#I didn't react - didn't sing

[chevvy-yates]

what annoys me recently is getting messages from bots with their stupid links.

Dude, u think I'm this dumb to click on your fake shit? They can't even write appropriately.

Fucking Hell Site here.

all bots and porn shit and gdi I can't post male nipples wthout having to bother if its okay or not.

[mitamicah]

Oh look at that 👀👀👀 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳three weeks t- anniversary 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

I love the fact that you are quicker than I can make the voice updates x'D

Thank you tho, Jay :'D

[swordymacaroni]

A/N-In my defense, its 2:07 am.

Pairings- Toji x Reader

Summary- How does Toji react to reader pretending to be upset over something he said?

🎀"Be quiet, would you?" Toji barks from across the room, halting your singing.

You trail off, face falling. "M'sorry," you mutter, face pressed against the pillow. Your singing wasn't that bad, right?

An awkward silence descends in your room, and instantly, Toji regrets telling you to stop.

"You've been singing that one verse on repeat since last week," he attempts to soften his words from before with a lousy explanation. "It gets annoying as fuck after a while."

That does nothing to help the situation, as you just make a noncommittal sound and curl your body around a pillow.

"Doll..." he sighs, before you hear footsteps heading towards you, and the mattress dips down on the other side. Toji snicks an arm around your waist and tries to pull you closer, only for you to scoot further away.

"I didn't mean in like that," he jests. You hum. "Sure you didn't." You're not really bothered by his outbursts anymore; its just his second nature and he means nothing by them.

But just to mess with him, you add a fake sniff. You can hear the sudden urgency in his voice when he speaks again.

"Doll. Turn around?" You swear his voice tremors slightly. Biting back a grin, you press yourself into the bed. "Baby-" he grabs you by the arm, trying to turn you over, to see if you're actually crying or not.

You chuck a pillow at his face and wail, "You don't love me ANYMOREEE! Why? Am I not pretty enough?" You let out the fakest sob known to mankind, but he falls for it, increasingly getting more frustrated as you move away from his reach. "No, fuck- I love you-didn't mean anything by it. Fucking sing my ears off, I'll not say a damn word-"

You can't keep up the façade and burst out laughing. He freezes, staring over at you, at your shaking shoulders and red face, before he rolls over you, forcing you to look into his eyes. When you finally stop laughing, he gives you a soft slap on your bottom, eyes narrowed. "Not funny, doll. Had me scared." He collapses onto you, pressing his face against your neck in annoyance.

"Serves you right for being a meanie," you mutter as you card your fingers through his hair.

You both fall into a peaceful trance, savoring each others scent and warmth when Toji speaks again. "I have a gun in the bedside drawer."

You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off.

"If I ever say I don't love you, feel free to shoot me with it."

You kiss the top of his head.

"Noted."

[churipu]

"SHUT UP, MAMA." 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. fem! reader, husband! au, i made names for your children but feel free to disregard it

note. i remembered this tiktok trend, just figured i should write about how the jjk men would react to their child doing this.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo had a day off. it's rare for a jujutsu sorcerer like him — being the strongest, he's an asset to the jujutsu world. so him being in a day off is like a miracle to both you and your seven year old son, who might i say, is an exact carbon copy of your husband.

"honey, you need to put your toys away. it's almost dinner time," you said from the kitchen, gojo by your side, ready to help you with anything.

"let me take that," he sings out, grabbing two plates from your grasp — you chuckled, letting him take the white colored ceramic disk, "looks good, baby."

as you and gojo walked out of the kitchen, placing the plates on top of the dining table. gojo pulled out your seat for you. habits die hard, the male has always pulled your seat out for you since the very first date.

your son. marise gojo. a boisterous little boy, absolutely loves to play with his rocket toys, and somehow believes he's a little astronaut. there he sat in front of the TV, playing with his toys, an astronaut helmet covering his small head.

"buddy," gojo calls out to the boy, "it's dinner time, clean up your toys. mama made some good food."

when gojo's call didn't work, you tried doing it next, "marise, your food's going to get cold, honey."

the young boy didn't make any visible movements, but you heard him yell out with his high pitched voice, "shut up, mama!"

gojo looks at you briefly. i mean — as a father, he couldn't believe his own son said that. to his mother. gojo wasn't one to get mad, in fact, marise is a total daddy's boy. but he felt angry, frustrated, annoyed, all at once.

he wasted no time leaping up from his seat, approaching the young boy. his smile no longer visible; gojo was unhappy. the male used one of his hands to take off marise's astronaut helmet, tossing it aside before grabbing the young boy by his small waist.

marise didn't complain, and he still has no idea of what his father is about to do. so he just sat still in gojo's embrace — until gojo puts him down beside you, "say sorry."

marise's bright blue eyes stared up at gojo in confusion, "say sorry to mama, marise."

it wasn't "baby" or "buddy" like gojo used to address him by, and marise wasn't stupid. he knew he did something wrong, but he just didn't get what or why his father is telling him to apologize to you.

"sorry mama . . ." marise's soft voice resounds.

"do you know what you did wrong?" gojo questions sternly.

marise shook his head, his eyes watering at gojo's tone of voice, "no papa . . ."

gojo sighs, he squats down and gazes into his son's eyes, "you should never say 'shut up' to mama or papa, okay? not to anyone, 'ts not polite. don't ever do that again, now say sorry to mama for saying that."

marise nods his head and turns to look at you, his eyes watering — it's not everyday that you get to see papa gojo get angry, "'m sorry mama, i will never do that again," the young boy finally cried, letting his tears fall out of his doe eyes.

you can't help but to smile at the young boy, pulling him onto your lap to cradle him, "don't do that again, baby. 'ts not polite," your fingers grazed his chubby cheeks, wiping his tears away, "and if mama or papa tells you to stop playing and eat, what do you do?"

marise sniffled, "stop playing and eat."

"good boy," you kissed his little forehead, "go give papa a kiss."

and that marise did, gojo immediately picking the boy into his arms with a big smile, "give papa two kisses, buddy."

sure, gojo is a fun parent. but he knows how to teach his children boundaries — what to do and what not to do. he's scary when he's angry.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

megumi is the child that made you and toji think you both should have another child — fukuo is the child that made you and toji stop wanting more children. not saying that fukuo is a bad kid, but the boy is relentless.

with a pretty large age difference between megumi and fukuo with six years, sometimes megumi had to teach fukuo some manners, telling the younger boy what's right and wrong. when fukuo misbehaves, it's megumi and you to the rescue — while toji would usually chuckle it off since, well, he's a little minus on the manners part as well. but you're working on that.

toji said so himself, he wouldn't mind fukuo misbehaving on some things. but the male did set some boundaries up for both of his boys and how they should act well towards you (and him).

today, megumi is twelve and fukuo is six. both of your boys look alike, "mama, 'm gonna be staying late at school because we have a play coming, 'm gonna help my classmate decorate the stage," megumi tells you as he puts on his shoes.

