#and hes just like ‘’um :/ well hes a fucking moron? he deserves it’’ which like. as someone w an anxiety disorder i remember their scenes

[menlove]

any introductory beatles (just mclennon tbh) fics? 🤲

LORD OKAYYYYY i'll try not to go too crazy and just stick to my alltime faves.....

first of all anything @forthlin (milaway on ao3) has written literally ever. i am going to eat them one day. they are the yin to my yang and also the best writer this fandom has ever seeeeen. um. anyway! like i said, all their fics. but i'd Particularly rec your lucky break which is an au where john is a 30 something rockstar and paul is an up and coming musician in the 70s. and well! what can i say about this fic except it's sooo in character, hot, and also the reason i started talking to the best person on this earth so whatever

also completelyyyyy selfish but hey i only wrote half so i'm counting it but we also have an ongoing series: i want you, i need you, i love you where they're writing john's povs and i'm writing paul's! it's just basically our take on their timeline & relationship, but the third installment's going to be a fix-it

now onto me not being gay or selfish here's some of my favorites that i think are Must Reads.

Boy, You've Been A Naughty Girl

explicit. 49k. John makes Paul a bet. Paul takes him up on it. Crossdressing shenanigans and angst ensue, and ~feelings come out in the wash. 1961. rec notes: okay look. this one is just a classic. it's great. esp love it bc it's right up my alley with its "paul isn't an oblivious moron" takes. also.... hot.

I Still Miss Someone/I Know That I Miss You but I Don't Know Where I Stand

explicit. 64k. It's 1976 and Paul keeps showing up on John's doorstep with a guitar. Eventually John turns him away and Paul goes off to sulk in his hotel room the night before his flight from New York. Based on real events. rec notes: aaaaugh this one haunts me there's one scene i think of literally every time "i still miss someone" by johnny cash comes on, which is one of my fave songs. it's not a fix-it, but it's so so so good for the Vibes of their 70s relationship :(

Like Love, The Archers Are Blind

explicit. 22k. He wants to push Stuart out of the way, not even with a violent yank of his collar like he sometimes imagines. Just to melt into his place like butter sliding in a pan. Have it be an effortless breath of fresh air when John looks up at him and sees it all reflected back in his eyes. It’s you. rec notes: this one is just... soft. and so good for a snapshot of the hamburg vibe.

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc)

mature. 27k. John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul. Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be rec notes: literally my favorite mclennon fic everrrrrr ever ever. other than your lucky break. this is everything. this is it. like it nails their dynamic even though it's a magical au. it explores their relationship sooooo fucking well. i think about it like weekly.

John My Beloved

explicit. 33k. They've always loved each other, in their own way… rec notes: OTHER FAVORITE EVER it broke my heart it changed my fucking lifeeeee it changed my world. major character death warning but fuck man. i think about this literally constantly. this fic haunts me. i think it changed me. i had to stare at a wall for like 30 minutes after finishing it. i got choked up.

two of us (burning matches)

explicit. 6k. It won't stop raining. Paul doesn't know what his feelings are doing. John's practising his right swing. Somewhere along the way, they fuse together. rec notes: this one is just cuuuute and perfect for the Early Days Vibes.

Grow Old With Me

explicit. 8k. fix-it. Paul breaks his arm, and John panics. rec notes: SOOOO FUCKING SWEET. this is what they deserved and i like to live here in my mind when the reality of what actually happened gets to be too much.

1967

mature. 11k. canon-divergent au. In 1961, John Lennon and Paul McCartney left abruptly on a trip to Spain, via France. In 1967, they finally come home to face the consequences. rec notes: the style of this one is INSANE. it's so unique and i love it sososososo much. also the plot? is super unique???? basically it's an au where they never came home from paris and it's.... so fucking good. i love the way it looks at their dynamic like fuck. it's just perfect.

Way Up Top

explicit. 12k. Falling out of the sky, together. | Snapshots of the Beatles in Greece, July 1967 rec notes: LOVE this one for its portrayal of all non-mclennon parties. it fleshes everyone out, especially jane and cyn, in ways a lot of fics just skip. just sooo well written and melancholic in a great way i think.

When You Are Young They Assume You Know Nothing

mature. 26k. But Paul knows John. There’s something about Paris, though... rec notes: THE paris fic to me. this is soooo good and so fucking soft and it just. augh. it killed me.

a brief interruption, a slight malfunction

explicit. 12k. During the rooftop concert, John remembers why he used to find Paul so irresistible after a show. One more time won't hurt, right? rec notes: perfect breakup era fic. my rec notes on ao3 were "this was devastating :)" so. god. this fucked me up.

aaand honorary mentions to the two non-mclennon fics i've read but !

Knocking at Your Door

george/paul. explicit. 6k. It's easy enough, this time, to lean in and touch their lips together. A firm press of his mouth to Paul's; first at the corner, then right on the centre of his yielding, expressive lower lip. Paul and George: a few meetings over thirty-six years. rec notes: the opening sentence to this made me sick to my stomach and then the rest of the fic destroyed me permanently

Where The Sailors Go

ringo/paul. explicit. 5k. A drunken German mistakes Paul, alone in Hamburg's red light district, for a rentboy. Ringo, the Hurricanes' terrifyingly adult drummer, intervenes. Things happen, but Paul can't stop thinking about John. rec notes: PRINGOOOOO. with background mclennon. this was so real to me. also in the same universe as this fic is (It's Just) Another Day which is a transfem paul mclennon fic that rooocked my world. it's still a wip but holy fuck. made me rearrange the way i see paul tbh.

[perenlop]

this is an extreme example im aware, like hes just a kitty cat and all, but tbh. jayfeather rubs me the wrong way because of how common it is for doctors to mistreat their patients

avos jayfeather would probably make tiktoks mocking his patients and claim freedom of speech when people call him out on it

[coco-bean-1218]

hi claire!! hope you're having a good day :) i am once again here to feed my obsession with your story by asking for a directors commentary thing! you can do whatever section or part... but if you can't decide maybe a scene with oc!claire and her brother?

Hello!! Thank you for the ask! So, Claire actually doesn’t have a brother, but she does have an older sister! Sean and Benoit are characters she meets once she gets to Europe, and Noah is someone from her past.

Let’s do a “what if” scene that may or may not make the final cut, starring Noah! I haven’t done too much with him.

Warning: this is kinda out of character, but like I said, it's just an idea I'm throwing out there.

My poor golden retriever boy runs into some trouble with Easy.

---

1943

After a particularly grueling week of training, the members of Easy Company were relieved to have been granted weekend passes. It was a well-deserved break, and the men were taking full advantage of the opportunity to let loose. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol as everyone was enjoying the night, drinking and laughing with their fellow soldiers.

"You see that Navy guy over there?" Grant's finger wavered as he pointed towards a man in a Navy uniform across the room.

"Huh? Which one? There's like a hundred of 'em," Liebgott shouted, swaying slightly from his own drunkenness.

"That one right there, with the glasses!" Grant exclaimed, poking Talbert in the eye with his finger.

"What about 'im?" Talbert asked, trying to steady his drink as he leaned back.

"That's the…um…guy that broke Claire's goddamn heart," Grant mumbled, his words slurring together.

Liebgott erupted into laughter, "What?!"

"'s what she told me," Grant slurred.

"What's his name?" Talbert prompted.

"Oh, fuck, what was it?" Grant scrunched up his face, trying to remember through the alcohol haze, "Noah…something."

"Noah's Ark?" Liebgott cackled.

Grant rolled his eyes, "No, you moron. Not Noah's Ark."

"Ooh, someone's getting jealous over here," Talbert teased.

"I should…I should punch 'im," Grant suddenly declared.

Liebgott's laughter subsided, and he looked at Grant in disbelief, "I fucking dare you."

Grant nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly, "Fine."

Grant stumbled his way toward Noah, his mind clouded with alcohol-induced determination and a sense of longing. As he got closer, he noticed the man's calm demeanor- there was something about him that didn't fit the image of a heartbreaker. Yet, to Grant, he symbolized everything he heard about Claire's past.

At just a few feet away, his mind started to become clearer, and he realized that maybe punching the guy wasn't the best course of action. But it was too late to back down now.

He didn't even know what he was doing, and he felt an unfamiliar surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. But the thought of someone hurting Claire, his sweet, innocent Claire, ignited a fire within him. Grant's mind raced with thoughts of her- her warm smile, her laughter, and the longing in her eyes when she spoke of her failed romance. He couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking her away from him, even if it was just a memory now. 

He clenched his fists, ready to deliver a punch that would make Noah regret ever crossing paths with her.

"Hey, Navy boy," Grant shouted as he was now face to face with Noah.

Noah adjusted his glasses and looked straight into Grant's eyes, "Yeah?"

"You think you're some kind of hotshot, huh?" Grant tried to sound tough but failed miserably.

Noah looked at his friends and then back at Grant. He arched his eyebrows and chuckled softly. "And what makes you say that?"

Grant struggled to maintain his composure, "You think you can just break my girl's heart and get away with it?"

Noah's brow furrowed in confusion, "Um...who?"

Anger flickered in Grant's eyes, "Claire O'Connor. She went to high school with you, and you know damn well who she is!"

Noah thought about it momentarily, and then realization dawned on him, "Oh."

Without hesitation, Grant's fist shot forward, connecting with Noah's cheek. The lens of Noah's glasses shattered, piercing the skin of Grant's knuckles. Noah stumbled backward, crashing into one of his friends who hastily tried to steady him. Chaos erupted within seconds as the sound of shattering glass, and grunts filled the air.

"What the fuck?!" Noah exclaimed, catching the blood that trickled down his nose in his hand. 

Grant let out a sharp breath as the realization of the pain hit him, feeling warm blood seep through his fingers from the cuts on his fist.

But Noah fought back, his Navy training evident as he landed a solid punch to Grant's jaw, splitting his lip open.

Blood and alcohol mingled together as the two men continued to trade punches, each inflicting equal damage on the other and unaware of the chaos they had created.

Liebgott and Talbert fought their way through the crowd of both Paratroopers and Sailors.

"Grant! What the hell?" Talbert shouted, trying to intervene.

Liebgott followed suit, his face a mix of concern and amusement, "Goddamn it, Chuck, you really went through with it!"

---

I'm sorry this was so bad! 😭

Please take writing privileges away from me.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Can I ask for drunk Nesta flirting with Cassian in front of the ic and him getting all flustered but being secretly pleased about it???

Hell yeah you can! I love this idea! It wasn’t specified so I’m going modern here just because I’m not really sure where this could’ve happened in the canon timeline without a bunch of other factors impeding. Also I’m throwing in a dash of my fav jealous Cassian 😏

It wasn’t that Cassian didn’t want to be there. Well, no, actually that was exactly what it was. Cassian didn’t want to be there. He was exhausted and he hadn’t gotten to the gym that morning and he had a massive deadline that Rhys kept insisting they could push back but Cassian didn’t want to. He just wanted to go home and finish his report and maybe have a glass of whiskey to close off a truly awful week.

But Feyre’s art exhibit opened earlier that week and he hadn’t even gotten to see it yet and so it wasn’t like he could blow off her big party when he already felt like the world’s worst friend.

And he was completely lying to himself and everyone else. He didn’t want to be there because he didn’t want to watch Eris Vanserra’s slimy ass mill about the elegantly decorated, high ceilinged, natural light dripping, beautiful space, with his eyes glued to Nesta’s ass as if it was the art they were meant to be appreciating.

Did Cassian also appreciate every inch of her body like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo? Yeah but that was besides the point. And he had the respect to do it subtly.

“Remind me why he’s invited,” Cassian grumbled into his overpriced merlot. Because apparently only wine was classy enough for these fancy, classy, art events.

“He’s Lucien’s brother.” Azriel also didn’t look impressed by Eris’ uninvited hand on the small of Nesta’s back. Or the way he kept refilling her glass before she asked or was even done. “And he’s richer than Midas and spends a lot of that money on art.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “We have as much money as he does.”

“Yes but you know Feyre’s rule. No family purchases. She doesn’t want to be a success just because Rhys could buy and sell this entire gallery.” Azriel was stoic as usual. Betraying no opinion on the matter.

It was several hours of carefully constructed comments where Cassian pretended he knew anything about art and pretended his neck wasn’t getting increasingly hot under his collar as Eris kept glued to Nesta’s side.

Cassian had no right to be jealous. He knew that. He and Nesta weren’t anything. Casual flirting. Witty banter. Eternal, pining, unrequited love on his end that she didn’t even seem to notice or care about. So fine. Maybe Eris was her type. It wasn’t his place to interfere.

Except that she really needed a glass of water right now and-

Cassian’s hand darted out on instinct as Nesta walked past him, wobbling a little on her completely impractical shoes.

“Careful sweetheart.”

He braced for the hissed don’t call me that, but When he looked up Nesta was blinking slowly through a hazy wall of the wrong wine.

The wrong wine because Eris had been giving her a Nappa Cab Sauv all night when she preferred old world Syrah. Which was probably why she kept drinking it so quickly, looking for her opportunity to get what she really wanted.

“Cass,” she smiled. It was a little lopsided and definitely off kilter, but even through her wine brain he could see that she was playing at something. Nesta had never called him Cass in his life. “It’s so good to see you!” Her voice went up a full octave and she pressed her entire body against his as she hugged him.

The display turned a few heads in their direction. It was mostly just family at this point, and Eris who couldn’t learn how to take a fucking hint. Technically, he supposed, Eris was family. Nesta’s fucking brother in law. Was that how it worked? Was the brother of the person your sister married also your brother in law? Brother in law once removed?

Not important, moron. Drunk Nesta. Body. Wrapped in a tight sheath dress and clinging to him. Cassian closed his hands around her back and got lost for a minute.

Holding her against him like she was made to fit in his arms. Breathing in her scent like he could capture it in a bottle and spray it on his pillow every night before he went to bed.

Someone cleared their throat. Feminine. High pitched. Mor.

Nesta had already let go and was smirking at him a little. He dropped his hands immediately. “Um, yeah, always a pleasure.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Nesta’s grin was feline. She was definitely up to something. And normally he would make a stupid remark, probably something about how much more pleasurable the evening would be back at his apartment, except that she was drunk and his entire family was staring and Eris was still standing there.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” It seemed like the right thing to say. To offer. Feyre smiled a little, a silent thank you. Azriel was covering a laugh, Mor was watching them both with narrowed eyes like a hawk, and Rhys honestly couldn’t have cared less. Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe throw you into a pool,” Cassian joked stupidly.

“You should probably buy me dinner before offering to get me wet.” Someone dropped a glass. Cassian honestly thought it might have been him and he wouldn’t have noticed. Not in that moment. Not with Nesta looking at him through hooded eyes and talking about…

He could do this. His pants were not getting tight. Not at all. Because he wasn’t a damn teenager.

“I- um- do you-”

Nesta burst out laughing. It was a sound he’d never heard from her. She was usually all sultry under her breath snorts or ironic guffaws. Full, deep, angels singing, laughter was not usual for Nesta.

As evidenced by the fact the no one was even pretending not to be watching them anymore.

“I’ve got her.” Eris pushed himself back to Nesta’s side.

“Does he?” Nesta looked straight at Cassian, one eyebrow raised. “Because I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t have made it past glass two if your family wasn’t here.”

Azriel coughed. Amren cackled.

“You… do you want him to have you?” It came out wrong. The words. He meant did she want Eris to take her to get some water. Like he offered. He didn’t mean, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t…

“I want you to have me.” She was drunk. She was so drunk and it shouldn’t have been hot but fuck him it was. It wasn’t some sloppy college night out messed up drunk. It was a woman whose inhibitions had been soaked in wine just enough that every word out of her mouth was low and hot and honest.

“Find somewhere else to be, Vanserra.”

“Hey man what the fuck? We were talking-“

Cassian scoffed, snapping out of whatever flustered mess Nesta had put him in. “Anyone who gave her that much Cab Sauv doesn’t deserve to talk to her. Get lost.”

“I saw you eyeing the bottle,” Nesta laughed a little, swaying on her toes. Cassian moved his hands from a support on her bicep to a full arm around the waist support. Even if she did try to fall he could lift her with one arm easy. “Thought you might say something after…”

After the night they spent in her apartment with a bottle of her favourite Syrah only a week ago. It hadn’t been on purpose. Feyre and Elain and Azriel and Lucien were all supposed to be there. And they all conveniently cancelled only after he’d already showed up.

Which, judging by the barely contained grins on their faces, was even less of a coincidence than he thought. Busybodies.

“I’d offer you a glass of Syrah now, but I think what you need is a coffee.”

“Oh but then I’ll never sleep. And I do think I’m ready for bed.”

Sensing that he’d lost, Eris swore under his breath and stomped off.

“Let me take you home, Nes.” Cassian whispered into her hair.

“Hmm, your place or mine.”

“Yours,” he kissed her temple, pulling her legs out from under her and not even paying his family a backwards glance. “For a nightcap of 2 big glasses of water and a bottle of aspirin that I’m going to leave on your nightstand for the morning.”

“You don’t want to be there in the morning?”

Cassian groaned. “You said it yourself, Sweetheart. Dinner first.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down.” Nesta sighed, head lulling onto his shoulder.

“Actually go for dinner with me next week and I promise to never bring this night up again. And bribe our friends to do the same.”

“Deal,” Nesta said immediately.

An hour later after Cassian had supervised Nesta drinking her water he was about to leave her apartment when she yawned.

