your throat. You curled your fingers up so that you were hitting your g-spot and whimpered pathetically.

This was wrong. This was bad. Not only were you fantasizing about your best friend’s brother, but you were confusing yourself even further. 

You tried to fight it, at least that’s what you told yourself, but all you could hear were Tom’s moans echoing through the speaker. You pictured the way he’d look on top of you. His eyes would be so dark and he’d be smirking like the cocky asshole he was, chain hanging down in your face- just inviting you to take it into your mouth. It didn’t take long before you felt your orgasm begin to build. The video was still playing in the background, the man still chasing his own high and bringing his partner to her second orgasm, but you’d tuned it out by now. You came around your fingers thinking about Tom’s hips snapping into yours. 

You were fucked.

lmk what you think!! i always appreciate feedback

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland series #tom holland smut

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.3) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART THREE

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: A little Iwa and Hoisuke sketch to accompany this chappie ❤ Thank you for all the love and support. My inbox has boomed since I last posted and I’m so grateful that it is being appreciated by y’all :,) <3 

ON TO PART THREE! Let me know what you guys think of this part :) xx

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART 

------

"Miss Y/N! You came!"

Hoisuke has a beam on his face the moment you step into the Iwaizumi household. That slightly calms your jittery nerves as you remove your shoes and step in, balancing the container of cookies in your hand.

"Hi Hoisuke," you greet back with a smile, "I brought your favourite cookies."

"Really?!"

"Really," you hand him the container with a grin, relishing as he oohs and aahs as he gets a whiff of the said baked treats. He beams up at you, "thanks miss Y/N. You're so cool."

"Not as cool as you are," you ruffle his hair and he giggles, before grabbing onto your hand and tugging you inside, "come, Daddy's warming up the pizza."

To be honest, part of you had combusted when you'd read over Iwaizumi's message repeatedly to make sure you weren't reading it wrong. The other part of you was screaming that this was definitely out of bounds and plus, could you consider this to be a sort of date?

No, of course not. Definitely not. He'd invited you over as a friend. And because Hoisuke liked you.

When you put it like that, it stung a little.

As Hoisuke drags you into the living space, you spot Iwaizumi grabbing for beers in the fridge and he nods at you, "hey."

"Hi," you reply, feeling a bit shy.

"The pizzas just got here," he says, chin jerking towards the pizza boxes already set upon the coffee table, surrounded by four plates, "a friend of mine is joining. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no, not at all."

"Uncle Tooru! He's the best volleyball setter ever!" Hoisuke adds with a clap of his hands, eyes sparkling with excitement, "do you play volleyball miss Y/N?"

"Nope," you singsong, "I can't even catch a ball."

"But you always tell us to do well in PE."

"Do what I tell you and not--"

"Not what you do," Hoisuke sings along and you can't help but laugh before ruffling his hair fondly, "at least I know you're listening in class!"

"I always listen to you, miss Y/N."

"Unlike his father," Iwaizumi points out while walking over to the pair of you and handing you a beer can, "whom he never listens to."

"But you don't listen to me, daddy."

"Wha--yeah I do."

"Noooo uncle Tooru had to beg you to invite miss Y/N over when I told you a hundred times!"

You burst out into a fit of laughter just as Iwaizumi hollers out, "wha--No! That's--"

"Uncle Tooru said that you should man up and invite her otherwise he'll do it himself," his son chatters on, oblivious to the redness rising in his father's ears, "what does man up mean, miss Y/N?"

"Okay that's enough babbling," Iwaizumi's hand shoots out to press down onto Hoisuke's head. He nudges it towards the couch, "bring miss Y/N to the living room. Scoot."

"But--"

"Now." His father scowls. His son scowls back and you try to shove down the round of laughter bubbling up your throat, for they look like the spitting image of each other and they probably don't even know it.

You reach out, tugging Hoisuke by the shoulder, "come on then. What movie are we watching?"

It makes you slightly giddy on the inside to hear such words fall from Hoisuke's mouth. If there's one thing you've learnt from being around children is that they never lie. That, coupled with the way Iwaizumi's face has reddened a deep shade of tomato, is enough to cause a small tingling in your chest.

Since Oikawa is goig to be late, the three of you decide on watching Harry Potter -- Hoisuke's current obsession at the moment -- while munching on too-greasy pizza and washing it down with beer, coke for the minors. It's been a while since you've watched the series, thus finding yourself cheering and hollering along with Hoisuke which feels like you're seeing it for the first time all over again.

Multiple times, Hoisuke would turn and beam up at you, sometimes hugging your right arm and burying his face into your shoulder during action-packed scenes. You'd be lying to say you don't enjoy his warmth sticking to your side, sniffing the soft baby scent of his hair that still clings to him. The smell of childhood filled with innocence and maybe out of impulse, you pull him a little closer.

You're so immersed in the moment to notice the pair of coffee-coloured eyes are gazing at you with growing tenderness.

"Hellooo! Cool and Handsome Uncle Tooru is here!"

You jump at the sudden intruder's voice booming through the apartment, followed by Iwaizumi's scoff upon meeting your eyes. Hoisuke bounds up without delay, rushing to the door while crying out, "uncle Tooru!"

"Hi my beautiful boy!" Oikawa does not hesitate to sweep him up into his arms, kissing his cheek in affection and causing the child to giggle, "how's my favourite person doing? Has iwa-chan been treating you well?"

Hoisuke nods jovially, giggling some more when Oikawa pinches his cheek, "alright alright. You look dashing--oh, Iwa-chan! And this must be the famous Miss Y/N you've both been telling me about?"

You pink at his words but it doesn't faze Hoisuke in the least, "yeah! Isn't she pretty? She's the best teacher ever and her cookies are amazing!"

"H--Hi," you nod at Oikawa shyly, quickly avoiding his gaze to stop yourself from combusting with embarrassment. You've forgotten how beautiful this man actually is even though his reputation preceded him.

"Ahh it's nice to meet you Y/N," he flashes you a sweet smile, causing you to flush right down to your toes while you manage to stutter, "n--nice to meet you too, Oikawa-san."

"I see why Hoisuke and Iwa-chan like you," Oikawa turns to wink at Iwaizumi, "I approve!"

"Shut up Shittykawa," Iwaizumi scowls.

Oikawa gasps mockingly while covering Hoisuke's ears, "Iwa-chan! Not in front of the child and the lady!"

"I said fuck off--"

Oikawa's quick to slap his shoulder, hollering, "no swearing either! Oh gosh, excuse him Y/N. He gets very flamboyant whenever I'm around. If ever he does swear at you, it's just a matter of showing his affection."

You let out a laugh, spurred on by how red Iwaizumi's ears are, "I'll keep that in mind. I didn't know Hoisuke's dad was such a potty mouth," you say, narrowing your eyes playfully at the said man who scowls in return.

"Only when Oikawa's around," he states, crossing his arms over his chest with an expression that mimics his son's sulking.

"What's a potty mouth?" Hoisuke asks as he and Oikawa take their respective seats, the latter swiping a slice of pizza out of Iwaizumi's plate, who growls and kicks at his shin in turn.

The handsome man groans while you turn to Hoisuke, "potty mouth means someone who swears a lot."

"Like daddy?"

"Uhm--" you stutter, his response causing Oikawa to burst out laughing, "yes! What a bright little mind! Totally like your Uncle Tooru!"

Before Iwaizumi can bash Oikawa's head in, you hurriedly resume the movie with the excuse that the best part hasn't come up yet. That simmers down the atmosphere a little, all eyes now captivated by Harry Potter and his friends fighting against the ogre. Hoisuke gasps, nails digging into your arm as he latches on for dear life, all actions not going unnoticed by the pair of men.

"I like her," Oikawa mouths out to Iwaizumi, whose scowl deepens tenfold.

As per what the rumours stated, Oikawa is fun and easy-going to hang out with, a complete stark contrast to his best friend. You understand why people tend to gravitate towards him the more the evening wears on. It’s not just the fact that he puts you at ease and is naturally adept at making conversation, but it’s in the genuine spark of interest in his eyes, a look that says that he’s listening to you even if that might be faked on his part. It’s that expression stating that he cares, that makes you realize why Oikawa Tooru had been such a hotshot back in your high school days. 

So why do your eyes still manage to find their way to the brooding figure on the other side of the couch, who is filled with nothing but spiteful comments and sarcastic responses? 

Oikawa's little 'pssst' snaps your attention back to the present to find the sais man pointing at Hoisuke while mouthing "he's asleep." Indeed, your eyes travel down to Hoisuke's tiny figure slumped against your side and your mouth curves up in an affectionate smile.

You're about to shift him into your arms but Oikawa beats you to it, deftly slipping the boy into his arms and glancing between you and Iwaizumi with that same knowing smile that sets you on edge, "I'll tuck him to bed. Iwa-chan, buy me snacks would you?"

"Hell no--" Iwaizumi starts protesting only for Oikawa to walk out of the room, whistling softly without waiting for an answer. You sigh silently, pressing your lips together and glancing at Iwaizumi from the corner of your eye.

He averts his gaze, but not quickly enough, grunting softly, " wanna go?"

"To the convenience store?"

He nods, already moving to grab his jacket by the door as you scramble to join him while trying not to act so desperate to spend just a little more time with him.

The evening is colder than you'd expect, a mixture of wind and rain that makes him curse slightly while you hurriedly open up your umbrella the moment you step into the street. He nods, mutters a 'thanks' and guides you down the pavement where you jostle your way through evening strollers.

Quite surprised by the amount of movement on the street, you catch yourself asking, "is your neighbourhood always that busy?"

"I think there's a fancy fair around the corner," Iwaizumi sidesteps a man as he speaks, his shoulder brushing yours and sending warmth all the way down to your toes, "give me that."

Without warning, his hand engulfs yours holding the umbrella up and jumping at the contact, you quickly retract your hand, "thanks," you murmur, glad that the dark conceals the red splotches dotting your cheeks.

Your mind races to find something --anything -- to get you out of this awkward predicament. You'd die if he finds out how fast your heart is beating, "so uhm--Oikawa-san seems nice. You still keep in touch with him frequently then?"

"More like I can't get rid of his annoying ass," Iwaizumi mutters.

You chuckle, causing his eyebrow to quirk up, "what's so funny?"

"I'm just wondering whether Hoisuke will turn out like you when he grows up," you can't help but grin up at him, "you have a talent for dissing people."

"Only the ones worthy of my attention."

"Am I not worthy of your attention?" You tease.

He scowls down at you, "you're Hoisuke's teacher, that complicates things."

"In what way?" A passerby suddenly nudges against you and you stumble slightly, only to feel Iwaizumi's arm clasp your shoulder to steady you.

He's warm, your mind chants. And he smells good. Like citrus.

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice your flustered countenance, "watch it," he barks out. Then, he turns back to answer your question, "how do I know you won't make Hoisuke fail his grade if I upset you too much?"

"Woah there mister. I didn't know I was that low on your list."

"That's not what I meant," he growls. A few weeks before might have caused you to fear his temper. But things are different now and you've come to know that it's just in Iwaizumi's nature to be so rough around the edges.

So you just bump your shoulders against him, flash him an understanding grin, and say, "I get it, hothead. No need to get riled up."

"What'd you call me?!"

Bursting into fits of laughter at how easily triggered he gets, you reach up to ruffle his hair, "down, boy--"

And that's when it hits you -- you are touching Iwaizumi's hair. Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck.

Your hand drops like wildfire, body instantly cowering away with a furious blush, "I'm so sorry," you squeak out, "that was not appropriate I know--"

Someone else bumps into your back which knocks you straight into the said man's chest. His hands find your waist on instinct as he steadies you both and for a minute, the world stops moving. Nothing matters, apart from the fact that your face is pressed against his torso, his scent overwhelming your nostrils with bliss, his warmth making you melt ever so slightly.

"Asshole," you hear his dim hiss like an echo in the back of your head. Dazed, your eyes stay glued to his shirt in hopes that he won't notice your embarrassment, "s--sorry about that," you squeak out.

Only then do you feel his gaze slide down to your face. He asks gruffly, "you okay?"

"Fine."

Dear god. Someone kill you now.

"Come on," and before you can protest, you feel his warm hand wrap around your own as he tugs you along, ensuring that you are tucked into his side while he weaves through the throng of people.

You're glad he can't see your face, nor the way your pulse is racing underneath your skin.

And the more you gaze at the strength of his shoulders, the more you are hit by a crumbling realization:

That you might be falling for Iwaizumi Hajime, and that might be the worst decision you’ve made yet.

----

He tells you about his married life when you sit outside the convenience store that evening, about how young and inexperienced he was, and how it had ended on pretty bad terms.

The fact that he even opens up about the topic surprises you, but nevertheless, you want to hope that it's his way of showing that your relationship isn't just tied by Hoosuke.

“Why...” you hesitate slightly, tentative, unsure whether one word will cause him to clam up, “why did it not work out? With you and Hoisuke's mother?” 

It is to be expected that you are met with his silence. It’s stoic and filled with warning, and you quickly scramble for an out, “I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me,” you bow your head and bite your lip. 

“She wanted more.” 

His words catch you by surprise. You blink, before looking up at him. He doesn’t look away.