"alright, baby. have a good day at school, i love you," you pressed a kiss on megumi's head, waving him goodbye.

as megumi disappears behind the front door, you walk back inside the house, "toji, wake fukuo up, please. 'm getting his breakfast ready," toji who had his eyes on the television curtly nodded, sluggishly walking towards the boy's room.

"hey, champ." toji approaches the boy, who was sleeping soundly, "your mother's made some good food f' you. if you're not gonna eat it, i'll steal your portion."

fukuo squirmed a bit, but his eyes were still shut tightly, "fukuo," toji gently shook the boy, poking his cheek.

like anyone, fukuo didn't like his sleep disturbed, "papa, stop . . ." he mumbled out, shifting his small body so his little back was facing toji, "five more minutes."

toji sighs, "five more minutes."

he then went out of the room, "he asked for five more minutes," he informs you — sitting back down on the couch.

"five more minutes," was not an unfamiliar statement to you, especially coming from fukuo who had always managed to, of course, butcher the concept of time right after. it was either an hour, or more.

so you waited five minutes, and when the young boy didn't emerge from his bedroom, you found yourself walking towards it, "fukuo? baby, come on, mama made you breakfast . . ." you turn on the light, which made fukuo subconsciously twitch.

"fukuo, come on, papa will eat your breakfast . . ." you shook the boy gently.

"shut up, mama."

you blinked in surprise, but only managed out an exasperated sigh at the boy's sudden outburst, until all of a sudden toji appears beside you — his hand wet, and he slides his palm across the boy's face with a serious look on his face.

"wake up, fukuo. i won't tell you this again," toji mutters out, "three."

oh, god. the countdown was every kid's nightmare, "two," including fukuo's — shown by how the young boy immediately sat up on his bed, "apologize to your mother."

fukuo furrowed his brows, "why?"

"you don't tell her to shut up. apologize." you were just there silently, a little shocked at how toji had become so serious when he's usually so laid-back with the boys, "say sorry and eat your breakfast."

fukuo swallows his saliva nervously and scoots over to you, "'m sorry for telling you to shut up mama, i promise i won't do that again . . ." he whispers, throwing his short arms around your neck — burying his face into the crook of your neck.

you pulled him close, carrying the young boy in your arms, "'ts okay baby, no more telling people to shut up, okay? 's not nice, it'll hurt people's feelings."

"okay mama . . . 'm sorry for hurting your feelings," fukuo pulls back slightly, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before facing toji, "'m sorry for hurting mama's feelings, papa."

toji placed his palm over the boy's face, covering it entirely, a sheepish smirk plastered on his lips, "go brush y'r teeth and eat your breakfast, mama made some pancakes."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami is such a girl dad. ever since he found out that both of you were going to have a baby girl, he's delighted. just knowing that he'd have a mini version of the both of you made his stomach churn in happiness.

hoshi. nanami hoshi is her name. it was a very peaceful six years of raising her — but they said there will be a devil baby phase, and here she was. whining, throwing tantrums over things she didn't get. it was honestly tiring, but you knew this was a risk of raising a child.

"hoshi, baby, please stand up." you cooed down at the girl who was lying down on the ground. in the middle of a mall, "mama and papa will buy that toy for you next time, i promise."

nanami was by your side, holding onto the baby stroller. his eyes were unreadable, you don't know what he had in mind, but the look he peered at your daughter was plainly and eerily terrifying.

yes, there are moments where he spoils hoshi with what she wants. toys, food, drinks, you name it. but there are times where he declines because he didn't want her to grow up too spoiled, "i wan' that toy, mama!"

you inhaled sharply, trying to slide your hand underneath her armpits to pick her up, but hoshi refused by kicking your hands away. her little kicks barely scratched you — but the people looking at your small family as they passed by definitely got a little kick to you.

"baby, people are looking at you . . ." you whispered.

"i don't care, shut up, mama!"

that was the last straw for nanami who had been silent. he grabbed your arm and tugged you up gently, nodding at you as if telling you to leave this one to him.

you backed away slightly, taking a hold of the stroller nanami had let go a few seconds prior as he squats down. forcefully but gently slipping his hands underneath hoshi's armpits, carrying her into his arms.

"mama said we will buy that toy for you next time, okay?" he sternly said, eyeing his little girl who was now silent as she gazed into his eyes, "and you never. never tell mama to shut up, do you understand?"

hoshi nods her head slowly, lips quivering at her father's sudden lecture, nanami's eyes visibly softened and he rocked her in his arms, "papa's not angry at you, hoshi. but papa wants you to know that telling mama to shut up is not polite, okay?"

again hoshi nods her head.

"go and say that you're sorry to mama," he pecked her chubby cheeks before letting her down onto the ground.

hoshi's little legs ran towards you, hugging your leg, "'m so sorry mama," she muffles into your leg, "i don't want the toy anymore, mama. 'm sorry for being a bad girl."

you squat down, nuzzling your nose to her, "you're not a bad girl, baby . . . mama and papa will buy you that next time, okay? we promise."

"okay, mama. i love you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[hairmetal666]

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

[alastorss]

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.

a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.

You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.

There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.

The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.

And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.

For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.

"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.

He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.

"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.

You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."

Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.

He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.

You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.

Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)

"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."

'Or something?' he wanted to ask.

He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)

It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.

Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.

The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.

He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.

He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.

"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.

"I've come to join you, actually."

Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.

"You have a nice laugh."

He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.

You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.

"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"

Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.

"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.

"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.

Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.

All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.

His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."

"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."

Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.

~

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[meliohy]

Almost had a heart attack when my colleague suggested displaying the dates for my theater play next to the coffee machine

I already regret mentioning it to them because they want to come watch it! I was just making small talk about one of my hobbies!! Leave it alone

[saeist]

“set me up with rin”

you slammed your hands against the hard wood table. scaring the shit out of shidou and aiku

“jesus fuck!” shidou puts a hand on his chest

“feisty. i like it!” aiku reacts, doing a little finger gun

“you didn’t say the magic word” sae murmurs, completely unbothered by your whole ruckus. you could say he’s used to it at this point

your eyes widened hearing sae’s response. did he finally agree to help you out?

