#kaga writes

[kagapop]

Are you going to finish neon clock ik it was started a long time ago but i got really invested and have been wanting 😭

UMMMMM I can't say 100% for certain that I won't ever touch it again, because I did have so many ideas for the rest of the story! But I will say that if I do, it DEFINITELY won't be any time soon. I've been very much invested in my own original stories and characters lately, so fanfic hasn't really been a priority, unfortunately.

Thank you for reading it, though! I'm still very proud of a lot of aspects of Neon Clocks, and I met a lot of cool people through writing that fic, so it's nice to know that there are still people who like it even to this day. ; u ;

[sillygooseness]

You Give Me Something To Hold Onto

My greatest pride and joy is finally finished after like a year in my drafts!

Trigger warnings: Alcoholism, Addiction, Mental Health Issues, Relapse,,,, yeah lister relapses :( but it's okay! because it's part of the journey :)

Title is from the song High On You by Sam Fischer and Amy Shark

Jimmy is startled awake by the sudden motion of Lister jolting across the bed, frantically tearing the duvet off of his sweat soaked body in a panic. Jimmy knows exactly what is happening before the sleepy fog clears from his head.

“There’s a bin by your head,” Jimmy croaks, as he hurries to be by his boyfriend’s side. He’s gotten over just in time to grab Lister’s lengthy light brown hair as he doubles over the bin. One hand is pushing the fringe from his forehead, the other holding the long strands behind his neck, letting his nails move soothingly along his skin. They’re both sitting on the side of the bed, Lister clutching the bin like his life depends on it as all of the alcohol and regret comes back up.

“Let it out, you’re okay.” Jimmy moves his hand from his neck down to rub comforting circles on his back. 

As Jimmy continues to hold him, the memories of yesterday come flooding back to him. The panic he and Rowan had felt to their core when Lister had disappeared from the flat, and the jumble of despair and relief that washed over them when they realized Lister had forgotten to turn his phone’s location off so that they quickly saw that he was at the club across town. His old favorite. And they were very much too late. Retrieving him and dragging his severely intoxicated body back home was still a blur, which is probably for the best. Jimmy doesn’t want to relive that anxiety. 

The sound of Lister dry heaving into the trash bin pulls Jimmy right back into the present moment. He’s groaning as his abdomen continues to spasm. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Lister moans repetitively as his muscles begin to calm. He can’t stand the stench as he hovers his face over the bin, but he’s too ashamed of himself to bring his head up to face his boyfriend. He’s let him down, and he doesn’t deserve this care he’s receiving from him. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Jimmy repeats.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be silly, Lis.” 

Jimmy pulls Lister’s head up by his cheeks and grabs a tissue from the bedside table to dab at the corners of his mouth, then the sweat from his forehead before kissing him there. 

Lister can’t meet Jimmy’s eyes. 

“I feel like shit.” A tear falls down Lister’s cheek that seems to open a floodgate as his eyes squint shut and more come pouring down, all of which Jimmy wipes away with his thumbs. “And I’m really dizzy.”

“Here, drink some more water.” Jimmy reaches a hand over to the bedside table to grab the glass he’d left there a few hours before. Lister drinks it all very slowly before shifting back into Jimmy’s embrace.

“Let’s get your teeth brushed and go back to bed. It’s still dark.” Lister nods at this.

Jimmy stands up first, grabbing Lister by his hands and pulling him up with him. He wraps his arms around the taller boy’s waist, walking him to the bathroom. When he turns the bathroom light on, Lister winces, so he turns it back off and sets up his phone’s torch on the counter instead. Jimmy watches him from the door. He finds it hard to keep his eyes open as he leans against the doorframe, and the yawn he finally lets out makes Lister feel even more guilty for causing his boyfriend to be up at this hour. 

Lister dares a glance at the shadow of his own reflection, but he can’t stand to look at the ghost in front of him. He barely gets a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes and the emptiness behind his gaze before quickly diverting his focus back down to the sink as he finishes brushing his teeth. Jimmy notices and spreads his arms wide, eyes still half closed, and opens and closes his palms to gesture for Lister to join his embrace. Of course he obliges, and Jimmy raises to his tiptoes so that he can easily wrap his arms around the taller boy’s shoulders, letting their cheeks brush lightly before burying his head in his boyfriend’s neck. They stand in the doorway holding each other for a long moment, reveling in the safety of their warm embrace that keeps the both of them still before the chaos they both know will ensue tomorrow. Finally, Jimmy begins to walk them back to bed. Once his boyfriend is under the covers, Jimmy grabs the empty cup on the nightstand and the trash bin before disappearing out the door. 

When he reappears with an empty trash bin and full glass of water, Jimmy finds Lister curled up in a ball under the sheets. He crawls in behind him and curls his arm over his abdomen to hold him close. Lister clutches Jimmy’s arm to his chest as if it is his only anchor to reality, so Jimmy pulls him even closer against his chest. Even though Lister is bigger than him, he loves being the big spoon sometimes. It makes him feel like Lister’s protector, especially in this moment.

“Do you hate me now?” Lister asks in the smallest voice he’s ever heard.

Jimmy could cry right there. After everything they’ve been through together, it baffles Jimmy that Lister could still think that’s plausible. “Of course I don’t, darling. I love you. I knew exactly what I signed up for when we started dating.” 

“I know I just-“

“Do you stop loving me when I have panic attacks?” Jimmy interrupts. He doesn’t know where Lister is going with that sentence, but he knows his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

“Of course I don’t.”

“There you are then.” Jimmy states, as if his point is that simple.

“It’s not the same,” Lister insists, still mildly confused about how his incessant alcoholism equates to Jimmy’s panic disorder.

“How is it not the same? You love me through all my anxiety and dysphoria. I love you through your addiction, when you’re sober and when you relapse. We both deal with each other’s shit, that’s the deal.”

“I guess,” Lister sighs as Jimmy kisses the back of his shoulder. “Rowan is mad at me though.”

“Rowan isn’t mad.”

“Yes he is.”

Jimmy begins to move his fingers that are splayed out on Lister’s chest in a soothing motion across his skin. He still can’t really move the rest of his hand because of how tightly it’s being held. That’s fine by him, though.

“I promise you that he’s not. We were both just worried, that’s all. We want you to be safe,” Jimmy squeezes him impossibly tighter against his chest, hoping that Lister can feel his sincerity through his tight hold.

Lister just hums in response and settles himself further into Jimmy’s embrace. Of course he doesn’t believe him, but they could go back and forth until the sun cracks, so he stays quiet. 

They don’t say anything more after that, and Lister can tell that Jimmy has fallen back asleep when his fingers cease their movements on his chest, and he feels Jimmy’s breath slow down against the back of his neck. He is grateful for his dizziness for the moment because if it weren’t for the spinning room rocking him to sleep, he’s sure all of the self-deprecating thoughts echoing around his head would keep him up for at least three days. 

—-

Jimmy is the first to wake back up a few hours later. They’ve both shifted from their original positions, so he turns onto his side to make sure his boyfriend is still sleeping, and frankly, still breathing. He’s relieved to see his chest subtly moving up and down. Tears prick at his eyes as he stares at his boyfriend’s face, reliving the relief at knowing he is safe. Jimmy finds himself worried most of the time, but nothing compared to the distress of not knowing if his boyfriend was safe. Or even alive. Again. He wants to reach out towards his face and just hold him, relish in the feeling of his chest expanding against his, but he knows better than to wake him up. He knows that as soon as Lister wakes up, he’ll be miserable. Not just physically, but he will also be beating himself up for relapsing. This isn’t the first time this has happened since he first decided to get sober, but it is the first time they are going through it as a couple. Jimmy doesn’t think this adds to the stress of the situation, as he’s always loved Lister and cared deeply about his well-being. That feeling just takes up a different space now. And now, he can hold Lister through his hangover, kiss him, tell him he loves him through it all. 

He hasn’t always been good at comforting others during stressful times, but his confidence has grown with Lister. Lister is actually pretty easy. He just needs lots and lots of words of affirmation, as well as lots of cuddles. So that is fully how Jimmy intends to spend their day.

Jimmy is pulled from his train of thought when he notices Lister starting to wake up. Even though the boy’s eyes are still closed, his face twists, and he lets out a groan. 

“You’re okay,” Jimmy whispers, finally reaching his hand forward and stroking Lister’s cheek.  Lister immediately moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with Jimmy’s and keeps the back of his palm against his cheek. Jimmy’s touch on his face is the only thing that feels good right now. 

“I don’t feel okay.”

