#you aren’t going to stop people from talking

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search. 

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition. 

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received. 

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all. 

Yours truly, 

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there. 

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea. 

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws. 

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed. 

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom. 

Yours truly, 

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew 

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention. 

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them. 

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama. 

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters. 

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.” 

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them. 

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?” 

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?” 

“Everything is wrong with that.” 

“Hmm.” 

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face. 

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.” 

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?” 

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.” 

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.” 

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.  

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said. 

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.” 

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud: 

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered. 

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her. 

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.” 

“Piss off.” 

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms. 

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.” 

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.” 

“Please, just give u—” 

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.” 

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.” 

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.” 

“I second that.” 

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.” 

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything. 

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?” 

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.” 

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.” 

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society. 

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today. 

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps. 

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness. 

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get. 

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham. 

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month. 

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen. 

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.” 

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?” 

“Not your room?” 

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.” 

“You are getting restless.” 

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?” 

“Oh yes, she’s fine.” 

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.” 

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name. 

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact. 

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.” 

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.” 

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.” 

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?” 

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.” 

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?” 

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.” 

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?” 

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.”  

“And, by the way, I already washed up.” 

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.” 

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room. 

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora. 

“Oh, good. It is just you.” 

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?” 

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.” 

“What?” 

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.” 

“Your Highness.” 

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.” 

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.” 

She gasped as you hugged her. 

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.” 

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.” 

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.  

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination. 

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?” 

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it. 

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs. 

“Is there a problem, Marshall?” 

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.” 

“WHAT?!” 

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back. 

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance. 

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss. 

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…” 

“Keaton,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name. 

“Mrs. Keaton?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all. 

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.” 

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.” 

You nodded. “Simply Miss Keaton.” 

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.” 

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues. 

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.” 

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.” 

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.” 

They all chuckled when you laughed. 

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.” 

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you. 

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?” 

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.” 

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?” 

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time. 

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.” 

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.” 

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.” 

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.  

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

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[auras-moonstone]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ guilty as sin ?

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.2k

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: step brother!ethan landry x step sister!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 based on: guilty as sin? by taylor swift

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: step siblings trope. they are not blood-related. their parents aren’t even married, just dating. tension. implication of dirty thoughts/dreams, but nothing explicit. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hi! it’s been almost a month since the last time i posted, i’m so sorry. between college and work, i barely have time to breathe so my writing slowed down a lot. besides, my dog hasn’t been doing so good lately so, even though i try to write a bit at home to distract me, my head’s not really in it.

today marked twelve months of wondering why—why, of all people, did they have to fall for each other? it marked a whole year of torture for y/n and ethan, a year of having to lock their longing down in a vault everyday, every hour of the day. being forced to have the person you yearn for constantly close to you when you couldn’t have them had to be the cruelest way of living.

it was on days like this, when their parents left them completely alone in the house, that things got heavy. without the two living reminders of why they couldn’t be out of the picture, lines got blurry for the step-siblings.

the two of them were sitting by the coffee table doing their assignments when y/n let out a frustrated groan. “what’s wrong, grumpy?” ethan asked.

“i’m stuck at this equation.”

“let me see.” he slid closer to her and looked down at the notebook over her shoulder. the smell of coconut invaded his senses and he put all of his strength into stopping himself from burying his nose in the crook of her neck and press his lips against her soft skin. she was so irresistible, everything about her made him weak in the knees. “here, you forgot to pass the number to negative.”

“oh… right. sorry. it completely went over my head.” she let out a nervous chuckle. the feeling of his hot breath against the back of her ear made her senses go so wild she felt like her body was shutting down.

“it’s okay, i think you’re just stressed.” ethan said moving back to his place, and y/n was allowed to breathe again.

“yeah, my head feels like exploding” y/n said. now that ethan was fully facing her, he took notice of her flushed cheeks. was it because of him? he shouldn’t hope so, but he really did. “should we make dinner?”

no, ethan almost said. he just wanted to drag her into his lap and kiss the fuck out of her gorgeous face. but unless the gods hear his prayers and their parents broke up, ethan was going to have to settle for recalling in his head things they never did.

having visions about his step-sister wasn’t exactly right, but someone once said: there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. so, without ever touching her skin, how could he be guilty as sin?