“Hey Cass,” she mumbled, half asleep.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You made a bad bargain. I would’ve gone out with you either way.”

Cassian chuckled, a low rumble. “I’m satisfied with the bargain I made.”

“Cheesy as hell.”

“You love it.”

Nesta laughed, “I am prepared to tolerate it at best.”

“Good enough for me.”

[ricesoupremacy]

he's very cool. yep, you learn every day. are you implying...i have tasty blood. ikr i would have bonded with it. blood contract of friendship, even.

well i played with him in my team. we weren't keeping score because it was timepass match but i can say he was definitely way better than me. i don't play volleyball i was just there lol. ofc i expected too much, no one could be tpq aiden and his smolder charm.

right answer is your first guess 🤡 i did what i never would have dreamed of doing- i broke a guy's nose. and i don't regret it one bit. HEY I MIGHT DO WEIRD SHIT BUT I WOULD NEVER EVER VANDALISE SCHOOL PROPERTY THAT'S CROSSING A LINE. I AM A LAW-ABIDING CITIZEN and i have a conscience, surprisingly. never cheated, never helped anyone cheat and i don't intend on doing so ever. cheating is ew. no comments. um. imagine lol. if that did happen it would be my thirsty ass guy friends now this...this is a good idea. maybe i will do that.

SO this is the most thrilling thing in my life and i'm gonna flex about it a lil bit. excuse me for that. BUT SEE this guy deserved it because he's an asshole. he's one of the new guys this year, and i have a class with him but we were like on amiable terms i think. he's the captain of the basketball school team and he's, ok he's good-looking enough i'll give him that, and he knows it, so he thinks he's some precious hotshot. but how is that my problem. by around august we realised he's a piece of shit. he started picking on this one dude in my class for no reason, and he thought he looked cool and intimidating or some shit. things got so bad (by that i mean physical bad) it got to the hm, she gives him a warning, he's banned from an interschool event. you'd think he's learnt his lesson but no. why? because he's a fucking moron. at this point we'd started texting on friendly terms. which is not great on my part, seeing the kind of person he is, but he was nice enough when he talked to me. i got to know about this almost-bullying thing later. but i didn't stop being friendly with him. why? because i'm a fucking moron, who thinks everyone can reform and there's good in everyone, because he's so conveniently two-faced to people he likes or at least pretends to like, and people he looks down on for whatever reason. he didn't trouble the other dude again but it's bad enough it happened.

he's toxic as hell, he doesn't give two shits about school, he has no respect for anyone as long as they have boobs and will get with him. i am not kidding when i say the entire grade dislikes him. that's something not everyone can accomplish. i cannot believe it took me so long to see how hard texting him was. it's like constantly walking on eggshells. you can't text too much (which i usually do when i'm excited lol) or he'll be annoyed. you can't text too little or he'll whine about how dry you are. but when you text just enough? he seenzones you, or replies with something intelligent like "meh". but if you seenzone him, all hell breaks loose; you're off his close friends list, you're unfollowed, you're removed from followers. five days later he comes back begging you to accept his follow request so we can kiss and make up again.

i thought, not everyone is the same. people have mood swings, people have their own problems, people need space. i can deal with all that, i'm a patient person. no one is truly a bad person at heart.

that was until our inter-house cricket match (which is not even a big deal because budget where 💀). we're in different houses and he's genuinely not even good at cricket, he thinks he can be sports captain even though he can't play for shit and his fragile masculinity's hurt that a girl got elected over him (oh, the shame). so when he struck the worst shot ever and i caught him out easily, he flew into a rage after the match. boys will be boys amirite. he literally blamed my fellow teammate (an actual stellar player) for injuring him, and when no one buys his shit (surprise surprise), he lashes out at me. how dare you get me out arya, you're not even a good player arya, you don't know shit about sports arya. we 'lmao'ed at his patheticness and left. his house won but he doesn't care about that, not when his own ego's been insulted.

but i don't care. if he wants to bitch about me, fine, i don't give a flying fuck. there are ten other people bitching about him, and i don't want to be one of them because i don't waste my time on people who have no value for others. as long as he doesn't fuck with me or my friends, life is good.

two months later i get suspended. the day started off well. i lost the toss in lunch break and had to go buy my friends stuff from the canteen (we do that regularly, i didn't have to pay for them they're just lazy to walk). i'm running their order in my head when i see X with this group of small kids. he's not the sort who gives gyaan to youngsters obviously, so something's definitely wrong, but it's not my problem. it's not my problem even when i see him shove one of the kids so hard he falls down hard some distance away, and X is laughing at him while the other kids scatter. it's not my problem but damn the lunch order, i walk up to him and tell him to fuck off, if he's started bullying 10 year-olds he's hit an all new low and needs to get a life. he tells me in turn to fuck off, it's not my problem. i know that, but who the hell does he think he is, throwing kids around like that. go study chemistry or something, dumbass. he says i'm being a try-hard hero, and informs me helpfully that this isn't some high school drama. i tell him the only one living in a high school drama is him and his sadistic ass. why was he harassing children anyway. by this time the smol boi was on his feet and staring at both of us with unmistakable fear. he probably thought i was going to beat him up too. poor kid. X points smol boi's lunch box. it's a pink tupperware dabba. i'm like ok, and? he says, look at this pussy with his little pink tiffin. you love pink, don't you, he asks smol boi. smol boi stares at him and manages to say no, i don't. i tell him to fuck off again, what business is it of his if smol boi likes pink or dislikes it. he says, you would think that, won't you, gay boy? i say yes, i would. i don't care if he says that like it's some insult. he says, you want this kid to become a loser gay wannabe just like you, huh? and pushes smol boi down again, so hard he starts bleeding. i cannot tell you what i felt in that moment, because i have never felt anything that strong before, i cannot tell you how i got close enough to hit that fucker on the face despite him being a 5'8 prick who eat-sleep-breathes the gym, i cannot tell you how i did not manage to damage my own wrist with my inexperienced form and ended up smashing his nose. i felt like i could destroy anything. i caught him by the collar and pushed him onto the ground, which made his shirt tear, and then i said something like how does it feel to be beaten by a loser gay wannabe, you piece of shit? apologise to the kid. and he says pfft you think i'm someone you can take down in one hit, what an idiot. he tried to punch me in the stomach but me being the intellectual i am, i ducked down or something and got a hit below my eye. god knows what would have happened if i had instead made some stupid mistake, like dodging.

anyway people were screaming by now and we were just throwing hands. it was kinda funny. then i did something weird idk what i did but i think i accidentally twisted his arm or something and then next thing i know he's kneeling down in absolute pain clutching his arm and i'm like haha, stupid and my dumb ass tries to quote lord of the rings but then i see teachers and i'm like shit, smol boi was still there. his leg was hurt and he could walk so i'm like QUICK I'M GONNA CARRY YOU TO THE INFIRMARY and he's like oH OK and i just run with him piggy-backing, and then before he goes in he tells me i was very cool and he asks me my name and i ask him his, and he says he's in fifth grade, and i tell him if that other guy ever came near him again he should just chuck his pink tupperware dabba at his stupid face. and there's nothing wrong with his dabba, its purpose is to hold food. the fuck does it matter if it's pink or black or multicoloured. you eat in whatever you want. then he goes in.

my amazing friends apparently had witnessed the whole fight thing because they overcame their laziness to see what was taking me so long, how touching. X and i were hauled to the hm's office and she takes one look at me and goes arya?? what happened to you? and she's shocked because the two of us have starkly contrasting reputations. so maybe that helped in my case because i got a suspension of lesser time and i went back to school a hero or something, it's cheesy but yeah it made me happy. witnesses all said X was the one who provoked it but i was the one who threw the first punch so i was responsible too, and that's understandable. but now he's hated school-wide so, good for him i guess. i got skinned at home but i don't regret it and i hope i won't do something like this again. i've had enough excitement.

yelo idk when you will see this but i hope you are doing good and school is going well for you :D

broooo hiiii half yearly exams ended just today so i was on an internet break for the past 2 weeks

i'm doing good, school is going fun. we had exams and now we have the batch trip coming up. i am so excited its just next week eeeee

how are you?? how is 11th grade going?

ALSO THE SLUG IS BACK YAS

[beelsnack]

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse (Part 2)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: argument, crying, a decent dose of awkward but it gets resolved!

Word count: 4.1k

Comment: This is the fourth time I’ve tried to post this--- Part 1 HERE!

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

Roman ran a hand through his hair at the message, checking the time at the top of the screen. It was late, far too late, so it was safe to assume that Logan had heard about the spat from Virgil. He should have been home by now. It was just… impossible to convince himself to actually leave the rehearsal studio. He had a younger acting class tomorrow and was perfecting his lesson plan- even though he already knew it was perfect, and his director had already approved it. Just, anything to keep him from going home.

He’d been a dick. Such was obvious; from the second his finger had hit send, he regretted approximately everything in his life that had led to this moment. That day had been particularly bad, overrun with rehearsals he was either taking part in or directing, and gearing up for tech week of a large production. Who knew trying to block a scene with a flurry of pre-teens could take so much out of you? Rinse and repeat the cycle with two more classes to teach back to back and an achingly long dance rehearsal, add in a desperate and fruitless search for a replacement lead in his upcoming directorial debut, and you’d have what Roman would categorize as a “shit show of a day”. 

All he wanted to do at the end of it was spend some time with his boyfriend, without having to talk about his day, so he’d suggested the most basic date his fried brain could conjur. Then his work desk was unceremoniously reacquainted with his forehead as he smacked it into the wood, letting out a groan that bordered on a yell. Luckily, minutes ago everyone had abandoned the theatre, and he’d been trusted with the keys to lock up from a stagehand. He just had a couple more things to do, and then he could drive home. 

Getting a reply of denial from Virgil was nothing new. In fact, he’d been warned in the transition from reluctant acquaintanceship to inevitable friendship, that he tended to veto ideas if they were sudden, or too daunting, or if he was just feeling shitty. It was something that Roman never considered a deal breaker, and he’d slowly come to much rather enjoy a night of cuddling and watching television than going out anyways. Call it ‘getting old’, call it ‘Virgil’s homebody ways creeping into his psyche’. So usually, getting his plans rejected was no big deal. 

Except for today, when he was well and past his limit of frustration, and things not going to plan. He’d typed out and sent the snarky reply far before he’d thought it out whatsoever, and ranted out complaints that hadn’t ever crossed his mind before, which he immediately regretted. In a moment of shame so great it caused physical nausea, he tossed his phone into one of his desk drawers and slammed it shut. 

It buzzed once, twice, and then went silent. 

Until, of course, it began to go berserk an indecipherable amount of time later, and Roman couldn’t ignore it. Seeing Logan’s text, along with about a million missed calls from him and Patton, broke the fragile sense of calm he’d tried to achieve while working. 

He didn’t want to go home and face his consequences. Childish, yes. Well deserved, also yes, but he was afraid of Virgil’s inevitable anger. If this led to a breakup, a fight that wasn’t recoverable, he’d never forgive himself. 

And now…

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

I can see you’ve read my text message.

-Logan

I’m at work. 

You’re inconceivably moronic. Get home. Now.

-Logan

Roman sighed heavily through his nose, clenching his jaw. He began typing out another snarky response- because apparently he never learned- when another text came through.

Virgil was in significant distress last I spoke to him and he has stopped answering me and Patton. Go. Home.

-Logan

Please. If not for my sake, then for Virgil’s.

-Logan

Fuck.

Roman barely had the sense to lock the doors of the building in his rush, throwing the spare key back in through the mail slot and booking it to his car. He sent some sort of confirmation that he was going and tossed the phone to his back seat. Virgil hated when he used it while driving.

It was only on the drive back, on unusually empty roads, did he realize it was well past nine. He hadn’t even noticed the time passing by.

Most of the lights in the apartment complex were still on when he pulled into the car park, but their window visible on this side showed only darkness. He wasn’t used to entering a dark apartment.

Their flat was silent, the living room only illuminated by the oven clock and the dim city lights from the balcony. He toed off his shoes as silently as he could, wincing when he kicked their shoe rack, and decided he’d risk turning on the light. When he finally found the switch and flicked it on, he couldn’t help his gasp. 

The room had once been a pristine display, he could tell. A white table cloth adorned their usually bare dining room table and a half burned candle stood as its centrepiece. He approached it in a daze, cautiously resting a hand on the plate of ravioli nearest to him. Cold. Long cold; the pasta was starting to get crusty. 

He picked up the two plates, intent on throwing out the food. It definitely wasn’t safe to eat anymore, and he didn’t feel like warding off an attack of ants in the morning. One of the towels hanging off the oven handle was drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, and it looked like there was some more spilled in the crack between the stove and the counter. That would be fun to clean. 

Both hands full, he opened the cupboard containing the garbage bin with a socked foot, and promptly froze. 

Part of him cringed at the clang the dropped plates made on the counter, but the louder part of him was just repeating a mantra of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ and it was considerably out-screaming the other. Hands now shaking, Roman picked up the small box from the sink edge, ignoring the dried, crunchy texture of more tomato sauce on the outside, and opened it. 

It took every ounce of strength for Roman not to collapse to his knees, guilt instantly crushing the air from his lungs, a thousand times heavier than it had been before. An elaborate dinner, a ring… there had been a plan. That’s why Virgil had rejected his offer to go out. 

And he’d been such a dick to him. 

Speaking of which, where was he?

Roman closed the box and set it back where it had been. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the most obvious place Virgil would be, so he padded over and creaked it open just a bit more. The light from the hallway cast a beam onto the bed, illuminating first a mess of hastily thrown clothes; his button up shirt he only used for fancy occasions on top of the pile. 

Virgil’s huddled form was easy to make out, curled away from the door, his only movement being the steady rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed. Figaro lifted his head from where he was settled in the crook of Virgil’s knees and gave Roman an indifferent mrow. 

He couldn’t get into bed with him. There was no scenario where that was the right move. It wasn’t the right time to talk about what had happened, not so late and when they were both riding high on emotions and tiredness, so accidentally waking Virgil was not the way to go. And even if he was sneaky enough to not wake him… a part of him just felt it was wrong. Not when he didn’t know Virgil’s stance on him at the moment.

Or his stance on the relationship.

Well, couch it was. He acknowledged the crumpled weighted blanket and sound blocking headphones- clear aftermath of a bad panic attack- with a quiet curse. Somehow that pit in his stomach got even bigger, making him nauseous as his shame took a physical form. 

He could only pray that they would come back from this. 

Roman’s sleep was fitful, to say the least. At best, he drifted into a state of half-consciousness, where his thoughts could be somewhat quieted down, but the discomfort of the couch and the heavy weight in his heart were still palpable. Inevitably, one of their neighbors would make a noise or the building would make a settling creak or a distant dog would bark, and the state would be broken, leaving Roman wide awake and wracked with guilt once more. He’d never noticed how loud the world was until he wanted nothing more than for the noise to stop. 

The sun was just peaking into the window when their bedroom door widened and Roman flew up, using the back of the couch to steady his sudden sitting position. When their eyes met from across the room, Virgil in his pajamas and face hidden in shadow, a tenseness settled over the room that neither had experienced in their relationship thus far. Virgil froze in the doorway, wavering slightly. It didn’t appear he wanted to be the one to break the silence. 

Roman stood slowly, as though not to spook him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Virgil whispered with a sniff, and even in that one word Roman could hear the scratchiness of his voice. “I just...uhm,” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to get some water. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. No… no worries.” 

Virgil looked down to his feet. “When did you come back?”

“I think just before ten.”

“‘Kay.”

For an all too long moment, both of them seemed to find interest in every part of the room that wasn’t the other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Roman looked towards the kitchen in his awkwardness did he process what Virgil had come out for. 

“I’ll, um…” He pointed weakly to the kitchen and finally convinced his feet to move, filling up a glass from the sink while making a conscious effort to not look at the dishes or wasted food from the evening before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted towards the box sitting next to the tap, and judging by Virgil’s sharp inhale, the look hadn’t been subtle. 

He took the glass back to the other, watching him take it with an uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

Virgil downed the glass in one go, his shaking hands almost causing him to spill. He barely had time to take a breath before Roman had zipped the empty glass back onto the counter.

“Do you want more?” He asked, already refilling the glass.

“No, I’m… it’s okay.” 

Roman placed the full glass on the counter quietly and the two were swallowed by heavy silence once again. The clock ticked impossibly loud as they stood, fidgeting, wanting this moment to be over but not wanting to be the one to start it. 

Virgil took a shuddering breath and wrung his hands together.

Roman stared resolutely at a single water drop making its way down the glass.

This was his fault. He’d started it. It seemed only right that he break the tension that almost suffocated him, so even as his mind screamed for him to shut up and every muscle in his body turned to liquid, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

That effectively stopped Roman in his tracks. All night, he’d crafted a collection of apologies, from eloquent monologues to stumbling pleas for forgiveness, but in not one of his countless scenarios had Virgil apologized. 

“I know… I know I can be a lot to handle, I know, I swear. And I was more outgoing when we first met, because I thought I had something to prove and it always exhausted me and I hated it but then we became… I don’t know, official? And closer and… and more comfortable and I didn’t think I had to do that anymore, I didn’t have to keep pushing myself so far!”

“V, stop-”

“The panic attacks and the anxiety and all that shit are a lot for other people and I know that but I didn’t know it was too much for you, I didn’t know you were tired of that and I can be better, I swear, I swear I can go back to how I was in the beginning, just please don’t leave.”