“What hurts?”

“My head. And my stomach.” Jimmy tries to pull his hand away, but Lister keeps it pressed to his face.

“I’m just grabbing your water and painkillers.”

Lister sighs and lets him go, pulling the sheets up to cover his face. “Can you close the curtains, too, please? It’s too bright.”

Jimmy does just that and when he comes back over to the bed, he rests his hand on Lister’s back to support him into a sitting position. 

“Open,” Jimmy instructs, tapping Lister’s chapped lips with his thumb. He complies, and Jimmy places the pill on his tongue then holds the water to his lips. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” After Jimmy kisses his forehead, Lister eases down so that he is laying on the bed with his head laying in Jimmy’s lap. They’re quiet for a while, Jimmy mindlessly playing with Lister’s hair, but he has so many questions. They have to talk about this.

“Lis,” he starts, and he feels his boyfriend tense in his lap. Maybe from the noise, but maybe because he can sense his serious tone. Jimmy adjusts his volume to a whisper when he continues, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He just shrugs in response. 

“You’ve been so… off. Were you thinking about drinking that whole time? Or was it just impulsive?”

Another shrug.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“If you could tell something was wrong then you could have said something, too,” Lister finally grumbles.

“Would you actually have been honest with me if I had?”

Silence.

Jimmy audibly sighs and rethinks his strategy. This isn’t going anywhere. 

Their relationship is not tumultuous by any means, but communication is still their biggest issue as a couple. Talks like this are still rare since they’d both rather internalize their feelings rather than expose their vulnerability, but now that it’s reached this point, this talk is inevitable. They’ve both been through enough therapy at this point that they both have the tools to have this conversation, so Jimmy is determined to get the truth out of his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Jimmy starts again. “I guess I wanted to think that you would work it out. Or maybe enough cuddles would make our problems go away.”

“If only,” Lister forces out a chuckle, but it quickly triggers the lump in his throat. He’s choking up, but doesn’t want to start crying again, so he starts talking instead. “I just felt so pathetic for even thinking about it after all this time. Like, I should be all fixed, but I’m still this mess. And I still get so worried that you’ll realize it and-” 

“Lister, you’re not- I’m not-”

“But now I’ve made it worse,” he continues to ramble. And he has started to cry. Double whammy.  “And now I have to start this whole fucking sobriety thing all over again, which honestly feels impossible. And I feel even more worthless.”

Jimmy lifts up Lister’s head so that he can shimmy down to lay in front of him on the bed. He grab’s Lister’s face in both of his hands again, letting his thumbs wipe away his tears in a way all too reminiscent of the way he did last night. Lister forces himself to look into Jimmy’s eyes, and when he does, Jimmy’s heart drops. He feels his own eyes well up again because of course they do. Jimmy is the one who cries all the time, not Lister, and seeing him so broken feels so very wrong. 

“You are not worthless. None of this dictates your value as a human being. Doesn’t make you any less kind, or passionate, or brave, or completely lovable. It doesn’t take away your good heart.” He’s gripping Lister’s face firmly now, letting his fingers play with the hairs falling in front of his ears. Lister’s fingers are fidgeting with the hem of Jimmy’s shirt. 

Lister shifts his eyes from Jimmy’s again. He knows Jimmy believes these things about him, but in moments like this it’s almost impossible to think of himself as anything more than terrible inside and out. Jimmy is not having this, though. He ducks his head down to force him to look into his wide eyes. Lister can’t really take the glare seriously though, because he can see right through Jimmy’s own red eyes swelling with tears. It makes him feel worse knowing that he’s in this state because of him. Those big brown eyes will always be Lister’s kryptonite.

“As for me; you know our deal. As soon as you stop trying, that’s when I tap out.”

Lister just nods.

“You have people in your life who want to support you. But you have to let us in so that we can do that.”

“So my therapist tells me,” Lister grumbles.

“When are you seeing her next?”

Lister sniffles while he tries to remember what day it even is today. “Um, in a couple days I think.”

“Good.” 

Lister moves his forehead to rest against Jimmy’s. They just breathe together for a moment. 

“I love you,” Jimmy breaks the silence once more before planting a firm kiss to his lips. Maybe his words are going in one ear and out the other, but he can show his boyfriend how wonderful he is through every spark in his touch. Through every kiss. 

Jimmy only pulls away to place kisses on Lister’s cheek, then his forehead, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Usually when Jimmy does this, Lister’s face would scrunch up in a giggle. It may lead to a tickle fight, more teases, more kisses. Today is different; Lister feels much too nauseas, but the soft pressure on his face does make him forget about his pounding headache for just a moment. 

“I love you so much,” Lister whispers as he leans into his boyfriend’s soft kisses, gently holding onto his biceps. 

“You’d better.”

Lister smiles faintly because Jimmy isn’t usually one for sass. He moves his face ever so slightly so that the kiss meant for the side of his mouth lands right back on his lips, and both of them smile a little bit, before Lister sighs and buries his face in Jimmy’s neck. 

“I’m really knackered today, Jim. Can I pick up with the trying tomorrow?” Lister groans, earning a slight chuckle.

Jimmy responds by planting a single kiss on Lister’s temple, making him scrunch his face up cutely. Jimmy holds his boyfriend gently, bringing his hand up to play with his hair again. There’s a lot left to unpack, but this will do for now. He hopes that Lister will be more honest with his therapist.

“The bin on your side of the bed is clean if you start to feel sick again,” Jimmy reminds Lister gently.

“I think I’m okay for now. Stay tuned, though.” His voice is muted against Jimmy’s skin, and he simply hums in response.

Moments like these are so gentle. Maybe because of how rare they are. If Jimmy is glad for one thing out of all this mess, it’s that this happened during a stretch of days where they don’t really have anywhere to be. Things will pick up soon, though, and they will have to make sure Lister is ready to pretend that nothing ever happened as they embark on a new round of press tours and performances. That’s days away, though, so for now, they can rest.

Their comfortable silence is broken by a knock on the door. Jimmy calls out for Rowan to come in while Lister lets out a guttural, albeit muffled, groan. Rowan opens the door slowly, and Jimmy almost laughs at his wide eyes looking like he’s sussing out the room.

“I just wanted to check in on you, Allister,” Rowan starts slowly, only to receive another loud groan in response, his face still nuzzled into Jimmy’s neck. “Right. Well, I was going to offer to make pancakes. Can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach.”

“You up for a pancake party in bed?” Jimmy nudges him after a beat of silence.

“As long as it’s quiet,” he grumbles.

“Right then. I’ll be back with pancakes.”

Sure enough, Rowan reappears within the hour, somehow balancing three plates of pancakes like some experienced waiter, before handing them off to his friends and shoving his way onto the giant bed.

“I’ll try not to third-wheel too hard,” Rowan teases, earning a swat from Jimmy, who had to reach over a wincing Lister to do so. 

“Thanks for the pancakes, Ro.” Lister mumbles after they’ve eaten their pancakes in silence for a few moments.

Jimmy hums to second the sentiment since his mouth is full of pancake. Rowan simply pats Lister’s leg in response as he munches away at his own plate. It’s quiet for a while as they all eat their breakfast, Lister eating very slowly in an attempt to not throw it all back up. One of them has put on an old 90’s film to play quietly as they eat.

After finally finishing his plate, Lister seems to feel a little more like himself. He decides to make it known by opening his big mouth.

“If I had known that all it would take for a pancake party was to relapse again then-”

“No, Allister!” Rowan exclaims at the same time that Jimmy scolds, “Don’t even joke!”

“Ow, ow, too loud!” Lister whines as he moves his fists- which are still clutching his knife and fork- to protect his ears. “No joking about relapsing, got it.” 

As they quiet down, Jimmy leans over to try to help detangle the bit of syrup that got into Lister’s hair. 

“Seriously, though, I don’t deserve you two. Thank you,” Lister speaks again through little winces when Jimmy accidentally pulls at a clump of hair a bit too hard.

“Would you please quit it with that” Jimmy mumbles with clear exasperation. “He’s been saying this shit for hours, Rowan.”

“I’m serious,” Lister insists. “I’m going to do better this time. I won’t let you down again.”

Jimmy and Rowan share a seemingly telepathic glance, the kind that Lister used to hate.

“I think we both appreciate the sentiment,” Rowan finally responds, “but I seriously don’t think you’ll get very far if you’re only worried about disappointing us. Stay sober for the sake of yourself, yeah?”

