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jeongyunhoed · 4 months

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The third and final story in the 100-Day trilogy, taking place four years after the events of The 100-Day Relationship and two years since the events of I Do. When the patriarch of the Choi family suffers a heart attack, the entire clan decides to visit the estate in the hopes of getting in his good graces and parts of his fortune before he passes. Seonghwa and Juhyun now find themselves clashing with nosy relatives who threaten to split them up and have her removed from any possible inheritance.

Inheritance

Member: Seonghwa Pairing: Seonghwa/OC Genre: I’m going to say angst-fluff, drama, intrigue. Things to note: Art Curator!Hwa, a lot of crazy rich stuff again (for real, this will have A LOT), and perhaps some adult-y things.

Watch out!: More drama ahead. Marital arguments, hidden cameras because bitchy relatives and worse exes paired together make a horrible combination.

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long. I kind of steered away from Kpop for a bit but I managed to unclog my brain enough to be able to write this chapter. Tag list is open as always.

Tag list: @kflixnet , @treasure-hwa

Masterlist

Chapter 4

The news of the Choi patriarch’s death spread to the news outlets almost immediately, partly due to Daeyoung’s acquaintances at one of the newspaper outlets in both Japan and Korea. The article reporting of the death took up more ad space in the obituary section, much to Daeyoung’s liking. It led to Jongmin and Hyunwoo insisting that the wake and the funeral be held completely private, away from the prying eyes of the media.

“Choi Hyungsuk, the head of one of the country’s wealthiest families, passed away of natural causes this week. The chaebol is survived by his three children; Choi Hyunwoo, Choi Jongmin, and Choi Seonak, eight grandchildren, and three great grandchildren. The CEO position of the family’s company is now undetermined with the patriarch’s shares up for grabs.”

Hyunwoo put down the newspapers after reading the article that morning, shooting a glare toward his son, who seemed especially pleased with what he did over breakfast. “Did you really have to make this all a show?” He asked.

Daeyoung shook his head. “I didn’t write it that way, I just told my contacts the points that needed to be mentioned,” He said. “The shares grandpa owns are public information, father. In every country he’s got properties in.”

“You do realize that the country we have been living in has inheritance taxes, right? If anything, the only one squandering whatever money we have just so happens to be my only son,” Hyunwoo frowned. “Have those investors of yours been delivering on what they said they’d do anyway?”

“Father, you sound as if uncle Jongmin is the one who will get grandpa’s shares when we all know that you, the eldest in your family, will rightfully receive all of those, however much grandpa still owns in the company,” Daeyoung pointed out.

Hyunwoo knew his son had a point, but there was none in trying to explain how he honestly had no care for it. Hyunwoo was always more than happy to receive whatever he could for as long as he had a place in the company – he would always assure his family that having less of those shares meant having less of a burden. His wife, while relieved that he felt that way, always had that underlying concern that one day, Hyunwoo might see things from Daeyoung’s point of view, or even from Seonak’s point of view.

Despite Daeyoung’s insistence on flaunting their wealth, Hyunwoo and Jina knew that at the end of the day, they are still much better off now than if they got more. Jina, who also came from old money (her family owns one of the country’s major banks that have branches in several countries), knew to teach her children to be content and happy while striving for more purpose in the world. Both Hyunwoo and Jina had even questioned at one point if Daeyoung was really their son and not Seonak’s.

“I don’t think it’s the right time to think about the family business, it’s important to take some time to grieve properly, isn’t it?” Jina said while taking a sip of her tea. “We must all be present at the wake later, Eunhyung and the rest of the staff are making the preparations while we’ve done all we could for the rest. If there are reporters present, no comment as always.”

Daeyoung and Hyemin exchanged looks. “But, mom-” Hyemin tried to interject. “With all due respect, I think the people should at least know-”

“Know what, Hyemin?” Hyunwoo spoke again, making her sit up straight, falling silent. “They know what they need to know. There’s no other news. They’ve already brought up how my father’s shares at the company are up for grabs, that’s all the media circus this is going to get.”

Soohyuk, who had been quiet this whole time, excused himself and brought his plate and cup out from the dining area, passing it to the helper who was nearby and quickly went down to place it in the kitchen. Having heard what happened that drove Juhyun and Seonghwa to leave the estate and return to the city, Soohyuk returned to his room and packed his things. They were all set to leave the estate anyway until the day they would be called to return for the will reading.

He had grown to see how his own parents were from an early age, just by observing how Daeyoung treated everyone and how Hyemin was with her own group of socialites that married richer husbands. Soohyuk had also gotten teased for his family’s wealth, but, like his other aunts and his much younger uncle, he shrugged it off. Daeyoung and Hyemin never even knew that Soohyuk worked for a university newspaper and that he was becoming interested in one of his classmates, a girl named Rie Tachibana, whom he got to see in their philosophy and literature classes.

Soohyuk could only imagine what his parents would say if they found out that he had asked her out. He knew they would grill Rie much like how Daeyoung and Seonak rounded on Seonghwa and Juhyun during the dinner. He took out his phone and glanced at the door before locking it. He didn’t want to be disturbed, much less get caught for now. Maybe when he proposed to Rie, he could, but not for now.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed and tapped his phone’s contacts, to her number. Soohyuk took a deep breath and tapped the video call feature, seeing it ring. Rie’s sudden appearance on his screen nearly made him fall over in surprise.

“Hello? Soohyuk-kun!” She said with a smile.

“H-hi,” Soohyuk smiled back, hoping that his cheeks weren’t red.

“What’s up? I still have to revise that article I’m doing on the school’s cheerleading squad. I heard you’re in Korea, but you seem to be in some hotel?” Rie asked.

Soohyuk shook his head. “It’s the ancestral home, but not really,” He said. He looked down for a moment. “I admit, I just wanted to call you after what’s been going on.”

“Oh-oh yeah, I’m sorry about your loss,” Rie’s tone softened. “I’d visit you if I could. The funeral’s going to be there, I presume?”

“Obviously,” Soohyuk chuckled. “But I could arrange for you to come here if you’d like.”

Rie raised a brow. “That’s a weird way of asking me out. We had a nice time before.”

“Well that was before,” Soohyuk tried to sound cool. “We did agree to another date, didn’t we?” He said, hoping that he wasn’t smiling so wide.

Rie nodded. “Yes we did. When you get back, maybe we could have dinner again, without talking about the newspaper or homework or any of those lectures,” She pointed out.

“Deal,” Soohyuk nodded.

Rie nodded as well. “Must be nice to live like you, huh?” She said, looking a little wistful. “Don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Soohyuk shook his head. “It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

There was a knock on the door and Soohyuk could only wave at Rie before hanging up. He rushed to unlock and open the door and saw Sangmin come in, holding his gaming console. “Soohyuk hyung! Want to play some Mario Kart?” He asked.

Soohyuk shook his head. “Only for a little bit. I’m packing up to leave.”

Sangmin’s head tilted and he looked at the older male with slight concern. “You’re leaving too?” He asked.

“Oh, yes, yes, aren’t we all? Shouldn’t you be packing to go home?” He asked.

Sangmin nodded. “I already did it. I knew we were going to leave the moment Juhyun noona and Seonghwa hyung left the other day.”

Soohyuk let out an exasperated sigh. “Ah right. You think aunt Seonak drove great grandpa to his death?” He grinned.

The younger male laughed out loud. “I wouldn’t be surprised. So, Mario Kart?”

Soohyuk nodded. “Alright, grand prix, okay?” He said, following Sangmin out of the room. He would much rather focus on a confusing race track than have to deal with his own family at the moment.

While most of the public took little notice of the Choi patriarch’s passing, the news was arguably the most important among society circles in Korea. Many trust fund bachelors were already making bets as to which Choi family member would take the lead – as Juhyun’s father was the one in Korea and was therefore more public, he was the most obvious choice. Hyunwoo was second place. Seonak wasn’t given a passing thought given that she was based in Switzerland and hadn’t set foot in Seoul, more less Jinju, for years since moving to Geneva.

Even Seonghwa’s family was aware of what was happening, and in turn, sought to travel to the funeral hall where the wake was being held to pay their respects. Seonghwa’s grandmother, whom had viewed Juhyun’s grandfather as a best friend in recent years since their reunion, was especially saddened yet she wasn’t crying. Seonghwa knew this from seeing her take a lot longer to move to the side after almost every visitor paid their respects.

It was an all-black affair, with some of the men looking rather tired – many would compare them to celebrities getting into trouble with the law and are in the midst of a court case. Hyunwoo’s comparison was accurate – that the news of the patriarch’s death was followed by a media circus.

Some politicians – Hyungsuk’s old colleagues or peers – had even arrived to pay their respects and give their condolences to Jongmin, Hyunwoo, and even Seonak. While Hyunwoo and Jongmin were grouped with the tired celebrities in terms of looks, Seonak looked as polished as ever. Maintaining the bob she had not long after the passing along with a full face of makeup. Hyemin of course, took after her aunt-in-law in a freshly-styled hairdo and a full beat.

Juhyun, on the other hand, looked as simple as she had always been – unintentionally meeting the criteria of what was popularly constituted as “quiet luxury.” Seonghwa knew that she had only thrown on the first things she saw in her dressers. She watched the visitors come up to the front, approach the portrait of her grandfather, then leave, but not without passing all of them to greet them briefly before really leaving the place.

She wasn’t particularly close with her grandfather over the years. As far as she knew, she only remembered afternoons when he would take her to the local supermarket and buy her snacks to eat for school in the coming week. Juhyun also remembered summers when she was a child, watching him hover over the cooks in the kitchen, not to criticize their way of cooking, but to ask them about it. It wasn’t something her grandmother approved, but the cooks were grateful nonetheless. They would rather have Hyungsuk than her grandmother hovering over them.

Whenever her grandmother would constantly ask them to pose for photos, the same kind, Juhyun remembered, her grandfather would call her out on it.

“Again?! We just took a lot of photos a few minutes ago!” She remembered him often saying.

When her grandmother died, it was still quite a somber affair. But Juhyun remembered Seonak asking who stands to also inherit parts of her wardrobe. Being the only child on her side of the family, Juhyun’s grandmother basically had everything she could ever ask for and more. Naturally, Seonak got most of her wardrobe, including her jewelry. Those never saw the light of day unless she planned on showing off to her friends, which was almost every week.

The rest of the wardrobe, made up of pieces that Seonak didn’t like or thought was garbage, ended up with Eunhyung. Hyungsuk, of course, did not object.

It was a tense greeting when Juhyun and Seonghwa showed up that day of the wake. She only nodded in acknowledgment when Jihyun and Bin arrived, only for Juhyun to pull Seonghwa away when they planned to approach them. The conversation at the estate was still fresh in her mind, and Juhyun felt like she needed to stand her ground in deciding that she would not attend the wedding unless Seonghwa was invited too.

“Do you think they can change their minds about your aunt’s condition of letting them get married in Geneva?” Seonghwa muttered to her as they walked to the side, a little away from the growing crowd and clusters of people stopping to send their condolences.

“I wouldn’t put it past them, but,” Juhyun sighed. “At this point, I’m starting not to care. If they want to stick with that, then so be it. It’ll save us the time and effort to clear our schedules.”

Seonghwa reached down to hold her hand, lacing their fingers together. “But Jihyun’s your sister,” He said.

“But you are my husband,” She countered with a squeeze of his hand. “I married you, which makes you more important than them to me.”

Seonghwa felt incredibly moved, but it didn’t take away the bit of guilt he felt for Juhyun missing out on Jihyun’s wedding because of him. He also knew Juhyun had a point. They were now more important to each other than everyone in their immediate families. He kissed her cheek and pulled away to get them some water.

As he approached the water cooler to fill two cups, he suddenly saw Seonak making her way over to him. Seonghwa tensed up, trying to make this as quick as possible only for the older woman to stop him. “Seonghwa, hello,” She said with a smile.

“Hello.”

A small smile appeared on her lips. “How are you finding all of this? The frenzy surrounding my father’s passing?” She said.

It’s a trap, he thought. Seonak’s trying to find his weakness. He needed to be careful. “Somber. He was a good man to have many friends come and see him,” Seonghwa replied, trying to be as polite and as formal as possible.

Seonak nodded, taking one of the cups of water from his hand and taking a sip. “Walk with me, will you?” She said, gesturing to the nearby hall where there hardly weren’t any people.

Seonghwa could feel his heart pound as he agreed. The anxiety was growing as he walked alongside Juhyun’s aunt. The very aunt she hated, along the empty hall. Juhyun was going to wonder where he had gone off. He refused to say another word unless she spoke.

And Seonak did. “You know, you could imagine my surprise when I found out that everyone else was invited to your wedding except for me,” She started, taking another sip of the water that was meant for Juhyun. “That’s quite disrespectful, you know.”

Seonghwa reminded himself even more that whatever he said next, Seonak may use against him. “Sorry,” He said, still keeping it as formal and as polite as possible. He somehow had a feeling she was anticipating that he get down on his knees to beg for her forgiveness, that he’d squeal. Seonghwa knew not to explain any further and keep it at that.

“But then again, I suppose it might be out of shame that Juhyun settled,” Seonak said with a simper as they walked. “That girl could potentially have everything, including a high quality husband.”

“...Excuse me?” Seonghwa blurted out.

But Seonak only chuckled, as if expecting the reaction. “Juhyun settled with you. She never got it into her head that she could do so much better, aim much higher. For gods’ sake, she was nearly propositioned by the English nobility. We could’ve had a duchess in this family.”

“What?” Seonghwa was trying to wrap his head around what the older woman was saying.

Seonak sighed, giving him an apologetic look. “Why even waste your time trying to fit in, Park Seonghwa? If there is one thing you should know, even now that both my parents are gone, you will never be enough,” She said.

There it was, Seonghwa thought, as he noticed Seonak take a folded wad of paper out of her purse and handed it over to him. “What’s this?” He said.

“Something for you to think about. I know it’s already been a few years,” Seonak said. “But there’s still time to make things right, let Juhyun be where she belongs. It’s not too late.”

Seonak walked off, tossing the now-empty cup of water into the dust bin. Seonghwa could feel the weight come off him, like the dark cloud had now left and dissipated. He remembered that Juhyun would be looking for him right about now. If anyone told her they saw him walk and talk with Seonak, Seonghwa knew she was going to be curious.

He looked down at the folded wad of papers she gave him. A nagging thought was beginning to surface in his mind. Seonghwa hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was, while he slowly unfolded the paper. The words printed at the top only confirmed his nagging thoughts. To make things worse, most of the paper had already been filled out with both their names.

Application for Uncontested Divorce

The executor of Hyungsuk’s will announced that the reading would be done a month later, and everyone left for their respective homes. In the case of Seonak and her family, she opted to remain in the estate while her two daughters and son-in-law stayed elsewhere. The funeral was held just as quickly and as privately, a ceremony amongst the immediate family that made up the entire Choi clan. The three children of the patriarch had only permitted guests and visitors, to pay their respects at the wake. Seonak especially saw to it that not even Seonghwa’s grandmother was invited.

Despite the trying time for the entire Choi clan, Juhyun still brought herself to work. Being in the office served as a welcome distraction from the family members she had to tolerate.She insisted on showing up for work even if Seonghwa told her that it was likely going to be fine for her not to show up for that same reason. Her doing so shocked the employees and supervisors that were part of the new division she was put in charge of: Cosmetics.

A board meeting to discuss the upcoming cosmetic exhibition later, Juhyun returned to her office. Seonghwa was suddenly waiting for her, sitting on the couch. “Hey,” He said, standing up when she closed the door behind her.

“Seonghwa? What brings you here?” She asked.

He was suddenly unsure of whether or not to say it. While he wanted to always be honest with Juhyun, what Seonak proposed he do would only cause them both harm. “I just wanted to see you, how you’re doing,” He took her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “It hasn’t been long, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, really. I’ve had time to process everything. Oddly I’m not so sad,” Juhyun said, looking up at her husband. “What about you? You really worried?” She raised a brow, sensing something different.

Seonghwa smiled. “I need to talk to you about something. It’s about what happened during the wake,” He said, letting go for them to sit down again.

“Oh? What happened at the wake? Did aunt Seonak give you another condescending look?” Juhyun frowned.

He shook his head. “No, it’s something different, actually. She said you were nearly propositioned by an English royal,” He revealed. That much he could say for now, he thought. “Did it really happen?” He was curious.

Juhyun stared at him for a moment. “She said that to you?” and he nodded. “Did he, really? As far as I know, I was sitting next to the woman he ultimately proposed to.”

It was Seonghwa’s turn to be confused. “...What?”

“Lord Oliver Montague of Mayfair,” Juhyun revealed. “I didn’t think he would actually propose to me all those years ago. It was early in college, before Jihan took notice of me. I kind of helped him when he was lost in Sanary-sur-Mer during the summer break, and he thanked me by inviting me to his family home.”

Seonghwa took note of every detail she revealed about the man, unsure whether to feel insecure or not. “Was he handsome?”

“He was good-looking, I admit,” Juhyun said, her expression falling slightly the more Seonghwa asked. “But he was more than 10 years older than me at the time, he wasn’t going to wait to start a family if he proposed to me. The woman I sat next to, her name was Monique Rahman, she ended up becoming his wife. Now she’s Lady Montague.”

“You seem so up-to-date with Lord Oliver’s whereabouts,” Seonghwa noticed.

Juhyun shook her head. “Not really. He just sends me a message every now and then, telling me what he’s been up to. He’s happily married to this day and good for him.”

“Oh, oh good, good for him,” Seonghwa nodded. “Sounds like a good guy.”

She studied his reaction. “Seonghwa…I married you. Aunt Seonak is trying to get into your head the way Rebecca was trying to get into mine,” She assured him, voice low.

“I know, I know,” He replied. His mind was racing. All he could think about was the wad of paper that he tucked under his desk at the museum. “I mean, we could’ve both settled with them, right? But we settled with each other.”

Juhyun raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

There it was, it felt like there was no way to stop what Seonghwa knew he was going to say. Juhyun sensed it too. “I mean, had you settled for that British Lord, and I with Rebecca even if she was the one who left me, we would’ve turned out very differently, right?”

“Seonghwa,” Juhyun stood up. “Are you hearing what you’re saying?”

“Loud and clear,” He stood up as well, a sigh escaping his lips this time. “Lord Oliver’s proposal seems too good to be true to pass on.”

“But I didn’t get proposed to by him, Seonghwa,” Juhyun argued, shaking her head. “I didn’t. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? Monique Rahman is Lady Montague, not me.”

Seonghwa felt like he was having a mental breakdown the more he pressed on the aristocrat. “You truly are fucking beautiful, you refuse to see that. No wonder you caught the attention of that British guy,” He said. He couldn’t help it. It was like trying to stop a leaking faucet but to no avail.

Juhyun was trying to wrap her head around the things Seonghwa was saying. “What are you accusing me of? You asked me about what Aunt Seonak told you, and I told you, there was nothing going on. I did say he was more than 10 years older than me, and he wouldn’t be waiting long to start a family if he proposed to me then and there,” She approached him and held his hands.

“Is that why you turned him down?”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Seonghwa,” She whispered. “I never had feelings for him. I didn’t look at him the way you think I did. And that was years ago, before I met Jihan. Why are you sounding like I cheated on you?”

Seonghwa sighed and rested his forehead on hers. “I can’t help but think that maybe you’re better off with someone who’s also old money like you-” He was cut off when she kissed him.

Juhyun felt her eyes welling up with tears that silently streamed down her face. She slowly pulled away, her forehead still resting on his. “I’m sorry my family’s like this,” She whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

That only made Seonghwa kiss her again. Juhyun didn’t have to apologize, and he knew that very well. But at this moment, he knew that he hurt her, just as much as he hurt himself. She kept whispering apologies as they lingered.

Juhyun felt like her heart was breaking. It felt like a wound being reopened for the whole world to see once again. She felt like no matter how much she tried to convince him, it wouldn’t do. She was just relieved that no one else was around, or at least overhearing this conversation outside. It was her idea in the first place to pretend that they were in a relationship. It was now making her think that had she not asked Seonghwa back then, things wouldn’t be this painful.

“It’s just as my fault for thinking that…” Seonghwa whispered against her lips.

“You wanted to find out if what aunt Seonak was saying was true,” Juhyun pointed out.

“I’m sorry too,” Seonghwa replied. “I’m so sorry too. You were right about your aunt after all.”

