#but. well. wilbur admitted to it now

[codgod]

i’m sure youse already know this, but nobody should feel bad for having been a fan of wilbur’s in the light of what’s happened

yeah, with hindsight it’s easy to pick apart his actions, and stories his friends have told, to look for signs that he was hurting people. plenty of people are gonna think they should’ve known sooner, and others are gonna claim they knew all along that he sucked, but in reality there is no way anyone could’ve known until shelby came out about the abuse she faced. he’s someone many people, including myself, looked up to on some level and you’re always gonna wanna see the best in people you look up to, and that’s okay. you don’t have to feel guilty for that

the thing to do now is to give yourself the time and space you need to move forward from here, and give what support you can to the people that were harmed by him

[arson-09]

not all male mcyts but somehow always a male mcyt

[eternal-moss]

Christ, the whole Wilbur situation is so fucked. Already the things that are coming out of the woodworks so quickly are so sad.

tw for abuse and misogyny. If you aren’t aware of this yet, Wilbur Soot has been revealed as a prolific abuser

My heart breaks for all the people he’s harmed. I think Shelby was really intelligent in the way that she’s brought this to attention, without naming him. This meant that even though some people denied it or lashed back at her, the repercussions were minimised.

Wilbur responding proved it was him she was talking about, although the details she provided made it so patently clear it was him from the start, it made it so that he had to admit he was the one who had been committing essentially serial abuse on young women by the nature of him responding to the description of the unnamed abuser, although he didn’t mention that it was *multiple women* in his absolutely pathetic excuse of an ‘apology’.

I’ve been thinking about this deeply from pretty much directly the moment after Shubble revealed it really. I’m not going to pretend that I’ve ever watched any of Shubble’s stuff, and I’ve not watched streamers for a couple of years now, but the courage she had to do this is fucking immense. Wilbur is very well off financially with a massive and loyal fanbase, the influence he has is very large and not to be underestimated. His ‘apology’ reeks of PR pressure, although it fails to meet the mark on all levels of even a basic apology (which is not even the bare minimum in this situation) and omits some very important details.

It’s so sad that abuse and grooming is so common amongst streamers/YouTubers, but the response to this time (from the community) being genuine support instead of victim blaming does make me feel hopeful. Wilbur’s condescension of women and younger ccs is absolutely disgusting. This recontextualises so many moments when he’s been dismissive of and made jokes at women’s expense. What he’s done is abuse and it’s misogyny. He’s picked on people he knows are less able to fight back from all parameters. Misogyny is massive in the gaming scene, and he’s relied on all these women (it really is a lot at this rate, even an ex-trumpeter from Lovejoy) staying silent out of fear.

Shubble saying keeping their silence protected him more than it protected her is very true, and this will absolutely wreck his reputation. Rather, he’s fucked it up himself, and there really is no one else to blame in this situation. The people who knew about it and were subject to this were typically smaller, younger or female streamers. It’s disgusting that he had relied on their silence for so long.

This is a bit of a mess, but ngl so am I. It’s been eating at me for as long as it’s been going on, I found out almost immediately. I was quite a big Wilbur fan for a damn long time, since his early days of streaming (when skyblock randomiser was made etc). I was emotionally invested in his original music and looked up to him a lot.

The worst thing I think is that I resonated with his online interactions with Tommy (which makes me feel vile), and his adoration of Wilbur, always calling him ‘like a big brother’, and it fondly reminded me of me and my younger sibling. Except Wilbur would sometimes do some unexpectedly cruel things. Like stomping on Tommy’s hand and causing it to bleed. That alarmed me at the time, also when he revealed that he was relying on Tommy to talk him out of suicide, which really made me concerned about how healthy their relationship was. The worst thing is, this didn’t surprise me that much at all when it was revealed. Shelby’s descriptions could fit no other person, and it made sense and lined up with his past behaviour, but that doesn’t make it any less wholly awful and horrific.

I wasn’t going to talk about it on this blog, but I just feel angry. Angry for all these people he’s hurt. Angry that he’ll still be living comfortably off of his fanbase for years to come, young people who trusted and idolised him, the vast majority young girls themselves. Angry for Shubble, angry for Niki, angry for the women’s names we don’t know yet, angry for those who had been intimidated into silence. Angry for those who had been abused and brutalised by him. The main thing that’s coming up again and again is the biting, the bruising, the physical abuse, the way they were scared into saying anything, left traumatised by the way they’d been treated. As if that could be brushed off in any way by some disgustingly shallow and self-centred attempt at self preservation of his reputation. Fuck off.

Like Aimsey said, this isn’t some light cancellation from Twitter, these are reprehensible serial misogynistic crimes, and it’s only been days since the initial reveal and hours since his response and the influx of victims speaking up. My heart breaks to know how much more is going to be unearthed.

So yeah this is basically it, I treat this blog mainly as an archive for fan creations of things I like, but also as a collection of my thoughts. I have been unable to stop thinking about this, and I know that I’ve barely talked about mcyt on here, but I was heavily into dsmp and streamers for a long time. Shubble is insanely bloody brave for doing this, I wish them all the best (and the other victims) in recovering from his behaviour, as well as applauding her for the sheer fucking bravery to make the decision to speak up.

***I’ve seen some people saying Shubble uses they/them pronouns, but most people I’ve seen refer to her with she/her. If I find out she doesn’t use she/her I’ll change this post < Shelby uses she/they

[renranram]

Is there any chance you could make a jschlatt x streamer reader 1shot where she admits she has a small thing for jschlatt on her stream because her viewers asked if she had a crush on any streamers she watches and jschlatt happens to be watching her stream because hes a fan of her🤭 i think its such a nice fic concept :))

Crush

sfw

fem!reader x schlatt

basically the submission hehe

" chat, i am not smashing tommyinit, he's a child! " you roll your eyes as drag the photo of tommy at the 'pass' side

you've been playing smash or pass with your twitch chat for a few minutes now, ' but he's 20 now ' ' he's a grown man ' ' he's a grown man with a husband and a girlfriend ' your chat spams

" well... during my time, he was a child, " you reply, dramatically rolling your eyes as you lean back your seat, talking about your dsmp phase

" but in all seriousness, id still pass him, he's literally like my little brother chat, dont be weird " you chuckle as you scroll to the next option, wilbur fucking soot, you pause, staring dead into the camera

before dragging the thing's photo out of the frame, you let the silence sink in as you glance at your twitch chat

poggerina; o7

y/n4lyfersmwa; mb guys he got out of his leash

bhielatkiffy; WHY IS THE BRIGHTON BITER THERE 😦😦😦😦

you read as you chuckle, " ... anyways.. " you added, scrolling down as a tts donation caught your attention,

y/nsfavkitten donated $15, ' hello y/nn, just wondering if you had any small crush on an old dsmp member? ' the tts reads out

as you shift on your seat, " a small crush? " you repeat, before chuckling, " well.. if you donate another 100 ill tell you " you play it off as a joke

and continue on with the game, you put charlie in smash, ted in smash, jack in pass ( banter ), niki in smash, until the donator actually donated a $100, taking you in surprise

" oh my fucking god, y/nsfavkitten, i was just joking " you chuckle, " should i give you a refund? " you offer, not thinking it'd be serious

y/nsfavkitten: nononono but can you answer my last question? :3

you pause sighing out, before nodding, " for you y/nsfavkitten, fine, i did have a small crush, like a veryyy small crush on someone there " you confess as you can see your chat speeds up

akh1rah_1r: WHO

y/nluvsme: WHO???

jojosiwayouscareme: HELP WHO??

numberoneschlaggot: no way dont tell me you liked dream

" ewww " you squirm, chuckling as you shake your head, " ... i used to have a thing for schlatt " you confess

mitskimybeloved: AHH I CALLED IT

immacomebacklikeaboomerang: ship

renranram : Y/N X SCHLATT CANON FR

you groan out, as you chuckle, " guys dont make it weird " you mumble, a faint blush on your cheek as you shifted on your seat

meanwhile schlatt on the other hand wanted to do backflips, like genuinely, he was like a monkey getting excited over a piece banana

and he thought, why not shoot his shot,

@.jschlatt • 1 minute

same i ship it too, @.y/n'swebbie

↳ 11 ⇆ 9 ♡ 201

as you saw the tweet, your face turned redder like a tomato, chuckling like a teenage girl seeing abs for the first time

" chat, this is all your fault "

[wilbursprincess]

Arranged Marriage With Princebur

Princebur x Reader

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D

Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.