It takes a moment. Then, he murmurs: 

“She wanted more...of everything. Things I couldn’t give her.” 

It stuns you, that he’s so outright. Your mouth opens, but you don’t have anything to say, and you don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he continues thickly, “she was never satisfied with what I gave her. Always complained that I wasn't enough of a man to sustain a family," he pauses, "I think she was envious. She worked in a big corporation as a financial auditor, and her friends -- well, they all live pretty decent lives. So when we always had our arms full with cleaning up after Hoisuke, they went to get cocktails and eat sushi. I guess she felt like she was missing out somewhere along the line."

It's not the things he says, it's more about the way he says it, voice so thick with emotion that you can hear the tears about to fall from his lips. Your own chest aches with sympathy and your fingers ache to reach out to just hold him.

But you're not that close. You know it's not within your boundaries.

Iwaizumi chuckles before your mind can form a coherent answer, "sorry. Didn't mean for it to get depressive."

You turn to look at him, gaze at the way the streetlight dances over his side profile and down his jawline, "You don't have to say sorry, Iwaizumi-san," pausing and unsure whether you should go on, you decide it's worth the risk, "and while I don't blame her priorities, well, ...was money really such an issue that she left you and Hoisuke behind?"

He shrugs half-hearted, "not my place to say. I was labelled the cheap bastard that wasn't worth shit when she decided to sleep with her ex."

Disgust coils in your stomach, but you decide on letting the anger simmer silently in the pit of your stomach. You don't realize, however, that your fist is clenched so hard into your lap until the warmth of Iwaizumi's fingers flutter over your own.

You look up in surprise only to find his dark orbs searching your face, "hey," he murmurs out quietly, voice surprisingly soft, " s' okay."

You flush against the chilly night air, "sorry," you mumble, "I just-- I know how it feels like. Not to feel like you're enough."

He doesn't respond, only watches you intently. You continue, "my boyfriend cheated on me back in college. I didn't know about it, until six months later."

Iwaizumi sucks in a breath and his fingers tense over yours. Your throat feels scratchy, "so I know the feeling."

"Asshole," is what slips out of his mouth. You chuckle half-heartedly, though with the way he isn't pulling away from your hand makes you feel warm and giddy on the inside.

You'd like to think that this little bit of time spent together has brought you closer, if only to share your woes. But one thing's for sure, you think to yourself as you slowly walk back to Iwaizumi's flat now that the crowd has thinned out, Is that you both have Hoisuke's best interests at heart.

And that is your top priority that you should not forget. Even if you can feel your breath tug in your chest every time your eyes linger a little too long upon each other's.

----

Ha, who the hell were you kidding?

It’s almost impossible to put the certain dark-eyed, dark-haired scowling face of a man out of your mind as the next week comes by. It’s even harder when Hoisuke is more than intent on spending time at your desk in-between classes, chatting on about what he and his father were up to throughout the week. And though you restrain yourself from asking too many questions burning at the back of your tongue, you can’t help but be drawn to the small snippets of Iwaizumi’s life as presented by his son. Even if it’s presented by his son.

So why do you find yourself back in his apartment the very next week with flour all over your clothes ans currently coaching Hoisuke to make figures with his clumsy five-year-old hands?

"This is hard miss Y/N," Hoisuke pouts, arms dropping to his sides, "can't you do it?"

"But that would be no fun," you nudge him playfully as you work on your own little cat figure, "all you need is patience, practice and love."

Glancing at the clock above Hoisuke's head to see that it's already past six in the evening, you wonder where Iwaizumi and Oikawa have disappeared off to. They hadn't told you anything, only that they were picking up some groceries. You guessed it was merely the thought of baking that made them so reticent.

"Don't worry miss Y/N. Daddy's coming back soon," Hoisuke says, as if knowing exactly the thoughts occupying your mind.

"Where did your daddy go anyway?" You decide to play along and ask casually as you move behind Hoisuke to help him mold tiny fingers.

"He and uncle Tooru said that they wanted you to taste the food from the sushi place they love," he then adds casually, almost like an afterthought, "daddy said you looked tired."

He said what now? Your eyebrows shoot up in curiosity.

The sound of the door opening grabs your attention, revealing a dishevelled Oikawa in the doorway with grocery bags hanging from his arms, "we're back with food!"

"Uncle Tooru! Look at the cookie I'm making!" Hoisuke doesn't hesitate to tug onto Oikawa's shirt and drag him to the kitchen counter to marvel at the little misshaped man. Dusting your hands onto your apron and turning to help Iwaizumi, your step falters upon noticing the undecipherable expression shadowing his features.

"Iwaizumi-san?" You blink.

It's gone in a flash, replaced by his usual scowl, "sorry we're late," he murmurs as you help him with the takeaways. You try not to think too much into the way he'd been staring, but your own heart skips a beat at the possibility that maybe--

Stop. You mentally slap yourself. Stop it right there.

Similarly, Iwaizumi is having the exact same mental debate.

Don't get him wrong. There isn't anything he loves about the fact that you've just created havoc in his kitchen. Had he insinuated it when he'd asked about your famous cookie recipe? Maybe. But shit man, call him old and cranky but the amount of cleaning up after the mess in his kitchen is something he isn't looking forward to.

But that small nugget of stress instantly melts away the moment he lays eyes on you and Hoisuke, together. Hoisuke is giggling, you are holding onto his hands, maneuvering them so as to make a semblance of a human limb. You're both dusted with flour, pink in your cheeks, and Iwaizumi swears his heart is going to drop out of his chest.

"Daddy daddy! Wanna see the man me and miss Y/N made?"

"That miss Y/N and I made," you corrected out of impulse, grinning as the child repeated what you saie with no less conviction, and Iwaizumi forced himself to move towards his son with nonchalance, "let me see."

Now that he thinks about it, he shouldn't be inviting you over so casually like it's a weekly thing. And maybe you don't even want to be there. Maybe you're just doing him a favour because you pity him. That's enough to make him sick in his stomach.

But this thought dissipates the more the evening wears on and the more he catches your soft eyes, the motherly affection you radiate towards his child, the gentle giggles falling from your mouth.

Iwaizumi wants it. He wants it so bad his heart aches.

And Oikawa seems to know exactly what he's thinking. Or maybe he's too obvious.

"This is so good," you groan in satisfaction while digging into the takeout sushi. Oikawa doesn't hesitate to pipe up, "right? Iwa-chan literally dragged my butt out of town for th-- fuck!"

He howls, clutching his leg where Iwaizumi had kicked at it in growing irritation and when you look at him in confusion, he feels his face grow red, "don't listen to him."

"Uncle Tooru, you're a bad man. You said the F word," Hoisuke chimes in, "it's okay though, daddy. You don't have to be embarrassed."

The redness of a fire engine can't compare to the flush riding the back of his neck. He wishes for the ground to swallow him at this very inetant, though his lips do quirk up in a smile seeing you burst out laughing before ruffling Hoisuke's hair.

"I see the way you look at her," Oikawa tells him a few nights later upon meeting up at the gym where they both train a few nights a week. It is also one of the few times where Hoisuke stays at his mother's place.

Iwaizumi grunts in response. He turns his head away to focus on his pushups, but if his best friend can deduce from his face alone, then that's an obvious way of showing his embarrassment when he is past the point of denial.

"She likes you too you know," Oikawa casually throws in, wiping the sweat from his face as he straddles a rowing machine, "she's like an open book."

"You don't know that," Iwaizumi hisses as he bends his arms, lift them with another grunt.

"Oh yes I do. And if you're smart you'd do something about it before someone else comes in to swoop her away."

As annoying as he is, Oikawa has a point. The nagging thought eats away at his subconscious mind the more Iwaizumi turns his feelings over in his hands. Despite this, he invites you out with him and his best friend one Saturday night and is mildly surprised that you accept so quickly.

"How have we never met if you went to Aoba Johsai?" Oikawa asks while munching on a french fry. As per his request for greasy comfort food, they'd ended up dragging you to one of their local eateries that make the best burgers in town, "would've noticed a cutie like you."

You can't help but roll your eyes, grinning, "simple, I didn't have any talent. I sang like I was deaf and had two left feet. And don't get me started on sports."

"You could've been a cheerleader," Oikawa smirks evilly, causing you to swat him and reply, "unless I wanted to come out of high school with two broken legs, which I did not."

"Good thing anyway, Iwa-chan hated those cheerleaders with a passion," Oikawa nudges him, "whenever I'd get bombarded with them he'd just scowl and they would scurry off like ants. They were scared shitless!"

"As if you didn't like watching those cheerleaders," you throw Iwaizumi a smug, pointed look with raised eyebrows, to which is scowl deepened. But you're used to it at this point, it doesn't even make you flinch.

"They were annoying and whiny. Why would I like them?" He muttered into his strawberry milkshake. A surprising revelation, considering his bitter, rough countenance.

"Cause they were hot."

"Cause they had long legs."

You and Oikawa blink at each other before you burst out laughing. Iwaizumi merely rolls his eyes, "idiots," but his mouth says otherwise, tugging up in amusement.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Oikawa-san?" You ask aa you munch on your burger.

"Bah, girlfriends don't agree with me."

"He's too much of a playboy to get himself a girlfriend," Iwaizumi mutters loud enough to reach your ears and you snort at the dagger-eyed stare Oikawa throws him, "I can't just give that," he motions towards his figure, "hot bod to anyone, Iwa-chan!"

"Mine's hotter than yours."

"Shut up! Why are you always so mean to me? You know I've been working my ass off for those back muscles!"

Your snort causes your milkshake to spurt from your nose and as Oikawa yelps and scoots furthest away from you, Iwaizumi doesn't hesitate to thrust a bunch of clean napkins in your face, chuckling deeply as he eyes you with the same fond amusement he's been denying himself of in the last few weeks.

Is it selfish? To want more of you than he can have? To feel the naked throb of his fingers that ache to reach out and just tuck your hair behind your ears?

Of course it is. If he does that, he'll cross a line he isn't quite certain he's ready for yet.

Daddy, do you really really like Miss Y/N? Hoisuke's voice is as clear as water that same evening, after he's tucked his son in, after all lights have dimmed in his flat and he sprawls atop his bed with heavy eyelids and a content stomach.

Yes, he thinks to himself as his eyes slowly slip shut, I think I do.

Fuck.

-----

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png, @bakugouswh0r3, @yatoatyourservice, @ayocee, @marvel-ing-at-it-all, @astrolcve, @lilith412426, @elianetsantana, @schleepyflocci, @oohlalie , @kaashikoi , @tendo-sxtori , @iwaroses , @its-the-aerieljeane , @lalalemon101 , @lanaxians-2 , @dora-the-grownup , @sharin-gone , @nekomavsnohebi , @crayonwriting , @imafan , @random-fandom-girl-24 , @bucinhajime , @izumikunmy , @iwaoioioi​ , @evesmores​ , @meri-soni-meri-tamanna​ , @paintedstarres​ , @okadaxo , @michaki​

#iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #aoba joh #aoba johsai x reader #aoba johsai imagines #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi fanfiction #haikyu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #haikyu oneshot #haikyuu!! #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu x reader #haikyu #oikawa to #oikawa imagines #kageyama tobio #anime fanfiction

[forever-rogue]

Hii! From Prompt List 1 can u do number 3,51 and 243 w javier peña please ✨

Also i love ur writings so much ⭐

3. "Am I supposed to be scared of you?"

51. "Go on them, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

243. "Oh my God, you're in love with her!"

Enjoy!

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Tell me," there was nothing but venom lacing your voice as you stared at Javier. Your face was slick with tears as you tried to keep your lips from trembling. You wanted to break down, gods knew you did, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction. You would do that as soon as he walked out of your apartment for what would be the last time, "go on then, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

"Don't do this cariño," the bastard had the audacity to try and call you by your pet name, "you know this is the way. The only way."

"You're such a damn liar," you hissed at him. You should have seen this coming. You should have known. 

You shouldn't have fallen in love with Javier Peña.

"We always knew what we were doing was wrong," it was a meek insistence, hollow and empty and neither of you quite believed it, "it was never supposed to go this far."

"This far? This far?" you wanted to scream, to grab his shoulders and shake him, to knock some sort of sense into him, but instead you just stared at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears, "did you think we would fuck and that’s it? I told you it was never going to be just that. And you never seemed to have a problem with that."

"You need to stop," this time it was more firm and his nostrils flared as he tried to control the hit of rage that had seemed into his bones, "we both knew what this was from the start. It was just sex."

"You're here, in my apartment, lying to my face," you sniffled as you dabbed at your eyes and wished you would wake up to find this was a horrible dream. You wished you'd wake up, wrapped in his arms while he slept soundly, like you had so many other times. You wished, you wished, you wished. But that didn't change the reality of the situation, nor the gravitas of it, "if you can look in my eyes and tell me you don't love me - never loved me - do it. If you can do it, I'll let this go."

"You're being ridiculous," he huffed and rolled his eyes ever so slightly as his hands went to his hips. 

"I'm being ridiculous?" your voice rose up about two octaves as you realized just how hysterical you did sound. But it didn't matter - once Javier had made up his mind, he was a stubborn piece of work. But you refused to let this go, "I'm not the grown man that won't even admit his own feelings. That runs every time something comes up. That shuts out everyone and everything anytime it gets real."

