#langworth if you squint

[koumystic]

I strongly believe Kay uses brainrot language and Lang plays along because 1. He is just like that 2. It pisses Edgeworth off and its funny (this also applies to Trucy & Beanix to Apollo)

[crowliphale]

SPRING BREAKERS LETS GET FUCKED UP!! /ij

[crplpunkklavier]

not strictly a wip for wip wednesday but heres the best thing ive ever written, from the intro to a langworth fic ill never finish

“Don’t look now,” Wright says quietly, which makes Miles glance up, catching Wright stare at a spot somewhere behind him, “but there’s a guy behind you, over by the door I mean, that’s been staring at you. And judging from that I think either he wants to kill you, or fu--”

“What does he look like?” Miles asks, not wanting him to finish that sentence and not wanting to think about which of these he’d prefer right now.

Wright takes a moment, squints, and then says, “Like a furry.”

“Ah,” says Miles.

“Do you know him?” Wright asks, the squint turning into a frown, and then scandalized wide eyes when he looks back at Miles. “Wait. You know what a furry is?”

“Yes.”

The plastic coffee mug trembles precariously when Wright slams his hands on the table. “From where?”

“What?” Miles lowers his paper, finally, to give him his best blank stare. Oh, he knows what a terrible slip-up that just was. But a good pokerface is everything. “I don’t know. Maybe Larry told me.”

“No, Larry doesn’t know what a furry is!” Wright is now pointing a finger at him, which Miles regards with disdain. This is the cafeteria, for god’s sake. “I’ve seen the way he draws dogs!”

“Wright,” Miles says. “What does that mean.”

“Don’t play stupid now!” He’s shout-whispering now, probably because he, too, just remembered that this is the cafeteria. The courtrooms are two corridors down. “Where did you learn about furries?”

“Look, I don’t know!” Miles shout-whispers back, clinging to his paper with both hands only to resist the urge to point his finger back at him. What a terrible reflex to develop. He needs a vacation.

Wright frowns at him and leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. With a normal voice, which somehow makes this worse, he says, “Is this a Steel Samurai thing?”

“No!” Miles has slammed his paper down on the table. Embarrassed, he smooths it over and then straightens his jacket for no reason. It was straight before. “I suppose I just know. It’s really none of your concern.”

In what can only be an act of true love, Wright drops it.