#then im left there taking like weeks to finish something that i CANT just procrastinate on because thats a JOB

[electricpurrs]

i have like 3. commissions to work on and i just wanna finish them so i can stop worrying about it but i cantttttttttttttttttt i keep hoping ill get something done every day and every day i dont. this sucks

[beelziebabie]

im the one who sent you that mammon request,,, beel rly is baby, but comparing him to The Great Mammon? foolishness. your writing is so gooood thank you sm for taking my request 🥺 if you're still looking for some, maybe a lucifer/mammon where they are both into mc and try to compete for her attention without her noticing their thirst? (also, do u take belphie requests? i love one salty boy)

i take ALL boys sweetie

all are welcome

im lowkey kinda warming up to satan,,, so i take back what i say about not caring about him

and sure!! im gonna write out this one cuz im thirsty for both of them no cap🗿

~

Title: Brotherly Competition

Scenario: Mammon and Lucifer bet that by the end of the day, one of them could get MC in their room alone.

time started: 2:25 PM

time finished: 7:35

(i procrastinated a lot and got really busy lol)

NSFW?: nope

Reader Insert?: yup

~

The occasional sound of sipping and very frequent sounds of munching filled the large dining room. All 6 Avatars were sitting at the dining table, minus you. You headed to your room and skipped dinner mainly because there was a test you had to study for in one of your classes at RAD. Beelzebub didn’t want you to go hungry, so he offered you some of his food but you declined. He shrugged it off and continued eating happily. That just meant more for him.

It was silent. Weirdly silent. Asmodeus’ fingers drummed against the clothed table, his coral colored eyes scanning the room. Everyone was eating peacefully, silently.

“It’s too quiet..” He whined to himself, poking at his food with his fork. His eyebrows were scrunched together with his bottom lip slightly poked out in a pout. “I wish Y/n was here..”

“Oh yeah!” Mammon suddenly shouted, causing everyone at the table (minus Lucifer and Beelzebub, who both totally tuned Mammon out) to flinch at his sudden movement. His hands crashed against his table and a large grin spread across his face. Asmodeus perked up a little bit at the commotion.

“Mammon, what is it now?” Satan sighed, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a long sip from it.

Mammon stood up proudly and pressed his thumb into his chest, his chin up and his smirk never falling.

“I made a bet with Lucifer!”

Satan started choking on his drink. Beelzebub paused for only a moment to look up at Mammon with his eyebrows raised, shook his head, then continued eating without a word. Leviathan rolled his eyes and pushed his plate over to Beelzebub who gratefully took it and added it onto the mountain on his plate.

“Liar,” Levi said, taking his cellphone out of his pocket to open an bishojo game he found earlier.

Mammon shot a glare at him. “But I’m not! Look, you can ask him yourself!”

“Right, like Lucifer would make a bet with you of all demons,” Satan shook his head and cleared his throat, putting down his fork and wiping his mouth with a napkin.

A bet with Lucifer was something that pretty much never happened. Lucifer would rather not waste his time on such a trivial thing, and definitely not his money either. How did Mammon manage to do that though?

Lucifer sighed, and everyone’s attention went over to him. Expecting eyes lingered on him, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A visible vein popped up on his temple.

“Yes, I made a bet with him,” Lucifer started and he could hear their jaws drop. He brought his hand down from his face and glared at Mammon. He sat down in his seat after a cold sweat washed over him.

“However,” He continued, “No one will know what it’s about.”

“Aww, c’mon Lucifer!” Asmodeus propped his arm up on the table and leaned his cheek into his hand. “Why cant you tell us? We’re your brothers after all,” He smiled at him.

Lucifer picked up his fork and carried some food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before speaking up again. “And I cant trust any of you. Maybe Beelzebub.”

“Ouch,” Asmodeus frowned playfully and stood up in his seat. “Well I’m heading to bed, goodnight!”

Most of the brothers just waved goodbye, but Lucifer and Leviathan who both said “Night” or “Goodnight”.

~

When you woke up the next morning, you werent surprised to see Mammon there already. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and it looked like he was dozing off.

You laughed lightly and sat up. He flinched when he heard your giggle, but relaxed when he realized it was just you. “How long have you been sitting there, Mammie?” You yawned and stood up, stretching your arms high above your head.

Mammon’s face tinted a light shade of red as he watched your nightgown ride up your thigh just a bit. He snapped out of it when he heard your question. “Good, you’re awake! Finally! Do you have any idea how long you kept me waiting!?” He huffed and watched as you went over to your closet and tossed the multiple garments that made up your school uniform onto the bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” You picked out a white bra and a matching white panties and tossed them onto the bed as well. Mammon couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the undergarments. “So, you’ve been watching me sleep for a while now then?”

“Eh? No!— I just—“ His face lit up with a red hue and it didnt help when you looked back at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Whatever! Just— hurry up so we can get to breakfast,” He turned away sharply from your gaze, standing up from the bed and heading for the door. Mammon heard you hum in reply. “Okay, I’ll be down there in a few.”

Before leaving your room completely, he paused and bit his lip. “I uh.. I also packed up your stuff for you. You looked exhausted, so..”

You turned your face to him and put on a warm, closed eye smile. Just when he thought his face was calm it warmed right up again. “Thanks Mammie. I appreciate it, a lot.”

He huffed and opened the door. “Pshh, yeah! You better!”

~

At the breakfast table, it was weirdly silent. It seemed as thought Lucifer and Mammon were silently communicating with each other, but to you, it just looked like they were glaring at each other.

You bounced a bit in your seat, the tips your feet just grazing the carpeted floor. You ate with a small smile and short hums between chews. You swallowed your food and stood up.

“I’m finished!” You said, even though there was a bit of food left. Before you could even ask if Beelzebub wanted it he took your plate from your hands and dumped it onto his. He muttered something along the lines of “No food should go to waste”.

“I’m gonna head to class early. I still have some books in my room to get. Mammie, are you coming?” You bent over slightly and picked up your bookbag, slinging it over your shoulder. You flattened out and wrinkles in your skirt and waited for his answer.

“Huh?” He said, half of his spoon already in his mouth. “Oh, y-“

Lucifer stood up abruptly and picked up his plate. “Mammon is still eating his breakfast, Y/n. I’m sure he would like to finish it,” He walked over to the kitchen and a couple clinks were heard, then water running. Lucifer came back out.

“I’ll help you with your books. Is that alright with you?” He asked, his eyes shifting over to Mammon for a moment. Mammon was holding his fork so tightly that his knuckles were turning ghostly white. The smallest grin showed up on Lucifer’s features and he directed his gaze back to you.

“Oh, sure,” You hummed, starting to walk to your bedroom. But before you could even walk two feet away from your chair, Mammon stood up.

“Actually, I’m quite full thank you very much!” He hissed at Lucifer and he rolled his eyes.

“I can carry your bag for you, Y/n!” He rushed behind you and before you could object he slipped the strap off of your shoulder and swung it over his own. You blinked in surprise.

“Ah, thanks Mammie..” You shrugged it off and started walking to your room. That wasnt the first time Mammon would randomly do something for you, so you didnt pay any attention to it. You were also oblivious to the two demons sending death stares at each other behind you.

~

The entire day at school, Mammon and Lucifer followed you around like puppies. Lucifer would always offer to carry your stuff and you couldn’t say no to him.

Mammon would just take it from you and say “You should be honored that The Great MAMMON has decided to help you, a lowly human, with your things! Be grateful!”.

For some reason though, you had this weird feeling that there was something behind this. The two oldest, two of the most powerful demons out of everyone in Devildom randomly decided to help you with everyday tasks? Maybe you expected it from Mammon, but Lucifer? Something was up. But still, you brushed it off and only thought of it as friendliness.

Just before dinner, you announced that you would be eating your food in your room.

“Huh!? Why!?” Mammon shouted, already at your side. You looked up at him and laughed softly.

“Stop shouting. I really wanna watch this movie that I got off of Azukon a couple weeks back, but I could never find the time,” You sighed sadly, then replaced your frown with a smile and looked past Mammon’s body to talk to the oldest.

“Lucifer, do you want to watch it with me?”

Mammon’s jaw dropped and he immediately moved himself so that he was within your vision range. “What!? Why not me!?”

“Oh please, you always help me out with my stuff! Lucifer never does, so I wanna repay him by spending some time with him! Is that so wrong?” You stood up straight again and tried to move past Mammon, but he just stepped in the same direction that you tried to go in every time. You groaned and looked up at him.

Mammon huffed and crossed his arms. “Yeah! I was doing a little extra today too! I..I thought you’d notice..” He pouted a bit and looked off to the side.

You sighed and brought your hand up to ruffle his hair. “Hey!-“

“Fine. You can watch it too, okay? You’re so needy.”

“I am not! If anything, you’re the needy one! You needed my help all day just for a couple of books!”

“I never asked for anyone’s help, but okay Mammie,” You chuckled and shook your head, walking past him as he tripped over his words to think of a retort. He followed behind you once he noticed you were gone.

You approached Lucifer with a smile, and he returned a small one. “So, do you want to watch it with me? You’ll have to eat in my room though,” You held your hands behind your back and fiddled with your fingers a bit.

“Sure. It sounds enjoyable. What movie is it?” He hummed, watching Mammon’s expression get increasingly more irritated.

“It’s this movie called ‘Me and my brother both love this one girl and are both battling for her affection by doing small acts of kindness, but she’s so dense that she doesnt even realize!’! The reviews were really good so, I bought it!”

Lucifer and Mammon both blinked, then glanced at each other, then back to you. You still had a giant smile on.

Lucifer cleared his throat. “Ah..sure.. It sounds very familiar though. Maybe I have watched it.”

“Nope, It’s pretty new. I doubt you’ve watched it,” You hummed, walking past both of them and heading for your bedroom.

“Cmon! I already have it ready to watch. Let’s go!”

~

lmk if you want me to turn this into a smut or fluff lmao im not sure where im gonna take this its all up to you babe

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Three, “If It Kills Me”

A story about what happens when she can’t be just his assistant anymore, and he can no longer be only her boss. Now, can they be happy with being just friends?

Read this story from the beginning here! :-) 

Inspo tag here!

*NEW* Spotify playlist in the works can be found here, songs that inspire me for the story and have significance in the story c: 

Warnings: one brief mention of vomiting, and some mild language.

                                   SNEAKY PEEEEEEEEEEEK

“And Becky’s face consumes my thoughts, much like it’s been captivating my conscience as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. I miss all of it.”