Fic below cut!

When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.

The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?

“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”

My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”

“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”

Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.

“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”

~

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”

Lovely?

The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.

The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”

I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.

I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?

“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”

I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.

Maybe this won’t be too bad.

“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.

Nevermind.

“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.

The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”

~

I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.

‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’

‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’

‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’

I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.

My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.

“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”

“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”

In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.

My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.

“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”

My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.

“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”

“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’

Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.

~

“You may now kiss the bride!”

I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.

Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.

He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.

“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.

I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”

“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”

He’s sorry?

“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.

Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”

The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.

“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.

Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.

“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.

Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.

~

“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”

I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.

Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.

The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.

“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”

Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.

“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”

I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”

He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”

“Baby shoes and socks.”

“An evening gown.”

“A baby blanket.”

“Some cufflinks.”

“Baby clothes.”

Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”

“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”

His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”

“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”

Another awkward silence.

“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”

Something to d- oh. That.

I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.

~

The nightgown is certainly… something.

It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.

The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.

Now I see what she meant.

There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”

“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”

A solid 5 seconds of silence.

“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”

When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”

My face burns. “It is.”

“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.

The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.

I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”

~

Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.

I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.

Oh God, was I wrong.

There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.

I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.

The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.

I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.

“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”

~

I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.

“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”

The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”

Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.

He’s on my side.

“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.

The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”

“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”

She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”

The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”

I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”

Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”

Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”

I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.

“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”

He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”

Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”

“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”

Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”

~

“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”

He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”

“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.

“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”

I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”

Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”

“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”

He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”

Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”

“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”

We’re both silent for a few moments.

“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”

I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.

His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.

“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.

“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“

Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.

When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.

“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.

“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.

My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…

…And it snaps.

I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.

“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”

While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.

“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.

“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.

Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.

“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”

I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.

The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.

“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”

“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.

Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.

“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.

He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.

~

Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.

One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.

“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”

I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.

“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”

While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”

He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”

I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”

I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.

There’s no going back now.

~

We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.

His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”

All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.

The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.

Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.

I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”

“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”

He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.

The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.

My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.

~

“Wait!”

I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.

“Please, wait!”

It was Wilbur’s voice.

Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.

“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”

The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.

~

Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.

Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.

I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.

“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”

The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.

I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…

…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.

“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”

Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.

“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

[blissfali]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Lexi’s stream from yesterday and I just wanted to share my thoughts:

Hearing all the lies Wilbur has told has really like. Well I knew it was bad obviously I knew he was a BAD guy, but hearing the like. Genuine “Women aren’t funny”, just really got me thinking about how much of the platform he built was a lie.

It really hurts because you think of all his songs about all these things that connected with a lot of people, but if he can put on this role of. Actually caring about women’s issues. And it all have been a complete lie, what else has he straight up put on a facade about?

I understand that there is a difference between people and internet personas, but you have to admit that the lengths he went to are beyond normal. An internet persona is usually just more put together, more energetic, etc. It’s not straight up lying about your opinions in order to please your audience. Like that’s insanely shitty and weird.

Call me parasocial for this but it genuinely makes you wonder how far he went. All of it. I don’t know how to articulate this I might be being too vague. It just makes me think if he was willing to foster this community on safety that he didn’t believe in like… why? For the fame and money? Like is it not just easier to believe those opinions instead of just PRETENDING? How do you go so far lying on being on someone’s side just to say it’s all fake 😭Like at what point is it necessary to truly convince yourself of those things.

And again I understand it’s very easy to lie on the internet about you are. I know that. But just like… the sheer SCALE of it.

He’s always came across as pretty humble on and off of stream, so to hear that he was basically doing it all for the sake of getting money and fame and not a genuine care for creation it just. That fucks you up. I haven’t put as much money into him as other people have and I’m grateful but also. I know if I had had the means to that I would’ve. Why would you manipulate people like that, y’know? It’s just. insane to me.

You play this character on an SMP about someone whose struggling with mental health and suicide, and you turn around and abuse your partner, and you lie to your entire audience, and you hurt others in your life. At what point does it just become too much effort to lie to people like that? Why put up this elaborate facade?

I think I’m going in circles now 😭I just want to know if anyone else feels like this.

[ivys-garden]

I, like many of yall, have noticed a vocal minority of people showing there support for Wilbursoot, going as far as to attack shubble and her supporters. In this post I'll go through the main points I've seen them argue with and explain why I believe that they are all wrong.

“Shubble was the real abuser” - No. If she was, William would have spoken up. There is no evidence for this, well, that isn't faked or saying one thing is another (like the guy saying a pic of will crying was because of shubble or the guy trying to pass a stream of a completely different girl of as shubble abusing will… live. On stream. Yah, think we would have heard of that before now.)

“She has no proof” - genuinely fuck of. In domestic abuse cases there won't always be hard proof, that's one of the reasons the police struggle to do anything about it. If a wife is struck by a husband and it leaves no mark that doesn't mean it didn't happen “why didn't she show the bruises” have you guys ever been bruised? Bruises heal quickly, and she doesn't have any to show since the allegations came out after their break up, all the bruises would have healed. “Why didn't she take photos at the time?” Look at it this way, if I punch you across the face you will have a lot of thoughts, none of them will be “I should take a photo of this so people belive me what I say it happened”

(Also don't pretend that people wouldn't just say the evidence was fake if she did have pictures)

Oh and she does have evidence, the fact William admitted to it.

“She just did it for attention” - bitch, shubble doesn't need attention she was doing great. Just because you never heard of her didn't mean she was some underground indie youtuber, she didn't need to lie to get attention. Also lying about domestic abuse is not a good way to do this since it's really easy to disprove. The other party would come out instantly to tell everyone the truth. William didn't do that because shubble WAS telling the truth.

“Her story changed” - no. It didn't. Even the idea that she changed whether or not wilbur bruised with the bites or made her bled (both of which are still bad, btw) is made up, she never said that, as was clarified by shubble herself

“She encouraged death threats” - She openly decouraged death threats. Saying she was like: “everyone go and tell people to kill themselves” is literally putting words in her mouth

Also, this by no means goes for everyone, but arguing about death threats while, wilbur hasn't told his supports not to send death threats and that wilburs supporters have been saiding threats to shubble and her fans while condemning the few shubble fans who sent death threats, is kinda stupid

(Also this is by no means the main point but I have seen people who support wilbur literally begging for death threats, soooooooo)

(Oh aslo I was mistaken in the early version where I said shubble had implied that she didn't belive wilbur could change, that was another misconception and I'm sorry for spreading it. Shubble does belive that people can change IF they put in the work to do so)

Also remember, William has not been shown to actually change yet. He still hasn't even given shubble an apology that takes proper accountability, when he does that, apologies to everyone else he's wronged, and puts in the effort to actually be better moving forward, then we can forgive him. But at the moment he has not shown that.

