The funny thing about hiring a housekeeper to save your life is that sometimes it actually worksโwhich is bad news for Haymitch Abernathy and his long-standing commitment to liver failure.
Rot, as it turns out, is much easier to maintain when nobody keeps scrubbing at it.
The funny thing about hiring a housekeeper to save your life is that sometimes it actually worksโwhich is frankly both suspicious and deeply inconvenient for Haymitch, whose retirement plan involves dying sometime soon of liver failure, full-up with a bottle of something undeserved. The terrible thing about hiring a housekeeper to save your life is that it forces you to acknowledge it can still be saved, which is a premise he has been drinking himself out of for the last twenty-something years.ย
But now, both his tributes have returned alive.ย
And that has consequences.ย
As he knew it would. It always didโHaymitch knew that better than mostโbut the particular consequence of both tributes coming home alive was that the entire district had somehow decided that it was his doingโas if he had done anything beyond shoving two traumatized children towards their impending deaths in slightly more efficient fashion than usualโand he should be rewarded for it. And it started so reasonably: hampers of cold beef and cured ham, crates of expensive liquor, the occasional basket full of things he didn't want. Then presumably when they'd run out of things to send, they'd sent a girl insteadโdispatched to the door on mayor's coin with a mop and a mandate, young enough and pretty enough that he could tell immediately what the mayor's coin was paying for. Haymitch had tried, briefly, to get rid of her.ย
It hadn't stuck.ย
The woman was immune to everythingโslammed doors, barked insults, and a handful of bribery attempts he's not proud of. So he'd surrendered the downstairs entirely and barricaded himself upstairs with his white liquor while she worked below, presumably committing acts of violence against the rot and mildew that had been his close companions.ย
That had been five days ago.ย
He hadn't left his post since.ย
He leaves it now only because he's run out of liquorโwhich is, in the long and inglorious history of surrenders, perhaps the least dignified reason yetโonly to regret it immediately.ย
The house is full of light.
In a grotesque act of historical revisionism, the curtains have been washed back to their original colour. Sunlight floods through them and through every open window in thick, invasive streams, illuminating the polished floorboards usually buried under empty bottles, and the kitchen counters have been scrubbed clean of every respectable layer of dirt and mold and grime.ย
And it reeks of lemon polish.
โSmells like a dog shat in the meadow,โ he grumbles.ย
She appears from the kitchen like the house conjured her, all loose curls and yellow frock bright enough to blind a man.ย
โIt smells elegant!โ she protests.
โIt smells like a flower shop threw up in here.โย
โItโs cheerful. I like it.โ
โI don't care,โ he says. โGet rid of it. And burn those mismatched throw pillows while you're at it,โ he adds, squinting at the sofa. โWhere did you even find those?โ
โI bought them.โย
โYou bought that?โย
โWellโI suppose you bought those.โย
โI bought those?โ He nearly pops a vein when she nods. โWith what money?โย
โWith myโโ
โโthe shopkeeper opened a monthly account in your nameโโย
โThe shopkeeper whatโโย
โโand it was for a good cause! His little girl is sick, you see, and the mayor told me you wouldn't mind me purchasing things in your name that we need for the house.โย
โWeโโ he repeats, โโdo not need floral throw pillows. We have never needed floral throw pillows. Return them in the morning.โ
โThey were only worth seven scrips!โ
โThat's seven scrips that could've gone towards liquor. You've set my cirrhosis back by a week for some nasty cushions. I hope youโre proud of yourself.โย
โI am! They're very pretty cushions, and they give the house some character.โย
โThe house had character before you came.โย
โNo. That was mildew.โย
โIt was almost my only companion. Thatโs what it was. And in the twenty-four years I've been here, it never tried to spend my money on throw pillows.โ Haymitch opens his mouth to continue, thinks better of it, and closes it again with gritted teeth and a vein threatening to burst somewhere behind his eyes.