“what are you in the mood for?” y/n asked as they walked to the kitchen.

“pasta?” he suggested.

“yes.” she did a little bounce. “i love your salsa.”

they danced around the kitchen with meticulous steps, making sure they didn’t bump into the other. even one brush could be dangerous when no one was around and they knew it.

“here, try it.” ethan raised a spoon with a bit of salsa. y/n moaned in delight at the taste and ethan’s grip on the spoon tightened. the night barely started and control was already slipping through his fingers. “jesus christ.”

y/n’s eyes met his lust-filled ones and her heart felt like collapsing. “ethan…” her tone was almost begging.

“we should eat in our rooms. separately.” the words rushed out of his mouth as he took a step back. her disappointing eyes pierced his heart, but they just couldn’t. one kiss would never be enough, and doing it regularly was a risk. who knows what their parents would do if they found out, and ethan would rather be miserable with her around than miserable without her.

with one quick nod, y/n served the plates completely defeated. it killed ethan to reject her, but he knew it was the right thing. or so he thought, because once he was alone in the four walls of his bedroom, the what ifs started invading his mind and a pint of regret swarm through his chest.

after an hour of overthinking, he decided they needed to talk. cards needed to be put on the table, and then they could figure out how to go on—which option should they choose, keep on ignoring their feelings or risk everything by not holding back anymore.

ethan was about to knock but his fist froze mid-air when he heard her laboured breaths and then the sound of his name being screamed. on the other side of the door, y/n woke up with her sheets ablaze and sweaty skin.

she’s had fantasies about her and ethan, but none like that one. it all had been innocent, she never dared to cross that line but tonight the tension had been so intense between the two, her brain absorbed it and painted it into a dangerous dream which made her feel guilty and sinful.

“i need to shower.” she muttered, feeling disgusted by herself. but when she opened the door of her room, she crashed into the object of her fatal fantasies. “ethan?” she squealed. “what are you doing here? h-how long—?” but he couldn’t utter a word, and that was her answer. “shit. i’m so sorry, ethan. i’m just- i’m gonna hide in my room for the rest of eternity.”

she turned around and entered her room again, but before she could scold herself for the awkwardness she had caused, the door flew open. suddenly, her front was pressed against a hard chest and full lips collided with hers.

like reflect, her fingers tangled around the soft brunet locks and ethan hummed in content. the kiss started harsh and needy, but soon turned into a sweeter one.

“you’re like a paradox, you know that?” she whispered in a breath. ethan made a questioning sound. “one moment you’re escaping me and then you come to my room and cross the line you’ve been trying so hard to draw.”

ethan grabbed her hand and guided her to the bed. y/n snuggled his side as ethan rubbed her arm affectionately. “i was stupid to think we could keep ignoring the pull between us. today was…”

“definitely intense.” she finished and he agreed. “how do we go on?”

“i want you to be my girlfriend, but we will have to be careful for a while.” ethan said. “we won’t be able to keep it a secret for too long.”

“they’re going to kill us.” y/n sighed, tracing the shape of his lips with her fingertips.

“but what a way to die.” he pressed a kiss on her hand “we’re going to be like romeo and juliet.”

y/n held back a grin “romeo and juliet weren’t killed, they committed suicide.”

“whatever, smartass.” he pinched her side. “for real though. we won’t be able to hide this forever, not if we want a long term relationship. we’ll have to tell them and they’ll probably be furious. are you sure you’re in?”

“i’m all in, ethan. i choose you and me, forever.” she assured him.

“forever sounds amazing.” ethan looked down at her with lovesick eyes.

they stayed in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth. ethan’s fingers were moving against her skin, making her feel relaxed. after a few seconds, she realized he was drawing an specific pattern, and a wide smile broke into her face—ethan was writing ‘mine’ in her upper thigh.

“you’re so sweet you’re going to make my heart explode.” she hugged him tightly, hiding her warm cheeks in his chest.

“hey, now that i have you, i’m not holding back. i’m going to be so sweet to you it’s going to disgust you eventually.”