So until then: support shubble. Belive victims. Raise awareness for these issues in the gaming space (this has been going on for a long time). And don't engage with people who make up evidence to support there parasocial relationships, don't send death threats (obviously, because that's wrong) but also don't engage in any other way. This will be my last post on this subject. Move on from William and the support for him will die down when they realise there's no one to disagree with, and then William, Shubble and all of us can move past this and into the future as a (hopefully) better space

[tobi-smp]

[looks left, looks right]

I've been holding this one back until people got cool with a lot of things very quickly but I think nows the time

lets have a quick examination of c!allium off the top of my head

1: ranboo joins the server and is immediately heckled by dream

2: that same day he meets tommy and they have the famous exchange where tommy asks ranboo if he likes flowers (to rib him) and ranboo accidentally punches him trying to give it to him. this is cute on its own, but of course we Know that tommy loves flowers, that he covered his house in them, that he sung to the plants in l'manberg

3: and importantly, that he took the flower

4: tommy immediately taking ranboo under his wing and running off to Do A Prank with him. this is really important because this is tommy trying to go back to the way that things were Before. the way that he'd had fun with his family and what he did when he felt safe and secure. this is tommy being silly with a new person he might consider a friend, but it's Also him trying to reconnect with that happy Free feeling he'd had before

5: they'd made a bunker specifically to plan out their prank, and he'd put the allium that ranboo gave him into a chest hidden for safe keeping. And That Allium Survived. he kept it and it survived

6: when they're caught not because what they did was Actually out of line (griefing was an every day occurrence, even and Especially between l'manberg and dream's territory), tommy Deliberately Did Not Throw Ranboo Under The Bus.

he didn't take it seriously, he made fun of everyone because the situation was ridiculous, but he Never implicated ranboo. and in fact, he only started Admitting to the crime When Ranboo Was Being Implicated. he Deliberately Took The Fall For Him.

(and it's worth noting that the evidence that was used to tie to tommy to the crime in the first place were signs that Ranboo wrote).

7: and in return Ranboo Stood Up For Tommy. ranboo is a character defined by his conflict avoidance and lack of spine, But He Stood Up For Him. he admitted to being a part of it, and he pointed Out that tommy was taking the fall to try to protect him, and he did so Specifically to counter tommy being called selfish.

8: then in between the trial and exile day tommy opened up to ranboo, both about being afraid of his relationship with tubbo falling apart AND with his relationship with wilbur. admitting to having nightmares and admitting that this fear of losing tubbo is tied to having lost wilbur. this is something he'd never said out loud to anybody at this point, and it'd be Many Many more months until he'd open up about it to anybody else.

9: while there Were people who visited tommy in exile multiple times, ranboo was undeniably the most consistent (outside of ghostbur, until well. dream tried to kill him)

he visited him in person And he wrote to him regularly. dream saw this as a threat so explicitly that he tried to sabotage their writing, to which ranboo circumvented it.

he'd regularly talk to tommy and try to help him while he was breaking down. he's one of the only people on the entire server to have a full picture of what happened and it ate at him.

10: he was Also the first person after techno to find out that tommy was still Alive.

11: ranboo's "dream is the reason" being intrinsically tied to how he's Seen dream hurt tommy and rip him apart from his friends.

12: His Speech At The Green Festival. "why can't you guys just choose PEOPLE" not directed at tommy but to Defend Him. why didn't they defend him because he was their Friend? why did the politics Matter when they all knew what was happening was wrong? (of course, we know the answer to that. but ranboo wasn't there to see it. he didn't know)

13: ranboo being there at doomsday, despite everything he was there. I Think About It

14: Ranboo Being There At The Disc War Finale, Finally Putting Himself Between Tommy And Dream. Dream Specifically Looking At Him In A Crowd Of People. I Think About It I Think About It.

15: Tommy's Death, My Fucking God Tommy's Death. him finding the allium and realizing that tommy had kept it. him openly furious at the way the server treated him, how nobody saved him and how all of this could've been prevented if people had just Acted, if they'd Cared. everyone including himself.

chewing out sam for leaving him, sam talking to him bluntly about exile, I Think About It I Think About It I Think About It

16: ranboo and tubbo shadowing tommy after his revival. killing mobs for him, putting blocks under him while he's walking, watching to make sure that he's okay. Trying To Help Him Be Okay. doing therapy with him, talking with him. so afraid that he'll just disappear. "does he make you happy?" I think about it

17: tommy having a place in the mansion, even if he'd never moved in, he was supposed to be there

18: a major part of ranboo's struggle with his enderwalking not Just being about the fear of it happening at all, But The Realization That He Might've Hurt Tommy and how it absolutely Ate Him Up Inside

In Conclusion: if beeduo marriage hadn't happened I fully believe people would've started shipping c!ranboo and c!tommy and all of the discourse about rpf would've happened about them instead, and then years later tommy would've dropped his own actual rpf featuring his real self. this alternate timeline is way funnier

[pheliiaa]

it must be love. ᥫ᭡

ᥫ᭡ - niki sets you and wilbur on a classic dinner date.

note - inspired by 'must be love' - laufey!!! frwiends to lovers ahhahs! dividers by @cafekitsune !!

warnings - use of a nickname (beautiful), a kiss at the end!!

| use of you/yours, y/n used as well ! |

time moved so, so much slower than usual when you were with wilbur. it was weird, you thought.

you couldn't be in love with him, were you?

"come on," niki sighed. "it's so obvious by the way you look at him, y/n. the look you make while staring at him is like he's a treasure chest you've been going through so many adventures for."

you scoffed, not believing niki yet. "niki, I don't like him. he's just a really close friend of mine."

the girl in front of you smirked while putting on her makeup, "sure, we'll see."

you raised your eyebrow at that but shrugged it off.

niki suggested you needed someone to be there with you. you declined but she insisted on getting you a date, so you gave in and agreed only for her to stop asking.

you arrived at the restaurant, feeling anxious as you paid your uber.

as you cluelessly walked in, your eyes widened slightly as you saw wilbur sitting at a table, clearly waiting for someone. but you didn't know, that someone would be you.

you saw him glance up at you, eyes lighting up as he put his phone in his pocket and waved for you to come over.

"niki said you'd be my date." wilbur said with a soft smile, and you swore you could see a faint blush on his pale skin.

"she- she didn't tell me you were my date, she just told me to find out for myself." you felt your cheeks heat up lightly as he snickered softly.

"it's okay, you're here. there's no going back now, beautiful." he murmurs the nickname, eyeing your features like he doesn't see a single flaw in you.

"I-huhm, what?" you blurted out, flustered at the nickname he'd called you.

"nothing." he replies quickly, looking away with a slight blush on his cheeks. the way it immediately felt uncomfortably awkward was embarrassing both you and wilbur.

he cleared his throat, a timid expression on his face. "so, uhm. what do you want to order?"

"the.. roast pork and potatoes..?" you asked awkwardly, looking at the menu for an excuse not to make eye contact with the brown-haired, attractive (you'd admit,) man across from you.

he nods, letting out a small hum as he calls the waiter.

"could she get a roast pork with potatoes? I'll get the same." he spoke softly, watching as the waiter wrote it down and busily walked to other waiting customers.

as you both waited, the silence was louder than the busy restaurant with flowing customers and fast-paced waiters skillfully writing down the orders of the people arriving.

"so.." wilbur awkwardly started, trying to start a conversation so you both wouldn't be as awkward anymore.

you stayed silent, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers as you couldn't think of any topic you could talk about.

".. do you know why niki set us both up on this date?" he asked, looking at you with genuine curiosity.

"um, she told I needed someone so she insisted she'd get me a date. didn't know it'd be you though." you answered shyly, looking everywhere but his eyes.

"really? does she think you're in lo-" wilbur responded before getting cut off by a waiter serving us our food and immediately getting back to work.

"thank you-" you both said at the same time before laughing softly, easing the tension between the two of you.

"so.." you both started again, giggling quietly.

"this is so weird." you chuckled.

"well, great minds think alike, don't they?" he replied, eyeing both your foods that were starting to get cold.

you hummed in response, leaning your cheek in the palm of your hand as your elbow stayed on the table, looking at the food you both hadn't eaten as well.

"I think we should eat." he muttered, looking at you before grabbing the utensils given by the waiter and slowly eating the food.

you followed his actions, taking bite after bite.

you both ate in silence, well, not really. many people were chattering in other tables, some couples, family, friends.

both of you finished eating, and wilbur spoke once again, "would you like me to walk you back home, or..?"