“pretty please” you bat your eyelashes at your best friend, who wasn’t even looking at you by the way. he was currently reading something off what seems to be the latest edition of a sports magazine

sae silently flips the magazine onto the next page before looking at you dead in the eye. you watch his mouth open, ready to hear a certain sentence you’ve been wanting to hear for the past few weeks

“no.” he says flatly before turning his attention back to the magazine

both shidou and aiku break into boisterous laughter. only to be silenced by the librarian

“shh!” the librarian shushes. “one more ruckus from your table and i’m kicking the four of you out!” she whisper-yells, typing away on her computer

you dramatically slide into the seat next to sae, leaning on his shoulder as you reach over to tug his hand

“sae c’mon! you know i like him! so do me a favor as your favorite friend and set me up with your cute little brother” you cried out, tugging on his hand again and again

sae clicks his tongue in annoyance and snatches his hand back

“that’s exactly why i won’t set you up with him” sae grimaces

“and that is?!”

“that you like my little brother” sae says casually. closing the damned magazine and tossing it to shidou who was busy laughing at something on his phone with aiku

“that’s barely a reason” you point out, “would it kill you to help your friend that's desperate for a lover?" you add, dramatically falling limp onto his lap

sae pinches the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. he's heard of this dramatic monologue of yours for a hot minute. ever since he introduced you to his brother, you have not shut up about him since.

it was a mistake on sae's end. he shouldn't have brought you, along with shidou and aiku along for dinner back at his place but it was his mom who pestered him into bringing you guys over for dinner as his mother wanted to meet who sae's friends at college were

"i didn't know y/n-chan was into younger men" shidou quips, poking your nose as you glared daggers at his face

"rin is just like a year younger than sae, let alone me" you retort

"point still stands, y/n-chan" aiku chimes in a sing-song voice, "why do you like him anyway and not the hotter, better and wiser older brother here?" he continues

you dreamily sigh, still on sae's lap as you think about rin

"well first of all, he's a cutie. second, he gives me tsundere vibes but then again, his brother right here is the same kind so i'm pretty sure it runs in the family and... i guess that's about it" you list off the nice things you can say about rin from the top of your head, "no offense sae, i think you're hot and all but just not my type" you poke your tongue at your best friend who only flicks your forehead in retaliation

"that's it?" shidou asks, feeling a little anti climactic about the whole thing. to him it sounded like you had a good reasons on why you were crushing hard on the other itoshi

"oh! and the fact that he's 6'1" you clasp your hands together, "and also that he's trying so hard to be the star player at our local college team and i find it really cute" you gush

"he obviously doesn't have a choice but to try and beat his hotter and better older brother. right, rin?" sae nudges someone beside him.

wait a second, did he just call out to rin?

you quickly scramble off sae's lap, bumping your head against the table in the process

both aiku and shidou let out an "oof, that's gotta hurt" making you more embarrassed than you already are. you glared at them for a brief second before turning your head to the side to see rin looking all confused and to be honest, a little weirded out

"hey rin. what brings you here?" you sweetly wave at the younger itoshi in front of you.

from the corner of your eye, you can see sae rolling his eyes and mumbling "dumbass" under his breath. before you can smack sae, rin speaks up

"my brother" rin nods his head towards sae who only gives him a look of annoyance before motioning him to spit out whatever he came for

"coach says there's been a change of plans regarding the away games and wants to have a team meeting later at the field" rin reports all stoic

sae huffs, "you couldn't just texted me this information or?"

"you blocked my number, remember?" rin rolls his eyes, gripping on his sling bag.

you let out a little gasp and smacked sae on his shoulder upon hearing the news that your best friend has blocked his little brother's number.

"sae! why would you block your brother?!" you nag, wagging your finger in front of sae's face. sae swats your hand away before he attempts to grab rin for pushing him under the bus like that when you're around

"anyway, that's all. also, mom wants you home for dinner. bye guys, bye y/n" rin shyly waves at you before he trudges away out of the library, away from his brother's impending wrath

as rin disappears from sight, suddenly an idea pops into your mind. it's just a simple favor. the next time you see him, you'll ask rin for his help, and maybe, just maybe, it will lead to something more.

"that little runt.. he's gonna get it from me" sae hisses, pulling out his phone to probably unblock rin now that you know that he got his brother blocked. sae looks over at your face in case you were about to yell his ear off but instead he was greeted with a little smile on your face

oh no. he knows that devious smile of yours

"my dearest beloved sae.. put in a good word for me to rin, would ya?" you wink

[tsukiflwr]

❝ I MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO… ❞

𝓹airing ∿ hyung line! enha x f!reader ᰔ 𝓱eadcanons ; slightly suggestive, fluff?, humor? 𝔀: slightly suggestive, skinship, kissing 𐙚 𝔀c 1485 ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓻oro's note. this idea came to me out of know where ﹒ ꒰ 𝓵ibrary ꒱

𝓢. enhypen hyung line reacting to you singing along to ‘juno’

LEE HEESEUNG

“wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?” you quietly sang along to the song as you scrolled through your pinterest feed, saving all the cute pictures in the proper section. your feet kicked in the air, matching the tempo of the song. you were laying on your stomach in your boyfriend's bed while he was at his computer, his attention on the game he was playing – or at least you thought it was. you had stolen his attention from his game as soon as he heard you sing something about his dads genetics. 

he quietly slipped off his headphones – not like you could have heard it anyway if he didnt, you had your own headphones on – and he got up from his chair, a small smirk adoring his lips at how cute you looked in his shirt. you didn't flinch at the sudden touch of his hands on your ankles, softly pushing your elevated legs down on the bed so he could straddle your thighs. “seungie?” you hummed in confusion as you felt him press his chest against your back, taking your headphones off for you. 

heeseung chuckled and placed a few kisses on your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear as he whispered huskily “the answer is yes” you giggled at the feeling of his breath on your neck, and you felt chills go down your spine at your boyfriends tone. ”to what question?” you sassily asked as you turned your head to the side, your breath hitching from how close he was to you. he couldn't help but smirk at your reaction, his eyes dropped to your lips before slowly looking back into your eyes, his tone teasing “I'd loveee to try out your fuzzy pink handcuffs” 

PARK JAY 

jay knew what you were doing before you even played the song; you had been dropping subtle hints – if you could even call them that – for days. sending him cute videos of baby’s while he was off at work, he noticed quickly that the parents were all on the younger side. he had noticed the change in you, ever since your new neighbors moved in next door and your eyes fell on that adorable baby – you had been wanting one of your own. 