Virgil let out a choked sob and Roman couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, intent on holding his stupid, stupid boyfriend until he realized this was in no way his fault, only for Virgil to back up before he could do so.

“I’m- I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m sorry, I just, I love you, and I can be better, I can, just give me a chance, please-”

“Virgil, baby, come here.”

This time when he reached forward, Virgil allowed himself to be pulled into his boyfriend’s chest, basically collapsing against him as soon as Roman’s arms tightened around him. The dam broke moments later and Virgil finally let go of his own hands to grab the back of Roman’s shirt with a sense of urgency.

“Please don’t leave, I’m so sorry,” he begged raspily into Roman’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

Roman hung onto him almost as tightly in return, rocking them back and forth, finally allowing himself to cry. He shoved his face into Virgil’s hair, peppering small kisses and apologies to the crown of his head in between sobs. 

Virgil whined when Roman finally pulled away, but he didn’t go far, cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiping his tacky cheeks with his thumbs.

“Virgil, I cannot apologize enough for yesterday.”

“What are-” he hiccuped, “What are you talking about? It was my fault.”

“No, no, no no no no no,” Roman whispered, fighting that damn lump in his throat once more. “I had a spectacularly shitty day, and I took it out on you. I was leagues out of line. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m so, so unbelievably sorry.” 

As if the strings were cut on a marionette, all the tenseness dissolved from Virgil’s shoulders and he slumped forward, bumping his head weakly into Roman’s chest. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman clumsily led him to the couch and sat on the adjacent cushion, assuming that if Virgil wanted to talk, he’d want his own space. His assumption was incorrect, however, judging by how Virgil crossed the space almost instantly and buried himself in Roman’s side like a koala. He shifted them both until he was laying on his back, Virgil splayed across him .

“I thought you’d be more upset with me,” He muttered, freeing his hand to run it through Virgil’s hair. His fingers raked through his own tears trapped in the locks and he grimaced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” responded Virgil, accompanied by a shuddering breath, “I just need to know that you’re really here. And I need you.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the sun begin to peek through their window, until Virgil spoke again sardonically.

“If this is a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Roman snorted despite himself and felt Virgil’s responding half-laugh from where he was tucked against him.  

“I agree. I thought I’d fucked up for good this time.”

A disgruntled meow made Roman crane his neck over the couch, watching Figaro stretch languidly in their bedroom doorway. The cat sidled over to his food bowl and sat pointedly next to it. Feed me. 

“Later, Figaro,” Roman groaned, all too comfortable with Virgil as his blanket. A small part of him was worried that if he moved them at all, the spell would be broken, and they’d lose whatever peace they’d settled into. 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all, not by Figaro’s standards. The cat gave an upset mewl and trotted over to the couch, leaping up with grace and batting Virgil’s legs. It was that pettish action that made Roman realize that Virgil had turned stone still on his lap. Figaro changed his approach to headbutting at his arm in a clear attempt to get pets, but Virgil’s hand stayed still by their sides. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roman murmured. 

“That stuff you said, about me… not contributing to the relationship…” Virgil croaked, and Roman stilled,  “What can I do to-… to fix that? Because I wanna fix it.”

“Baby, no,” Roman whispered, that shame-nausea returning, “I-” He groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch behind him, “I was being an asshole. I didn’t mean that.”

Virgil didn’t budge, still deliberately ignoring Figaro’s futile begging for attention. “Then where did it come from?”

He took a breath deep enough that Virgil rose and fell with his chest, and Roman was struck with the profound urge to pull him closer and never let him go. But that would likely make him feel trapped, and that wasn’t productive. “You remember when I dragged you to that improv show my students put on last year?”

“You introduced me as your boyfriend and we found out the class had placed bets on whether you were gay or not. I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious.”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Maybe they just were trying not to stereotype!”

“Your phone case is a rainbow-”

“Anyways!” He interrupted, resuming his gentle threading through Virgil’s hair, who snorted but otherwise gave in to the affection. “Remember what happened after?”

“Mmhm.”

It had been a fantastic show, and Roman had been exceedingly proud of his little students, especially since it was his first time ever teaching a class. After the night, when the betting chaos had settled and everyone quickly adopted Virgil as theirs now, they’d pleaded to play a few more improv games before the theatre closed. Seeing as it was their last class, hence the performance in the first place, Roman had acquiesced. But neither of the men had expected for the gang of pre-teens to latch onto Virgil and beg him to play too, despite him having zero theatre experience. 

“Remember what they said?”

“They tried to pack all your lectures into five minutes of information.”

“I don’t lecture, I dazzle.” 

“They thought you were straight.” 

“Only some, and that’s not the point!”

Virgil finally lifted his head, pulling his hands up so he could lay his chin on top of them. He smiled weakly. “Then what is the point?”

“The most important rule of improv is to keep the scene going. No matter what nonsense you have to pull out, just never leave a scene flat.”

There was a quiet moment while the other processed that before, once again, that layer of hurt reappeared on his face. He pushed himself off Roman’s chest in preparation to get up. “So… you’re saying you saw that argument as another scene you had to keep up.”

“No, shit, that came out wrong,” Roman insisted, and Virgil paused suspiciously, “I’m saying, that in a moment of panic, I fell back on bullshitting my way through it! That’s literally what I do for a living!” 

The distrust gave way to resignment and Virgil chewed on his cheek, turning his attention to the window. He sat all the way up on Roman’s legs, leaning back on his shins. “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me right now?” He said. 

“Because,” Roman followed him up, careful not to move his legs and dislodge his boyfriend, “You know I like when the bed is made, and even though you hate making it, you always do when I’m out of the house before you.”

Virgil looked down at his thumb.

“Because you let me choose the music in the car.”

“... you don’t like loud music,” He muttered, picking at the skin around his cuticle.

“You adjust your work schedule to come to every single one of my shows.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but you hate working mornings. You let me rant about all my theatre stuff, even if you don’t get any of it.”

“I’m learning.” A faint smile was breaking through.

“You tell me when there’s spinach in my teeth, or my hair is messy, or if I’m acting like an asshole.”

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

Roman reciprocated the smile at that, taking Virgil’s hands in his own to stop the attack at his nail. “I’ve been watching you better yourself for years, even if it’s been really, really hard.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Virgil asked with a small blush, switching his fidgeting tactic to fiddling with Roman’s fingers. 

“Every time you do something that betters yourself, you help us, Virgil.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Virgil the time to move away if he wanted to, and rested their foreheads together. “Yesterday, I fucked up. Badly. You said you were anxious and I still acted like a dick. I kinda thought you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Virgil whispered, seemingly before he had a chance to process it, because his blush multiplied tenfold. Roman grinned. 

“Aw, is someone feeling sappy?”

“Shut up, jackass,” He retorted, bonking their heads together ever so gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” Roman said after their giggles and blushes had faded, “It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

In lieu of answering, Virgil closed the already scant distance between their lips, and despite Roman using all of his self control to not sigh into it, he found himself doing so anyways. All the tension bled out of his shoulders at once as Virgil pulled away, pressing one more peck to the tip of his nose, and then leaning back with a small smile. 

“So… that means we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank god,” Roman groaned, flopping back and dropping his arm over his eyes dramatically. He heard Virgil’s quiet snicker before he resumed his job as a blanket. Except this time, instead of nuzzling his head into Roman’s neck, he could feel the distinct edge of a chin digging into his sternum.

The hand lifted from his eyes to see Virgil staring at him, that goofy little smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I love you, idiot.”

Well, now they were wearing matching goofy little smirks. 

“I love you too.” 

That seemed to satiate him, because he gave a little nod and laid his head more comfortably on the other’s chest. He could have left the conversation there, content to just let them lay there in peace until the world fell away- or Figaro grew more insistent on being fed- but Roman just couldn’t banish the one persistent thought in the back of his mind. 

“Were you actually going to propose?” He blurted.

Virgil tensed for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows, desperately hoping he sounded casual, though his heart was pounding far too loudly to not be heard, “I would have said yes. If you did.”

“Oh?” Virgil lifted his head. “You’re blushing, Princey.” He could hear the smug grin.

“Nooo…” Roman whined. His arm draped once more over his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the redness, but he drew it away only moments later when Virgil didn’t retort. 

The man was staring at him with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement, huffing out a breath as he watched Roman’s eyes.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to propose,” He sighed, “It was supposed to be all perfect, and romantic, and stuff. And the surprise is ruined now.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Roman, continuing before Virgil could cut him off, “If it’s any consolation, I think a proposal in our pajamas, on the couch, would be very us.”

“You’re not in pajamas.”

“I slept in these clothes, they count as pajamas.”

Virgil snickered. Roman counted five breaths as the other’s face melted from a smile to anxiously knit brows, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked down at him. It took another three for him to speak.

 “So…uh... will you…?”

Roman’s face split into a grin, “Yes, Virgil. Obviously.” 

Virgil’s expression morphed to match his and he swooped down to kiss him again, though they barely could with how much they were smiling. They both devolved into giggles, happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s arms, until Virgil broke away with a gasp.

“Let me grab the ring!”

“Ring can wait,” Roman argued, tightening his grip around his waist to keep him in place, “I want cuddles.”

And so they did.

Taglist:

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[realisticjojoxreader]

Jotaro beats the shit out of your boss 🥺🥺🥺

sorry this took so long lol

jotaro x reader (?), probably between parts 3 and 4, 1.1k

"This guy bothering you?" asks Jotaro, eyes flashing. He looks about ready to kill a man, which works out for you, honestly, because you have a man in desperate need of a gruesome end.

Your boss smirks that awful smirk of his and says, "No, we're all good here."

"I wasn't talking to you," Jotaro says bluntly. "I was talking to this one." He gestures toward you, and you feel yourself blush ever so slightly. Truth be told, he's never given you the time of day before this, despite your best efforts. You're not even sure if he knows your name. It's nice to have him acknowledge your existence after weeks of you subtly making goo-goo eyes at him. "This guy bothering you?"

Uh oh, you think, watching as your boss's face starts to get red and splotchy like it does before he blows his lid. He's going to kill Jotaro.

Jotaro could probably defend himself, if it came down to it, but you would still prefer things didn't escalate. It would be nice to see your boss get his stupid face beat in, though. That might rule, actually. The more you think about it, the more you kind of want it to escalate, because Jotaro would almost definitely kick your boss's ass, and that would fucking shred.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" shrieks your boss, obnoxious and ear-piercing as ever. "Get the hell out of my restaurant!"

"This isn't a restaurant," Jotaro points out quite fairly, "it's a coffee shop. And no, I'm not leaving. I already paid. I just need my other drink. Leave your employee alone so I can get Jiji's nasty coffee and leave."

In your wisest move of the day, you say nothing, skirting around your boss and trying to finish Jotaro's order. Professional legend over here.

Your boss, though, won't let it go, because of course he won't. He's a fucking moron and you hate his guts. "Absolutely not! I want you out of here right this instant or I'm calling the police! You hear me?! The police!"

"For what? I haven't done anything wrong. I didn't even curse at you. You can't just take my money like that."

"Out, out, out!" howls your boss, so angry that he grabs a bottle of liquid vanilla flavoring and hurls it at Jotaro, who lets it hit him right in the chest. You wonder why he doesn't dodge, because you know he can. You've seen him react almost instantaneously before, most notably when you nearly spilled hot coffee on his lap—he moved so fast it was like he teleported. Why not get out of the way?

The answer is this: Jotaro is now allowed to snap. Having been hit with something, having been attacked, having been assaulted, legally speaking, he's not the one who escalated. Now it's self-defense. Now he's free to beat ass. "You wanna take this outside? Fine." And with that he leans forward, grabs your boss by the collar of his idiotic polo shirt, lifts the man over the counter, and drags him out the front door. The casual display of strength makes you a little hot under the collar.

You quickly finish Jotaro's second drink and grab both of them with your sweaty hands. As soon as they're safely cradled in a paper tray, you hurry outside under the guise of giving Jotaro his order, but you know full well you're really going to gleefully watch your boss get his ass kicked. It's gonna fucking rule.

Outside, Jotaro and your boss are standing across from one another, both doing weird poses that look worryingly unstable. You wonder if a freak gust of wind would be enough to knock one of them off balance—with the way your boss's knees are positioned, you're almost sure it would be. How is that even anatomically possible? And don't even get me started on Jotaro, who's leaning back like the goddamn Tower of Pisa and pointing like he's Phoenix fucking Wright. Are you an insane people magnet? You thought Jotaro was normal, for Christ's sake, but now he's just yelling in the street and doing some kind of elaborate LARPing.

When you came out here, you expected to see someone getting punched. You did not expect to see two grown men just stand and scream, flailing wildly as if they're dodging imaginary punches. Maybe you should go back in and empty the tip jar while your boss is otherwise occupied.

Then, it happens. "Fuck this," says Jotaro, before rearing back and punching your boss square in the face. Something cracks. The sound echoes.

Your boss howls with pain and you can't keep the grin off your face, glad to see the man who's treated you like shit for so long finally get what he deserves. You're not sure why Jotaro got involved at all, but you're so, so glad he did. ...Hopefully this won't have repercussions for you.

Crumbling into a broken heap on the ground, your boss says nothing more. He's not dead or anything, though, just injured and embarrassed.

Jotaro says his catchphrase and rolls his shoulders before walking over to you, one hand in his pocket. "Those mine?"

You nod, handing over the paper tray, face burning. You've never had someone stand up for you like that before. Standing there, looking up at Jotaro, you're overcome with the need to say something, anything, to express your gratitude. "Thank you," you say emphatically, though it doesn't feel like enough.

"Whatever," says Jotaro, not even looking at you. He takes the drink and turns on his heel to presumably walk away.

"Wait!" He stops. He turns. He looks at you, eyes narrowed. "Um. Seriously. I owe you one for standing up for me like that." Okay. Time to shoot your shot. The worst he can do is say no, right? You'll probably survive a rejection. "Can I make it up to you with coffee sometime? Or maybe dinner?"

He looks at you like you're the dumbest person alive. "You think I did that for you? I just wanted my stupid drinks."

"Oh, but I thought…"

"You thought wrong. I wanted my shitty drinks and your ultra-capitalist boss was getting in the way of that. If there was another barista there, I would've asked them to make it, since I'm sick of you making that nasty face at me, but you were the only one there."

So he did notice the goo-goo eyes. "But—"

"Yare yare daze." And with that, you feel yourself lifted off the ground, but Jotaro's not touching you. Before you can get even a single word out, you're flying through the air, landing with a splat in a nearby canal.

Wait, what the fuck?! There are no canals around here! There should be an Ulta here! Where did this canal come from?! How did you end up here, is Jotaro fucking telekinetic?! And WHAT IS THAT BITING YOUR ANKLE—?!

[darthkruge]

hey could you do a jess mariano x reader where the reader has dyslexia but loves to read. someone at school makes a comment about her being dumb and she gets insecure but jess is super reassuring to the reader about how intelligent she is. also they can either be already dating or have mutual crushes. whatever you think fits better. <3

Jess Mariano x Dyslexic!Reader ~ All of You

Summary: Someone at school insults the dyslexic reader and their boyfriend, Jess, provides reassurance. 

Warnings: Bullying, language, insecurities, I think that’s it? 

Words: 2.1k

A/N: Hey!! I’m so, so sorry this took me so long to get to! I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t mean to keep you in the ask box void. I really enjoyed writing this, so thank you for requesting! I decided to make them already be dating because that’s where my brain went hehe. I hope you like it :)

You walked to school hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, as always. Even though it took him about 15-20 minutes out of the way, Jess never missed walking with you. He hated the thought of you starting your day by yourself and never wanted you to feel forgotten about or lonely. Thus, the tradition began and it has stayed the way you start your day, everyday, for the last few months that you’ve been dating. 

Jess pulled you behind the science building, pressing his lips to yours. Your hands instinctively wove into his hair and his arms wound around your waist, pulling your bodies together. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away from your lips and gently moving his kisses down the side of your neck. You hummed in content before moving to meet his face again, once again pressing your lips to his. 

These stolen moments were what you lived for. You’d never felt too confident in yourself, at least as far as relationships went, and you weren’t used to this kind of affection. Even so, you loved every moment of it. Everything with Jess felt so natural. No matter what, you came first to him and he never failed to show it. 

You both pulled away and he softly kissed your forehead.

“See you after second period?”

“Of course” 

“Okay, love. Text me if you need me. Or if you’re bored. Or if you miss me”

“Oh, yes! That Jess Mariano charm. I’m not sure how I’ll endure two classes without it!”

“I’m sure it’ll prove quite e difficult,” Jess said, laughing. The bell rang and he gave you one last smile before you parted. 

You walked into your English class with a smile on your face, giddy after the experience with him. He made you feel alive. It was the kind of feeling you didn’t know you needed, but once you felt it you couldn’t imagine losing it. 

You sat down in your seat, waiting for the teacher to start class. 

“Okay, everyone. Today we’re just going to be doing some silent reading for the first half of class and then I’ll put you in small groups to work on a new project”

Fuck. Group projects were the fucking worst. Unless you got one of your friends, people were normally assholes and impossible to work with. 