"Maybe you're just thinking too much into this!" and there it was - the fiery temper that he was famous for. It wasn't shocking because it had suddenly jumped out; it was shocking because he'd never raised his voice at you, "maybe you just want to make something out of nothing! It was never anything - it was just sex. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Am I supposed to be scared of you?" you raised your voice and yelled back with just as much as anger and spite as he spit at you, "you're a liar and a coward. You can't even look at me - if you don't love me fucking tell me!"

"I'm not doing this right now," he huffed as stepped over the threshold, shoulders rising and falling in rapid movements as tired to control his anger, "I'm done - whatever we had, its over now."

"Javier," you tried to reach for his hand, but he was quick to pull out of your grasp, causing you to sigh heavily, "don't walk away - not like this."

"There's nothing left to say," he insisted quietly, staring at the floor, rather than daring to look in your eyes, "I'll see you at work and that's that. Everything else is done. Obviously you cannot handle this."

"You're just going to walk away," you were incredulous as a few tears of grief and anger rolled down your cheeks, "fuck you, Javier. I hate you." 

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. Tears were heavily pouring down your cheeks and spilling onto the cool slide as you sank to the floor. Small ugly little sobs racked your body as you gave up and in to your pathetic inner, upset self. You loved him, you really, really did. You knew that. 

You knew he loved you too. You knew he was scared. Damn scared. And it was okay - if he would have opened up to you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You look like shit,” Steve barely looked up from his coffee and morning review of documents as Javier stormed in, practically slamming himself down in his chair. He groaned and flipped Steve the middle finger before reaching for his cigarettes, effortlessly lighting it up and leaning back, “what happened to you?”

Javier closed his eyes but remained silent, a vain attempt at letting his mind wander too far. He hadn’t slept the night before, mind and thoughts racing over and over with snippets of his conversation with you. Your words had stuck in his mind all night: coward, coward, coward. And you had been right. 

He was a coward; pathetic and scared all because he didn’t want to risk getting hurt. Or hurting you. And in the end he had managed to do both. It was never supposed to go this far, it was never supposed to be anything more than sex, but the lines had become so blurred and so fast, and before he knew - he was in love.

And that terrified the shit out of him. 

So he reacted how he tended to do; to push you away. To isolate himself. It was supposed to be easy, supposed to work. All it had down was leave him with regret eating him up alive. He should have admitted you were right, he should have confessed. If there was anyone worth taking a chance on - it was you. He’d known it was you from the first time you’d had sex it was just...different. Different from every other experience he’d had. And gods, how he’d slowly fallen for all the little things you did, all your little quirks. 

Your smile, that laugh, those eyes that seemed to convey a million emotions at once. Your steadfast stubbornness, the fact that you always called him on his bullshit, how you never backed down from confrontation, how you gave so much to others and asked for so little. How you’d chide him for getting even a papercut, and how you’d love him, even when he didn’t ask you to. How you;d take him in your arms, wordlessly, and give him everything he needed and then some, how you’d chase away his fears and pain. How - 

Everything. 

He was in deep, and when it came down to the wire, he’d run. Like a liar and a coward. 

His eyes snapped open and landed on the desk, the spot you normally occupied and found it empty. A scowl tugged on his features as his brows knitted together, “where is she?”

“Hmm?” Steve looked back up and followed Javi’s line of sight before he shrugged lightly, “I talked to her this morning, said she wasn’t feeling good.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed under his breath, just enough for Steve to hear, “did she say when she’s coming back?”

“I dunno, Javi,” Steve sighed heavily, “she’s a grown woman, if she’s not feeling well, she’s not feeling well. She’ll be back when she’s better. Calm down.”

“Steve-”

“Oh god - you’re in love with her. Aren’t you?” the smirk tugging on his features was undeniable as Javier rolled his eyes but refused to look over, “I knew it - everyone knew it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his mouth went dry as he looked at his partner and felt like slamming his head against the wall. Of course. It’s so obvious.

“I mean...it’s just...everyone’s known, Javi,” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, “it’s so obvious. You’re different because of her - for her. You might be the last person to know. Shit...you haven’t told her, have you?”

Javier made a small sound in his throat but otherwise remained silent as he stared at your desk. Not feeling well my ass, he thought to himself before running a hand over his tired face. 

But you didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or - 

Shit. He had really messed up. 

You were all he could think about, plaguing his waking and sleeping hours as he tried to figure out what to do. His mind was on you as he sat in the office and smoked cigarette after cigarette and glossed over paperwork. You were in his every thought as he and Steve chased after some of Escobar’s men; so much that he almost slipped up and let them get away. 

By Friday afternoon, he couldn’t handle it any longer. This was ridiculous and he was going to put an end to it all, one way or another.

Javier almost jumped out of his seat, grabbing his leather jacket and half empty pack of cigarettes without a word as he stormed out of the office. Steve barely looked up in time to catch him, his question dying on his tongue as he watched his partner storm out. He didn’t have to ask to know exactly what was going on.

Finally, he thought to himself shaking his head, finally. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Open the door," Javier's voice was commanding but it still managed to shake as he rapped his knuckles against the peeling paint of your door, "cariño, I know you're in there…"

And you were. You were curled up on the couch in your pajamas, an empty bottle of wine on the table as an old, cheesy romance movie played in the background. The lights were off and you were tired, but you still couldn't manage to find sleep. 

You'd avoided going into the office for the last couple of days, feigning illness and earning a scoff from the ambassador, but nothing else was said. In the time you'd been in Colombia, you'd never so much as used a single sick day, so they didn't question you. But of course your partners did. Well, one of them. The other had known exactly what was going and it had been eating him up inside, even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

But his little heart to heart with Steve had inspired him - practically shoved him in the right direction. You'd been on his mind rent free since he'd left. Hell - for much longer than that.

"Go away," you managed to croak out before burrowing further into your pillow, feeling a fresh wave of tears spill down your cheeks at his presence. Knowing you almost had him but didn't was heartbreaking, "you made it clear we have nothing, Javier.”

“Open the damn door,” there was a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard before - was that...desperation? Javier paused and sighed heavily, “please. I-I...fuck, I fucked up.”

“If you’re going to play some sort of cruel joke, save your breath,” you huffed, “like you said, we are nothing. We’ll be work partners and that’s it.”

There was a beat of silence and a part of you thought he left, you were almost relieved at the thought. But before you knew it, you heard the keys jingling in the lock and the door opened; you cursed yourself for giving him a spare set. Either way, he probably could have figured out how to get in anyways. He just couldn’t let it go.

“Cariño,” he came and swiftly made his way over to you, frowning when he saw you all curled up and the discarded mess around you, "I-"

"Go away, Javi," it was a pathetic plea as you glanced up at him. His heart felt it was going to shatter and break at the sight of your red, glossy eyes as you sniffled at him, "haven't you done enough? Or should I be apologizing for having feelings and being honest about them?"

"I should be begging you for forgiveness," he dropped to his knees beside you, a hand tentatively reaching out to you, as he tried to see if you would pull away. Despite wanting to, instead wishing you could yell and scream, you stay rooted in position as he gently pushed your hair out of your hair. He brushed his thumb gently over your cheek as your eyes fluttered closed at the familiar touch, "I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" your brow furrowed at his words, "you made yourself very clear."

"I fucked up - you're right. I am a liar and a coward," he confessed as your eyes snapped back open to meet his. They were gentle, softened in the corners with the crinkles that you adored so much, "I realized I had feelings and I panicked. I shut you out and hurt you."

"My head hurts, Javier," you sighed slightly, "just get to the point."

"I love you," he admitted and suddenly it felt your heart had dropped into your stomach as you stared at him. He was sure you must have heard the wild beating of his heart as he tried to anticipate your reaction, "I-I'm in love with you."

"If this is your idea of a joke," you moved his hand away and sat up, trying to prepare yourself for any possibility, "its even more fucked up than just breaking my heart. I knew what this started this and I should have stopped it when I started to catch feelings but I-"

But Javier didn't let you say anything further. Instead, he cut you off by crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply - slowly and with meaning. It was an easy dance, one you'd done hundreds of times before. But this time just felt...different.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close, and yours wound around his neck. Effortless and easy, just like everything with him was. It was anything frenzied or hurried, but slow and gentle as he tried to convey his every thought and feeling through his touch. He thought his heart might burst when he felt your smile whilst his lips, as you carded a hand through his dark locks.

Only when you were both breathless and drunk off of each other did you pull apart. He stared at you, his gaze soft as you grabbed his face and delicately cradled it before pressing another kiss to his lips.

"I hope this means what I think it means or I'm going to have to murder you," you whispered against his lips, as his own tugged into a smile, "because I am in love you and I don't know if I can ever change that."

"It means I'm an idiot," he admitted, "a cowardly fool that ran when things got real - although they were always real. Its obvious, isn't it? I just never realized."

"That's because you gave a thick skull, Peña," you gently tapped a knuckle against the side of his head, "and you need to learn to be more open - with me anyway. You don't have to be afraid, Javi. Not with me; I'm not going anywhere, you know that. I know you - the real you - and nothing about you scares me or whatever you think it is. I love you and that means every little bit of you."

"I…" he paused for a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly as your words washed over him. His heart had never felt warmer or more light as he realized the immense weight your words held. He closed his eyes and nodded, gently pressing his forehead against yours, "I love you. Fully and completely cariño. Even if I am an idiot."

"My idiot," you promised softly, "just talk to me next time, okay? Don't run and hide - stay with me. It'll be okay, you will always have me."

"Fuck," he whispered as he pulled you into his arms and wrapped you up in the tightest hug possible, "I'm sorry - so sorry. I love you."

"I love you, Javier," you whispered, "stay with me?"

"Always."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[lillian-nator]

Everything below was made by Me, Eye, and Ethan over the course of like 3 days

Thank you (with additions from sleepy my beloved)

Like

Okay

So

Wilbur isn’t the oldest

Techno is

But it’s a war run empire, they take pride in their troops and armies and triumphs

The soldiers come first

So Techno is the commander in chief , the general

Wilbur, second born

Is heir to the throne

To the diplomatic side of the empire

and Tommy Gets shit

He doesn’t even understand why Phil had another kid

Of course there is the situation where Techno or Wilbur dies, or one of them steps down, but it won’t happen

Was he really born to be the understudy

he was born as a backup

Tommy was an accident but they’re not gonna let the public know that

like he's the Zuko

Phil doesn't really pay attention to him so his mother picks up the slack

Wilbur is 21

Techno’s 23

Tommy’s 17

However I have a really good idea for prince Tommy, just like what if he doesn’t like the way that people treat him? Like he doesn’t want all these yes men he wants to be he wants to be told now, he want somebody to tell him he that’s against the rules he just wants him like structure he just want someone to hate him he want someone to not like him and say no and tell him that he’s stupid which is why he does all of the stupid shit that he does

Ever since he was like 4

Everyone has said yes

He wants to defy them

He wants to just do something to make someone say no

That and he lowkey

He wants ~~Phil~~ Wilbur to pay attention to him

Is a Little Shit who causes so many problems on purpose to try and find someone who will push back against him

He wants someone to give him structure and discipline but overall he just wants his family’s attention

He’s broken shit, thrown temper tantrums, he’s started fights and he’ll he’s even snuck out and stole things

He’s never been stopped

People consider him snobby and spoiled

He's a brat

He gets everything he wants, but he doesn’t really want it, he just asks to see if they’ll tell him no

Tubbo = Stable Boy

Ranboo = Prince of another country (probably the americas)

Ranboo could definitely fit the role of an overseas royal prince who Tommy sees as a regal, spoiled, uppity little shit. Like Tubbo, who Tommy sneaks everywhere, has met Ranboo and likes him. Tommy can't possibly see why, he's unbearable.