“one of me is cute, but two though?” you sang along to the song that was playing through the car speakers, the song of your choosing of course. you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as you tilted your head to look out the window, looking at all the buildings that lit up the dark sky. the corner of jay’s lip twitched up into a small smirk as he listened to you sing along. he quickly glanced at you before looking back at the road. he shook his head as he let out a small chuckle, his eyes on the road as he moved his right hand to rest it on your thigh, gripping the plush of your thigh as he said smoothly “you know all you had to do was ask” 

“hmm?” you hummed in confusion as you tilted your head to look at him, your breath hitching as you took in the sight. from his perfectly slicked back hair and that single strand of hair that was draped over his black framed glasses, to his perfect side profile and down to his adam's apple, and the top of his chest that was exposed from the first few buttons of his black button down being unbuttoned – something he did on purpose because he knew it would drive you crazy to look at from across the restaurant table. 

you bit your lip as he squeezed your thigh harder, his touch leaving a chill in his wake. you felt like you were in a daze as you watched him lick his lips quickly, before that mischievous smirk is adoring his face once again as he repeated his words “all you had to do was use your words and ask me to put a baby in you” your mouth drops in slight shock at how calm and smoothly he said that, he chuckles and slips his hand high up your thigh and under your dress “but you have to be a good girl and say please” 

SIM JAKE

jake bit his lip to hold in his groan as he quietly walked into the kitchen. he had just woken up from a nap when he heard you singing from the kitchen. his eyes immediately went to you and his jaw went slack as he took in the sight of you. there you stood at the counter whisking something in a bowl, clad in one of his shirts and from where he stood it looked like that was all you were wearing, his eyes lingering on your swaying hips to the beat of the song. you smiled and paused your whisking when you felt him hug you from behind. you opened your mouth to greet him, but you were cut off by the loud groan leaving his lips “you are driving me fucking crazy” 

“what did I do now?” you couldn't stop the giggle from leaving your lips at the slight hint of grumpiness in his tone. jake moved his hands that were holding your hips to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest, a small groan slipping past his lips at the feeling of you pressed against him. he pouted as he mumbled into your neck “you singing those lyrics, god i can't concentrate on anything” you smiled innocently and resumed mixing your cookie dough “oh…oops”

“Oh, that's all you got to say princess hmm?” jake teased with a playful huff, slipping one of his hands under your shirt to softly caress your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder. he eyes your pretty side profile before dropping down to watch as you start to put perfect sized circles of cookie dough on the cookie pan. there was something so domestic about seeing you wear his shirt, baking in your shared kitchen, singing lyrics about wanting a baby. god he wanted nothing more than to have a family with you. 

jake let out a loud groan as his imagination started to run wild, he moved his chin off your shoulder and gently dropped his forehead to rest on the middle of your back, his hold on your waist tightening. he closed his eyes as he whined out needily “fuckkk now all i can think about is putting a baby in you” you bit your lip to hold in your chuckle at how whiney your boyfriend sounded, you tilted your head to the side so he could hear you clearly as you tease “if you let me finish these maybe you can”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon watched you with a small smirk as he leaned against the doorway of your bathroom, watching as you leaned over the bathroom sink to look into the mirror as you did your eyeshadow. he pushed himself off the doorway and moved to stand behind you, finally alerting you of his presence as he rested his hands on your hips. he softly caressed your sides as he asked “who’s juno?” 

you pulled the eyeshadow brush away from your eyes as you pulled back from the mirror a little, gaping at your boyfriend through the mirror is disbelief “you're kidding – you've never seen juno?” you watched as he shrugged, shaking his head no with a cute smile. you roll your eyes playfully in false disappointment as you stand up straight, giving him a teasing smile “remind me why I'm dating you?” 

sunghoon chuckled and moved one of his arms up, flexing his muscles in the mirror. smirking at you as he answered in a flirty tone “oh my muscles definitely” you giggled as you turned around to face him leaning back against the counter as you looked up at him. your boyfriend caresses your side before resting his hands on the counter, trapping you in his arms; enjoying how you looked up at him with your pretty eyes. he leaned closer to you, whispering huskily with a smirk “so are we?” 

you rest one of your hands on his hip, fidgeting with his sweatpants before leaning forward to place a few soft kisses on his bare shoulder, smiling at the chills that spread across his skin. “hmm?” you raised your eyebrow as you let out a hum of confusion. sunghoon let out a groan at the feeling of your lips on his now warm skin and the feeling of your fingers teasingly slipping under the band of his sweatpants. he moved one of his hands from the counter to cup your jaw, making you look up at him as he whispered with an innocent smile; his dimples out “gonna try out some freaky positions?” 

𝓻oro's note. hi my lovely people !! I’m so sorry that it’s taken me forever to get another post out, I’ve been superrr busy. I hope you guys enjoyed this , pls let me know what members part you liked the most !! I will not be making a maknae line ver !! ꒰ 𝓷av ꒱

likes, reblogs, comments and feedback are heavily encouraged !

[love-takes-work]

When Steven Universe knows it is a cartoon (and what kind of cartoon it is)

They know what they did.

[Image Descriptions: GIFs from Steven Universe.]

[Image 1: Steven (from the short "Steven Reacts") leans into the camera and says in pink text: "I can't wait for the next episode! Whenever THAT is; am I right?"]

[Image 2: Spinel (from Steven Universe the Movie) winds up her arm like a spring with a huge punching glove on the end and yells in pink text: "You can't just make everything better by SINGING SOME STUPID SONG!"]

[Image 3: Amethyst (from the episode "Reformed") plops a sandwich on the counter and says in purple text: "Who wants to watch a cartoon about people crying?" Steven, eyes shining with tears, replies in pink text: "I do!"]

[Image 4: Amethyst (from the episode "Cry For Help") lies on a bed next to Steven who's sitting on the floor, and says in purple text: "It sure would be nice if things worked out the way they do in cartoons."]

[Image 5: Steven, falling down from the sky (from the episode "Steven Floats"), yells in pink text "My floating power's tied to my emotions!" He slaps his face and continues, "Aarrghh, just like all my stupid powers!"]

[Image 6: Pearl, standing unsmiling next to Amethyst as she leans on Steven's head and giggles (from the episode "Too Far"), listens to Peridot offscreen as she says in green text: "Though that doesn't explain the spontaneous singing . . . crying . . . singing while crying. . . . "]

[Image 7: Steven, in yellow pajamas (from the episode "Bismuth"), laughs and says in pink text, "Ya know, usually when I meet a new Gem, they try and kill me," and the screen switches to Bismuth, reacting as Steven continues: ". . . and it takes me forever to become friends with them."]