"no, it's okay I'll just get an ub-" he interrupted you, "it's okay, I don't mind walking you back home."

you hesitated before sighing. "fine,"

you saw his cheeks faintly flush, eyes lighting up as he stood up from the wooden, polished chairs. he took out his wallet, and before you could protest, he immediately placed the paper bill down.

you sighed, extremely grateful at this kind gesture of wilbur's. you watched him place his wallet in his pocket, looking back down at the floor.

though, your cheeks heated up again as he took your hand, leading you out from the chattering customers and busy workers, to the calm streets and cold breeze of the night.

this time though, the silence wasn't so uncomfortable. it was nice, listening to each other's breathing and the vehicles passing by.

as you both reached your house, he let go of your hand.

you slowly waved, walking to your house before feeling wilbur's hand pull yours again.

"wait." he spoke quietly.

you looked back at him with confused eyes before they widened as you felt his lips on yours.

he brought a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing the soft skin with his rough, calloused fingers.

he softly pulled back, looking down with a blush on his face that was illuminated by the streetlight near you both.

"I love you." he whispered.

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

POV: you're me looking at Wilbur Soot "coming back" video, as he explains that he's indeed NOT ADDRESSING ANYTHING AND IS AVOIDING IT COMPLETELY only to be announcing a tour in Australia and a new song like he thought people were gonna be excited about a man who hurt member of the public, admitted to bitting people even the told him to stop, hurt Shelby after she'd withdrawn her consent, admitted to biting Niki Nihachu LIVE and playing it off as "well tell them how horrible I am boo hoo", hitting Technoblade in the arm after his post cancer treatment surgery and laughing about it LIVE, basically screwing over the MCC video production takes because now they can't use him in update videos effectively making the whole event less popular meaning that on occasion less people from charities get money, giving a disingenuous apology, being rude to the people hosting his concerts, stomping on tommyinnit hands TWICE in a video for "ruining his day" / to make fun of him, being egotistical enough to write himself back into the narrative of Dsmp after he died because he basically explained on stream that it wasn't "heading in the direction he wanted it to" and believe it wasn't good enough and most importantly shatter the trust in his ACTUALLY fans that could afford/would go to see him

Because the only fans he has now are 10-15yr old girls who are "ride or die" for any form of man in modern day media, telling people to kill themselves and get r*pe if they initially didn't support their ideologies and who CAN'T EVEN AFFORD TO FLY OUT TO AUSTRALIA TO GO SEE HIM-

[modelbus]

Ahem- hey- uh- I-

…NOW I FEEL LIKE TOMMY TUBBO WILBUR AND RANBOO IN PART TWO- HELP FFJYTFJHTYTFTH

SOOOOO- HI THERE ITS ME ✨🌌🌙 ANNON, THE DISAPPEARING ANNON- LOOK- I-

OKAY SO EXPLANATION TIME, I HONESTLY THOUGHT MY CRAPPY REQUEST WOULD BE IGNORED- I ALSO HAVE NOT BEEN ON TUMBLR SINCE LIKE A WEEK AFTER I SENT IT- I COME BACK TO READ SOME STUFF FROM OUR GOOD OLD LORD AND SAVIOR MODEL, TO SEE; ONE IT WAS RECENTLY YA BIRTHDAY! (Happy late birthday-) AND TWO.. MY REQUEST WAS TURNED INTO A MASTER PEICE OF AGES WITH TWO WHOLE PARTS, I APPARENTLY HELPED GET YOU OUT OF A WRITING SLUM- AND PEOPLE ACTUALLY REALLY LIKED MY CRUMMY IDEA (Thanks to your POGGERS writing)

so basically- THANK YOU ‘O GREAT MODEL FOR HEARING MY PLEA AND DELIVERING GREATNESS!!!

also I am gonna try and be more active on tumblr now so like- yey.

ALSO ALSO, I may sometimes send in requests of my silly little ideas cuz like chaos cut fed my soul and I am now the ✨ H a p p e h ✨

ALSO ALSO ALSO, part three of chaos cut???, we are at home and get messages asking like “Yo we good now? You forgive us for being assholes??” and we say smth like “you gonna respond to my messages? Then sure” some kind of tweet is made could be as vague as “shes gonna be in videos again yayyy” or could be the group admitting to what happened?? *eyes* maybe responses from other friends?? Ofc that is a suggestion for if you decide to further continue.

wether you decide to continue it or not or you decide to use this or not, thank you so much, chaos cut was all I wanted it to be and more.

I’M BACK BABYYY!!

-All the love, ✨🌌🌙 Annon.

You live!! And I’d love to receive more of your amazing little ideas :) honestly, I’d write 500 parts of Cut Chaos

I probably formatted this weird because of the messages part and the Twitter part but Oh Well.

Pairing(s): cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Cut Chaos Part 3

The day you spent with Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, and Tommy after the store might’ve been the best day you’ve ever had. You’re finally able to breathe again, to laugh again. Smiling had started drifting away from you, but suddenly you were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

You almost don’t go home. It’s tempting to stay with Ranboo when he offers up one of their many spare bedrooms (and you do mean many), but you decline. Heading back home, closing the door to your bedroom is easier than it’s ever been. Just living is easier than it used to be.

Collapsing onto your bed, it only takes you a second before you start grinning like an idiot to yourself. Things are back to normal, back to how they should be. Sure, you could still be mad at them for what happened, but you were tired of not being around them. Tired of people being pissed off.

It takes you a full three minutes before you roll onto your side and unlock your phone with Face ID. There’s a plethora of notifications waiting for you, from a group chat that you thought was a ghost town. It makes you grin all over again.

Wilbur so we’re all good now?

Tommy yeah, u forgive us for being assholes??

Tubbo Becuase we r super sorry

You You guys gonna respond to my messages from now on?

Ranboo I promise on Tommy’s life

You Then yeah

Tommy HEY

Laughing to yourself, you swipe out of messages to open Twitter and scroll on it. You aren’t afraid to open it, not like you used to be. Random tweets would remind you of what you lost, of the various people confused why you lost it, but now you’re just giddy. Overjoyed.

Part of you wanted to announce the plans you made with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo. Scream from the (metaphorical) rooftops of Twitter that you were back. The chaos squad was back.

But, as it turns out, Tommy beat you to it. Of course he did, he can’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him. In a loving way, of course.

tommyinnit ﹫Tommyaltinnit guess who is BACK in the NEW VLOG

|_ You ﹫Yourusername me BITCHES

|_ Nia ﹫randomfanpersondontworry OMG OMG OMG NO WAY !!! CHAOS SQUAD ISNT DEAD FUCK ALL OF YOU IM WINNING TODAY

You grin, scrolling through the replies to Tommy’s tweet—including Tubbo and Ranboo’s—then realize the group name is trending. With wide eyes, you switch what you’re scrolling through to read the new tweets.

Annon ﹫StarStarMoon Anyone know what happened between the chaos squad??? Like they all drop her and now she’s back?? Something definitely happened…

|_ Real Person ﹫RealpersonIcreated THIS! Why did nobody talk about it. I wanna know fr fr

|_ Max ﹫Myfriendsnameisbeingused I think they all dropped her over those rumors ages ago. Makes sense to me tbh

|_ Charlie ﹫Myotherfriendsnameisbeingused Totally on her side if something did happen honestly lmao

Oh, fuck. You hesitate, not sure what to do, then ignore the tweet and its replies. Things were good, you didn’t need to dwell on when they were bad. Let people be people and let them speculate all they want.

This was your life and your happiness. Returned, at last.

[shubblelive]

— HYPOTHETICAL CAT

summary : your first time staying with wilbur since the beginning of your long-distance relationship, and you're already dreading leaving him. luckily for you, you may not have to.

genre : fluff

warnings : slightly dialogue heavy?? not proofread unlike usual but i think we're good

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x cc!fem!reader

pronouns : none (you/yours) BUT wilbur referrs to reader as a girl

featuring : cc! wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a wilbur fic where him and the reader have a long distance relationship? And one day when she comes and visits him, he admits he cant go such long periods of time without seeing her, so he proposes that she moves in with him, the rest is up to you, thank you! xx

word count : 873

note : okay i wrote this all in one day which i never do but it was a struggle. but, i power through for you guys. i hope you enjoy this <33333

No one told you when you started out that your favourite thing about content creation would be the webcam quality. Of course, it was definitely something you could live without, but on nights when it was just you and Wilbur, a video call on your desktop as your sun rose and his set, the fact that you could see him in picture perfect vision was occasionally the only thing holding you together. 