Even though you were upset with the new development, you were excited to have time to read. You pulled out your copy of The Great Gatsby that Jess had lent you and picked up where you last left off. Because you read so much and generally did well or at least half-decent in school, people never assumed you had dyslexia. Lots of people had this false narrative that if you have dyslexia, you must hate reading. It was something you were used to, the stupid comments and assumptions. You tried to not let it get to you but you sometimes felt frustrated. You’d run into loads of ignorant people in your life and while you weren’t ashamed to have dyslexia, you hated having to explain it to every new teacher, every new friend in your life. You never knew how’d they’d react.

Even so, reading was one of your greatest joys in life. Losing yourself in the work, in the story, it was enthralling. You loved to find characters that you connected with. Their emotions were palpable and made you feel validated and less alone. Reading was one of the main things that brought you and Jess together. He knew you had dyslexia and, thankfully, never treated you like you were any less. You were afraid he would break up with you once you told him, but, of course, he didn’t. You were still you, and that’s all he cared about. 

He loved trading books with you and hearing your thoughts on them. In doing so, he felt the two of you were brought closer together. Discussing literature was an almost intimate experience in your relationship. Learning which characters and themes resonated with a person was truly illuminating about their personality and mind. Right now, as you read Gatsby, Jess was reading Pride and Prejudice. You loved Jane Austen, as did Jess, and you completely enjoyed discussing her work. 

After a few moments lost in thought, your teacher’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Alright! Okay so for the group project you will be analyzing the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. Please read it together today and discuss what you think the most pertinent theme is. I’ve already assigned the groups and I’ll display them on the board right now.”

Your teacher stepped back and turned on the projector so you could see the groups. Scanning for your name, you internally groaned when you saw who you were with. Sarah, Justin, and Alex. They were all close and their friend group didn’t exactly have the best reputation. You grabbed your bag, walked over to them, and sat down.

“So, y’all just wanna read it? Then just talk about it, I guess. We’re looking for themes, right?” Sarah asked.

Everyone nodded, opening up the copies of the short story placed on your desks. You jumped in and immediately felt yourself pulled into the writing. After a few minutes, your eyes glued to the story, you heard the rest of your group closing their packets. 

“Alright, everyone done?” Justin asked.

“Yeah, you?” Alex said

Sarah nodded in agreement.

You, on the other hand, felt your cheeks flush. You were only about 70% through the story. “Sorry, I just need a bit more time, is that okay?”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Just hurry up,” Sarah groaned. 

Your face burning, you went back to the reading. It wasn’t like you weren’t trying, you were! They just wouldn’t understand it. You couldn’t count the amount of times people had told you to just “focus more”. It made your blood boil, honestly. It was so dismissive and you couldn't believe people still thought that way. You always focused and it wasn’t your fault, and, yet, morons like these three persisted. After a few more minutes, you heard Alex again.

“Come on! You can’t possibly still be reading?”

“I’m sorry, just-” You sighed, running your hands through your hair. “Please, just a few more minutes?”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid. No wonder no one wants to work with you. All you do is hold people up, you’re a goddamn idiot” Alex said.

Your eyes burned and unshed tears started to push their way up but you fought them down. You wouldn’t let yourself cry in front of them. They didn’t deserve to see how they’d affected you. 

Finally, the bell went off and you were able to leave. Your group glared at you and you realized you  hadn’t discussed the themes. 

“It’s, um, the story’s about the juxtaposition of peace and violence. Even though the people are in a calm, controlled setting, they resort to violence every year. It’s an outdated tradition they keep up and, thus, it highlights the difference between their actions and how they want to be perceived.” You said quickly, voice wavering. 

Your group scoffed before walking off. That didn’t bother you too much. You knew your analysis was accurate and probably far better than anything they could have come up with, even if they’d spent the last 15 minutes of class discussing it. Despite this, you still felt deflated. The shit they’d said, the way they’d treated you? You couldn’t deny it, it got to you. 

You walked over to your locker and put your stuff away. After that, you decided you were just going to go home. You could call the school later and say you were feeling sick or something. Honestly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were just so drained, you needed to get away from this place and the people in it.

However, you didn’t want Jess to worry. You sent him a quick text saying you weren’t feeling well and put on your headphones before walking out of the school.

What you didn’t expect was Jess to come flying out of nowhere, appearing by your side as if you’d summoned him.

“Jess! What are you doing? Don’t you have class!”

He shrugged. “You weren’t feeling well. Did you honestly expect I’d leave you by yourself? And, seriously, Y/N, you know I hate this place. You’re the only thing that makes it bearable so if you  wouldn’t be here, why should I?”

You nodded and kept walking forward. Jess looked at you quizzically, trying to decode your dejected state. He kept quiet, knowing not to push you to talk. He trusted you’d come to him when you were ready. Therefore, he simply followed you until you made it off campus, where you turned into a random alley and suddenly stopped walking.

Jess caught himself, almost running right into you. You suddenly turned around, dropped your bag, and bolted right into his chest. He was caught off guard but instinctively brought his arms around you, trying to comfort you. He noticed you were crying, your broken sobs getting muffled in his shirt. He soothingly rubbed his arms up and down your back, desperately trying to give you solace. After you finally quieted down, Jess gently and slowly pulled you back.

His hands gripped your shoulders as he studied your face, your sad gaze meeting his. “What happened?”

“Stupid English, that’s all”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t shut me out. What happened?” He said, his tone kind.

“I-” You trailed off, trying to keep your composure. “Some kids just said some shit. I was just reading slower than them and they said some shit. It’s not a big deal, I just- it got to me, okay?”

“Who?” Jess said, firmly this time.

“Jess-”

“Who, Y/N?”

“Alex, Justin, and Sarah.” 

Jess groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Fuck them, Y/N. They’re fucking ridiculous and they don’t know anything about you”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m so goddamn frustrated! Because, like, it did get to me. Jess- Jess, they’re right. I felt like an idiot today, I felt stupid. And I hate feeling that way!” Hot tears smarmed in your eyes, the frustration and anger bringing them out. 

Jess’s gaze softened. As livid as he felt toward the three of them, he knew that’s not what you needed right now. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Love, take a breath. I’ve got you, okay?” 

You nodded, your breathing shaky from the stress of the day. 

“I’m sorry that happened today. Listen to me, Y/N. You’re so smart. You’re smarter than I am, hell, you’re smarter than anyone at that school! They’ve got nothing on you!”

You looked at him and smiled at his words but shook your head. “You don’t need to do that, Jess”

“Yes, I do. We promised we’d be honest in our relationship, right? Well, that’s all I’m doing. Seriously, Y/N, who else at that school could debate the themes in literature with me like you? Who could discuss the importance of accurate representation in books with me? Who could talk to me about just how influential YA books are and why they should be taken seriously-?”

“They are and they should!” You cut in.

Jess laughs, nodding in agreement. “Exactly!! You’re amazing, Y/N. And I swear those fuckheads are gonna get what’s coming to them”

“Jess-” You warn.

“Okay, okay!” He laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “They just- they messed with you and made you upset and I fucking hate that”

“I hated it too. I hate doubting myself because of my dyslexia. I feel so shit about myself when I get in that headspace and I start spiraling and it gets out of control so fast.” 

“I know. It’s not your fault when those spirals happen. And I know you know this, but I’m just gonna remind you: you’re not any less because you’re dyslexic. It doesn’t make you stupid or anything. It’s a part of you and I love you, all of you”

Your heart swelled at his words. Everyone thought Jess wasn’t good expressing his emotions but you knew the truth. He was quite eloquent when he wanted to be, he just sometimes had trouble with vulnerability. You didn’t blame him for it, with his past it made perfect sense. But when you needed that reassurement, that compassion, you could always count on him for it. 

He moved to place a kiss on your forehead before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“Okay” You smiled up at him and kissed him once more before tucking your head into his shoulder. He pulled you closer and you grabbed his free hand with yours as you continued to walk through the Stars Hollow streets together.

[hyperfixationtimego]

Also I’m so sorry if I ever hyperfixate or brainrot too hard I’m just

Brain is

Brrting with non despair aus where taka is happy and Leon and Sayaka are like

The Frenemies Trope

The Pettiest People Ever Known To Hope’s Peak

literally Punk vs Prep

Surf & Turf— WAIT WHAT IF SURF N TURF AU AND LIKE YOUVE ALREADY GOT ONE SIDE FIGURED OUT BC CRAZY DIAMONDS oh that’s too many thoughts I’m so sorry lmao

OH MY GOD I WOULD DIE FOR YOU PLEASE DON’T WORRY ABOUT HYPERFIXATING TOO HARD I PROMISE IT’S IMPOSSIBLE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH???

you 🤝 me

fun danganronpa au brainrot 😌

Yes!!!! Happy taka!!!!! Happy taka happy taka happy taka!!! Sometimes being the hall monitor is difficult but you know what??? He has friends and classmates who love and understand him that he can talk to when he needs it!!!!! Everything is okay and despair does not exist it’s fine!!

aLSO UM YES?? YES YEAH EXCUSE ME PLEASE I FUCKING LOVE THAT???? GOD SOME HBDBSBD SOME GODDAMN MF TEEN BEACH MOVIE SHIT UP IN HERE SHSNSBDBSBDB

sssooo many,,,,,,,starcrossed lover ships,,,,,I’m crying??? hdvsbdvvsvd like......idk man just? sorry idk if u like these ships I’m just rambling but 👉👈ishimondo I feel is an obvious one and I’m 🥺🥺🥺 because OH?? I love them that’s SO VALID and just. u know what?? makuwata too okay we’re going there

Mondo, after seeing taka shirtless and surfing and generally being a cutie: ......I might got a crush on a surfer

Leon: are you a fucking moron-

—

Leon, after having accidentally bumped into Makoto and talking to him for .05 seconds: ....f u c k

And there are a bunch more too but I wanna talk abt friendship dynamics within the groups for a sec because OH????

like taka and chihiro are surfer friends and chihiro is really the only person taka feels he can talk to about his feelings because she’s kinda??? The only one who knows him well enough??? and I think that’s pog (it’s sad but it gets better so dw dw dw he gets happy ending because of course he does he deserves it)

Makoto and Komaru are also surf, but Makoto doesn’t rlly surf so much as hang out and chill at the beach and cheer his lil sis on while she hangs ten on some bangin waves (because fuck yeah we love Komaru). He thinks the rivalry is kinda stupid highkey hsbsbsbsbdbd and he and Sayaka are best friends

Mukuro USED to be a biker, but has since switched over to the beach because there are so many pretty girls on that side and she just thinks they’re neat, but internally she misses being a biker and she’ll always be a turf at heart 😔 (which a few ppl are wary of - that’s another reason she misses being a biker; because she doesn’t have as many friends as she used to)

Junko......is not on either side :) she’s employed as a lifeguard (HORRIBLE IDEA) and instigates conflict between the groups whenever she can. she just thinks it’s fun :)

KAZUICHI IS OBV THE BIKERS’ MECHANIC AND IDK DUDE HE’S JUST PRETTY RAD Y’KNOW? Except a bunch of people don’t REALIZE he’s a biker because he CAN’T RIDE HIS OWN GODDAMN MOTORCYCLES AND STILL HAS BRIGHT PINK HAIR HANSBDSNBDDB

OH ALSO?? SORRY SORRY I KNOW I KEEP GETTING SIDETRACKED WITH SHIPS BUT I JUST THINK IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY IF HE AND GUNDHAM STARTED SEEING EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY MISTOOK THE OTHER AS BEING PART OF THEIR OWN GANG HSNSBSNSBDDB

Gundham: I-....you’re a biker? Why have I never seen you with them , then??

Kazuichi, crying: i hAVE MOTION SICKNESS-

he has to walk everywhere and I think that’s valid 😌 (also I’m not rlly a big bubblegum rock shipper but I did just get a vision of Leon offering to give Kaz a ride on his motorcycle, slow enough that Kaz’ll be okay, but also definitely quicker than if he were to travel on foot and god.....smh 👀👀)

Celeste pays for a lot of shit for the bikers and nobody??? really knows why??? Mondo asks her once and she’s just “because....I find you quite entertaining.” and leaves it at that and everyone’s just ???? bitch okay???? (people offer to give her rides on their bikes and the expression she gives them always looks as though they just spit in her face and called it a compliment)

And also Leon and Sayaka going from enemies to frenemies because they’re both close with Makoto and both are really prideful in their side’s status hsbsbsbsb like Sayaka is like “koto I love you but you are dating a DIRTY BIKER” and Leon being like -m- 🔪

I have more but I’ll stop here bsbsbsbd I’m rlly sorry if this was too specific with ships and stuff I just got excited hsnsbsbdbdb

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Two

Words: 4.3K

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, violence, drug abuse, domestic abuse

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Vivian strikes again. 

My leg shakes with each tap of my foot as I impatiently wait for her to come through that door. I've been waiting for nearly forty-five minutes. 

Maybe I scared her off with pitching a fit over her not telling me about her miscarriages. But I had a good reason to be upset. Addict or not, I fucking deserved to know what the hell was going on.

"Where's your wife?" Amber asks me, glancing at her watch. 

"Hiding more kids from me, probably." I mumble and she raises her brows, staring at me for a moment. 

"While we wait for her, can you do me a favor?" She asks and I shrug. "Take a few minutes to try to imagine what having kids during the last four years would have been like with your drug addiction. Because you would still have a drug addiction--babies wouldn't have changed that." She points out. "Honestly," she adds. "Close your eyes, and take some breaths, and just use your imagination as to what having children during these last few years would have done to you, and to your wife.

I take a breath and close my eyes, deciding it probably couldn't hurt to try to wrap my head around being a dad right now, especially with as many as she lost...

1984

...I feel Viv's weight shift from me, her eyes closed, a little hum comes from her when she turns her back to me but still keeps close, her feet tangled with mine, her lions mane of hair still spread out over my pillow as well as hers. Despite being half asleep, myself, I tighten my arms hold just under her ribs and pull her to me before my hand slides over her five-month pregnant stomach. 

I lull back to sleep, before I'm woken up merely minutes later by the sound of the baby crying and Vivian pulling herself away from me, putting her robe on to cover her naked body. 

She sighs under her breath, mumbling something, and I sit up. 

"I can go--"

"--No, I got it." She says, dismissively.

"Vivian, are you still pissed at me?" I ask. 

"You ditched me on our anniversary and stayed out all night smoking smack and partying with your moron friends."

"I offered for you to come out with us." I remind her.

"I'm pregnant and we have a daughter here, Nikki. One of us needs to remember that." She adds before stomping out. 

I roll my jaw and feel a spiteful twinge in my mind. 

Perhaps spiteful, perhaps wanting to chase away the guilt of ditching her last night…

I end up in the bathroom, chasing the dragon, curled under my high while hearing Vivian softly sing hymnals to the six-month old…

I assume she knows exactly where I'm at once she's done, because I hear her walk back to our bedroom and, when she usually comes to find me so she's not by herself, she doesn't come looking for me. 

1986

"...No, you idiot, not that…" I say to myself, rubbing my forehead, scribbling out the line of lyrics I've been fighting to get out. 

The door of mine and Viv's bedroom is soon bursting at the hinges, allowing me to fully hear Pierce crying while Frannie and Johnny come rushing into the room, squealing. 

"Hey, hey, hey!" I stop them before they can crawl under the bed. "What's goin' on?" I ask them, slowly hiding the Jack bottle in my bass case.

I spent last night freebasing and I'm still trying to coax myself down. 

Frannie looks at me with sharp green eyes, her brown hair knotty looking from wallowing on the living room carpet earlier...Johnny, brown eyes and red hair, just puts his attention on the pissed off Vivian that's stalking her way in here with the baby. 

"Um," Frannie starts, trying to think up her excuse. 

"Francesca and Johnathan tried to tote Pierce off again." Vivian states, eyeing the two toddlers with daggers, and they slowly sink down to try to use me as a human shield. 

"He's a new baby, Viv, they don't mean any harm. They just--"

"--Okay, well maybe if you put the bass down and actually come in here and help me out, you can supervise them while they 'hold' him, since I'm trying to start on dinner." She states. 

I glance at the kids and then at her…

"Or you can stare at me like an idiot, too." She mumbles, going to shut the door as she says, "You have no issue knocking me up but won't help me with them once they're out."

 I roll my jaw and grab my bottle of Jack, putting my bass back. 

What the fuck? 

If it wasn't for me writing songs, the band wouldn't have new material, which would mean no new album, which would mean no money--not enough to support her and three fuckings kids, anyway, so she should be thanking me for still wanting to provide for my fucking family. Because anybody else with three kids in two years would be putting a bullet through their skull. 

"C'mon, guys," I say to Frannie and Johnny, and they follow me out, Frannie reaching up to grab my hand. 

I put old cartoons on the TV while Viv puts Pierce down to sleep once he's drifted off. 

On her way out of the nursery, I'm stopping her in the hallway, my hand grasping her arm in a tight hold, roughly tugging her into the guest bathroom, cracking the door. 

I've got her against the counter, hand around her throat, gasping little breaths pushing past her lips for a moment as I say, "if you ever talk to me like that in front of my fucking kids again, I'll give you plenty to bitch about." I promise her, lowly, and she just looks up at me and nods. 

"Now turn around." I say next and she glances at the door. 

"Nikki, we don't have tim--"

"--They're watching TV. Turn around." I repeat and she grins a little, licking her lips and turns to face the mirror. 

I'm unzipping my pants, yanking her shorts down and pushing her panties to the side before grabbing a fist full of her hair and sliding it in, tilting my head back and grinning as she makes little whimpers in an attempt to keep from being loud. 