[Image 8: Peridot and Lapis Lazuli, fighting in the background (from the episode "The New Crystal Gems"), react to Connie in the foreground. Lapis, in blue text, says: "Steven would've had a much better speech." Peridot, in green text, replies: "I know! She didn't even cry."]

[Image 9: In a far shot including Sapphire, Ruby, Bismuth, Peridot, Lapis Lazuli, Spinel, and Steven (from Steven Universe the Movie), Bismuth says in gray text: "I thought you said she was just trying to kill you!" The scene switches to Bismuth, Lapis, and Peridot standing together. Lapis says, in blue text: "Wow, quick turnaround!" Peridot replies, in green text, "No kidding! It took me months to stop trying to kill Steven." Bismuth adds: "I'd say it took me a day, day and a half. . . . " Lapis replies: "I'm STILL on the fence!" They all laugh.]

[Image 10: Sardonyx (from the episode "Know Your Fusion"), says in orange text: "She's not actually in this episode. Do we still have to pay her? Yes? Fair enough."]

[nocturna-iv]

You're a loser, baby~

I love the level of detail in "Loser, baby" on a narrative level and how much it can tell us about HuskerDust. Husk didn't want to go after Angel; Charlie sent him. But at that moment, when the mask began to fracture, Husk extended his hand to the real Angel.

The smile? Husk has a plan. The kind of plan that involves pure nihilism and stopping self-judgment so Angel knows he's not alone. Husk doesn't need to do this, but he already knows the real Angel (when he's drunk) and likes him. So, Husk is offering the real Angel his company.

Angel is waiting for the typical “everything is going to be fine” talk. How many times has he heard it? Cuddles, hope, and light But Husk surprises him by treating him like an equal, someone who won't break. Obviously, it bothers Angel, and he gets defensive. Is this guy kidding?

The same guy who was annoyed by Angel's presence is now all over him, with the most pretentious smirk in the universe, calling him a LOSER (and baby). Angel is so confused by the turn of events.

So, obviously, Angel thinks Husk is playing with him. His face says it all! And Husk is still all over him, telling Angel the truth.

In this part, Husk shares his insecurities. Yes, there was a time, but the pain is still there. And from what he's gotten to know Angel, Husk feels like they could connect there. “You are not alone” goes both ways.

Husk manages to get Angel to open but does it with sarcasm. At this point, Angel doesn't think anyone is going to accept him as he is. So, he says something that many know: his contract with Valentino, who has a dangerous reputation. That's the opening Husk was looking for.

This part isn't Husk making light of Angel's situation. He's making it clear to Angel that he's not “unique”, that is, he's not alone. His suffering is not something that separates him from others. Husk is breaking into Angel's self-isolation due to his abusive relationship.

Obviously, Angel doesn't believe him. Years of abuse made it clear to him that no one is going to care for the real Angel. But he's indulgent with Husk, playing along, visibly skeptical, wanting to know where this is all going.

And Husk takes him by surprise again. He is gentle, guiding Angel, giving him space, always offering his hand. It's a fun dance for two. They are both losers. Husk isn't insulting him. He is telling him that it's okay to make mistakes. They both have done it.

So Angel decides to trust. Just a little. Because he knows how people react when they know who he is. Angel is barely singing, not fully entering the song.

And when Husk tells him that he's fine with Angel being like that, it's liberating. Angel sings, there is a crack in his voice, because he is having fun! He is not acting, he is being sporadic and exaggerated, almost a parody of his flirtatious mask.

Now it is Angel who seeks out Husk, recognizing him as the one who can understand him and is liberating! And Husk reaches him, reminding Angel that they're in all of this together. And Angel smiles. A big and real smile.

Husk shares his addictions to give Angel the opportunity to share his in a safe space. And now Angel sings with all his potential, being himself and having fun. And Husk reaffirms him. This is Angel, the real Angel that Husk met when Angel was drunk.

And that is the theme of the song. Embrace who you are and don't be ashamed. Take every self-destructive comment, dirty insult, and don't let them sink you. Say "So what?", it's you, you're fine, you're good.

Accept your mistakes, your failures, your flaws, and stop being your own enemy. It's hard to escape, but there is someone who understands you, and you aren't alone. Existence sucks; bite it with a smile!

And that's the point. Things aren't magically going to get better. The problems are not going to disappear. Life sucks, but you're not alone. The burden doesn't disappear, but it may be more bearable.

Angel is the one who comforts Husk, telling him that yes, existing is difficult, but he's not alone. He has him. And for Husk, that's something. The song is about them, after all.

And Husk tells him that maybe he and Angel can be losers and find happiness.

And now it's Angel who offers Husk his hand. Now it's Husk who puts his hand on Angel's. And Angel can't erase his surprise and smile.

Now Angel is the one accompanying Husk. Angel's voice becomes an instrument that follows Husk in harmony. The fun dance of two returns, but Angel includes his style. Husk no longer has to guide him.

They both reach for each other. Husk extends his hand almost at the same time as Angel, with his eyes closed, extends his.

And in the end? They both support each other, literally and symbolically. They are equals. Husk and Angel meeting in the middle. The real Angel being accepted by Husk.

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — lights will guide you home | carlos sainz and multi

Description: Trying to find love after your ex-fiancee told you that his mistress makes him happier. How hard could it be?

part two of it was all yellow

Pairing: actress!singer!reader/multi (undecided), actress!singer!reader/carlos sainz (past).

Trope: Secret Baby Trope

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

A/N: this part will mainly focus on the main character and her relationship with pablo, while setting things up with her future love interest + angst with carlos?🤔

carlossainz55: Everyday Magic! I love you baby.

liked by because.official and 712,923 others

>comments

ynnationlovebears: GIRL...

because.official: aww he looks so cute hubs 🥺 - carlossainz55: ❤️

iggyagaelabeef2: OH MY GOD SHE'S GOING TO KILL U

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The situation was awkward. Pablo was wise beyond his years, he understood the situation - but his difficulty understanding it was obvious. He wasn't comfortable around Carlos, who until yesterday didn't even exist in his little world.

"Give him time." you comforted the older man.

It felt strange, comforting a man who was the reason of your sorrow. He was the reason that you didn't feel confident in your own skin, in your own face, because he thought that someone was better.

You spent these past years trying to look for the faults that he found inside of you, because if he could cheat on you, the next one could.

"Until yesterday, he didn't even know that you existed." you scoffed, attempting to avoid his guilty stare. "I don't know what I'm looking for - or what he likes. Children are a tough crowd." he chuckled nervously, mentally cursing Kirkman for leaving the both of you.