But then suddenly, he was right in front of you.

You and Wilbur had been together for nearly three years, meeting at a creator event ages ago. You’d seen him at a panel and he’d waited in line to meet you just to give you his phone number, asking you to call him, and two weeks later he was calling you darling. 

You’d known at that first meeting that you lived awfully far from each other, but that hadn’t been thought of as a particularly big issue until the two of you started dating, and then it was comparable to torture. You’d have semi-regular meetings where he’d fly to your place and stay with you for a couple of days. This time, though, this was different.

“You have been holding out on me,” your voice was heavy with sleep, your head in Wilbur’s lap as the two of you watched something, some nature documentary that was playing so softly it was almost designed to put you to sleep. “Your couch is so much more comfortable than mine is.”

Wilbur looked down at you fondly. “My bad,” he laughed steadily, careful not to be too loud. “I guess I thought that if you got to experience the wonders of my sofa you’d only wanna come here, I wouldn’t get to come see you as much.”

“I knew you and Mr Gardener had some weird thing going on,” you said, accusatory with a smile draped across your face.

“He makes you bread!” Wilbur defended. “How are you not obsessed with him?”

You cracked one of your eyes open sleepily, hand coming up to reach for his. He took it eagerly, drinking in your figure as you lay on his couch. “I’m pretty sure he’s not the one doing it.”

Wilbur threw his head back to rest against the couch, letting out a puff of air. “Okay, maybe Emily is the one doing the actual baking, but you can’t tell me that Mr Gardener doesn’t add to the experience.”

“I’m sure he does.” You hummed.

“You can not seriously tell me that baking a loaf of bread is not made infinitely better by the presence of a cat.”

You paused. “Okay, okay. It would be.”

Wilbur let out a pleased noise, moving down to run his hands up and down the exposed skin by your collarbone. “We should get a cat,”

His voice was barely loud enough for you to hear it, your eyes closed and his voice heavy with exhaustion. The two of you had been out all day on the first day of your visit, finally taking a moment to rest. 

“Should we?” You mused. “Who gets custody?”

Wilbur made a choking sound like the answer was obvious. “Well- I would, right?”

You forced yourself up, yawning as you brought your knees to your chest. “Why am I jealous of our hypothetical cat right now?”

Wilbur chuckled and reached for you, sitting forward on his knees, gently tugging at your calves until he was resting on your chest. “You don’t have to be,” he pointed out. “I’ve got a very big bed. And an entire section of wardrobe that I’m not using, and-”

“Wilbur,” you chided. “You know it’s not as easy as me simply never going home. Believe me, if I could spend the rest of my life curled into this couch, I would but-”

Wilbur sighed dramatically, pulling himself off you and standing up. “There you go, dream crusher,” he let out an exaggerated groan, taking you by the hand and pulling you up. His cheek was pressed against the side of your face, hands interlocked. “Crushing my dreams all crush-ier and dreamy.”

You let out a giggle as he poked your side. “You think I’m dreamy?”

“So dreamy,” he nodded. “Dream girl material right here, loves me, loves our future cat-”

“Loves your sofa,” you added dreamily. 

“And before I let you two get a room, please just consider moving in with me?” He begged gently. “Come on, wouldn’t it be so nice? Just you and me, I’d even let you name the cat. Please?”

“I’m not doing it for you.” You conceded. “I’m doing it for Rhubarb and all of the future kisses I am going to get from him on my new couch.”

He kissed you on the forehead. “Okay, I’ll leave you guys alone, I see where I’m not wanted.” He pressed another one on the side of your mouth.

“No,” you groaned, trying to drag him back on the couch. “I don’t have our cat yet, I need someone to shower me with affection.”

He huffed as he sat back on the couch, letting you collapse on top of him, revelling in the comfortable weight of you pressed against him. “Fine, fine. If I must.”

[ghostiexe]

Teacher AU!Wilbur x Reader

hello fellas i'm back with another wilbur fic he has been all i can think about for the past several days. take this

wordcount: 1,461 (part 1/?)

as always this is not proof read sorry lads

part 2 here

Being a teacher is not the job you thought you’d end up with when you were doing career planning in 12th grade, but here you stand. 

Back in the same high school you swore never to return to. 

Oh, well, then. At least you have mediocre pay and little to no benefits, right?

You sigh and drop a box onto the desk in your mostly empty classroom. It’s bare and almost liminal in a sense, and you can't help but feel creeped out. 

You step back from the desk and examine the room with your hands on your hips for a moment before shaking your head. This setup is awful, you decide. Time to change it up a bit. 

You get to work pushing desks across the room, trying to ignore the screeching of metal against linoleum. You’re already sweating and it’s only been a couple minutes since you made the decision to completely change the room. 

You huff softly as you drag another desk, having two of the legs lifted slightly off the ground. Suddenly, you lose your grip on it, and it falls directly onto your foot. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim, yanking your foot out from under it and pulling your leg up protectively, bouncing slightly as you try to keep your balance with your one foot on the ground. Suddenly, you hear a soft knock on your doorframe and you whip your head around to see who it is. 

You’re met with the sight of a concerned looking, very, very tall man. He has a mess of curly brown hair and glasses that are too big for his face, though you can’t help but think they suit him. “Um… Are you alright?” He asks, gesturing to your foot, which you realize you’re still holding. Your face flushes and you put your foot back down on the ground, tucking your hair, embarrassed. 

“Yes, I’m okay.” You assure him, laughing awkwardly. “Sorry, uh, for my language.” You apologize, and he cracks a small smile. 

“It’s okay.” He assures you, leaning against the doorframe. “Is this your first year teaching?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious as he looks you up and down. You nod. 

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, starting to drag the desk again. The man winces at the sound. “Do you need help?” He asks, and you nod instantly. 

“Yes please.” You say, sighing in relief. He walks over and lifts the other side of the desk, following your lead when you take it to the corner of the room. He clears his throat as the both of you work. 

“So, I assume you’re the new English teacher, then…?” He asks, and you nod, stepping back to look at your now rearranged room. You hum softly in approval of the sight. 

“Uh, yeah, I am.” You say, realizing you haven’t introduced yourself. You wipe your palms on your pants and reach out, offering your name and a handshake. He accepts. 

“I’m Wilbur.” He introduces himself. “Though you’ll have to refer to me as Mr. Soot in front of the kids, I suppose.” He says, shrugging. You smile gently. 

“Well, Mr. Soot, I appreciate the help.” You tell him, and he nods, glancing away and then back to you, looking a little shy. 

“It’s no problem, really.” He mumbles, scratching the back of his head. Your attention is drawn toward his outfit, then, and you let out a startled laugh. 

“Is that The Front Bottoms? No way, I love them.” You say. He looks a little surprised, but nods eagerly. 

“It is! You like them?” He asks, the nervousness slipping away slightly. “Yeah, of course!” You say, beaming up at him. “I’ve seen them in concert twice.” Wilbur groans at the news. 

“Unfair, I’ve been wanting to see them for forever.” He says with a small pout. You giggle. “Well, I wish you luck on getting tickets.” You say, lazily saluting. He laughs softly. 

“Well, now I’m glad I wore this shirt today.” He says. “You’ll probably not see me in it again for a while, I don’t dress casually on school days.” He says, crossing his arms and leaning against your wall. You hum. 

“Oh? And what do you teach, again?” You ask, and he sighs. “Oh, God, good question. Well, I’m supposed to be the History and Geography teacher, but the board found out I can play instruments, so now I’m supposed to be teaching a combined history-slash-music class. I had to plan the whole class in a month.” He complains, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation. You wince. 