“i’m a sucker for sweet gestures so bring it on.”

“challenge accepted.”

[revscarecrow]

Translation of post:

I was bullshitting when I said I knew what the charity streams were this year. I thought that since one was done for Ukraine, one would possibly for done for Palestine or Israel (I don’t support Israel, I’m just insinuating your friends would). Everyone would most likely have a bad take, because they aren’t as political as you, possibly even being zionists. The pediatric cancer research fund and the Palestine children’s relief fund have the same acronym. Therefore, if they announced the charity stream for the cancer fund with the acronym, everyone would assume it would be for Palestine. I want you to stop being friends with the vinesauce circle, because they probably don’t have very good politics. The only other vinesauce related person to have ever done anything with Palestine stuff (to my knowledge) was Gpm, and that time it was apparently an accident. I’m not expecting a charity stream for Palestine, nor am I expecting any of them to speak about it, because I feel like they would all have bad takes. You do not need to tell them to do anything. But I generally feel like you shouldn’t be friends with any of them, because I feel they’re not leftist enough. Besides, from what I remember, Joel set up the Ukraine thing (I might be extremely wrong) and since he is from europe, he probably did it because he felt threatened by russia.

tldr: I think your friends are probably zionists. Tbh, until they show otherwise, I believe that most content creators/Jewish people are.

Alright I gave this another go this morning and I'll give you a hot tip. This shit does make more sense when sober. Evil until proven otherwise is an wild purity test. Assuming all Jewish people support Isreal is also a hell of a take. Not being friends with people because they don't do thier job just like me is also a fucked up take. It's a really really bad move financially to talk the way I do. 1. Because gamers are only political when it regards titty censorship or the occasional shitty boycott (until the next big announcement happens). 2. It also pisses people off who agree with me because they might know I'm right and have been dealing with it and fighting the good fight and now when they come home to relax I'm also talking about it as well. Sometimes people just want to turn off their brains and for good reason. Activist burn out is real. So this thing I do is a really bad idea in general but I'm the type of person who can't shut up so I do it anyway. That doesn't mean that everyone has the same view point on how to do this streaming YouTube thing. It just means that's how I do it. Watch who you want for whatever reason you want but don't tell me who to be friends with or how to do my job and expect me to follow your directives.

[suashii]

— 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 ౨ৎ

haitani rindou x reader. 1.3k w.c. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au-ish :3 ﾉ just some rindou lovin' ﾉ repost!

it’s been a while since you've been out with your friends. can you really call them that, though? they are classmates at the very least, ones that feel compelled to invite you to their gatherings. it’s thoughtful, you’ll give them that, but part of you wishes they didn’t. maybe the outing is just boring or maybe they have all grown dull, but either way, it’s easy to zone out in their presence. their chatter seems distant. you don’t even really know what they’re talking about—something regarding everyone’s plans for this saturday.

“what about you?” the girl beside you nudges your ribs to gain your attention—and it works. the jab is surprisingly painful given how small she is. “can you make it?”

“sorry, i already have plans with someone else.”

“aww,” she whines at your answer, “who are you hanging out with? maybe they can tag along.”

“rindou.”

all the idle chatter at the table stops upon the mere utterance of his name. suddenly, all eyes are on you. he’s popular, but not for the right reasons. not many people are fond of him. and you never minded that, but the people who dislike him don’t just dislike him; they’re afraid of him. so although you have no problem associating yourself with him, you’ve learned quickly that bringing him up around others often leads to unsavory reactions. you slipped up at this moment.

“you mean… haitani rindou?”

“mhm.” you’re aware of the common consensus when it comes to rindou and what people think of him, but you want to test the waters and see how your peers perceive him. “why? what’s wrong with him?”

the replies flood in like a tsunami.

“he only hangs out with his brother and you know how much trouble ran is.”

“yeah, they’re total scumbags. i’m pretty sure they’ve almost gotten arrested—and on multiple occasions at that.”

“you’re perfectly capable of surrounding yourself with better company. why on earth would you want to be seen with him?”