We've mastered the art of 'a good time in a short time,' and once we've both had our release, I'm zipping my pants back up, and she's still bent over the sink, hands white knuckling the edge of the counter, hair in her face, bite marks on her shoulders, cum down her shaking legs, trying to catch her breath.

I kiss the place between her shoulder blades, the back of her neck, her hair, my hand getting her hair from her face to look at her in the mirror.

She's looking at me with a little smile, right before, "I'm pregnant again," comes out and shatters my post-orgasm buzz. 

My knuckles sting as blood rolls down my fist, glass falling onto the counter, sink, and floor, when I drive my fist past her and into the mirror. 

She just hangs her head and I'm getting out, feeling the walls of the bathroom caving in on me. 

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Frannie asks as I grab my keys and my jacket. 

"Nothing, Frannie. Daddy's going out, alright?" I tell her. "When mommy gets in here give her a big hug." I add, seeing Johnny's too enthralled with Charlie Brown to notice I'm even leaving. 

I kiss her head and I'm out the door before Vivian gets out of the bathroom. 

I swear the only thing keeping us together is the fact that when divorce is an unspoken thought for either of us, she gets pregnant. 

I'm twenty-seven years old and I have a two year old, a one year old, a two month old, and now she's fucking knocked up again?!

How the hell is that even possible? Don't chicks need like six months for their bodies to reset after popping kids out or something? Jesus I married a PEZ dispenser with a never ending supply of eggs. 

By the time I get to where I'm going, I already regret it. 

Incense, crack fumes and perfume suffocate me as soon as she opens the door in her bra and panties. 

Not necessarily in a sexy way--more so in a higher than a kite and disheveled type of way. 

Which is perfectly fine with me because I don't need 'sexy' right now. I just need to get outta my head. 

Despite that, though, clothes come off, we end up on the living room floor, and instead of smoking a cigarette once we're finished, we opt for more erasure. 

"She's pregnant again." I confess to Tansy  out of nowhere after breathing out some smoke, my mind getting pushed aside, the crawling of my skin starting to settle. 

Blue eyes look at me as I hand it over before her greedy hands snatch it. 

"What?" She asks me. 

"Vivian's pregnant." I repeat. 

"I am, too." She says it so seriously that I look at her for a second, before seeing the very corner of her lips tug for a millisecond. 

"You're bullshitting me?" 

"I'm bullshitting you." She says, giggling, and 

I start ranting about it, my words getting more and more jumbled and lost the more hits of the pipe I take, until I'm not even worried about Vivian due to the paranoia that ensues. 

I get home at 5:00a.m….the day after the next. How low do I have to be to continuously go her best friend and my own moronic self pity? I don't know. 

I shut the door to the house and put my shit down, nearly tripping when I try to take my boots off. 

I'm on Halcions and Jack, and I think they're starting to kick in because I'm fucking exhausted. 

I glance at the living room scattered with toys and rub my face. 

I get it: "Mötley Crüe, don't give a fuck, fuck precautions, fuck all of it," but come on, man.

 How the hell could you be so fucking reckless?

I walk into our room, the lamp on Viv's night side table on while she's got one long leg out of the covers, laying on her stomach, arms under her pillow, the covers falling just enough to cover the tops of her thighs and her ass, her back and the side of her chest peeking out, exposed. 

She looks fucking beautiful.

Oh, yeah, that's how the hell I could be so reckless. 

I go rinse off in the shower for a second to try to wash away Tans and the drugs...maybe even guilt….

When I'm done, I peek out of the bathroom to see that she's still asleep, and I turn off her lamp and crawl into bed, closing my eyes for a moment. 

I feel her move closer to me before her lips are pressing to my cheek, hands running over my chest gently before she lays down, throws her leg over my stomach, and rests her cheek on my chest. 

"Are you still mad at me?" She questions softly, and I let out a breath.

"I'm mad at myself, Viv." I mumble. 

"Oh." She replies quietly. "I would get on birth control but it wouldn't react well with my Nardil."

"You mean the Nardil you aren't taking anyway?" 

She's silent. 

"Honestly at a point where I don't even want to have sex anymore because you're gonna end up getting pregnant." I add, gruffly. 

"Oh, come on, Nikki." She scoffs, not believing me. 

"I'm serious, Vivian. I'm tired of being a fucking baby mill." 

"Oh you're the baby mill? You just get your rocks off and I'm the one carrying the thing for nine months but you're the victim here?" 

She sits up and glares at me. 

"Yes! I am!" I argue. "You have this weird thing with cum that I've always thought was hot but now I'm starting to realize you're just trying to boulder me down." 

"Nikki, you've made it very clear that marriage and babies aren't bouldering you down. You still go out and party and do your drugs and your day drinking--you were just gone for over a day...so I don't want to hear, 'you're bouldering me down,' because I'm not. If you wanna leave, then leave." She snaps.

I roll my eyes and she goes back to her side of the bed and turns away from me, before she snatches all the covers away from me. 

I'm too tired for it so I just pass out. 

1987 

"Nikki!" Doc is banging away at my door, making me snarl to myself before capping my needle and hiding it under my pillow. 

"What?!" I bark out, going to the door. 

I swing it open, naked, aside from stained underwear, to see Vivian and my whole litter of kids.

"S-Surpise!" Viv tries to keep her tone light and cheery for the five kids around her, our brand new girls in her arms.  

I don't know how to react except to shut the door in their faces and angrily get my shit together. 

I'm out of the shower and dressed in the next hour, taking the smallest hit from the needle I hid, just as a maintenance dose, before I'm heading to Doc's room--where I'm assuming he took them when they realized I wasn't coming back out. 

I knock on the door and Viv opens it, looking up at me. 

"Suprise!" I mimic how she greeted me earlier, and she scowls at me and goes to slam the door in my face, but I'm stopping it with my hand and shoving it open. 

"Daddy!" Frannie, Johnny, and Pierce come running to me and I'm getting down and letting them attack me, wrapping my arms around them. Pierce is nearly two, now, and he's nearly as tall as Frannie. 

Dannie is walking cautiously to me, smiling at me and I meet him halfway and pick him up, kissing his cheek as I go over to the little babies Doc's supervising, one a replica of me, the other of Viv…

I lean down and kiss both of them, making them smile and kick their feet, excitedly. 

I wasn't there with them when they were born. 

I go over to Vivian, who's got her arms crossed, her jaw clenched.  

"Does Daddy get a kiss from Mommy, too?" I ask. 

"Daddy doesn't have to fuss at mommy for having more babies anytime soon because daddy isn't gonna get to be in the same bed as mommy for a long time." She replies. 

"Mommy seems to forget that the last three babies weren't even made in a bed." I reply. 

"Do you guys wanna few minutes alone? I can get Fred, Emi and Donna down here to help me." Doc offers and I look at him. 

"That's out of character and nice of you." I state suspiciously. 

"Despite you being an asshole, your kids aren't." He shrugs and I roll my eyes. 

I kiss all of them bye for a couple hours, and put Dannie down before tugging at Viv's hand once Fred and the girls get here...I see Donna and feel guilty…one of the chicks I cheated on my wife with is taking care of our kids…

When we get to a new room--mines so out of wack I don't want Viv to pass out--we do what we do best and in the aftermath, small talk in between breaks of making out, Vivian drops the ball. 

"I know you've been seeing her." She tells me out of nowhere when my lips press to her neck, quietly. 

My body tenses up. 

"What?" I sit up and she does, too. 

"There's no need to be shocked that I found out--we both know you wanted me to find out. Why the hell else would you leave letters you two write back and forth with each other, out in our closet where you know I'd find them?"

I just look at her. 

"You and Tansy, Nikki." She states, tears in her eyes. "Why the hell have you done this to me, Nikki? She's my best friend?" 

Is she serious? 

I get out of bed and pull my pants on, ignoring her. 

"I'm not shocked, you know, I always knew you'd be a deadbeat husband and a deadbeat dad, just like your father." 

I start clapping slowly, really appreciating her performance.

"Bravo, Vivian, really, you should get a fucking award for those tears." I state, fed up. "It's gotta be theatrics because what sense would it make for you to be genuinely upset I've been hooking up with Tansy, when you and Robbin have been seeing each other for two fucking years, now?!" 

Her eyes widen, she looks like a deer in headlights...which just confirms it all the more to me. 

"How fucked up do you have to be to cheat on your husband with his fucking brother, while pregnant with his fucking kid?" I ask and she takes heavy breaths, obviously trying to get her temper under control. "Not to mention that I'm starting to question if Dannie is even mine being as he looks nothing like me." 

She's slapping the piss out of me, tears streaming down her face. 

I rub at the stinging hot skin of my cheek and roll my jaw, staring at her a few seconds, before shoving her back to the bed, grabbing her shoulders, getting in her face while shouting, "you stupid fucking bitch, I fucking hate, you ruined my fucking life!" 

She's sobbing now, her head turned, mascara staining her cheeks as I push myself off of her and trudge to the door. 

"Cheating on me for two goddamn years, you fucking whore, who the hell do you think you are?! I can have kids with anybody, I can have anybody I want, but I fucking chose you and this is how you repay me?! Fuck you! There's a million fucking yous out there!" I throw a bottle at her and it misses by a couple inches and she sits up, trying to stand up as I open the door. 

"I'm getting my fucking kids away from you, you fucking crazy cunt!" I call and she's rushing out, wearing my t-shirt to cover herself up, grabbing my hand and yanking me to a halt before I can start to Doc's room. 

"You're not touching my kids, Nikki, I swear to God I'll fucking kill you, don't touch my fucking kids! You're fucking stoned!" She threatens me and I turn. 

"Oh, you'll kill me?!" I bow up at her and she punches me, her ring cutting my cheek, before she's hitting me again. 

She goes for a third time but I block her and shove her down, kicking her as hard as I can in the ribs, knocking the breath out of her. 

"Don't fucking touch me, you fucking slut." I smear the blood from my cheek, banging on Doc's door as she crawls a few feet before managing to pull herself up, resting against the wall, coming towards me. 

The door opens and I see Emi with Pierce in her arms. 

I don't say a word to her, I just grab him and smile at him, bouncing him a little, as I say, "Frannie, John, c'mon!" 

Of course they come, not realizing what's happening. 

Until Vivian's trying to pry Pierce from my hands. 

"Let go of my baby!" She screams at me, trying to bat me away from him while he starts whining. 

She hits me with her closed fist in my ear and I lose it, punching her so hard she hits the ground, Frannie and John immediately start crying upon seeing their mother bloody and dismayed.

The door opens more to reveal Doc as Emi looks at me, horrified, pulling John and Frannie back inside before Doc's snatching Pierce from me. 

"What the hell is going on?!" Doc shouts as guests peek their heads out of their doors. 

It's as if my demons give me the reins back and split, leaving me to look down at my beat up wife, crying, hearing my traumatized kids crying out behind the door. 

I just stumble back, my back hitting the wall before I'm sliding down it to the floor, staring off as Doc continues to yell at me...

...I blink, being pulled back to reality, staring down at the floor of Amber's office.

I'm not sure if we had kids by then, if Viv would have stayed or left. I'm not sure why I imagined I would've been with Tansy and not Vanity, why she would have had an affair with Robbin and not Duff...maybe I knew, subconsciously, that us having children at that time would have changed the way everything happened between us.

"I guess it was for the best." I reply to her, finally, looking at her. 

"Everything happens for a reason." She assures me. "There is a reason she didn't have any babies in the past four years." 

"Okay, wise one, is there any reason she isn't here today?" 

VIVIAN

"...Mom, and my brother Jon, my sister Carol, my brother Mark, my brother Bruce, my sister Joan, my other sister Claudia, and that's Matt--you know Matt," he glances at me and I nod, looking at the picture of the family, "And then there's me." He points to a toddler and I grin, looking at him. "My dad didn't wanna be in the picture, which I'm glad he wasn't because I would've cut him out if it, anyway when he left, so…" he shrugs, looking at it another moment. "Alright, let me show you to your room." He wiggles his brows and I giggle as he picks up my suitcase and leads me back down a hallway. 

"This is Joan's old room, obviously been redecorated because it's not covered in ABBA and Cher ." He mumbles. 

"I heard that!" Joan says from the living room. 

"No ya didn't!" He replies, smiling at me, putting my suitcase on the bed. "Everybody's coming over for dinner tonight so you have time to take a nap, get comfortable, whatever." He shrugs and I nod. 

"Okay." I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. 

"I'm gonna go help my mom and Joan start cooking." He adds. 

"I can hel--"

"--You didn't sleep at all on the way up here, Viv."

"Because I wasn't tired." I lie and he looks at me. 

"Take a nap." He tells me, moving the suitcase off of my bed. 

"Fine." I roll my eyes. 

"Love you." He leaves me, shutting the door and I get on the bed, getting comfortable, and wondering what Nikki's doing right now...he's probably shitting a brick. 

After an hour, the door is opening and Duff's squeezing my fuzzy sock covered feet, making me laughs and yank my legs away from him. 

I haven't slept, but I've rested enough that I don't feel as sluggish. 

"You stink." I wrinkle my nose when he lays beside me. 

"Onions." He replies. "Joan kicked me out for chasing her around with the raw chicken." He adds. 

"And now raw chicken juice is on my feet?" I ask. 

"No, I washed my hands." He assures me. 

"Okay." I chuckle, rubbing my lips together. 

"Who all's coming to dinner?" I ask, next. "Jon, Bruce, Claudia, and my buddy Andy." He informs me. "Matt's coming up to go out for breakfast with me, you, Andy, and Joan tomorrow morning, and later this week we're gonna have a barbecue and you'll get to meet everybody, including my nieces and nephews." He adds and I raise my brows. 

"That's a lot of people." I reply, raising my brows.

"Very big family." He agrees. 

"It's weird." I say next and he furrows his brows. "Not like that, just...I don't know I'm used to being the only child, no cousins, no aunts or uncles--well, aside from aunt Lily--Nikki's not real close to his family, so we just...we're not really big on family." I shrug. "Well, dad is, he's always wanted more kids and a big family, I think, but my mom didn't so he didn't press her about it since she was ultimately the one who'd be carrying them." I add. 

"Do you want anymore kids?" He asks me and I let out a breath. 

"I'm not sure…" I trail off. "...I'd like to, but I don't know. I haven't thought about it, much." I lie and he nods. 

"Do you want anymore kids?" I ask him. 

"I do at some point, I don't think Mandy wants to, though. She says being a step-mom at the age of twenty-five is enough." He tells me. 

"Maybe she'll change her mind." I say. 

"She didn't want any kids when we first dated, so I think the only reason she's even making leeway for a stepchild is because she loves me." 

"It says a lot about her if she's willing to do that, though. A lot of women would've left." 

"Yeah, she's cooler about it than I thought she'd be." He agrees. "What did Nikki do when you first told him?" 

"He cried." I admit. "Like, a lot." 

"That's understandable." He says lowly. 

"Yeah, it is." I nod. "He's okay with it, now, though. He's not mad at either of us. I think he's more upset with himself about the whole thing." 

It's quiet for a few minutes before I get up enough courage to ask him, "are you happy?" 

"What do you mean?"

"Like...you know...our break up, and then you and Mandy are engaged now and I'm pregnant…"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, no, I'm great, Viv." He assures me, sounding genuine. "I don't know, things are a mess and crazy right now but I feel like it's falling into place at the same time, you know?"

I nod, smiling softly…

…I bought it for that moment.

I realized he was lying to himself the next morning at breakfast when he told the waitress to bring him a screwdriver--a triple--and, "just keep 'em coming."

[platypanthewriter]

The Prince and the Pauper (who drives an Uber) Ch. 6

(Prince Steve flees his wedding, and asks his Uber driver to take him bowling...and on a date.  WIP)  Part One | Two | Three | Four | Five

Billy’s phone rang seconds after the bell did, and he sat his books back down, checking to see whether it was Max’s school, and she’d finally decked that one kid that kept—but it wasn’t, it was Steve’s bowling picture, and Billy grabbed his books awkwardly and ducked around the people coming in for the next class, tucking his phone against his shoulder.  “Steve,” he said.

“Tell me I’m not a moron,” Steve said.  He sounded like he’d been running.  

“You are a moron,” Billy said absently, crouching against the corridor wall to stuff his notebook and textbook into his bag.  There was silence on the other end, and he bit his lip, considering.  “I mean, uh.”

“...you’re such a help,” Steve said dryly.

“You’re into me,” Billy told him, and Steve groaned.

“No, that’s smart.”

“Then you’re smart!  Ha,” Billy said, smirking, and Steve laughed, and blew air through his cheeks.

“...I have to sign a treaty today,” he said softly.  “I had everyone else read it, all the smart people, but—but if it’s wrong, it’s still my fault.”

“Hey, hey,” Billy said, frowning.  Somebody banged into him from behind, and he realized he’d stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.  “Your Royalship—”

“This is why the people should elect their leaders,” Steve groaned, his voice hoarse.  “I failed debate class!  I—I’ve been reading so much about taxes, and—and water rights—the letters are blurring, and I don’t think I know any more than I did yesterd—”

“Breathe,” Billy told him, walking as fast as he could to the open balcony, and a blast of heat.  “Babe.  Breathe for me.”  Steve took a shaky breath, and Billy bit his lips together hard against the need to curse himself for being such a fucking cunt.  “Shit,” Billy whispered, and Steve started snickering.  “You—you’re not a moron,” Billy admitted.