Song Inspiration: If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz (click to listen)

            “It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh electricity, you know?” - Steve Harrington, Stranger Things 

The warm rays hit my cheeks as my sandals pound on the pavement. I wonder how I could ever be unhappy given the May sun shining down on me, and walking from my favorite restaurant. Without fail, the blissful idea is stolen away by a swarm of thoughts dosed in reality. And a particular one that reminds me of what I need to do, despite the dread I’ve been feeling. Not even the former respite of Asher’s hug after our shared lunch can keep them away. 

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swipe through my apps until I find the right one. Stopping in front of my gray car, I lean against the door with a huff. My thumbs hover across the screen nervously, followed by a curse under my breath. Quickly, they flit across the screen composing words in front of my eyes. Sliding into my driver seat, I stare at the screen for a moment longer before hitting send. 

I wait for the chime to come, telling me I have a new message, from him. Nervousness coats my limbs and only grows worse as the minutes tick by driving home. Waiting. But when I check my phone after walking in the door, my lock screen showing my dad and I’s smiling faces is blank. 

No new messages. 

Sliding off my black sandals, I pad through the shared living room and kitchen area before reaching my bedroom. My laptop beckons for me across the room on my desk, and I sit down before it. I hope that maybe if I don’t procrastinate this specific thing, maybe things will turn out a little better. But as I’m opening a study guide for Family Law’s final exam, I’m proven wrong. 

The chime grabs my attention immediately, making my fingers still on the keyboard. Flitting my eyes to the lavender Speck phone case, I grow antsy at wondering who the text is from. And what it says. Inhaling nervously, I pick it up and wake up the screen. The few words of a preview I see of the text cues a sour anxiousness to grow in my stomach. Bringing my knees up onto my chair, I pull them against my chest as I open the text. 

Me

Hey I’m so sorry I’ve been terrible at texting back, finals these next two weeks are getting to me. Speaking of that I realized that I have to take a final at the time we’re supposed to get lunch in a few days. I’m really sorry but can we reschedule . . . again? I was thinking in two weeks when I’m finally free from the clutches of uni????? :( 

Harry 

sorry cant love. im in edinburgh all that week for a case. lets talk about it when im back. good luck w finals xx

Sighing, I type up a short response, agreeing to that. With guilt casting a shadow over me, I return my attention to the lengthy study guide. The gross feeling in my stomach remains, and with its arrival, my excitement for our lunch date is replaced with disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks since we rescheduled it the first time, due to me messing up the dates, again. Peeking my eyes at my phone, I turn away and slump against my chair. 

It’s been a month since I saw him last, and although we’ve sent a handful of texts, they haven’t been enough for me. Skye, of course, told me that there’s nothing stopping me from showing up at his office door, but she’s wrong. I don’t know his schedule anymore, and for all I know, I’d be waiting around for him. Plus, my appearance would just yell ‘desperate!’ Sometimes, I wonder what little world Skye is tucked away into that’s far simpler, not realizing I still have to work during the day, especially more so this summer. 

But as the days drag on with chemo and radiation appointments, and lectures upon lectures, I think maybe Skye has the right idea being so optimistic. Maybe. 

+

Over the next few weeks, I see him at almost every corner I turn, and it hurts more than it should after all these weeks. The ignored texts shouldn’t feel like a fresh stab wound when I see that Scrabble box in the family room, get on that very same lift, or walk past the nurse’s station I found him leaning against that morning. Nothing compares to the piano and the pang I feel in my chest at the sight of it. It comes every time I walk through those doors and am reminded of the intimacy held on those keys. No, it didn’t get easier after the first time being back there with my dad, or the fifth time. Avoiding that gray sofa like the plague only reminded me of the texts I sent him that went unanswered. I can’t blame him though, because like a bitch, I took a week sometimes to reply to him. 

The tight feeling in my chest only feels heavier as I sit on the plaid couch in my childhood living room. I can’t even enjoy watching FRIENDS like I used to be able to, as their faces bring forth the sound of his laugh. It pains me to turn down their voices as I dig my phone out from under the cushions. I try not to let it get to me when I, once again, find no new text messages. My attempt is futile and it only causes me to take longer to open the phone app. By now, I know his number by heart, but my shaky hands cause me to mess up a few times. 

Pressing the phone to my ear, all I can hear is its ringing and the pounding of my heart. As the seconds drag on, I’m almost certain I’ll hear the voicemail next. But then I’m pleasantly surprised, although the bitterness in my stomach blossoms. 

“Hullo?” His gravelly voice pulls my lips into an instant smile. Rubbing the back of my neck anxiously, the words fall from my lips hurriedly. 

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” he responds curtly, a clattering noise heard in the background before he mutters a ‘shit.’

“I’m sorry, did I call at a bad time?” I ask quickly, regret filling my veins. 

“No, yer fine. ‘m jus’ makin’ dinna.”

“Oh um, nice. What are you cooking?” I inquire, twirling the braided silver ring on my pointer finger. Swallowing, I wait to hear his molasses drawl again, like music to my ears. 

“Jus’ a stir fry. So . . . why’d ya ring?” Harry responds, a coolness hugging his voice. 

“Um, I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” he hums awkwardly, followed by the sound of a door closing. Squeezing my eyes shut, uneasiness falls over me in a wave. Oddly, I wonder if all of a sudden I can’t call to say hi. “Ya, we’ve both been busy. Cases fer me, an’ prolly uni an’ yer dad’s treatments fer you.”

“Yeah,” I agree aloud, my chin falling to rest in my palm. But it leaves a second later to lose my fingers in my hair. “I wanted to tell you that I finished my finals last week, so now I just have clinical left in the fall. Oh, and my dad got to ring the bell today. He’s all done with chemo and radiation after his scans all looked good. It’s hard to believe that he’s cancer-free. His doctors will, of course, have to keep an eye on him in the future to make sure it doesn’t come back, but I couldn’t be happier.” 

“Tha’s wonderful, love,” Harry coos into my ear, the first notes of happiness heard in his voice. It begins to put me at ease, and cause me to think maybe something isn’t off after all. “‘m really glad t’ hear that- well both o’ those things.”

Unbeknownst to me, I find myself nodding along with his words as if I needed his confirmation. But his words stop there, and the sickening feeling that something is wrong settles back in. A small ‘yeah’ stumbles off my lips as my fingers form into a fist in my lap, debating what to say next. Or if I should ask what I’ve been wanting to say the entire time. 

“We weren’t able to get ahold of each other a few weeks ago to reschedule lunch. Would you still like to?” Going out on a limb, I let the words fly. 

I watch for them apprehensively, uncertain if they’ll take flight. The loud sound from his side, the subsequent shuffling, and a voice saying his name shoots them down hastily. 

“‘m sorry, I gotta go. ‘ll text ya ‘bout gettin’ lunch,” Harry remarks, his words stringing together swiftly. I barely have the chance to say an ‘okay’ before he abruptly hangs up, sewing together an unwanted thought for me. 

Tossing my phone to the other end of the couch, I fall back against the cushions. Turning up the volume of the telly, I avert my gaze back to the make-believe world I’ve always taken comfort in. As the phone call gnaws away at my insides, planting insecurities every few steps, I let the characters whisk me away. Even if their faces and familiar jokes will now never stop reminding me of him, and something I let go of that I didn’t know I had. I only feel worse when I realize that I knew then that he’d never send that text, and I think he knew that, too.

+

“Staring at it isn’t going to make it ring, y’know,” somebody states, pulling me from my webs of thoughts. 

Lifting my attention away from the black screen in my hand, I catch Myles looking at me impatiently. 

“Wha- ‘m sorry. I was listenin’.”

“Then what’d I just say?” he requests, the hand propped against his chin rising in a silent question. 

My lips fall apart to welcome my voice, but nothing comes out. Shrugging, he receives his answer and replies with a disapproving glare. 

“Hare, this is important stuff. We’re leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow for the case, it’s a huge one.”

“I know, My. Jus’ repeat what ya said, please,” I huff, batting a hand at him. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he leans back in his leather chair. 

“I swear to God, Harry, I-.”

“Stop,” I retort, growing annoyed. 

He plays with the point of his quiffed blonde hair before clearing his throat. Although I try to listen the second time around, my gaze is lulled back to my laptop screen. My fingers itch to touch the keys and type up words, and when Myles begrudgingly answers his ringing phone, I find my chance. Sliding my silent phone into my pocket, I click on the blue thought bubble, only to be met with disappointment. Brushing it away, my fingers fly across the keys and my words are sent with a soft hum. Soon, Myles hangs up the phone with a perturbed sigh and resumes the conversation we were having. Again, I try to return to the bubble we share and the words that occupy it, but my mind is consumed with the anticipation of that coveted ding. And with Becky’s face, much like it’s been captivating my thoughts as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

It crowds my mind when I wait for the boarding call, tapping my fingers along the screen and watching the words be sent off. I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. All of it. I miss all of it. It gnawed away at me slowly, and terribly, burying doubts beneath my defenses. They sprang up when I least expected them, and when I thought about sending just one more text. A few words wouldn’t hurt anything, I thought, but at the same time, I distrust the ultimate impact they could have. 

The pounding jars me from my reverie, bringing me to my feet slowly. Padding past the television and kitchen area, a yawn jumps from my lips. Another pound lands on the door, dragging my brow into a knot. 

“Oh, shuddup!” I exclaim in disbelief, wrapping my fingers around the smooth metal of the door. Yanking it open, I find the grinning bearded face of my mate standing on my stoop. “‘m not goin’, Rore, I already told ya this.”

“C’mon, Harry, I’ll look like a right idiot being there all alone,” Rory responds, his steps telling me he’s following me inside once I turn around. “Help a mate out here.” 

“Ya, ‘coz ya were so helpful tha otha day when I asked ya t’ consult with me fer the Starkey case.” Scoffing, his words pause between his lips as I fill a glass of water from the attachment on the fridge. “Why’re ya goin’ anyways, since it sounds like sumthin’ yer dreadin’? And since when d’ya even go t’ these sorta things? Last place I thought ‘d see you at, Rore.”

“I don’t, but it’s for me sister’s showing. I can’t miss it, she’s me baby sister. I’d hear about it from me mum for weeks.”

Snorting, I have to pull the glass of water away from my lips. 

“Hope ya bloody choke on that water, mate,” Rory scoffs, only making me laugh harder. Water flies from my lips as I’ve forgotten the glass on the marbled countertop. “Are ya coming or not, Harry? Ya know it’s a good place to pick up chicks, too. They blooming love these art gallery places.”