Bench Trio = Best freinds

I think that Tommy and his brothers were always very very close

they just have jobs and shit

They took over Phil's shit

they probably drift apart as they get older, Wilbur and techno have duties and Tommy starts his quest for attention, they grow apart from their little brother without realizing it

Tommy and his mother (kristin) are always and have continued to be close

she definitely chides him, and tells him quietly to not do things for all of his "misbehaviors"

but there is only so much that she can do, because she has the duty to not make a scene

that and she's not who he's looking for attention from

You may be asking "How is crime recognized, identified, discussed, and atoned for?" more specifically, "Is it a 'you stole my bread so without asking anyone I'm cutting your hand off' or is it the US court system" ~~You may also be Ethan~~

The answer is:

like the UKs

But more like

Okay so the Supreme Judicial system, but Phil (and then Wilbur) has teh final say

Court system, but with Phil overseeing everything

instead of a judge

HOWEVER, that's in the national level

in smaller villages, its more of the cut your hand off system

because the judicial system isn't regulated

So bonus questions:

Punishments and the identification of whether a crime counts as a crime?

soldiers can call crimes out, and citizens can file reports

Phil's not really shit, he just doesn't show Tommy any attention because he's busy with the other two

Just honestly doesn't even care about most shit Tommy does

Like, doesn't pay attention to it until it affects him, he's busy running a country and training the boys to running a country

I don’t think they (the brothers) realize how badly everything is affecting Tommy

The only one who knows anything about the full extent would be his mom, and she’s in a similar boat to Tommy

Phil doenst really see her much either

Not like she could “Make a Scene” trying to get Phil to pay attention to his youngest, to actually love his child, he’s barely around

Kristin and Phil spend time together at night, but during the day everything is for the cameras

its like the UK royals, how they do shit just for the people

And Phil doenst want to hear about the kids at night, he wants to spend time with his wife

Tommy has stolen a car and will do it again

Just fucking hopped in and took a joyride

With Absolutely No Repercussions

Do you think Phil ever tries to hire like, a nanny or something? In the aftermath of the Car Incident? Yes, and it never worked

Tommy, like 15 at the time, pissed as hell as a random ass woman tries to tell him to go to bed at 8:30 pm

Tommy wants somebody to tell him no but not somebody hired to tell him no mannn

Tommy goes to like parties - like ragers

he has a network of really famous friends like young actors and shit

dude is a party animal, underage drinking, rumors of drugs, he’s the PR Teams worst nightmare, but they’re not going to say anything

The press makes up SO MUCH SHIT

The press once said that he had done cocaine when it was really one of his friends

Tommy adopts two dogs (hello Betty and Walter) without asking either of his parents

Betty is short for Elizabeth

He brings them in off the street

Literal abandoned street dogs and he goes, mine now

He like, walks down the street with sunglasses on, and just doesn't look at anyone as he walks the dogs, who have like black nice leather leashes

The paparazzi always finds him walking the dogs

like a modern celebrity

Mans can and will call the paparazzi on himself - because he is a drama queen ETHAN Tommy voice "hello pa pa. I have hired two new staff, pa pa." "Huh?" "they have found work in this palace as emotional support animals, pa pa." "....ok." tommy voice "he didn't even blink, elizabeth the fourteenth" END OF ETHAN MAKING FUN OF THE BRITISH

By the way just to clear things up with you all, Tommy addresses Phil as "Father"

most of the paparazzi's pictures of Tommy are him flipping the camera off

He poses for them

just sees a camera and fucking sticks his tongue out and flips them off

He’s wearing some atrocious outfit while walking his dogs and he just has a full on fashion photshoot of poses for them

If his dad won’t give him attention at least they will

Tommy befriends some of the staff

he hates a lot of the butlers tbh

thinks they're stuck up

but likes to gossip with the maids, and sit in the kitchen as the chefs cook lunch "Heyyyy, chef!" "Your highness, what is it, are you hungry?" "Can't a man just talk to his chef? Befriend his castle staff?" "Ah."

that and the kitchen gives betty and walter treats

Top ten Prince Thomas microaggressions

Number One: he calls Phil "your highness"

For context, kings are referred to as Your Majesty

He calls Wilbur Your Majesty

It was a joke when they were younger, a habit from then on, but now it’s to spite Phil

Tommy spends an ridiculous amount of money on clothes all at once, purely to see if Phil would yell at him for using the family debit card for it

He never wears the clothes

He doesn’t particularly like any of them anyways

Instead he donate them all anonymously

Tommy may be a brat but he isn’t wasteful

By the time Tommy’s 12 he’s started acting up, and it escalates slowly until he hits 15 where things just start snowballing and he gets worse and worse

he's definitely nicknamed by the press as some sort of party animal or fratboy

a spoiled brat

He’s 16, and he knows his place in the family, he is forgotten and glossed over, but he won’t be ignored, not if he can help it

The Public gives him the attention he wishes his father would give him, he walks his dogs with the paparazzi tailing after him, just hoping that maybe one scandal or one horrible picture will eventually be enough to make his dad actually See him

he'll tell the paparazzi what they want to hear

and give every magazine a story to tell

they notice him

he just wants somebody to tell him no, somebody tell this boy no without being paid to please

Tommy probably has like, pierced his ears or smth. Gotten tattoos.

he has holes in his face yes.

he pierced his ears and his nose

He has a tattoo on the inside of his finger that matches with Tubbo and Ranboo

Maybe the picture of him plastered from last weekend will make his dad reprimand him

Maybe the weed found in his backseat will get his Dad to ground him

Maybe the bottle of fucking pills he was “holding for a friend” but got caught with Will get some sort of reaction

and its not like he's only doing it for attention

he starts it for attention, but he loves it he does

he has fun, he loves his friends, he likes the parties and the air

but, he also loves the attention, he's not gonna lie

Tommy who took adderall at a party once but it didn’t do anything for him, he seemed to function a little better actually

Tommy who knows Techno has adhd and takes adderall for it, Tommy who puts two and two together Bc he’s not fucking dumb

Tommy realizing his dad never cared to even get him diagnosed or treated

and Techno does notice, he does figure it out, but he does either a "hey..." or a "m8 I'll just get you your own if its helpin you focus" and tommy is furious

Tommy's life here is just

'trying to be yelled at HARD MODE'

Just wants to be screamed at, lowkey

I think, Wilbur avoids the tabloids

And the press

And the news

However, his advisors often read him the shit about Tommy - or anything about him

But they never see the pictures

They don’t see the picture of Tommy drunk on a strangers balcony

They don't see how bad it is

Tommy however? LOVES reading what the press has to say about him

Phil sees it however,

And he’s so disappointed

He gives Tommy so many talks but it never works

Because it doesn’t get him to love Tommy, to care about what Tommy does

Not like their mother

And he never makes a scene, not in the way Tommy wants to

It's all about "YOUR RUINING OUR IMAGE"

not: "YOUR RUINING YOUR LIFE"

He never asks if Tommy is ok

He never asks if he’s safe

Tommy's mum however, SO MANY AWKWARD "STAY SAFE" TALKS

He doesn't just fucking jump off shit because of her, he's slightly less reckless so that he can come home alive to her

I just think that Wilbur, no matter how busy, would find time to concerned yell at his baby brother if he were to find out about the pills

Weed and alcohol? Not great but ok.

Pills though?? He is full blown concerned Wilbro there

His brothers care. Their father is busy. He's a jerk sometimes too.

Wilbur does put out the fire a bit

He’s glad Wilbur had his best interest in mind

But man

The news headlines

They do him dirty

Shit like “Prince Tommy Caught Doing Cocaine at Frat Party” really fuck him over

They really just try their best to make him look like shit 95% of the time

Tommy loves it, just a little

Bad press is still press

He laughs at the headline Bc he knows he wasn’t doing cocaine, but Phil doesn’t, wilbur and techno don’t know that

It’s a tense week after that headline is released

His mom doesn’t even know if Tommy would have actually done cocaine

They just don’t know

Kristin asks him

She’s the only one who believes him

I think Wilbur wants to believe him, Techno too

But it’s hard to, especially when you’re not even sure you know your own brother anymore

Wilbur says something along the lines of being disappointed in Tommy, if he thought Tommy was trying to be better

Tommy scoffs and says he is trying, but that it’s real rich of Wilbur to be or entering to care now

This isn’t even the worse headline

One time a blonde kid got picked up from the same party Tommy was at on a stretcher, he had had an allergic reaction

Some shitty journalist saw and automatically assumed it was Tommy

They ran with the story that the prince had fucking overdosed for at least a week

The things they say are close to the truth but not quite

The PR Team tries their best to help but

They don’t even know what’s true or not

Tommy goes on a bender for a week, and walks into their office with coffee and pastries to apologize

They all know that presents mean a rough week of damage control

But Tommy imports them these Bomb ass donuts so

Fair trade really

Also heaven forbid tommy gets seen with a girl

It’s the worst shit

Tommy gets caught, drunk off his ass, pushing a couch out a window

(To be fair the people were moving soon anyways, they didn’t need the couch, it was a going away party)

And the next morning, recalling what he did

He orders up those pastries and calls the coffee place

Swings by to pick up the coffee and picks up the pastries all within the next two hours and delivers them on the third with an apology note

It’s fucking DAMAGE control

Thinking about Tubbo and Ranboo being Tommy’s DDs when they can

They are

When Tommy’s handler isn’t around

Them doing wild shit together but not Wild Shit

Tommy teaches them how to do burnouts and donuts in a fucking lambos in an empty mall parking lot

Ranboo goes everywhere incognito, Tommy practically flaunts his rank, Tubbo is considered a nobody and doesn't have to do anything but show up in casual clothes. He has a uniform for stablework.

Ranboo's parents are approving of his friendship with the fledging prince, as they hope he can wrangle Tommy to regality and he's building positive relations between the two kingdoms.

Phil is disapproving, worried Tommy will taint Ranboo and his rep and cause a tense air between the two kingdoms. Tommy loves Phil's worry, he practically bathes in it, it's the attention he so craves.

Tommy definitely will hold Tubbo's hand when he walks with him, because the headlines all scream Tommy is the gay?? and while he's very incredibly straight, he finds this hysterical.

Ranboo isn't always in Tommy's kingdom and rather spends most of his time at home. He might be second to heir or the crown prince himself, but he does have to spend time in his own country. Tommy face calls him a lot and he and Tubbo are ecstatic when he announces he's going to visit

I imagine he's second to the throne because that means he can focus on building relations instead of training to be king.

Older sibling Fundy, gets chronic illness, and Ranboo has to take over the throne for a bit

One of Tommy's worst stunts was hitching a ride to the Americas/Ranboo's kingdom without telling anyone.

Whether by boat or plane, he was gonna go visit his young king friend no matter what.

I say "young king" but he's still a prince. Just filling in for fundy

But all eyes turn to Ranboo and Ranboo is stumbling with attention he'd never known. Tommy has to help, doesn't he?

He expects such a punishment for stowing away to visit, but the headlines are... positive. Prince Tommy's friendship with Princr Ranboo becomes.... legendary, practically. Tubbo is always excluded from the news, even when he comes with.

Never too fantastical for classism

But no, the headlines see Tommy's visit not as the young, rebellious prince stowing away, but as a young boy risking his skin to visit his stressed friend.

Tommy is appalled.

And Tommy just groans and shows him the phone

And Ranboo laughs and goes

“There there Tommy, I’m sure dragging me to a frat party will be enough to ruin the good press.”

“Maybe get a dui, you’ll have diplomatic immunity so no jail time?”

“Boo, I wouldn’t get jail time even if I wasn’t em-mune, I am simply too poggers.”

“Sure man, let’s go with that.”

Tommy’s like “maybe I need to actually start doing hard drugs”

Ranboos just like “no -“ just “Please god no, your brothers will kill both of us.”

The Boo is terrified of Techno and Wilbur

Not as royals though, simply as Tommy’s older brothers

Like he knows about Tommy’s issues with validation and feeling unloved, he knows his Brothers are often very busy

But he also sees the way they look at Tommy, and the way they look when people talk bad about Tommy

He knows if something were to happen and he was to cause harm to Tommy or cause Tommy to cause harm to himself

It probably wouldn’t end well for him

Wilbur and techno try as hard as they can

But they’re SO busy

That they can’t do much especially when Tommy’s so persistent on doing his shit

Tubbo is great with the horses he tends to, and Tommy adores them. Ranboo is an excellent, regal rider and Tommy and Tubbo are more rough and ballsy, so races are fair and fastpaced.

Ranboo once got bucked by a royal stallion and Tommy and Tubbo never let him live it down.

I imagine Tubbo lives on the property, as some servants do. He either doesn't have a family, has a bad one, or his family doesn't live close to the palace.

So Tommy 10/10 sneaks to the servants' quarters and he and Tubbo sneak out to ride the horses.

I feel like Wilbur makes more of an effort after the pills and cocaine incident, he tries to ask Tommy about the headlines

Purples is Tommy’s friend

Rich family, old money

Throws a lot of the parties Tommy goes to

Purpled and punz :handshake: Tommy

Frat Boys

I think you guys are underestimating the time that Tommy spends at the castle

Like he still has school, and usually 3 days out of the week he follows around his brothers like an endearing little shit

But those 4 days where he’s gone (which includes weekends) plus nights, he’s doing shit

Also, yiu know Pongo right

101 Dalmatians

That’s how Tommy walks Betty and Walter

They are like standing completely proper and walks straight

ah yes, the royal bitches and also betty and walter are there too

the paparazzi taking pictures of Tommy and the dogs

and Tommy turns, taking his sunglasses off, and smiles big and wide "They have names you know? You should stop callin' them 'the royal dogs'."

One of the guys, he's familiar with the prince turns on his camera and asks "what're their names Prince Tommy?"

"Betty and Walter. Give them some respect."

Tommy visits Ranboo sometimes. Ranboo was looking for him one day and just found him standing in a long hall, staring at a portrait.

It's Ranboo, just barely younger, hands folded behind his back, the perfect picture of regality.

Tommy is staring at it because he knows that at home, there is a portrait of Wilbur looking like that, and one of Techno, and one of Phil and Kristen, and one of himself.

But somehow this image of Ranboo is.. haunting

Not because it doesn't match with the Ranboo he knows, but because it does.

It haunts him because he can stare at his portrait for hours and never see himself, but this is so plainly Ranboo that it's chilling.

Ranboo stands beside him, hands folded behind his back as they always are when he is in nice clothes and his eyes are visible. Tommy glances over and Ranboo is facing him, but staring up at the picture. It's still him.

The clothes are different and his hair is longer now, but Tommy can't tell the difference past that.