“I’m trying not to be,” Steve said softly.  “Y’know they say royalty’s all inbred.  Maybe that’s my problem, I probably have dumb royal braincells—”

Billy rolled his eyes.  His skin shone with sweat already, and he let his eyes close against the glare.  “Shut up, you’re not a moron.  Did somebody say something shitty to you?  ‘Cause I’ll fight ‘em.”

“I think if you punched the Minister of Agriculture, he’d die,” Steve said, laughing, with a sniffle.  “He’s like a hundred years old.”

“Sounds like it’s time for me to punch him,” Billy growled, and smiled, listening to Steve giggle.  “You tell me and I’m on a plane.”

“Maybe I should,” Steve said.  “I’d get to see you.”

Billy shut his eyes tightly against the burst of fondness that rose and heated his cheeks, and when he could, laughed.  “If you need me, I’ll figure it out,” he promised.

“I’ll be all right,” Steve said.  “I just—” he sighed.  “There just—there are some regulations that...somebody’s telling me they’re for safety, and we can’t let the corporations get away with, you know, giving people botulism—”

“Sounds pretty legit,” Billy nodded, biting his lip.

“But I’ve got somebody else saying it’s actually this new unnecessary process that wastes a bunch of food, and it’s just a way to drive the smaller growers out by making them adopt all this mechanical stuff—”

“...which one does that guy say?” Billy asked, leaning his elbows on the cement edge of the balcony.  “The one that called you a moron.”

“Oh, he didn’t, he wouldn’t say it,” Steve laughed, sounding disheartened.  “He just—”

“Do whatever he doesn’t want,” Billy hissed, and Steve’s laugh turned more genuine.  

“No, no, he’s, uh, he is conservative, but he...he means well,” Steve sighed.  “I don’t—”

“Okay,” Billy considered.  “Who’s the most onboard with your unionizing?”

“What?” 

“That isn’t patronizing at all.  There somebody like that?”

“Ah,” Steve was quiet for a long moment, and Billy watched a lady down below unlock her car, climb in and roll down the windows, burn herself on the steering wheel, and scramble out to stand in the shade.  “Maybe,” Steve said in a small voice.  “But that’s got nothing to do with—” 

“Go see what they think.  They might at least know who’s in it for profits.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said.  “I lo—” he cut off, clearing his throat.  “I’m so glad I met you, Billy Hargrove.”

Billy’s heart was pounding with what he’d thought Steve was about to say, and he drew a slow breath, wide-eyed.  “I’m pretty fucking happy I met you too,” he said back, feeling a little choked.  

“Miss you,” Steve whispered, and Billy laughed, wanting to cry.  

“Get your posh ass back here then,” he said.  

 The next day when he got home there were no lights on in any of the windows in the whole complex, and no porch lights.  In the light of the street lamps over the parking area, he could see extension cords going in through the windows in half the apartments, like they’d all suddenly forgotten about fire hazards, and blankets stuffed in the gaps.  He usually sat in the car for a minute, finishing out a song, and soaking in the last of the AC before he had to walk through the late night heat to their apartment building, but he slammed the door and stumbled in the darkness of the street door to the apartment stairs.  When he ran around and up, there were no lights on in the hallways, and the heat was so thick it had weight.  He unlocked the door by the light of his phone, and yelled for his sister, walking into what felt like a refrigerator.

“It’s fine,” came her voice, shouting through a door, and then closer.  “The landlord didn’t pay the electricity bill,” she said, in a familiar voice that meant she was grimacing.  “I, uh, I got some dry ice like the um, like, uh, it’s in the freezer and fridge.”

“What,” said Billy, finding her in the dim light from the digital display on the A/C unit plugged in in the middle of the kitchen, and awkwardly touching her shoulder.  “Where’d this thing come from?  Max.  Tell me what’s going on.  How long has the power been off.”

“Uh,” she said again, making a face, and then folding her arms.  “I thought...you were working late tonight.”

“...did you think I wouldn’t notice there were no lights when I came in?!” he hissed, stalking away to sit wrong-way-round on a kitchen chair, and lean his head on his arms.  

“No!”  She waved her hands, an orangey grey blur in the darkness.  “No, no, uh—it’s—um.  I just—”

The power came on in a chorus of hums from the fridge and the overhead fluorescent lights, and the usual AC clicked on over the window with a wheeze.  “...they got it back on,” he breathed, his shoulders dropping.  “Do—do we have to pay the—is the money just gone, the money we paid for utilities?  I can’t afford to—”

“Legally,” Max said, stepping forward to touch his elbow, “—it’s on him.  It’s not on us.  We won’t have to move, unless he pays for us to move.”

“What?” Billy asked, lifting his head, but Max’s phone rang, and she waved him away as she answered.

“...yeah, it’s back on,” she said, glancing back at Billy, and grimacing again.  “Um, yeah.  Thank you.  Yeah, that’s all—no, we’re okay.  It’s only been off a few hours!  No, we’re—we’re really—thank you.  Oh, really?”  She snorted.  “What happens to people who live in her buildings, then?  Oh.  Haha, sounds like she deserves it.  Thank you.  Wha—?”  She listened for a few minutes, as Billy’s suspicions heightened, and then laughed again, sounding a little disbelieving.  “Oh.  Oh, no, um, the air conditioner’s great, I can box it back up for—oh.  Uh, really?”  Her brows drew together as she stared at it, and Billy registered the box it had come in, sitting to the side.

“Shit,” he whispered, quietly, into his sleeves, and waited for his step-sister to get off the phone.  She bit her lips together, avoiding his eyes, and he cleared his throat.  “They turned the power off,” he prompted her, and she nodded.  “...and you called Steve.”

She nodded again, hunching her shoulders.

“He’s in charge of a country—”

“Yeah, I thought maybe he knew some lawyers,” she hissed back, and Billy's stomach went into freefall.

“You asked him to hire lawyers,” he whispered, registering that as a kid, she’d thrown down the only defense she had access to.  “—and he sent over an AC unit, jesus.  ...why didn’t you let me handle it?  Why didn’t—you didn’t even call me—”

“You were working!” she yelled.  “You were working all last night—"

"The power was off yesterday?!" he shouted back, "—there's a heat advisory—there are people collapsing out there—"

"You were at school all morning," she screamed back.  "—I thought—I thought you’d be gone all night—” 

Billy flinched at her volume, his eyes burning.  “Sorry!  Jesus, Max, I’m—I’m fucking sorry, okay, but you can’t just—”

“I couldn’t even make cup noodles,” she shouted, sounding like she wanted to cry herself, and Billy clenched his fists around the back of the chair, instead of running back downstairs to work more hours, or stomping off to sleep in his room.  

“I have to work!” he yelled back.  “I could have brought you some food, you didn’t even call me—”

“You said you trusted him!” she said, a little more quietly, her clenched fists shaking, and Billy remembered the look she had, her jaw set, too wary to look at him.  He remembered it from living at home, and felt worse.  

“I did say that,” he said numbly.  “...fine.”  She flinched back as he stood, and he froze, his eyes blurring with tears.  “Sorry you had to...do that,” he said through gritted teeth.  “I—I’ll call the—them, so next bullshit she tries, you don’t have to...deal with it.”

“I dealt with it fine,” she muttered, and Billy’s hands strained on the back of the chair until it creaked.  

“...sorry,” he whispered, turning away to his room.  

“Shut up!” she yelled after him, and Billy shouted back a  “You shut up!” before he slammed the door, and sank down against it, and fumbled his phone out.  He’d dialed before he realized it was two am in Greece, and he frantically shut it off, letting his head thump back against the door, and then thumping it harder a second and third time.  

He stopped as his phone rang with Prince Charming’s song from Snow White.

“Sorry,” he answered, in a weird uneven hiss, and cleared his throat.  “I’m so fucking sorry, now I fucking woke you up, I’m such a fucking moron—useless—asshole—”

“Billy,” Steve said, authoritative, and Billy sat up straighter, closing his eyes and clenching his fingers in his jeans.

“Y-yeah,” he whispered.  He wondered whether it was worth apologizing again, and tried not to sniffle as he felt his tears spill over down his cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, and Billy let out a sob before he buried it in his sleeves.

“Of-of course I’m okay,” he laughed hoarsely.  “My sister called my boyfriend ‘cause she knew I was useless, and he—he probably skipped a fucking—UN meeting or some shit—probably peace-talking with Iran right now and we’ll go to war because my air conditioning got turned off, and I’m so fucking useless my sister called you—”

“Billy.  Billy,” Steve said again, in the calm voice Billy associated with his kinder teachers.  “It was forty-nine degrees there, malaka, I checked online.  And it took like thirty seconds, I just told my PA to make a call—”

“Shit, I probably owe you a million dollars in—in legal fees,” Billy realized aloud, letting his head thud back against the door again as he turned the number 49 in his head. He couldn’t make sense of it until he remembered with a shaky huff of laughter that Steve was a prince where they used celsius.  “Jesus,” he whispered.

“You—no you don’t,” Steve huffed.  “What the hell are you—Billy.”  He sighed, and Billy pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, sighing into the warm fabric of his sleeves.  “You don’t owe me anything, you don’t—” Steve started again, sounding annoyed, and Billy waited, shutting his eyes tighter.  “I’m not that important, love, you’re not going to cause a war.”

“What,” Billy breathed, his comprehension stalling out in the middle.

“You can always call me,” Steve told him, breathing a little faster, and Billy pictured him pacing around his gold-and-marble room, walking over his bed in huge steps like it was steep terrain, and scrabbling at his hair.  Billy took a slow breath, listening, as Steve repeated. “I love you.  You can always call me.”

“Shit.  I thought—” Billy took another deep, shaky breath, trying to focus his thoughts as he wiped more tears off his cheeks and relaxed, sliding sideways to curl up on his side against the foot of the door.  “I get another chance still, huh?”

“...you thought I’d...dump you,” Steve said slowly.

“But you didn’t,” Billy laughed, giggling with relief.  “Shit.  God.  You don’t—you don’t have to say shit like that, I’m not—I’m fine, jesus.  Jesus.”

“Why’re you laughing?” Steve asked, and Billy laughed harder, wiping his eyes.  

“Can’t believe you’re okay with this,” Billy whispered.  “I figured—”

“You can ask for help,” Steve interrupted, and Billy smiled wider, curling around his phone.

“You just wanna strip show later, right?” he whispered, keeping his voice flirty when he wanted to snicker.  

“...I seriously don’t know whether you’re kidding,” Steve said, and Billy sighed, pushing himself to your feet.  

“...d’you want me to be?”

“I flubbed it and told you I loved you because you sounded upset, and you haven’t said anything, and now you’re laughing at me,” Steve growled, but he sounded a little whiny, and Billy wanted to wrap him in a soft sweatshirt again, and then unwrap him entirely, and kiss every square inch of his body.  

“Uhhh,” he said to break the silence, his face heating as he thought of humiliating ways to reply.  

“I’m going back to bed,” Steve sighed, and Billy spun to pace in his little room, hoping—like an idiot—that they were pacing in synch.

“No, no, wait,” he mumbled, then groaned.  “I—I heard you, I thought—” he trailed off, and the silence lengthened.  Finally, Billy forced out “What did you mean?”

“What?!” Steve laughed.

“What does that even—”

“Billy—”

“No, look, we—we fucked, right,” Billy said, waving his hand in a decisive chopping motion.

“...we fucked,” Steve said, real quiet, and Billy dropped to lay across his bed, staring at the ceiling.  

“We fucked.  A couple times.  And—and now I call you sometimes when you’re flipping your shit—”

“Or when you are,” Steve put in, and Billy pulled the blanket over his head, groaning.  

“I don’t—I didn’t that much, jesus.  I flipped out a couple times, you—” Billy spoke louder, over Steve’s sputtering, “—you call me when I’m freaking out, asshole, you know you do that, Max fucking tells you, I didn’t ask for that, I don’t—”

“Why does this sound like I’m accused of a crime,” Steve muttered, and Billy stopped with his mouth still open, then closed it.

“No,” he said, thinking.  “No, I didn’t—I don’t mean that, I mean...I just mean—you can’t—”

“I can’t what?” Steve asked.

“You can’t fall in love with a hot Uber driver you meet for like...a week,” Billy sighed.  “Just because I told you some like...jokes.  A couple times.”

“Billy.  I have known you for months,” Steve told him, with the carefully articulated syllables of someone trying to sound patient.

“We haven’t even been able to talk much—”

“We talk nearly every day!” Steve laughed, sounding upset, and Billy’s eyes widened as he bit his lips, considering.  

“...no,” he said quietly, laughing.  “No fucking way.”

“...I’m going to hang up,” Steve said, and Billy sat up under the blanket.

“No, no, wait, you can’t—I’m not—it’s just—”

“I’m tired,” Steve told him, sounding kind of sad, and Billy scrambled for something to say.

“No, there hasn’t been a musical number,” he said, curling around his phone again to concentrate on Steve’s voice as he waited to see whether his prince would laugh.  

“...what?!” Steve asked.  “The hell are you—”

“I can fall for you,” Billy told him, feeling like the five short words took all his oxygen.  “I—I can.  F-fall in...but y-you’re a prince.  Th-there hasn’t been a musical number.”

“...you saying you’re in love with me?” Steve asked, and Billy wanted to hide, his pounding heart telling him to say it, or Steve would be hurt, but also not to, because Billy Hargrove’s love wasn’t valuable enough to take up somebody’s time.  

“...you tromped right the fuck into my—my heart when you tried to buy a plush winged buffalo,” Billy admitted, realizing he sounded a little pissed, which was truthful enough.  “And I don’t need a fucking musical number.  Even—even if you hadn’t called, y’know.  Gotten in touch.  Every time I hear your voice you’re a little more in here.  I—I wake up thinking maybe I’ll hear from my prince today, try to—try to think of funny shit to say so you’ll keep calling…”

Steve made a noise like he was trying to laugh underwater.

“I reread your texts all the time when I need…” Billy trailed off, and took another deep breath.  “You’re like a—a goddamn air freshener, I look at you and I—I listen to your dumb voice and it—everything’s—better,” he forced out.  “Had to stop calling just to listen to your voicemail,” he admitted quietly.  “‘Cause you kept calling me back.  No matter what time it was, you’d call me back, and—and asking what—I-I there wasn’t anything I wanted, I just wanted...you.”

“Please keep calling my voicemail,” Steve laughed, sniffling.  “I thought I scared you off, or—or maybe you were trying to leave bad news.  How come you only call when you think I won’t answer?!  I’ll always answer—”

“Don’t tell me this shit,” Billy hissed, “—I’ll take you up on this crap, I will, you’ll get fifty calls a day because I had to leave class—I was thinking about your dumb face today and I kept smiling at the professor and she thought I was high—”

“No!” Steve shouted back, laughing.  “No, keep doing it!  I want you thinking about me, you can—you can always—just call and tell me—”

Billy stuck out his tongue and blew loudly.  “Oh, yeah,” he snorted.  “Prince Steven, I’m horny.  Ignore that—that ambassador, and watch me take my shirt off, your majesty—”

“Let me get somewhere I can unzip my slacks,” Steve laughed, and Billy snorted so hard he choked, coughing.  “Make some requests, maybe.”

“What d’you wanna request?” Billy asked, letting his voice come out husky.  “I’m in bed, by the way.  Bring it on.”

“You got time?” Steve asked, and Billy could hear his smile.  “I want video of you saying you love me.”

“Fuck you,” Billy mumbled, wide-eyed.  “What the shit—”

“I’ll call you from somewhere public,” Steve whispered.  “Somewhere nobody can hear me, but everyone can see me, and I’ll talk you off.”

“Holy shit,” Billy breathed.

“Send me video of you in a hoodie,” Steve said.  “Tell me you love me,” and Billy’s face heated enough to be the sole cause of the current heat advisory.  

“No!” he hissed back, muffled, because he’d buried his face in the pillow.  He was fairly sure it’d combust.  “Fuck you!  No!”

“Don’t you want me telling you how to touch yourself in my sash and uniform,” Steve whispered, snickering.  “I’ll wear my crown.  You know you want me to—”

“Oh my god,” Billy wheezed.  “Now I do.  What fucking kink even is that?!”

“I’ll go out on some palace balcony,” Steve said.  “Maybe I’ll wave.  While you’re squirming around with your hand on your dick.  I’ll say stuff like ‘god, you sound amazing, babe,’ and ‘good job’.”  

“...you motivational speaker,” Billy muttered, meaning it to insult.  

“Do I get my video?”

“I don’t know, how good a job d’I have to do to hear it,” Billy shot back, then realized what he said, and buried his face again.

“...you wanna hear you did a good job?” Steve asked, and Billy mumbled ‘damn it, damn it, damn it’ into his pillow.  “I can’t tell you you did a good job on my video until I get it, but I know you will,” he said, and Billy shivered.

“I was just kidding—” he tried to interrupt, but Steve just got louder.

“—you do such a good job with your sister, you’re amazing, taking classes and working, you’re not even twenty years old—”  Billy groaned incoherently into his pillow, but Steve didn’t stop.  “You always know what to say because you listen to me, like you listen to Max, you’re so good at that, you’re so good for me—”

Billy squirmed, shifting in his jeans, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing his eyes would stop burning.  

“I could have ended up in anyone’s car,” said Steve, “—I was—I was upset, and I didn’t know what I was doing, and—you—you were really good to me,” he mumbled, starting to sound embarrassed himself.  “Say something.”