Recovering from my fit of giggles, I turn my head to find Rory waiting with the question in his eyes. He huffs and riffles a hand through his tousled blonde hair a few shades lighter than that which covers his face. Shaking his head, he wiggles his head at me. 

“I’ll consult with you on the next case, or even give ya first pick,” he whines, folding his hands together under his chin, as if he’s praying. 

“‘m yer bloody boss, I always get first picks,” I murmur, a smile cracking at the end of my words. 

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” he spits, pushing at a chair in front of the seated bar attached to the kitchen island. Clucking his tongue, he messes with the collar of his navy blue blazer thrown over a bloody Zeppelin shirt. Yeah, you sure look artsy there, Rore. But with the next words that fly from his sailor’s mouth, he pins me down. “What’re ya gonna do here anyways, sit and watch the bleeding telly all in your lonesome when ya could be with me getting damn a date?”

Biting my lip, my house slippers come into my view and when Rory’s eyes find them, a laugh explodes from his lips. “Go hurry up and bloody change before you’re too far gone, mate. I’ll be in the car,” he titters before his voice falls with a delighted sigh. Delight found in my pain. 

“Two cases, Rore. Any two cases I want, ya consult with me on. Ya got it?” I argue, following on his footsteps. 

“Whatever makes ya feel better, mate. I know you'll be thanking me later tonight.” 

“Doubt it,” I mutter, watching him open the door, sure there’s a sly grin covering his face. 

I turn to jog up the stairs until I arrive in my bedroom. Quickly, I toss on skinny jeans, a Keith Haring shirt, and a mustard button up smattered with faded white flowers. I look rather artsy, I reckon, I decide as I look at myself in my bathroom mirror. It’s an easy feat when you’re standing next to wannabe Rory over there, though. After taming my hair and finding a pair of shoes, I pad down the stairs. 

“Alexa, turn off all o’ my lights,” I announce, slipping my wallet and phone into my pocket as my hous darkens around me. 

“Take fucking long enough?” Rory groans when I slide into the passenger seat of his silver Sentra. 

“Shuddup and drive, will you? So we can get this ova with.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass tonight, then just go back inside,” he almost laughs, beginning to back away from the towering walls of my house. 

“Talking ‘bout yerself, are ya now?” I quip, bringing my phone from my tight pockets, tapping in my passcode. 

“I’ve noticed, y’know,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear him. Looking up from the bright screen, his eyes don’t stray from the road. “There’s a girl, isn’t there? Or there was?” he continues, a man I’ve come to love over the last three years he’s worked with me. And somehow I thought I had fooled him, but it turns out, I haven’t. I can’t even fool myself.

“Sumthin’ like that,” I whisper, my attention straying back to the conversation lit on my screen. Another day of the ball being in her court, and she just leaves it in the bloody corner, neglecting it. “I see why ya wanted me t’ come now . . . jus’ don’ try t’ set me up with yer bloody sista. She’s like twenty.”

His hearty chuckle fills the space around us, the words of a song from Death Cab for Cutie lurking in the background. “I won’t, but y’know she’s not gonna let ya out of her sight, mate. She’s had the hots for you from day one.”

“Oh God, Rore, what’d I let ya drag me into here?” I joke, my lips curling into a nervous smile. But the smile feels good, and it feels even better when her name disappears from my screen, and I forget my phone in my pocket. 

+

“What happened to making me dinner?” I whine from the couch, crossing my left leg over the other under the comfort of my blanket. 

“That was when you were busy, and well, the other day when I was feeling generous. Not today, missy,” Skye scoffs, the sound of the fridge shutting marking her words. Something lands in my lap with a plop, startling me. 

“Wow, how gourmet. Why thank you, I definitely don’t need to make dinner now,” I joke, picking up the wrapped piece of string cheese. 

“I know you’re still going to eat it. Just eat cereal or something, you hobo. I’m going to bed at a decent time, unlike somebody.”

“Hey, it’s a Friday!” I argue, pressing the page down button on the remote, waiting for something to catch my eye on Netflix. 

“Yeah, and some of us still have a job on Saturdays!” she calls from her journey down the hall. 

“Party pooper!” 

She remains silent on the defensive line, and so does the list of boring content on the television screen. Relenting, I click over to My Stuff and press play on the next episode of FRIENDS. Relaxing into the cushions, I unwrap the cheese and slowly eat it in strings. Giggles flow from my lips watching the scene unravel in front of me, and some eye-rolls because of Ross or Monica. After a while, my legs stray to the fridge, and I return to the tan sectional with a bowl of Cheerios. The milk threatens to spill over the side when I sit up suddenly, almost yelping in laughter at the scene when Monica and Rachel lose their apartment to Chandler and Joey. The sugary Cheerios soon disappear, and the milk follows them as the episode nears the end. 

Placing my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, I hurry back to the sofa to catch a Phoebe scene. My cheeks warm with a smile, but they soon grow cold when my thoughts have to interrupt with a memory of his face. That god awfully sweet smile adorned with his cherry lips and precious dimples. Without knowing what I’m doing, the cartoon looking app appears under my nose, and pictures fill my feed. I take a second look at a few of them that catch my attention, the angry voices of Rachel and Monica tickling at my ears. 

Soon, the search bar materializes and although it feels wrong, I type in letter after letter to create his name. I can’t remember the last time I glanced at his profile, just to catch a hint of him. Finding the profile I’ve become familiar with, I tap on his picture and wait for his profile to load. Glancing away, the tv captures my attention once more as I scratch at an itch on my leg. Yawning, I rub at my eye before it falls back to the blindingly bright screen. Blinking hard to clear the haze from my vision, I scroll down to see what new pictures he’s posted, although they’re usually few and far between. 

I find the most recent picture I recognize and tap through them. Picturesque shots from high in the clouds. His unbelievably adorable niece. Food-grams. A picture of a homemade pizza is making my mouth water and is still stuck in my mind when I happen upon the next photo, and the most recent one. The moisture in my mouth is wicked away, suddenly bone dry when the image in front of my eyes slowly registers with me. But I can’t believe it, even though I’m seeing it. I don’t want to see it, or believe it. The moisture reappears in the corners of my eyes quickly as a sourness quickly knits together in my gut. The image shakes in my hands and then blurs in my eyes, accented by the thrashing of my heart inside of my chest. 

“Skye!” I shout, the words leaping from my lips with little success. 

My lip wobbles and I feel my entire face collapse from pain, disbelief, the whole shebang. The sob screaming from my lips is muffled by my fingers coming to my mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter, inhaling fast and feeling the tears in my throat. Because I can feel it everywhere in my body - the pain. In my eyes, my stomach, my hands, and my chest. The sight of Harry’s lips touching that of another girl’s sends knives into my heart, and my stomach roiling. “T-this can’t . . . ,” but my words escape me, because the multitudes of feelings punished with anguish and despair course through me. 

“Skye!” I yell again, not realizing that I’ve gotten to my feet. I stumble at first, feeling the weakness reach my legs. Her name leaves my lips wet with tears as I run past the kitchen and down the hall. 

Pushing open her door, darkness meets my eyes, and I swear in that moment it swallowed me. Hitting me, I grab the doorframe and feel my forehead fall against it. Leaning there for support, the sobs roll through me, the very reason still clutched in my hand. 

“Whaaaaat?” she groans tiredly from her bed across the room. 

But I only reply with a sob of her name, hiccups havocking my chest. My hands claw at the wall, darkness coating my eyelids. 

“Ree?” Skye asks groggily, the click of her lamp following her words. “What happened? Are you alright?” she hurries, the pillowy patting of her covers being thrown back meeting my ears. 

Her arms wrapping around me are almost numbing, and do nothing. And feel like nothing. But when I feel my head meet her chest, the slowed-down world I lived in for those few seconds vanishes. 

“Skye, I-. . . ,” I attempt, once again falling up short as tears suffocate my voice, much like they’re making me feel. Shakily, I press my phone into her hand as I try to find safety in her arms. 

I wait and then am rewarded with her intake of breath followed by a sigh. “Holy fuck,” she whispers, and retaliates by pulling me closer against her. “Come here, Ree.”

She walks me over to her bed and helps me under the covers until I’m surrounded by them, and her arms. 

“Who i-is she?” I demand sloppily, searching for something to hold onto and to anchor myself with. I’m compensated with the smooth fabric of her shirt that I cling to the back of, my head falling into her hair. The mundane scent of strawberries wafting from her body tries to relax me, but to no avail. 

“Ree-,” she begins, but I don’t let her start, let alone finish. 

“I want to kn- I need to know,” I respond, sniffling against the warm expanse of her neck. There’s shuffling next to me before she sighs, and I sense the light of my phone. Tapping prods at my hearing as I try to form coherent thoughts. 

I’m met with images of him. Harry. His dark curls, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the high-pitched giggle that accompanied my tickling as well as his own. The intruding memories rack my body with shaking sobs, pressing my lips together as new tears gush over them. My belly contracts with each sob, and I don’t even register the cramping in my hands from holding on so tightly. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Skye hums warily from above, pulling my head into her neck, leaving her arm there to shield me from her words. Or the image that I can’t remove from my mind even if I tried. It’s burned there indefinitely now. 

His arms in a blue button-up surrounding her and his lips enveloping hers. A smile creasing his cheeks with happiness, and spreading to those of her dark cheeks. Her curvy body pressed against his, flowing ebony curls tickling her chocolate skin. 

“Tell me.”

“Okay,” Skye caves, the tips of her fingers running marathons along my back, in attempts to calm me down. But I don’t know if the tried and true will work this time, although it has for every other, even when my dad’s life was painted with the C-Word. “She’s a London based artist, does some sculpting and gallery work locally. According to her Instagram account, anyways.”

“I asked . . who is she?” I repeat, my voice wavering under the dominance of the tears. 

“Her name’s Bailee Taylor.”

“W-what does her page look . . . like?” I request, exhaustion blanketing me, and only adding another feeling to the rest. Blinking away the tears, I try to take in a deep breath, but my memories hit me with the safety I felt in his arms. Unwaveringly. 

“It looks like they’re . . dating,” Skye announces quietly, squeezing me around the middle. The confirmation I didn’t know I’d been searching for hits me like a train, knocking the air out of me again. And all of a sudden, hatred pulses through me, asking me where to lay it. Where to feel it. “There’s a few pictures of them on her feed, looks like they met maybe a few weeks ago.” 