He knows that Ranboo is what his family wants him to be

He knows that Ranboo is him if he hadn't strayed, the same past

Ranboo knows exactly what’s going through his head right now

And he knows exactly what he needs too

They get fucking piss ass drunk in Ranboo’s room order takeout and FaceTime Tubbo

They can party tomorrow, Tommy doesn’t need to be in public right now

ANywyas

Tommy and his mother have a wonderful relationship

she teaches him literacy and history, they have a tutor teach him maths

they eat breakfast together every morning

the whole family does

but his mum tries to eat lunch with him at least 3 times a week

he goes out for lunch the days he doesn't eat with his brothers or mom, out to some resturant, sometimes, they trash it or party, sometimes he just brings Tubbo, no big group, and they just chill

With Ranboo in line for kingship (the way royalty works is that if the ruler dies, it will always go to the next in line of blood, never by marriage. Even if every heir was dead, it would still not go to the ruler consort but instead to a family member of the late ruler), rep is so much more important

he can't really be seen with Tommy sometimes

not on the bad weeks

not when Tommy just destroyed a bnb or set off fireworks with his friends, or was caught throwing chairs into his friend's pool

Tommy likes sport cars

big car guys

He has an exorbitant amount of fancy cars

its truly like

disgusting

how many cars he owns

Wilbur makes fun of it Bc the kid is just now legally old to drive

But Wilbur has so many expensive instruments

Some of which he doesn’t even know how to play yet

to be fair

Wilbur doesnt go breaking his instraments

Techno, techno has swords, which makes sense Bc he’s a general

But the amount swords he has just hanging on his wall

Never meant to be used

It’s so many

I feel like Tommy has a few cars that he doesn’t even let get scratched tho much

His babies

he has his expensive cars that he wrecks

and then his expensive cars that he treats like gold

They’re named

Clementine is this horrendous orange car that he absolutely loves

Its a bright orange ferrari

(He loves it Bc it was a gift from Phil, one of the first cars in his collection)

(Tommy doesn’t know that the idea was his mother’s, his father didn’t know what to get him)

all of his cars have padding in the back for his dogs

Tommy hates purse dogs, the girls with them are always fake and horrible

but he wishes his dogs were that small

Easy to transport

but they got all gangly limbs like him

and stand up to his hip

Henry is his sleek black classic mustang convertable

its what he drives when he doesn't want to be followed by the papp

It’s what he drives when he takes The BT to lunch

its not that the paparazzi doesn't know its him

they know

but he's not in one of his bright fucking obscene cars

The press and Tommy have a weird sort of understanding

He creates their headlines and they let him have moments to himself

If someone breaches that

They risk getting blacklisted

that car was what he drove to his grandmother's funeral in

im not naming his grandmother, but all royals live like forever

Clementine barely sees the road I think

She’s kept in top condition

By Tommy’s own hands

But she probably doesn’t get driven to the parties

Or the brunches

Or the clubs

She's used pretty much exclusively for black tie events

Tubbo is his driver for those Bc he trusts no one else with the car

And he has to exit her before she’s parked

So Tubbo valets and then meets him inside

It’s also how Tubbo gets into the black tie events

so its modern right

so its like thousand-dollar suits instead of capes

so, Tommy just refuses to wear blazers and suit jackets

he always wears his button-ups rolled to his elbows

Maybe, maybe you’ll get him in a vest

But most of the time it’s a button up, rolled up sleeves, and the tie is most likely incorrect or untied

The only reason it’s correct half the time, is because Wilbur makes him let him tie it

Tommy won't wear the jacket because he prefers to roll his sleeves up - he's able to do anything, party or just like rough housing with his brothers, or helping out the staff

Wilbur won't wear a tie, or a button up most days, opting for a high-end sweater and loads of jewelry; its just much more his style.

Techno won't wear a vest because it restricts the places he can hid weapons, and he almost never keeps his tie tied.

Tommy trying to walk past Wilbur to leave with and untied tie

“Wait! You know you can’t leave like that, come here.”

Tommy’s groans and slumps over but walks over to Wil anyways

“I’m just gonna untie it halfway through the party, you know i will.”

“Well, I’m not letting my little brother walk a red carpet with an untied tie, you know I won’t”

The second half said in a mocking tone of voice, very clearly mimicking Tommy’s whining

It’s a soft moment, they stand there together, brothers

And as Wilbur’s pat the finished tie, they make eye contact and both of them have undeniably fond looks on their faces, damn they’re brothers n shit

“Thanks Wil.”

It’s quiet, it’s soft, it’s Tommy

“Of course.”

Just as soft, just as quiet, wholly Wilbur

Wilbur clears his throat breaking the soft atmosphere of the room

“Now go, you gremlin. Don’t be late”

Wilbur ruffles Tommy’s hair, careful not to mess it up too much

Tommy rolls his eyes And quickly heads for the door “Bye Wil! Love you! Don’t wait up!” Wilbur quickly yells after him

“Love you too! Don’t do anything stupid!”

“Oh Wil you know I can’t promise that!” Wilbur just rolls his eyes and returns to his book

Yeah Tommy stays away from tobacco I think

Just weed

and I wouldn't be surprised if like hits peoples vapes sometimes, but doesn't smoke cigs

for sure, its stressful

Wilbur smokes cigarettes though

and he can't act out like Tommy can

and Phil loves him..

Techno and Wilbur watching Tommy rebel in the ways they never got to

They feel kinda sad, that they never got to be kids like that, sad that Tommy feels like he has to act out for attention

he gets to do shit

like he gets to be a real teen

the whole, dumb rich 17 year old experience

like yachts, and expensive hotel rooms, and sport cars

And sure they probably wouldn’t have been going to frat parties or crashing brunch places, but they see him with BT

See him have actual friends

And they’re happy for him

But it hurts a bit

And Tommy's hurting too

It's a lot

but its like

even if Phil wasn't shit

its a lot of attention

like everyone is watching them at all times

Techno and Wilbur have to stay refined in the eyes of the press

Tommy gets to put on a show for them

Yeah yeah

Do you know how much a drunk picture of Prince Tommy is worth?

Too much

Some random guy on his first paparazzi job, gets a pic of Tommy, shirt mostly unbuttoned, tie tied around his head, drinking out of a beer bottle, and flipping off the camera while stumbling out of the most expensive hotel in the UK

The guy never has to work again

Purpled son of some billionaire, and Ranboo a literal prince is with him

They are both laughing at him

Tommy swung on a chandelier that night

A picture of that ends up online, some socialites Twitter

The amount of people in her dms for that picture?

Ludicrous

Like just the random pictures from Snapchat stories

Magazines pay thousands

Yeah the amount of double takes people have done going through their friends Snapchat stories like

Just tapping through

“WAIT WAS THAT PRINCE THOMAS????”

So, Dessert Drinks

It’s alcoholic beverages that have like chocolate or gram crackers or maybe candy in them

That are meant to taste like a dessert

So there’s chocolate cake margaritas, or like s’mores drinks

They’re Tommy’s favorite things in the world

Everyone thinks that he’d like the like strong, burning, whiskey esk stuff

But no

He wants the sweetest thing you got

Like he’ll drink straught vodka, but not if he doesn’t have too y’know?

He also like wine strangely enough

The like really expensive wine

Bc it reminds him of Wil

They have it down in the cellar

Techno is the whiskey dude

Or like 1942

Which is just a really bougie tequila

He just likes the shit that burns

Tubbo will drink literally anything

He’ll eat anything too

It definitely comes from the spot that he didn’t have that many choices like Tommy, but he genuinely just likes anything

Which is why Tommy really likes to treat him out to fancy fucking restaurants

One of Tommy’s favorite past times is spoiling his loved one

Fucking loves giving presents n shit

It's his love language

Ranboo doesn’t pay for anything when he’s visiting

Tommy insists on paying

Tommy has millions from the throne, he will use it

Plus he uses his daddy’s card so like, Phil can afford to spend the money

Oh he has one of those black cards doesn’t he

And by he I mean Phil

But you know, Daddy’s card

Black amex all the way

Boujie motherfuckers

Tommy's drunk like persona is different depending on the environment

When its Wilbur and Techno having to deal with Drunk Tommy

He’s like an excitable puppy, he would switch from rowdy to sappy real quick for his brothers

So they’re trying to get a drunk Tommy to bed but Tommy’s 100% clinging to them

Just full of affection

Techno tries to leave to go study and drunk Tommy just looks so fucking sad

Kicked puppy

He’s very much turning on the little brother charm, full scale pouting, whining, nicknames and all

making grabby hands, sitting on thr ground, fluffed up hair, shirt all wrinkled

"Fucking - fine. What are you gonna do without me, hm?"

He’s a god damned puppy and it’s hard to believe this is the same kid who got in a bar fight last week

he hangs off the chandeliers of boogie hotels

he also trashes his friend's rentals

on the other hand, he hugs his brothers

and steals Wilbur's crown

when he wears Will's crown it goes over his eyes

Still does after all these years

He’s grown but Wils head is simply too big

Tommy has his own crown of course

he just doesn't wear it as often as Wilbru does

Wilbur wears his all of the time

Tommy wears his when

A. he's drunk and with friends

B. at formal or royal events

he likes wearing it when he's partying

still thinking about drunk Tommy and his brothers having to deal with him

He makes techno give him a piggy back ride

He can walk fine, he just wants a piggy back ride man

Can you blame him?

They all really miss being little

They miss being able to be kids n shit

when their mother took care of them

and their father did all the king shit

And when Techno would give Tommy piggyback rides in the garden

When Wilbur had all the time in the world to learn how to play guitar

Even if it comes from Tommy getting drunk off his ass they’re glad they can still find the childish joy that they once had y’know?

Techno gives Tommy a piggy back ride to his room, and Tommy steals Wilbur’s crown and they talk and it’s nice

And as everything winds down Wilbur plays his guitar

And it’s so similar to when they were younger man

...

but then,,, Wilbur gets called down for an emergency meeting

and Techno has to make sure the guards are doing their rounds

and Tommy's left all alone in The Prince's Chambers

and people wonder why Tommy likes partying

fills the time, doesn't it?

He wakes up cold and alone and hungover

And he calls Tubbo and they just fucking day drink man

It’s a bad two days

Yeha but basically after this night he and Tubbo get fucking drunk as hell and they don’t come back to the castle for two days

And Tommy is barely sober during those two days

After those type of days happen Tommy always goes completely straightedge for a week

He doenst need to develop an addiction y’know?

Plus the chaos doesn’t have to happen drunk

He’s pretty irrational sober anywyas

half of the parties he's at he's not even drunk

sometimes he'll get high

but he just likes the adrenaline

and just hanging and being fucking assholes with his mates

POV you are an emotionally wrecked prince who is hanging onto this present as proof that your dad knows who you are at least in the slightest and you find out it’s not actually a gift from him but something your mother told him to get you

He didn’t even think twice just called the dealership and asked for the car, didn’t even know which one it was

mmmmm Tommy wrecks Clem that night

It’s not a good night for anyone

Got drunk as hell man

No dd

Car crash

I don’t think Clem is totaled

And Tommy is ok

But she’s scratched and dented and it’s just a representation of how Tommy feels

Something about Clementine being symbolic of hope and the idea that his father knew him

And with that crashing down

Clementine was bound to crash too

Tommy gets out with some bruises and Clementine can be fixed

But it happens on a public street so it’s everywhere

Tommy wrecks Clem

Then fucking goes on a bender

just destroys shit

parties so he doesn't think about it

and then he fucking crashes

Wilbur and Techno and Kristin all know what the car meant to him, what it symbolized to him

So when there’s a headline and a picture of Tommy staring at a wrecked Clem, they don’t know how to feel

maybe he mentioned something about upgrading Clem to Phil, or offhandedly at family dinner

And Phil asks something like “Right and when did you get this one?” Very rudely y’know

And Tommy’s like, it’s the one you got me for my birthday last year, and Phil just says something about how he has to be more specific because he doesn’t even know which one that is

And Tommy feels everything crumble around him and he just tensely says, “never mind...” and goes back to his food

The other three watch the whole exchange like, “fuuuuuuuuuck”

And then as soon as dinners over Tommy’s out the door man

He’s gone

he doesn't take the dogs, which means he's causing damage

He doenst even take Tubbo

they can hear the handler hand Tommy the keys

Tubbo comes to Wil to ask if he knew where Tommy was and that’s when they realize Tommy’s going out to cause real damage

And Tommy’s phone is turned off

They can’t contact him

Tommy gets handcuffed

he won't get arrested, but he'll get brought back in a police car

he fucking like crashed into a poll on purpose

like it was less on purpose and more like he definitely wasn’t not trying to hit something

And then they fucking breathalyzer him and he’s drunk as balls

Straight vodka type night

there's a bottle in the cupholder

He gets out when he wrecks and you just see him dead eyed staring at the scratches on her hood

The dent in her door

The cracks in the windshield

And he just takes a swig of the bottle

He lets the police take the bottle and handcuff him, taking him back to the palace

Clem is towed back too

He doenst care man

this is bigger than party to distract Bc it’s all he’s thinking about even drunk n shit

So I feel like he’s absolutely crushed

he spends like a week or two in a depressive episode won't leave his room, won't talk to his dad

and then he asks his mom "why didn't you tell me?"

and she just purses her lips and and shakes her head

and he's out

he needs to leave

he doesn't need her pity

and he just goes to Purp's and parties

because he just wants to have fun for one night before he learns that everything is a lie

His brothers are there as much as he lets them be

Tubbo too

Ranboo would try to make it over after seeing the headlines

he gets on a jet

and goes as soon as he sees the news

cause Clem was Tommy's baby

He loved that fucking car man

And then

Boom

One dinner is all it took to ruin everything

Phil's just left like "what'd I do?"