Billy took a deep, slow breath.  “—walked in today and I thought—I realized Max got you to call us lawyers and I…” his breath gave out, and he shut his eyes tightly, pressing his lips together.  Steve took a breath, but stayed quiet.  “Thought you—thought you’d leave me hangin’,” Billy whispered, laughing.  “Last, uh, last straw, this American slut dickhead who keeps taking you for more money.”

“I want to help,” Steve told him, hoarsely.  “Billy.  I want to help you.”  

“You don’t have to!” Billy said, smiling into the middle distance, his eyes stinging with tears.  “It’s not—that’s not what you’re for, your highness, you don’t always have to help.”

“I want to,” Steve huffed.

“You’d be perfect already if you were poor and stingy,” Billy told him, narrowing his eyes.  “Stop overachieving.  The hell am I supposed to say ‘love you’ to somebody like you.  Whole universe just popped up an error window.”

“No, it didn’t,” Steve breathed, and Billy could hear him beaming through the phone.  “Fuck do you mean musical number.  You saying I have to write you a song?  Because I—”

“No,” Billy interrupted, his eyes widening in horror.  “No, I’m giving you shit, because you’re a prince—”

“Perform in karaoke?  Should I rent some big venue, Billy?”

“No, no, no no no,” Billy sat up in bed, staring at the wall.  “What?!  No!”

“Tough crowd,” Steve said, laughing like a shithead, and Billy tried to resist snickering, his eyes widening in dread.

“No, no, it was a joke, you dumb fuck—”

“I’ll have to do both—”

“How do you even—” Billy roared, and Steve snickered.

“I better go get started,” he said, sing-songing it.  “Did you know I can play the guitar?”

“Of course you fucking can,” Billy breathed.  “You’re amazing.  Stop, stop this right now—”

“Gonna write you a love song—” Steve sang, and to Billy’s horrified and charmed embarrassment, it sounded good.

“Oh no,” he whispered.

Steve made a kissy noise into the phone.  “Love you too, babe.  That’s just for practise, of course, ‘til I get that song done!  Just keep saying I love you.  Gotta get it right.  Love you, love you, love you!  Am I saying it right?  It’s hard for princes to say these things without singing—”

“Shut up,” Billy croaked, like a frog.

“I need a rhyming dictionary for our musical number,” Steve sang, snickering, and Billy growled.  “Maybe I’ll work my way up from limericks.  Dick limericks.  To dick sonnets.  To dick epics—”

Billy hung up on him.

My other Harringrove stuff

[advena87]

Aiden & Lambert’s love story because we deserve more than one and we didn't get any (at least not in canon). Long Post!

check out also Kaer Morhen Shenanigans

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story and… this.

I love playing with incorrect quotes. The ones below are already used a few times in Kaer Morhen shenanigans, but I modified and changed them, and added a lot of new ones.

So the idea is that young witchers from the griffin and cat schools come to Kaer Morhen - including Coen and Aiden. The purpose of the visit is for aspiring witchers to learn something from each other, and in fact it’s just an excuse to play with the idea of Lambert x Aiden. Of course, Lambert’s witcher brothers will try to help him with his crush, and they will not miss the opportunity to make fun of him.

The setting is like this because the idea that Geralt, Eskel and Berengar will be Lambert's wingmen is simply priceless. I know that this configuration had no right to happen in the canon, but the canon has hurt us more than once. That's why we always have to fix everything. And that's why Berengar appears in my posts. In my opinion he deserved it and you can't change my mind. And I think he and Lambert have so much in common that it's really a shame they never met in games. I think that they would have a beautiful dynamics of the oldest and youngest brother.

Anyway I hope you enjoy it! :)

.

Aiden: Hi, I am-

Lambert, shaking his hand: Handsome.

Aiden: -Aiden. And you are?

Lambert: Apparently not as straight as I thought I was.

***

Lambert: Can I ask a dumb question?

Berengar: Better than anyone I know.

Lambert: Is it gay to think about your best mate in the shower?

Berengar: …

Geralt: …

Eskel: …

Lambert: Asking for a friend.

Berengar: …

Geralt: …

Eskel: …

Lambert: But now seriously: I’m not gay if I wanna date Aiden as like bros, right?

Geralt: I’m no expert but that does sound kinda gay.

Berengar: I’m an expert. That’s gay.

***

Lambert: I swing both ways.

Lambert: Violently. With a sword.

Lambert: Also, I’m bisexual.

Lambert: … promise you won’t tell anyone?

Berengar: Your secret is safe with me. I wasn’t even listening.

*later*

Eskel: The printer messed up the invitations. It was supposed to say “Lambert’ birthday”.

Geralt: What does it say instead?

Eskel: “Lambert’ bi”

Berengar: Well that could still work.

Geralt: Wait, what? No, Lambert is straight.

Berengar: Trust me, he isn’t. The only straight thing he is gonna do is that he is gonna go straight to hell.

Eskel: Wait, Berengar, isn’t this thing between Lambert and Aiden supposed to be a secret?

Berengar: Hardly. The only people who don’t know Lambert loves Aiden are Lambert and Aiden. And Geralt for some reason.

***

Eskel: You and Aiden seem very close.

Lambert: We're just friends.

Berengar: Oh please, we all know you're a heartbeat away from getting his name tattooed on your ass.

***

Lambert: You look nice, I want to kiss you.

Aiden: WHAT

Lambert: I SAID IF YOU DIED I WOULDN’T MISS YOU

Berengar, behind Lambert's back, mouthing to Aiden: LIES

***

*Aiden and Coen talking and laughing*

Lambert: *staring at them silently*

Eskel: You’re really quiet today, Lambert.

Lambert: Nobody plans a murder out loud.

***

Lambert: Why does this griffin dude keep talking to you?

Aiden: Lambert, we are friends.

Lambert: I know you two are friends but…

Aiden, deadpan: No, Lambert, I meant you and I are friends.

Lambert: Yeah, we’re friends, but I’d fuck you if you asked.

Aiden: What?

Lambert: What?

Berengar, eating popcorn: He said he’d fuck you if you asked.

***

Lambert: Fuck, Aiden, you look like hell!

Aiden: Yeah? I just got back.

Lambert: Dude, who hurt you?

Aiden: Do you want a list or something?

Lambert:

Lambert: *grabs sword* Actually, yes.

Aiden: No, wait, we can’t solve all our problems with murder.

Lambert: How about just this problem?

***

Lambert: I think I might have a crush on Aiden…

Berengar: Congratulations, you’re officially the last one to know.

Geralt: Aiden would never date a jerk like you.

Lambert: Fuck you, shouldn’t I be one of your best friends?

Gerelt: Yeah, which is how I know you’re a jerk.

Eskel: So what are you going to do?

Lambert: I don’t know, something dramatic I hope.

Berengar: Oh for fuck’s sake, just ask Aiden out! What’s the worst that could happen?

Lambert: Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity and death.

***

Aiden: Can you ride?

Lambert: *looks at Aiden up and down* Yes.

Aiden: I meant the horse, Lambert.

***

Lambert: How do I politely ask him to slam me against a wall and make out with me?

Geralt: Lambert, it’s four in the morning, if you want to make out with Aiden just do it quietly, I don’t care how you ask him!

*next day*

Aiden: *hands Lambert a water bottle*

Lambert: *drinking it* Thanks, what’s it for?

Aiden: Geralt says you get thirsty around me.

Lambert: *chokes on water*

***

Lambert, smirking: So when are you gonna go out with me?

Aiden, smiling back: I don’t know, when are you gonna ask me out?

Lambert, freaking out: uhhh....

*later that day*

Berengar: So you ran away like a fucking coward?

Lambert: I DIDNT EXPECT HIM TO FLIRT BACK!!

***

Eskel: Why are you ignoring Aiden?

Lambert: I’m playing hard to get.

Geralt: Why would you do that? You’re already hard to want.

***

Eskel: I shouldn’t be interfering in this but give him a chance. Lambert would throw himself in front of a speeding horse for you.

Aiden: Lambert would throw himself in front of a speeding horse for fun.

Eskel: Ok, point taken, but don’t worry, he grows on you.

Aiden: Oh, really?

Eskel:

Eskel: No, actually, he just gets worse.

***

Aiden: I’m having problems with Lambert.

Geralt: Problems like ‘his dead body won’t fit in your cupboard’ or problems like ‘you like him’?

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Problems like ‘I like him’.

Geralt: Too bad, I could have helped with the other one.

***

Aiden: I have 4 friends.

Eskel: But there are 5 of us. Me, Geralt, Berengar, Lambert and Coen.

Aiden: Lambert is my special idiot.

Aiden: That’s different.

***

Aiden: Lambert, look me in the eyes and be straight with me.

Lambert: So… Do I look at you? Or do I be straight? I can’t do both.

***

Lambert: I’m in love with you.

Aiden: That’s… a terrible idea.

Lambert: Yeah, I have a lot of those.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Well then, let's try.

Lambert: Wait, does that mean you like me? For my personality?

Aiden: I know, I was surprised too.

***

Lambert and Aiden: *walk into the room together with happiness written on their faces*

Berengar: So who finally confessed?

Lambert: It was me, I made sure it was short and sweet.

Aiden: You yelled, “Listen here, you little shit, I have feelings for you and it’s about time you acknowledged them!” from the castle tower.

Lambert: It worked though.

Aiden: All in all, this may come as a surprise to you, but Lambert and I are dating now.

Geralt: Damn. Now I owe Eskel 20 crowns. You guys couldn’t have waited another week?

Lambert: Wait, what?

Eskel: You two just earned me 20 crowns is what, so thank you.

***

Aiden: When you're gay in your house with nobody else, you're homolone.

Lambert: When you're bi and there's nobody else around, you're biyourself.

Berengar: You're two morons.

***

Coen: So, you've already made friends with Eskel, Geralt and Berengar?

Aiden: Yeah.

Coen: Great, just a little advice - stay away from Lambert.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Lambert is my boyfriend.

Coen: Oh...

Coen: Um...

Coen: So, what's he like?

Aiden: Have you ever met a human version of a headache?

***

Coen, pointing at Lambert: Is this guy bothering you?

Aiden: Yeah, but he’s my boyfriend, I signed up for this

***

Aiden: You’re annoying.

Lambert: But you love me >:3

Aiden: Doesn’t make you any less annoying.

***

Lambert: *spills water on his shirt* Oh, what have I done? Now my shirt is all see-through.

Geralt: *rolls his eyes* And so are you. I know what you’re doing.

AIden: So do I, but I am enjoying the show immensely.

***

Lambert: Did it hurt?

Aiden, rolling his eyes: When I fell from heaven?

Lambert: No.

Lambert: When you fell for me.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Actually, yes. It’s hurts every day.

Berengar, from distance: BUUURN!

***

Coen: It’s so exhausting having a boyfriend! You’re lucky you don’t have one.

AIden: Actually, last time I checked I did have a boyfriend.

Coen: No, you have a Lambert. That’s not the same thing.

Aiden: What do you mean?

Coen: Well, he’s more like a puppy. Excitable, loud, always happy to see you, protective, and he bites anyone who threatens you.

Aiden: …

Aiden: Point taken.

***

Aiden: YOU’RE SO ANNOYING! I CANT BELIEVE IM DATING YOU!

Lambert: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOURE THE ONE WHO CHEATED!

Aiden: Because YOU cheated FIRST!

Lambert: YOU STUPID-

Eskel: I think we’re done playing gwent for tonight….

Geralt: Wait, no. I’m enjoying this.

Aiden: Don't you call me stupid!

Lambert: Okay, then how about 'bitch'?!

Aiden: Arrogant dick!

Lambert: Spoiled asshole!

Aiden: Fuck you!

Lambert: Fuck YOU!

Aiden: FUCK YOU!!!

Lambert: FUCK!!! YOU!!!

Aiden: ...

Aiden: My room, ten minutes.

Geralt: Okey... not what I expected.

Eskel: And we're done here.

***

Lambert: I have an idea, but I’m going to need your permission.

Aiden: Sudenly you need my permission? Why?

Lambert: Cause if I mess it up, I don’t want it to be just my fault.

Aiden: That sounds like a really risky and gay plan.

Lambert: So? You in?

Aiden: I thought it was an obvious answer.  

***

Aiden: I want to hear those three little words.

Lamber: I love you.

Aiden: Try again.

Lambert: Fine.

Lambert: I will behave.

Aiden: :)

***

Aiden: Close your eyes and hold out your hand.

Lambert: I played this game once with my brothers and got slimed by a toad.

Aiden: It’s not a toad.

***

Lambert: I didn’t raise you to be like this.

Aiden: You’re my boyfriend. You didn’t raise me at all.

Lambert: And yet you still call me daddy.

Aiden: Oh for the love of-

***

Eskel: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Geralt: Weak. I sleep with a sword under mine.

Lambert: You’re both pathetic.

Berengar: What killer weapon do you sleep with then, Mr. Badass?

Lambert, proud and confident: Aiden.

***

Aiden: The food's too hot, I can't eat it.

Lambert: You're too hot and I still eat you.

Berengar: It's family moments like these that we will never forget.

Geralt: With a good therapist, hopefully I will.

Eskel: I'm not hungry anymore.

Vesemir: One dinner. ONE NORMAL DINNER!!

***

Lambert: *phone starts ringing*

Eskel: *looks at who is calling*

Eskle, laughs: So you call Vesemir 'daddy'?

Lambert: *answers call and makes direct eye contact with Eskel*

Lambert: Hey, Aiden.

Eskel: *chokes on drink*

***

Geralt: Okay Lambert, truth or dare?

Lambert: Truth.

Geralt, smirking: Why did you get kicked out of the brothel?

Lambert, looking absolutely horrified: Oh no…

Aiden, whipping his head around so fast Eskel almost shits himself: You fucking what?!

Lambert: Look, you can’t be mad at me! I was just there, minding my own business-

Aiden: We both know that’s a load of crap, Lambert, you’re lying!

Lambert: Does this look like the face of a liar?

Aiden: You really don’t want to hear my thoughts on your face right now.

Lambert: Ok, you know what? Fuck you!

Aiden: Later. Now listen here, you little shit-

Geralt, laughing: Living my best life.

Eskel: Oh my God, Geralt, what did you do, they’re going to kill each other.

Geralt: This isn’t about them.

Aiden, siting on Lambert and beating crap out from him: Really Lambert, I expected better from you!

Lambert, rolling them and pinning Aiden to the ground: Then that’s your own fault! I’m not responsible for your expectations!

Aiden: Bite me!

Lambert: Where?

Aiden: ...

Lambert: So you going to take a swing? Or you just going to staring into my eyes?

Aiden: Hmm, what was that? I was busy staring into your eyes...

Labert: Oh you beautiful bastard! Just punch me already!

*Berengar enters room*

Berengar: What the fuck is going on here? Are they fighting or making out?

Eskel: At this point, I honestly can't tell.

*later*

Lambert: Eskel, how do I get revenge on Geralt?

Eskel: The best revenge is letting go and living your life to the fullest.

Lambert: …

Lambert: Berengar, how do I -

Berengar: Brick.

***

Aiden: How do you usually get out of these messes?

Lambert: I don’t, I just make an even bigger one that cancels the first one out.

Aiden: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Lambert: Oh, I’ve had worse.

***

Aiden: I’m fucking an idiot.

Eskel: Isn’t that grammatically wrong? Shouldn’t it be “I’m a fucking idiot”?

Aiden: No, I’m fucking an idiot.

Eskel: ???

Aiden, sighing: Ok, watch out.

Aiden: Yo, Lambert, are you high?

Lambert: What?

Aiden: High!

Lambert: Hello!

Aiden to Eskel, pointing to Lambert: That’s the idiot.

***

*witchers face complications during the contract. Lambert is abducted for the ransom*

Lambert, offended: You think I’m only worth 10.000 crowns?!

Kidnappers: What?

Lambert: Give me that *takes the megaphone*

Lambert: Make it 1 billion and we can think about it.

Aiden, from outside: LAMBERT SHUT THE FUCK UP!

***

Lambert: Okay, okay, what if I microwave a spoon? Steal some bees? Oh, oh, let's try to fuse corn and apples!

Aiden: What the fuck?

Aiden: Lambert, I asked you how we should spend our anniversary, I clearly do not remember requesting for ways to disappoint your family.

Lambert: Sorry, force of habit.

***

Lambert, drunk at 1AM: *in pajamas and blasting ABBA in his room* Gimmie gimmie gimmie my man after midnight! Won’t somebody help me-

Geralt in the other room: Aiden is dead. Get over it and go to bed! There’s your help.

Lambert: [drunken sobs]

.

[frigginconfused]

Hi, I haven't heard of the recent news... Um, what is going on? My smooth pea brain can't comprehend all this news thrown at my face ;n;

Well let me open with what a week to get sick am I right?

Okay I’m aware you aren’t American, so to all of my non American friends who maybe don’t yet know exactly what the fuck just happened this week, here’s the rundown as I’m able to give it:

Trump. You may know him as the moron D-list celebrity who refused to take covid seriously, caught covid, had around the clock care to get better, and then proceeded to tell millions who don’t have access to around the clock care that it was nothing to worry about.

What you may or may not know: He’s an openly racist, sexist, all around bigot, who is the main man responsible for over 200,000 covid deaths and counting because he not only refused to act but actively encouraged people to not take the pandemic seriously. His term as president has also given us a rise in OTHER openly racist, sexist, all around bigoted people, because they’ve seen that not only are there no consequences for those actions, one can actually be elected FUCKING PRESIDENT on them, and we’ve seen quite a bit of shit spike under his term as president.