“Why?” jumps from my lips finally, taking a nosedive to join a sea of unanswered questions. The word shakes the second it leapt from my tongue, and somehow it hurts more than all of the rest. “I h-hate him,” I cry, my nose smushing against her skin when I try to hold onto her tighter than I already am. 

“No, you don’t,” she coos, raking her fingers through my hair slowly, and carefully. 

“I know, b-but I wish I could,” I answer, the memories dancing through my head at hyper speed. Falling asleep in his arms, and waking up in them. The tickling fight. The almost kiss. The Scrabble game. Waking up to find him waiting there in the doorway. Him coming back even after the way I treated him. Finding him standing there at the front of the lecture hall. The reprieve of being in his arms again after so long spent away from them. And then, like a wall, my mind runs into the strings of unanswered texts. The canceled lunch dates. The both of us ignoring the other’s texts, but then at the end, it was him. It was him who was awkward during the last phone call. He hung up on me abruptly, and I heard somebody else was there. Was it her? It’s possible they would have already been together by then. He said he’d text me to set up lunch, and he never did. 

“It won’t make you feel better,” she murmurs, cupping my head with her palm. The sound of tears edging at her words only makes mine come harder, and the feeling in my gut grows louder. 

“Then what will?” I beg, wondering if I’ll ever forget the taste of the salty tears. A taste I thought I could forget just late last month when my dad was cured. News that I told him, and had been impatiently waiting to do all day. “I thought I was just feeling okay again, Skye.”

“I know, Ree, I’m so sorry,” she returns, placing her cheek against mine, the first tear peeking through in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

I unpeel myself from her anxiously, kicking away the blankets before my feet land on the floor. 

“Where are you going?” she almost demands, the sound of her following me far away. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” I confess, rushing down the hall before falling to my knees in front of the toilet. The Cheerios and milk from earlier make a reappearance, along with the string cheese, and mushy contents of my other meals. 

Running a cold cloth along my face, Skye kneels in front of me, her face painted in sadness.

“How can it hurt so much, Skye, when he wasn’t even mine?” I croak, focusing on the lone tile in our bathroom that doesn’t match the rest of the flooring. 

“I think you’re wrong, he was yours, Ree.”

“I was so close. I fucked up, again,” I weep, my lips collapsing with yet another sob. 

“Don’t say that, don’t,” she insists, tucking her hair behind her studded ear when it goes every which way with the shaking of her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is. She’s so pretty . . Of course she is,” I remember aloud, breathing in quickly before the tears take hold of me once more. Closing my eyes, I reach out for her and let my head rest against her shoulder. 

“She really isn’t, Ree. A big pair of tits doesn’t make you pretty, and anyways, you’re far prettier. He could do much better, like you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I confess, trying to swallow, but my throat has tied itself into knots with the thoughts of him. And when that word falls out of bed inside of my head, I find that it can hurt worse. “I was his Becks, Skye, I thought it was right there. That it was gonna happen for us.”

“Oh, Ree,” she cries, sniffling against my hair when she pulls me against her. “I know, I’m so sorry . . so sorry.”

Nodding into her chest, it feels right as her necklace digs into my wet cheek. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and so does every other part of my body in some way. Somehow I let her bring me back to her bed, and hide me away in her arms. My head swims with questions, then fleeting hatred for him, and inconsolable longing the very next. I shed a tear for his smell, his contagious smile, that Scrabble game we’ll never finish, the churros I’ll never be able to eat again without him ruining them for me, the color of his eyes I could never forget, and the lost feeling of his lips I never got to kiss. The list miles long of things I never got to say to him, or do with him, or make him feel. Because now she does, and she isn’t me. 

“I-I thought . . that he felt the same way about me, and that somehow he knew that I loved him.” 

A whimper escapes Skye’s lips as my tears fall into her neck, adding to the puddle I’ve shed there. 

“What does she have that I don’t? Am I not interesting? Does she have a nicer body than I do? Am I not pretty enough? Was I not nice enough or appreciative of him?” I weep, the questions flowing off my lips from the recesses of my mind. My name greets my ears firmly, but I ignore it. “I was trying to answer his texts when I could, but things got so busy with uni and my dad. All the driving, the tests in both places, and I couldn’t keep dates right in my head. Maybe if I’d texted him back sooner that one time, or made the lunch date on the right day the first time-.”

“Becky, don’t do the ‘ifs’ thing,” Skye urges, pulling the covers further up our shoulders before returning to combing my hair back again and again. 

“But I can’t stop thinking about what went wrong, a-and how much I miss him, Skye. I miss him a hundred times more after seeing that picture,” I reveal, falling into her, my lips meeting her shoulder. My teeth dig into my skin and I let them, numb to the pain as the same word is too busy with my mind. “I don’t know if I ever wanna see him again.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to, I’ll always want to. Like something inside of me will always want him.” 

+

The sunlight streaming in through the windows is the first thing I see when I awake. Ducking my head back under the covers, I pull them over me with a groan. The blissful ignorance of the first few minutes after waking up follows me, until it all comes crashing back. 

“Are you awake?” a voice murmurs, sleep clinging to it. 

“Unfortunately,” I whisper, staring into the muted light underneath the gray covers. 

“I can stay home if you want me to, I was just making some breakfast,” Skye responds, the tapping of her feet along the floor following. 

“No, don’t cancel your hair appointments because of me. I’ll be . . I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but then the tears greet me good morning. 

“Oh, Ree, I’ll cancel and we can watch movies all day, or FRIENDS. Whatever you want,” she announces. The bed falls to one side when she sits on the edge, and I feel her hand find my back. 

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that,” I return, turning around and sitting up to dive into her arms. “I was hoping I had dreamt it all and it was just a bad dream. But my life is the bad dream.”

“Oh, Ree,” she coos, surrounding me with her arms. “I know this is cliche and it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll get better.”

“I don’t know about that. My life is a running joke lately because it feels like it’ll get better, and then it just gets worse.”

+

“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it, Becky?” somebody asks. Looking up from my cupcake, I find the face of Sophie. 

“Yeah, end of next week,” I answer, picking an orange sprinkle from the white frosting to eat.

“Do you have any big plans?” my boss asks as she places her lunch in the microwave. 

“My brother and I hang out every year, we’re twins.”

“Oh, how fun! I remember meeting him once when he brought you lunch one day,” she smiles, turning to face me as she waits in front of the humming microwave. 

I just nod and dip my finger into the frosting, feeling it melt on my tongue a second later. 

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yep, just tired is all,” I fib, taking a bite of the carrot cupcake, although I’m not wrong when I think about it. Skye has been a lifesaver for the last two weeks helping me get back on my feet. Thinking back on it and all of the tears leaves a funny taste in my mouth, but I try to brush it away with a forced smile. 

“How old will you be this year, Becky?” Sophie asks, pulling out a rolling chair to sit to my right at the long table. 

“Good old 26.”

“Wow, still a spring chicken, I’d say,” she comments, bringing a quirky smile to my lips. I almost follow her laugh with mine. “Well you know what, an early birthday present from me is you can have the rest of the day off. You always do a great job, Becky, and so you deserve it.”

“Sophie, I-,” I begin, my jaw falling to the floor. 

“I mean it, go. Get out of here. Go do something that makes you happy, love, it looks like you need to,” she smiles, squeezing my arm from across the table. Standing to my feet, profuse ‘thank yous’ leave my lips before I leave the break room. 

I drive around with my windows down, unsure of where to go instead of home. Before I know it, I find myself walking into my favorite little coffee shop. I’ve always loved to hang out here with a cup, reading a book, doing homework, or just relaxing on one of their sofas. 

Soon, I sit down with a Cubano sandwich and an iced cinnamon roll coffee, my very favorite. Pulling a book out of my work bag, I crack it open to the first page, unable to remember when I last had the time to read a book for fun. The words of Ruth Ware stare back at me, slowly drawing me into a made-up world, and away from the desolate one trying to swallow me. 

Quickly, I’m grateful for the respite from the thoughts mucking up my mind. Instead I lose myself in the sentences that spin a scary story, thanking my old self for stashing something besides a romance in my bag. That’s the last thing I could even think about indulging in right now. For some reason, the mystery entices me, a genre I’ve always had a love for. I think, especially now, it’s the aspect of being able to solve a mystery, and to fix a problem. If only I could do that now, I wish silently with a spiteful snort. 

Placing my empty plate on the return area by the cash register, I return to my cozy spot on the couch and to my book. Losing my fingers in my hair, I prop my head up and open the book to where I had left off. Soft indie music trickles from the speakers as conversations float around me. Several more sofas are dotted around the large room and booths, as well as tables varying in sizes. Friends play board games borrowed from the shelf by the fireplace, and others do schoolwork or actual work. A laugh from behind the counter echos through the room, right as the bell on the front door jingles. Although across the room, I can hear the voices floating in from the sidewalk. Cars honking and birds chirping. The sounds make me itch to leave the air-conditioned room, and bring my reading outside into the June sunshine. 

The words covering the pages root me to the spot, but they can’t protect me from what I hear. It’s a voice that I know inside and out, from the shortened words to the often used words. My vocal cords soon begin to tangle into knots in my throat at the mere noise. Beneath my baby blue blouse, there’s a clobbering in my chest as the voice grows near and then stops. Instinctively, hair falls through my fingers as I lower my head, wishing to remain unseen. Unknown. 

I can’t stop myself, and there I am looking up to see that crinkly-eyed smile through wrenching tears. 

Harry. 