“that’s really none of your concern.” the last comment strikes a nerve and causes you to raise your voice. shocked eyes accompanied by gaping mouths stare at you in surprise. you don’t know why you expected their responses to be any different. everyone jumps to the same conclusion and they aren’t an exception. their feelings about him are crystal clear. if they think so poorly of him, they have no place in your life. “and i’d rather not talk to you guys if you’re going to continue to speak about him like that. i’m leaving now.”

and with that, you stand up, collect your things, and start on your way home.

• • •

rindou is in the kitchen when you walk through the door. a head of blonde hair sits at the small table, slurping up ramen noodles. the steam wafting from the bowl leaves the lenses of his gold-framed glasses foggy. your keys clatter when they meet the ceramic of the dish that holds little things like chapstick and mini box cutters. the noise grabs rindou’s attention, his gaze abandoning his food in favor of looking at your figure that approaches to take a seat next to him. he didn’t think he would see you back so soon; it felt like you had just left. but he doesn’t say a word, instead, offering you the noodles hanging from his chopsticks. you lean forward to accept the mouthful of spicy ramen. every other bite of what remains in the bowl is reserved for you.

you stay attached to his hip for the rest of the day; helping him wash the dishes even though it’s your least favorite chore, sitting in his lap and snuggling into his neck as he boots up his computer to play who knows what game with his friends—you even go as far as getting comfortable on the lid of the toilet while he takes his shower for the night. it isn’t unusual for you to take care of his hair once he emerges from the steamy room, combing out the tangled strands of blonde and blue before pulling out the hair dryer. after the locks are fluffy and dry, his hair sits in a neat bun on the top of his head. the only pieces that escape are the ones not quite long enough to be tied up with the rest.

you wonder if your actions came off as overbearing; not that you would care if they did. the conversation from earlier reminded you of how poorly people regarded your boyfriend. someone has to love him when everyone else thinks so little of him, and you’re more than happy to be that person.

and you’re content at the moment, practically lying on top of him, your fingers tracing each curve of the black ink tattooed into his skin. you can feel the thumping of his heart, hear the rhythmic beat of it in your ear.

“what’s wrong?” rindou speaks up out of the blue. so then he had noticed the shift in your behavior.

“what do you mean?” you feign ignorance. you know rindou was fully aware of his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to shield him from the harshness of others.

“you’re even clingier than usual.”

“i’m not clingy,” you mumble against his chest.

“mm, yeah, you are.” he pinches your cheek that isn’t pressed against him. it doesn’t hurt but you look up at him regardless. lilac eyes peer down at you. the blank expression on his face may not show it, but his gaze is enough to tell you that he’s concerned. “are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

rindou isn’t the type to push you, to make you tell him something you aren’t ready to tell. if you told him you didn’t want to talk about it, you were sure he’d let it go. but since it’s weighing so heavily on your mind, maybe it is best to share. “i brought your name up in front of some classmates and they said some pretty rude stuff about you.”

he snorts as if what you were worried about was silly. and to him, it is. it doesn’t bother him—the wandering eyes, the hushed whispers, the anxious avoidance. everything that you seem to be hyperaware of is the norm for rindou. and he can understand why it upsets you, he wouldn’t want people speaking ill of you, but he’s accustomed to his bad reputation. “i thought i told you not to let stuff like that get to you. you know i don’t give a shit about what people think.”

“well, i do.” maybe you shouldn’t, not to the extent you do, anyway. but after getting to know rindou, the real rindou, you can’t help but feel offended when people reduce him to nothing more than a no-good criminal. sure, he isn’t a saint, but he’s far from evil. what gave them the right to form opinions when they only got a glimpse of one side of him? “they shouldn’t get to judge you if they don’t even know you.”

he lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh, the breath heaving from his chest causing your head to raise. though, not long after, his lips find their way to your hairline, pressing a light kiss to the skin. his hand runs up and down your arm, “it doesn’t matter how often i tell you, huh?”

“nope.” you shamelessly reply. you’ll never stand for people demeaning the man you’ve come to love.

“how stubborn,” he clicks his tongue. it’s clear that this was a matter he won’t be able to change your mind on. of course, he doesn’t care what people think about him, but seeing you so protective of him and his image is oddly endearing. “so what, are you my defender or something?”

“mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes drift shut, “now and always.”

thanks for reading! pls consider reblogging or commenting if u enjoyed :3

[causenessus]

new grounds

part 0.6. TOXIC TRAIT . . . 1.5.2024

PLAYING IN THE CAFE . . . atomic vomit by steve lacy

it’s 10 o’clock. not in the afternoon, at night. she’s huddled in a corner next to keiji, the both of them leaning on each other and periodically dozing off and then shaking the other awake. 

kageyama is a few feet away from her on her right, playing with his hands as they wait for their manager who is late as per usual.

yachi is a little more energetic, sitting a chair’s distance away on keiji’s side, swinging her feet as she scrolls on her phone. she giggles at something which draws all of their attention.

“akaashi,” she says, turning towards him. “do you want to tell me about this condom thing?”

“oh god,” keiji removed his arm from around y/n’s shoulder to cover his face with his hands. 

y/n laughs as she sits upright in her chair, it had only happened a few days before, but it felt like forever ago.

“what more is there to say? keiji’s tweet summed it up pretty good,” she answers and keiji groans at the thought.

kageyama tries his best not to look as he listens. his phone is buzzing with texts from a group chat. his friends are trying to encourage him to talk to her after he told them she was here. but he can’t. instead, he’s on google researching condoms and microphones, something he never thought he’d be doing. ever.

then a bell chimes as the door opens and their manager walks in, a small corduroy bag around her shoulders over a white puffer jacket. 

“happy holidays, sorry i’m late,” she slings off her bag as she talks.

everything is pointless here. they’re all pretending to listen to her as if they respect her and she’s pretending like she actually does her job. but maybe that’s all his opinion.

“this last year was pretty good. we lost some people but you’re all new additions and you’ve been handling this great. i help out when i need to, i accommodate when you guys need some days off…” it was slowly transitioning into statements about her, which she realized and quickly cleared her throat, pulling out a folder. “the only things i can say is you all need to do better about getting to work on time and calling out. if you’re all gonna call out one day at least tell me a day ahead or something. it’s not like i can stop you guys from doing it, just don’t make it a habit,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “i think that was all, if you guys can hang out here for 20 minutes more, we’ll all get paid extra. everything’s free today for you guys, so if you want anything just let me know and i’ll make it for you.”

y/n settles back down into her chair with a steaming chai latte, curling back up against keiji, whose sipping on a brewed green tea. yachi is happy with a hot chocolate, and kageyama has a mug of warm milk in his hand.

none of them want caffeine right now, it’s too late. they all just want to go home but they aren’t going to miss out on being paid just for sitting around.

but something bothers her about the fact that kageyama’s been on his phone this whole time. he keeps texting someone, she assumes, and for some reason that sits wrong with her. she wants to know what’s going through his head and who he’s talking to. a part of her wishes he would look at her, or ask how she’s doing.

maybe that’s asking for too much, it sounds comedic just thinking about it. he’s never talked to her more than he needed to. he’s never been one to say “how are you?” but maybe after her havoc on twitter, she thought he’d be more interested.

he's unlike anyone she's ever met, and maybe that's what makes her care so much. she's never cared so much about what anyone thought, or in garnering a simple look from them.

but he won't look at her and she can't predict how he's going to act, and she doesn't know how to handle that except by telling herself that she hates him.

“look at him,” y/n can’t help but whisper to the companion she’s leaning against, still facing towards the boy who’s mindlessly scrolling on his phone as he sips on his drink. “look at the state we’re in and he doesn’t even care. he hasn’t looked at us once.”

keiji raises his brows in surprise at her comment. what did it matter what he cared? but then he pieces it together.

“well, he’s seen me like this once at the beginning of the fall during our first show. but yachi’s right,” he gives her a sly smile as she tilts her head back, looking at him confused, “you really do care what he thinks.”

her face turns red at the thought and she immediately sits up, staring down into the swirling foam of her latte. “i do not,” she mumbles.