There was a silence, only interrupted by the slight sound of rain on the background. It was obvious that you had nothing in common. You had no desire with being friends with him. "I posted him on instagram, is that fine?" he broke through the thick atmosphere.

You licked your chapped lips.

"Yeah."

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notdanielricciardopriv: this is so scary 😭

liked by 7 others

>comments

notmaxv33: Slendrina - notynln: a lotta nerve from someone singing gagadegadao with my son ??

landofanbasebutreallandonorris: IM SO SCARED RIGHT NOW PLEASE DON'T KIDNAP ME - notynln: 😭

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ynworldupdates: I literally don't understand why Carlos Sainz Jr. decided to cheat on the most beautiful woman in the whole universe 😭😭 like SHE LITERALLY PLAYS TARGARYENS FOR A LIVING MAN!!

liked by 829 others

>comments

birdsofafeather83: literally mother mary incarnate

holypoodlesticks: i want this woman to play a divine goddess

alex_lnc: that's why i love women, men will always CHEAT

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>comments

floppiana83: "that makes her a good friend" MAX YOU ARE NOT SLICK HAHAHAHAHAHA

arianabanana: And they get married and have kids

inchident01: go to 2:01 I'm sensing a crush

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"Charles told me that you were ignoring Carlos' messages." Daniel sits beside me, his face filled with concern.

"I didn't know how to react, okay." you groaned.

A few days ago Carlos posted a picture of Pablo. Your son's face was in full view, everyone began to critique his features - even the looksmaxxing community had a lot to say. It was a boy! A child!

"If you didn't want him posting P - then you should've told him in the first place." he responded, trying to play devil's advocate. It only added more to your fury. "The deed was done, someone probably already saved it - I couldn't just ask Carlos to delete the picture."

"- plus, you know how I get with confrontation." you breathed.

He was about to respond, but he sees your crestfallen face. The same curve of your lips that you miserably wore when you lost a game of UNO, or lost an acting role that you've been pining for.

"I hate him for what he did, but I miss him like a little kid. He makes me feel so stupid and useless."

" - when I'm around him, I can't help but think about my mistakes. I could've been better - maybe then, Pablo would have both of his parents." you sobbed, burying your face in his chest.

Daniel takes a deep breath.

"It shouldn't come from me ... but it's tough being a mother. Carlos can afford to make mistakes, no one will hate him for it - but it's unfair once you're the one who does." he comforted.

Between all your friends, Daniel was the only one who knew how to comfort another person. He was a blessing. A warm teddy bear.

"I-I just wanted to give Pablo the change of having privacy. His father and I never had that as kids. I know how tough it is being in the spotlight, I thought he'd understand." you sighed.

This was another lesson.

"I'll tell him next time." you nodded to yourself. A human being can make mistakes, but as a mother, it's best to not have any.

I've got to learn how to put my foot down.

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yn.ln: a lot of you don't know this but me and @maxverstappen go way back.. i've seen the interview, thank you for calling me a good friend 🤣💚 ps. we first met each other when we were 5 and i'm pretty sure he forgot about me until we met again at 17 🤣

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen and 83,293 others

>comments

helaenaslawyer: OH MY GOD ?? SHE LOOKED LIKE RHAENYRA WHEN SHE WAS A KID...THE HOTD CASTING DEPARTMENT NEVER MISSED

emmadarcy: OMG 🔥

maxieworldf1: never beating the sibling allegations

maxverstappen: Have you always been that short? - yn.ln: uhuh mr. tall king? lols

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Carlos was taking snaps of Pablo on his new Kodak camera. The little boy seemed to enjoy being the subject of his father's photos. Daniel nudges your elbows, encouraging you to speak up. "Carlos, will you be posting that on social media?" you inquired.

He looked up with a smile - the smile that used to have you weak on your knees, now instead leaving you with neutral feelings. "If it's okay with you?" his eyebrows merged into each other.

"Uh I actually would prefer it if Pablo stays off the media for a few years, just until he's old enough to make his own decisions." the words slipped out of your mouth like a dam.

His eyebrows raised upwards, surprised.

"Oh I'm sorry that makes sense." his voice sounded defeated, but he quickly returns to playing with his son. You lean back on the sun-bed, flashing Daniel a winning smile. "That was surprisingly easy." you leaned back, watching as he takes a sip of his piña colada.

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yn.ln: this is so 2014 core 🕷 📸 shot by p

liked by maxverstappen and 821,239 others

>comments

helaenaworld: this awakened something within me

holdmybeer: pedro alonso, stephanie beatriz, cm punk, carlos sainz I GET YOU...

bandanaqueef: O M G O M G O M G

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formulaonewagsupdate: because and y/n l/n in one boat?

liked by 82,239 others

>comments

becausefanbase: i get it why carlos cheated HAHAHA

hotpotcentauri: Why does Y/N always look so awk? - ynlncloset: y/n l/n does not belong to you because, mainstream media and parties do... - callmeadefender: She's literally the most charming of all of the ladies in that boat 💀

babyohh: to be a fly on the wall during that yacht ride.

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next part>>

thanks for the support guys. pt. 3 will focus on the yacht ride.

IDEAS FOR THE FUTURE ENDGAME ARE STILL OPEN, JUST BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER IS MAX AND DAN CENTRIC DOESN'T 100% MEAN THAT THOSE DRIVERS ARE ENDGAME.

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[idkyetxoxo]

Gwayne Hightower - Beneath the Mockery

Summary - A perfect day takes a turn when an encounter with the infuriating Gwayne results in an unexpected tumble into the mud. This mishap transforms their antagonistic relationship into a profound and passionate connection, uncovering unexpected depths in both characters.

Pairing - Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2375

Masterlist for Gwayne • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

The day was idyllic, the air warm, birds singing their sweet melodies, and the sky a brilliant blue. It seemed perfect until the sound of an aggravating voice cut through the tranquillity.

"Princess," the voice called, a mocking tone underscoring his words. "Fairest princess, do not ignore us lowborn." I clenched my jaw, pausing as my handmaidens did the same around me.

"Ser Gwayne, what a... welcoming sight," I said, a tight-lipped smile on my face.

Gwayne was relentless in his efforts to irritate me, always materializing at the most inopportune moments. He thought himself clever and took immense pleasure in provoking me, his highborn quarry.

As he approached, his smug grin only fueled my annoyance. His presence was a thorn in my side, and he knew it all too well.

"What important task would compel you to leave the safety of the keep?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. His smirk betrayed the taunting nature of his question.

"I fail to see how my whereabouts are any of your concern," I replied.