[doctormage]

hi i just need to be really dramatic and long winded bc if i dont get it Out im going to fucking explode

ive actually been trying really hard this semester with my thesis and its REALLY fucking difficult for me. my depression makes me catatonic and unable to complete simple tasks or be motivated to do literally anything; my anxiety paralyzes me at the slightest unexpected change and then obsess over whether everyone in my life hates me because of my anxiety; my sleep schedule is constantly fucked and my doctor is unhelpful; my bdd will sidetrack me from my work and responsibilities for literal hours or days, and sometimes if its feeling spicy send me on a full scale fucking breakdown; and my adhd makes all this shit worse on TOP of all the NORMAL adhd shit. like thats just!!! my life!!!! at all times!!!!! and there have been several times where i have genuinely considered leaving this program or not continuing school after bc i was so fucking overwhelmed and exhausted and scared but i didnt!!! like i make a lot of jokes about procrastinating and wasting my time and doing the least and whatever but in reality its really fucking difficult for me even when im medicated!!! but i dont like admitting that bc of all my exhausting childhood baggage and shit but that is not the point of this rant so anyway

this semester i made a specific effort to try and be a better student even tho all of this stuff has been exacerbated by grad school. i felt i owed it to my director and one of my committee members because theyve been so fucking helpful and put their faith in me and took a lot of their time to help me. i wanted to show them i was worthy of it and capable of being a good student who does all the shit she’s supposed to do, does it well, and does it on time. i overloaded my fall semester and nearly lost my goddamn mind JUST to have a lighter class load this semester so i could focus most of my time on my thesis (like for real that was actually incredibly stupid of me. i lost almost 30 pounds from september to december without conscious effort just because i was so fucking stressed. not a brag and actually kind of concerning bc that has LITERALLY never happened to me). it has been like....significantly taxing, but i wanted to show them how much i appreciate their time and effort and help by being responsible and respectful. my Trying Hard is a lot of people’s Barely Doing Their Best and i know that. turning something in 2 hours early is below average for some but for me, literally anything more than 30 minutes before its due is an actual goddamn miracle. but i wanted to work hard and do things right for my committee members because they deserve it

this christmas my parents asked what i wanted and the ONLY thing i asked for was help with my library dues. last year from like march to october i was significantly depressed and entirely out of my head, and i racked up some pretty bad overdue fees. i didnt even ask them to pay all of it, just some of it. less than $100. im really truly grateful for the gifts they DID get me, but i didnt ask for them for any of it, and my overdue fees were left alone. i was under the impression that they got paid and, like a fucking idiot, i didnt check up on it to confirm. ive been so hell deep in my thesis and teaching and grading and applying to phd programs and looking for apartments and shit that it really just slipped my fucking mind!!! crazy!!!!

today i was in crisis bc i thought i fucked up with scheduling my defense/exam/whatever the fuck. im going to call it defense and i dont give a shit bc everyone calls it some other shit and i dont CARE. anyway i really thought i fucked up but i went and talked it out with my director and it was all sorted out. i’ve gotten like 50% of her feedback on my thesis draft, which i’ve incorporated, and im waiting on comments from another reader (the other helpful person on my committee). we have to run some dumbass software before scheduling, so i ran it today and tried to schedule it but couldnt bc theres a hold on my account. i went on a fucking....ALMIGHTY QUEST to figure it out and i finally discovered that guess what!!!!!!! its my GODDAMN LIBRARY OVERDUE FEES!!!!!! THAT I THOUGHT WERE PAID!!!!!!! i had to pay them myself which is fine idc but it takes several days to process. this fucks up my life on SEVERAL levels

for one, its fucking impossible to get a hold of my third committee member. she is a vapor in the wind. shes like super busy and thats all good and well but the point is theres like zero communication there. i finally got confirmation on a defense date from all 3 members and had been literally planning MY ENTIRE LIFE around this date. after todays first scheduling crisis i was so happy i was still on track, but now this? now i have to wait 3-4 days before i can even SCHEDULE the defense. the super delightful part is that we have to schedule a minimum of 2 weeks in advance. so now i cant schedule my defense until tuesday at the absolute earliest, but that ALSO bumps my defense date several days ahead. i have no fucking clue if my committee is going to agree on another day that works for everyone bc theyre all busy as shit and we’d been working toward the original date for weeks if not months, and im so fucking upset because this is exactly what i DIDNT want to have happen. i havent tried to email them yet because im hoping beyond fucking hope i can call somebody at the university tomorrow and see if the hold is something else besides the fee, but it makes me sick to think of having to be like “oh sorry i know i constantly fuck up everything ever and im a piece of shit but can we change this date we’ve had set since january because i was an extra shitty piece of shit this time??” like OHHH MY GODDDDD

and the thing thats really fucking with me is that like, yes its my fault but this one time its not ENTIRELY 100% my fault. i asked for a favor and had the understanding that it was taken care of. yes the fees were my doing and yes i shouldve checked but oh my fucking god. i feel like all the effort ive put into being a better student this semester has been for fucking nothing because im going to have to email my committee asking for a different date and ruin all their fucking lives and theyll be so disappointed in me. i have like legitimately been crying on and off about it since like 4:30 today

it so shitty in and of itself but i especially dont want to do this to my director bc she is legitimately the reason im finishing this program AND that im going to a phd program. a year ago i’d barely spoken 20 words to her but she still agreed to be a reader on my committee just because she heard me explain my thesis for all of 30 seconds and decided to give it a try. she literally had not read a song of ice and fire at the time and she started reading them for me to help me with my thesis. in the fall when my original director basically threatened to leave my committee if i didnt change all my ideas, my current director stepped in and helped me and talked me through it and then offered to take her place even though my research is BARELY distantly related to hers. through all of this she’s been so insanely patient with me, super encouraging of my ideas both in this project and in others, helped me decide whether it was right for me to get my phd immediately after my masters, proofed and edited and helped me with ALL my phd application materials, and STILL is in the process of reading these goddamn books just to be a better director. i have lost my head so many times and shes always been there to help me figure my shit out, and i wanted to have it figured out for once. how stupid of me

like bumping the date isnt the end of the whole world but its really not just about the fact that i have to reschedule. i was trying real goddamn hard to be a better student this semester and i REALLY fucking owed it to my director and other reader, but especially director, and i still managed to fuck up this bad. i feel like such a DISAPPOINTMENT and it just will not leave my brain bc im so mad at myself. i tried watching shows and youtube compilations about game of thrones and shit but now my bf is asleep and im alone and its all i can think about. im so fucking tired of being the person i am honestly and i dont mean that in an edgy way its just like jesus christ i wish there was less shit wrong with me. i wish i had any kind of willpower or discipline so i couldve learned these skills and been a better student from the start. i wish i wasnt a giant piece of shit!!!!! 

and now im going to be up late being anxious about all this which means that i will, once again, wake up late but also still be really exhausted, which means i’ll do a shitty job teaching and get overwhelmed by everything and who the fuck knows what fun bullshittery will ensue because of it. i am so fucking tired of me and my fuckery and the fact that it fucks with other people even why i try so hard for it not to. tired!!!!!!!! fucking tired

[cannibalisticshadows]

Nightcall (2/2)

[ao3 Link] .    [Part One]

Megamind drops out of the media. Though the media doesn’t drop him.

The spike in his frequent fights with Metro Man has done a complete 360, much to the relief of the locals and to the disappointment of tourists. The news and media alike have leaped onto his sudden change like scavengers to fresh offal. Talk of his recent rendezvous, or lack thereof, are on everyone’s mind.

“He’s a maniac,” some talk-show host said into the speaker, hunched over a desk looking quite aggressive. The screen of the television baths the blue alien in a dull electronic glow illuminated his reflective eyes. He frowns at the person but having no good point to disagree. He’s just offended someone would be so bold to jump into the obvious.

“He’s a maniac, and Metro Man has been taking his sweet-ass time in trying to bring this alien-fuck down. Sure, sure, all-righteous and no-killing and what not. I’m sorry but he’s just pious.” Not just ballsy, but controversial. “My only guess as to why Megamind has abruptly vanished like a phantom is because our city’s hero finally grew a pair and kicked his skinny blue ass into the next life. And by God will none of us miss him. Look at what a shit-show he’s turned this city into—“

Megamind turns the TV off by throwing the remote so hard that it shatters the screen.

Sighing, he crawls out of his little nest of blankets and decides it’s time. He’s been procrastinating enough; he’s done nothing for the past two weeks and it’s getting to his head.

His plan to tell Roxanne started out sounding like the only resort to fixing him and his dumb extraterrestrial make-up, but he’s been pushing it off since he got home the last time he broke out of prison. Who knew he could really raise some hell by simply doing nothing.

Roxanne has made few appearances on television since her last kidnapping. Sadly enough, due to his absence, she had little to do (at least, to the public eye). She was the main reporter, focusing on Metro City’s star inhabitancies. Metro Man had nothing much to do besides helping little old ladies or getting cats from trees—not worthy of making an emergency announcement on the news.

And since he hasn’t seen her, he’s going into such a stump he’s made several near attempts to just show up at her place with no spray. How would she respond?

Well, he’d find out tonight.

He filled the invisible car up with his home-made energy source, making sure it wouldn’t run on empty. Tonight he was going out, far enough to reach the boonies.

And he wouldn’t be alone.

Megamind, unsure of how she’d react but knowing this would be practically life or death for him, grabbed a few essentials. The de-gun. Knock-out spray. Rope. You know. The usual. This had to go as smooth as possible for him to get serious with her, to assure her he’d never bother her again as long as he got this off his chest so he could wallow in misery with a peace of mind.

So, making sure she’s home with the affirmation from one of his spy-bots, Megamind packs up his things in the car and zooms out of the Lair before Minion can so much as ask “Where are you going, Sir?”

When he gets to her building, he uses a brainbot to fly him up to her balcony. She never locks it (Oh, Roxanne, I do question your sanity sometimes), so when he pushes the glass doors open, he enters a relatively quiet domain.

The lights over her tiny kitchen are on, illuminating her one-person apartment. Sniffing, and catching the remnants of her perfume, he follows it until—

“Mega—“ Before he gives her time to even finish saying his self-given name, he whips around and gives her a reasonably large dose of spray. She gasps, eyes roll up, and her body drops in a dead weight. Flinging out an arm he catches her, unable to keep his hungry eyes from the expanse of her pale, bare neck. Megamind splays his fingers across her bare, marveling at seeing her for the first time in weeks. It’s been too long.

Tonight she’s wearing civvies. A pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a white peasant blouse with little red and blue flowers along the neck and sleeves. She’s missed a barber appointment, he thinks, as her hair is exactly two centimeters longer than usual. Her hair’s also a bit damp, curling ever so slightly at the very ends. She not wearing makeup, either, letting him see all of her little brown freckles dusting her cheeks, like little stars in a milky white setting. He licks his lips.

Megamind ties her wrists and covers her mouth with a cheap duck tape. He’s never taped her mouth shut before, but for once he doesn’t want her screaming or complaining. And despite every Hollywood movie where the bad guy tapes the victim’s mouth shut, it’s very possible to remove it without the use of hands.

He carries her out bridal style, whistling for the brainbot to bring him back to the car. Once on the ground, he tucks her into the passenger seat and pulls the belt on, all before getting in himself.

And then he drives. He drives for a long time, content for the moment to sit in silence beside the soft rumble of the car’s engine.

Swerving through Metro City’s night traffic, the city lights gleaming in this never sleeping place, he keeps his head low as he goes, so stressed he finds himself clutching the wheel so hard it threatens to snap. The leather of his gloves scrunches.