Juhyun nodded. “I know. She’s a real piece of work, isn’t she? She’s even tried to do that to every single niece and nephew she has, even her own kids. That’s her tactic.”

Just then, Juhyun and Seonghwa heard their phones buzz. It was an email.

Subject Line: Choi Juhyun x Park Seonghwa Hidden Camera

They glanced at each other, wondering whether or not to open it. Juhyun felt her heart stop when she went in to check the message itself.

Married couples should know better. Reputation’s in ruins once this gets out.

There was no signature, no indication of who it might have been. The sender of the message seemed like an automated one. Juhyun and Seonghwa viewed the video attachment. The video was mostly dark, yet it was in a familiar-looking room. The outlines of two people against the moonlit curtains of the room could be seen on the bed.

The sounds of a loud tapping soon filled the room alongside heavy breaths and soft whimpers. Juhyun and Seonghwa nearly dropped their phones as they immediately closed the attachments. Just when they thought it could get any worse.

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chronicallymargaret · 3 months

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the beginning

One morning in February of 2012, my mom had knocked on the door to wake me for breakfast and I told her I didn’t feel well. She went and grabbed the thermometer and it read 102℉. There was a sickness going around the high school at the time, so she told me to take some meds and rest. The next morning, my mom woke me up again to check my temperature and it had barely gone down. I stayed home again and followed the same regime. After my fever finally broke, my body didn’t feel right. I thought maybe I was just overly tired from being sick or maybe it was just the cold medicine wearing off. Eventually, I got to the point where I really didn’t think about the pain because I didn’t want to worry anyone. The family wounds were still healing from losing my first best friend, my grandpa, six years prior to cancer. Plus, I never liked people worrying about me because I knew that no matter what, I would always be okay - or so I thought.

High school was hard enough - let alone having a medical condition that not a single doctor in the tri-state area knew a single thing about. I kept my symptoms away from my parents for a very long time. Eventually, like most parents, they caught on that something wasn’t right with their kid. In December of 2012 along came the typical parental questions: “Margaret, are you doing drugs?” “Come on, kid, just tell me what’s going on with ya.” “Kiley Mae. Sit your ass down and start talking.” And then the never ending conversations and tears started to flow. I explained that, no - I was not doing drugs (I really was quite innocent here, Ma and Pops. Only a couple of times, I swear.). I finally broke down to my parents and told them the truth: Ever since that February morning in 2012, I’ve had a headache and chronic pain nearly every day.

Next thing I knew, my mom started researching and researching and more researching. She tried countless times to get clinics/doctors/specialists - you name it, she called them - to even listen to her. She called Mayo Clinic nearly EVERY DAY - practically begging on her hands and knees to fit me in to be seen by someone, anyone. She was my voice because no doctor or person took me seriously. I was “craving attention, a drama queen, drug addict/seeker, hypochondriac, lazy, not good enough, problematic, selfish, waste of money, time, and space.) I watched my dad’s hair slowly turn more and more gray as he worried about whether he should go to work to make money for the never-ending medical bills or go with his wife and daughter to find out the answers. (I hate how corporate America works. Since when has money become more important than one’s health? It’s disgusting and I wish we could change the system.) I watched my sister lack the attention from my parents that she deserved because they were constantly worried about me. (I am in no way, shape, or form calling out my parents. They have ALWAYS done their best in EVERY situation and that is why I am so proud to call them my parents - my heroes.) My high school friends secretively raised money to buy me a miniature pet pig to try to help make me feel better - my parents appreciated the kind gesture but said no because I needed to focus on my health. (I WILL own a pet pig one day - Dallas has already approved.

I have had a majority of my POTS symptoms under control over the last 10 years, but 2023 really screwed up my body. Due to all of the trauma and stress from not only everyday life, but miscarriages, surgeries, and mental health episodes as well - my body has been in FULL overdrive. I've been struggling trying to keep my life going and trying to ignore my health because I don’t want to give in to the fact that my POTS is getting WORSE and not better like I had been telling myself - and everyone I know - since the day I was diagnosed in July of 2012. Back then - yes, this was a frickin’ decade ago .. totally gross, I know. [“POTS was only seen in approximately 500,000 Americans. (https://www.aafp.org/pubs/afp/issues/2012/0901/p392.html)."] Imagine being 15 years old and you're a literal drop in the ocean of people who have something medically rare. What in the frick are the odds of that?

Flash forward to now, February 2024, I have nearly every symptom back plus new ones. My chronic symptoms are headaches - different intensities and locations, lightheadedness and dizziness, severe brain fog - I try not to drive on these days as I typically forget everything, insomnia, anxiety (omg .. I said the BIG “A” word), and depression (oooopps, I did it again bahaha). My new symptoms are: chronic abdominal pain - intensity and location has varied over approximately three months now, dry heaving, hot and cold intolerance (I told my work mom’s I feel like I’m going through menopause with how many hot flashes I have .. they giggled and said “Ohhh Kiley Mae, you have no idea what you’re in for - this is hardly nothing.” Also, can we talk about how important work relationships are? I love my work moms and work family - I’m very blessed on that front.), and vomiting.

The news that I learned today was that due to the dry heaving and vomiting, I now have a large hiatal hernia - part of my stomach is on top of my diaphragm. I’m currently waiting for a call to schedule a barium swallow test and I have a referral in with the University of Nebraska Medicine with a POTS specialist. I personally believe that I’m going to have chronic headaches and abdominal migraines - but I’m holding onto a little bit of hope that the doctor I currently have is going to confirm that the abdominal discomfort is from the hernia, not POTS. I plan on keeping this updated regularly because after I figure out what’s going on with me - I want to share my path of life so no one has to go through the medical trauma that I have.

Medical trauma is a huge part of not only who I am as a person but talking about it is the therapy that I am working through right now. I will eventually spill all of the emotions, but for today I’m going to talk about today. Because today was a very good day and I deserve to celebrate it.

My parents have become “snowbirds” and fly to southern Texas for the winter. Unfortunately, my endoscope ended up being scheduled while they were gone. I told my parents they didn’t have to come back home because it was a simple procedure, and everything was going to be okay. (Yes, I’m 27 and still take my parents to certain medical appointments because I’ve been hurt - I’m working on it.). I don’t know if it’s because I finally did it by myself or if the staff was told to be extra careful with me or what - but I had the most relaxing experience ever. No one looked at me like I was weird when I stated that I had POTS and would need an extra bag of saline. The first anesthetist actually shared with me that she also was diagnosed with POTS. I immediately got a smile on my face and asked if she was kidding. Coming from a small town, not very many people understood what my diagnosis is and again - I’ve been used to being a single drop in the ocean.

The anesthetist made sure to mark my charts and inform the rest of the care team my condition, what to expect, and what I would need after I woke back up. Anesthesia tends to send me into a flare up - especially with cutting off food and water after midnight. Once I got taken into the operating room, my actual anesthetist started asking me questions about POTS. He stated that he had heard of it, but only until recently. I started to explain how long I’ve had it. Then I just started word vomiting because this was a whole new experience for me - how I just want some answers but I’m sure they wouldn’t find anything. I had already come to terms with the abdominal migraines starting. He looked at me in the sincerest way and said, “Wow. You’re a strong woman. You’ve been through a lot but you’re so cool about it.” That statement right there hit me. I realized in that moment that, holy shit, I’ve persevered. I’ve climbed a huge hurdle today and I can’t wait to keep climbing.

If you've read this long - just know that I see you and I love you.

#chronic pain #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #chronic illness #mental health #medical trauma #ptsd #miscarriage

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mejomonster · 1 year

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Silent Reading, chapter 14. The psp scene. I have to say, I appreciate the Justice in the Dark show choices to show various things that (at least not this early in novel) are shown. Like pei su/fei du having dream flashbacks (and the cgi thats not needed but very cool in said dreams and flashbacks), Luo wenzhou actually finding fei du (rather than only Tao Rans verbal explanation in book and audio drama we get to see a full scene of the actual event within Tao rans narration which was just so visually pleasing and cool and the Light symbolism I could go On), the scene where Tao ran actually gives Fei du the psp. I'm just a softie for seeing flashback moments in general so I really appreciate the choice. Meanwhile. Book in general, as usual and part of why I love it, is so info dense with stuff it hints behind the already busy main situation:

Fei Du was of course present as well, though this time he had come purely as an outside observer and was unobtrusively standing behind Zhang Ting. When Luo Wenzhou saw him, he was wearing his beast in human clothing get-up, earbuds stuck in his ears, completely absorbed in playing a game on a very old model PSP.

Luo Wenzhou had meant to bundle up the forces of evil and throw them out, but when his gaze fell on Fei Du’s scratched-up old game machine, his expression suddenly relaxed. In a groundbreaking occurrence, he didn’t open his mouth to pick a fight; almost gently and peacefully, he strolled over beside Fei Du, taking a deep breath to mentally prepare himself—even if he saw the brat playing some violent and bloody assault game, he had determined he would maintain his emotional stability.

But after spending so much time preparing, when he looked over at the screen of Fei Du’s old game machine, he saw a crowd of charmingly naive “big-eyed lamps” running around—this domineering director-general was enthusiastically playing Patapon.

Luo Wenzhou held back until he got a “Game Over,” then slowly spoke: “It’s always perplexed me a little, why you’d hang out with Zhang Donglai and his ilk.”

Fei Du shot a glance at him and calmly stuck the game machine in his pocket. “Because I think he lives especially philosophically.”

Luo Wenzhou was unable to distinguish whether these words had a positive or negative connotation.

Fei Du waved a hand at Zhang Donglai, who was running over to him, turned to give Luo Wenzhou an artificial smile, then went to talk to Tao Ran.

(So much I love. How Luo being judgy about what games he plays has to do with caretaking him so long and over concerning that he even Has an opinion on fei dus game choices. That he instinctively Wants to not interrupt fei du even though it doesn't matter, this hint he made a Lot of choices when fei du was younger to try and go easy on him and give him the Lesser stresses of life and the escape moments rather than you know Fei Dus absolutely yikes living reality. Just so much History screams in Luos actions. Meanwhile? I actually love the comment on Zhang Donglan. I do wonder. Yeah he's stupid, he's rude, he's shallow and only into fucking and drinking and having fun like racing cars (which sure paid off for fei du needing to successfully handle car chases lmao). But he's also a rich fuerdai WITH NO trauma or at least not Fei Dus level. He's what fei du would have turned out like, maybe, if his dad had been decent and emotionally supportive and could've helped his mom instead of further harmed her. Fei du already does try to emulate Zhang donglai with frivolous spending, similar party habits, a lack of care if he wastes his family money away, and I do think he likes those traits or thinks there Must be a good point to them or he wouldn't emulate them So much.

After all Zhang ting the sister is respectable and not wasting around partying, fei du could've emulated her instead. Or people like her who are his peers. And he does emulate the cutthroat businessmen - people like his dad, for better or worse, people like Zhang tings boyfriend the murderer. But anyway my point is. I do think fei du appreciates the simplicity of Zhang donglan - he's honest, says and does what he wants, always let's people know honestly how he feels, and his goal is to enjoy himself. Fei du struggles to be emotionally open, probably admires it to some degree if he felt it was Safe for him to be open, he probably appreciates a friend so open so he isn't afraid of ulterior motives or being harmed. He really is just concerned with being happy, and i think fei du ultimately would like to learn to do that once his revenge and consuming NEED to keep dwelling on his moms death is completed. One day, if the task doesn't kill him, he will finish that task. And once he does, he'll need a new drive to live and new path to walk. I think while Zhang donglan seems almost innocently naive to fei du, I do think fei du wants to understand that perspective. Cause it's one he's never had. Even as a child he never had an innocent happy time with no worries and no fear. )

#silent reading #justice in the dark #lb

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stopdrunkdriving · 3 years

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The Why?

New Post has been published on https://www.drunkdriving.co.za/how-to-get-away-with-drunk-driving/

The Why?

This is an opinion piece (Persuasive/Argumentative) and not a Expository Article.

Well, I have never been a huge fan of drinking and honestly have never seen the point on wasting hundreds if not thousands of Rand’s in a single night on alcohol whilst I could be spending that money so much better on more exciting and better things, there are those who think drinking yourself till you “sober” again or passed out as the best feeling in the world! Ok, I might sound a little judgmental here, but why in the world would you wanna torture yourself so badly, with the headaches and humiliating yourself, not to mention the insane hangover the next day if you’re lucky not to end up in the ER whilst intoxicated or worse dead.

I have never been drunk before, don’t get me wrong I tried but stopped the moment the headaches got too much, I quickly learned that my body has a very small tolerance for alcohol, but then again I am definitely not someone that likes to torture themselves to fit into a crowd… I told a friend once I couldn’t get drunk coz of the headaches and she told me she also got headaches, so I asked her how did she get over it? Her plain and simple answer was I drank the headaches away. Wow, what a sad and desperate answer that is. I am not sure what her reason for drinking herself into a stupor was – was it maybe tryna fit in with the crowd, drink away the pain and suffering that she has experienced in her young life, losing the love of her life? Who knows?

Most older people can’t possibly fathom why young people would wanna drink their sorrows away, but there are still rare cases where young people have much bigger losses then you can imagine – the loss of a close family member such as a mother or father, the loss of a very close best friend (yes, young people are capable of loving someone deeply), I for one am someone who has lost more than a young person should ever have to experience in life. It’s hard and sometimes I still wanna stick my head in the sand like an ostrich and hope all my bad experiences and pain in life would just disappear. Alcohol and drugs to most people sounds like a great choice to turn to especially if you’re in bad company! But at the end of the day, you wake up with a severe hangover, have no clue what happened the previous day, your problems and pain are still with you and you end up just reaching for another bottle of alcohol to try get the pain to stop! Alcohol and drugs is not the answer or solution to life’s problems, in fact it is the opposite causing more problems and havoc in your life even if you don’t remember it!

Drinking to impress friends is insane! Have you ever thought that the friends encouraging you to drink with them have such a low self-esteem that they need someone to drink with them so they don’t have to feel lonely! Everybody is running away from something! Financial problems, work issues, personal problems, family drama etc. There is really nobody in this world that doesn’t have at least one skeleton in their closet haunting them! The problem is some can handle these skeletons better than others! So, your so called “friends” feed on your insecurity and convince you to have just one drink, well that’s where it starts… Once that drink is done they convince you to have a second and a third and before you know it you have drunk well over your own limitation.

The problem is not that you are drunk but that you have no clue of how to get home, because anybody you would trust getting you home is either drunk, asleep or your way to intoxicated and embarrassed to try talk to them! So, your only 2 options are sleep it off in your car (if you can) or take the stupid risk of driving home. If you’re lucky you might manage to get home safely, your first time is always the hardest and scariest! As you do it more often your confidence/arrogance grows and you become cockier the more you DRINK AND DRIVE, it becomes sort of like a funny and daring game. Trust me one day is one day, you’ll take it just a little bit too far… one day you might just slightly be off your a-game, you let your mind wonder, your more tired then you thought, you pass out behind the wheel – you lose control of your vehicle, your gauge is a little off and you ever so slightly steer to the wrong side or your foot becomes a little too heavy and you start accelerating… BANG!!!

Hopefully you crashed into a wall, a fence or even a tree only injuring or killing yourself. If you’re not so lucky… You have just taken someone’s only means of transport and ways of providing for their family, you killed, paralyzed or severely mauled a law abiding citizen – leaving them with months of recovery time or deep mourning. Drinking and driving has become somewhat of an unspoken SPORT in South Africans culture today! The exhilaration of not been caught whilst committing a CRIME has become too tempting for a lot of people young and old these days.

Next time you are tempted to go party at a club, bar or friends house think twice about how your gonna get home… Make sure you have a sober driver to get you home even if you only plan on having 1 or 2 drinks – 90% of the time it is not only 1 or 2 drinks but 6 -10 or more drinks, keep money aside and call an Uber or give your keys to the bartender and give him/her instructions to call you a cab or emergency contact when you have had a unlimited amount of drinks. For PETE sakes – put your PRIDE in your pocket – CALL YOUR MOM!

Be a REPSONSIBLE drinker – NO ONE SHOULD PAY FOR YOUR DRINKING PROBLEM!

#are you a drunk driver?#black out #drinking culture in Hluhluwe #drunk driver #drunk driving culture #drunk driving in south africa #drunk driving morals #I can't remember #I'm a drunk #Keep Drunks OFF the roads #South African Drunks #Tommie Abrams

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guesswewillfindout · 7 months

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So... I've taken a turn for the worse.

I've been trying to get my health under control all year because my inflammation markers are higher than they should be and I'm on a special diet and on medication. But I just keep getting worse. In late August, I got an MRI (MRIs really suck as an experience) and I got a lot worse. Like shooting nerve pain, burning nerve pain, dizziness, cannot drive, cannot lift things, can't sit or stand or walk for extended periods of time (60 minutes max), fatigue got worse, body aches got worse, couldn't sleep a lot due to pain, hard to focus on work, difficulty cooking and bathing and, in general, life.

I missed so many things. I had some fun things planned in September. I had to cancel all of them. I haven't been able to garden at all. I had to have my partner's sister and niece come over to clean the garage. I've gotten another MRI and been to a specialist and started a new medication and my rheumatologist is trying to convince insurance to let her increase my other medication.

Then, the tire on my car started getting low and I recognized a slow leak. We had to have the tire replaced. Then, a relay on the fridge went out and it was an entire drama because we couldn't figure out where the electrical burning smell was coming from at first. We finally figured it out through some deduction but the landlord couldn't get anyone to repair it quickly and we lost almost everything in the fridge and freezer. So money has been terrible.

I don't even want to get into all the family drama going on. I mostly go away and hide when anyone tries to bring me into it. I'm not getting into it. I can't right now and I don't think they'd be able to handle what I have to say if I did get into it.

Works not been fun. There's stuff going on there, too. And it's always nice when you feel terrible but are still working. And you have to be kind and respectful when more and more keeps getting piled on your plate and no one is listening to you.

Mostly, I just feel alone. I don't feel like I have anyone to talk to about what's going on. No one in my life gets this. I'm worried I won't get better. I'm doing all the right things: tests and medication and communication and physical therapy and talking to a counselor and trying to do self-care and eating healthy and not pushing too hard and keeping moving as much as I can. But I'm still worried. Because this is my life and my one body and my time. If there's anything I have a reasonable right to worry about, it's my health.

And I hate this. I hate being in my early 30s and not being able to spend time with people I care about or go kayaking or hike or get a dog or just pull weeds or scrub out the tub or carry laundry without feeling like I'm going to throw up and pass out. I hate that I've been missing out since my mid twenties. This isn't what I wanted or expected and "there's nothing for it". "It is what it is."

And I'm angry. I'm angry that a lot of other people don't have these problems. I have these problems. I don't want others to have them but I don't feel happy that I do have them. It doesn't feel balanced or fair. And I've been told my entire life that life is not fair. So don't bother reminding me. It feels like a punishment. But I didn't do anything to be punished. Or if I did...I apologize. I never meant whatever it was that got me here. I can do better. Just make it stop.

In the MRI today I was thinking about what I would give up to be healthy. What kind of magic deal with a sus character I'd make to not have these problems. I figured out there's a lot I'd give up. I wouldn't give up my cat or my partner. But I'd give up pretty much any food. I'd give up toes. Chop them off myself if that was part of the deal. I wouldn't hurt someone else because that's not right. It's not their fault and I wouldn't put it on anyone else. But I'd give up time. I'd give up years if only those years could be quality. And my partner hated hearing that because she wants me around for all the time she has. But that's how I feel. I get how people make those terrible, desperate deals in supernatural stories. Being chronically ill makes you feel desperate. Being in chronic pain makes you long for a time you can't even remember, a time without pain.