He slams his empty bottle down on the countertop, collects three more from the cupboard where they're lined up like condiments, and makes his way upstairs.ย
The door slams shut behind him.ย
He has maybe three hours of peace. He spends them the way he spends most hoursโhorizontal, working through his second bottle and then his third, while the light goes amber through the curtains, and the victorโs village does what it always does, which is nothing. He is comfortable. He has almost managed to forget there's anyone else in his house.ย
And then the screeching starts.ย
Haymitch freezes.ย
The noise comes again.ย
Wood violently scraping against wood.
Followed by a heavy thump.ย
Followed by humming.ย
God help him, there's someone humming.ย
In his house.ย
He stares at the ceiling.ย
The ceiling stares back.ย
Another screech.ย
Something large and heavy being dragged across the floorโdirectly outside his bedroom.ย
He waits for it to stop. It doesn't. He pulls the pillow over his head.ย
This helps for approximately four minutes.ย
He tries reasoning with himselfโsheโll be done soon; she has to be done soon; no reasonable person makes this much noise past eveningโbut it doesn't help because she's not a reasonable person. He tries sleeping. He cannot sleep. He counts all the bottles on his nightstand. He stares at the water stain on the ceiling.ย
The humming continues.ย
He almost makes it.ย
Thenโthe sound of a bucket toppling over.ย
Another screech.ย
Another.ย
Finally:ย
โFor the love ofโโย
He shoves himself upright, head swimming with movement, and storms out.ย
He immediately wishes he hadn't.ย
The hallway has been destroyed. Every piece of furniture has been displacedโa side table pushed against the wall at an angle, a dining chair abandoned halfway down the corridor, an old blanket chest moved so far from its original location he can see the darker rectangle of the floorboard where it used to stand undisturbed for years. The windows at either end stand open to the evening air. The floorboards are dark and wet, and the chemical smell of floor polish is sharp on his tongue. Several piles of old bedsheets and blankets sit in a heap on the top of the staircase, grey with disuse, and in the middle of it allโa bucket, a mop, two scrub brushes lined up with neatness amidst the surrounding chaos. The corridor stretches ahead of him, slick and strange and barely his. And she is at the far end of it, her back turned, still working.ย
Humming under her breath.ย
โWhat the fuck is wrong with you?โ he asks.ย
She looks up at him.ย
โIโm cleaning.โย
โYouโre cleaning,โ he says. โRight nowโright this moment.โย
Her brow furrows.ย
โYes.โย
โAt six in the evening.โย
โYes.โย
โWellโdonโt.โย
She stares at him for a second.ย
โDid I disturb you?โย
โTake a wild guess.โย
โOh,โ she says. โI've been trying to be quiet.โย
โTry harder,โ he says. โOr better yetโdonโt clean here right now. Don't clean here at all. I'm perfectly fine with that.โย ย
โI'm not. The mayor pays me to clean here.โย
โIโll pay you not to.โ
โThat would defeat the whole purpose; besides not being the right thing to do.โย ย
Haymitch grits his teeth.ย
โListen, kid,โ he says. โI don't care about the floors. I don't care about the furniture. I don't care if the entire second floor collapses into the first. What I care about is that my head feels like somebody's mining coal behind my eyes, and you've spent the last twenty minutes dragging half the house up and down the hallway. So either find something else to do or come back later. Tonight, tomorrow, neverโpick whatever. I'm not fussy.โย
โBut you might be asleep later.โย
โThat's the idea.โย
โIt'll wake you up.โย
โI'll live.โย
โBut you'll be disturbed even more than you are now, and besides I've already started.โ She wrings out her mop. โIโll be done in an hour, and in fact if you went outside for a little while, I could do your bedroom too and get everything finished at once.โย
โAbsolutely not.โย
โBut you know I've got to do it sooner or later, and if you let me do it now, I'll leave the upstairs alone for a whole week after.โย
Haymitch pinches the bridge of his nose.ย
โAn hour,โ he warns.ย
She rearranges her expression into something sincere with suspicious speed. โI swear.โย
He turns sharply, intent on putting as much distance between himself and this conversation as possible, and immediately catches the bucket with his boot.ย
And then it topples over, sending a wave of dirty soapwater rushing across the floorboards and down the freshly cleaned staircase.ย
The bucket rattles after it loud enough to wake the dead.ย
โTwo hours,โ the girl amends quickly.ย
Haymitch stares at her.