They (he; she’s still knocked out) drive out of the midnight city into the rolling countryside, past the lake and past the forests. Lush green hillsides and vast farm lands. He can hear the road scratch under the car tires as asphalt turns into gravel and dirt.

After about forty minutes of driving, he can tell Roxanne is beginning to stir. Quickly, he pulls up beside a huge oak tree in the middle of no where, and void of another living soul for miles.

Well. There is a cow outside but it’s like, ten feet away minding its own business.

As the car comes to a stop, he turns the key and all is instantly quiet.

With a soft grunt, Roxanne squirms in her seat and consciousness slowly comes to. He doesn’t watch her, choosing to star at his bony knees and twiddle his thumbs. All he can hear is her movements, and his own rapidly beating heart.

“M…Mmm?” Her eyes slowly open, blinking in the dim atmosphere. Her eyes then open wider, and she looks around for the usual sights of a kidnapping. Seeing as they’re only in the car, and her mouth is taped, she abruptly begins to struggle.

“Wait!” He says frantically, trying to calm her like one would do for a wild horse. “It’s okay! This isn’t a kidnapping! Well, technically it is but it’s just us—“

“MMM!?” She starts to work her mouth through the tape in earnest, tongue visibly trying to lick at the stickiness.

“Please, wait! This is—I just want to tell you something. Something… important. I promise on my ancestors that you have full permission and more to beat me outside but… please. Just listen to me. Please, Miss Ritchi.”

Her struggling stops, and she turns to him with a suspicious glare. He bows his head, flushing in shame. She hates me.

Though she’s trapped him under an intense stare, snaring him more than he had with her, Roxanne goes still as if awaiting for whatever stupid thing he’s got to say to her.

“I… want to apologize, for my behavior two weeks ago. It was unforgivable.”

“Mm.”

“But—I… I…”

She glares harder. Ashamed of himself, he turns his stare to the dashboard.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t look up to catch her reaction, but she doesn’t respond verbally.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He bangs his forehead against the steering wheel with each confession, feeling all the pint up emotions in him pouring out like water from a broken dam. It burns his insides with glorious relief and bittersweet shame all at once. Yet it keeps flowing. “And I’m so, so sorry. It’s—not my choice, Miss Ritchi. I can’t help it. My b-body…Ah—s—“ he stutters, so anxious it’s close to making him piss himself. He can feel it claw at this throat, threatening tears. “My species… we d-don’t have crooches, like a human. We… fall in love. Hard. And once. Only once. Once and only with one person. And that’s it. We mate for life, like doves. Or beavers. Wolves. I-It doesn’t matter. But once the relationship is formed that’s it. Cheating or finding a second love if the other leaves or dies is purely an earthly concept. My own p-parents, they—they only had eyes for each other. Sex or romance wasn’t even a concept I understood before I met y—…. I didn’t chose you, Miss Ritchi. I didn’t want this to happen. You don’t deserve this. I’ve already turned your life into a living hell, and for that I cannot apologize enough, even onto my grave. My transgressions are unforgivable. Yet, even being here on Earth I cannot…. There is no place for me. My planet, it’s… I’m all that’s left. And Minion. I didn’t think I could possibly imprint on anyone, much less a human, in this way. Yet… I am so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should have known…”

She’s fidgeting ever so softly beside him, he hears the crinkle of the tape.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he takes in a staggering breath, wet tears rolling down his sharp face and trickling on his lips. Salty like the sea.

He can’t bring himself to speak again in fear of weeping like a damn baby, but he feels as vulnerable as one in the moment. Weak. Childish. Pathetic.

The car falls into a silence, with his shaky breaths and a light breeze rolling against the windows. Other than that, it’s as quiet as a void. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, and sees her staring outside at the cow as if it had done something personal to disrespect her.

They sit in silence for a long time.

“I’m done,” he suddenly says.

He hears her move around again.

“I’m… I’m done. With this business,” he gestures to himself in general, to the car, to his gun. “I mean, there are things you don’t know about. Things I’ve done behind cameras. In the underworld. I’ve committed enough sins to last multiple lifetimes over. There’s blood on my hands. Miss Ritchi. Like you wouldn’t believe. And… I’m going to give it up. I can’t keep doing this…

“This such a archaic concept for me. Aah, uh, did you know… Of course you wouldn’t… The males, sometimes even the females, of my kind have to… catch the other sometimes. To express that they feel the same way. Avoids miscommunication or misplaced feelings. My own father… had to sneak into my mother’s household as teenagers to propose to her. It’s—I didn’t even realize it until recently I was courting you! Unconsciously! I’m—God I’m so sorry, Miss Ritchi. I just need to go away. “

She lets out a muffled sound again.

“I’m moving from this place,” he looks around at the vast farmland, the dot of the city in the distance, reflected by his rear-view mirror. “Romania sounds nice. I do a lot of business over there. Lots of forests and hillsides where there’s no one for miles. I can’t bother you or anyone out th—”

Roxanne suddenly spits.

Looking over to her in surprise, he sees she has vanquished the duck tape and has rolled it up in her mouth to spit it onto the dashboard. Turning on one hip, she faces him with such a glower it chills him to the very bone.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” she hisses.

He shrinks in his seat.

“Don’t you dare drop this on me and say you’re just gonna leave!” She yells, pulling against her taped wrists. He opens his mouth to let out a string of never ending apologies, but—she’s starting to cry, he sees, much to his absolute horror. Has he truly upset her this bad? He really was a monster.

“How—you stupid, stupid man,” she cries out, and suddenly—he sees her raise her arms, still taped by the wrist, and he honestly thinks he’s about to be hit when—

She loops her arms around his big blue head and latches onto his neck, yanking him closer and making him clumsily fall onto the stick shift as—

Her mouth is on his. So hard do their mouths come together that their teeth clack, faces clashing together he barely has time to process what’s happening. Gasping, hands wild and unsure in the air as she seemingly tries to suck his soul out, but—he knows what’s happening, mildly, but a bigger part of him is convinced he’s dreaming or hit his head.

The feeling of her lips touching his, though, is electrifying. Every nerve in his body begins to sing and scream all at once, overwhelming him with a sensation override. She moans and presses closer, both of them awkward and clumsy as they clutch at the other from opposite seats. Clutched… he feels his hand involuntarily grab her waist, holding his close but terrified he’s mixing the signals. It feels so so so good, though, and—

She pulls away before he can even realize he was responding back, albeit unsurely. Arms locked around his neck, he mentally curses himself for tying her up. But. It felt like the thing to do at the time.

“You listen to me you son of a bitch,” she viciously spats. “You come to my place, ten’o’freakin’clock at night, and tell me you love me only then to say you’re leaving? What the actual hell!?”

He attempts to pull back, hide in his shell, run away from her furious reprimand, but his neck is still trapped by her arms. Shit. Really a bad decision to tie her up. The alien’s prepared to say something, anything, to show how much of a lowly creature he is in her light, but all that comes out of his throat are choked warbles and whimpers. “I—“

She sniffles.

He meets her eyes in surprise to see two glassy blue orbs meeting his. Frantically, he try to console the weepy female by nervously patting her back. “Ah—M-Miss Ritchi—“

“You were such an A-hole,” she says, sobbing. “Megamind, for once you were actually cruel. It scared me.”

“Oh, oh my dear—No, no, my sweet, no! I wasn’t—“ he swallows. “I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just frustrated. With myself. With my instincts. I—if I behaved any less I would have made a fool of myself.”

“Well, you already did that by yelling at me, you cabbage.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You made me feel like a whore the last kidnapping.”

He remembers that dress she wore. Wine red, rimmed in black. His... comment to it. Megamind bows his head and clenches his whole body. “I am sorry.”

“And you made me worry about you. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Confused, he looks up at her. Roxanne then pulls at her arms and lets him go from between them. Gesturing with her wrists, he catches her drift and pulls out his trusted butterfly knife and whips it out, glad to have something to do with a tool he’s familiar with. Nothing else felt familiar; alien and strange.

As the plastic finally rips away, her skin safe from his sharp little friend, she wraps her hands around his neck and yanks him to her again. Eyes wide, he numbly feels her kiss him a few quick, consecutive times before—

She slaps him in the chest.

He’s nearly got a concussion from how bad the whiplash is.

“Is it true?” Roxanne demands. He’s unable to speak. “Is it true? Do you love m—“

“Yes. Yes, I love you. A million times over.”

This little woman shakes her head, eyes glistening with something he can’t begin to understand. He feels like he’s drowning, with a weight tied to his feet to prevent him to swimming to the surface. He can't breath. She then grabs onto his shoulders. Shaking her head again, she says, “Then don’t go to Romania. Don’t leave Metro City. This place is our-your home.”

“Miss Ritchi, I can’t… stay around you anymore,” his voice breaks. “I can’t without—“

Her lips are on his again.

Shocked, but rapidly trying to learn this new skill she’s apparently trying to teach him, he responds as best he can. Periwinkle blue to unpainted pink, their lips press against each other, seining the warmth and the wet of the other’s mouth. He once saw this activity between lovers an unsanitary and strange thing, but now he understands its meaning. His lips are quite sensitive, and this kissing sets his body to flame, scrambling towards something he can’t seem to catch.

When she pulls away, he follows her, not wanting this connection to end. A tiny bead of saliva snaps between them as their lips depart.

“For such a genius, you can be unbelievably dense.” She cups his face. “I love you Megamind."

What.

"God, I love you. And your behavior, this month—I thought you’d finally lost it. Or just got tired of me.”

His first instinct is to respond yes, yes he has lost it, completely and utterly, but—

“You—you what—“

Roxanne shakes her head again, this time smiling so wide that it nearly reaches her ears, all pearly whites on display for him. She lets him go, finally, letting him think straight. Which is bad because his brain runs in about five hundred directions. Blinking rapidly to disperse the tears in her wet lashes, she continues with, “I’m glad you told me this. Because—I was considering on moving as well.”

He jolts in his seat.

“I sometimes get job offers in other places. This time… I had an offer in Liverpool.”

“Leeverpul!? What’s can you find in Leeverpul?”

“I like the British accent. And it’s far, far away from here.”

Hapless, he stares at his knees.

“Hey,” she pulls him out of his stupor. “Look at me. That’s better. Now. That stuff you said about… imprinting on me? Is that true, too?”

“All of it,” he breaths.