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starlingsrps · 8 months

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caroline devon/ruth dinardo schmidt, 33, rachel brosnahan

caroline is her middle name and she grew up on devon street so it's close enough to her real name. she hasn't been ruth since she was sixteen and frankly, it never suited her.

little ruthie was born smack in the middle of a passel of kids in a big italian family in pittsburgh in late 1918, a little souvenir from her father before he marched off to basic training, only to turn around and march right back without ever leaving the states. with two older siblings (trudy and robbie) and two younger (marie and john), there wasn't much for her. not much attention, not many rules, so no problem for her.

dance was about the only thing that she ever got any attention for and even then, she's pretty sure it was only because trudy went too. she was better at it than trudy and you bet your ass she basked in every single scrap of attention she got for it.

it shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone when she ran off the week after her sixteenth birthday with donnie schmidt from down the street but her family still managed. it's the most attention she ever got.

the new mr. and mrs. donald schmidt were supposed to end their journey in los angeles were ruthie would work as a hoofer for a bit before her big break (probably three months, tops) and donnie would manage her career. but they ran out of money near las vegas, thumbed it the rest of the way, and then decided to crash there for awhile. with some creative story telling, donnie got a job at the hoover dam and the newly christened caroline got a job at the pair-o-dice. of course she was eighteen why wouldn't she be?

caroline schmidt didn't flow very well so she ditched it for devon - sounded smoother. being a seventeen year old boy, donnie stomped off for the first time on a drunk and came back reeking of bathtub gin and cheap perfume and while she threw a lamp the first time, she eventually stopped giving a shit.

having a husband made her seem a that much older, that much wiser, and gave her that much more of a cover for the boyfriends she felt a lot better about having. donnie minded his business, she minded hers. and in a fucked up way, she really did love him for awhile there. the thought of divorcing him and either moving on on her own or going home to pittsburgh never crossed her mind. she was going to make it, one way or another. while she felt a lot better when the work was a little more legitimate, she also knew that taking her top off would pay the rent and being a prude wouldn't.

she was a damn good showgirl and worked her way up to solo work and stage assistant gigs for magicians and comedians. great legs, decent enough actress, amazing rack - really, the whole showgirl package. better jobs came around, better men and eventually she caught the eye of a studio executive named cal in 1943 who had come to el rancho for a long weekend of craps and women. caroline was starring in the floor show at the time and by the end of the weekend, she had a bruised ass (long story) and a ride to los angeles for a screen test.

donnie eventually followed - she felt bad about leaving a note and would have felt worse if he stayed behind. cal got him a job as a set painter and a bonus to keep his mouth shut.

caroline didn't set the world on fire at first and she knows it. what made her great in vegas didn't help her stand out much as a dancer in hollywood and she could deliver lines with some conviction but the less said about her first role, the better. after some acting classes and a little polish, she vastly improved and settled in nicely to supporting roles. cal got her a starring role in a weepy romantic drama but she found it all so goddamn embarrassing that she only made it through five minutes of the screening before she left to go get drunk.

1946 was her big year - she and cal ended things, donnie ran off to alaska and caroline started counting the days until she could file for divorce under abandonment, and she made her first movie with jack elliott. it wasn't much of a role - she had a bonnet, he murdered her, cut and print - but he became a huge part of her career and life and there's no one else she trusts or likes working with more.

turns out she had a knack for thrillers and horror and once her agent started booking her for those roles instead of comedy and romance, she finally hit her stride.

did the reno divorce from donnie in '48 help her reputation? eh, debatable. caroline is well aware that her time in las vegas could bite her in the ass at any time and there's only so much cal can keep a lid on. if it comes out that she stripped, it comes out that she stripped. she tries to keep a realistic viewpoint of it and refuses to be ashamed of anything she's ever done. it's a waste of time.

caroline is more than a great rack and set of legs - she also has beautiful eyes. she's tough and resourceful and doesn't do shit unless it's on her terms. it's landed her the label of being difficult to work with sometimes but if she's going to do anything at all, it's going to be done in a way she can be proud of.

#c: caroline devon

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marcholasmoth · 2 years

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OSRR: 2996

and it's done.

below is a long post. some of it is ranting about people. most of it is happy things and love for the con and my con family. proceed as you like. ☺️

i woke up this morning, put my watch on the charger, set another alarm, and went back to sleep for another hour or so. it was much needed.

got up, showered, collected myself and my things, and went in search for the things i needed for my final panel, and i went. i put out table covers, had someone grab the bulbs, and then got repeatedly frustrated because my "helpers" were less helpful than i'd hoped. when i say "put these out" i don't mean scatter the tiny packaged things on the table and call it a day. take them out. sort them. organize them. so that was fucking annoying.

and like. i have been having an extremely difficult time this entire con finding people with fine enough motor skills to do things within my threshold of acceptability. i found one person. one. out of everyone i know, one. and thank fuck i've known her a long time, because otherwise it would've been a problem. she was one of the people from my a cappella group at unh when i went there. it's nice because i get to see her every con. i need to hang out with her more. we're in our 30s now. we gotta hold onto that, yknow?

also because i'm literally in my 30s now, i don't have time for people who don't own up to their own bullshit. for people who cause drama because they happen to be unhappy people and can't communicate. do you not like how someone does something? talk to them about it. do you not want to be around someone who you feel has done you wrong? tell them. don't use other people as your intermediary because you can't fucking communicate. use your goddamn brain and use your words and write it down so you know what to say if you're anxious. don't expect people to read your mind. it costs no money to be nice to people. you think you have a thankless job? don't be a bitch to people, and maybe it won't be so thankless. take responsibility. plan around shortcomings you're aware of. don't have a license? plan trips. aren't getting somewhere until a lot later than you intended? let someone know and come up with an interim plan. don't fucking refuse to communicate and then bitch about how you're the only one doing anything. that's on you.

jesus christ.

i have no patience for this.

none of it.

on a different and better note, once said obnoxious-drama-causing person left, i could think again. fuck. my mental state is so much worse when they're around because i constantly have to think about them and how they'll react. they on about hating manipulative people and how others create unnecessary drama. look in the mirror. your acting like a teenager. you're not. get over it.

i should add that "could think again" is a very loose phrase. i still couldn't brain; these cells i've got here have been deep-fried so much this weekend.

so when i went back upstairs to work on my paper, i found the room with a handful of people gathered and chatting and having a good time, including the con guests. i eventually sat down and pulled up my laptop and realized that there was no possible way i was going to be able to write the paper i needed to before midnight. at first it was because i couldn't think of a topic. then it was because it was almost 10pm. so i gave up on it and sent an email to my professor.

but.

not before i made a new friend.

so as i was sitting there, trying to think of a paper topic, the conversation in the room was between a table of my friends and family and the guests we had this year. just hangin out. it was so fucking hilarious, i laughed so hard, and it was pretty great. one of the people we had as a guest was sitting across from me and as the others were talking, we made faces and shared reactions like "are you hearing this??" it was fucking hysterical. he came over to talk to me when he got up. i told him what i was writing (or trying to write) and he read what i had, which was the honest thoughts in my head as i tried to think. he thought it was incredible.

so i pulled up the STUPID essay i wrote last year. yknow, the precursor to the SMART essay i wrote? because i was panicking and had no clue what to write? well i pulled it up and he read it and he said it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen and that it needed to be in the world. so he's gonna do a narration of it and post it on the internet. this whole-ass monologue is gonna be voiced by major attaway and posted on the internet and im so excited. because holy shit. it's my favorite thing and i am honored to have a new friend. who's a voice actor. it's so cool.

and speaking of cool, let me just talk about joel for a minute.

(i will have you know now that i am not, in fact, drunk, nor have i had any alcohol in the last 24 hours to impair my reasoning.)

he's so fucking spectacular.

this isn't me drunkenly rambling about how cool my boyfriend is. this is me being incredibly proud of the man he is and the relationship that we have.

he's got an interview on tuesday. he's gonna talk to my professor, the regional CISO of minecast, about a job, his résumé, and work stuff in general. he supports me getting a job in dc once i'm done with my degree, and has a plan for himself if/when it happens. he wants to take over the con. he has plans for all of this stuff. he's had conversations and has been open and honest (as always) and i love everything about him. i'm so, so lucky to have him by my side as we go through everything. i have him, i have my con family, and i have people who love and appreciate me for the person i am. they are grateful for the things i do and do not expect things from me. they're kind and inclusive and considerate, they're honest and they say what they mean. there are of course a few expectations, but every bushel of blueberries has a bad few until you pick 'em out.

i'm happy. the con has gone well. i've had several pairs of people in almost all of my panels, and one of them gave me something - the girl was wearing a togepi pin and yesterday i said i loved it. it was star-shaped and super cute and it was awesome. today they gave me one just like it. i was so happy! i put it on immediately and i wore it all day. last night a girl gave me a bottle of super glue and made sure i drank water to stay hydrated. i've had really awesome people in my panels this year. i really have loved it. the stress and everything i go through is worth it when i see the people there enjoying themselves and creating things that they can keep. maybe sometime in the future i'll have a panel for like, making something small that is in demand in the area for people, like hats or something, and get together a big donation box for things to bring in so we can donate it to a local shelter or something because it's october in new england - winter is coming soon, and shelters everywhere are in need of supplies for people who are in need. and maybe we can help them, even just a little bit. so there's that. i'd like to do that if i can.

and after my terrarium panel today, i took a bunch of time to sort through and organize all of the arts and crafts things and make sure they were labeled properly. it was so organized. only a few cardboard boxes remain for arts and crafts. i have also started to make a list of things i'll need for next year so i'm ready for the con ahead of time. i'll also need to be able to access it easily because i have the most time-intensive hands-on needs-to-be-done-beforehand prep work of any department save for the actual scheduling and everything of the convention. plus as it stands, i'm still gonna be by myself, so i'll handle all interactions involving crafts, like the polymer clay lady or the cloudbreaker people and their steampunk stuff or what have you. regardless, im proud of myself and the work i do. i could be better at being less anxious, but i brought my teddy bear named harold with me. he's got a pokéball hoodie, so i thought it was appropriate for him to come along to the con. it was a good decision. so harold has been with me this weekend, which was nice. all of my attendees have been kind and supportive and understanding.

i love what i do here. i love this con. i love these people. i love this family. i wouldn't trade it for anything.

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #2000s #2900s #sunshine boy #con life

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jayswritings13 · 2 years

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Multi-fandom: What else can I do?

Song: What Else Can I Do? By Diane Guerrero and Stephanie Beatriz

Plot: Shedding their perfect image and family expectations, various characters truly discover how much of their life was for others and not for themselves, with some help and encouragement from you, of course.

Characters: Courtney (Total Drama), Samantha LaRussso (Cobra Kai), Adrien Agreste (Miraculous), Quinn Fabray (Glee), Pacifica Northwest (Gravity Falls), and Audrey Rose (Descendants)

Note: I have been listening to Encanto’s soundtrack on repeat since I saw the movie.

💗Masterlist | WIP Page

🎵What could I do if I just knew it didn't need to be perfect?🎵

Courtney (Total Drama)

Takes place after TDWT

Courtney was never too close to her parents

But she didn't have to be to feel the weight of their expectations and standards on her every time she walked into the kitchen, hopeful for their adoration and pride.

Though, she hasn't gotten it yet.

With both of her parents being in highly respected careers, Courtney knew from the young age of 5 that if she was going to capture their attention, she needed to be that.

She needed to be something big and intelligent.

It actually took a while for Courtney to land on lawyer, as for she was considering president or surgeon for the longest time

But with this big dream, came even bigger expectations from her parents.

Not that Courtney wasn't ready to meet the challenge, because she was.

Well, until Total Drama seemed to have ruined what she spent years working on.

She's spent years on that show being humiliated by Chris, Heather, Gwen, Duncan, Harold, Alejandro, etc...

She could probably go on forever.

"That show ruined me!"

"Court-"

"My parents won't even answer my calls! I'm their disappointment!"

"You don't know that Court!"

"They called and told me so the day after the first season finished airing, (Y/N)!" Courtney huffed, "I was 16! I only cared about winning the money! I only cared about Duncan back then! I have been trying so hard to get back into their good graces ever since the island. I was so close this season! I felt it!"

Silence.

You kept your eyes on Courtney's form, shaking from rage.

"Court, you don't need them." You said, slowly taking a step forward, and grabbing Courtney's fist in your hand, holding softly. "You're amazing. You don't need them. You don't need their judgement. If they can't accept you as you are, then you don't need them."

"I-uh," Courtney narrowed her eyes over at you, mind racing with her next possible words.

She wasn't always used to others saying such genuinely nice things about her.

Her parents only ever had criticisms and critiques for her.

And here she was being praised like she's wanted all her life and she didn't know what to say back.

Courtney wasn't sure how to even begin to describe her feelings at that moment. But she knew that she wanted to try, at least.

"Well, (Y/N), I-uh-" She paused, losing her train of thought as she saw your smile brighten. "Thanks. I can always count on you."

"Of course." You grinned, "Now take a deep breath, okay. You were shaking there pretty badly."

"Yeah, yeah." Courtney dismissed, "I'll be fine."

"Oh, how can you be so sure?"

"You're by my side. Things are always a little better with you."

"A little?"

"Okay, more than a little." She clarified, turning her face away from yours, as her face burned.

Samantha LaRusso (Cobra Kai)

Takes place during Season 4

Being a LaRusso came with some certain.....expectations from her dad and her mom.

But mostly her dad, who had the giant moral compass that he instilled in her and Anthony since before they could talk.

Sam didn't really feel the pressure to be who her parents want her to be until she reached high school.

It got even worse once her junior year hit, and college was on everyone's brain.

Samantha never knew what she wanted to do growing up.

At first, she assumed that she'd want to study science and be some kind of chemist.

Lately, she hasn't felt particularly fond of that vision.

It didn't help that Daniel and Amanda pushed college onto her all the time, especially Stanford.

"You're practically a shoe in, Sam!" Daniel beamed, "I mean with your grades and unique extra-curriculars, they would insane not to accept you."

Would it be insane if I said no? Sam wanted to say.

"What are you writing about for your college essay, Sam?" You asked, pushing aside your computer slightly, to get a better view of her sitting across from you. "Everything I start to write about sucks."

"Huh...." Sam quickly snapped her attention to you and away from her thoughts. "I don't know yet." She muttered. "I haven't thought about it."

"You?" You scoffed. "With your dad and mom? Not think about it? I'm surprised that they haven't made you write it already."

"Yeah," She smiled, forcing out a small laugh. "They tried, but they've been busy with Anthony lately and all this Cobra Kai-Eagle Fang-Miyagi-Do feud." She paused, suddenly feeling brave. "Besides, I'm not so sure writing one is a good idea anyway."

"No?" Sam nodded, biting down on her lip, unable to meet your gaze. "Okay. I mean, college isn't for everyone. Some people want to go and some don't."

"Really?"

"Hmm." You hummed, catching Sam's look of relief, "Have you told your parents, yet?"

"No. I don't know how to tell them. I mean, they dreamed of me becoming something successful since I was young. They always pushed me to go to college." She sighed, "I'm not sure if saying no to that is anything that they'll accept."

"You don't need college to be successful, you know. Plenty of people are successful without it." You said.

"I don't even have a backup plan to tell them. I don't know what I want to do with my life."

"That's fine, Sam."

"Is it?! Because from where I'm standing it seems like everyone has their shit figured out except for me!" Sam roared, fire burning in her eyes, "Miguel, Moon, Aisha, Demetri...."

"Some people figure it out quicker than others." You said, "Look at my parents, they didn't figured their shit out until a few years ago. You're allowed to change your mind, Sam."

Silence. You could practically hear the gears turning in hear head, battling about her revelation and how to tell her parents this.

"Listen," You reached forward, grabbing her hand, "I bet that they'll support you. It may take a while given your dad's overreaction to things sometimes..." you added with a chuckle, causing a laugh out of the brunette. "As long as you're happy, Sam."

"You're so cheesy!"

"Yeah, yeah," You said, smiling brightly as the sound of Sam's laugh rang in your ears. "It made you laugh and smile, which I am always more than happy to make happen."

"Thank you...." Sam cooed, a light smile still tugging at her lips. "What would I do without you?"

"I don't know. I guess that I'm just a lifesaver." You smirked, as Sam chuckled at your response.

Adrien Agreste (Miraculous)

Takes place in between seasons 3 and 4

Adrien was never really truly interested in modeling.

Or fashion.

Or really anything that his father pushed him to do.

He was pretty interested in physics though and considered studying it along with chemistry in university.

He never brought it up to his dad before, because every attempt at bring up school was always shot down in favor of more photoshoots and campaigns.

He didn't want to sound ungrateful, but Adrien was not interested in continuing to be a well-known model.

He just wished that his father respected that.

So when Adrien got the chance to be Chat Noir it was great.

He was given a chance to be whoever he wanted without criticism and disappointment from his father.

"It's not enough anymore."

"What isn't?"

"This model Adrien stuff. I got to actually find and be myself as Chat Noir." Adrien said.

"I know. I can see how much you like it."

"I want it to be like that all the time. I want to be me all the time."

"So, why can't you?"

"Come on, you know why." Adrien scoffed. "My dad would never even begin to let that happen. I'm lucky that I even get to go to school with all of you."

"Listen, I know how much your dad means to you and all, but if this is going to make you happy, don't you think that you should start living for Adrien and a little less for Gabriel?"

"I don't even know where to begin!"

"Maybe baby steps....?" You grinned, causing Adrien's face to break out with a smile.

"Something small.....?" Adrien repeated, glancing over at you as you nodded.

"Something small and easy to start." You said, "Then keep going from there."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"You still have Chat Noir to be yourself with." You grinned, "And I see how much fun you have when your Chat. You love it."

"I do, I really I do."

"Well, you're not gonna get to be Chat all the time if you don't take the first step!"

"Alright, alright. I get it." Adrien said, "I'll think of something small. Thanks for the help."

"Of course, Adrien." You said, "You got this."

Quinn Fabray (Glee)

Takes place in near the end of Season one, right before Quinn delivers her baby

Perfection was something that Quinn was well acquainted with.

Her father always told her that Fabrays deserved and earned nothing but the gold standard.

Her mother wasn't as hard on this perfection thing as much as her dad was, especially with her.

Both often set their sights on Frannie.

So Quinn pushed and pushed her way into their attentions.

Once she got their attention, Quinn was determined to everything in her power to make sure that they both saw her nothing short of that perfect little girl.

And once Frannie left for college, keeping her parents' attention proved to be easier than ever.

All she had to do was be the perfect, good student, Christian daughter that her father dreamed of.

Well, that was until Quinn got pregnant at the age 16.

Head Cheerio, Straight A/B student, president of the Chasity club.

Her.

The image and world that she had spent years and years building up, came crumbling down as soon as Finn pressed play on that boom box, proclaiming through song how proud he was that she was having his baby.

Everything around her shattered.

Finn found out the true father of the baby. Puck didn't know that first thing about taking care of a baby. Cheerios kicked her out. Her parents kicked her out.

The lack of time she spent trying to perfect cheer routines and plotting ways for her prom domination was now spent in reflection.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Hmmm. I know that it's not nothing, Q." You said, "You have that look on your face."

"What if I can't get things back to how there were before?" She whispered, almost afraid that if said out loud it was bound to come true.

"Q, the cheerios will take you back. Sue always had a soft spot for you, and you know that."

"What if I don't want to be like it was before?" Quinn added.

Silence.

"You don't have to do it all like how it was before, Q." You said, "No one's forcing you."

"I just don't want to be stuck doing things that make me unhappy."

"And you shouldn't have to." You said. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I-It's just that carrying my baby and stuff got me thinking about how I really wasn't living for myself. I was living for my parents. I was doing things because I thought that they might be proud of me." Quinn sighed, "I'm tired of it. Glee and Cheerios were the only things that I chose myself."

"You should do things that make you happy, Q."

"You make me happy." Quinn grinned. "Can I keep you around?"

"Hmmm...." You smiled, "I don't know I usually don't date cheerleaders, but I think that we can make it work."

Pacifica Northwest (Gravity Falls)

Takes place during Weirdmagedeon, after Pacifica takes refugee with the Pines family.

Pacifica had every she could ever want.

She was a Northwest with a rich family and an ever richer family history.

One that she was ready to recite detail for detail about when asked.

After all, she didn't spend months and months learning and memorizing it with her father for nothing.

Er, well, her father's closest butler, that is.

Growing up, Pacifica learned fast what was acceptable and what wasn't.

Her parents made sure that she was aware.

"If you do that again, you'll drop the Northwest name!"

That threat always played on a loop inside of her head.

All day. Everyday.

"I'm surprised to see you here." You remarked, glancing over as Pacifica sat down next to you inside the Mystery Shack. "I figured that your dad had some secret end of the world bunker with all the money he had."

"Please, like I have the time to explain it to you." Pacifica crossed her arms.

"I mean, look around." You laughed, "I think that you kind of do."

Silence.

"Listen, Pacifica," You sighed, "We're all here, fighting the same crazy demon, so it's okay to not have your guard up. We're all just trying to survive right now."