"Oh, I worry for your safety, of course," he said, tilting his head to the side, his eyes gleaming with amusement. His mockery was evident in every word, and it took all my restraint not to lash out.

I took a deep breath, my fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. "Your concern is touching," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm "But as you can see, I am well-protected."

He laughed, the sound grating. "Of course, Princess. I wouldn't dream of questioning the prowess of your loyal entourage."

"Perhaps you should find a more productive way to spend your time, Ser Gwayne," I suggested, my tone icy. "Surely, there are more pressing matters that require your attention."

He stepped closer, his smirk widening. "Oh, but what could be more pressing than ensuring our beloved princess is safe and sound?"

As I turned to leave, Gwayne stepped slightly to the side, his movement subtle but enough to force me to adjust my path. In my haste to distance myself from him, I didn't notice the uneven ground beneath my feet. 

Before I could react, my foot slipped on a hidden patch of wet grass, and I stumbled forward, unable to regain my balance. 

Time seemed to slow as I careened towards the ground, my heart lurching in my chest. I landed with a resounding splash into a pool of mud, the thick, sticky substance immediately coating my white dress. 

I gasped in shock and indignation, the cool mud seeping through the fabric and clinging to my skin. The pristine gown I had so carefully chosen for the day was now a sodden, filthy mess. 

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of my ragged breaths and the distant chirping of birds. Then, Gwayne's laughter erupted, loud and unrestrained. 

I briefly considered dragging him down with me, but begrudgingly decided against acting on those impulses.

I pushed myself up slightly, the mud clinging to my hands and arms, and turned to glare at him. His amusement was evident, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he took in my dishevelled appearance.

"Ah, it seems you've found a new way to enjoy the day," he said, struggling to catch his breath between bouts of laughter.

My cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. "You... did this deliberately," I accused, my voice trembling with a blend of anger and frustration.

He raised his hands in mock innocence. "Me? How could I have possibly orchestrated such a thing? It appears the ground itself conspired against you."

Before I could respond, a steady hand gripped my arm, lifting me to my feet. I looked up to find Ser Criston, my sister's sworn protector, his face a mask of concern with a trace of barely concealed anger directed at Gwayne. 

His strong grip and calm demeanour provided a contrast to Gwayne's mocking laughter. 

 "Are you alright, Princess?" Criston asked, his voice steady and reassuring. He carefully wiped some of the mud from my sleeve, his touch respectful and comforting. 

 "Thank you, Ser Criston," I said, my voice softening slightly. "I seem to have found myself in quite the predicament." 

 As Criston helped me up, his hands steadying me, I noticed Gwayne watching us, his amusement fading into something darker. His eyes narrowed, and a flicker of jealousy crossed his face. 

 It was a small victory, seeing his smugness replaced by envy. 

 "You're too kind, Ser Criston," Gwayne sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "Always ready to rescue a lady in distress." 

Criston ignored him, his focus solely on me. "We should get you cleaned up," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "This way."

Before Criston could move, Gwayne stepped forward, his demeanour shifting. "On second thought, it was partly my fault you fell. Allow me to help you back to your chambers, Princess. It is the least I can do."

I looked between the two men, feeling the tension mounting. "Fine," I said with a sigh, eager to be rid of the mud clinging to me. "Let's just get this over with."

Gwayne stepped in closer, offering his arm in a gesture that felt both chivalrous and intrusive. Reluctantly, I took it, and we began the trek back to my chambers.

As we reached the entrance to my chambers, I turned to Gwayne, intending to dismiss him. "Thank you for your assistance, but I can manage from here."

To my surprise, he followed me inside, his presence a bold encroachment. I spun around, my patience frayed. "What are you doing? Do you intend to watch me get dressed?"

Gwayne had the audacity to look slightly taken aback, though the smirk never left his face. "I merely wanted to ensure you were well settled. It would be remiss of me to leave you in such a state without proper assistance."

I clenched my jaw, struggling to keep my composure. "Your concern is noted, but unnecessary. I have my handmaidens to help me if needed. You can go now."

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Surely, Princess, you don't think so poorly of me that you'd send me away without a word of thanks?"

My heart started racing as he closed the distance between us. 

For the first time, I realized just how handsome he was. His chiselled features and piercing eyes were impossible to ignore up close. The realization sent a confusing rush of emotions through me challenging my composure.

"What thanks do you expect?" I asked, my mind racing with every possibility.

"Whatever you think worthy," he whispered, his voice silky as he wiped a smidge of mud off my cheek with a surprisingly gentle touch.

The intimate gesture and the intensity of his gaze made my pulse quicken. For a moment, I stood there, caught between indignation and an unexpected attraction. 

My thoughts whirled as I considered the implications of what I was about to do. Then, before I could second-guess myself, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

His skin was warm against my lips, and the action left both of us momentarily stunned. As I pulled back, I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly masked by his usual confident demeanour.

"There," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "A kiss on the cheek. Consider it my thanks."

Gwayne's smirk reappeared but with a newfound intensity in his gaze. "Well, Princess, I must admit that was worth every bit of mud and mockery."

I turned to leave, but his hand caught mine, stopping me in my tracks. I glanced back at him, my heart racing even faster. His expression had shifted from smugness to something deeper, more serious.

"Is that truly all you have to offer?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room seemed to shrink around us, the air thick with unspoken tension. I should have been outraged, should have sent him away with a sharp rebuke but instead, I found myself stepping closer, drawn in by the magnetic pull between us.

His hand moved to my waist, pulling me against him. My breath hitched as our bodies pressed together, the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of our clothes. I met his gaze, the intensity of his eyes igniting a fire within me.

"This is madness," I whispered, more to myself than to him.

"Perhaps," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. "But it's a madness we both feel."

In that moment, all thoughts of propriety and decorum vanished. I closed the distance between us, my lips seeking his with a desperate urgency. The kiss was electric, igniting a spark that quickly blazed into an uncontrollable fire. His hands roamed my body, tracing the contours with a reverence that belied the raw hunger in his touch.

We stumbled backwards, our movements frenzied and uncoordinated. My back hit the wall, and Gwayne's body pressed against mine, his kisses growing more fervent. I moaned softly, the sound muffled against his mouth.

His hands moved to my dress, and I felt a momentary pang of hesitation but the heat between us was too intense, the need too overwhelming. I helped him, our fingers tangling as we worked to shed the layers of clothing that separated us.

When we finally stood bare before each other, there was no turning back. 

He lifted me, his strength evident as he carried me to the bed. We fell onto the soft surface, our bodies entwined with a primal need.

"So all the teasing, the provoking, was simply to bed me?" I asked, my voice breathless as I looked up at him. 