Lister just sighs. He doesn’t quite know how to do that. Even after all of this time working on himself. But Jimmy and Rowan have already worried about him enough these last 24 hours, so he decides to just give them what they need to hear for now.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

[greeen-bean]

iwbft fic preview

"Because that was the plan. Lister had feelings for him, Jimmy wanted to have feelings back but didn’t, so have sex with him till they came, no pun intended."

[vague-bisexual-crimes]

The main character of all my iwbft fics isn't actually Jimmy or Lister or Rowan or Angel it's actually insomnia.

Description: This is set slightly after Lister has come home from the hospital and Jimmy and Lister are plagued with insomnia for several different reasons including but not limited to Jimmy's anxiety and Lister's sobriety.

Word count: a little over 2.5k

Rated: G

TWs: canon typical anxiety, nonspecific mentions of withdrawals

Slightly pre-relationship bicci fluff, mostly The Ark fluff, very domestic!

insomniacs 

Jimmy rolls over for the billionth time, pissed at his brain and at his clock that keeps incessantly marking the passing of time. 

He’s been trying to sleep for four hours now. 

First it was that he really wasn’t all that tired. So then he watched TV until his eyes felt heavy, which turned into trying to sleep, which turned into his body refusing to let him sleep, which led to frustration that he wasn’t asleep, and inevitably anxiety over lost sleep.

Jimmy’s brain, everybody. What a wonderful thing to behold. 

He’s going to break something. Or scream. 

Instead he goes to make a cup of tea. 

To Jimmy’s surprise, he is not alone in his 3AM journey to the kitchen. 

Standing folded over the kitchen island, deep bags under his eyes, jaw clenched, hands clasped so tight together that his knuckles were white, was Lister. 

Jimmy is torn trying to decide a way announce his presence as to not scare the shit out of Lister who’s eyes are glued to the counter while also not initiating any kind of conversation that would lead to Lister asking him why he’s up so late (so early?). Before Jimmy can decide how to do this, Lister’s eyes break away from the countertop and land on him.

“Jimmy!” Lister stands up slightly straighter at the realization that he’s no longer alone in the kitchen, but his hands are still gripped together like he’ll die if he lets go. He sounds like he’s been crying but he doesn’t look it. 

Jimmy gives a halfhearted smile to Lister as he turns the teapot on. Jimmy runs a hand over his face, the sleeplessness catching up to him before the night is even over. 

Jimmy looks at Lister properly and he finally registers exactly how strange Lister is behaving. “You alright?” 

“Peachy,” he says in his Lister Bird voice, the same way he would cheekily reply to a fan or an interviewer who he found particularly boring. It felt wrong in their kitchen. 

Jimmy wraps his arms around himself, the kitchen is always colder than the rest of the apartment. “Yeah?”

“Can’t sleep?” Lister asks instead. 

Jimmy frowns but answers. “God forbid. I’ll be asleep on the couch by afternoon and up at this time tomorrow.”

“At least it’s pretty at night.” Lister says, sounding more like Lister, Jimmy’s best friend rather than Lister, Calvin Klein model. 

Jimmy scrunches his face up. “I hate nighttime. Nothing ever feels real at night and yet everything feels too real.”

“I’ve always loved it. No parents to tell me what to do, no fans to ask for pictures. Just my own little world inside the apartment.”

Jimmy wishes he shared the sentiment. 

“What’s keeping you up?” Lister asks. 

It’s not always something, more often than not it’s nothing, tonight it’s a bit more complicated than that. 

“At first I just couldn’t sleep, and then I convinced myself that the apartment is empty and I’m alone and this is actually a nightmare and I’m just waiting for the bad thing to happen and I know it’s not going to happen but I’m stuck waiting for the other shoe to drop until morning.” He fights to keep his voice level and for the most part he does, but his heart is beating too fast in his chest. 

“I’m here,” Lister says. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Maybe he hasn’t. 

“Why’re you up?” Jimmy asks. 

Lister sort of rolls his eyes and shrugs, his face torn between resentment and exhaustion. “Why am I not up?” Lister answers.

Jimmy catches Lister’s eyes for a moment but not before Lister casts them back down to the counter. “I haven’t really slept since I came home from the hospital.” 

Neither had Jimmy. He didn’t say as much. 

“Have you slept at all tonight?” Jimmy asks instead. 

Lister shakes his head. “I’ve given up on trying. A bit of me is hoping the exhaustion will catch up to me and I’ll just magically fall asleep one of these nights.” 

“Or you’ll fuck up your sleep schedule and stress out your body more.” 

“My sleep schedules always been fucked.” Lister ignores the latter comment. 

Jimmy makes his tea and offers Lister some, who declines. 

“Keep me company while we don’t sleep?” Jimmy asks. 

Lister smiles, it’s small and directly contrasts the bags under his eyes, but it’s genuine. “‘Course,” 

They end up in Jimmy’s room, the TV playing quietly in the background so as to not wake Rowan who had gone to bed at ten. 

The light is off, casting the two of them in the faint light of the TV as they sit side by side on Jimmy’s bed, legs under the covers. Jimmy’s holding his cup of hardly drank tea and Lister is holding a pillow against his chest, his head resting against the wall. 

“Did you know that screens are bad for falling asleep?” Lister says when Jimmy picks up his phone. 

“Fuck off.” Jimmy says though he isn’t really upset. God, he’s tired. 

“No, I mean I’ve been reading about sleeping and insomnia and shit—it’s all a lie none of it works—but the light keeps you awake.” Lister says. 

Jimmy locks his phone and watches TV for a few minutes. “Did you ever have a normal sleep schedule? When we were teenagers, I mean, before the band.” 

“No. And we’re still teenagers.” Lister says, turning to glance at Jimmy. 

“We haven’t been teenagers for years.” Jimmy says. 

“Amen,” Lister amends. “Did you?” 

“Not since I was a little kid.” 

They sit in comfortable silence for a while. Jimmy feels like he might possibly feel like he can fall asleep in a few more hours. 

“Do you ever wish we were never famous?” Lister asks. 

“Yes,” Jimmy answers with little hesitation. 

“Do you think we’d all be friends if it weren’t for the band?” 

“It’s hard to imagine a world where we aren’t.” Jimmy admits. “You and Rowan are the only reason I haven’t gone entirely off the rails.” 

“Only mostly,” Lister says. 

“Fuck off.” Jimmy smiles slightly. “Neither of us are entirely on the rails.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on the rails.” 

Jimmy lets out a small laugh, like music in the quiet of the dark room. “That makes two of us.” 

Jimmy’s silent for a few beats before he asks. “Do you ever wish we were never famous?” Lister has always enjoyed fame. The drumming, the attention, the money, it’s all things he loves. Or maybe it isn’t. Lately Jimmy’s been realizing how little he actually knows about Lister. 

He thinks for a moment. “I wish things happened differently.” Another moment. “I wish we were older, I think. Like maybe if the fame was starting now we’d be more ready for it than we were.” 

“We weren’t ready for shit back then.” Jimmy says. “It’s a bit of a miracle we didn’t get more fucked over than we did.” 

“That’s probably true.” 

Jimmy is riding the line between still awake and so tired he’s about to start seeing things when his phone buzzes. 

Rowan: Are you awake? 

Jimmy: And Lister. We’re in my room 

“What’s that?” Lister asks, not moving his eyes from the point on the ceiling he’s been looking at for twenty minutes. 

“Rowan’s asking if I was up.” 

“God, what is it four in the morning, why’s Rowan up?” 

A second later there’s a soft knock and Rowan is pushing the door open before anyone replies. 

“Is this the insomniac room?” Rowan asks, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his glasses abandoned. 

“You’ve caught our disease.” Lister says as Rowan climbs on the bed to the other side of Jimmy. He wraps an arm around Rowan who rests his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy’s eyes close. 

“I can’t sleep either but I don’t get cuddles.” Lister whines. 

Jimmy opens his other arm without opening his eyes. “C’mon then,” Jimmy’s about to open his eyes to glare at Lister when he feels him scoot across the mattress and rest his head against Jimmy’s chest, one arm reaching around Jimmy’s back, the other coming to rest on Rowan’s bicep. Jimmy’s cheek comes to rest on the top of Lister’s head, he smells like sandalwood and spices and that kind of vaguely masculine scent that they put in men’s perfume. 

Jimmy can’t recall when any of them falls asleep, he just recalls the sense of calm that falls over the room as his two best friends cling and nuzzle against him like kittens and waking up the next morning to the three of them tangled together like three balls of yarn. 

Rowan’s insomnia is a one off case, he sleeps the next night in his own room with ease, Jimmy and Lister, however, are still cursed. 