More silence. You were pretty sure that Pacifica was already dismissing everything that you were saying to her anyway.

"They left me."

"What?"

"I said," Pacifica rolled her eyes, sighing, "They left me. My dad got his face rearranged and my mom went off somewhere. I don't know."

"Pacifica," You said, "I'm sorry that they did that."

"It's whatever." Pacifica shrugged. "They always looked out for themselves anyway."

At that moment, you never wanted to give Pacifica Northwest a hug more.

Sitting next to her, it was hard to ignore the sadness and annoyance radiating off of Pacifica.

"Well, you have us. And no offense, I've been around your parents. They would have made this a lot more of a downer than it already is."

"Well, they made their choice." Pacifica said, a light smile on her face. "I made mine."

"Oh, look at you disrespecting Mommy and Daddy's orders,"

"I'm serious. I'm done listening to them. They didn't care enough to stay with me during the end of the world."

"Well, the Mystery Shack is always welcoming to visitors." You grinned, "I mean, I can't speak for the others, but I like having you around."

"Well, if this means anything, I don't totally hate being around you either."

"I'll take it."

Audrey Rose (Descendants)

Takes place after the events of the first movie

Audrey's parents were very supportive, but often not too active in her life, consulting with Ben's parents and the other royals that made up the court of Auradon.

So Audrey pretty much grew up with Queen Leah always around, as not only did Queen Leah want to spend time with her granddaughter, but also Aurora.

Given the way that the court of royals worked within Auradon, there was a lot of competition for Queen of Auradon.

And that didn't even include the others who weren't of royal descent.

And Queen Leah was hell-bent on getting her second chance through Audrey to do everything right.

This also meant that by extension that Audrey had to do everything right.

Audrey had her life pretty much planned out by her grandmother, Queen Leah.

And as a young girl, Audrey looked up to her and idolized her so much.

Everything was going according to plan until Mal and those other Isle kids came to Auradon.

Audrey knew it as soon as that purple-haired isle kid stepped onto Auradon land.

There was nothing Audrey could do, her ticket as Queen of Auradon quickly disappeared.

"She won't stop calling me!"

"24 times so far. She's really trying hard today." You said, glancing up at Audrey, "Maybe you should talk to her....?"

"I don't need to. I know what she's going to say." Audrey stated, crossing her arms, and tossing her phone back into her bag.

"You don't know that for sure, Auds."

"I do." Audrey's eyes snapped up to yours. "I do know that. I grew up with her. That crap has been the soundtrack of my life!" She paused, sighing, slumping back into her seat. "I'm tired of it."

You stayed silent, eyes trained on Audrey's figure, watching as she sunk lower and lower into her chair.

"You don't have to."

"What...?"

"Try." You said, reaching over to grab Audrey's hand, "You don't have to try so hard. Beating yourself up over letting your grandmother down is not going to help."

"I can't." Audrey murmured, "I don't know the real me."

"She's somewhere. I'm sure that if anyone can find her, it's you."

Audrey wasn't sure what to say, her mind working quickly to process the words you had just uttered.

You believed in her.

Wholeheartedly

No conditions or expectations

"I'll find her." She muttered. "It's me, after all."

"See? Looks like, you've found a little bit of her already." You joked.

🎵It just needed to be? And they let me be?🎵

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mlkbaerry · 2 years

Text

─ ꗃ Happiness [tvn 2021]

If you’re into zombie thrillers, closed room mysteries, and subtle romance on the side this is the perfect show to binge-watch! Every episode follows a different pace but the plotline and story are so perfect that there's no room to get bored or lose interest. I have so much to say about this drama so buckle up lol

Spoilers after the cut

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

1. Characters

This drama definitely has some of the most INFURIATING characters ever made. They are just beyond evil and have special seats in hell. One thing in this drama that I've noticed is, however solid the storyline is if the characters aren't as well written as they are, then the plot wouldn't have had such a huge impact. There are the main characters, the side characters, and the characters that are absolutely useless, have no impact on the plot whatsoever but are still equally important to add depth ukwim?

Here are a few opinions I've had over each character;

Yoon Sae bom: THE MOST BADASS BITCH. I LOVE HER. IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO HER I'D HAVE BEEN UNHAPPY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE

Jung Yi hyun: Softie, cutie, he has my whole heart. He is the only one keeping me sane the entire drama. Such a badass x2. Simp lol.

Han Tae seok: Such a badass x3. Honestly, it took me so long to figure out if he's a good guy or the villain, but I've decided he's just the anti-hero. He has to make such tough and important decisions and not let his emotions get the best of him, but sometimes those decisions are not what the audience wants. Also, the man is so hot, even hotter giving those rich evil mfs what they deserve.

Ji soo: The most level-headed character. Such a badass x4, cutie x2

Kim Jung guk: He's pretty gullible and was annoying in the middle but I understand. They don't really tell us what happened to him, but I hope he lives and his wife gets better. His character was such a swing.

Oh Joo-Hyeong: FuCK HIM OML HE WAS THE WORST CHARACTER EVER!!! He had no purpose in the entire drama ughhh. Even the conflict he created every single episode had nothing to do with the plot and was so irrelevant. His character exactly is what I meant by is useless but add depth lol. Half way through the show he lost importance and was only there for comedic relief. Psycho only

Oh Yeon ok: SHE was the real psycho (x2) here!!!!! This fucking fraud really thought she was doing something huh.

Cleaners couple: These two, STRAIGHT TO HELL. Like did they really think they'd make enough money to send their child all the way to college from selling a limited number of water bottles?????? The cleaning lady towards the end became worse than the doctor.

Andrew: ngl I was rooting for him but he turned out to be the worst.

Seo Yoon & Se Hun: They didn't deserve any of the hardships they went through :( I wish Se hun also got through alive.

Brother & sister: The brother just wanted to see his damn kids. I was rooting for them from the beginning and I'm so happy they didn't let me down!! Such beautiful humans both of them are. I'm so glad he gets to see his kids AND SAVE HUMANITY LOL. I'm glad they made it out just fine.

Family #302: they were annoying at the beginning but it was nice to see them as a loving family who really cared for each other again at the end.

Lawyer couple: The wife deserves better AND IT WAS SO GIRLBOSS OF HER TO DUMP HIS ASS. The man can go fuck himself.

ㅤ

2. The plot

10/10 for the plot. I really liked how they had their own version of zombies. It wasn't stereotypical of just brain rotting, flesh-eating zombies. They gave them emotions. The writers really had a lot of originality with the zombie plot.

There were two things in particular that stood out to me that show how well the plot was arranged.

i. The priest was infected which is why the zombies didn't attack him. Later on, we find out it wasn't because he had god on his side lol but it was because the infected don't go after their own kind, which was a very smart move.

ii. Andrew was teased in a much earlier episode (I think ep 1), he's on the poster of most wanted criminals much before the apartment even goes under quarantine.

ㅤ

3. Happiness, greed, and other emotions

The show is called Happiness but all I felt was stressed and frustrated throughout the show. It shows how much the little moments that really matter. The ones who were truly happy in the end, were the ones who held on to their loved ones and ones who did everything to take care of them. The brother and sister, Sae bom and Yi hyun, The family at #302, The Lawyer's wife, Sae Yoon, and even Bo ram. They weren't after the money or didn't pray on the downfall of others just to make sure they survived. They did what had to be done without putting others in danger.

As for the doctor, cleaning couple, and the fraudy apartment representative, they used the same formula. The worst people somehow always get to the very end, but what makes them worse is how they show no guilt of stepping on others to get to the top. The greedy somehow always survive WHICH GETS ME SO MAD. The cleaning couple was soo overtaken by greed it was as if they forgot about their own child, like did they even think about the possibility of their child being affected? I also found Tae Seok to be a little greedy at the end. Bro your wife isn't the only one affected?!?

ㅤ

4. Extra thoughts

Can't believe that hot brat gave me the most satisfaction by bashing his head with a golf club. Should've gone one step ahead and tied him up or done permanent damage to his face or something.

The kiss scene, so subtle yet so beautiful. Just like the love they have for each other.

The soundtrack was sexc.

WHY WOULD THEY GO BACK AND LIVE IN THE SAME GODDAMN APARTMENT,,,,,, ARE YOU NOT TRAUMATISED ENOUGH WITH THE HORRORS THAT HAVE HAPPENED????? I'S TALKING ABOUT THE RESIDENTS NOT THE ZOMBIES.

"sae bom desperately learned that happiness lies with yi hyun, the person she is living with, not the house." cried

I found it weird tho how the entire world just?? went back to normal?? how come NOBODY else outside was infected, there's no way it was contained so efficiently??? but people in the apartment were still FIGHTING FOR THEIR LIVES literally. But also how come they didn't get cell service back? Did the army have a signal jammer or something??

Kinda wanted to see Yi hyun go on a rage spree and bite everyone except the brother and sister.

the neighbors are the perfect fit for strangers from hell kdrama.

goodbye to one of my favourite dramas <3

#tvn happiness #kpop.eps #yoon sae bom #jung yi hyun #happiness kdrama #han tae seok #kdrama #2021 kdrama #happiness 2021 #myreviews.txt #myrecs.post #film.tv

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juminsmysticmc · 3 years

Note

Hii☺️So, we have RFA+Minor trio being single fathers after Mc's death, what about reversing it?So that Mc is a single mother after they died(

I waited really long to finally make a request and I am very excited right now, especially since it's you.I really love your writings and I read all of them for like a dozen of times and I can't get enough of them😍Thank you so much for your work and stay healthy 🙏🏻

Mc being a single mom after the RFA + Minor Trio died ( Trigger Warnings! )

Trigger Warnings, mention of death, parental death

RFA + Minor Trio as single fathers after Mc’s death (Parental death/ Trigger Warnings)

Did I mention that I like drama? Enjoy!

Jumin

You pressed your lips together as tears went down your cheek. The baby you just gave birth to was sleeping in Jaehee‘s arms as you sobbed into Zen‘s embrace.

,,It‘s as if he planned everything,“ you sobbed, making your red haired friend shake with his head.

,,When he found out you were pregnant, he made me do all this. He didn’t plan to die a month after the birth of your baby, really, he just feared that if something happened to him, his father would have acted the way he did,“ Seven explained.

The reason why you were currently staying over at Jaehee‘s place was that Jumin died a week ago. One day you let him go out of the front door, still smiling as he kissed your newborn, and not even half an hour later, you found yourself in the hospital.

Someone shot him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, your father in law tried to take away your baby, saying that he had to give his grandchild a better life.

But Jumin, even in heaven, saved you once again, saving a lot of money and having an external saving method thanks to Seven.

He even left behind a letter to his father filled with lies, explaining that the baby wasn’t his child.

Of course everything was a lie, but this lie made it possible for you to see your baby grow up.

,,I can’t even go to my husband’s-” your words died in tears.

,,He will always look over you, Mc, and we’ll help you. It will all be better soon…“ Zen patted your back. He too was mourning for his friend.

Zen

,,Mommy, do I really look like daddy?“ your youngest girl asked you as she brushed her long white hair.

You gulped as you looked over to your oldest daughter.

Her eyes were again filled with tears.

Zen died two years ago, leaving you behind with three wonderful children.

You had to give up your job as manager and instead began to work part time in a restaurant at night and other little jobs while the girls were at school.

,,Daddy… I don‘t even remember him,“ your middle child hissed as she entered the room.

,,I don’t even know him, that’s worse!“ your youngest began to sob.

She indeed looked like Zen. He would have been proud to see her beauty.

Well, he was proud of every daughter he had. He loved them with all his heart.

,,Trust me, I would rather not remember him than live with memories,“ your oldest daughter Mina hissed as she put down her lipstick and rushed out.

You sighed as you looked at your little family.

You were all sleeping in one single room. No one had their own space and instead they all argued with each other whenever they had the chance.

,,You’re always so negative, MINA!“ your middle child Hana hissed, followed by the youngest, Sera.

,,I HATE YOU GUYS! HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!“ she screamed, making your heart stop.

Mina glared at her and fell on her feet as she began to scream a loud, high pitched scream.

,,SERA RYU!“ you screamed.

The house died down as only sniffles were heard.

,,Your father died when the three of you caught a virus. He was trying to go to the shop for some medicine, but that doesn’t mean that one of you is at fault, understand?“ you hissed.

You sat down and began to cry yourself as you called them over into your arms, ready to embrace your crying children.

,,No one is at fault. Please, please don’t fight, girls, your father would be devastated to see that,“ you begged.

,,Sera, you do look like dad,“ Mina sobbed and smiled, making your youngest smile brightly.

Yoosung

Your son finally fell asleep after a long crying session.

Nothing hurt you more than consoling your son who was in deep pain because he got bullied at school for not having a father.

Yoosung died six months ago, making you move into a tinier apartment which led to your son attending another school.

However, you regretted every single decision.

You pulled your phone out as you tried to dry your salty tears.

You entered a new chatroom as you asked for help.

,,What happened? Shall I come over?“ Jumin responded, being the first one online.

,,I can come quicker, I‘m omw,“ Zen shortly afterwards responded.

,,No no, I just…

Can you please bring Jinyoung to school tomorrow? He got bullied… I think if other children see him with you guys, they will respect him more,“ you wrote.

Of course Seven jumped in and wrote six lines about how happy he would be to play ⅓ of a father, making you actually choke on your tears.

,,Thank you,“ you typed and decided to bring your son to bed.

Indeed the three boys kept their promise, making him laugh like never before.

Jaehee

,,And that‘s how we met,“ you laughed as you told your son about the meeting between you and Jaehee.

He nodded as he looked at the picture over the table.

It portrayed you, him, and Jaehee on his first day of school.

Jaehee died a year ago from an illness.

It all went so quickly. One day she got diagnosed and a few months later the two of you prepared the funeral for her.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered picking up your son and driving him to the hospital to give Jaehee the chance to see him one last time.

And indeed, it was their last goodbyes.

Jaehee would never see him finishing school, university, or begin a job, fall in love, or try to cheer him up while being lovesick.

She would never see him get married or have his first child.

It hurt your heart to know that you were the only one left for him.

On the other side, Jaehee was happy that at least he had you. ,,How did your favorite TikTok go?“ she groaned.

,,Take him to the moon for me,“ she whispered.

,,Mom was a strong woman,“ you told your son as a tear left your eye.

,,You too, Mommy, you too.“

Saeyoung

You sighed as you turned off your alarm to get off the bed.

It was still dark outside, but you had to wake up with the last strength you had. You pulled yourself together and walked back to the kitchen where you prepared some breakfast for your child.

Like every morning, reality hit you as you silently sobbed while putting some rice into the bento box.

Your hands trembled as you looked up, just to gasp for air and keep going.

It was hard ever since Saeyoung died. Things weren’t going well for you.

You thanked God daily for the remaining person you had, that you had friends and family who supported you.

But you also begged God to make this bad life end. Even though it was selfish, you just wanted to see your family again.

Even if Jaehee often tried to make you understand how lucky you were, even at the times where Jumin promised to help you with the medical expenses, even at those times when Yoosung came over to cook dinner, and even at those times when Zen promised to go with your and your child to the park, you just wanted this to end.

You inhaled again and dried your tears as you made yourself a cup of coffee.

,,Good morning, baby,’’ you whispered as you turned on the lights of your son’s room.

,,Mo….m,’’ the boy groaned, probably in pain as you helped him get up to sit on his wheelchair.

,,Wet…’’ he gasped as you noticed that he wet his bed again.

,,It’s okay, baby, don’t worry,’’ you smiled, pushing the chair through the door, passing at the picture of Saeyoung, Saeran, and your two perfectly healthy children.

That day, Saeyoung didn’t just die in a car accident from speeding, he also took his brother and one of your children with him, leaving you with your second son disabled by the accident.

,,It’s okay,’’ you whispered.

Saeran

You looked up to the ceiling as you felt a warm, little hand on your chest.

Turning your head, you could see how relaxed the face of your daughter was as she slept safely and soundly, not worrying about anything or anyone.

You smiled as you saw how much she resembled Saeran, her father.

Your hand moved to stroke her head as you remembered the day you told him that you were pregnant, how he cared for you and his daughter in the pregnancy, how hard labor was, and how emotional it was when he once again decided to save his brother after seeing his own daughter.

,,He would be happy to see her,’’ he said after she was newly born and he was finally allowed to hold her in his embrace.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered how he taught her to walk, how he stood behind her while going to the park and how much he loved to feed her.

This all disappeared one day.

In the morning, he told you that he might have found Saeyoung and in the evening he came home, beaten up with a shotgun wound, collapsing in front of your porch.

It was your worst nightmare and you were honestly happy that this all happened at night, knowing that back then, your three year old daughter wouldn’t have seen anything.

Ever since then, life became harder.

You moved, fearing the Prime Minister or the agency Saeyoung was in would track you down and kill your daughter. The RFA kept helping you guys, but questions like, ,,Where is Dada’’ weren’t always easy to respond to.

,,Mommy,’’ she mumbled and opened her eyes, smiling brightly at you and rubbing her eyes to wake up.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked her.

,,Daddy visited my dreams…’’ she giggled and fell asleep again, making you wander back to old memories too.

Jihyun

,,Mom, I don’t understand my homework,’’ Lucy said, whispering as she entered the room as quietly as possible.

You looked back to her and nodded as you looked back to the little bed your son was in before you walked away, your hand on Lucy’s hair as you smiled at her.

,,What topic?’’ you asked her.

You noticed that she was hesitating so it was probably art since it was related to her father.

,,Art?’’ you asked her to make it easier for her. She had a pretty hard time ever since Jihyun died, well, you too. You all had a pretty hard time.

Jumin wasn’t the same person anymore, or so Jaehee said. Yoosung seemed to regret a few things, and Saeran and Saeyoung were grieving, just like Zen.

Everyone was in pain after the painful death of that one special person.

,,Our teacher told us to draw a painful happy moment but… how am I supposed to make something happy if it’s supposed to be painful?’’ she asked you.

You nodded. ,,Well, describe something painful. What is painful?’’ you asked her.

,,Getting hurt is painful, falling is painful, getting hit is painful…’’

,,How about losing someone?’’ you asked her, making her think about it for a few seconds before she asked you if it wasn’t something sad instead of painful.

You nodded. ,,When I told you that daddy wouldn’t come home anymore back then when you were younger, do you remember how you felt?’’ you asked her.

,,Did your heart hurt? Did you feel scared and suffocated? Wasn’t it painful?’’ you asked her and even though you could see that she was tearing up, you knew that this was something the two of you had to talk about.

Indeed, Lucy closed up about her feelings ever since then, but this was also a good opportunity.

,,Now, think of a happy moment with your father. Isn’t it something painful but a happy moment as well?’’ you asked her and got up, knowing that she knew what to do.

A week later, you were invited to see your daughter receive a prize for the most beautiful portrait of Jihyun as an angel looking down at the world, a painful and happy moment for everyone who knew him.

Vanderwood

,,Mommy,’’ your son asked you, pulling at your shirt as you stood in front of the stove.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked him without looking as you were cooking.

,,Why did Daddy leave us?’’ he asked you out of the blue, making you stop everything and look at him.

,,The fish is burning,’’ he suddenly said as he saw the flames, making you shriek and quickly take care of everything.

After everything was taken care of, you took him in your arms and showed him a few pictures of his father.

For now, you never showed him his father. You never dared to speak about Vanderwood, fearing that your son wouldn’t understand your words, but by now you learned that he was much stronger than you ever thought.

,,This is your father, Vanderwood. He didn’t leave because he wanted to, he was kind of forced to,’’ you told him, gulping down the bad feeling you had as your heart began to beat quickly.

,,And why is he gone?’’ he asked you, softly touching the picture of a cool looking brown haired man.

This was on the day you two went to eat after you craved a salad and ice cream.

,,He had an important job to do,’’ you explained. Of course you didn’t tell him that the agency tracked him down and killed him brutally while he tried to keep you, his heavily pregnant, hidden.

,,And what is he doing now?’’ he kept asking you as you remembered the day, as if it was yesterday, when he pushed you into the closet, begging you to close your ears and never come out until called you.

However, that call never came. Instead, Saeyoung pulled you out moments later. You didn’t remember how much time passed.

You just knew that he asked you to keep your eyes closed as he led the way out of the room.

,,He is now protecting you, me, uncle Saeyoung, uncle Saeran, uncle Jumin, uncle Zen, uncle Yoosung and aunt Jaehee,’’ you answered with a smile.