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent a thrill through me. Holding himself up by his hands on either side of my head, he gazed down at me with amusement.

"If that is what you would like to believe," he said, his lips beginning to travel down my body, leaving a path of scorching kisses.

I placed my hand on his chest, stopping him. His lips hovered just above my skin, and he looked at me with a question in his eyes. 

"No," I said firmly, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. "You do not get to touch me until you tell me the truth."

His eyes darkened with desire, but he stopped, looking at me with a newfound seriousness. 

"It was never just about bedding you," he confessed. "The teasing, the provoking... it was my way of breaking through that icy facade you put up. I wanted to see the real you, the passionate, fiery lady beneath the surface."

His words struck a chord within me, and I felt a rush of emotions, anger, confusion, and a deep, unsettling desire. 

"You have a strange way of showing your interest," I said, my voice softer now.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. "I wanted you to see me, to feel something for me, even if it was anger. Anything but indifference."

I shivered at the closeness, his breath warm against my skin. "Well, you've certainly succeeded," I whispered, my resolve weakening.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is this what you want, Princess?" he asked, his voice gentle yet insistent. "Do you want me?"

The vulnerability in his question caught me off guard. This was not the arrogant, teasing Gwayne I was used to, this was a man baring his soul, asking for my acceptance. My heart ached with the weight of the decision, but in that moment, I knew what I wanted.

"Yes," I breathed, barely more than a whisper. "I want you."

A soft smile touched his lips, a look of both relief and tenderness reflecting in his eyes. "Say no more," he murmured, and with that, he closed the distance between us once more.

He positioned himself at my entrance, entering me slowly, allowing me to feel everything, every drag of his cock along my walls. The sensation drew illicit moans from my lips, sounds that seemed to please him immensely.

"Does it feel good, Princess?" he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I gasped, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure. "So good."

The only thing I could focus on was the way his length was hitting spots inside me that I didn't even know existed. Gwayne seemed equally overwhelmed by how something so wrong could feel so right like I was made for him, destined to take his cock for all eternity.

The thought seemed to ignite something in him, and he snapped his hips more violently, his pace quickening. Soon, he was driving in and out with lewd sounds filling the room. The wetness coating his cock was all he could focus on, his own moans echoing as he chased his peak.

I was mewling beneath him, eyes closed in bliss. The feeling of him inside me caused a pressure to build in my stomach, intensifying when he reached down to play with my clit.

Gasping, my eyes shot open. "Gwayne," I moaned, holding his gaze. He moved his fingers confidently, clearly well-versed in this.

"Let go for me," he urged, his voice low and rough.

I began to writhe underneath him, my eyes rolling back as he expertly toyed with all the spots that made me feel good. He kept his pace steady, rocking in and out of me.

It felt so good I could hardly breathe, let alone think straight. "Gwayne, I'm—" I shouted, my climax crashing over me without warning.

My legs locked up, my cunt clenching down on him, and I held onto his body for dear life, moaning and writhing beneath him. My eyes rolled back, and sure enough, not even a second later, he joined me in his own peak.

He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he intertwined our hands before letting his seed spill onto my legs. Slowly, his breathing began to steady, and he opened his eyes to look at me, a tender smile playing on his lips.

"You surprise me, Princess," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with an unspoken question.

"And you frustrate me to no end, Ser Gwayne," I replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

He chuckled, the sound low and intimate. "I think we frustrate each other, but perhaps that's what makes this... interesting."

I sighed, resting my head against his chest. "Interesting is one way to describe it."

A/n - Yes after watching Tyland wrestle in the mud this idea came to my mind xx

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Multi-talented Queen"

How I imagine the lads men react to hearing you sing for the first time.

Zayne

MC: Why are you staring at me?

Zayne: Just trying to figure out when you were going to tell me you could sing

MC: Okay prophet did you figure it out yet?

Zayne: Yes I have

MC: and what's the answer?

Zayne: You never were this is the only point in time when I was going to find out

MC: Im shy about my singing voice why are you mad?

Zayne: Im not upset ... I would just like to hear it more often

MC: Alright I'll sing you to sleep or something

Zayne: I accept your terms

MC: I was kidding hold on

Zayne: Too late I've already agreed to the terms and conditions

MC: What were the terms and conditions?!?!

Rafayel

MC: *Singing as she steps out of the shower*

Rafayel: *Busts open the bathroom door*

MC: WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?

Rafayel: Why'd you stop singing?

MC: Because you busted in here like a fed and im butterball naked

Rafayel: Yea ..... nice ... very nice

MC: Focus fishie

Rafayel: Why didn't you tell me you could sing?

MC: you never asked

Rafayel: Do it again

MC: Do I bust in on you while you're naked and demand for you to sing?

Rafayel: I mean id be fine with that

MC: Get out

Rafayel: Sing first

MC: No

Rafayel: Come on please?

MC: You sing

Rafayel: I can't

MC: is your voice that bad?

Rafayel: No I have the vocals of a siren it will kill you

MC: *laughs*

Rafayel: ...

MC: ...

MC: Wait you're serious?

Xavier

Xavier: Are there any other secrets you're hiding?

MC: Are you still on this?

Xavier: You hid it from me

MC: I didn't hide anything I just didn't sing around you

Xavier: You hid it

MC: I get nervous singing in front of people and you still give me butterflies by just looking at me

Xavier: If I close my eyes will that help?

MC: That's not how it works Xavier

Xavier: What if I stand on the balcony with my back to you?

MC: Why do you want me to sing so bad?

Xavier: ....It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard

MC: S-STOP !

Sylus

Sylus: *Holds up his phone and plays a recording* You'd give Princess Fiona a run for her money

MC: MEPHISTO CAN RECORD???

Sylus: How many times do I have to remind you that he is a mechanical crow?

MC: He's a little shit that's what he is....

Sylus: What exactly was your plan?

MC: I was trying to make him explode the same way Fiona did

Sylus: and what came of that?

MC: Leave me alone Sylus

Sylus: How do you have so much animosity towards a crow?

MC: Why does your crow have so much static with me?

Sylus: You should sing more often

MC: No

Sylus: What if I say please?

MC: Still no

Sylus: Shall I beg?

MC: Still no ... well actually ... wait n-no ... I get nervous there's nothing you can say that will change my mind

Sylus: I'll move Mephisto into one of the twins rooms

MC: Send me a list of songs you wanna hear

[iwanthermidnightz]

When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.

I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.

In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.

In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.

I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.

I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.

I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.

I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.

Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.

I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.

These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.

I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.

I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.

Yours,

Taylor