They meet earlier this time, having both sat in the living room sometime in the early evening and migrating to Jimmy’s room around eleven. 

Jimmy turn’s the TV on again and rests his head on Lister’s shoulder as he watches it. Lister is stiff for a moment before he puts his head on top of Jimmy’s and puts an arm around him. It’s still late when they fall asleep but it’s before 5AM and Jimmy hasn’t felt so well rested in weeks. 

This quickly becomes a routine, Jimmy’s not sure if it’s the presence of someone else or the cuddles that soothes his racing mind, but it does, so he tries not to look too deep into it and takes all the sleep he can get. 

After a few weeks of this the bags on Lister’s eyes begin to fade slightly and some life comes back to him. 

Jimmy supposes he looks less ill than normal but he tries not to pay enough attention to his appearance to notice such things. 

It’s Rowan who brings it up to Jimmy, one afternoon where Jimmy is sitting on Rowan’s floor while Rowan fiddles around on his guitar. 

“Have you been sleeping? You look better than you’ve been.” If anyone else had said this to Jimmy he may have taken offense, but it's Rowan, so he doesn't.

“Do I?” Jimmy asks. 

“You do.” Rowan says, wincing at an out of tune string. 

“Lister’s been sleeping in my room.” Jimmy says picking up one of Rowan’s other guitars and tuning it along with Rowan. “It’s helpful, having something living in the same room, I guess.” 

Rowan hums but doesn’t look up, his twists hanging in his face as he strums a chord. 

“He looks better, too,” Rowan says. 

Rowan shows Jimmy the songs he’s been writing against the advice of all of their therapists, but Jimmy’s not sure it counts when he’s just writing for himself and not the band. It’s a different sound than he’s used to from Rowan, but he really likes it, it feels like Rowan. 

Jimmy hasn’t written any lyrics in so long, he still needs some time to separate writing from The Ark, every time he sits down to write he worries it’s not good enough, that people will hate it. He’s been advised to not write for other people and just write for himself but he’s finding it difficult. Rowan’s always been a writer though, it would be strange if he stopped. 

Jimmy’s not sure his life has ever been so eventless, even before the band. The apartment is quiet and with each passing day Jimmy realizes how big it is for the three of them. He wishes, not for the first time, that they would move out of London. It’s been discussed, but it was decided that it would be worse for the three of them to uproot their lives anymore than they have, so they stay in the London flat. 

Lister’s doing better, the withdrawals are noticeable to Jimmy and Rowan but they don’t comment. He hardly ever talks about it, but when he does it’s almost always the day after he has therapy and he still never says much. The two of them are there for Lister and Lister knows that, and that’s enough most of the time. 

It’s three months later when the topic of moving comes up again, to Jimmy’s excitement. 

It’s a Sunday morning, Jimmy and Lister have been up for a few hours but Rowan has recently joined them, perched on the foot of Jimmy’s bed, legs crossed, glasses hanging on the neck of his shirt. 

“I’m sick of this apartment.” Rowan says. “Too…much has happened here.” 

“We should get out of London while we’re at it.” Jimmy adds. 

“We can’t move back to Kent.” Rowan says.

“Just out of London.” Lister seconds. 

“Have you talked to Cecily? She’s not gonna like us being outside London.” Jimmy asks. 

“I don’t really care about how convenient where we live is to anyone else. And Cecily said it was fine as long as we didn’t move more than an hour's car ride away unless we want to have to fly into London every time we do pretty much anything.”

“That sounds perfect.” 

Despite having moved out of their family’s houses years ago, they are utterly useless at looking for somewhere to live. 

Cecily, Bliss, Pierro, and Rowan’s sister Jade are all called about the matter. Bliss and Rowan’s sister aren’t entirely sure how they’re supposed to help but they both send a few listings to Rowan. Pierro hasn’t bought a house since before Jimmy was alive so he isn’t much more help. Cecily takes it upon herself to find the boys a house close enough to London that she doesn’t go insane, and far enough from London that the boys didn’t go insane. 

Cecily is surprisingly fruitful in her search and presents them with several options. In the end, it boils down to the one that is midway between London and Kent. 

“We have too much shit!” Lister declares as he finishes taping a box shut and sits on top of it. 

“Sounds like a you problem, mate, I’ve almost got all my stuff packed.” Rowan calls from down the hall. 

“Piss off, you have Bliss helping you!” Lister calls back. 

By the time they’ve moved into their new house, Jimmy has sworn off ever moving again and told Rowan and Lister they can never get sick of this house because he is never packing up all their shit again. 

It’s smaller than the London flat was, still bigger than the three of them necessarily need. 6 bedrooms, one for each of them, one to be turned into a studio, and two spare bedrooms. Bliss helps them move and resigns herself to one of the spare bedrooms as soon as all of their boxes are inside. 

Jimmy's given up on unpacking the rest of his room that night and flops down on his bed, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. A knock comes on Jimmy’s door and he jumps a bit, he sits up to lean against his headboard, and in a shaky voice says, “Yeah?” 

Rowan pushes the door open and lays down, putting his head in Jimmy’s lap. “I’m too tired to unpack tonight but my room feels too clinical without any of my stuff.” 

Jimmy hums in agreement and rests a hand on Rowan’s head. Rowan doses off after a little while, but before Jimmy can there’s another knock. “Yeah?” 

This time it’s Lister, in boxers and a hoodie that almost swallows him whole. “Welcome to the sleepover,” Jimmy’s voice drips with sarcasm, though he’s secretly glad that he doesn’t have to spend the first night in their new house on his own.

“Can't believe I didn’t get the invite.” Lister says, laying his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. 

“I think you’ve just got a standing invite at this point.” Jimmy answers, resting his head on top of Lister’s like he so often does. 

“Even better.” Lister says and it doesn’t take much longer before they’re both asleep.

[listerbirdloml]

Double Vison in Rose Blush

Summary: Jimmy is confused. His opinions on mullets have changed, and he has a new favourite Brooklyn Nine Nine episode.

Characters: Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Alister 'Lister' Bird, Rowan Omondi, Angel Rahimi (very briefly), A random man I made up

Warnings: strong language (surprise surprise), slight self deprecation, VERY brief mentions to past alcoholism, someone who knows NOTHING about dance trying to write about dance

Ship: Bicci

Word Count: 3.3k

just me being silly and goofy once again

Since turning fourteen, and then fifteen, then sixteen and seventeen, eighteen, and now nineteen, Jimmy Kaga-Ricci has learned a few things.

Number one. One day, Granddad was going to die. And he had to accept that.

Number two. Being famous is not as fun as he thought it would be.

Number three. Skinny jeans maybe are a bit millennial now.

And number four. Lister Bird was hot.

 

Lister Bird, who fell into the filthy Rochester river when they were fifteen. Lister Bird, who once licked a lamppost on Oxford Street because Rowan dared him. Lister Bird who watched the note book at sixteen and wept for hours. Lister Bird, who refuses to wear trousers unless absolutely crucial, and Lister Bird, who sometimes bites his toenails (The worst crime out of all of these, Jimmy thought.)

He was hot. worldly renowned for it, in fact.

It was entirely unfair. No one could be that effortlessly attractive. If given a YouTube video and twenty minutes, Lister could learn any skill known to man. Be it guitar, dance, or even knitting for a week (Jimmy still had the scarf he’d been gifted), Lister was brilliant. But he was also real. He wasn’t perfect all the time, and he didn’t even try to pretend that he was. He was a recovering alcoholic with repressed mummy issues. He just so happened to have the face of Adonis and the body to match it.

It just didn’t seem to make sense to Jimmy, but after coming across his Calvin Kelvin photoshoot the other week, and this week watching the video Lister was featured in from Centurion Dance Complex (the studio in London he often attended. The fans took months to recover from those videos, and now, it would seem, Jimmy did too), it did. It made perfect sense to him.

In the video, Lister was wearing a crop top with a stupid slogan about riding cowboys that he had kept repeating as of recent, and some joggers. Nothing that significant. His hair wasn’t particularly note-worthy; it was just slightly messier than normal due to the exertion. There was a group of people involved in this dance, but Lister and another guy around their age seemed to be the main pair. The song sounded like a Eurovision judges wet dream, and Lister and the other dancer performed it just as well as Jimmy expected from the multi-talented drummer and the professional.

There was only one thing that bothered Jimmy.

It was hot. Really hot.