And then he stares at his soaked boots.ย
And then he walks away.ย
โฆ
There are few indignities greater than being kicked out of your own house.
He had woken at noon to the smell of something aggressive and chemical riding through the floorboards. He had stumbled downstairs, squinting against the light, to find his house turned into a warsite. The kitchen had been scrubbed and every surface sprayed with something that burned his eyes from twenty paces away; and the rest of the house was next, she had informed cheerfully. The windows stood open but it made no difference. The smell had settled into the walls, the curtains, the very air itselfโand he'd been too drunk and too hung-over all at once to argue. The result was that his house was now unfit for human occupation.ย
And he was human enough, regrettably, for the distinction to matter.ย ย
So the backyard it had been.
He had dropped into the chair beside the porch some time ago and stayed there, because the alternative was standing, and standing had become an act of ambition.ย
He sits there now, the sun beating on his neck. It's all wrongโtoo bright, and too directโand the air is thick and still and smells of cut grass and something else green and wet and rotting in the heat. His skull is doing something unpleasant behind his eyes. His knees ache. His stomach has lodged several formal complaints about all the biscuits he'd eaten in the last hour and the liquor he'd used to wash them down. And somewhere on the back of his neck, several winged things have decided he's lunch.ย ย
He slaps at them.ย
They come back.ย
He swats the mosquitoes away from the plate of biscuits sitting on the chair beside him. Peeta had dropped them by this morning while he was still asleep. The girl had reheated and placed them beside him as consolation for being kicked out of his house.ย
He takes another swig and the bottle feels easier to lift than his head.ย
The light shifts through the overgrown grass and catches the empty bottles lying in the weeds beside his chair. The grass brushes against his boots. The garden sprawls beyond the porch, dark and airless and overgrown. The flowerbeds have sunk into themselves, the stone path is almost gone now. Thorned vines have climbed the fence, and twisted hard around the slats. The roses have grown wild, their blooms small and ragged, their stems tangled in the weeds around them. Tall grass leans against the porch steps. Dandelions push up through every crack they can find. The whole thing smells sour in the heatโsomething green and old and wet slowly baking in the afternoon sun.ย
He should go inside.ย
But the house is uninhabitable and standing is an effort.ย
He remains in his seat.ย
Then the weeds swear.ย
Or the girl does, from somewhere inside them.ย
Haymitch opens one eye.ย
His hand reaches for another biscuit.ย
โThe boy's trying to kill me,โ he says.ย
She laughs.ย
โWith biscuits?โย
โWith diabetes.โย
โThat does sound serious.โย
โIt is,โ he says. โI haven't spent twenty-four years of my life destroying my liver just to let diabetes take me away.โย
โYou poor thing.โ The sound of leaves rustling follows. โHe's very kind to drop these biscuits by, all fresh and warm.โย
โYes, well," he says. "It's Peeta."ย
As if that explains everything.ย
(It does.)
โPapa used to love those fancy cakes he made. Brought one home every payday, like clockwork.โ She appears in his periphery, cheeks flushed, and stops before the glass window to inspect her reflection with seriousness. โCanโt eat them anymore though,โ she says, โwhich is just as well, because we can't afford it either.โย
He hums.ย
She plops down on the chair beside him. โHe was so shocked and confused when I answered the door thoughโthe poor thing. You're so tight with himโand the girl too. Iโd figured you'd have told them by now.โย
Tight.