How much he would have loved to meet his son, you were sure.

He was your happiness after all, the last memento of Vanderwood.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

26.07.2021// 00:13 MEST

147 notes · View notes

lillian-nator · 3 years

Text

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

Thank you (with additions from sleepy my beloved)

Okay

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

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

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

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (12)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Warnings: none other than JK and OC making out, cursing too????

Chapter’s OST: Nobody Compares by One Direction

Word Count: 3.8k

Series: CHAPTER 11 | CHAPTER 13

Soojin wasn't sure what to do when she saw you standing there, only a few meters away from her and Sin-ae.

You obviously heard the secret she just spilled. This was why she didn't understand why you were keeping a neutral face. It was like the new information didn't shock you at all.

Soojin couldn't help but wonder if this was you being a martyr again. She was not a fool. She was aware how desperate you were to become a part of their family.

How could she not know? Soojin literally exploited this desperation of yours for many years.

She hoped she could still use it today. She hoped you were still the same naïve girl from before.

"Hey, sister..." Soojin tested the waters by calling you sister. It always worked. She saw how your eyes softened and sparkled every time she called you that.

Sometimes she found it endearing, but it pissed her off most of the time. You were such an idiot. She mused.

"Hi." You went near them, greeting them flatly that caused Soojin's heart to drop to her stomach. She didn't see it. This was the first time your eyes didn't light up at the sight of her and her kind smile.

Your face also remained impassive despite Sin-ae's hostility.

"What are you doing here?" Soojin's mother barked, her question was making her look dumb.

You were cradling flowers in your arms while inside a columbarium building. Of course you were here to visit the dead.

"I'm here for my father," and that's exactly what you did; you stated the obvious. Your voice sounded like a robot though. Just like your face, there's no emotion that could be traced. "You know, since I wasn't able to attend the funeral."

Soojin almost flinched at the sudden change of your tone. It's stone cold. She could almost taste your resentment in her tongue.

"Ah..." Your sister let out a breathy laugh. Her heart was in her throat. Soojin was never intimidated by you because she had always felt like she was better than you. In all aspects. You were an illegitimate child. You didn't have a loving mother. Your brothers didn't consider you family. Your father loved her more than he loved you.

The only one you had was Jungkook, but he wasn't yours anymore. He was hers.

"W-We thought you went back to New York." Soojin reasoned out sheepishly. She looked timid, exactly how you used to look when you were around the Kims.

It's uncanny actually. At this very moment, you could see yourself in her. Soojin looked so much like you. Was it because she's your sister? Or was it because just like you, she had done something shameful too?

Wrong.

You were wrong. Your very existence was shameful enough. Soojin had only done something that made her feel guilty. That's different. She's nothing like you. She was better—this was what she believed.

"I did not." You responded because what else could you say? It wouldn't change the fact that you didn't get to see your father for the last time.

They took him away from you.

"Well then we won't disturb you anymore." Soojin faked a smile, grabbing her mother's arm and tucking it into the crook of her elbow.

Sin-ae tried to pull her arm away from her daughter's grasp. Turning to you, she huffed and was about to say mean things when Soojin discreetly squeezed her mother's arm.

You saw how she leaned closer to the older woman to whisper something. Only a fool wouldn't know what that 'something' was. It's obvious she told Sin-ae that there's a big chance you heard about their secret.

It's the only logical explanation why the color drained out of the face of your half sister's mother. It also appeared like Sin-ae suddenly lost her ability to speak.

She couldn't even scorn at you. Truthfully, she was looking at you as if you were a ghost that's been haunting her for ages.

"I-It's getting late, Soojin-ah. Maybe we should go." Sin-ae turned to look at her daughter, smiling warmly at her.

Soojin released a deep breath, thankful that her mother understood the situation immediately.

"We should." Soojin directed her smile at you. "See you soon, sister..."

Her smile dropped when you didn't respond, but instead of pointing it out or getting mad, she just chose to walk away, dragging her mother with her.

You surprised them when you unexpectedly spoke right after they walked past you.

"Yeah." Your grip on the stem of the flowers tightened. "See you at the Board of Directors' Meeting."

"She's bluffing." Sin-ae crossed her arms as she lifted her brows. She looked confident while standing still, her eyes were sharp which Soojin didn't fail to notice.

Her mother's aura gave her an illusion of power. Yeah. Sin-ae was right. You were most likely bluffing when you told them days ago that you would see them at the BOD's meeting.

Who cared if you knew about their secret? You didn't have evidence. As stated, Soojin destroyed it all. She also paid those employees who knew about the truth. They wouldn't dare spill.

That's the power of money. It could buy the silence of people.

Apart from this, no one would ever believe an illegitimate child like you. The board wouldn't even consider you as a prospective chairperson. You had the biggest share in the company but you weren't an architect in the firm. Only those who were working at Castle as an architect could be the next chairperson. Besides, why would they want an irresponsible person who suddenly quit her job? This was what you did when you abruptly decided to go to New York two years ago. You left Castle almost immediately, not caring that you still had commitments.

Jungkook, being your best friend, took over all your pending projects just so you could be free. He thought you simply wanted to leave the company. But regret washed over him upon realizing that you quit your job so you could go abroad.

Jungkook often wondered what would have happened if he didn't take over your pending projects. Would you still leave Seoul? Would you still leave him?

Probably.

You never stayed.

You left before.

You left him now too.

The last time Jungkook saw you was when he dropped you off at Castle so you could be present when Taemin's executor read the will. After that, he never saw you again.

Jungkook tried to go back to the motel but you weren't there anymore. He panicked, thinking that you went back to New York already.

But when he called your phone and you answered, he instantly felt relief engulfing his body.

"I'm still in Seoul." You informed him over the phone. You also told him you couldn't go back to his apartment anymore.

"At least tell me where you're staying..." He was begging you again. Jungkook didn't care if you thought he was pathetic. His main concern was your safety.

"I can't. But I'm safe. Promise." You assured him. He wanted to argue but then he was reminded by what you told him two years ago. You didn't want to be fixed. Maybe it's time he put his trust in you.

He should trust your words.

"Okay." He said, his heart was heavy.

You hummed.

"See you soon, Kook." And then you hung up.

You didn't lie though. Jungkook saw you after a few days. He got to know what happened through Soojin. Your sister was pissed because you inherited more than half of Taemin's assets. Jungkook also came to know that you wanted to be the next chairperson of Castle.

Soojin was trying to calm her nerves; however, everything was making her worry. She didn't only have to worry about you. Jungkook was also a threat to her position. The board probably wanted him to be the next chairperson.

Sin-ae assured her daughter there's nothing to worry about.

"Didn't I tell you I can handle Jungkook? He'll marry you so you don't need to worry if the board chooses him as your father's successor. Chin up. We got this. Like I said, the bastard is bluffing. She won't be at the meeting." Sin-ae reminded her daughter for the second time.

Soojin nodded. Her mother's words didn't give her the illusion of power. The confidence she felt right now was already real.

"Alright." Your sister held her head high as she heaved a deep sigh. "Let's go. This day is perfect. I'll either be the new chairperson or Jungkook's wife. I win regardless..."

"Yes." Sin-ae's lips twitched. "That's right. Now let's go and claim what belongs to you."

Sin-ae was wrong. You weren't bluffing. You're determined to be the next chairperson of Castle Architectural Firm.

You wouldn't let Soojin taint the name of your father. She had to pay for her sins, not just for the sake of Taemin but also because she owed it to the family of those workers who had died because of the accident.

Soojin failed as an architect. The least thing she could do was to become a decent human being and face the consequences of her mistake.

You knew you could only make her pay if you had the power, but how were you supposed to be in power when you felt like everyone in this building hated you?

You couldn't get rid of the ugly feeling twisting in your gut. You were certain you weren't imagining the nasty stares everyone was giving you.

You also saw some of the employees whispering to one another while looking at you.

You inhaled sharply and went straight to the comfort room. You couldn't bear it. All your life, the people you loved looked at you like that.

It was happening again. This time, it was so much worse. Even those who knew nothing about your life were judging you. You had a feeling that they were already aware that you were an illegitimate child.

It was kind of a big deal here, especially now that you had inherited the assets bound for the legitimates. People probably saw you and your mother the same way: a leech.

But you just shook your head at this. Who cares about what people think? What's important was that you didn't lose yourself despite hearing rumors about you.

It was just a rumor. You knew the truth. The people who loved you knew the truth. Jungkook knew the truth.

"Tiger." And he loved you.

"Jungkook?" You flinched when you heard your best friend's voice. You saw his reflection in the mirror. He was leaning against the bathroom door.

"Why are you here?" Your eyes widened, jaw clenching. This was a woman's restroom. What if someone saw him here?

"I thought I saw you going here. Just wanna check..." He said this while you peeked through each cubicle. Thank Heavens no other women were here.

"You're not supposed to be here. Let's go." You made your way to the door, attempting to twist the doorknob but Jungkook stopped you.

"Kook." You sighed. "The meeting starts in ten minutes. We'll be late." You said sharply, reminding him this wasn't the time to play games.

"Five minutes." He let out a deep breath too. "Just give me five minutes, Tiger."

Your breathing hitched upon hearing the desperation in his voice. You made a mistake by meeting his gaze. The softness in his eyes never failed to make your knees go weak.

"I just wanna see you..." He drawled, lightly pushing you against the door and caging you in his arm.

Jungkook cupped your face while you pressed your cheek against his hand, instantly melting. Your stomach knotted with desire. It felt good to be touched like this.

"Kook..." Your teeth chattered though, the protest of your brain was hard to ignore. "W-We can't."

And as usual, you gave into what your mind thought was right. You were pushing him away. Again.

Stupid.

"Why can't we?" It was surprising to hear him ask this without the whiny tone. He was calm today, like an adult asking for a reasonable explanation. Jungkook knew he couldn't get what he wanted by whining.

"Make me understand, Tiger. Why can't we?" He was caressing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut because you didn't want to look at his doe eyes.

"Soojin."

"To hell with Soojin." You shuddered when he said this. His voice was rough, so different from the Jungkook you knew. You had to open your eyes to make sure it's still him who was caging you.

The Jungkook you knew would never say something like this.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself for you to understand?" He was looking at you through hooded eyes.

Your heart hammered through your chest.

"It's not Soojin who I want. It's you." You felt his finger tracing your bottom lip. The way he was staring at your lips made you shiver. "Nothing compares to you, baby."

Oh.

You realized you couldn't use Soojin as an excuse. It's not working anymore and frankly, it's just pissing Jungkook off. He swore he'd vomit if he heard you say your sister's name one more time.

"W-We still can't." You trained your eyes on the floor. He was about to ask why but you beat him by speaking at once.

"Because you're my rival."

You thought you'd hear him scoff or hiss, but Jungkook just clenched his jaw. Deep eyes boring into you. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"I'm not." He said seriously. "I quit. I'm not competing against you."

You were the one who scoffed.

"Why?" You looked at him like he was crazy. "This is your father's company too."

Jeon Jong-in worked hard to build Castle Architectural Firm. Why wouldn't his son continue his legacy?

"You never listen to me, do you?" Jungkook let out a small chuckle before booping your nose. It's amusing how fast his expression changed. "Didn't I just tell you? Nothing compares to you, Tiger..."

He was saying that he'd choose you whatever happened, even if it meant losing other things. Because really, what's the use of all these material things when you're not by his side?

"Kook..." You pressed your hand on his chest and then you're suddenly reminded by what you had tried to do when you got drunk days ago.

The last time you put your hand on his chest, you tried to kiss him.

"What excuse are you gonna give me this time, my Tiger?" The corner of his mouth quirked up. Amusement was written all over his face. "Don't tell me you're gonna say you don't think I'm in love with you?"

Jeon Jungkook was the only person you knew who was never scared to admit his true feelings. You just knew he would confess his love at any chance he got. It's like he didn't mind if he got his heart broken. Truthfully, it felt like he would get his heart broken if he didn't confess all the time.

He had always been like this. Always genuine, never scared. He acted based on what he felt and he's never sorry for it.

"Are you?" You weren't sure what took over you when you knitted your brows together and asked this.

Jungkook's eyes grew big and then he let out a dramatic gasp. It was as though he couldn't fathom the words that left your mouth.

"Where is this coming from?" He swallowed thickly, disbelief was still apparent in his eyes. "You don't think I—wait. What?"

Jungkook blinked. Once. Twice.

"Shit. You seriously think I'm not in..." He trailed off, "oh." It's like something clicked. Jungkook's disbelief turned into credence when he realized something.

He stared at you with pursed lips, like he was trying to figure you out. Your expression seemed like you were challenging him that Jungkook wasn't sure what to do.

He felt like you're not going to believe whatever he would say, so instead of blabbering how crazy he was for you, he just used his mouth into something that shocked you.

Jungkook leaned forward and without hesitating, he kissed you.

Hard.

It was as though you were waiting for him to do that because your response was instant. You kissed Jungkook back like a hungry person who hadn't eaten in days.

Jungkook pressed his chest against yours, like he wasn't content with your proximity. He wanted to be closer to you even more.

"You don't think I love you because—" He bit your lip, making you moan. Jungkook pushed your body weight against the wall with his own. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your dress hiking up in the process. "—I didn't kiss you when you were drunk?"

He got it now. You're sulking like a kid because of it? Huh. What did you want him to do? Kiss you and then have you hate him since he wasn't able to control himself?

"You're a fool if you think I didn't want to do it. I was literally on the verge of giving you my whole world right there and then." You parted your lips and allowed his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth.

Jungkook was the very definition of sweet. Everything about him tasted sweet, heavenly, and addicting. It was like he was an angel, but in reality, he made you weak. A devil meant to punish your heart for wanting to take more than you could handle.

Jungkook gave you so, so much more and you couldn't stop taking it all.

"But I don't want to take advantage of you. I want you to really want me, to really mean it when you kiss me." He cupped your ass as he hummed and groaned with desire.

You felt bolder when you asked him; "do you think I mean it now?" In between kisses.

Jungkook swiped his tongue along your teeth. "Yeah," he answered yet he groaned in dissatisfaction. "But I'm selfish, Tiger...I want more than this."

He stopped kissing you, opting to press his forehead against yours. He breathed you in. He was letting the selfish part of him consume him again.

Jungkook wanted you with all of his heart. He was disgustingly in love with you.

"Love is not my priority right now, Jungkook." You said since it was the truth. You had the opportunity to help people serve justice.

"I know.” And he understood it. Jungkook was nuzzling your nose. "Promise me you're not gonna hold back..."

He knew how much you loved Soojin. He was a little worried you're going to back down once you saw sadness in your sister's features.

"I won't." But you weren't that person anymore.

It's interesting, really. Some people swore they'd never change but there's always that one circumstance which would transform them either into a better or worse version of themselves. You hadn't realized yet if your metamorphosis was the former or the latter. All you knew was that you had reached your breaking point—your limit.

"Good." Jungkook smiled softly at you. His eyes were crinkling. "I know it. I called you Tiger for a reason."

He was finally telling you the reason why he crafted that nickname for you. He didn't elucidate any further but you felt like you already understood. Tigers represented courage. To some, it symbolized truth and justice.

"Thanks, Kook." You returned the smile. Jungkook helped straighten your dress. He kissed you one last time before opening the door so you two could face the challenge set for today.

You arrived at the conference room just in time. Soojin and Sin-ae were already present. Your two brothers were here as well. They're shareholders too.

Once the quorum was recognized, the vice chairperson made a simple statement. The agenda for today was also discussed. The topic mostly revolved around the firm's responsibilities and liabilities—both civil and criminal—to the affected people.

There had been major changes with regard to ownership too. It had come to the attention of the board and other stockholders that the Kims were no longer the biggest investors in the firm.

"Quite the opposite actually." Jungkook leaned against the backrest of the chair as he crossed his arm over his chest.

He looked so relaxed, as if the matter being discussed didn't concern him.

Yes, that's actually the truth. Jungkook was just asked if he had the biggest share in Castle Architectural Firm.

"I sold all my shares. I'm just here to officially announce that I'm no longer tied to the company. I quit both as an investor and an architect."

There had been a protest after Jungkook said those words. It's clear that the majority of them couldn't accept this.

"This is ridiculous! Who will be the next chairperson now?" Mr. Han balled his hands into a fist.

Jungkook remembered this man. How could he forget? He's the same scum who disrespected Soojin and basically all women. He's a misogynistic piece of shit.

"It's not my fault you're not informed. All information is laid down for investors like you. I am not competing against the Kims."

It was revealed right there and then that Taemin's illegitimate child and Soojin were the candidates to be the next chairperson.

Of course Sin-ae lost her composure. It's expected. She's dramatic like that. She was shouting and demanding how this became possible.

The charter and the country's law stated that in order to become the company's chairperson of a professional corporation, one should be employed as an architect in the firm first.

Sin-ae talked to the Human Resources Manager before. The employee confirmed that you weren't hired. You didn't even apply.

"Oh I'm not talking about me, Mam." You smirked at your father's wife. "You see..."

For dramatic effect, you stood up and walked around the room. Everyone was either looking at you with anticipation or hatred.

Jungkook was the only one looking at you in awe. He liked seeing you like this, in control and confident. He pouted while watching you. He wished he could kiss you again.

"I know it's not a secret anymore that I'm Kim Taemin's child. But..."

But. There's this word again. More often than not, the word but followed something negative...or shocking.

In this case, it's the latter.

You saw surprise written in their faces as you revealed the truth:

"I'm not the only bastard of Kim Taemin." You stood behind the chair of one of the shareholders and architects here at Castle.

You tapped his back, causing him to sit straight.

"Everyone, meet Jung Hoseok—or should I say Kim Hoseok, the eldest son of Kim Taemin..."

Hoseok smirked too as he said “let the game begin,” under his breath.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook best friend #jungkook best friends to lovers #best friend jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook romance #jungkook fic #jjk fic #jjk #bts jeon jeongguk #boyfriend jungkook #armywriterssupport

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dropsofletters · 3 years

Text

the beat of a love rhyme [jww]

— summary: up-driven music, blasting parties, glasses of champagne clanking in between drags of smoke—the seventies are wild, but she’s at the peak of her career. part of one of the most popular funk bands of this decade, their vocalist at that, with a fulfilling relationship, rows of people screaming her name…life is good.

until it isn’t.

her band decides to split and she’s left as a solo artist. the only thing she has left is jeon wonwoo, her manager, and the connection that has grown in between them in endless years of accompaniment.

as it turns out, he’s all she needs—saccharine sweet, paradoxical, elegant, kind. much different from the world she had once prided herself for being part of.

— title: the beat of a love rhyme — pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader — genre: funk band!au ; manager!au ; friends to lovers!au ; 1970’s!au — type: fluff ; suggestive ; drama ; angst — word count: 13,740

She once saw the world she had constructed fall down to her feet. Watched betrayal collide against the strong walls of her universe, tumbling it down, masking it in shadows and dust. For once, while standing in the studio, sporting enigmatic and outstanding clothing and a smirk that slowly dissipates, she doesn’t feel like herself. Stardom tastes nothing like the saccharine-sweet dessert she had once thought of it to be.

Music is one of those things—everyone loves it, adores to sensationalize the artists that they listen to on the radio and that they attend concerts of, but they don’t think about how wrong it is. Managers that are manipulators, magazines that are stalkers, drug dealers that are leeches looking to destroy them and earn their money while at it. Of course, how to forget?…band members that leave the group because a lead vocalist is, well, fucking stupid.

They all start the same. The Beatles. Kiss. They are friends that get in a group together and then, they’re no longer as good of friends as they were in the beginning. One person wants to write certain kind of music, another one is too lost in between someone’s legs to even care, then…there’s what her friends are doing.

The Moonlit Dolls are a funk hit. Ask magazines, newspapers, even that one housemaid that lives next to you and bumps her hips and head to the beat of their songs. It happened in 72, when one roll of a song made it to the radio and soon after, they found a manager. Youthful, nervous, just trying to prove his boss right about his sense of music.

That’s Wonwoo, outside the booth that contains the seven women of the funk band that once consisted of friends that drank beers together and decided to make a group. Perform dancing and singing to their heart’s content, with pianos, trumpets, and a whole lot of shiny dresses. She was the lead woman, and now?

“We’re kicking you out of The Moonlit Dolls.” Sunshine, the pianist, says with one hand spread on top of her waist. Her hair is puffy, tight curls accompanied by tinted sunglasses and a body-tight dress, orange under the golden lights.