The song itself was suggestive, and the lyrics were definitely not ones Jimmy would show to his Grandad. But the dance was worse in a way. The other guy (Finn? Flynn? Jimmy couldn’t quite remember), was shorter than Lister, reaching his shoulder in a way similar to Jimmy. His hair was a dark brown, and his skin tone a light olive. The way that he and Lister managed to move together made Jimmy wonder if perhaps they’d been together at some point.

But then, memories of his conversation with Lister from Week-From-Hell-We-Can-No-Longer-In-Good-Conscience-Discuss put a stop to that thought process. It was true; Rowan and Jimmy had truly misjudged their best friend. That wasn’t even to mention the heavy undertones of biphobia in their assumptions. They knew Lister Bird was bisexual, and they knew he enjoyed partying. And therefore, they had begun to assume that was all he was. Some slutty bisexual who slept with anyone who caught their eye. Jimmy had truly been a terrible friend.

Something in his gut felt fuzzy as he watched Lister so gracefully follow the rhythm of the song and coordinate with those around him. Finn (or Flynn) maintained eye contact with the drummer as they both backed up, some of the backup dancers performing their own choreography. Once they were done, Lister was front and centre once again. While Jimmy couldn’t exactly comprehend what the blonde was doing as he danced, he knew he liked it. A lot. If there were accidents or missteps, Jimmy wasn’t informed enough about the art of dance to register them.

At one point, with a hand on Flynn's (Finns?) chest, Lister stood behind him, guiding their hips to sway to the music as their chests rose and fell. Flynn/Finn wraps an arm around Listers neck, and the blonde uses it to twirl them into the next part of the dance, a hand on the small of his back that splays the entire width. Staring at them like that though, standing still for the microsecond they were, Jimmy couldn’t help but imagine it was him there. Dancing in a downright dirty way with Lister, hands never leaving one another for longer than a few moments. The other dancer did look a little bit like him, stature-wise. But Jimmy had to admit that he was definitely more attractive than himself. He was all bright skin and happy eyes, while Jimmy was eye bags and moody frowns.

In the final part of the song, Lister has the other dancer lifted in the air with arms around his thighs, the camera operator coming in closer and managing to capture the slight bulge of Lister's arms from the exertion, the slight sweat clinging to his skin, and the way his chest moved up and down in his heavy breaths. His face was serious, but as the music cuts out and the audio of the music fades into the raw studio audio, he breaks into a grin as claps erupt around him. The video ends with Lister setting the guy down carefully and accepting a bottle of water.

Oh god. If the photo shoot was bad, this was terrible. Downright evil behaviour from the drummer.

"Jim?"

With a startled shout, Jimmy slammed down his laptop, pulling his headphones down and looking up.

"I was watching porn!"

Oh. god.

There was silence from Lister, who had unknowingly interrupted an awakening caused by himself. He seemed unable to piece the right words together, licking his lips a few times. Okay, well, uh, the foods here." With that, Lister headed out of the living room and back to the hallway, likely going to his room.

"That was..." It was Rowan this time, who stood in the adjoining kitchen, face mere moments away from cracking. "Well, you definitely seem innocent now." Bastard. He was enjoying this.

Jimmy groaned, sliding further into the couch and covering his face. Rowan laughed at this, his phone in his hand as he texted someone. Likely bliss to tell her of his mortifying attempt at being caught watching Lister dance.

Lister was back now, phone in hand and a quarter zip covering his upper body. He happily dug around in the bag of food until he found his order of chicken chow mien and joined Jimmy on the couch, holding another container.

"Sweet and sour, for a sour guy." Lister grinned, setting down the takeaway container on the table in front of Jimmy and turning on Netflix. Brooklyn Nine Nine, obviously. Jimmy's face was still crimson as he picked up the food, and the cutlery Lister offered him. Sitting this close to Lister before wouldn’t have bothered him before. Maybe if he was biting his toe nails. But now, sitting next to the drummer made Jimmy want to throw up. Their legs were so close; Listers pale but thick thigh was only centimetres away from Jimmys tanned and slimmer ones, and every time the blonde laughed at the TV or Rowans commentary, Jimmy felt the heat grow closer and closer.

Okay. He was definitely fucked.

"For the love of God, cut it."

"No, it’s in style."

"Is it really, Alister? Really?"

"Don’t patronise me, Rowathon." No matter how fit Jimmy had come to understand Lister was, he was still annoying.

"Im not. Im just saying, Mullets haven’t been in style since, like, my dad had one."

"You don’t get it. Im bisexual."

"What the fuck? What the fuck does that even mean?"

"JimJam, for the love of God, help me out here."

Sighing as he was forcefully pulled into this argument between his two band members, he put his phone in his pocket. "It's like his uniform, Rowan."

"Thank you!" Lister sighed appreciatively, looking at Jimmy in the mirror. They were all in the main bathroom of the flat, Jimmy sitting on a small stool they kept in there for ‘boy time’ which Lister had dubbed Jimmy's T injections. Meanwhile, Lister stood over Rowan, applying bleach to his hair. How they got cecily to agree to that Jimmy had no idea. They were planning on dying it pink, as Rowan wanted to match his older sister's new braids. But somehow they had began to argue about the mullet Lister had begun to grow. Rowan hated it, repeatedly calling it the lowest point white boys have ever reached. Lister loved it. He constantly cited drummers like Roger Taylor from Queen because he was, quote, "trying to harness their energy through hair."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Rowan sounded about at his limit.

"It means that he has a mullet, he has patchwork tattoos, he likes flares, and he dresses like a cowboy. It’s a thing."

"At least one of you hoes get me." Lister winked at Jimmy, and the nineteen-year-old couldn’t help the feelings of butterflies not only fluttering in his stomach but also attempting to break free. If this was how their fans felt about them, then honestly, Jimmy felt like he understood their mania. Well, a little, at least.

"God, I hate gay people." Jimmy and Lister laughed at that, with Lister poking his tongue out at Rowan through the mirror.

“Okay, fine, do your own hair." Lister put down the applicator and held his hands up.

"Oh, fuck off. Finish it."

"That doesn’t sound like a please or thank you, Ro-Ro." The glare that Rowan levelled Lister with through the mirror was enough for him to pick the brush back up.

As he worked away again, Jimmy disconnected from their conversation. He opened his phone again and opened his messages with Angel. He hadn’t told the others that he still spoke to her, in fear of how Rowan would react. He wasn’t exactly her biggest fan.

JimJam

Okay so here’s a hypothetical question

Angel

oh goodie

my favourite

 

JimJam

Ikr

So if a white boy is growing a mullet and it doesn’t immediately repulse you

What does that mean??

 

Angel

it means your heart has been colonised

 

JimJam

Hilarious for that one

No but like is that the true sign of love??

I’m looking at this like dammm and not boo tomato tomato

 

Angel

tomato tomato?? stop hanging around lister istg

also yeah youre like in love with lister we get it old news

did it seriously take a mullet for you to realise this??

 

JimJam

Blocked.

 

"Who you texting, Jimothy?" It was lister, and he was once again looking at him in the mirror.

"Your mum." Jimmy replied, watching as Listers face fell into mock hurt.

"Rude."

"I bet he has a boyfriend." Rowan teased, holding the towel around his shoulders tighter.

Lister looked up at that, and Jimmy was sure he could see Lister swallow, mouth no longer a relaxed smile, and now a more tense straight line. Before, Jimmy would ignore things like this. After the bathroom incident, he would’ve seen it for the obvious signs Lister at some point liked him. Now, he thought it was hot. Really fucking hot.

"Just Grandad. He was telling me we were the answer to his crossword earlier." Jimmy lied smoothly, now scrolling through his secret Twitter. It had zero links to him or the band, and he’d even blocked all mentions of himself or Rowan on it. Lister, however, well he followed several different accounts about Lister.

@/lister-bird-as-cats

@/listerbirdhourly

@/listerbirdupdates

@/birdedits

 

Was it weird? Absolutely. Was it the very thing he critiqued their own fans for? Yes. Was he ashamed, guilty, even? of course. Did he want to stop?

 

No.

The lights in the living room were set to the lowest setting, the large-screened TV creating more lights than anything else. Lister was sitting on the couch, mindlessly nibbling the tip of his thumb as he watched the Brooklyn 99 episode play in front of him. Every so often, he would pick up his phone next to him and answer a text, like a tweet, taking a picture of the screen and posting it to his story. Just mindlessly enjoying his spare time.

Jimmy only knew this because he’d been standing in the doorway for the last twenty minutes, hemming and hawing at the idea of making his presence known. In one option, he could announce himself. Join Lister on the couch. Perhaps they could share the blanket Lister had wrapped around his shoulders. Jimmy could squeeze in close to the drummer, lie his head on his chest, and listen to the heart he loved the most in the world create beautiful patterns that sounded like hymns. They could hold each other close, skin melting together in a way that wasn’t proper for two people who only called one another friends.