“Yikes. That sounds interesting, though. How did you manage that? Is it, like, just exploring the history of music?” You ask, and he nods.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He admits, rubbing his arm. “It’s probably gonna be a shit class, since I barely had time to put anything together.” He says with a sigh. “But I’m supposedly the ‘boring’ teacher anyway, so it’s not like I have a reputation to uphold anyway.” He says sarcastically. You frown. 

“Boring? You don’t seem boring to me, why do they think you’re boring?” You ask, genuinely bewildered. He winces. 

“Ah, well, I was a new teacher last year, so my lessons were very, uh, by the book, I guess you could say. I didn’t really put any of my own spins on the lessons or anything because I was too focused on trying to drill information into their brains.” He says, sounding a little embarrassed. “Ahh, I see.” You say sympathetically, nodding. “Well, what do you have planned for this year?” You ask, gesturing for him to come sit at your desk with you. You grab one of the plastic chairs for yourself and let him sit in your spinning chair. 

“Well, I’ve been trying to think of ways to spice geography up, so I found a couple games I thought might be interesting to have them play in class.” He says, tapping on his chin thoughtfully as he sits back in your chair, looking up at the ceiling. “I might have them playing Geoguessr.” He says, resting his hands on his lap. “Oh, that sounds fun!” You say, clapping your hands lightly. “I wish I could do something like that for my class.” You say. 

He turns his gaze back to you. “Well, what grade are you teaching English for?” He asks. “Because if you’ve got freshmen and sophomores, I’d say it’s probably not the best idea, but if you’ve got the juniors and seniors, you could definitely do something with them.” You nod. “I’m teaching for juniors and seniors, actually. But I have a senior creative writing class, too.” Wilbur looks pleased at the news. “Oh, really? What’ve you got planned for creative writing?” He asks, smiling softly. “I always like seeing what the students come up with, some of the kids from last year were actually really good.” He says. You smile back. 

“Well, I’ve planned a unit on the butterfly effect, but I also want to do some poetry next term.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear and gently tapping your fingers on the desk. Wilbur hums thoughtfully. 

“Well, poetry could be fun. I’m a shit poet, honestly, but I mean, at least they make for good song lyrics?” He says, wincing slightly before waving his hand to dismiss the topic. “That will be fun, though, I think. Is it an elective or required class?”

“Just an elective.” You respond, tucking away the comment about song lyrics for later. You still your hands and place them flat on the desk. “Thankfully. I don’t know if I could force a bunch of uninterested kids into actually doing the work if it was required.” You say, shaking your head. He makes a sympathetic sound. “Yeah, I understand. Sometimes I wish that I taught more elective classes, but there’s not really many history or geography related electives I would be eligible to teach, anyway.” He says, chuckling to himself. “Maybe if the kids drive me crazy enough I’ll just give up and have ‘em watch Crash Course videos for the whole class.” He jokes, and you giggle softly. 

“If only, if only.” You say, sighing dramatically. After a pause – a few moments of comfortable silence – you speak up again, clearing your throat. 

“So how’s the cafeteria food here? Any good? I mean, when I went to school here it sucked, any developments?” You ask. “Oh, you went here for high school?” He asks, before shaking his head. “Unfortunately no, by the way. What year did you graduate? I graduated in ‘18.” He says, pushing his large glasses up. 

“Oh, I graduated in 2019. We’re only a year apart, that’s cool.” You say, then glance at the time. “Shit, it’s nearly five.” You say, frowning. “I need to finish setting up my room.” You say, standing up and sighing. He nods in understanding. “That’s alright, I’ll leave you to it.” He says, standing up too. “Unless you need help, still?” You shoot him a grateful smile but shake your head. “No, it’s alright. Thank you, though. For helping, and for keeping me company. I’ll, uh, see you around?” You ask, and he nods. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll make sure to drop by your classroom.” He says, running a hand through his curls. “And, um, don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.” He adds, sounding a bit shy. 

“Of course, thank you so much, Wilbur.” You say, grateful you’ve got someone to talk to now. You smile at him, though it looks a bit exhausted. “I’ll see you Monday.” 

“I’ll see you Monday.” He agrees, waving at you before stepping out and walking down the hall to his own room. The second he walks away you have to take a moment to breath. 

What the fuck, he was cute.

[cryptias-space]

I finally finished it!

Welcome fully to the world, human Lord's in Black!

My favorite design is probably Blinky and Tinky. The only one I'm not 100% happy with is Wiggly. I wanted to give him more detailed tartan pants but I just gave up. He has Christmas colors though, I thought it was funny. Nibbly having tanlines was a completely random choice. I think him having a bagel in his mouth gave me too much Aoi Asahina vibes and I was compelled for the tanlines lol

The story so far is that Webby got tired of her brothers wreaking havoc and decided they needed to see how hard it is to be human. She sent them all to Hatchetfield, with Wilbur Cross in toe to keep them in line, as human teenagers. She left Wilbur a book of everything they need to know, including new names and semi new human forms. Along with these new fully human bodies comes with human issues, like disabilities and mental health issues. (AKA more headcanons I can force onto them lol)

Individuals and more info under the cut

First up and shortest at 5 foot 4, Nibblenephim.

Nibbly is now named Nikolai Phillips, or Nicky for short. He is the only one of the LiB to have been put in an AFAB body due to his genderfluid identity and more feminine leaning nature. He does not mind this at all.

When Nicky goes to school he decides on joining the Culinary club, desperate to learn how to cook since Wilbur is so garbage at it. He is constantly being hit on by everyone at school and he takes advantage of it to make them take him to Pasqualli’s to get free food.

With Nibblys design I wanted to steer away from the classic Hairstyle. Everyone has his eyes covered, and while I do love that design so much, it would get in the way of his cooking and it isn't practical. I personally hc him as genderfluid and afab so I had to do it to him lol

The "human issue" I'm giving Nicky is ADHD and really bad memory issues. This is going to cause people to tease him for being dumb and while he jokes back about it, the teasing does get to him.

Second in at 5 foot 6, T'noy Karaxis.

Tinky is now named Tobias Kelly, or Tobi for short. Despite being 18 his goatee often makes people think he's older.

Tobi joined band, specifically as a trumpet player (iykyk), as well as joining the robotics club. He spends most of his time clinging to Peter Spankoffski and breaking into Theodore Spankoffski's home and workplace. He is constantly getting in trouble at school for being a class clown.

With Tinkys design I was going for a sort of extremely simple pastel goth or harajuku. Originally I wanted to give him way more of a Decora fashion but I didn't want him to look too complicated. He compulsively buys and plays with rubicks cubes (the colors are supposed to reference the Spankoffski brothers) also, notice the Tobi ♡ Peter friendship bracelet... Peter won't wear his lol

The "human issues" I'm giving Tobi is Autism and BPD. I feel like Tinky being autistic in any way makes sense, so Tobi is autistic with a special interest in puzzles and electronics (and the Skankoffski's but he won't admit that). With extremely sensitive ears and autism, he tends to have meltdowns often. And these meltdowns tend to be in public, causing people to judge him and think of him as a child. The BPD comes in with quick changing emotions, Ted and Pete being his favorite persons and getting extremely jealous and territorial. (I have BPD so I had to force this on him lol)

In the middle and completely average at 5 foot 10, Wiggog Y’Wrath. (He says he's 6 foot)

Wiggly is now named Waylon Webb. An obvious reference to the Waylon's and a painful reminder that Webby is the one who did this to them.

Waylon joined the chess team and quickly became the best player, and the leader. He also ran for student council president and won. He used his siblings skills to make sure he won. He bribed the student body with Nicky's food, annoyed the competition with Tobi's trumpet playing, and took amazing campaign photos with the help of Benjamin (Blinky). Percy (Pokey) refused to help him.