She scoffs after hearing it the second time. “Yeah, right.” Tugging at the oversized jacket, belonging to her baseball player boyfriend, that rests over her shoulders, a smile appears on her features. “I am The Moonlit Dolls, Sunshine. You ask anyone and the only person they’re going to care about is me.”

Prickling with harsh words will give her a benefit in this fight. Kiara, the chorist and bass player, gasps from her spot. Sunshine is all sex dreams and radiant smirks. Kiara is ignited cigarettes and broken wings. “You can’t say that…”

“Calm down, Ki.” Sunshine says, extending her hand towards the smaller, weaker woman. “I’m not letting this bitch keep the group.”

Why is no one talking? She asks herself. There are two producers and her manager, Wonwoo, outside. Everyone else had decided to switch managers when they reached stardom in 75 with their single “One More Song”, but she had kept to his side.

“It’s my group. I was the one with the idea.” She utters, fixing the microphone and putting on her headphones “So stop whining about and trying to be a leader when I need you to do your job and play the piano, as you should.”

“We’re tired of being your little backup girls.”

She raises her eyebrows at that, bitter as bitter can be. “Maybe, if you worked on some good publicity, you wouldn’t be my backup girls.”

Scandal after scandal had cladded the group, and while being the leader, she had to stand every question and tidying wave. Men in music do it all the time—being in threesomes, being improper outside, doing drugs, smoking cigarettes, screaming to paparazzi but have a group of women singing and playing funk music do it and it’s a fucking headline. And the worst kind.

Her girls just loved a bit of irrelevant, awestriking fun…and she was the one to protect them.

Look how that turned out.

Star, their drummer, screams a bit louder than the rest. She’s a mood-maker, even in the worst sense of the word. “And you’re a good example?!”

“Mention one scandal from me.” The vocalist says, shrugging her shoulders when she spares a glance towards Wonwoo. The man hovers over the sound booth, thick eyebrows perpetually placed in a frown, as if studying the situation.

Star sighs dreamily. “I don’t know, maybe that you’ve fucked the entirety of the country’s baseball team.”

Looking over her shoulders, anger is swallowed down by the lump on her throat. It hurts. The six women that had been there for her these past few years now have turned against her, and even worse, they think of her as some kind of monster. Have someone to lose and you’ll cry them once every blue moon. Imagine having six.

“Oh baby,” She feigns a moan, battling her eyelashes in the process to bring a smirk over her features. “I like men with big baseball bats. Thick. Long. Know what to do with them…is that what you wanted to hear? Is your little businessman boyfriend too little in that department for you?”

“Cock-thirsty bitch.” Star cusses, moving forward as she tightens her fists.

Instead, she chuckles. “Does that make your betraying-bitch ways any better?”

Blood boiling, ears tinged in heat, she doesn’t pay much attention to what she says until she feels Star’s long nails piercing through her scalp, holding onto her hair and tugging at it as shrieks leave her lips. Fighting with them, even physically, would have never crossed her head but hey…

If she’s going to end up having a scandal, she better go all the way with it.

Her hands settle on Star’s slim arms, moving her around and pushing her against the drums, tussled to the ground by her force. Star pulls her down, pushing her body to the ground to tug at more of her hair and just when she’s grabbing onto the woman’s face, fingers digging onto her cheeks, she feels the pressure on her head dissipating, but not leaving her without a headache.

The next thing she sees is a pair of worried brown eyes staring down at her, the golden lights of the ceiling a halo around Wonwoo’s brown hair, soft strands cascading down his face when he wraps his fingers around hers and puts her up, behind his suit-cladded body.

“Stop it.” He says, never one raising his voice. Star doesn’t look any better, tears cladding her vision as she stares back at her. “Do you think it’s fair for her to just tell her now that you’re leaving her out of the group? You’re going to destroy her career.”

“It has always been about her!” Sunshine says, far stronger than Star in her poise. “She’s the one writing, composing, singing, presenting. If she’s so good, she’ll do well…but we can’t be The Moonlit Dolls and the bitch that stands above everyone. This isn’t what a group is about—”

“What is it about?” Her voice lowers, getting away from Wonwoo’s shadow, bottom lip trembling to try to keep strong. But she can’t. She’s losing her group and her sisters. Though, they don’t consider her family anymore. “Talking about me? Judging me? Making decisions without including me? Is it about envy? If you really love someone, you’ll want to see them succeed, not push them to the ground to step on them.”

Sunshine pulls her sunglasses down, rolling her eyes in the process. Silence eats the atmosphere when she says: “You did that to us for years.”

“…Well, not anymore.” Her shaking fingertips wrap around Wonwoo’s, interlocking their hands together to keep sane. The only person that is left of the beginning of it all…and now, she’ll have to start again. “You’ve got it. Be the Moonlit Dolls. I couldn’t give less of a shit. I hope you’re happy.”

“Wait, no—” Wonwoo says, tugging at her. “It’s not fair. We can talk about the contract with them. I’m—”

“I don’t want to work with them anymore.” Her voice is soft, odd for a frontwoman, but when looking into her manager’s eyes, she wants to find solace…peace… “Please, let’s just go home.”

It doesn’t take much more than a nod from him and a tug of her hand to get out of that fucking studio.

###

One rule before getting on a stage or even doing a presentation at school. You don’t think of everyone naked; much less do you take deep breaths. You just of how comforting it will be to come back home to the person that supports you through it all. Now, that’s how she has gotten through stardom.

The beaming lights of the city cast down on her face, shadows highlighting the tears that stream down her face. The sleeve of her sweater, bathed in a citrusy scent, rubs at her tired eyes for the umpteenth time when Wonwoo finally says something.

“They didn’t deserve you.”

Maybe, Wonwoo is the person she wants to make proud, whom she wants to return to, even when they are just friends. A manager on the rising, trying to get his job going, in 1972, when he found a group of women in some bar. At the time, Wonwoo was a lot more youthful, peppering around nineteen-year-old and not technically her manager. An intern? Sure. The man in the small lettering of books when remembering The Moonlit Dolls? Of course. But Wonwoo only got to be her manager five years later. This year, actually.

Now, he’s different from how she remembered him. Wonwoo was a lot shyer, music-loving, sporting graphic t-shirts and carrying CD’s in his backpack just in case. His features were sweeter, of course, less of a frown and more of a curve to his cat-like lips, but Wonwoo has pampered himself well enough. A gray suit covers his tall and slim body on most occasions, tied to his waist to utmost perfection, with his hair smooth against his scalp and sleeked back, with one strand that always escapes it, and of course, he leaves the CD’s in his newer, far better car now.

Sighing, she rests her head against her seat, staring at his profile as the mansions and beaming lights let her know they are nearing her house. “Who are we lying to, Wonwoo?” She asks, voice raspy. “All my shit is getting out now. They’re not the type to keep their lips pursed and all the songs I composed are going to stay with her. I know Sunshine—”

“They’re copyrighted. They can’t do that.” Wonwoo’s voice, warm like a day at the pool in summer, makes her chuckle softly, not even parting her lips to do so.

“Copyrighted under The Moonlit Doll’s name.”

“Then…” Wonwoo trails, fingers skimming over the wheel professionally. Looking at him from the side, Wonwoo doesn’t look half bad. Maybe, that’s why her boyfriend is always over-the-top jealous about her manager. “We can turn you into a solo artist. Elton John did it. John Lennon did it. Hell, every single one of The Beatles decided a solo was good. Even Ringo.”

“Elton is Elton. I’m me.”

“More of a reason. You’re enough—”

“Woo.” She cuts off, leaning over to his side of the car, head resting on his shoulder to seek for the comfort of him. “It’s not about the music. It’s about the fact that those women, my sisters, my girls, decided to just cut ties with me.”

Wonwoo’s breath ghosts over her forehead for a second when he looks over his shoulder to park in her garage. His arm extends behind her seat, the warmth of him seeping through his suit. “So, you can only rise from this. It will hurt for a while, and I’ll give you enough time to heal all you need, but you can’t consider them your sisters. Not after what they did to you. Not how they talked to you, either.”

With that, he parks the car, but she doesn’t move her face away from her spot next to him. He’s the only thing she has left of her old life, before the big mansion, chef, workers, studio albums and stardom.

He calls her name softly, and she hums.

“You don’t consider them your sisters, do you?”

“The kind of sisters that you hope never get written in your father’s will. Yeah. That kind of sisters.”

Her manager chuckles at that, soft and tender. “I’ll support you through everything.” With that, he opens the door to the driver’s seat. “But I need you to sleep the sadness off and for god’s sake, to stop crying. They’re not worth the tears. Sure, it hurts…but this happens. Every group falls down.”

Lumping against the seat, her fingers clumsily hook on the door to open it. “Then, why are they so popular?”

“People love friendships.” He says, and when she turns to look at the side and get out of the car, he’s already holding his hand out for her to take. She does, eyes connected to his as he speaks. “And they love groups of people they can choose from. You know, ‘my favorite was totally Sunshine because she’s hot’ and that’s all there is. Sex sells, but friendship does, too.”

“I have to stay with sex, then.” The door closes behind her, coldness seeping through her legs when she walks towards her spacious mansion. Eight rooms, ten bathrooms, enormous living rooms and parties, and she still doesn’t feel a thing for this place. It’s not home.

“It’s not necessary when you have talent.”

“Tell that to the talented women in this industry that are only paid attention to if their nipples peak through their shirts.”

“…We’ll do anything to make you shine for who you are.”

“I, no longer, have a ‘we’.” She doesn’t tip-toe around the subject, turning around and walking backwards when talking to Wonwoo. “I’m alone! I’m fucking alone and I don’t know what to do. I’m not used to being alone!”

Wonwoo sighs. “How many people does it take to make a ‘we’?”

The question has her frowning. “I don’t know—”

“It’s logic. You do know. The least amount of people you need to make a ‘we’ is…”

His voice trails when her back connects against the entrance of her mansion. “Two.”

“And did I leave you?”

“No.”

“Then, we’re a team. We’ll always be a team.” Wonwoo conquers, his hands coming in contact with her shoulders when he pulls her to the side slightly. “So, I’m staying here tonight and make sure you don’t party until ninety percent of your body becomes alcohol.”

A smile tugs at the edge of her lips. Well, maybe she’s as trashy as her ex-bandmates said. “People like you are always so responsible, aren’t they?”

Wonwoo opens the door with the copies of her keys he has with him, turning on the lights and greeting one of the maids by the entrance. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done it.”

She chuckles. “Oh, I would’ve smoked a cigarette out of someone’s ass right now with how shitty I’m feeling.”

Never would she have thought that would make Wonwoo grin. “That’s a pun?”

Her eyes look up to remember what she said before laughing at her words. “I’ve never eaten ass, but maybe the factor of shit possibly coming out could be the reason why I’ll never try it.”

Something in his eyes is dulcet. You see, silence has its own taste, and there, with her nose clogged up from so much crying and lips burning from so much biting, she basks on the way Wonwoo smiles and watches her when he extends his hand and pats her head. “You’re something else.”

Out of all the times she has heard it, this one feels nice—sincere. “That’s the only thing I have ever been.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll stay down here and arrange a few things.”

“My career?”

“Maybe.” Wonwoo shrugs, taking off her boyfriend’s jacket from her shoulders and placing it neatly on the couch. “Go sleep those tears off.”

Saluting him, she winks at him as a goodbye. “On it, dad.”

Wonwoo closes his eyes tightly, a chuckle ripping through his vocal chords. “Don’t call me that.”

“I won’t…dad.”

She hears him groan as she goes up the endless set of curved, marble-toned stairs and that alone makes her feel like maybe, not everything is fucked.

###

Rule number one of life. Never say never.

Never say everything.

Never say fine.

Just, don’t say shit.

Wonwoo has stayed in her place for the past three days, asking her chefs to make her complete meals, making sure that she—at least—ties her hair away from her face as she relishes on her sadness. Lets it broom and breathe out as she sips on her coffee and reads the newspaper. Two days ago, a man died when swallowing a bone, just yesterday, they talked about the feminist movement and today, she’s in the headlines when she scalds her tongue with coffee.

“Wonwoo!” She shouts out, loud and clear, enough to rip her vocal cords. Anyone who listened to her would have thought two things. One, Wonwoo is her child and she’s trying to scold him to bits and pieces or she’s Wonwoo fan, and hence, absolutely crazy enough to scream his name like that.

It’s not always that the man she loves decides to speak nonsense in the newspaper.

Or rather, break up with her through an article.

THE DEVIL IN A SHORT SKIRT – Why the King of Baseball, Jae Kim, decided to break all ties with most famous female funk singer?

For once, she didn’t know she had broken ties with Jae. Two days ago, to be exact, he was cooing on the cellphone, whispering sweet and dirty nothings of how much he missed her, how he craved to touch her skin, how he had thought of all the sins possible with her in mind. That’s not love, but it’s stardom—Hollywood bleeding the perfection that everyone envies.

Now, when Wonwoo appears in the pristine kitchen, breathing heavily as he had ran all the way through the mansion, she’s reading the article. His picture is there, enough reason to show he had actually been interviewed. Jae throws his head back in laughter, thick and muscular thighs parted with his skillful fingers wrapped around a glass of champagne. His long brown hair is pushed away from his face, his chiseled face, squared jaw and thick lips parted in sweet laughter.

“It was crazy, man.” He said, according to the reporter, with a frown of his lips. “I’d be scared of her, much like the girls were. She was too strong. Too receptive. She tied me up to the bed one night and left me there until the morning. I’m not too perfect but damn...I couldn’t hold on.”

God!

Speak of a fucking bastard!

He was the one tying people up, if she is sure of something.

The rest of the article objectified her, to bits and pieces, enough to throw the newspaper across the kitchen, watching the papers fall apart as a dulling scream leaves her lips, coffee splattering across the walls when she splashes it away from her cup.

“Fuck!”

How could the man that she loved treat her in such a way? Spoke about things that he should have never talked about—bragged about how it was like to bang the hottest member of a girl group, of a funk band. Talked about her consumptions, her supposed addictions, spoke of her as a pair of tits and an ass that he touched and claimed as his but he couldn’t hold onto because a body was a thing…but certainty, confidence, ambition? Oh, that’s too fucking much.

That’s a woman. He wants a maid.

He wants a hole to fuck.

Her hands cover her eyes when she hears Wonwoo speaking, a curse leaving his lips. “This fucker. I told you not to get with him—”

One year back, when Wonwoo was totally right about dating her ex boyfriend’s best friend, Jae Kim, and also another baseball player. Maybe The Dolls weren’t so wrong when they said she had a thing for men like that.

“I know.” She speaks softly.

“Let me call the publicity team and just talk about this. We need to make a conference and throw him to the ground. He doesn’t deserve to talk such obsenities—”

Instead, she extends her hand, waving her fingertips. “Give me the car keys.”

Wonwoo looks into her eyes, studying her, more put together than herself. Did she even take a shower yesterday? She’s not sure. “Why?”

“Wonwoo, I said—”

“I’m not letting you drive anywhere alone.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he keeps his voice poised and she does her best not to stomp her foot like a child. “You want to talk with Jae.”

Maybe, he knows her a bit too much. “He said—”

“Stupid things.” Wonwoo waves the newspaper in the air. “He said things that should have been kept in between two people and he doesn’t deserve words. He deserves—”

“Oh, I know what he deserves.” She waves her fingers again. “So, you either let me go or I’m walking all my way there.”

“Are you going to kill him?”

With a sigh, she tilts her head to the side. “Wonwoo, do you think I would kill someone?”

Her manager blinks a few seconds before chuckling. “No, but I’d support you if that’s what you were trying to do.” He says, throwing the newspaper to the island. “What’s the plan?”

“You let me drive, and you don’t say a thing.”

“…For the first time in my life, I don’t want to stay silent because I don’t know what you’re planning.”

Though, the coldness of the car keys rests against her hands, with enough quickness for her to go to the living room and take Jae’s signed baseball bat in between her fingers, swinging it once and twice before resting it against her shoulder.

“I’m planning to be the kind of woman he’s scared of.”

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows at that. “We’re not killing him.”

“I’m not planning on killing him.” She looks at the bat in between her fingers. “I could get this up his ass, but he’s not in his mansion. He’s somewhere in the country, bragging about how he had me in his sheets so…I’ll do the second best thing.”

The manager sighs deeply, rubbing his temples in the process. “Tell me this will be therapeutic.”

“Oh, this is a before and after.” She whispers, walking over to the door. “You’re about to see the birth of a new woman.”

Jae Kim is one proud son of a bitch. Tall, handsome, with a dimple on his left cheek and an ass to die for. He’s everything she ever thought she wanted—with not enough spice, but with a smile that could make up for his lack of words. Then, he spoke too much and without caring if paparazzi trailed after her, she went over to his house.

They want to see the devil? They’ll get it. Not in a short skirt, not being banged into oblivion in Jae’s car like he had said, but banging his car instead.

The same one that he had spoken about in that infamous magazine.

Wonwoo rushes out of the car when she swings the baseball bat in the air and smashes Jae’s car’s windows. One. Two. Three and then, four. Each and every single one falling to pieces in shreds of glass against her slipper-covered feet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo questions, standing by her side and sheltering her of any sight of paparazzi.

“Destroying the car that he relished about fucking me in.”

Though a small smile appears on his face, Wonwoo clears his throat before it could fully show his thoughts. “While I think he deserves it, this is bad publicity.”

“Woo, one thing,” She says, swinging the bat and hitting the passenger’s door in the process. “You lose all your friends that feel like your family and they out to the world that they’re going to continue to be a group while you’re left alone and the man you love suddenly uncovers that all he thought about you is that you were a vagina with legs that he only stayed with because it feels good, amazing, spectacular to just fuck someone people want to be with…and you have to act well. Because people want you to be perfect. That’s all you are to them. A board to judge, compare to others and…” Hitting one of the lights, the apples of her cheeks lift up. “Fuck that. I don’t need that. The good girl of funk died today.”

Instead of judging her or leaving her alone, she feels Wonwoo’s fingers sliding through the baseball bat before testing the waters and moving it around his palm, rotating it to catch the best hit. “Why do you have his bat?”

“That’s the bat he used for winning on his latest baseball season.” She replies, looking inside her car and getting out the sharpie she uses for signing autographs. “So, I’m ruining it, just like he destroyed my dreams of love.”

The man stays silent when he swings for the first time, destroying the remaining glass at the front as a shaky smile takes over his features. “What are you writing?”

“Just a message for the paps.” She leans over the hood of the car, hair done a mess, t-shirt oversized on her body and accompanied by basketball shorts, leaving everything to the imagination. Completely different from how she was with The Moonlit Dolls. “If they want my response, I’ll give it to them.”

The sharpie writes over the yellow hood of the car, Wonwoo reading the message out loud as she scribbles it down in neat letters. “Rot in hell, trashbag. P.D, you weren’t that good at playing…me or baseball, I don’t know anymore. ”

With that, she throws the baseball bat inside the car, resting her hands in her waist and looking at the mess she’d done.

“Wonwoo?”

The wind whisks against their bodies. Wonwoo, polished. She, on the brink of crying. But she won’t anymore—she’s tired of it.

“Yes?”

“Take me home, please.” She breathes out. “I need to start writing songs for that asshole.”

###

Think of your favorite album. All time favorite. The kind that you’ll cry and bang your head with when you turn fifty and you just need to remember what it was like to be young. And there it is, the nostalgia. The ‘it’ factor that people love and adore.

It takes months to make a great album, but for her, it has never taken this long.

Two months of staring at her ceiling, trying to return to the persona that she had crafted. The lover girl of funk, who sang into a microphone about the sincere, soft love she had for her now ex-boyfriend. For the guy with the bat that swung at her heart, destroyed her career momentarily, and whined like a bitch to the media when she destroyed his car.

One of the many cars he has, at least. He’s filthy rich.

But love songs aren’t as easy to write anymore. Leave it to the ballad lovers and the people who still believe in romance, but she is not one of them. In most occasions, she just goes back and forth, greets her workers around the house, talks to them for a few minutes that turn into hours and then, she uses the excuse of going back to writing. She tries to rhyme something with ‘boy’ and it just ends there.

She’s not in love with music anymore.

The strings of her guitar become lonely, plucked and exchanged for a piano. And there, seated in front of the endless rows of keys, she can’t think of anything either. The same thing happens over and over again, roaming around the house like a ghost only to meet with her manager at the end of the night. On the rare occasion, someone wants an interview…but given that the press coverage given by newspapers and magazines had died down after The Moonlit Dolls came out with their album as six, she’s left wth silence.