 

But in some way, he felt he didn’t deserve it. It might not have been his fault that he wasn’t aware of his feelings for Lister until recently, but he didn’t feel any less guilty over it. The blonde had spent so many years harbouring this secret from the rest of the world, only to have it drunkenly spilled in a bathroom with a kiss to an unreciprocated friend. He didn’t want to even imagine the shame Lister must have felt after that. The need to open another bottle and attempt to erase it from memory to be able to sanely move on with day-to-day life. Jimmy felt it was insensitive to then go, 'haha, oops! Turns out I actually do like you!’

"JimJam."

It would seem Lister had made the decision for him. The drummer had turned his body around, his arm leaning on the back of the couch, so that he could get a better view of the singer wordlessly occupying the doorway. His hair was a mess, and if Jimmy focused on it, he could see the darkness of a five o’clock shadow ghosting the drummer's cheeks and chin. Jimmy couldn’t help but think this was Lister at his most beautiful. Unguarded and at rest.

"You sitting down or what?"

Nowadays, saying no to Lister is incredibly difficult for Jimmy.

Shuffling farther into the room, hands wringing one another, Jimmy sat down on the far end of the couch, lister staring at him with what seemed to be fond confusion over the wide gap. Jimmy tried not to turn his head to lister fully in fear of the foolish things his impulse control might let slip. If he looked at golden hair and sapphire eyes while feeling as weak as he did in that very moment, he very well may have pounced on the unsuspecting drummer.

They sat in silence for an episode, watching as another loaded on the screen.

HalloVeen. Listers favourite.

The drummer sat up in his chair slightly, resting his elbow on the armrest and his head on his fists. He sighs through his nose, and Jimmy can’t help but stare at his lips. They’re slightly cracked, the drummer not drinking enough water. The episode plays on, with Lister huffing laughs from his nose at his favourite parts.

"I need a Jake and Amy kind of love." The drummer says mindlessly. He pulls a face for a moment before turning to Jimmy. "Uhh, I mean, you know… someday... with someone... who definitely isn’t you." It was obvious the drummer was scared about the possibility of Jimmy thinking he was coming onto him. Worried that there would be more rejection and more uncomfortableness. Nethertheless it still hurt.

Jimmy glances at him, at the worry of his thumb scratching his hands and the way he pulls the blanket tighter around himself.

No one speaks for a moment or so. And then,

"Lister, I-"

"Look Jim-"

Jake's hand is handcuffed to a filing cabinet. There’s quiet for another moment, and when Jimmy finds himself breaking it, he is most surprised.

“you go."

Lister laughed a little bit, glancing around nervously and coughing into his elbow in a manner more likely attributed to nerves than anything in his throat. He turns to face Jimmy properly.

"I uh, I promise I don’t like you anymore."

Huh?

Jimmy shook his head, trying to conjure up the right words. Words that aren’t screaming. Screams of his missed chance. Of the admiration he took for granted and used as a personal ego boost. He took too long to come to terms with his feelings. his undecided heart taking longer than he had been given time for, and now he was too late. He’d missed his opening and his chance of happiness at Listers side. Lister was speaking again.

"Yeah, yeah I promise. It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable between us anymore. We can just go back to being friends."

"Lister."

"I mean, I can’t promise that feelings are, like, absolutely gone. I'm only human, and i’ve liked- I liked you since we were like thirteen, and that's a long time for feelings to-"

Jimmy didn’t even really register the fact that his body was moving. But now that he could feel the hair in his hands and lips on his own, he realised that his muscles likely had something to do with that. His eyes are tightly shut, terrified that this would become a dream should he open them.

There’s a handmaid circling the precinct on TV. Jimmy is kissing Lister, and Lister is kissing back.

The drummer is the first to pull back, looking at Jimmy in a way that makes the singer's breath stutter in time with his heart. His eyes are wide, and his pupils are slightly blown. Blue eyes are jumping between dark brown eyes and light brown lips, seemingly unsure of which he wanted to pay attention to at the moment.

"I don’t want you to be over me." Jimmy finally manages to say, closing his eyes again and resting his forehead against Listers. The drummer's large hands are still resting on Jimmy's bicep, where they have landed in his shock at being kissed. Jimmy's own were still settled amongst long, mousey waves.

Lister doesn’t seem to be able to form words, but he leans back in and kisses the singer for another time. Everything is different from their first time, and yet it’s entirely the same. They’re at home instead of a bathroom for a concert they don’t want to play. They’re in their comfortable pyjamas rather than performative stage clothes. Jimmy isn’t worried about makeup smudging on his or Listers chin. Jimmy isn’t hanging on by a thread, and Lister isn’t drunk.

This time, when the two separate, Jimmy moves his hand to instead cradle the soft skin of Lister's cheek.


Lister won’t speak just yet; maybe shock. Maybe distress. Maybe disgust. Or perhaps anger. justified anger towards Jimmy for unknowingly leading him on for five years, then brushing off the confession of love he received, and then changing his mind and deciding he too had feelings.

Jake and Amy are standing in an evidence room, and Lister and Jimmy are sitting on a couch.

"I know it’s selfish. I’m sorry. I really am, Lis. I know it took me some time, but I’m here now." Lister still looks like he can’t believe his luck, and they both extend him the curtosey of pretending not to see tears wetting his lash line. "I like you, Lister."

Lister lets out a chuckle that sounds like it was stuck in his throat. “Well, that's good. I was absolutely lying about being over you."

Jake is down on one knee, and Lister is kissing Jimmy.

[sukimas]

those who slither in the dark fucking wish they could get the attention and nuance in writing that the loptr church did in fe4 alone. which is just insane honestly.

"oh but three houses has unreliable narration-" my friend what do you think forseti is. you think the world's #1 dad is a source of objective facts? the guy tells you all earth dragons are the devil in the final chapter during a period of time where medeus is helping the divine dragons out. it's just lmao.

[wooahaes]

wonwoo needs to post more book recommendations bc so far ive read two books by higashino and fucking loved both of them

[isara0408]

A little moment between Megami and Kaga's father. I wrote this a long time ago, but I didn't post it because I thought it would be cringed, but here you go (I have a headcanon that Azuma is Kaga's father. Azuma was the president of the science club in 1989. We don't know much about his parents, so he'll be the replacement for now, lol)

Megami stared over at her boyfriend, who was leaning against her arm, sleeping peacefully. The couple were sharing a blanket, sitting down on the couch, and watching a movie while being in the house of Kaga's parents. It was the day of Kaga spending time with his parents, considering it was the weekend. Kaga wanted Megami to tag along and enjoy some family time with his parents. Megami didn't mind.

Kaga's mother was upstairs, and Kaga's father, Azuma, was in the kitchen doing the dishes after a nice dinner the four had together.

Megami leaned against Kaga with a soft smile. In the background, Azuma stared at the couple sitting on the couch of his living room. He washed the soap off of his hands and turned off the running water. With a towel, he dried his hands, keeping his eyes on the couple. Azuma placed the towel down on the counter and slowly made their way towards the couple.

Megami focused on her boyfriend. Kaga snuggled closer to Megami's body and held onto the blanket. They were both covered. Megami's smile grew wider before feeling the presence of someone standing behind her. Azuma spoke, breaking the silence,"It was an honor to have you here, Miss Saikou."

"Please. Don't call me that. You can call me Megami, Mr. Kusha."Megami spoke.

"Sorry, I got used to it." Azuma apologized with a smile. Megami glanced over to look at Kaga's father,"No need to apologize. I understand. Thank you for having me." Azuma kept his smile on his lips,"I'm surprised you came. Are you sure your father won't be upset with you?"

"No. It was my choice. He can't decide what I do with or for my lover. He can't decide either on who I marry."Megami responded. The last word that escaped Megami's mouth caught the attention of Azuma. His eyes widened,"Marry? Are you planning to marry Kaga in the future?"

Megami remained quiet, thinking and opening her mouth,"Well, maybe. We are still in Akademi. I still have to focus on my training, and Kaga has to focus on his future after Akademi. He is graduating this year. I don't want to get in the way of that. In addition to that, I need to get the consent of you and your wife, Mr. Kusha. He is your only son. Your pride and joy, right?"

Azuma glanced over at the sleeping Kaga next to Megami. He nodded,"Yeah. We'll do anything for him. Even if he's an adult, he will always be our little boy."