Unfortunately I don’t have the full ability to explain how we got to that point, I will leave that to more qualified people, but I can tell you most of what’s happened this week with this knowledge in mind.

Donald Trump was our Republican Candidate, while Joe Biden was our Democratic Candidate.

On November 3rd the US held it's presidential election

Most of the time we know the winner on the same night but this year has been different because of the pandemic which has meant that more people have submitted their vote by mail and usually mail-in votes don't get counted until the day of or the day after the election (one of the many tools of voter suppression here as mail in votes tend to lean democratic for reasons including but not limited to disabled voters and inaccessible polling places). 

Tensions were high as people awaited the results, while only getting to see the results of the votes that were cast in person. Many people reminded others to not lose hope just yet, as mail in votes were being counted. Many states started narrowing the gap between republican and democrat votes which raised tensions even more-- Especially with the state of Georgia having rejected over 10,000 ballots while nearly blue (democrat). 

The state of Nevada turned blue and contained JUST the correct number of electoral votes for Biden to will the presidency-- So Trump sued the state(or was it a county?) for voter fraud. Trump and his supporters started demanding that the votes stop being counted on social media (while he was in the lead? Even after he was losing? Both?) 

Then November 5th happened. 

As votes were being counted and the count being slowed down due to lawsuits, tensions reached a high online. First it came out that a Twitter artist had been role-playing as real life serial killer, Ted bundy. If I’m not mistaken-- and I could be with this whole fuckin mess-- that same person was noted as being racist on top of things.

Later the same day the show Supernatural, which hasn't been all too popular on social media since 2012, aired an episode in which a character named Castiel confessed his love for a character named Dean and was IMMEDIATELY sent to super hell. Or, I guess as people have been correcting “the nothing” which I’m not sure is any better or worse, either way it was a hot fucking mess.

The timing of this-- the 12 years of queerbaiting leading into the shitties most homophobic gay love confession one can muster-- and the fact that all the people waiting on election results had heard of the destiel ship, all culminated to immediate celebratory mockery of the canonization of destials, THEN memes of canon destial began being used to spread the rumor that Putin was stepping down as president of Russia, which was later revealed to inaccurate information from a tabloid. 

The next morning many people woke up expecting to hear election results but instead learned all this instead. 

As votes continued to be counted slowly, for the first time in roughly 30 years the state of Georgia had flipped blue. Then the state of Pennsylvania started counting votes for the city of Philadelphia which flipped the state blue as well.

Yesterday, November 7th Pennsylvania officially called their results and Biden has won the presidency, resulting in celebration all across the us (and a few other countries world wide) not because Biden won, but because Trump lost.

As a bonus we find out that there will be a runoff election for two senate seats in georgia, opening the opportunity to take those seats for the democratic party so we may actually accomplish something in these next four years.

The cherry on top of this many many tiered cake?

The trump campaign set to hold a press conference and booked the WRONG four seasons, and instead of owning up to a mistake they leaned into it. This conference was held not at the Four Seasons hotel, but at Four Seasons Total Landscaping, wherein they plastered signs to a garage door, gathered in a lot next to an Adult Bookstore called Fantasy Island, and held their conference there.

I’ve said before, but I will restate:  Watching the trump campaign book the WRONG Four Seasons is like tripping someone who deserves it, and then watching in delight as they happen to fall into a stairwell and down a flight of stairs

What a fucking time to be alive.

[em0uvante]

Amaranthine

Chapter three

TRIGGER WARNING:

- MENTIONS OF DEATH

- VIOLENCE

I love you all, enjoy.

"remember the sorting hat ceremony bubba?" i ask draco, interrupting his boring lecture. he grunts, ending his sentence.

"asshole, but yeah, i do. what about it?" he mutters the beginning, gradually getting louder.

"i don't know, i just want to go back. i miss it." i huff, laying my head on draco's lap.

"but we still go to this school? what do you mean?" he pets my hair gently, making sure not to pull on it.

"i don't know. i guess i want to go back in time, before everything went in the gutter." my eyes well up with tears which i pat away with my palms.

draco lifts me off his lap into his arms, holding me tightly. i quickly wipe my tears on his clothed shoulder. i sit back up. draco takes my chin in between his index finger and thumb, staring into my eyes. his soft lips meet my cheek, cooling my nerves. i let out a prolonged sigh, eyes closing shut.

"it's over now annie, you're safe know. i'll never leave your side. promise." draco holds out his pinky finger, i take it in mine. our foreheads meet, resting against each other.

"sorry i got your shirt all wet." i sniffle waiting for draco to reply.

"i wasn't gonna say anything because you're sad, but yeah, pretty gross." we share a low chuckle, draco pokes at my side. i squirm myself off his lap, falling to the floor. draco only points his finger and laughs.

"you are so mean! ugh, why do i have to live with you?" i shout from the floor, draco holding out his hand to pick me up.

"well, i have to go to potions, and you need to get yourself to herbology. walking with me or not annie?" he slides his robes on, waiting for an answer.

"yeah, i'll walk with you. but only because you have no other friends." i stick my tongue out at him, face contorting in a confused manner.

"says you! i'm your only friend you prune," he remarks stubbornly. "and for your information, i have blaise, and- um..." draco trails off while i collect my belongings for class. i shake my head at him, chuckling to myself. i hear a subtle knock on the door. my eye rests against the peephole.

"hey mister popular, astoria greena- i mean uh astoria greengrass. she's behind the door, waiting for you."

"oh! i didn't know she was stopping by." he scrambles to ruffle out his hair. my eyes roll to the back of my head out of disgust. astoria greenass has draco wrapped around her finger.

the pair met when they were put together for a potions project last year. he was amazed by her beauty, and fell head over heels in love with her. this is what i assume, of course. they have been inseparable since. i'm not sure why, but i really really hate astoria.

"your hair looks fine bubba." i say, peeking my head out of the bathroom where i was hiding from the devil herself.

"don't call me bubba! astoria is here!" he whisper-shouts, opening the door for astoria. draco's pale complexion lights up when he sees astoria's. i feel a wave of heat flows down my spine. her presence ignites a strong fire inside of me.

astoria is wearing her robe, tie, and her long brown locks are tied with a emerald colored ribbon. i don't know why draco fancies astoria to such extent. although, her lack of personality and gorgeous genes are probably enough for him.

"pepperpup! i missed you so much!" draco engulfs her into a hug, astoria wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"aw i missed you as well babe." she replies, kissing his cheek softly. i notice draco's face turn beet red when her lips touch his upper jaw bone.

"babe? i didn't know you guys were snogging! good thing draco got headgear when he did." i wittily interrupt. their heads whip around towards the couch, huffing at my comment.

"we're no-"

"indeed we are. we have been for a month today." she grins, pulling draco into her arms for the second time today. draco's face goes blank, his eyes glued to my hands. which were fiddling with the snake ring on my left middle finger.

"oh really? that's so cool! i'm thrilled for you both," i manage to mutter out, counting down from fifty in my head to control my growing rage. "anyway, i have to go to class. have a good day you two. i'll see you tomorrow for the quidditch game." i quickly gather my bag and sprint out the door, slamming it behind me.

(ONE HOUR AND FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES LATER)

"are you feeling alright darling? you look, sickly." my friend aera asks. her hand caresses mine in a soothing manner, snapping me back into reality.

"yeah! i'm good. wanna grab something to eat? i'm starving." aera's fingers stop and her face holds an unconvinced look. aera is far too intelligent to believe my lies.

"do you think i'm a bloody imbecile? i insist you tell me what dilemma you are facing this instance." she states, all whilst lacing her shoes to go to dinner.

"no i don't, but there is nothing wrong with me aera. really." she raises her eyebrow quizzically. her alluring eyes stare deeply into my soul, searching for the truth. aera's head slowly turns as the rest of her body goes still.

"fine! draco and astoria are dating but i hate her stupid brat face! ugh, i hate her so much!" i scream, allowing anyone in the common room to hear.

"divulge me in your problems. toni, why do you loathe her to such extent?"

"i literally have no idea. maybe because draco is obsessed with her, and is a dickhead to me when she is around. or because draco calls her pepperpup, god that's so stupid. pepperpup, like she's a fucking dog. i'm sorry, excuse my language, they just make me so angry!" my feelings pour out into the world while i scream my lungs out. aera just stays silent and nods her head, waiting for me to finish.

"thank you for sharing with me. let's head to dinner." she takes my hand in hers and leads me to the great hall, which is jam-packed full of ravenous students.

"can we eat in your dorm? i don't want to sit by him tonight." i ask, hiding my face in the beanie i'm wearing.

"i'm afraid not hun. besides, i have a date tonight. goodbye!" with that, aera is gone like the wind. just like that i'm standing by myself in the middle of the great hall.

i try my best to be discreet while getting my dinner plate. ham, carrots, a bun and some mash are what i grab to eat. after gathering my food, i eat it as fast as possible making sure not to draw attention to myself. i hear blaise call my name, meaning draco was near. i turn my head to the person next to me, pretending to be in a conversation.

as i'm trying to 'converse' with the girl next to me, i feel a harsh tap on my shoulder. i look up to find blaise zabini roughly tapping me, signaling for me to sit with them. them being blaise, pansy, astoria, and draco.

"nettie! come on and sit with us mate! draco won't stop asking for you." he mumbles the last part so only i could hear. i shrug, pick up my plate and walk over to the group. draco's glum expression lights up, his eyes filling with joy.

"nice to see you again antoinette! we were just chatting about the quidditch game tomorrow. ravenclaw versus slytherin! should be a good one." astoria states, her bright smile never dropping. i ball my fist when i hear my full name come out of her mouth.

"don't ever call me antoniette you dumb bitch!" i shout, standing up from my seat. my hand nearly collides with her face, but someone's hand stops it. draco's eyes bore into mine, telling me to calm down. i let my hand fall back to my side, the same angry expression plasters my face.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't know! i swear!" astoria cries, pansy holding her tightly. the disappointed face on pansy grows.

"if you didn't know, maybe you could have fucking asked! did you not notice the fact that nobody around calls me fucking antoinette!?! jesus christ astoria, are you that fucking stupid!?!" i scream, tears spilling from astoria's eyes. i feel like i could punch a hole into the earth with my one fist.

"oh my god toni, take a rest. you sound fucking crazy." blaise says calmly, only fueling my fire more. i hate that word, hate it. draco knows that. i tilt my head to the side, thinking of all the ways i could kill everyone at this table. draco clears his throat, finally stepping in.

"annie, let's go to our room. i'm growing very sleepy. come on darling." he takes my hand in his, but i pull back from him.

"are you fucking joking? i will tie your brain stem to your shoe laces, you stupid fucking idiot. god, why are you friends with such brain dead morons? call me crazy again zabini, do it. i dare you. come on, little bitch, do it! i'll kill yo-" draco looks at me again, signaling that he needs me to leave with him.

"what, you can't take being called crazy? astoria didn't know any better! what, are you mental?"

"blaise, enough! i can't believe how fucking childish you're being right now. fucking prick." draco shouts at him, blaise flinching at his harsh words. i'm already halfway across the great hall, taking my plate with me. draco runs to catch up with me, not looking behind himself once.

(12 MINUTES LATER)

"annie, you okay in there? i'm sorry about what blaise said. it was out of hand." draco knocks on the door gently. three knocks. just like mum. i hate when he does that.

i'm crying when draco started knocking on the bathroom door. i quickly wipe my eyes and let myself out. i sit down on the satin green couch.

"i'm completely fine draco. it was my fault. i'm a horrible monster, just like mother said." i state calmly, grabbing my wand polish. draco shakes his head and sits down next to me.

"don't be like that annie. don't try to hide your feelings from me." he takes the wand polish from my hand. i give my attention to him, which i know is what he wanted.

"she didn't deserve that. i know she didn't mean any harm. she's a real sweetheart. i'm just an asshole." i admit, twirling a piece of hair between my fingers.

"you're not an asshole, annie. you can't control it. i know that, they don't."

"that's beside the point. i'm a bad person. that's the truth and it always fucking will be. astoria did nothing wrong." i get up, pacing around the room.

"she triggered you, whether she meant it or not." draco grumbles, pulling his hair loosely.

"it's fine. it's over now. i'm going back to my room." i get up and head out.

"annie, don't go. we need to talk." he mumbles, standing up from his spot on the couch.

"draco there's nothing to talk about. you and astoria are dating, you didn't tell me, and your friends are douches. goodnight." and with that, i'm out of the door, heading to my own room.

(14 MINUTES LATER)

after taking off my school clothes i run a bath for myself. i grab the bath salts i bought from hogsmeade and sprinkle some in. i let the lavender scented salts absorb me completely, taking in the fragrance.

after the water is warm enough, i gently slide into the tub. the water relaxing my tense muscles. a long sigh leaves my mouth as i lather soap onto my body. once i rinse it off, i submerge myself under the water, making my body feel still and peaceful.

peace. something i never get to feel. water is peaceful. so calm and tranquil. maybe if i drown myself, the water will let me be peaceful. that's a good idea. death will make me peaceful. i want it so fucking badly. but i will never will.

[marshmallowprotection]

GALAXY BRAIN IDEA!! Isekai Ghost AU but with Wisteria and Unknown. Like, I've been with Unkniwn for a but and then Lila comes along and she just wakes up to seeing a bunch of bread floating around the room while Unknown is glaring at a space in the air while cursing angrily. (Happens before R*ka cleanses Lila)

You can't remember how you came here but you can say with the utmost amount of certainty and confidence that one moment, you were out and about and the next, wham, you were here in this space with Unknown. Okay, not entirely, he was the first person to recognize you.

You long wandered those halls until he caught sight of you and stared long enough that you knew that he saw you. As it turned out, Unknown as just as you knew him in the game, but he had the ability to see spirits. Which is what you were now, apparently, as he said you were translucent and faded. Did you die? Did you fall into a coma and you were dreaming this?

It wasn't like you could pinch yourself to find out what you were feeling, but, you had to trust what he was saying. You tried to get his attention but he hardly gave it to you, he said he had to work and you knew that work was for the RFA. Why had you found yourself in this universe of all of the places you could be?

It didn't make sense, but had anything ever made sense?

He wasn't all bad. Angry, hurting, lost. He was fully committed to destroying those that his Savior said he needed to, and even though you tried to distract him and convince him otherwise, he went for it. You make a mess and tried to push back, but he ignored you. He got angry and very irritated at you for it, but it wasn't like you had anywhere to go or anywhere else to be; As a matter of fact, he was the only person that could see you and you weren't sure than anyone else could, or if they ever would.

So you were seemingly condemned to be by his side like this, unable to do anything but offer some guidance. Or, cause a little bit of trouble, whatever happened first. After all, what was a ghost without mischief?

That aside, you slowly noticed as he started to get more and more ensnared in his mission to pick a perfect tester and by chance, he found one, an American traveling from abroad who had more or less run off from her family, nobody was going to look for her, and she was a bit of the type to self isolate. It was almost like she was a sitting duck for him.

She was kinda cute, and you were starting to piece together that Unknown had a type. You knew he liked to play into the princess trope but that was firmly cemented when you peered over his shoulder and caught him scrolling through the girl's personal modeling page. You snickered at that, but it was the only thing keeping you from thinking about what would happen to this girl if she didn't go into the apartment or if she did go into the apartment and failed to get experience points with anyone.

Would she get a bad ending?

Could a bad ending even happen when this seemed to be reality? Confusing, but... you had enough to get over on your own. You prayed she would go there, but Unknown grew more and more infatuated with the notion of this girl and he decided she was too good for the RFA. He deserved something good. If she hesitated, he would not get rid of her for it.

Well, your fears were answered when she made a mistake, doubted Unknown, and he simply went and tricked her to meet him. When he returned in due time, with a girl in his arms, your stomach did a flop internally because she wasn't going to be okay. Bad endings were vague for a reason and this one had no answers for you. You waited for a blank screen even though you weren't a character but it didn't come.

This wasn't a game.

And you were really just a... witness.

You were sick to your stomach about it, and took a step back just to observe for a while to see how things would play out. When Lila awoke, she was lost and confused. Unknown swiftly put her into work for him, and she didn't fight him. She had to be scared, but she didn't entirely seem broken as you feared she may be. She took his orders with seriousness but her body trembled. She still gave him kindness, which surprised you, but her tired eyes seemed to know empathy alongside misery.

You knew in your heart, if you still had one, that she was a good person. She seemed acutely in the know that despite Unknown's actions, he was being used too... and he was trying to hide her from his Savior, which struck you as rather odd as well.

If only Unknown wasn't trying to pull her in and then push her away, this might have been your chance to help him get away from this place and fast.

She couldn't see you, you realized, because she stared right through you. So, that couldn't do, and after a week or two of letting things fester over, you decided to bother him again, but he refused to even look at you. You huffed, chucking things in his direction.

Again and again.

"Would you fucking stop it? I told you to move on and leave me alone, you fucking moron! I can't help you. I'm trying to ensure my victory, so get lost!"

Low beknowst to you, Lila had awoken from her nap on the couch, and was staring at the scene with pursed lips. There was no explanation for floating objects, and there was no reason for him to be yelling like this. Was it the elixir? She probably wondered.

"Um..." she murmured. "What's happening?"

Shit.

You and Unknown looked in her direction for a moment. Well, how did one explain this?