Until today.

Wonwoo is a routinary man. He likes his coffee lukewarm. He enjoys the same kind of music he did when she met him. He wears scales of grays, blacks and whites, and they’re always the same shade. His hair never follows after his instructions with that one strand that always stands out on his forehead, so it’s not surprising when he enters her mansion at eight thirty-seven in the night.

With her legs extended on the armrest of her leather couch, she jots down on her notebook, not caring that her short red silky robe had fallen off one shoulder, the lace of her bra barely peeking through when she sends a smile his way.

Pink is not Wonwoo’s shade. Not until today, when his cheeks blare in said color and he puts his hands on top of his eyes.

“Shit, fuck. I’m sorry.” He turns around, stealing a chuckle from her when she sits up on the couch. Wonwoo believes in the rhymes in gentlemanly words still, and she doesn’t know why. Maybe, he’s the only thing left of real men in this world. “I—I didn’t know you weren’t decent…or…can you just tie your robe properly?”

Loud laughter leaves her lips when she fixes the robe around her body. “Sorry. I was just immersed in writing.”

That makes him drop his hands, though the perfect view of his tinted-red ears becomes the least of her worries when he widens his eyes. “You? You’re writing?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she stands up from the couch. “I think I have the title song of my next album.”

Wonwoo nears her when she sits in front of her piano, an angel in the way his eyes twinkle. “Oh, for your solo?”

“I don’t have a group anymore,” She breathes out, turning her face to the side and looking at his features from up close. The scent of champagne clings to her, dizzy in the way her eyes crinkle and her lips purse. “So, it’s my solo. I’m completely alone in this world, so the least I can do is fight in it.”

Taking the seat next to her, he says: “You’re not alone.”

She sighs at those words. “Woo,” She instructs. “Why have you never been in love?”

He raises an eyebrow, silent for a second, before answering: “Who told you I haven’t?”

“You’ve never talked about it.”

“I don’t work with you to talk about me.”

“But you tell me everything.” The singer elongates in a whine. “How much you love your mom, how your hands tremble sometimes, how your stomach hurts when you eat certain foods. That one trip you had when you were a child and how you wish you could go back to your peaceful place…” Her voice becomes quieter. “I just assumed you’ve never fallen in love…or that you’re just not interested in dating.”

One of his index fingers presses to a piano key before chuckling. Soft, tender, with his thin lips wrapping around his perfectly sculpted teeth. “I have. Tons of times.”

“Tons?”

“Like four? I don’t know.” Wonwoo shrugs. “Love is easy to feel. Hate? Even easier. It’s the hold-out that I can’t deal with. There’s always something that ends it all.”

Resting her cheek against the piano, she breathes out the insecurities that had wrapped inside her body. “I think the same way.”

Wonwoo shakes his head at that. “No.” He denies. “You’re too loveable to believe that.”

Rolling her eyes, she straightens her back. “What says that about me? The short skirts? The upbeat songs? The dating scandals? The money? The hits?” Finally, she reaches a peak, hovering her fingertips over the keys. “I want to be loved for who I am when I’m at my worst, when I can’t even get up and out of the bed. I want to be loved with my insecurities, when they take the best of me and make me lose all judgement, all rationality…” She stops. “And that won’t happen. I won’t be loved for who I was, so what’s the point in pretending to be the pretty, sensual, coquettish ex-doll?”

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo questions, voice raspy, worry bleeding on his tone.

“I don’t need men looking up my skirt, people paying to hear the love songs I write about men that never deserved me.” Continuing, she presses down on the keys, a melodramatic tune starting it all. It’s a new beginning. “I don’t want love, Wonwoo, because it’s all I’ve given the media and look how they’ve paid me. I want power, irony, hate, I want to have a voice so strong people like me will start to think that it’s okay to be alone. That we rise when we don’t depend on others.”

In typical funk fashion, the beat picks up and Wonwoo smiles at the melody. “How’s the song called?”

“Still working on the lyrics.” She says. “It starts off slow, the rain after that moment where life seems not to have a continuation and then, it picks up. People want a show? They’ll have it. But they won’t have the real me anymore.”

Wonwoo closes his eyes, shoulders swinging to the beat as a cat-like smirk takes oves his face. “Who are we getting?”

“I want a wig.” She says, earning sweet laughter from her manager. “And a suit. I’m tired of skirts. I want suits of all colors, bright, tight, loose. I want people to judge me for my dancing skills, my singing, not how sexy they think I am.”

“What color? The wig. What color should it be?” He questions, his gaze burning on the side of her face when she continues playing.

Recalling the shade of his pretty cheeks, she turns to him. “Pink.”

He repeats: “Pink?”

“The brightest pink you can find.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo tilts his head to the side, taking the notebook on top of the piano in between his hands and reading the lyrics. “Wait, why is called ‘I Died’?”

“Because the past few months have felt like that. Like I’ve actually died.” She conquers, shrugging in the process and haltering the song. “But I’m ready to be born again and under my own terms.”

“We’re still going with funk?”

“It’s my soul. I can’t leave funk.” She confesses. “But we’re working on an album and next month, we’re releasing it.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Oh no, I’m not about to overwork you.”

“Consider it this way,” Smirking, like she always does, ready to bite the bullet that life brings at her, she rests her chin on his shoulder, staring up at him. “I’m overworking you, sweetie.”

###

Wonwoo was once young and stupid. Think about it this way—what nineteen-year-old guy packs a diamond ring on his pocket, bought in the cheapest price he could find, to confess to the woman he loved since he was fourteen that the only person he saw himself with was her? Even if they weren’t together, to begin with, and she had given him all the signs of ‘I’m into anyone but you’?

That would be nineteen-year-old Jeon Wonwoo. Dumb. Stupid. A reader, but the words he figured out in books definitely did not give him more life-knowledge.

While entering backstage to the concert of the singer he represents, he remembers why he didn’t become Mr. Denied that night. He met her. Seated in that old, raunchy bar, he watched as the woman he loved—Joohyun—got off the stage, her long hair swinging on her curved back, each juncture of her clothing with her body almost making him salive until he saw her.

In a short dress, a little bit drunk, jumping up to the microphone and apologizing for the interruption but introducing themselves as The Moonlit Dolls. Seven women together, just having fun, trying to make whatever they were work.

Joohyun was talented—sulky, tender voice and moving hips that had any man to her mercy, but she didn’t have much to her apart from that. Sang Frank Sinatra on the rare ocassion, but could never write, never perform, never compose. The Moonlit Dolls had just that, and while his boss had initially denied Joohyun when he tried to get her a contract, he had a gut feeling that The Moonlit Dolls were right up his alley.

What did he do? He got them to accompany him on the next Monday to his office, and the young intern that was Jeon Wonwoo got his first recognition for finding a hidden gem.

He pulls the curtains that separate the stage to the back, and what he sees is adorable. It warms his heart in every possible way, feeling as though he’s back to when he was nineteen and he had completely forgotten about his unplanned future with Joohyun just to hear her sing. This time around, she’s not wearing her short and tight skirts and the lights of the stage cast down on the bright pink wig that rests above her shoulders. Though, her vocals never falter and her chorists accompany her with as much excitement as her smile plasters for the public to see.

His old boss, a man that now represents The Moonlit Dolls, had asked him a simple question when the group departed her. “Why do you stay with her?” He asked, with his belly shaking with every word he said, his thick moustache rubbed in between his fingers.

At the time, he only answered: “Because she’s my friend.” Though, now that he thinks about it, seeing her there, she bleeds every portion of music. Raw. Enigmatic. Beautiful.

Wonwoo always had a thing for music.

But—

“Jeon Wonwoo,” A dulcet, saccharine-sweet voice speaks over his shoulder and he turns around to see a much shorter woman. Ali, the stylist behind this new change in funk, smiles up at him while she cradles her notebook to her chest. She’s maybe two years older than him, with a rounded face, big brown eyes and her hair almost always tied in two braids. Cute, really. “Didn’t think I’d see you here today.”

“It’s the first concert. I had to be here.” Though, he was trying to calm down the paparazzi outside. Some celebrities had attended and they were trying to see who was the singer’s next love affair. He crosses his arms cross his chest, taut muscles contracting under the suit before he smiles down at her. “The wig is cuter than I thought it would be.”

“It’s a challenge.” Ali says, looking over his shoulder to stare at the woman dancing on stage, feet keeping up with every word she said. “But she makes everything work. Besides, I’d love to be the one behind this new era of funk with her styling.”

“The suit is gorgeous.”

“Thank you. Had to contact a few people to get it perfectly styled, but she rocks it.” Ali’s voice trails at that moment, a smile taking over her rounded cheeks when she swings back and forth on the sole of her feet. “Wonwoo?”

The man hums, quirking an eyebrow in the process. “Yes?”

“You haven’t called me again.”

Wonwoo doesn’t do relationships often. Not because he doesn’t believe in them, but because he doesn’t have time. Try to explain to someone who wants undivided attention that your utmost priority is your client, who is coincidentially a woman that a lot of people desire, very famous, filthy rich, and who is broken down to tears because of everyone around her leaving her but you. You, Jeon Wonwoo. It’s difficult—so, Wonwoo resorts to the easiest thing, a fling or two with close friends and a promise to call again.

He normally does. With how crazy the world is and how little he knows about strangers when having sex, he would much rather have it with people he knows. Someone whom he recognizes he has a connection with.

Six months ago, Ali was it. She practically put candles up when he went over to his apartment and it felt nice, to be treasured and worshipped for once. To be the center of attention, but each time it happened, he scavanged out of the bed and went over to his client’s mansion.

To check up on her. To make sure she was eating right. To just hear her speak, talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

He doesn’t do that with the people he sleeps with and Ali’s speeches are interesting, though not groundbreaking.

He bites his bottom lip, hissing in the process. “Sorry, I was coaching every city we were going to attend to and I stayed over at the mansion a little too much in the process. I—I haven’t really been alone…”

“Wonwoo.” Ali stops him, placing one hand on top of his chest. “Listen, I look like I’m not the type but I’m the kind of woman that says it like it is. I like you, and I’m sure you liked me when we were together because…it seemed like it. You’re not my first, I know how an interested man looks like.” She whispers, long eyelashes fluttering against her wide eyes. “But if you love her, if you love someone else, I can’t be with you—”

I’ve loved tons of people, he told her months ago when she wrote the song she’s closing this concert with.

But how could he love her? The thought had never crossed his brain. Adoration, yes, of course. He doesn’t think he could ever fully let go of her, but loving the singer that had never looked twice his way?

“I don’t love her like that.”

Ali chuckles. “I believe you,” She says. “But anyone would think otherwise. You’re glued to her hip all the time.”

“She’s my client.” Wonwoo proves with a swat of his hand. “I have to be by her side.”

The shorter woman inspects his features, calculating each of his movements before humming. “You sure?”

Smiling, he says: “Or I could just prove to you how little in love I’m with her.” Though, the words leave his lips and they don’t sound quite right to his ears, much less when he hears the melody of a saddened tune, the start of the song that watched her rise again.

He tries his best not to turn around, but his eyes waver towards where she is sitting, playing the piano with utmost conviction.

“I’m alright with that.” Ali says, trailing her hand down to his abdomen before letting go of him. “Call me next time you’re alone, will you?”

Though, the nod he gives is only to stop the conversation, turning around when Ali is gone to look at the woman on stage. The beam on her features is brighter than ever, but he knows better than to trust it. Tears and frowns gather in the worst of days, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to leave her alone just yet.

###

“”Haven’t seen these in a while.”

With his fingers palming around her hair, she looks over her shoulder to capture the glimpse of the man she knows a little too well. Wonwoo looks like he had just woken up from a nap, not quite used to the jetlag of being in a tour bus with her just yet. Years will pass by and still sleep will ride over him in tidal waves, clashing him to the bed and leaving him petrified.

For the past two months of touring, she has been a new persona. Pink hair, eccentric high notes, suits that cover what had once been the reason why she earned so much money—she took the reigns of her life based on what the headlines said. Wrote songs about betrayal, overconfidence, loneliness, ego…and they became hits.

The radio won’t stop talking about her pink locks, swinging hips and hateful words. And that’s what she wanted, until the lights dimmed and she was back in her tour bus, staring out the window to the cars passing by in silence. None of them would stop if they just knew the real her. The romanticist that feels a bit broken.

“I feel the same way sometimes.” Shivering, she rubs over her arms, connecting her gaze to the road once again when she feels Wonwoo sitting with her on the red leather seat. A brown sweater covers most of his body, accompanied by baggy pajama pants. “The character is starting to take over me and when I’m not as confident as I am on stage, it feels…weird.”

Wonwoo rubs at his left eye, sighing deeply when he says: “I don’t want you to become her, the woman on stage, permanently.”

She chuckles. “First time I’ve heard a man say that.” Her voice lowers, resting her cheek against the couch as she looks into his eyes. “Why?”

“You’re fantastic as you are.”

That’s her cue to let out the least lady-like snort. “Oh yeah, what screams fantastic about me?” She asks, turning around to sit properly and not get dizzy by looking at the road for too long. “My waving feelings? My grounding insecurities? The fact that I can’t fully voice out how I feel unless I do it in a symphony?” The words leave her a bit too quickly, and Wonwoo’s lips curl when he shakes his head.

“Try again.” Wonwoo indicates. “There’s good in you.”

Bringing her knees up to her chest, she rests her chin in between them. “I guess.” A mumble leaves her. “But I don’t see it…” Her voice trails. “My sister once told me there is someone for anyone. That person that will love my flaws as much as I hate them…but they always leave after getting a taste.” She says, eyes twinkling with indemn sadness. “Sometimes, I wonder if whoever created the world forgot to create someone for me. Decided that I wasn’t worthy of a fairytale and—”

Her manager back at her, his hand coming up to her cheek and rubbing over the skin. “Do you know you have a mole here?” His thumb touches, softly, almost like a kiss against her face. She closes her eyes tightly, humming in acknowledgement. “I always thought it added something else to your face. It didn’t make you uglier and it didn’t make you prettier. It just made you…you. If the night sky wasn’t tainted by stars, would it be half as sensationalized as it is now?”

She opens her eyes then, leaning into his warm touch. Craving. Needing. Wonwoo feels a thousand times more necessary these days—and she knows she could probably live without him, but she doesn’t want to. They could give her the most perfect man to have as a manager and she still wouldn’t take him…because they are not Wonwoo.

“Maybe, my personality has a thousand moles.”

“All of us have flaws. Some better than others.” Wonwoo whispers, tracing the strands of her hair and tucking them behind her ear. Since when have his brown eyes become her axis, the reason why her anxiousness doesn’t creep up on her? “Maybe, if you loved yourself with as much strength as you loved the people that broke you, you wouldn’t be having these issues.”

Pressing a chaste kiss to his palm, she breathes out a warm gush of oxygen. “I wonder if someone will love you with the strength you deserve to be loved with, Woo.”

A small smile takes over his features. “I sure hope it happens one day.” He confesses.

The singer, however, is more observant than she lets anyone believe. “Maybe Ali is on the way there.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, laughing. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on, Woo. You’re totally getting it on with her.”

Though, she would never understand why his cheeks blare with her but at the mention of having sex with her stylist, he doesn’t react. “…How are you so sure?”

“One, you two got awfully close at the tour and I know when two people are fucking.” She replies, placing her hand on his thigh when she leans forward, as if sharing a secret. “Why her?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

A whine rips from her throat. “You knew everything about Jae and I!”

“Because the motherfucker got out of your room with his dick out. I didn’t decide to know about you two and your rendezvouses.”

Sighing, she whispers. “True.” Still, her finger pokes his side. “Well, an eye for an eye. Tell me—”

At the repetition of the last two words, incessant, he sighs.

“She’s just there, okay?” His voice is soft in the mellow night. “It’s not the truest romance. We just help each other not feel as lonely. I don’t have the time to have anyone when…”

Her eyes widen, looking up and down his features when she completes his sentence: “When you have me.”

“That’s not what I mean—”

“You’re…God, you’re always taking care of me. That’s why…”

Grasping her face in between his hands, Wonwoo speaks a tad quicker than usual. “I choose to wake up every morning and spend every possible time with you. Not because I’m your manager, but because you’re the best person I have ever met and I adore you to bits and pieces. Me being with you has nothing to do with you.”

Before nonsense could drape from her lips like a shower of insecurities, Wonwoo interrupts her with a kiss on her cheek.

“Now, let’s go to sleep and stop overthinking. You’re giving me a headache and I don’t have to listen to your thoughts all the time.”

Cackling, her fingers interlock with his, dragged somewhere on the tour bus to take a nap…or have a good night of sleep, for the first time in a while.

###

“Maybe, it’s time you move on, you know?”

When Wonwoo was nine years old, he asked his dad what love was. He said it was a long time. His mom, on the other hand, gave him more of a dreamy answer. She plastered a smile on her face and changed what his father had said initially—she mumbled, while scrubbing on the dirty plates of shared dinner, that love was patience. He never asked again, for Wonwoo thought he would never get to understand it fully.

But Ali doesn’t feel like love. Not with her eccentric baby blue dress and the lights of the club bathing over her body. Not with the way she brings her beer up to her lips after taking a puff of a cigarette. Instead, she dangles her legs off the seat she’s perched on, staring at his client and friend as she talks to a tall, blonde man while dancing, a smile forever taking over her face when in public.

Wonwoo stops holding her waist to pull away, leaving his drink to the side to quirk an eyebrow. These parties are not his thing—he hates club as much as a forty-year-old man who just wants to go home does, but he has to attend them from time to time. It’s publicity for his client and connections with other artists come from this in most occasions. Ali just decided to tag along, something about the killer look she put on their shared client that she just had to see.

“What are you talking about?” He questions, but when he takes a sip of his drink, his hands placed on his lap, he studies the person they are talking about and indeed, if looks could kill, this one would take him straight to the grave. A yellow bodysuit covers her body, the wide pants making her hips stand out, just the tiniest bit of skin, enough for imagination, showcased around her chest but the diamond necklace around her neck spoke of expensiveness.

“You know,” Ali says, jutting her chin out. “She’s earned far more as a solo this past year than she did in The Moonlit Dolls and it’s obvious every manager in the game wants her now.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “She wouldn’t trade me.” If he’s certain of one thing it is that they’re here to ride or die in this long road that is success. He will stand by her side until his last breath lets him—

Ali shakes her head, fingertips scattering across the collar of his shirt, her index finger toying around his collarbone. “Babe—”

“Wonwoo.” He corrects, looking at her from behind his rounded glasses. “I told you not to make this too personal.”

The stylist rolls her big eyes. “All I’m saying, Wonwoo, is that she’s talking to Ahn Seojun right now. The son of one of the biggest managers in the game—”

His teeth tighten under the force of his jaw when he stands up from his seat. “I don’t care. I’m sure she won’t—”

“What’s with this blind trust you have with her, Wonwoo?” Ali questions, tipsy when she gets up from her seat, eyes blaring with anger. He stops on his tracks, turning around to look at her, her scent repulsive in tainted alcohol. “She’s no angel, let me tell you.”

“No one is.” He replies, voice vacant of any extra feelings. “I know she wouldn’t leave me for Ahn Seojun or whoever his father is.”

Ali pushes at his chest, a huff leaving her lips. “Get it through your head. What you have with her is not normal! This is not the relationship a manager has with his client!”

Shaking his head in the process, venom bites at his words, but respectfulness is always kept in what he says. “And you shouldn’t care—”

“Wonwoo, I fucking love you, alright?!” The older woman screams at the top of her lungs, tears cradling her vision when she drops the bottle to the side, pieces scattering across the floor. “And all you fucking do, all y—you’ve managed to do all along is love her. I’m sure you’re with her—”

The man in question raises his eyebrows, taking her by the shoulders to stop her from hitting his chest any longer. Well, that’s trouble. Maybe, it wasn’t such a good idea to get involved with someone from the same staff team as himself.

“I’m not.”

“Look me in the eyes, Wonwoo!” Ali exclaims, voice ragged. “Look me in the eyes and tell me it has never crossed your head that you could be in love with her.”

Three seconds of silence follow after his words.