With Wiggly's design I wanted to go very simple and stick with the letterman jacket he had in NPMD. However... I had to give him red pants, I needed him to be Christmas colors lol I wish I spent time to figure out how to do his pants but alas, I am dumb. He wears the crown all the time, and it often gets stolen by Max Jägerman to tease him for being short

The "human issues" I'm giving Waylon is NPD. He views himself as better than everyone, save for a few specific people he views as equals. He struggles with self esteem and even if he would never admit it, what others think of him really matters. He often goes into crashes if the people around him ignore him too much, and he will go into highs when he gets too cocky. When he's in one of these crashes, Waylon gets extremely depressed and either isolates or desperately seeks attention. (I also have NPD so I had to force this on him lmao)

The second tallest at 6 foot 1, Bliklotep.

Blinky is now named Benjamin Thomas, or Benji for short. While he does have a face, his eyes being green if you're curious, he almost always has a phone or camera in front of his face.

Benji joined the photography club as well as the school newspaper. He writes almost exclusively gossip columns but the school eats it up. He does however take amazing photos for his siblings when needed, and also seems to have a strange obsession with amusement parks. Speaking of strange obsession, much like Tobi, Benji is often breaking into the CCRP building, but no one is quite sure why. Whenever asked he just says "an old friend" works there.

Blinky is my favorite design of the group I think. I knew I wanted him to be kinda feminine and lanky, but not as feminine as Nibbly and not as twink body as Pokey. His eye motif worked so well for the overalls and I feel like I managed to make eyes and overals not feel like The Minions lamo I also love the orange hair with the purple in it. The boots are supposed to be the knee high convers but in all magenta. I should have added the white on the toe but I forgot lol

The "human issues" I'm giving Benjamin is Hallucinations. I'm not knowledgeable enough to specify what disorder he has that's causing them, I'm leaning towards Schizophrenia, but again, I don't want to label it until I do more research. He often sees, hears, and feels things that aren't there. Most frequently he sees creepy, disembodied eyes surrounding him. When he hears things he often covers his ears and shouts to get them to go away, causing people to stare at him, which only makes him panic. His tactile hallucinations are almost always the feeling of bugs on and under his skin. (This is the type of Hallucinations I deal with so I had to force it on him lmao)

And lastly but definitely not least, the tallest of the human Lord's coming in at 6 foot 3, Pokotho.

Pokey is now named Percy Martins. He is the tallest and also has the deepest voice of the siblings.

Percy joins the drama club, obviously. He actually manages to get roles despite being a new student. He spends almost all his time in the auditorium practicing for auditions or the roles that he gets. Surprisingly he latched onto Richie the same way that Tobi latched onto Pete. Percy constantly asks Richie if he can come over to his house, and seems to know a surprising amount about Richies uncle. Just like Tobi and Benji, Percy is also constantly breaking into the CCRP building. When asked he will say "his muse" works there. He also has a deep seeded hatred for coffee bur refuses to elaborate on why.

With Pokey's design I wanted it to be comfortable but also elegant. To me he's giving Howl from Howls Moving Castle lol I was really determined to give him locs and honestly? I think I did a really good job for my first time! He has little jewels hanging out of them and also has his own mask as a necklace. The cane is very functional for him, but he definitely should have a different type of cane, possibly a different aid in general but he refuses to use the others because he thinks they're not fancy enough.

The "human issues" I'm giving Percy is chronic pain, POTS, and autism. The POTS and pain is what makes him need the cane. He often has to sit or lie down because of how light headed he will get. Also, he always has lots of water and salty snacks in his bag. He's autistic, special interest in musical theater. He has really bad sensory issues with textures, and much like Tobi, gets easily overstimulated. However, unlike Tobi, when he gets overwhelmed to any degree, he goes non speaking. This is really annoying to him, as he loves the sound of his own voice and hates not being able to speak. This causes him a lot of distress, which only makes him more overwhelmed.

That's it! I'm really proud of these designs, and I really hope to keep writing this fic idea. I love these fuckers so much

[wil-dearest]

Anonymous asked: ok 🫣🫣 reader reading a * spicy * book and wilbur seeing them…. hehe

Mhm mhm, i see your point. Enjoy

trigger warning: the book you are reading has explicit smut in it and well its a little filthy at the end. but 18+.

brought to you by wil-dearest, may i present absolute horseshit

Kiss the Cook

In your defense, the book had been gifted to you by an older cousin who gave you a sly wink, telling you to enjoy. Your love for reading wasn't private information and had this been any other occasion and not your birthday, you most likely would've never read it. (Somehow, your relatives never get what you like. So they sit on a bookshelf as they collect dust and you sit on the idea of donating them.) And also because your cousin texted you saying the main lead was your type. And so if he was?

Here we are, three months after your birthday and you're sitting on at the dining table, reading. Your boyfriend, Wilbur, had been sweet enough that he wanted to make dinner by himself. And with the free time that's been so generously given, you give the book a shot.

Big mistake, after the first two chapters, it gets steamy.

Her head tipped back, with Jeremy's mouth teasing her skin, every touch and every bite he leaves spins her vision. "You understand now, what you do to me is torture." Even his voice, vibrating against the column of her throat, her mouth parts with a gasp. She does understand now.

She can't focus clearly but with the way his hands burn as they grip her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and his cock bumping against her entrance, it's as if her nerves had been lit on fire. The first push drives her nails into his skin and he smooths her hair down, hardly biting his moans back. "Ever since I met you," he gasps, interrupting himself as his hips twitch, "I couldn't get you out of my head. You consumed my being, every waking second." Maybe it'd been the wine, maybe it'd been the careless flirting because why would it ever be more than flirting remarks, it doesn't matter. All Nikki knows right now is how good it feels with him inside her.

You had to put the book down for a moment and cover your face, giggling a little bit to yourself. What the fuck had that been? You peek through fingers and eye the book, biting down on a bottom lip. You'll continue, you decided. Picking up the book, though, Wilbur came out to greet you, his hair a little run-through, like he was pulling the edges again. "How's the book?" He asks, smiling as he leaned in for a quick kiss. Your eyes closed as you hummed, not at all hiding your blush and your smile.

"It's not what I thought it was going to be." You answer, not at all wanting to admit that you just found out the book you're reading leans more into the erotic genre.

"Different?" He asks, his hand coming up and cupping the back of your head as he kissed your cheek. You nod. "And not a bad different?" He kisses your other cheek, drinking up your soft laughter. "Good, then you know where to find me," he pulls back, smiling at you. His thumb comes up to graze your cheek, where he kissed it. He kisses you one last time before heading back inside the kitchen.

You sigh dreamily, wondering how you ever managed to charm him with your tendencies to be a hermit. It cannot be helped, you'll just have to accept you've accidentally cursed him or something. Moving on from real life romance, you turn your eyes back down to the inconspicuous novel. It couldn't hurt to read a little more.

About thirty minutes later, Wilbur decides he's taken long enough and serves two bowls, taking the steaming meals and finding you so engrossed into the novel, you hadn't even noticed him. Now he's not one to be jealous of a book, but just how good can it be when it wasn't your taste? (Yes, he'd been privy to that lovely rant with relatives and their gifting habits.)

He comes around and he had to double-check his eyes were working before he came to terms with the truth. You've been reading erotica.

He starts to mumble the words, "Nikki sobs as she tries to clenches her thighs," you gasp, your head looks over your shoulder, unable to move too much to avoid hitting his head, "overwhelmed by the constant pleasure. His tongue was simply too much, circling her clit and sucking on it before moving the two fingers inside of her again-" you drop the book, covering his mouth even as he tries to read it still, and you had little doubt you look flustered beyond all reason.

"What are you doing!?" You shriek, turning in your seat as you hid your face in his neck, trying to strangle and simultaneously hug him. His laughter is a deep vibration that tickles you while you held onto him, your own nerves lit on fire as his arms circle around your waist.

"Well I came to tell you dinner was ready," he nods to the steaming bowls and then his teasing eyes turned back to you and you dive your head back into his collarbones, "but you didn't even see me. I could see why now."

"Hush." Your voice comes out muffled and you do nothing to make yourself clearer.