"i don't care," she whispers again. but she can't even bring herself to say it confidently.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

kageyama literally knew y/n would be at the celebration because it was a mandatory and he had overheard her talking about in their psych class once to a classmate but he wasn't actually prepared

he immediately opened up his gc when she walked in and said "she's here" and the gc subsequently blew up

my boy was literally texting about yn the entire night but she thought he was just on his phone </3

the gc was trying so hard to get her to talk to him and he had the nerve to say things like "she looks busy" "she looks tired" "she's laying against akaashi right now"

which is when hinata with all the love in the world but not the brightness of someone intelligent said he should spill a drink on them so that she wouldn't be laying on him anymore (literally not said with any malice he's heard from bokuto how cool he is)

yams screamed no in the groupchat and outloud...because tsukki, hianta and him were all in the same room texting the groupchat in silence

other than that hinata was going off with the advice and giving kageyama all the reasons why he could talk to y/n

y/n keeps looking at akaashi because she wants to open her mouth and express how she really feels about kageyama (which would come up as a jumble of undiscernible words) but doesn't know what he'll say so then she looks away

yachi can't work on sunday because she's going to an art auction!! <3 how coincidental

(also my brain for some reason really wanted to write the written part in the present tense for absolutely no reason which i was trying to fight and then got confused so hopefully it still flows ok </4)

taglist: @ncitygreen @lvrlamp @cherrypieyourface @mimi3lover @lees-chaotic-brain @frootloopscos @0moonii @cr4yolaas @eggyrocks @pinkiscool @httpakkeiji @localgaytrainwreck @lunaviee @kitty-m30w @lixie-phoria @aliruuiz @tartfrappe @corvid007 @iluv-ace @yvjitadori @k8nicole (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[holydayaria]

hey…any spare thoughts about katana man…

hai.... here are some headcanons i wrote up a few months ago.. i got a bit lazy finishing up at the end though :/

breaking up with katana man, somewhat yandere headcanons

Like with most things, Katana Man doesn't take it well.

He isn't interested in breaking up, his immediate thought is that you're playing a distasteful joke. When he realizes you're serious, his next thought is that one of your pesky friends. They must be the ones who put such thoughts in your head. He’s very stubborn about it too, because there’s no way you could ever form your own opinion (sarcasm).

There were a few red flags you noticed after beginning to see him. Aside from being a bit stuck up (a lot stuck up) and his tendency to be stubborn, he didn’t seem so bad. The positives outweighed the negatives, but he definitely spiraled a bit when his grandfather died. You can only be so supportive when he’s going on about "getting revenge" and other strange things. Your breaking point was when he let it slip that he's in the yakuza, something he hadn't been entirely honest with you about prior.

Technically, it’s not his fault you didn’t realize he was in the yakuza. Sure, he vaguely alluded to being a debt collector and didn’t correct you when you assumed he worked in finance, but it’s not like he lied. He just chose to omit some information, that’s all.

(The lack of any obvious identifiers and him being so secretive about his line of work made it hard to tell he was an outright criminal, in your defense).

The first time you bring up wanting to end the relationship, he brushes you off. A simple “no” and the conversation is over.

“Let’s talk rationally about this,” he says, then refuses to be rational. Every time you say something, Katana cuts you off and interjects with how you’re wrong. His eye twitches whenever you ask him to stop talking over you. It takes the guy considerable effort to not raise his voice with you.

It’s not anything he’d like to admit, but Katana is pretty lonely. Most of his peers are also people who work under him or people who aren’t interested in getting along with him. Aside from a few family members in the yakuza business, he’s mostly stuck to himself. You leaving him made him realize how tiny his social circle is, only adding to his need to get you back.

He can’t be bothered to go find another person to date. He put too much work into getting with you, he can’t let you go. Not like this, not at all. Luckily for him (and unluckily for you), Katana is nothing if not annoyingly persistent.

And so begins the harassment.

Anywhere you go, he’s showing up. He thinks he’s subtle about it, but he really isn’t. Katana doesn’t see how this could ever be creepy or how you aren’t being convinced to go be by his side again.

You probably shouldn’t take the Yakuza too lightly. It all ranges from expensive gifts left at your doorstep, then inside your apartment, to your phone being called every few minutes. You block the numbers, but another one begins ringing.