Roxanne nods her head and leans back against the leather seats. “Then listen to me. I love you with all of my heart. I have for a long time, Megamind. So it hurt me, so, so much with how much of a dick you were suddenly turning into. You may as well have stabbed me in the heart.” He winces. “And then you just up and vanished. Gone. Everyone is talking about you!”

He can’t believe what she’s saying. It’s nothing like he ever imagined happening in any probable outcome of this. She… actually… returned his feelings? What??? What witchcraft is this!? He really must’ve bumped his head hard!

“I... know. I see the news. I see my lack of an appearance in the public eye has given you less work… Ah, are you sleeping better?”

She looks at him in confusion.

“You were always falling asleep.”

Roxanne lets out a loud sigh. “I know… I know…”

“Why.” It isn’t a question.

“I always thought you were just a bit ol’sweetheart that grew up on the wrong side of the law. I fall in love with you a little harder every time you goof around like that. I hate that you’re always destroying something or trying to start a fight, but it was a little endearing.” She lets out another loud exhale. “And then you started acting like I was shit under your shoe.”

“N—!“

She raises a hand, and he immediately goes silent.

"So I started drinking. Tried to drink the pain away. But that doesn't work," her voice breaks a bit.

He wants to bang his head against the wall.

“And I hate that you dragged me out here,” she motions toward the countryside. “You don’t have to ship yourself off to God knows where, but stopping the kidnapping would be nice. Even if it’s apart of your… culture.”

“Whatever-Whatever you desire," he swears reverently.

“What I desire,” she says, placing a hand on his knee, “is for you to take me home.”

He nods, expecting that answer.

“And I want you to come up with me. We’re gonna have a talk.”

“O-kay...?”

Suddenly she leans over again and presses his lips to his cheek. With his breath hitching, because its still a lovely, foreign feel to him, she adds, “And then I’m going to show you how much I love you, too.”

“W—“

“I know you, Megamind. I can see it in your face. Now. Take us home, sweetheart.” She kisses his lips again.

This time he knows what to do, and copies her actions better than before. It feels like fireworks.

He’s glad he told her.

[sadrien]

wanna chat? pt.19

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

so this is like...twice as long as a normal chapter. anyway i was in les mis the other week and i sent something and someone thought it was a les mis chapter of wanna chat. and @reyxa​ encouraged it so Here We Are

this chapter continues right off of the last one because i found a note with sick quotes on it. i kept the les mis as light and understandable as possible but just like..let me know if it makes 0 sense. i had to get this out of my system because ive been in a writing funk

(mari = cough cough, nino = space bro, alya = alys, adrien = glen coco)

enjoy? 

3:12 in boo you whore

cough cough: gmoring i cant brethe out of mynose rn Im not goin g ot be in school today :( Bu ti cant sleep anymore because I cnat breath e iim gonna go watch youtube videos

 6:37

space bro: my dude i hope youre feeling better when you wake up

6:43

glen coco: If you’re not turn on the shower really hot and sit in the bathroom with the steam

alys: or drown urself in cold medicine

glen coco: Don’t do that

space bro: never listen to alya

alys: dont listen to these traitors

PM between glen coco and cough cough

glen coco: I bet the akuma attack last night really didn’t help Don’t worry about anything today I can handle it unless it’s another akuma Just get some rest <3

10:03 in boo you whore

cough cough: Self care is chugging five cups of tea and astral projecting behind a mcdonalds to punch hawkmoth in the face

11:46

glen coco: Mari no

alys: mari yes

space bro: mari wtf

cough cough: Im dyin g

alys: tag urself im punching hm in the face

space bro: im astral projection

glen coco: Five c ups of tea

cough cough: Does that make me the mcdonalds

space bro: congrats mari

glen coco: I can’t believe Mari is the golden arches

alys has changed their name to punching hawkmoth in the face

punching hawkmoth in the face: im finally my True Self gang follwo suit

cough cough: Why shoul d I LISten to you

punching hawkmoth in the face: bc u love me and want me 2 b happy and also bc i still have ur jacket in my bedroom

cough cough: Fuck

cough cough has changed their name to mcdonalds

space bros: al youre ridic

punching hawkmoth in the face: just do it babe

space bros has changed their name to astral projection

astral projection: there ya go

glen coco: Rip Glen Coco

punching hawkmoth in the face: truly a her o of his generation :’(

mcdonalds: RIp

glen coco has changed their name to five cups of tea

five cups of tea: Rebirth

mcdonalds: I hate you all img oing ot bed

punching hawkmoth in the face: goodnight my darlign <3

astral projection: nap well bro hopefully you feel better when you wake up

 15:37

punching hawkmoth in the face: remind me to throw my bag in the seine i dont wanna do hw :(

astral projection: i feel you

punching hawkmoth in the face: wanna get togheter and do hw

astral projection: do homework or “do homework”

punching hawkmoth in the face: have u ever met me “””””””do homework”””””””

astral projection: i need to figure out physics my dude

punching hawkmoth in the face: D’:

five cups of tea: I can help you when I get home tonight

punching hawkmoth in the face: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

astral projection: the real mvp i love you

five cups of tea: I love you too Have fun Use protection

astral projection: alya please kick him out of the chat

punching hawkmoth in the face: no i like him

astral projection: fuck

 18:57 mcdonalds: Screens hurt my head irhgt now Im gonna watch reruns and keep sleepng

punching hawkmoth in the face: feel better babe <3

 22:15

five cups of tea: Ok so the other day instead of doing homework I started reading les mis ANd now instead of doing homework I’m reading les mis again I can’t believe this is how I’m procrastinating

astral projection: what

punching hawkmoth in the face: the musical????

five cups of tea: No the book Which the musical is based off of

astral projection: what a nerd

punching hawkmoth in the face: lmao how is it

five cups of tea: Old Long

punching hawkmoth in the face: how long?

five cups of tea: Uhhh 655,000 words

mcdonalds: jesus

astral projection: what the actual fuck

punching hawkmoth in the face: holllllly fuck

astral projection: you my dude are unreal

punching hawkmoth in the face: for fun???? r u sure this is for fun???????

five cups of tea: I think so? It’s kind of boring sometimes and hard to get through but other parts are really good Also if I’m reading I don’t have to practice chinese

punching hawkmoth in the face: touche

astral projection: have fun reading bro you are unbelievable

PM between five cups of tea and mcdonalds

five cups of tea: Hey why are you up? I thought you were heading off to bed a while ago?

mcdonalds: I didnt take nyquil tonight because I felt a little better and didnt want to pass the fuck out again but now Im awake and cant sleep because my head feels like its gonna explode And I regret So much

five cups of tea: Aw no poor bug

mcdonalds: Ugh

five cups of tea: Do you want anything?

mcdonalds: You dont have to

five cups of tea: Do you want anything? If you want soup I can get you some

mcdonalds: Its like???? Really late?????

five cups of tea: Mar its only 20:30

mcdonalds: Oh It feels like 1 But its still late

five cups of tea: Ok well Late night food is not a new thing Trust me

mcdonalds: … If you brought me soup Id love you forever

five cups of tea: I thought you already did

mcdonalds: Id love you even more

five cups of tea: I’ll be on my way soon

mcdonalds: I love you so much <3

23:35 in boo you whore

punching hawkmoth in the face: what if you took tea in shots like shot glasses

five cups of tea: Like with hot tea?

astral projection: i feel like thats a good way to burn your entire mouth

five cups of tea: *entire life

astral projection: ^^^

punching hawkmoth in the face: hmmm

five cups of tea: Alya no

astral projection: yeah bad idea

punching hawkmoth in the face: f i n e

 1:02

mcdonalds: sos Im dying I constantly feel like Im about to sneeze If I dont feel that way its cause Im sneezing

astral projection: rip my dude guessing you cnat sleep while sneezing

mcdonalds: Nope :’( End my suffering please

astral projection: no can do i can offer virtual hugs

mcdonalds: I guess thatll work for now

astral projection: <3

2:03

PM between five cups of tea and mcdonalds

five cups of tea: Hey Hey Marinette Hey I have something to show you

mcdonalds: Adrien its 2 in the morning

five cups of tea: So? You’re up too

mcdonalds: I slept all day

mcdonalds: Yeah but you’re awake right now

mcdonalds: … Fine Hit me

five cups of tea: “When they had finished, when they had told each other everything, she laid her head on his shoulder and asked him: ‘What is your name?’” Us

mcdonalds: Oh my go d This is les mis right??? What youw ere talking about before??

five cups of tea: Yup

mcdonalds: Omg Why are you like this

five cups of tea: Ok but am I wrong????

mcdonalds: I cant say you are tbh

five cups of tea: Man I feel like Marius am I like Marius??

mcdonalds: Whats he like?

five cups of tea: Kind of oblivious, pretty romantic but sort of in a weird way, awkward, usually confused but can be scary if he needs to, handsome as hell and love of my life that I would honestly leave all three of you for

mcdonalds: Wow Are you sure you havent already

five cups of tea: :P Actually….

mcdonalds: Are you suddenly realizing youve left us for a fictional character

five cups of tea: No I was oging to say I might be more like Bossuet

mcdonalds: Youre just saying words I dont know who that is

five cups of tea: He always has bad luck Like always Ummmm hold on

mcdonalds: K Who would I be???

five cups of tea: “He was the constant victim of mischance, hence his merriment. He said, ‘I spend my life walking under ladders.’”

mcdonalds: Ok you mgiht be this Bossuet you bad luck magnet

five cups of tea: For you Hmmmm Enjolras?

mcdonalds: Not cosette??  Shes the love interest right

five cups of tea: As much as I love you Enjolras is the leader in red And I just can’t help myself

mcdonalds: Nerd Are you goind to do alya and nino too?

five cups of tea: D u h

 2:34

mcdonalds: Adrien?? You ok? Youve been quiet for a while Or did you fall asleep on your computer again

five cups of tea: No I’m here I’m just Stuck This is haarrrrrdddddddddd Alya and Nino are just so deep and complex and awesome and I dont’ know how to place them???

mcdonalds: True But wow Slightly offended

five cups of tea: Hey yours is based on a pun I can pun easy

mcdonalds: G o to sleep kitten You can sort them in the mornign Later this morning

five cups of tea: Fine I hope you’re feeling better

mcdonalds: A little bit!! The soup definitely helped Night <3

five cups of tea: Night <3

10:25 in boo you whore

astral projection: saturdays are chill but my mom wants us to clean the entire apartment today and im not about that life