Megami stared at Azuma,"Always?"

"Of course. He's our pride and joy. He will always be. We will always be there for him, cheer him on, and always be there if he needs us. He makes us proud."

"What if he fails? Will you disown him?"Megami questioned. Azuma glanced over at Megami,"No. If he fails, we'll help him succeed even if he fails over and over. We'll help him. We have always been by his side. Every time he failed something, we encouraged him to take it as a way to improve himself and learn from his mistakes. Just because he failed doesn't mean we won't see him as a son anymore. He will always be our son no matter what. We are proud of him. More than you think."

Megami stared at him, processing his answer. Her gaze lowered,"Proud..."Megami mumbled to herself. Did she ever hear that word coming from her father? No. Her mother? Maybe, but must have ignored her when she did. Did she ever hear her father say that he will always be by her side? No. Did her father ever cheer for her? Encouraged her? No. Did he ever say that Megami was his pride and joy? No. He never did.

"We care about him. We love him to pieces. He is an adult now, but we are always ready to welcome him with open arms. That also counts you, Megami,"Azuma smiled at the young woman. Megami snapped out of her train of thought and looked at Kaga's father again. Azuma continued,"I'm glad my son found someone to experience love with. Honestly, my wife and I thought he would be single forever, but we were wrong. I know you were raised differently than Kaga. I just hope that you will treat him well. I don't want Kaga to experience being heartbroken. I'm not really sure how he will handle it, but we don't want to see it. Now that you're dating Kaga, you're part of the family. We'll be there with open arms if you need anything. You're an amazing kid. You have a lot of potential, and I'm sure you will be an amazing CEO for Saikou Corp. We are proud of you. I'm sure Kaga is too."

For a moment, Megami's cold heart melted at the kind words of her future father-in-law. A small smile formed on her lips,"Thank you."

"No need to thank me, Megami. You deserve it. My wife and I already see you as our daughter. You have a place here if you need to be away from your family or the Corp. Most importantly, you have a new pair of parents here to cheer you on if you need it. We'll be here for you."Azuma smiled brightly at his son's girlfriend. Megami gave him a small nod.

Azuma was able to lean in to place a peck on Megami's head, but stopped himself,"May I...?"

Megami nodded,"Go ahead."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against Megami's head, giving her a peck. He pulled away,"Thank you for making our son happy. We are glad to have you part of the family, Megami. We can't wait to have you again with us. Remember, you have family here. Don't hesitate to come to us if you need anything." He flashed her a smile again before walking off upstairs. Megami watched Kaga's father making his way upstairs.

Megami glanced down at her lap, repeating the words that Kaga's father said over and over. The more the words repeated through her mind, the more she felt her eyes be crowded up with tears. Some tears escaped the corner of her eyes, gripping onto the blanket.

The largest smile formed on her lips as the tears continued to escape her eyes and fall onto the blanket. She glanced over at Kaga, who was still sleeping. She leaned against her lover and pressed her head against the top of Kaga's head, keeping the smile on her lips.

[until-the-brahmin-come-home]

Kaga slipped, lost his footing, and that was it. It was over.

He collapsed on the sands and lay there, panting. Any attempt to move failed, his power armor whirring and clicking in distress; Alexandria must have hit some vital components. The woman herself loomed over him; she, too, was clad in power armor, although she had forgone the helmet. Her wild mane of hair probably wouldn’t fit under it.

Alexandria had managed to slip her spear into a few gaps in his armor; the wounds spiked painfully in time with his heartbeat.

Stupid. Why had he ever even tried? What chance did he have against the golden child, Arroyo’s perfect, precious, Chosen One?

He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

And waited.

And waited.

There was a shuffling noise, and then a heavy thump. He cracked open one eye and peered at his sister, who was now sitting at his side. She wore an unreadable expression.

Fuck. They had been close, once. So much so that it felt sometimes like he could read her mind, and she his. And now, eight years apart, he felt like he knew nothing at all about her.

“Get it over with,” he rasped. “Kill me.”

Her voice shook slightly when she spoke.

“I couldn’t kill you back then, Kaga. I’m not going to kill you now.”

What?

“I was exiled,” he said slowly, as if either of them could have forgotten.

“Only because I managed to talk mother down from executing you,” Alexandria replied. Kaga blinked slowly, stunned. “When she found out...Kaga, she was furious. She would have had me prove a point to the whole village: a life for a life. That she was impartial, even when it came to her own kin.” Alexandria laid her spear across her lap. “I told her she couldn’t, said it would set a terrible precedent, that it wasn’t what grandfather would have wanted.” And here she met Kaga’s eyes again, expression soft and tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do better.”

Kaga opened his mouth, closed it. Tried to sit up and then cried out in pain, falling back against the ground. Alexandria instantly became a whirlwind of movement, pulling stimpaks from the pouches around her waist and moving to treat his injuries. He watched her work, less confused now as to why she would even bother.

Alexandria was covered in tattoos. Kaga had seen her receive her first, and although he would later find out how painful they were to get, she had been stoic and resolute through the whole process. The needle had dipped into her skin again and again, and she made no sound as the prancing wolf that represented the Miller line was inked onto her shoulder. Kaga’s own wolf had been altered, a dozen arrows stabbing through it, branding him a traitor and an outcast.

Right now he watched the ink on her hands as she worked. On her thumb, pointer, and middle finger were fine, highly detailed tattoos of the bones that lay just beneath her skin, marking her skill as a healer. She was always going to lead the village, but in her teen years she had spent hours in the perfumed medical building, following Hakunin around like a puppy. Wide-eyed in wonder at the man’s abilities and knowledge. Kaga had always though him a crazy old man, wildly superstitious and speaking in riddles, but had never said any of that to the man’s face. There was no use in insulting your doctor. And the man had talent – it was evident in how he had managed to pass it on to Alexandria. She sat back, and Kaga could breath without pain now.

Slowly, he sat up. Alexandria was looking away from him, out into the distance.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway,” she said. “You got what you wanted. Arroyo is destroyed.”

“What?!” he yelled. She didn’t even flinch.

“This group – the Enclave – they came in while I was away, on a mission to try to save the village from starvation. They burned everything down, took everyone who didn’t die in the initial attack away with them, I’m going to their base now.”

He stared at her – at Arroyo’s perfect, precious Chosen one – and realized that she had always been just that.

Even when they were children.

“What are you going to do there?” he finally asked.

She turned to him, smiling bitterly.

“I’m going to kill every one of those bastards I can get my hands on. Probably die in the attempt.”

He tapped a finger against his leg, metal against metal. Looking across the sands, he saw the car he had defiantly stood in front of to force her out to confront him.

“Got a seat for one more?” he asked, nodding towards it.

Lexi grinned, genuinely this time.

“Like I said, it’s probably a suicide mission.”

“And what better way to go out, than in a glorious battle of revenge alongside my sister?”

She stood, and offered him a hand.

He took it.

[violyane]

His eyes, darkened and full of need looked into her pearly eyes, his lips formed into that silly smile of his and for the first time since they got together, Megami heard those three words escape his mouth: “I love you.”

❗️Warning: mature themes, minors dni❗️

[madetofly]

What Do You Mean?

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: I Was Born for This - Alice Oseman Relationships: Allister "Lister" Bird/Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Allister "Lister Bird & Jimmy Kaga-Ricci & Rowan Omondi Characters: Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Allister "Lister" Bird, Rowan Omondi Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bodyswap, Getting Together, Panic Attacks, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism,Implied/Referenced Sex Summary: On your eighteenth birthday, you wake up in your soulmate's body, where you'll stay until you find them and share a kiss. On the eve of Lister's birthday, The Ark is well aware of just how terrible things might go if they don't find Lister quickly the next morning.

But it turns out they were worried about the wrong thing. Because, come morning, it's Jimmy who wakes up in Lister's body, not a stranger.

Read on AO3.

They got back to their flat at what felt like an ungodly hour but what was really only nine in the evening. All Jimmy wanted was to sleep. It had been the longest day in the studio that they’d ever done, and they would have gone longer if it hadn’t been imperative that they make it home before midnight. They’d felt like they’d had to get as much done as possible considering they’d be losing Lister the next day for who knew how long. They’d been so distracted that it was doubtful they’d got anything good from the session, which only made Jimmy more exhausted.

And to make matters worse, Lister wouldn’t stop complaining no matter how clear Jimmy and Rowan made it that they didn’t want to listen.

“No one should turn eighteen without a birthday party,” Lister called from the kitchen as he poured himself a drink.