Katana Man can't decide if he wants to confront you directly when you keep ignoring his attempts at reaching back out, or if he should keep trying harder until you come crawling back (more like, until you snap and can't take it anymore. he's nearly gotten you fired from your job because the yakuza have been creeping around all over the place and even starting to bother your manager).

This lunatic is nothing if not persistent and will talk about you to other people as if you two are still a couple deeply in love, just going through a rough patch. Have fun getting him off your back.

[xx-alice-in-wonderland-xx]

Abby, Yara and Lev incorrect quilted cuz they are my children and I would die for them (with some other characters) xx

Abby: I really like Eminem.  Yara: I prefer skittles.  Abby: I’m talking about the rapper.  Lev: Why would you eat the wrapper?

Lev: There are three ways to handle a difficult situation. The right way, the wrong way, and the Abby way.  Yara: Isn't that the wrong way?  Lev: Yes, but it's faster.

Lev: It's locked. You got a lock pick?  Yara: Yeah-  Abby: *kicks in the door*

Abby: Okay, can we all stop saying stupid shit for a moment, please?!  Yara: Alright.  Lev: Hey, I-  Abby: SHUT UP!  Lev: I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED MY SENTENCE!!  Yara: It was bound to be stupid.

Lev: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY-  Abby: Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~  Lev: Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH-  Yara, recording: This is so cute.

*Squad is playing Among Us*  Yara: I believe Lev is innocent, I was with them the whole time. Abby, what were you doing?  Abby: Oh, I was just murdering… I mean, nothing!

Lev: Thanks for not telling Yara what happened.  Abby, dumbfounded: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this.

Abby, to Yara: If Lev doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check.  Lev, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!

Lev: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart?  Yara: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am!  Lev: Mean.

Lev: Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and…  Yara: Was diagnosed with mesothelioma.  Lev: Mamma called the doctor and the doctor said…  Abby: You might be entitled to financial compensation if he or a loved one dies.

Abby: WHO ATE MY BREAD?!  Abby: I'M GOING TO FUCKING K-  Lev: I did?  Abby: Kiss you and buy some more, you haven't been eating anything today Lev.  Abby: *walks away*  Lev:  Lev: She’s gone Owen.  Owen, coming out the closet with bread stuffed in his mouth: Thank you!

Lev: I have a plan.  Abby: I have the hospital and Mel on speed dial.

Lev, on the phone: Uh. . Hey, Abby, i uh, I’ve been stabbed.  Yara: WHAT? WHERE ARE YOU?  Lev: Wait- You aren’t Abby. Sorry- I didn’t mean to call you-  Yara: NO, WHERE ARE YOU? IM COMING THERE. IM NOT GOING TO LEAVE MY LITTLE BROTHER ALONE AFTER BEING STABBED.

Yara: I'm very disappointed in you, Lev.  Abby: C'mon, don't get mad at Lev!  Yara: Abby, stop telling Lev it's okay for them to punch you! They need to learn not to punch people!  Abby: But I'm not a person!  Lev: Which is why I punched her!

Abby: *walks into the kitchen, ignoring everyone*  Yara: Hey, Abby, how was your day?  Abby: *picks up an onion and bites into it, staring at Yara* Hell.  Lev, watching this unfold: *whispers* Who hurt you?

Abby: Where’s Lev?  Yara: Around.  Abby: Around?  Abby: You don’t have any idea, do you?  Lev, dropping down from above: Did you know there’s a space above the ceiling?

Abby: Hey, Lev. Why did the chicken cross the road?  Lev: To get to the other side?  Abby: You were supposed to say “I dunno, why?“  Lev: Uh... fine. I don’t know. Why did it cross the road?  Abby: To get to the idiot’s house.  Lev: ...Ok?  Yara: Hey, Lev. Knock knock.  Lev: No.  Yara: You were supposed to say “who’s there?”  Lev: Fine... let’s get this over with. Who’s there?  Yara: The chicken.  Lev: Abby: Yara: Lev:Listen here you little shits-

Yara: Yesterday, I overheard Lev saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Abby replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

Yara: Just think about this! I’m your hottest friend.  Yara: No, that’s Owen… I’m your nicest friend.  Yara: No, thats Lev... I’m your friend!