 12:12

mcdonalds has changed their name to enjolras

enjolras: I have no idea who thi s is but I hope it makes Adrien happy

punching hawkmoth in the face: ???? wahts ahppenign

enjolras: Adrien said I was this charactera t like 2

astral projection: why the fuck do none of you people value sleep

punching hawkmoth in the face: how theh ell did that even come up in conversation

enjolras: He was saying he thinks hes like Marius

astral projection: huh

five cups of tea: I’m not sure yet

astral projection: bro!!!

five cups of tea: I'm thinking either Marius or bossuet for myself

punching hawkmoth in the face: r we supposed 2 know the second one

enjolras: Hes got bad luck Thats what I got from our convo when no one else was awake

punching hawkmoth in the face: change ur name i want u2b the hopeless romantic

astral projection: isnt he already??

punching hawkmoth in the face: lmao

five cups of tea has changed their name to marius

punching hawkmoth in the face: awesome were u gonna do nino and i??

marius: Yeah I’m just having some trouble

astral projection: yeah were just too unique to be put into little boxes

marius: Exactly

astral projection: that was sarcasm but i love you so much

marius: <3

punching hawkmoth in the face: hey question not that im doubting maris badassary but why enjolras

marius: Enjolras is incredibly passionate and would do anything for his friends and the people of Paris Reminds me of how Marinette is as class president

PM between marius and enjolras

enjolras: Nice save

marius: Thanks

in boo you whore

astral projection: I see it

marius: Alya could be eponine?

punching hawkmoth in the face: shes the one who cries about marius right

marius: Well I was actually thinking her cause Ponine she knows her way around And all that stuff But yes she cries about Marius she does have a song about that

PM between punching hawkmoth in the face and astral projection

punching hawkmoth in the face: lmao did he just give me the character hopelessly in love with marius

astral projection: rip

punching hawkmoth in the face: end my life

in boo you whore

punching hawkmoth in the face: i cna work with that

punching hawkmoth in the face has changed their nickname to eponine

astral projection: and then tehre was one

marius: I’m struggling

enjolras: Arent we all

eponine: Id help but I know literally nothing other than some of the lyrics RED THE BLOOD OF BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD

astral projection: theres no way that isnt right im 100% sure those are the actual words

eponine: BLACK THE BLOOD OF BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD

enjolras: Period mood

eponine: general mood

enjolras: Ok same

eponine: mood: red and black but the only words are blood

enjolras renamed this conversation to “red the blood of blood blood blood”

eponine: yes exactly

astral projection: sometimes i wonder why im friends with you

eponine: because u love us and would be sad without us

astral projection: ok yes but also why

marius: I mean maybe Grantaire? He’s a jack of all trades? Nino you are…really hard to place But R might be the best bet

enjolras: Wait a minute R?

marius: Yes

enjolras: Get out of this chat

marius: </3

astral projection: that is amazing

astral projection has changed their nickname to grantaire

grantaire: in it for the puns

marius: So is Hugo

enjolras: Who

marius: The writer of les mis

eponine: tag yourself im les miserables all of them

grantaire: you cant be all the miserables

eponine: watch me try

marius: Sorry you must have no idea what’s going on

grantaire: not really we have nothing to contribute but keep going dude!!! i love to hear you ramble

eponine: oh oh i have something to contribute

enjolras: You do?

eponine: 24601? more like 246 so done with your shit

enjolras: Im leaving the country

grantaire: whos shit?

eponine: uh oh fuck whos the antagonist again

marius: Society

grantaire: deep

enjolras: Stop being fake deep

eponine: feep anyway no u butt the police dude

marius: The only evil in les mis IS society And the Thenardiers OH JAVERT

eponine: YES THANK YOU

marius: Javert: do not forget my name Alya: forgets his name

eponine: fuck you also 246 so done with your shit javert

grantaire: thank you for clarifying

eponine: no prob

enjolras: Ok so Im googling stuff to try and figure out whats happening And wow This is depressing ¾ of us die

marius has changed their nickname to bossuet

bossuet: Now all of us die

eponine: nope change back 2 lover boy ur not dying too

grantaire: um no one is dying my dudes

bossuet: We’re always dying But fine

bossuet has changed their nickname to marius

enjolras: Im pretty sure Im dying righ tnow I almost coughed up a lung

eponine: GO TAKE MEDICIN E

enjolras: You arent my mom!!!!!!!!!

eponine: THAT DOESNT MEAN I DONT CCARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR HEALTH!!!!!!!!!

enjolras: AHHHHH

eponine: AHHHHHH

grantaire: Ahhhhh?

marius: Ahhhhh

[sodasyrup]

DAILY ANON SPAM

i really let these build up

DAY 315: nah lol it okay. I was able to write, I was just staring at the screen. and I wrote more until I finished the second chapter today!!!!

congrats on writing!

DAY 316: THIS THUNDERSTORM IS A STRONG BOY TODAY OH FUCK!!! I actually heard the thunder even with my earbuds in max volume 😳

i fuckin love thunderstorms..........

DAY 317: I didn't get to write today 😔 honestly quite tired but I got to have hot chocolate so that's good

WHORE

DAY 318: I was able to write and we're supposed to have really bad storms today!!!!! also I almost fell asleep before doing this lmao

Whore redacted

DAY 320: in a gift event and got my giftee. I'm so excited to start writing for them!!!!!!

day missing?

DAY 321: I was so distracted today and I don't know why 😔 also I really want a switch so I can play animal crossing but I don't want to burden my parents

oh.... if u get a switch we can play naminal crosigns 

DAY 322: OH MY GOSH, THAT'S AMAZING!!! GOOD JOB!!!! :D!!!!!!!!!!

COLLEGE TIME BABY!

DAY 323: this whole week, 0/10 for me. I've been so forgetful and keep procrastinating. the only reason I am able to finish what I have done so far is because of sprints 😓 oh well! but I'm tired so sleepy time night!!!

oh babe sorry. i hope u slept well

DAY 324: dunno if I already mentioned this, but I'm in two birthday events and I already reached the first minimum word count for one of them and am halfway to the other event's word count minimum!!! :D

time to pass the MAXIMUM WORD COUNT

DAY 325: I GOT MY UNDERCUT SHAVED AGAIN!!!! HOORAY!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK! YEA! GAY! RIGHTS!

DAY 326: my legs hurt from standing so much reorganizing my clothes 😪

id rather die than organize my clothes

DAY 327: I WENT OUTSIDE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A MONTH AND WATCHED TWO MOVIES I RENTED!!! Sonic was really good and Birds of Prey too!!!

outside......... *smacks u* dont get infected 

DAY 328: my knee HURTS!!! also I really hope I can get a new laptop soon so I don't have to worry about it and can write freely

*rips out ur knee* you deserve so much 

DAY 329: I have one day left of "school" and I doubt I even have much to do and I hate it :( but how have you been? are you doing good?

u did it..... today was my last day of work! twinsies....even tho im LATE

DAY 330: I'm gonna miss everyone but at least soon I will be able to sign up to finish my driving lessons and then focus on my writing completely :D

oh fuck epix! i cant drive im gay

DAY 331: my knee hurts but I finally figured out how I want my gift fic to keep going!!! also I hate america once again but I love the people who are rioting because honestly, I'm surprised we haven't lost our patience sooner

FIX UR FACKIN KNEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also god america is awful but my heart goes out to the protesters 

DAY 332: don't know if you've heard about pride///fall but be careful, okay? also I'm pretty sure there was a protest not too far where I live. however it ended, I'm just proud

ive heard of it but idc too much ive been around for awhile i know the internet well enough to just shrug it off. more concerned for others

DAY 333: dude it's okay. don't force yourself to answer them all at once. almost all of my daily anons have been written while I was half asleep in bed anyway, I vibe with that

owo........i answered them ALL

DAY 335: thanks dude. it's just painful to see innocent people be hurt or k*lled. nothing about this is right and I hate so much of this world right now. I can only hope things get better from here

MISSING A DAY

also yeah it sucks so much but we can work towards something better, together

DAY 336: I made ramen two hours ago and ate it. in the middle of the night. my stomach may not agree fully but I don't regret it. also I cannot type at all today

i think ramen just does that? makes u shit ur pants

DAY 337: currently crying because I just finished reading a fic and I'm just emotional. I knew what was gonna happen because of the major character death warning but jesus fuck, it hurt so much in the end. I loved it. 15/10

i cant read angst no comfort it makes me depressed

DAY 338: I've had a headache this whole day 😔 and I think I'm starting to feel bored and lonely. I might take a walk at some point or just sleep a lot

:^(

sorry man, NZ has been out of lockdown for awhile. hope you feel better soon

DAY 339: I said fuck it and had ramen again at like midnight, however much my stomach disagrees be damned. and now I am sated uwu

RAMEN MAKES U POOPY!

DAY 340: sleeby... but playin sims... and eating cheese... mmmmmmm 😋

sims......chehze....... mlemlemelme

DAY 341: leggy hurts but I have ice cream so I guess it balances out uwu

dude fix your leg serious go to a doctor or something

DAY 342: it was raining today!!!! and I loved it!!!! it was so windy!!!!!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i love rain when im not in it

DAY 343: I finished drawing a second of and started my third! I love them all so far

ART! CONGRATS!

DAY 344: I was sad today but I had two cups of hot coco and did several sprints so I'm feeling better now :)

coco is very nice, you deserve it

DAY 345: it got cold all of a sudden??? excuse me, how rude. anyway, it's hot chocolate time!!!! imma add a little salt

the cold is me sucking away ur- wait wait wait salt in your fucking coco?

DAY 346: it was cold as a BITCH last night and it's cold again!!! 😭 at least I got blankets and hot chocolate 😋

SALTY HOT CHOCOLATES?

DAY 347: I might have allergies, idk. but I can finally finish up my driving lessons!! and I finished my required hours so woohoo!!!

i’ll sneeze in ur mouth to fix ur allergies 

DAY 346: okay but real talk- I'll probably stop doing these after I do a whole year if that's okay. and I finishing up my driving lessons!

THATS FINE BABE one whole year like. fuckin dedicated!

DAY 349: I just realized I messed up the day number for the last one *dies* goddamnit. anyway, early sleepy time!!!!!! uwu

you’ve messed up a few but its ok bc youve done this for a fucking YEAR

DAY 350: MY BODY FUCKING HURTS????? rude. I don't even know why, it just did

im gonna remove ur bones

DAY 351: oof writing is hard and drawing is hard. goddamnit life is hard. BUT THAT WON'T STOP ME

i wish i had hands to draw and write