Techno is straight faced

Wilbur rolls his eyes at Phil

And Kristin just looks stressed

She’s still staring the the door Tommy all but ran out of

none of them finish dinner, Kristin waves the butlers over to clear the plates

They don’t, and Phil is just so confused and frustrated and he doesn’t know what happened

Top 10 Prince Tommy Headlines: 10. Mourning or Disrespectful: Prince Thomas caught smoking outside grandmother's funeral 9. New Connections? Prince Thomas and Prince Ranboo seen outside Palace walking Royal Dogs 8. Protective Older Brother; Crown Prince William shielding Prince Thomas from cameras while walking down London streets 7. When Will He Stop? Prince Thomas continues his week-long bender 6. Another Frat Party: Prince Thomas found stumbling drunk after rowdy night at The Ritz London 5. Boy Crazy? Prince Thomas and Mystery Boy seen dancing at Crown Prince William's Birthday Ball 4. Is Prince Thomas's Rampage Over? The Prince seen hungover, nursing a coffee at London Branch Costa Coffee 3. Time to stop; Prince Thomas caught doing cocaine at socialites party 2. A good friend - Prince Thomas flew to the United States to help Prince Ranboo with new responsibilities

1. When is enough, enough? Prince Thomas crashes after driving drunk, arrested.

10 Tommy doesn’t smoke cigs so mans was just getting high at his grandmas funeral

he was real close with his granny, it was a sad day

It was because his father said something like “oh, I didn’t know you were coming Tommy”

It was his fucking grandmother Phil

Tommy just puts his sun glasses on, and sits as far away as he can

Number 5, the boy is Tubbo, Tubbo thinks it’s fucking hilarious, Tommy is pissed

Some of those headlines seem like they’re from the car month

Obviously number one is

But then the bender headline

Then the coffee one

And then the Wilbur one

They seem like a series of events

big month for the press

Tommys hungover and he calls Wil asking for him to pick him up

And Wilbur drops everything Bc he’s just glad Tommy’s coming back home

wilbur fucking glares at the cameras

Tommy's used to it

And then the press tries to mob them and Wilbur Almost breaks decorum

Like almost fucking yells at someone who gets too close

and Wilbur never does that

he's so in-line

he never breaks the rules

but goddamn if they take one step closer -

He’s been especially stressed, and all he wants is to get his baby brother home man

He’s been smoking a lot more since the wreck

He just wishes he could make everything better

Tommy relishes in talking to the press

Wilbur will clart someone who gets to close to his baby brother

The press who’s never seen Wilbur as anything other than composed and charming suddenly being faced with a very angry older brother who smells slightly like cigarette smoke

Wilbur in the Pogtopia coat but it’s some designer piece that’s expensive as hell

It’s his smoking coat

And it’s what he picks Tommy up in

So he smells like smoke

And not the tasteful cologne he usually wears in public

just like a dark overcoat

really expensive wool

Wilbur using it to cover them from the cameras

when they were younger, like 16 and 12, Wilbur would hide Tommy

like no one got a picture of Tommy until he was 14 or 15

Kristin really hid the boys when they were kids too

Tommy trying to peak out and make faces at the camera

it was illegal to get pictures of them younger than 10

like immediate blacklist

And also maybe some legal issues

Wilbur pulls Tommy's hood up over Tommy's head

And it’s very older brother of him too, he pulls it over to protect his face but then cinches the strings to be a little shit

Those Wilbur and Tommy brother moments comps exists in the universe too

But it’s just shit like that

Tommy has a great support system

He really does

His brothers love him

His mom loves him

He has two amazing friends and a bunch of other great friends as well

And sometimes he feels like a brat for throwing all these fits over his dad y’know?

Wilbur always tries to like, keep an arm around him when they're doing red carpets

And keeps Tommy sitting next to him at Royal events

but also like, steals food off his plate

and ruffles his hair

Tommy whispers the fucking worst jokes about the dignitaries and nobles and Wilbur has to keep a straight face

god thats tommys favorite thing to do

he tries so hard to get Wilbur to laugh and lose his shit

The fucking big boobs bit

But it’s Tommy whispering it to Wilbur completely out of context and randomly at a gala

ALSO

THE WHOLE EXTENDED FAMILY BULLSHIT

TOMMY HATES IT

LIKE WHO THE FUCK IS THIS LIKE AUNT TO HIM?

HE DOESNT KNOW HER

But Royal Families are always big on that shiit

They try to hug him n shit

And Tommy depending on how Brave n shit he’s feeling (how fed up he is) will either politely excuse himself or straight up say no and step back with a glare

he's honestly uncomfortable around the strangers

who say they're family

like he's too sober for this

He needs a god damned drink

But he’s in a vest and a nice tie and his crown is sat proper on his head

And he can’t have a drink

god he's like a little doll, he plays by Phil's rules

the crown comes on and he's the proper prince

He fucking hates it

he sips on Wilbur's wine, and does the whole "tequila for water" thing sometimes

Flask in his sleeve

Techno catches him with the flask once and is just impressed

god is that a look on Techno's face

He sees Tommy slip it from his sleeve and somehow sleight off hand take a drink

And it’s just a raised eyebrow and a head nod that says

Good for you

Bc techno also needs a drink during these events

Sometimes Tommy will spike his and Techno's drinks

as Wilbur regally sips on wine

Wilbur fucking also secretly wishing he had a flask during the drier events

Wine drink just isn’t enough sometimes

Wilbur puts on his best face

and pretends he wants to be there

and gives out a warm smile, and raises a glass

god he fucking hates it sometimes

and sometimes he loves it

but man, does he hate it sometimes

Tommy complains and Phil makes a passive aggressive comment about how

“Oh but don’t you love parties Tommy.”

Wilbur sits between them

The table goes

Techno Kristin Phil Wilbur Tommy

Tommy just sneaks another sip of the flask

he doesn't have time to deal with his dads shit

Slumps back in the seat

He probably wouldn’t even try to hide it after that

Not like Phil is actually looking at him

He can let the press have it

He doenst care

just like leaves the flask next to him

under teh table

and jsut takes large swigs from it

Tommy maybe having a group of his friends crash one of the stuffy events

Not an important one

So fucking dedication ceremony to some inane building

He just invites a wild group of socialites

It’s nice

It’s not as wild as a normal Tommy Innit party

But it’s not a stuffy fucking boring ass royal meeting

they just bring some fucking whiskey into the back room and chat shit

Tommy fucking has a group of friends crash this gathering

It’s not wild

But it’s not stuffy

It’s nice

Tommy even drags Wilbur back for at least a little

and that takes a whole lot of work

It really does, Wilbur isn’t even a little tipsy off the wine, and Phil been by him the whole time and it’s just been hell, he can’t get wiobur away from the “socializing” hes doing

but when Wilbur is a bit tipsy he just becomes more charasmatic

truly a king

Less someone putting on a mask for their father

A little bit more authentic

he's a natural, sipping wine with one hand, and shaking hands with the other, crown propped beautifully on his head, million dollar suits hanging off his frame

It’s nice to see his brother in his element

its a bit sad

but its nice

A little yeah, Wilbur’s

Wilbur’s leaving him, not really but

Wilbur being king is-

It’s going to be hard

Different

More than it is already

Wilbur will always love him

But eventually he’ll be too busy for Tommy

Just like Phil is

And it hurts

But that thought is what makes Tommy take a drink of his flask and drag Wilbur to the back room

Wilbur doesn’t have to forget him yet

Tommy looks real regal too

Wilbur wishes that Tommy could see what he sees

But he knows that Tommy’s self worth issues would take more than a nice hug and some warm words to fix

Tommy looks regal, and the gold crown really fits with the whole golden boy aesthetic

and he laughs, and makes conversation with everyome

and everyone eases up around him

Wilbur wishes that Tommy saw what he sees

also

Tommy and Ranboo's texts have been leaked once

Wow so many dog pictures dude

but also

:sparkles:state secrets:sparkles:

That was hell to clean up

it fucking was

it used petnames (which the public is never supposed to know about the nickanmes of royals fun fact)

and said shit about Phil

and detailed Fundy's illness which isn't public

and talked about meetings that Wilbur forced Tommy to attend

Tommy was terrified

Ranboo too

He was so scared someone would be angry at him for it

He doesn’t think he could handle be yelled at for this thing that wasn’t even his fault

like of course he could've not said it over text

but one of his best friends lives an ocean away

and his life is just all about secrets

dont make this something too

:sparkles: hackers :sparkles:

if someone god a hold of Tommy's IP, or Phone, or Phone number

or

dms

they could be using instagram, twitter, or snapchat to have some of these converstaions

dms can get leaked real easily

Mmmm you ever think about Crime Bous

Because all I can think about is when Wilbur does get out of the house, and just like every event they go to

Tommy isn’t a fucking party boy then, he’s just Prince Thomas, Crown Prince William’s baby brother

And they always get photographed and shit

But they have a great time

They’re always smiling when they’re together

Sans Wilbur being a really protective older brother, and when their grandmother died

It’s nice to just go get lunch together at that one specific cafe they’ve been going to for years

Or just walk the dogs together

Just hang out and be brothers

They sit at the same table every time, and Tommy has gotten a Raspberry Lemonade since he was 8

When they walk the dogs, Wilbur holds Walter and Tommy holds Betty

Sunglasses on, big wool overcoats, and pants that were sewn just for them

And they’re seen walking out on the streets during big events a lot too

To like take a breather

Tommy has made a habit of allowing the press to ask him questions whenever they find him

Wilbur on the other hand always knows exactly what to say to press that come up to them

He always shoos them off with a polite “we won’t be answering any question right now thank you” and a blinding smile

And Tommy’s making a face at the press from over his shoulder

Either like sticking his tongue out or making some sort of face at Wilbur

As he gets older, he stops doing it as much because it gets a bit tiring, everything is tiring

But he does it every once in a while, usually a sharp grin over Wilbur’s shoulder accompanied by a middle finger

when like press sees that Wilbur smokes like a lot

hm

big thin

and I feel like Wilbur would straight up be like "its not a big deal, its completely legal"

and hes like smoking 8 cigs a day, but its fine

He doesn’t have an issue

It’s just a little stress relief

King at 21 is a lot to handle

and maybe the stress is so much that it becomes a problem

but hey its his relief

its legal

he's fine

That’s Wilbur’s mantra most of the time

he falls asleep in Tommys bed a lot, waiting for the teen to come home

wilbur does

he finishes a pack, and sighs, rubbing his eyes

The empire is on the brink of war, it always is

He looks in Tommy's room, its empty

And he sits on the bed, waiting

10 minutes later he's asleep

The sheets don’t smell like Wilbur, and Wil thinks that’s what makes it’s so comforting

They don’t stink of nicotine or Wilbur cologne

The smell like Tommy

and while that smell like expensive booze, and coconut shampoo

its perfect

and the dogs are in Tommy's room too

he's a little less alone

Betty is the cuddler

She’ll come up and sleep next to Wil

but she wont do it to just anyone

its a bond, its trust

its the fact that Tommy likes Wilbur

she growls at Phil

she nudges at Kristin, LOVES kristin

anyways

its lonely and sad

because Tommy usually doesnt come back

Tommy snakes back in early in the morning and tucks Wilbur in

Though most times Wilbur falls asleep in Tommys bed

Uncovered

Completely dressed

He’s lucky bettys fur is sleek otherwise his very expensive clothes would be covered

I think Wilbur more often then not will wake up with Tommy in his arms, and that makes him very happy

like, Tommy comes it at 5am, and just snuggles next to Wilbur

It’s makes Tommy sad to know his brother is waiting up for him to never come

But at the same time he’s always so happy to see him when he gets home

I imagine sometimes butlers come to get Wilbur for work, and Tommy makes them leave so that Wilbur can sleep in "Hello your highness, we came to fetch King Wilbur for his morning briefing" "He's sleeping." "Well, I can see that Your Highness -" "So let him sleep." "Prince Thomas -" "Let. Him. Sleep. Okay?" "Yes, Your Highness."

I've decided that Tommy is the big spoon

in these vulranable moments, when Wilbur is weak, Tommy kind of holds him

like obviously there are a lot of tims, where Wilbur wants to hold his baby brother

however, Tommy kind of holds Wilbur, like wraps himself around Wilbur, and puts Wilbur's head in the crook of his neck

this happens when Tommy comes home to find Wilbur in his bed

either this, or Tommy curls into a ball and rests his head against wilburs chest

Tommy has daddy issues

Wilbur has the weiht of the world

Techno has ptsd

Phil: fuck you my kids are completely fine!