The darkened walls and moody atmosphere of the club becomes more interesting, eyes wandering as he thinks of all the years he had spent with her. When awakening to the sight of her, smiling down at him and asking him to join her for breakfast, had he thought of love? When seeing her in her robe, ready to work on a new album, had he thought of love? When listening to her pleas of forgetting her past, when growing up was harder than even thinking about the future, mixed with the tears of memories she could never get rid of, had he fallen in love?

He’s not sure. He told her once, a little bit over a year ago, that he had fallen in love a bunch of times…but they had never quite felt like this.

“Wonwoo?” Ali’s voice wavers when she questions him again, but Wonwoo simply purses his lips together, a tight line made out of them.

Love is the patience of knowing she would never be his, but for him to wait forever until he saw her happy. Truly contented. That’s what love is.

And he’ll die one day, most likely, telling his children or grandchildren that he had fallen in love with someone once and he never could say it, but that he did his best to have her live her truest love story. With someone who isn’t her manager, of course.

“I am not in love with her.” Wonwoo lies, fixing the coat over his shoulders. “But you’re fired, Ali. I can’t have you create drama between my client and myself.”

The curses that follow after him when he turns around and goes look for her won’t haunt him forever, but they do that night.

###

A gush of air is stolen from her lungs when the new stylists wrap a corset around her waist over her suit, the lacey white material contrasting against the beige walls backtage. She’s about to perform for a show, and they love seeing better—perfect bodies, sculpted smiles, kicking off with an enchanting lifestyle. No one realizes that celebrities are not truly what they show.

“I can’t believe she said that.” The pink wig had been exchanged for a lukewarm blonde, her eyes elongated by thick eyeliner, the shortest stylist fixing the tie around her neck, the dark gray suit matching his own. Anyone would think she inspired herself off him.

Little does Wonwoo know that she did.

“Woo,” She starts. “I would never, ever, think of replacing you with anyone. Much less whoever that Ahn guy is. We were just talking about Queen’s latest album because it was a banger. Can’t blame me for being a bit jealous of Freddie thinking about it before I did—”

“I know you’d never replace me.” Wonwoo conquers, pushing himself away from the wall to get closer to her. The stylists move away when he nears her, his hands resting on her shoulders when she fixes her lipstick, thumb rubbing sightly to make the pink a bit duller. “I’m sorry I made you lose your stylist.”

“You should be sorry about the new stylists wanting me to wear a corset.” She jokes, placing both hands on her chest. “The ladies look good, but I’m afraid I could split in half if I reach a high note with my chest voice.”

The man by her side, with long hair in the styles of The Beatles in Yellow Submarine, widens his eyes when he gasps. “Shit, guys, we forgot about the boots!”

The woman by the tie gasps. “No way!”

“Where are they?” Someone else says.

“They’re in the car. They were too heavy to bring them all the way here. Sorry!”

The singer raises her eyebrows at that. “What do you mean too heavy? I have to dance with those—”

But the stylists don’t listen to her, rushing out of their places to get to that goddamned car. Instead, she chuckles at Wonwoo’s reflection, turning around to interlock their hands together. Typical nature of two friends, right?

“You look beautiful, but this is not you.”

“That’s what people like.” She replies, eyelashes fluttering when she looks up and down his face before humming. “I’m sorry I had you break things off with Ali. I just—Well, you decided it. How could she have thought that you were in love with me?”

Wonwoo becomes silent for a second before a broken smile appears on his features. Maybe, he feels uncomfortable about the situation? After all, he has always been a bit closed up about relationships. At least, that’s what she thinks.

“I would be fucking lucky, Woo.” She says, turning around and bending over the vanity to run her fingers over her mascara-coated lashes, not missing the blush that takes over his features. “A handsome, capable, loving, caring, intelligent and sweet man deciding that I’m worthy of love? His love? I’d die on the spot.”

Wonwoo chuckles at her words, juvenile in its approach, when he rests one hand on the small of her back. “You’ll get him one day.”

“He better hurry, then.” Her answer comes quickly, turning around until her chest is pressed to Wonwoo’s, his eyes lost in something she can’t quite pinpoint. “I’m a romanticist, man. I just…I just need a man who knows that he wants me with so much force that he’ll do anything to make me feel loved. And let me love him back, of course, I’m not as egotistical—”

Anyone who looked at Jeon Wonwoo in all his glory—covered in a suit, with glasses and his hair pushed back, would have never thought of him to be the type to be surprising. Though, when his lips melt against her own in the sweetest of touch, capturing her breath when he closes his eyes delicately and lets his body cover her own, her back digging onto the edge of the vanity, she feels a part of her dying. Dying in the best sense of the word, like how it feels when someone goes to sleep and they disconnect for a while.

Wonwoo tastes like the coffee he had earlier this afternoon, with the stain of his heart dragging across the way his lips softly part and breathe out utmost adoration. Her eyes close when her hands relax against his chest, devoring the feeling of being unique for once. Of having someone, that person, even for just a second. He’s soft, albeit a bit lazy, delicate in the way he approaches the kiss and molds his hand against the small of her back, abdomen flushed against hers.

When she seeks for more of him, he pulls away, his eyes crinkling under the weight of his smile when he says.

“I hope you find someone who loves you like that someday.”

Though, his cheeks blare in all shades of pink when he pulls away, fixing his tie when trying to leave.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yes.”

Before she could tell him anything else, the stylists come back with the huge—just not to say humongous—shoes.

And Wonwoo leaves without listening to what she wanted to say.

I hope that someone who loves me like that is you.

###

All she can think about while seated next to the host show, perpetuated in a beige suit with his bald head shining under the harsh lights of the studio, is the man that stands somewhere behind the cameras and that had kissed the tenderness of romance back into her heart.

So, she crosses one leg over the other various times, tries to laugh a little harder and opts to make everyone believe in the public, both at home and present there, that she’s lurking for her fans, taking in the love that they’ve gifted her after being away for so long.

The vinyl version of her album rests against the wood of the desk that keeps the host away from her, laughter leaving his lips when he points at it with his extended palm. Finally, she stops looking at Wonwoo, whose eyes are trained in the scenery with a soft smile on his face and instead, she tries to think of something else.

Why would Wonwoo kiss her? It’s not like…it’s not like he was interested in her, right?

“This is a big blow for The Moonlit Dolls, ain’t it?” The host asks, looking down at his notes with the eye of a reporter. “Seven times a million seller and on the top list of songs to play on the radio months after its release. How do you feel about it?”

“It’s…stellar. I feel like I’m over the moon.” She replies, voice sultry, aspiring to sound humble even whens he knows her tears and pain is plasterd on that album. “I couldn’t have done it without my fans.”

“Did you know The Dolls’ latest album only sold twenty thousand copies?” The host looks up and her heart gets caught up in her throat. Those are the people she once trusted and sure, she would have loved to see them fail on the first few months of grieving their friendship…but they were talented. Sunshine, now the composer, had continued down the sexy and romantic vibe of The Dolls. “Critics called it a failed try to make music for housewives that want to be sexy after twenty years of marriage.”

She hisses, her smile long forgotten. “They’re talented. I have nothing to say about them.”

The host, however, listened to her album in its entirety. “Nothing to worry about. Your album said enough.” Laughter coming from the public, the man fixes the burgundy tie around his neck. “Why isn’t Jae in the album?”

There it is. She spares one look towards Wonwoo and she sees his smile faltering, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows harshly.

“I’m sorry, who?” Sarcasm drips from her voice when she fakes a smirk, leaning one elbow on the armrest of her chair before pointing at the public. “I want these people with me to feel empowered. We can feel complete without someone by our sides. That’s my message. I may not have pulled it through in the past, but it’s what I stand for now.”

It’s not half a lie, but part of her wondered if she would ever find love. Maybe, it’s closer than she had imagined.

“I agree. I agree…” Though, show hosts are known to be pushy. “But you dated Jae Kim for three years. You two were practically the new Yoko and John. What happened?”

She shrugs. “He’s…” Her voice trails, figuring out if she should say the truth or spit out irrelevant lies. “He’s not the subject of my inspiration, that’s it. I just like to separate my job from my romantic life.”

“He doesn’t do that.” The host says, fixing the glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose when he puts her album down. “He dedicated his latest homerun to you, you know?”

That doesn’t do anything to help her situation, and what she wants to do at that moment is stand up and tell Wonwoo that the kiss meant something. That Jae Kim himself, the man that broke her heart, could come over tonight and she wouldn’t even look his way.

“That’s good.” She says, trying to keep her stardom intact. People don’t like a bit of sass. “I think I’d rather be known as something else than Jae Kim’s inspiration behind a homerun.”

The host clears his throat, a smile on his face. “Would you ever go back to him?”

It’s her time to laugh, but when she looks towards Wonwoo, he’s already taking off somewhere else. Shit. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t believe in second chances.”

“But all your songs were once about him.” The host curls his hand in the air, as if stating the obvious. Her eyes divert towards him once again. “Is it, maybe, that the ex-doll has found a Ken for herself?”

This interview is going horrid. This is the moment she realizes that no matter how hard she has worked for the past year, she will always be known for something. A sex symbol that hung around Jae Kim and sported short skirts. This alone makes the corset around her waist constraint her from breathing properly when she shakes her head.

“I’d be lucky to have someone else.” She whispers, looking towards the public before squinting her eyes. “…But that’s never possible. You’re either successful or in love, and when I choose to have both, it ends up plastered on the media. Consumed as if I’m a product.” Leaning back on her seat, she connects her gaze with the host’s. “You see, I’d love to love someone, but I’m unable to. How can I promise someone happiness in the world I live in, when I’m my saddest ever since I started being a celebrity?” Her voice departs a little, broken, when she plasters a smile on her face and chuckles lightly. “So, I’m free as a bird as of now, and not returning to the past.”

Though Wonwoo hadn’t listened, she wished he would have. For, she would love to have him by her side, but she didn’t want to taint him, break him quite like the media did for her.

###

One month passes by without the kiss being spoken about, but the tension is unbearable.

Sure, Wonwoo should have never tried to kiss her. He was irresponsible, if not unprofessional, or all kinds of wrong adjectives when he had decided to lay his lips on her, caress her skin with his own, want to do nothing more than to unleash her realest self away from the corset, over the vanity and kiss her until her lips were swollen. He would have, maybe, taken her out for dinner later and hoped to lay by her side by the end of the night, with each breath of her own mingling with him.

But he couldn’t. He knows he can’t. Not when he promised to be her manager, with a contract and all, and wanted her to succeed. What would anyone think of him if they saw her with her in front of a camera? Or even worse, what would the media think? She had gone from successful, rich men with snarky tongues and scandalous sex lives to the tamest man she could find.

His pencil taps against his agenda, seated on the passenger’s seat as he reads their schedule for today.

“We don’t have much else to do.” He states, the black, sleek car they find themselves in matching his dark suit. He stares up, studying her profile when he spits out: “The studio has been scheduled for tonight. You can record anything you want until two, and then, we’re off to sleep.”

Though, she doesn’t seem to be listening, her natural hair tied behind her back, sporting baggy clothing when she lifts herself off the seat the slightest to look through the review mirror. “Shit.” She grits through her teeth, sitting straighter and picking up the pace of the car.

“What’s going on?” Suddenly, she’s rushing through the streets, her eyes widened and her jaw tightened in hatred.

“Someone is following us. The paps.”

“What?” Wonwoo has never been in this position. He’s always the one sneaking her away from the paparazzi, not the man caught with her on camera. “Are you sure?”

A short, sarcastic laugh leaves her at that. “I’ve been in this business for long enough to differentiate a normal car from a paparazzi’s.” Though, she’s rushing through the streets, moving away from their normal road towards the studio to lose them. “I don’t want them to capture you in camera.”

That brings a pang to his chest. Of course, she didn’t mind it when it was Jae Kim or one of her love affairs. Not when she’s in parties or drinking to her heart’s content. That kiss meant nothing to her, perhaps embarrassed her beyond a tainted friendship. “It doesn’t matter. People know I’m your manager either way—”

“I don’t want them to talk about you, Woo.” The nickname drops from her tongue sweetly, looking through the review mirror and giving another harsh turn. “I don’t need them to ruin the only good thing left in my life. I don’t want anyone judging you or comparing you to the past because—”

“Why would it matter?” A bitter tone follows his statement. “I’m nothing special. If they talk about me, they will forget about me as well—”

“Goddamn it,” She curses, harshness in her voice when she tries to voice out her concerns. “Wonwoo, listen to me!”

“I just don’t get you!” His voice rises as well, losing his poised tone. “All celebrities are accompanied by their manager!”

“But you’re not just a manager to me anymore, stupid ass!” She conquers, his voice growing tinier when he hears her argument. She manages to lose them with one more turn, not a fit farther away from the city than they were at the beginning, but he can only concentrate on the way the street lights cast down on her face, shadows merged with beauty. “I—I…The night you kissed me, all I could think about is how I don’t see you the same way, Woo. I’ve never been kissed like that.”

His lips remain sealed for a few seconds, before a grin appears on his face. “Whoever didn’t kiss you like you deserved was crazy.”

“I don’t want people to know about you because I want to make things right.” With that, she parks the car, tall trees and shadowed spots keeping them hidden from the eyes of the world. They’re just two people who no one cares about at that moment. “It’s not about the kiss, but it’s about the person, Wonwoo. I want to be able to have you for myself and I would rot in hell with jealousy whenever I saw you with Ali. I want to be able to feel love and give love to you and only you, because you’re the only person I have known and the only one who has wanted to get to know me.” She turns towards him, fingertips spread on the steering wheel as she speaks. “I don’t need a love story, but I want one with you. Because if there is someone in this world that could be my person, that one created for me, it’s you.”

Emotions wash over him so fast he can’t mention them when crossing his head. Love. Adoration. Patience. Resolution. It’s when his eyes look down at her face, at her lips, the clothing that clads her and differentiates her from the persona she is on stage, does he realize that he was never in love with music…or her music. He wasn’t in love with the rhymes or the love songs.

He was in love with her.

If he had to tell this story to his grandchildren, he wouldn’t know who gave the first step and connected their lips. Her hands fist the edge of his jacket, not caring about the uncomfortableness of the cramped car, kissing him with tenderness and patience, but with that air of necessity that comes with the slow movement of her lips. His hands tangle on her hair, tilting her head to the side as he does what he did a month ago…and God, how he missed it.

He doesn’t know how he spent thirty-one days not doing this, not craving for this.

It’s then he realizes that he hasn’t been in love a bunch of times. Or well, he has—he has fallen in love with her in numerous occasions, like a fool would, dragging his hands down to her waist and bringing her over to his lap as he plants seeds of small kisses across her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her collarbone, a shaky breath leaving her when she rests her hands on each side of his face and pleas—

“Please, Woo. Tell me you’ll give us a try.”

###

1972.

“D—Do you think I ask her to go out with me?”

When he recalls the story of how he found The Moonlit Dolls, he almost always forgets Jeonghan was there. For, the man was wasted, as in, he couldn’t even think straight when he looked up from his position on the table and connected his gaze with the singer he had just met tonight, dancing to her will with an enormous grin on her face.

Wonwoo is there for Joohyun—a lover boy through and through, and he knows Jeonghan is the type to get who he wants when he wants it. With his long black hair tucked behind his ears, his stench of whiskey and his intelligent smirk, Jeonghan could try it with the vocalist and see what ensues, but his stomach twists, turns, in a way that comes with a bit of egotistical nature.

Sure, he’s not going to have anything with her. He’s certain of it, but she’s too pretty for Jeonghan. Too unique.

“I don’t think you should.” Wonwoo says, crossing his arms across his chest. “I think she’s way out of your league.”

Jeonghan scoffs at that, long fingers rubbing at his pink, blushed face before asking: “And who’s a good match for her? You?”

With a sip of his beer and a tilt of his head, Wonwoo studies the woman on stage. No. She’s too impossible. A client is more of what he sees in her. “Only in my dreams.” He replies then, a smile taking over his features when Jeonghan swings him by the shoulder.

“You want her for yourself!”

He chuckles. “I totally do not.” But, he stands up before Jeonghan could—not that it is that difficult, his friend is as shit-faced as he could get—. “I just want to be her manager, that’s all.”

Jeonghan takes the last few droplets of his whiskey down his throat before chuckling dryly. “Give it time. You’ll be head over heels for her.”

And that was the night they met.

###

“It’s still surreal at times, you know.”

Laying next to Wonwoo, with his nimble fingers tracing the curve of her shoulder, his arm weighted down by her back as they look up at the ceiling of her bedroom, his naked torso underneath her cheek while she plays with the outline of his ribcage by his side, never once stopping her train of thought.

His chuckle reaches her face, shaking her slightly when he rests a kiss on top of her head, albeit a bit too short. “What does?”

Though, when she interlocks her bare legs with his, looking up into his brown eyes, she only lets out a soft smile, innocence an irony to the situation they had found themselves in minutes earlier. “That I have a secret boyfriend and it’s you. Out of all people.”

Wonwoo quirks one of his sculpted eyebrows, asking: “Would you want it to be someone else?”

Hovering her face over his, she pecks his lips once before shaking her head softly. “I wouldn’t want anyone else but you.” Though, when she lays back on his chest, his heart still picking up its pace even after four months of dating, she questions: “Does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?”

“That you’re kept a secret.” She mumbles, turning around to rest a kiss on his sternum before resting her chin on top of his hard chest.

Wonwoo has to think about it for a moment. Sure, he had always been the kind of man women would introduce to their parents, whom people made plans with on the long run, but he doesn’t mind it. If anything, he would be petrified if he happened to be caught by the cameras.

So his thumb reaches for her chin, lifting her face up the slightest to part his lips and let his tongue softly caress her bottom lip. He delves into the feeling of her, closing his eyes softly and daydreaming about their future when she relaxes against him.

With one hand resting on her back, and the other sparcing across the mole he adored on her face, he says: “I don’t mind being your secret as long as I’m yours.”

###

WOMEN IN MUSIC – Why the most famous funk singer decided to never date again, and how it worked to her favor in her career.

The eighties are crazy, Wonwoo has figured out. Headlines are better for women, at least, but journalists are still very superficial in what consists of getting to know an artist. With a deep brown suit resting over his body and his hair resting under his earlobes after he had decided to let it grow, he watches his fiancé pose for the cover of her third album.

I Chose You, the album was titled, though no one knew about it yet. The blurring sunshine and pink skies behind her were gorgeous as she sported another styling change, not as reckless and seductive as her initiative in music; and he couldn’t be prouder. There, with the sand bathing his stylish and elegant shoes, he sits back and reads the newspaper. About his girl. Claiming that her last love and the man that broke her heart was none other than Jae Kim.

Her heart’s alright, if anyone is wondering.

But what surprises him is how his new assistant takes the newspaper in between her hands, the tall and slender woman reading over the article with studious and small eyes before gasping lightly.

“Shit,” Hana curses, her bleached and long blonde hair cascading down her back and moving with the wind as Wonwoo studies the celebrity that poses naturally in front of the cameras. “I wonder what it takes to get someone like her to cave in…”

The sun masks the faint smile on his face, his hair moved by the wind when he crosses one leg over the other. For once, he feels tranquil, much more when she connects her gaze with his and sends a smile his way.

“I think it takes bravery.” He confesses, though he’s sure Hana and none of their team know about their relationship. They have kept it a secret, through and through. “She’s too much of a woman for most men.”

Hana nods along to what he says, looking down at the article. “And do you think she’ll find someone someday?”

Maybe it’s crazy, but Wonwoo doesn’t think they found each other. He likes to believe all roads would have led them to meet. “Give it time.” He shrugs. “I’m sure someone will come.”

Though, the laughter that threatens to slip his lips doesn’t leave him, he loves the irony in what they are.

Two people who asked each other where their destined soul was, not noticing that they were meant to be.

Or, alternatively, Wonwoo wanted to ask her out that night at the bar when he met her and Jeonghan was about to do it, but bravery never came his way.

Patience brought him all the power to finally kiss her, though silent in his approach, still getting the best outcome.

PLAYLIST: leave the door open – bruno mars ; adore you – harry styles ; lmly – jackson wang ; hold up – beyonce ; maniac – conan gray ; i hear a symphony – cody fry ; japanese denim – daniel caesar ; vienna – billy joel ; someone you loved – lewis capaldi

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #kpop scenarios #writing #wonwoo au #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #manager!wonwoo #i had this idea in my head for a whileeeeeeee #and it's a gift for one of my fave wonwoo stans that denies she has wonwoo as her 1 on her bias list #but whateverrrr

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money.

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut

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