"Dinner could always wait and we can recreate the scene in your book." He says pulling away from you and before you can say anything, he's dropped to his knees, his hair falling into his big eyes that stare into you as he nudges his face between your legs. You could hardly breathe with how he gets so close to your crotch, how his smile widens when he kisses your thigh and grips the other one with his- his fingers and you curse yourself for being so sensitive because all you want to do is moan his name. You cover your mouth even when he licks a stripe down the crotch of your jeans. You feel yourself trembling.

"Actually," he says, getting up a dizzying fashion, "I'll make sure to get dessert after dinner." His smile is downright predatory. How are you supposed to eat after all that?

[poraphia]

"Four Medium-Sized Coffees, One Big Fat Work Crush"

lvjy!wilbur x manager!reader 1457 words • 8.9.23 request by @mrssabinecallas! "lead singer will with a manager reader! they book all their performances and bring them coffee every morning, just happy to be there with Will and their friends"

requests are still open!! dont be shy :3 pt. 2 here <-

How to be a good tour manager: 1) Bring them coffee every morning 2) Don't fall in love with the lead singer

♡♡♡

Y’know, when I signed up for this job, I didn’t expect the roller coaster of emotions and action that would come with being an on-tour manager. 

I especially didn’t think I’d end up falling for the lead singer of Lovejoy, William Gold.

I have been a stage director for concerts for a couple of years now since I graduated from university. I worked for different venues, taking up jobs such as being in charge of soundcheck and directing the lights. After years of hard work and a resume of experience, I was finally offered my first opportunity of being an on-tour manager for a rising band that was touring the world.

I have to admit, it was different. I was constantly away from home and on the road. The one thing genuinely battling this homesick feeling was the constant adventure and excitement we faced in every city. From sitting awkwardly in an Uber as the driver told us horrific stories, to running around the late-night streets tasting cuisines we had never heard of before.

I remember on the first day, I was a nervous train wreck. I spent most of that night pacing around my hotel room while occasionally practicing in the mirror how to greet the band, how to talk to them, and how to even shake their hand. It wasn’t until the peak time of 4 AM I decided that I should keep things simple (and that I should probably go to sleep because I had to wake up in three hours).

I met up with the band at our first venue for a soundcheck. When I got the text that they were arriving shortly, I ran to the nearest cafe and ordered four coffees, each with a simple shot of espresso, two scoops of sugar, and a cup of milk. It was basic, and it wasn’t guaranteed it would be something they’d love, but I was far too deep to turn back around and return the coffee. Plus, wouldn’t that be a super awkward situation? Oh, hey Mr. Barista! Sorry, can you refund me these four coffees after I walked in the blazing city heat for roughly ten minutes before—

“Hi,” A deep, posh voice caused me to snap out of my thoughts. I looked around, not even realizing I was already at the venue, and the man was holding the door for me. He was tall with disheveled curly hair and he wore a striped T-Shirt with some basic black jeans. Glasses rested on the bridge of his nose but more importantly, there was the guitar case slung across his shoulder.

“O-Oh, thank you!” I stuttered, rushing past him to avoid any more embarrassment. He softly chuckled behind me before closing the door. I turned around, half-smiling to shake off the embarrassing situation I’ve seemed to stumble in.

“You must be (y/n), right? Our manager?” He asked, his eyes trailing from my face to my lanyard, to the cardboard cupholders presenting four hot and fresh beverages. 

“Yeah!” I exclaimed a bit too loudly. Guess that’s another check on the list for what will keep me up tonight. “I, uh, I got these coffees for you guys! Just to help you guys out with the jetlag and all…” I trailed off in the end. But thankfully, the man smiled and took a random cup, slightly pursing his lips to retrieve the beverage only to flinch back, laughing.

“Holy shit, this is hot.” He chuckled. I couldn’t help but laugh along as well. “Oh, fuck, where are my manners– My name is Wilbur, Will, William, honestly call me what you like.” He shrugged. “My other mates are right there and are practicing on stage right now. There’s Ash, Mark, and Joe.” He pointed to the respective person, each calling out their name. 

We both began to walk toward the backstage area and continued talking. As Wilbur walked nonchalantly with coffee in hand, I struggled to catch up to his long strides while also maintaining the balance of the rest of the drinks.  “It’s a funny way how we all became a band actually–” He turned around. Noticing my struggle as he spared a few milliseconds so that I may catch up. Will chuckled before continuing to walk at a much slower pace.

Once we arrived in the backstage lounge, I pushed the door for him with my back. He thanked me before walking past. “Oh, (y/n), I would like to mention something–” He said, turning his head to face me. I tilted my head, anticipating. “Next time you get us coffee, I’d like mine with two cups of milk!” He smiled. “Although, it is perfect as it is anyway. I’m sure the rest of the band would love it.”

As I watched him finish up his coffee and make his way to the stage, my mind was set on a new goal:

“Find out Lovejoy’s desired coffee orders.”

From that day forward, I brought them coffee every morning. From meeting them on the tour bus, at soundcheck, to even waiting in the hotel lobby. I would listen closely to what comments they would make. If Joe slightly mentions to Ash he doesn't like sweet coffee, I'll remember to add less sugar. If I heard Mark asking around for creamer, I'll remember to put more cream. My petty rule for myself was that I wouldn't dare ask them directly about their preferences. It was a fun little game for me, and it only took Wilbur a little over two months for him to notice.

Wilbur and I were sitting in the tour bus booth area going over the set list when he brought it up. "Hey, (Y/N), can I ask you something?" He said, tapping at his cardboard cup. I looked up from the piece of paper I was writing on to meet his eyes. 

"I know what you're gonna ask– I've already asked the stage crew if we could add smoke for The Fall along with some more flashing lights during Warsaw." I explained, pointing at the paper with the pen I had in hand.

Wilbur let out a soft chuckle with the softest smile on his face. His hair covered a bit of his eyes but even then I could see the reflection of light making his pupils sparkle. His laugh caused a fluttering sensation in my chest. My hands and stomach tingled as if dozens of butterflies were dancing on my skin. Was I.. Getting flustered?

"No, no, I wasn't going to ask that." He spoke gently. I held my breath, a little embarrassed for my rambling. "Though I do appreciate it all. You've picked up so much about us as a band in just a couple of weeks." He held the end joints of my fingers between his grasp as he spoke, fidgeting with them as he talked. 

"Oh, well…" I felt the blush creeping to my face. "that is kind of my job." I chuckled.

"Also you've been getting our coffee orders perfectly I've noticed. Mark was raving to me earlier about how good it tasted. Ash even posted it in his story." Wilbur said, reminiscing on his mornings with his friends. 

I couldn't hold back the biggest smile on my face. It took every nerve of my body not to jump up on the table and do the goofiest, happiest dance of my life. Instead, I nodded and hummed, using my thumb to rub circles into his hand.

"I'm really glad to hear that. This is my first on-tour job, so here it's just–" I stumbled over my words trying to find the right phrases, but I was so overwhelmed with giddiness I just sighed. "Thank you…"

Wilbur looked back up to meet my eyes again. His cheeks were dusted with the slightest bit of pink as he examined bits of my face. I wanted to take in every feature of his as well. From the small mole near his eye to how pink his lips were. How pretty his lips are… they look so… Soft–

"(y/N)! Wilbur!" Mark called out from the other end of the bus. Immediately we pulled away from each other, sinking ourselves in our opposite-end seats from embarrassment. 

"Yeah?! What is it, Mark?" Will called out, but he dared not to turn around to face him. 

"We're in LA now! You guys ready for our last gig in the States?!" He asked excitedly.

Oh, God. 

It was the last gig. 

Which means… 

I looked over to Will, who also had a slight shock on his face as if it slipped his mind as well. 

This is it, I suppose. 

Who was I to think I would get my happy rom-com ending?

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my wilbur soot masterlist ~! a / n ~ i have a part two idea for this already omg should I do it?? reblogs and likes are super appreciated!! they be motivating me :33