Wilbur’s nicotine addiction

Tommys abandonment issues

Technos fucking PTSD

Once, when the empires war was getting really, really bad, and Wilbur had to decide life or death shit

He smoked a whole pack in a day

And then just kept going

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking

why wouldn't they stop fucking shaking

Tommy stopped partying that week, he isn’t ignorant, nor a fucking dick

He was Wilbur’s right hand for as long as he needed him

Despite how badly he wanted to party until he could see straight

His brother needed him

His king needed him

And he will gladly serve Wilbur as long as he would have him

He stood right behind Wilbur

Every decision

He was right behind him

Even if it meant constant decorum and constant royal dress, Tommy was there

And that was a grounding fact

If Tommy hadn’t been there Wilbur thinks he may have lost it that week

Sometimes the only thing that kept Wilbur’s hands from shaking terribly was holding Tommy’s hands

When the advisors and court had left

Tommy would take Wilbur hands and make him do breathing exercises

Wilbur wasn’t allowed to look anywhere other than Tommy’s eyes

They would get through this

Together

They would, Tommy would make sure of it

Tommy in the room also made everyone a bit nervous and loosen up around Wilbur though

Because sometimes they act like they can boss Will around

And Tommy is stone faced, and has the media wrapped around his finger

The court knows that all it would take is one “scandalous statement” from Prince Thomas to end their careers

Wilbur could fire them, but he’s stressed

Any other day, he’s a fucking FORCE to recon with

But Tommy? He’s here to ensure the best or their careers would end

And you know that Tommy has at least 3 sources in the biggest news outlets in the empire

He could get ANYTHING out there

Wilbur’s throne is the biggest in the middle

Two thrones smaller aside him

Within the like office / study / planning room

Tommy's hasn't been used until just then

Tommy finds it quite uncomfy

But he can deal

Also Tommy drops the nicknames for the week or so

No “Big Man”

It was “Will” and “William”

Your Majesty at one or two points

But that felt a little too formal for both of them

Too alienating

Tommy learned a whole fucking lot of fucking politics that week

Not that he didnt listen in his lessons it’s just that

Well

He can’t not listen if he’s not there

It’s different IRL too

Seeing all the decisions

It’s terrifying

And he’s exhausted

Dressing nicely and talking for 12 hours a day about politics

And life / death decisions

So many cuddles dude

Just permanently cuddling if they’re not presently working or “coping”

And I think

That although Wilbur is the one who’s going through it

When they cuddle, Wilbur likes to hold Tommy

Just in the sense that Tommy’s here and safe

In the midst of all the death around Wilbur

He needs to know that his person, his kid is alright

Plus having this one thing this one routine helps him feel a little on control during this out of hand time

:sparkles: Prince Tommy PR leak :sparkles:

I talked about how Tommy was close to his grandmother

and how he was smoking outside of her funeral

maybe it was during that time in his life

really dark place in his mind

smoked and drank every day

Wilbur smoked a lot during that time yet

they probably drank together a few times

like straight up vodka

Just they’re so young and so tired

and so its like, pictures of Wilbur and Tommy (and just Tommy) drinking in the parlor, and in the like, bar area of their private living area, dark eye bags, red eyes, just straight from the bottle

Both of their ties were undone, no jackets, sleeves rolled up to their elbows, Wilbur's top 3 buttons are undone, they're both like manspreading

like they're just at their lowest, particularly Tommy, but Wilbur was having an adjacent bad time

Tommy's hair is a fuckin' mess

HOWEVER, they're both still clean shaven, neither of their shorts or trousers are wrinkled or stained

They may be going through it, but the royal image waits for no one

How does the castle react? Immediate lock down.

Interrogations or some shit

none of the princes are allowed to leave

they have to do clean up

they write scripts essentially for Tommy and Wilbur to adress the press

they need to send out a memo that they don't agree with underage drinking

its all structured, scripted, and written by advisors (and their father)

major damage control

which is just not what Tommy needs right now, because he's like trying to work through his grief

and Wilbur has a fucking fight with his father about that

Phil does not care

They fucked up

Someone else fucked up

And now they’re going to be big boys and fix it Like Phil's going to Tommy's room to get him to look over what his quick press tour and Wilbur jsut stops him in front of the door "He's fucking grieving - Let him have a moment will you? Don't you know how close he was with Gran?" "You messed up. He messed up. Now you're gonna be big boys and fix it." “You’re horrible sometimes you know that?” “I am your father” “Then act like it, your majesty”

meanwhile Tommy: in bed, hasn't slept, major depressive spiral, cuddling Betty, Walter standing guard at his door, holding onto a blanket that his grandmother gave him

just - can't even cry anymore

just empty

Literally just despondent

Staring at the ceiling as Betty noses his face

like good luck getting to get up, let alone read shit

He hasn’t showered in days

He is very much not presentable

like it's only been a week or two since his grandmother's death

and he still is processing

He is no where near done grieving

#tommyinnit #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #philza minecraft #philza #technoblade #tubbo #ranboo #SBI #sleepy bois inc #sleepyboisinc #LILLYS NEW AU #THE KING THE WARRIOR AND THE PRINCE #long post

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 24.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

A/N: Really really huge thank you to my queen @xjoonchildx​ for making me the newspaper clippings. I love them so much! This is one of my favorite chapters because of how fun it looks! And as always I couldn’t have done it without @ladyartemesia​ and @ppersonna​

Yoongi takes a deep breath, letting the September air fill his lungs. Who knew life could be so fucking trying?

He turns his head to you, hearing your soft footsteps down the marble stairs. He notices the small splotches of paint on your skin and it fills him with a sense of calm. You're a sight for sore eyes.

"My baby," he breathes, leaving his glass of whisky on the outdoor patio and walking back into the mansion to be with you.

"I'm all dirty," you mumble, picking at the dried paint on your hands.

"I can make you dirtier." your fiance quips and you give him a lopsided grin at his joke.

His joke doesn't match his mood and your eyebrows furrow as his arms wrap around you.

You know just how stressed he is. You know just how much his heart hurts everyday that Sera refuses to sign the divorce papers. It wouldn't be nearly as bad if you didn't seem to be growing more and more everyday.

His chin rests atop your head and he stares past you to the two marble staircases that lead up to either wing.

Even though Sera is no longer here and she's in the guest house with Jin and your dog, her ghost seems to haunt the CEO at every turn.

"I want to buy a new house." he grumbles, pulling away and looking down at you.

"Why?" you ask softly, running your hands lovingly over his arms.

"This house fills me with nothing but bad memories. I see the leech everywhere I turn… I hate that. I want a fresh start." he admits, caressing your distended sides.

You hum in agreement. "Is it too much for you right now? You have so much on your plate. Let's look for a house together when we get married," you suggest.

Just the thought of marrying you makes his heart flip inside of his chest. The thought of holding you in his arms everyday until his last is miraculous and special.

"When we buy the new house, you can decorate it any way you want." he promises.

"Oh, I plan on it." you reply, pulling him towards the stairs.

"Where are we going?" he asks curiously, letting you take him with you.

"You need a distraction, baby boy."

He shivers at your tone, how strict it is. A small smile spreads over his face as he trudges up the stairs with you. "Yes, Mistress. I do."

"Jin?!" Sera calls, dropping her bags down at the front of the guest house.

She promised him she'd try and she thinks she's doing well so far. She only complains thirty percent of the day which is a lot better than the eighty percent she's used to. She's even held her tongue a few times when Jin has told her he's going to hang out with Leena.

"I'm getting ready for work, mouse." he calls back from upstairs.

His velvet voice fills her with joy and she rushes up the stairs without a second thought.

"Can I come with you?" she begs, peeking into his bedroom.

His hands wrap and tug at his tie as he turns to her with a raised eyebrow.

"No. You're still married." he states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She scoffs gently, wrinkling her nose. There's something about how quick and dexterous his fingers are as he ties his tie that sends her stomach coiling.

He still hasn't had sex with her and he hasn't even kissed her after that fated day when she begged him to stay with her.

"Why not?" she whines softly, leaning against the door jamb.

Seokjin chuckles gently, rolling his eyes. "Because you won't sign the divorce papers, like a normal person." he announces.

"Why do you keep bringing it up?! It's always 'divorce this or divorce that,' aren't you tired of saying it yet?" the actress cries out.

Jin grabs his suit jacket, sighing so loudly that it scares the woman behind him.

"Yes, actually. I am tired of saying it. You should just do it."

"But why? It has nothing to do with you." she mumbles.

Turning to her, he tilts his head. "Yes it does. If you don't get divorced, I'm not staying with you. I'm not going to be the guy that makes another man a fucking cuckold. I don't want that, that's fucking disgusting. There's nothing for you in your marriage anymore. You don't get any money, you've been cut off, you don't love Yoongi, you don't even care! So why are you being so stubborn about signing a damn paper?"

She looks down at the floor, playing with the ends of her hair, not wanting to answer.

"Because you're spiteful," Jin answers for her, "but your spite is literally making my pregnant best friend sick. She's a nervous wreck because of you, Sera. I hate that. You have everything in the world you could possibly want. And you can't just sign a few fucking papers?"

Jin whistles for Gaesu as he squeezes past the actress in the doorway.

"I just-"

"You don't want to give up something because you're greedy. Yeah, I get it. You want others to be miserable because you've always been miserable your whole life," he turns to her, cupping her soft face and staring down into her amber eyes, "You don't need to continue to be an asshole. You need to focus on becoming a better fucking person. Not everything needs your input, sometimes you can just let everything go and you can start again on your own. Like now, you don't want to be with Yoongi, you want to be with me. And I see that you're trying, you're doing great so far. But I can only work with you as long as you work with me. And you still being married isn't working with me. It's the opposite."

She swallows thickly, looking up into his blazened mocha irises. He's so serious that it sends a shiver down her spine. When she whimpers gently, whether it's out of need or fear that he'll leave, he brushes his soft thumbs against the apples of her cheek.

"When you sign the papers, I'll sleep in your bed." he promises, pulling away.

She blinks once, twice, three times, watching him walk away from her.

Gaesu follows closely behind your best friend, excited to go to work with him.

"S-So I can't come to the club?!" she calls leaning over the banister.

"No, mouse, Leena will be there and I'm spending the night with her." Jin calls back, grabbing his car keys.

"What?! She touched you in front of me and you're just going to hang out with her again?!" she screams, hanging over the banister.

"One. Be careful, you might hurt yourself. And two, I'm sorry to break it to you but Leena has touched me so many times that her touch feels normal to me at this point. My best friend coming to hang out with me is perfectly fine. And what's more, her boyfriend will be there." your best friend calls back, opening the front door and leaving without another word.

"Fine. We'll see," Sera seethes through her teeth, walking towards her room.

Stepping into Miyoung's art studio, the natural light that bleeds through the glass ceiling really seems to highlight all of the paintings that line the walls.

"Well, if it isn't the famous artist in my very midst." Miyoung quips, stepping down the slightly curved staircase.

You smile up at the pretty woman, leaning against the wall with two coffee cups in hand.

You can see how Yoongi was always fond of Miyoung at a young age, she's beautiful and quirky with everything she does. Even her clothes scream unique and you love that.

The brown French beret that hangs from the side of her head and the long blue corduroy dress she has on screams artistry and you adore it.

"Brought you some coffee," you quip, holding up one.

"You shouldn't be drinking coffee, pregnant lady." she jeers, finally reaching the ground floor and wrapping her arms around you.

"Mine is decaf, thank you very much." you joke back, accepting the hug with open arms.

When you both turn to the walls of art where your paintings were, it's surprising to see the walls almost empty.

The people that walk to and fro with their hands respectfully behind their make your heart bloom with pride.

"Do you wanna know how much money you've made?" Miyoung whispers in your ear, a playful smile spreading on her face.

You roll your eyes, nudging her with your hip. "You know I don't care about that stuff."

"That's why you'll make tons of money." she murmurs back, earning a laugh from you.

People notice you easily when you laugh, turning to you with wide eyes. It's a bit strange to be recognized now because of the Dispatch pictures and it's even stranger when they begin to approach like they know you.

Yoongi's best friend from childhood doesn't stand for it for a second and within seconds she's fending them off with a polite smile.

"Pregnant women don't like to be crowded, if you have any questions about art, please come to me. I'm very in touch with the woman beside me." Miyoung announces, waving her hands for the people to move back.

When she shows you to the art gallery office, it feels like an out of body experience. "There were so many people." you breathe out, sitting down on the loveseat beside her large desk.

"You became famous pretty much overnight. What do you expect? People are salivating for more of your art." she announces, sipping her coffee.

It's such a bizarre thing to hear when you've only ever done painting as a hobby.

"Should I start making more art, you think?" you inquire, crossing your legs and leaning back into the comfy couch.

She hums, tilting her head. "No. I don't think so. I think you make people wait for more. Obviously not too long. But it's good to get people curious and excited for what you're going to do next, y'know? Finish the art for the mall and hotel. Have the baby and then start making more art. You've made millions of dollars on the thirty pieces you've released. That's enough to get people really excited for the next release."

You nod understandingly, letting your eyes drift over the two paintings you've created for her office.

"You're my most successful client ever. I'm proud of it." Miyoung says, making you giggle.

Your heart feels warm in her presence and you can understand why your fiance has always been fond of her. She's an amazing woman.

"Call Minho to help you get downstairs when you're ready."

"Is that necessary?" you quip, sipping your coffee.