He's not sure that's the word he'd use. He's not sure what word he'd use. They drop by sometimesโthe boy more than the girlโto check whether he's alive. And when he's too drunk to argue, he lets them in. The whole thing is ridiculous and unnecessary. A man falls asleep face-down in his vomit one time and suddenly everyone thinks he needs a keeper.ย
But Haymitch isn't a strong enough man to turn away whatever the boy brings him.ย
And so the boy keeps coming back.ย
โThey haven't visited since,โ he says.ย
Which is a rare stroke of luck. Heโs not quite ready to publicize his defeat just yet.ย
โYou should invite him here more often. He's from such a big family. I imagine it must get lonely living in such a big house.โ The girl reaches for a biscuit. โI can cook dinner and whatnot. If we're very lucky, heโll bring some of those tarts he makes. We could invite the girl too, I suppose.โย
โI suppose.โ His lip twitches. โTry not to injure yourself with enthusiasm.โย
โIt's not that I'm unwilling! I just don't know her. She used to visit our shop once a year for Primโs birthday. She was a bit scary.โ She flashes a sheepish smile. โBut I'm sure she's a very nice person to know.โย
Haymitch takes a long swig from his bottle.
โRight,โ he says.ย
โThe garden is going to take loads of time, by the way,โ says she. โThe soil's gone wrong, the roses have grown wild, and there's weeds growing all over the stone path. I don't even know where to start.โย
โI do. Don't.โย
She ignores him.ย
โThe flowerbeds will have to be cleared up first. Then I'll have to figure out what all's even worth saving at this point. The grass needs cutting. The shrubs need trimming. The vines have to come off the fence before they bring the whole thing down.โย
โI don't understand why bother at all.โย
โBecause I want to do a good job. The mayor's wife was so kind as to find me this job; I don't want to disappoint her. Besides, it'll look pretty. A house ought to look pretty if it can! It'd just be such a waste of a good gardening space otherwise.โย
He snorts.ย
โI don't plan on sitting here enough times to notice,โ he says, taking another swig. โAnd besides, pretty doesn't do much.โย
โYes, it does.โย
โNo, it doesn't.โย
โIt makes people happy. And besides, things don't have to be useful to be worth keeping.โย
โUseful is generally a safer bet.โย
โWell, I disagree.โย
โShocking.โย
They exchange a glance.ย
โYou'll like the garden when I'm done with it,โ she promises.ย
He remains quiet.ย
She dusts the crumbs off her clothes before returning to work.ย
Haymitch watches from his seat.ย
She starts with the flowerbeds closest to the porch. Haymitch watches her crouch down and begin pulling weeds by hand and dropping them in a growing pile beside her.ย
It's a complicated process.ย
Every so often she has to brace one foot against the edge of the flowerbed and tug with both hands to get a stubborn root out of the ground. More than once, she loses the fight and nearly falls backwards into the dirt.ย
By the time she moves on to the next patch, there's soil under her fingernails, and dirt smeared across the sleeve of her dress.
A root catches her next.
She braces both feet against the flowerbed and pulls.ย
Nothing.ย
She tries again.ย
Still nothing.ย
Haymitch takes another sip from his drink.ย
The root remains unmoved.ย
โYou're getting your ass kicked by a plant.โย
โI'm not.โย
โYou are.โย
The root wins a third round.ย
Haymitch nods.ย
โHumiliating,โ he says.ย
โIt would come out if the ground wasn't so hard.โย
โThe ground seems fine.โย
โThe ground hates me.โย
โThe ground has excellent taste.โย
She shoots him a look, still pulling with all her strength.ย
The root gives way without warning.ย
She stumbles backwards and lands squarely in the dirt.ย
Haymitch laughs into his bottle.ย
โYou're enjoying this far too much.โย
โAnd why shouldn't I? It's the first useful thing this garden has produced in years.โย
The bottle empties in his hand and he sighs.ย
Watching her lose so spectacularly to something is almost adequate compensation for being evicted from his own house.