Jimmy collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, his eyes falling shut. He yearned for his bed, but Lister was complaining loudly enough that it would drift through the door even if Jimmy tried to sleep. And once he was down, the idea of getting up again was decidedly unappealing. The couch sank beside him as Rowan sat down. A minute later, Lister wandered in, and Jimmy listened to him shuffle around as he took an armchair.

“Plenty of people don’t have parties on their eighteenth,” Rowan pointed out in a tired voice. “There’s no good way to plan one when you don’t know where you’re going to end up come morning.”

“Or who you’re going to be,” Jimmy added. He cracked his eyes open to watch Lister’s expression for any hint of how he was feeling. Lister had thrown one leg over the armrest of his chair. He looked perfectly fine despite everything.

Everything about his behaviour in the leadup to his birthday had been bizarre to Jimmy. He kept focusing on the most illogical things. When he woke up the next day, he’d be in his soulmate’s body, yet he’d fixated on not being able to have a party like that was the end of the world.

Switching bodies was stressful for just about everyone, but it was especially fraught for them. A stranger was going to wake up in Lister’s bed, and they had no idea how that person would react to realising that they were in The Ark’s house. Meanwhile, Lister would be God knew where looking like a stranger, and they wouldn’t have Lister back in his rightful place until he and the stranger kissed.

Jimmy tugged the sleeves of his hoodie into bunches in his fists. He’d thought it was all very romantic when he was younger, and even now, he longed to know his soulmate. As he’d grown older, though, he’d begun to think more about the flaws in the system. Namely, just how terrifying eighteenth birthdays were.

Sensing his rising anxiety, Rowan threw an arm around his shoulders. Jimmy leaned into his side, taking deep breaths.

“You have one goal on your birthday, Lister,” Rowan said like he was talking to a five year old. “Get yourself back here as fast as you can. Parties can come later.”

Lister sighed. “Everything’s going to be fine. I don’t know why the two of you are so worried.”

Despite his reassurances, Lister’s lips pressed together tightly.

The whole world knew it was Lister Bird’s eighteenth birthday. They couldn’t predict how many people would come out of the woodwork claiming to be Lister in a different body, and they had to hope they could tell who the real one was. Theoretically, they could rely on Lister’s soulmate to help out, but there was no telling how cooperative they’d be if they realised they could play the situation to their advantage.

Jimmy knew everything would probably be fine, but he couldn’t help but imagine the worst.

Continue reading on AO3.

[depressed-musiclover]

Sitting in my form listening fix you by Coldplay in queue. It may be a bit pathetic.

I wish I could lay in bed and re-read I was born for this by Alice. I like that book because it shows how much a friendship can change your whole life. Sometimes in good or bad ways.

I didn’t slept much last night because of an essay I had to write. I’m so tired I think I’m going to fall asleep. I already had a huge cup of coffee but definitely need more.

[greeen-bean]

Iwbft-RS crossover AU (I think)

In canon Aled wrote the into to universe city and plays guitar. I hc that he writes other music the same way he writes university city and used to write the letters to February. He just doesn't do anything with it, it's just for funnies.

Then Francis and Rowan meet backstage at a convention or something and rowan is internally fanboying because he LOVES University City and the official artist us talking to him and she's cute and she doesn't know who he is.

Anyway, flash forward to when the 5 of them start hanging out, and this is during The Arks hiatus, and frowan and frowaning, and jimmy and aled are hitting it off, and when they start bringing Daniel, he and Lister get along like a house on fire (to everyone's confusion)

One day, rowan, jimmy and Lister talk about how they have been in a music rut and how they're struggling to make any new music after everything that had happened.

Francis brings up that aled writes music (to which aled is fuming at her for) and jimmy asks if he can hear/see some of it. After a while Aled says yes.

Together, the 4/5 of them take the sings Aled had written and flesh them out abit. And eventually after a while (and a lot of convincing) The Ark release an EP with sings based on and credited too the Universe City Podcast.

To which the Internet losses it's mind because, 1, this is the first thing The Ark have released in a long while, and 2, wdym these two very different things know of each other.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

how to ruin jugdral characters and make them into shitty modern tropes: have two teenage girls cat fight over their romantic feelings for a grown ass man and make them aggressive rivals

[listerbirdloml]

for my "give me a word, ill write an IWBFT short on it" the first one we have is Cheese from @0s3manv3rse !! tyvm for commenting :))

theres no real content warning apart from maybe excessive wealth, strong language, angry rowan, and Bradley Walsh. wrote this in twenty minutes pls enjoy. 729 words.

Cheese 

“Did you eat my Gorgonzola?”

“What?”

As Jimmy looks up from his phone and sees the positively miffed look on Rowans face, he can’t help but feel the need to laugh at him. He’s got a pink sheet face mask on with, honest to god, cucumbers under his eyes. But beyond the hydrating sheet, Jimmy can see the creases of his eyebrows and the frown distorting the mouth of the mask.

“Did you eat my Gorgonzola?” He’s holding up an empty container and waving it around. “I got it ordered yesterday. Jimmy, this cheese cost me, I shit you not, five hundred quid.” Jimmy gawks and Rowan ignores him. “I just wanted to try it, and now it’s gone.”

"No, Rowan. I didn’t eat your ridiculously overpriced mouldy cheese.” Jimmy puts his phone down. “You spent five hundred quid on cheese?”

“We all make bad decisions after wine, Jimmy.”

“Heard.” 

They both look at the new addition to the room, a grinning Lister Bird who props himself up on the counter, crossing his legs. He too has a face mask on, blue, with a ridiculous headband pushing his hair out of his face. It has comically large white bunny ears on top, and Jimmy truly doesn’t care to know where or when he got it. but unhelpfully, his brain reminds him of his Halloween costume from the year before.

“Hah hah, very funny.” Rowans tone is dry and rolls his eyes as he continues digging around in the fridge in the hopes that his cheese has simply been misplaced. Jimmy stands next to Lister, so they can both watch him.

“What’s he doing?” Lister asks as he crosses his arms. Jimmy sighs and leans slightly closer to him, his eyes never leaving Rowan.

"He's trying to find his cheese. He thinks I ate it.” Jimmy doesn’t necessarily whisper it, but he doesn’t speak loud enough to alert the occupied rowan. 

Lister has other plans. In a loud, chirpy tone, he happily informs them:

“Oh that? Dude, that reaked! It was all mouldy, so I threw it out.” Jimmy closes his eyes and counts to ten. He misses how Rowan's hands freeze in their shuffling of refrigerated items. His back is tense, and his eyes are also closed. Perhaps he too is counting to ten.

“You what?”

“I threw it out." Lister, as per usual, seems unbothered by the shift in tension. He looks genuinely confused. Jimmy almost feels bad for him. Almost.

“You threw it out?”

“Yeah? Dude, it was rancid. There was lit-“

Rowan peels off the cucumbers one at a time. Objectively, it’s hilarious to watch. But Jimmy is more concerned at the maiming Lister is about to receive to find it in him to audibly laugh. He does, however, have to cover his laugh behind a cough when Rowan also peels off the sheet mask and flings it onto the linoleum floor. His face is shiny with the serum of the mask, but still murderous looking.

Lister now seems to catch onto the tension as he laughs nervously and hops down from the counter. He has his hands out placatingly, and it’s not lost on Jimmy that he’s got them flat palmed. 

“Allister. That cheese was five hundred pounds.” Listers gulps, loudly. He laughs again but it has no humour, only fear. “I bought that five hundred pound cheese to enjoy with my relaxing face mask. I was supposed to be relaxing. We have Celebrity Chase tomorrow, and I intend to win. And to win, I need to relax tonight. Do I look relaxed, Allister? There was three steps to my relaxation. Fancy cheese, fancy wine, and a lovely calming face mask. And now two of those things are ruined. So, I ask again. Do I look relaxed?"

“You look great.” Lister is backing away from them now. “Gorgeous. Definitely the world's second sexiest man. You're glowing, really. I love what you've done with the eyebags. That cucumber worked a treat.” He trips over the bin but ignores it as he keeps making his way to the kitchen door. Rowan is advancing on him.

“Just run.” Lister doesn’t need to hear it from Jimmy twice before he’s turning and bolting down the corridor and up the stairs. Rowan follows him, hot on his heels.

“No murdering; we need him alive!” There is no answer to his call, but a second later, he hears a ridiculously high-pitched scream from Lister. Jimmy just sighs, opens Safari, and looks for replacements for Rowan's cheese.

[sillygooseness]

At last, she is finished. 

Lister is pining because of course he is.