"Of course! You're famous now." she gasps, leaning over her glass desk with a playful smile.

Yoongi sighs loudly, throwing his suit pants into his luggage.

He hasn't been able to relax for a single second. He can only pray that paparazzi in Japan aren't as desperate as Koreans.

Staring down at the multitude of watches that spin on their platforms, he gets lost in his worries.

You're giving birth in only three months time. How is he going to cope? What kind of father is he going to be? Is he going to live up to what he wants? Are you going to be proud of him?

He's so worried.

But he's more worried about the leech. When the fuck is she going to sign that goddamn paper?

He opted for platonic parting rather than suing, because it would be messier that way but Sera is so spiteful that he doesn't know what to expect. He knows Jin is trying his hardest to rein her in but who knows how long that will take. It's nerve wracking to say the least.

Yoongi's eyes flutter shut as your arms wrap around him like needy vines. The feeling of your rotund belly against his back has him sighing so softly it barely reaches your ears.

"How are the paintings coming?" he asks gently, turning around in your grasp to cup your face with both hands.

"They're almost finished." you reply, hugging him tightly.

He hums sweetly, letting his lips drift over your forehead. "Have you packed for Japan?" he murmurs, letting the sweet scent of your lavender shampoo enrapture his senses.

"I packed a little this morning, but I got caught up in my inspiration. I have to finish." you announce, putting your cheek to his bare chest.

The warmth of you against his body is so welcome during his time of uneasiness. "I'll help you pack. Just hold me for a little while. It feels good." your fiance breathes out, squeezing his eyes closed tighter.

You're so comfortable within his arms, you have no intention of moving. You can feel his rapid heartbeat and you know exactly why he's on edge but you don't bring it up.

Late nights in your post-coital glow, you've talked extensively about both of your worries and you've come to the realization that they're the same fears.

"I'm going to have to stay inside in Japan, aren't I?" you quip, looking up at him.

He snorts gently, putting his chin on the top of your head. "Probably yes. Does that upset you? I bought out the penthouse so there's a lot for you to do."

His voice is wrapped with guilt but you decide to not dwell on it. Just going somewhere with him is enough for you. You don't care if you have to stay inside, it'll be nice to leave the country for the first time with him by your side.

"Plus, y'know, soon you'll be too big to go anywhere. That's what the doctor said." he whispers.

You smile into his chest, accepting his soft voice. "I know. I'm happy to be going anywhere with you."

His thumb and index finger capture your chin, he tilts your head up so your eyes meet. It's so easy to fall into his mocha irises and the smile that spreads over your lips is so natural. When he bends down, your breath stutters in your throat and the feel of his lips on yours is something so sensational, there are no words that could describe this.

"I love you, little dove."

"I love you too."

Jin should have known Sera wouldn't take kindly to Leena showing up at the club. But he didn't think she would go so far as to show up to the club.

She looks completely terrifying sitting in her booth. She's alone and completely menacing. Even with all of the people around she can find Seokjin in a matter of seconds no matter where he goes and he doesn't know whether to find it attractive or completely scary.

"She's staring at you again," Leena quips, leaning deeper into Taehyung's embrace.

Seokjin hums in agreement, looking down at his Italian leather shoes.

"Just go talk to her or some shit. She's making me uncomfortable," Leena whines, nudging her best friend.

Jin looks over at the actress and he sighs loudly. Her eyes are narrowed at him and her lips are parted over the champagne glass in her hand.

When he stands, he can see her body go rigid with excitement.

"Good luck, bro." Taehyung laughs, kissing over his girlfriend's exposed shoulder.

It's a quick walk over to Sera's booth as Jin wades through the groups of people on the dance floor.

When he steps up to the platform, he can see how nervous she is.

"Why did you come? You know that's trouble." he chides her, sitting down in the booth.

"Because she was coming." she sneers, nodding her head to Leena.

The eye roll Jin gives is so severe that it sends chills down Sera's spine.

"You came all the way here, got snapped by the paparazzi, ordered thousands of dollars of alcohol, because you were jealous that Leena is here?! You're such a baby." he scoffs, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

"I just wanted to be here with you too," she admits meekly.

Jin looks her over before zipping up her dress to cover her exposed cleavage. "Behave tonight. Do you understand me, Kim Sera? I'm tired of having to worm my way out of awkward situations."

She nods gently and when she gets a small smile from him it makes her pride expand tenfold.

"Will you sleep in bed with me tonight?" she asks softly, sliding down the booth to be beside him.

He snorts gently, letting his arms expend over the top of the seat. "Not until you sign the papers. You know this. Don't push your luck." he chides, poking her cheek softly.

She pouts gently, looking down at the hem of her dress.

"All I have to do is sign the papers and you'll be with me?" she asks unsurely.

Jin hums in agreement, pushing some hair behind her ear. "All you have to do is free Yoongi from this marriage and you can have me." he promises.

Her cheeks puff out as she thinks, is anything ever really that simple? She's never found it to be so.

"I'll think about it." she breathes out.

That's good enough for Jin at the moment and for the first time in a long time he smiles widely at her. The expression is so blinding that her heart stutters in the recesses of her chest.

Yoongi is so completely thrilled when he throws both of your luggages to the penthouse floor.

"Wow," you breathe out, rushing over to the large windows.

Your fiance's smile is sweet and soft as he folds his arms, leaning against the gold wall.

The scenery that meets your eyes is indescribably beautiful. The way the gentle breeze in the Osaka air blows cherry blossom petals from their trees and the countless gardens that scatter the grounds below set such mysticality into your bones.

"There's an infinity pool up here for us. It's warm," Yoongi announces, walking towards you.

Your hand lands on your stomach as you watch the petals blow in the breeze. "This is beautiful," you say aloud.

The father of your child's lips are soft against the back of your neck and in your entrancement, you hadn't even heard him come close to you.

"You're beautiful. Anything for you, little dove." he promises, placing both of his hands on your stomach.

The stress seems to melt away as you stare out the window with your fiance behind you. His lips are soft and plush against the column of your neck and it wipes your mind completely blank.

When your fingers card through his hair, the gentle puft of air that warms your neck makes your legs weaker.

"I love you." Yoongi breathes.

There's nothing sexual about his touch, it's just pure passion that seems to bleed through his fingertips. But the feeling of him so close is so heavenly.

The soft classical music that plays throughout the large room is so peaceful and your worries float away for just a little while.

Next Chapter ------>

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer​, @imluckybitches​, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland​, @rspbrryy​, @iv-bts​, @bambuzlee​, @chanelbts​, @mxxngxdss​, @bluewhale52​, @milesjeon11​, @diamonddia-mond​, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97​, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn​, @bts-7beauts​, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace​, @eclectically-esoteric​, @nikkiordonez12​, @kaitswrld​, @skamlover200​, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria​, @jikooksgirl19​, @hobbledehoy26​, @singular-itae​, @dchimminie​, @lowlifeoeuvre​, @sugaslittlekookies​, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth​, @softysuho​, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​, @betysotelo18​​, @jeonmisha​​, @iwanttohitmyself​​, @ayyyocee​​, @neverthefirstchoice​​, @itsbangtanoclock​​, @little7bitchh​​, @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​, @deathkat657​​, @firstlovesuga-93​​, @namjoonia​​, @paperpurple​​, @muzikabijou​​, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites​​, @kleff03​​, @ruinsofangels​​, @brightwingr5​​, @leekanchol​​, @rkivemagic​​, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside​​, @melaninkpops​​, @y00ngisbabygirl​​, @ungodlyjoon​​, @prochnost513​​, @dunixxd​​, @athenakyle​​, @igotnotype​​, @chxmachxps​​, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog​, @alpaca1612​, @ohcarolinamin​, @thegreatestsushi​​, @eltrain80​​, @btsmylife21​​, @deeepvibes​​, @httpminyg​​, @deliciouslydisturbed365​​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​​, @preciouschimine​​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​​, @kooafraid​​, @ladykadyrova​​, @singjisu​​, @yazanii​​, @moonlitmyg​​, @justzeera​​, @absolutefantrash​​, @whocaresarchives​​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​​, @bt21chim​​, @flowerboyhobi​​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​​

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

#third wheeling #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #yoongi x you #ceo!bts #ceo!yoongi #ceo!au #bts fic #min yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #smut

[narrators-journal]

Illumi's family arranged for him to marry the daughter of a famous murderous family, his fiancee has the personality of Violet Evergarden, they have a son together, but before Illumi finds out about the child, she breaks up the marriage! 5 years later he found out about the prodigy son, what would his reaction be? Would he try to get custody of the child or would he force the reader to remarry and start a family? (Illumi Yandere obsessive)

So, I had a bit of fun and made this a little scenario! Though, to answer your question, he'd force reader-chan to remarry him and play family. I hope you enjoy this little ditty!

To be fair, betrothal had a track record for being somewhat fickle in the longevity department, Illumi could admit that. He'd wanted his marriage to you to take after his own parents' relationship, long lasting, happy, stable. However, you had been stubbornly independent from the first day he'd met you when he was 12, all because you had come from your own well off, assassin-trained family. That fact had pissed him off as a child, it'd annoyed him the most as a teen, because at 16 you were particularly enthusiastic with your defiance of his rules and commands, and it hadn't sat well with him when you finally officially married him, but he'd tried to negotiate with you and keep the peace. You obey him, he won't use his needles on you, win-win.

Guess not, since about a year into the arrangement, you'd been able to worm your way through a loophole that let you divorce him. Hence why you were currently playing a nasty game of tag.

That was something of the last straw for Illumi. He could learn to manage you going against his rules, he could put up with your stubborn personality and spiteful refusal to give up birth control, but he would never allow his wife to just walk out on him. So, when you'd vanished, he of course went looking for you, which was a hassle and a half since you were trained to work in his line of business. So, he tried not to be annoyed when his hunt lasted for a few years, but it really did eat at him.

I'm about to just declare (y/n) dead and find a new wife. He thought one day, five years into his hunt, while he trudged around a shop with his mother's list of demands in hand. As time had gone on, Kikyo Zoldyck, Illumi's mom, had made a habit out of sending him personally to grocery shop so he would stop fuming around the estate. So, dressed in one of his sweatshirts and some shorts, Illumi was standing in a store, grumpily musing over what to do about his runaway wife while finding the stuff his mother asked for. Suddenly, just as he turned down another aisle, he spotted a strange child all alone in the pathway, looking down at some candy.        "Where are your parents?" he asked, and when the boy looked up at him, his eyes narrowed. He was looking back into his own dark, bottomless eyes. "Where is your mother?" he asked again, his voice somewhere between calm and tense, but the child acted as if he didn't hear any of the malice in Illumi's voice, just turning and running off down the aisle with his chosen candy in hand.

Swiftly, Illumi put his own shopping down and went after him, following the young boy down a few aisles before losing him in a small crowd. So, the man huffed, clenching his fist and repressing the hot rage coursing through his veins before returning to his shopping and just going to buy everything he had, his mother would have to send a butler to finish the list later. However, while standing in line, stewing in his frustration, confusion, and wrath at the potential answers he was thinking up to explain the odd child, the long haired assassin struck a gold mine of luck. Out of the corner of his eye, walking towards the exit, he spotted the familiar puppy-patterned shirt of the toddler he'd seen earlier, but this time said child was holding onto the hand of a woman.

So, acting quickly, he put his things down again and went after the duo, catching up to them and grabbing the woman by the wrist when they were outside in the parking lot.           "Hey!" you snapped, whirling around to face Illumi, that sickly familiar look of aggression instantly giving you away,           "(y/n)." Your name was curt and rather inexpressive, but Illumi's aura held all of the underlying meaning and threat he needed for your narrowed, (e/c) eyes to flit through a multitude of emotions. Terror, anger, back to fear, than back to anger, and finally, a cold, hateful, calm.           "Can the Zoldycks really not afford a dictionary? We're divorced Illumi, you have no right to bother me." you hissed, yanking your wrist out of his bruising hold while inching your son behind you.           "We can talk about the 'divorce' later, as for my rights, I have quite a few when it comes to my child." He pointed out, glancing down to the dark-eyed child behind you, getting an evil look in response,           "He isn't your kid, fucker. You're not the only man I've slept with, stupid." you shot back, barring your teeth at the murderer-for-hire.

For a long moment, the two of you stared one another down. Both were obviously pissed and full of malice, but with a small child that could likely be Illumi's so close, neither could express that aggression, whether it be through their auras or a vitriolic fight. So, they were somewhat stuck in a stalemate until Gotoh broke the tension,           "Master Illumi, would you like some assistance?" He offered, bringing to your attention that you were caged in by two butlers and Illumi. To make things worse for you, Illumi caught that realization in your body language and relaxed a bit knowing he'd finally got you back.            "Let's just go home. Gotoh, call the doctor for a DNA test, I'll need it for the kid." Illumi said, breaking the hateful staring contest he'd been in with you to once again look at the small, (your hair color) boy you were doing your best to keep from him.           "Fuck off, Illumi, I'm leaving." You snapped, refusing to give in without at least a tiny fight, which the man understood, but he refused to let you go again.           "That's where we're going, (y/n), home." he assured, and before you could argue again or attack him, Gotoh put a hand on your shoulder and firmly led you to the car, letting Illumi follow, in a far better mood now.

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