Abby: I hate to to tell you this, but one of you was adopted.  Yara & Lev: Yara: Was it Lev?

*Lev is laying on the floor with their eyes closed*  Abby: Hey, are they sleeping or dead?  Yara, messing around: Hopefully dead, I hated them.  Abby, joining it: Yeah, me too.  Lev, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.

[darknesseddiem]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩

Ah, the raven has brought me a fresh little mouse. Welcome to the Belladonna Writing Game. Don't be alarmed; to escape the raven's clutches, you only need to follow the instructions. It’s quite simple, really. Choose a number from the list of prompts. Once you've done that, let your imagination drift into the dark corridors of possibility. Seek out the perfect dynamic from list A through H, but don't forget to select a trope to guide you through the gloom. Your final task is to find your savior among the list of characters, for without them, you'll never find your way out of the raven's shadow.

The clock is ticking, the quill is waiting, and the raven is circling. Will you rise to the challenge, or will you become just another echo in Belladonna's labyrinth? The choice is yours.

Prompt list:

“Don’t be stupid.” “Like, temporarily…?” “I mean, permanently would be nice but I’m not going to as much of you.

“Ohh, you wanna’ kiss me so bad.”

"Can you stop-" "SHE JUST DIED-" "-freaking out?" "SHE DIED?? AND YOU WANT ME TO- *she groans and wakes up, from the dead “*OKAY NO. THAT DIDNT. HOW DID SHE??? SHE WAS JUST DEAD.??" ".... If you could just… Shut up please?"

"Don't look back, please, i b-beg you, don't!"

"Do you know who this (an item that you found) belongs to?" and their face go white. "How. did you. find this."

"I shouldn't die, damn, i haven't even had my first kiss yet."

"Are you haunted ?! Sigh. “Do i need to save you?" "If you're not gonna piss your pants, yes please."

"Are you bleeding?" "No, this is beetroot juice coming out of me, wanna try?”

“I think we’re friends now.” “God, don’t say that.”

“H-” “Don’t talk to me.”

“Should i get you something too?” “You can get out of my fa— woah, hehe. sorry.”

"Kiss me." "I have a dagger to your throat." "And?”

“Stop mocking me.” “sToP mOcKiNg mE.”

“I know where you live and I own gasoline, remember that.”

“I thought you meant something different when you suggested a sword fight”

“Two days ago, you had a blade to my throat!” “Shut up and keep kissing me.”

“It’s kinda comforting to know that there’s someone up there looking over me.” “Oh we’re not looking over people. People are boring.”

“Did it hurt when I fell from heaven?” “That’s… That’s not how that line works.”

“Did… Did you just call me ‘angel’? As like a pet name?”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Aren’t you supposed to kill me?” “Don’t tempt me.”

“God, our kids are gonna be fucked up.”

“Why did they send a guardian angel? I just asked for help with this assignment.”

“So when I die, will I become an angel?” “I hope not. You can barely take care of yourself let alone someone else.”

“You are the least scary ghost I’ve ever seen.”

Nice guy who hates only you.

Academic rivals (teachers).

Hate at first sight.

Dungeon Master x player.

Shy Rockstar x Cocky fan.

Dynamic:

A. Roomates

B. Enemies

C. Angel

D. Human

E. Vampire

F. Friends

G. Coworkers

H. God/Goddess

Trope:

I. Fluff

II. Angst

III. Spicy

IV. Smut

V. Horror

VI. Humor

Characters:

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Reader

Prompts by @akwardsilince @whatthehellami @urfriendlywriter @corvase @celestialwrites @deity-prompts

Taglist: @ali-r3n @birdysaturne @bimbobaggins69 @fan-girl-97

[aquarri]

.

[samuraisharkie]

If you’re putting off loud ass firework tonight in the suburbs around other houses, let it be known I hate you. nearly kills my dog every year.

[johndonneswife]

someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

[pepprs]

june 27th give it up for june 27th

[illputdownmyrootswhenimdead]

transphobic gays when the conservatives they allied with to harm trans people move from transphobia to homophobia:

[itsfuckingcanon]

I want to be loved so badly, but someone being in love with me is a terrifying idea.

[mediapen]

.

[tutuandscoot]

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