But the mosquitoes have returned to avenge their dead kin and his spine hurts from sitting up straight.ย
โHow much longer?โ he asks.ย
โFor what?โย
โThis.โย
She looks around. โThe outdoors?โย
โThe outdoors.โย
โOh, you mean when will it be safe to go inside? That you can go anytime you like! The smell should've gone away soon after the first hour.โย
He stares at her, dumbfounded.
โWhy didn't you say anything?โย
โWell, you'd already come outside, and you looked so comfortable. And besides, a little sunlight is supposed to be good for your health. I didn't want to say anything.โ
โYouโโย
He gets up from his chair.ย
She looks back at him quietly.ย
โYou're a menace,โ he says and goes away, shutting himself inside his bedroom.
He stays there for the rest of the day.ย
It's late evening when she knocks on his bedroom door.
Haymitch ignores it.ย
He lies back in his bed and stares at the ceiling and waits for it to go awayโwhich it does. Five minutes pass.ย
And then something that isn't quite curiosity but lives in that neighborhood gets the better of him and he opens the door. There's a tray on the little stand outsideโa bowl of soup, still steaming, with a heel of bread balanced on the rim. He looks down the hall, and then at the soup.ย
Nobody.ย
He brings it inside.ย
The soup is watery and oversalted, and the bread is slightly stale, and the whole thing is barely warm by the time he gets to the bottom of the bowlโwhich he does faster than he means to. He feels like a thief sneaking inside his own home as he listens for footsteps before opening the door, setting the empty bowl on the tray, and bolting the door shut again very quickly.ย
It's replaced by a fresh tray the next morningโundercooked buns and a questionable attempt at coffee.ย
He finishes that too.
No one ever mentions it.ย
a/n: i hope you guys loved reading this as much as I loved it! please like, comment, reblog, followโall of that! it'd mean the world to me.
and if you'd like to be notified for future parts, drop a comment below and I will @ you everytime I post. thank you for reading!
Imagine Yuu Reader, who played smart from the very beginning and actually started documenting everything happening at NRC.
Not because she was some kind of mastermind. Not because she wanted revenge.
But because, after waking up in a coffin, being accused of trespassing, nearly getting blasted by magic multiple times, and then being told that her only housing option was a collapsing, haunted dormitory, she realized something very quickly:
No one here is going to look out for me except me.
And it's not like she was planning anything at first.
It started because she was tired.
Tired of people acting like the situation she was in was normal. Tired of hearing,ย "Well, that's just how things are."ย Tired of Crowley smiling at her like he's doing her a favor while she's sleeping in a dorm that's one strong gust of wind away from collapsing.
So when Cater helps her get a proper phone and set up a Magicam account, Yuu Reader starts recording things.
At first, it's harmless.
Videos of Grim trying to eat things that definitely aren't food. Ace getting detention. Deuce running after Ace because Ace got detention. The occasional dorm leader having a public breakdown.
Normal NRC activities.
But then she starts making private folders.
Folders nobody knows about.
Folders labeled:
Ramshackle Conditions.
Crowley.
Overblots.
Evidence.
Yuu Reader, whose phone quickly builds up with cold, hard proof.
Yuu Reader, who in her first week made a video tour of Ramshackle Dorm, showing off the broken windows, holes in the floor, dust thick enough to write your name in, and ghosts arguing in the background.
Yuu Reader, who within her second week records the food she's limited to, comparing the portions and quality to those of the other dorms.
Yuu Reader, who from that point onward starts keeping receipts.
Videos of Crowley promising he'll find a way home for her.
Voice recordings of Crowley promising he'll help.
Screenshots of messages from Crowley promising things will improve.
Promises.
Promises.
Months of promises.
Then the first Overblot happened.
Yuu Reader nearly died.
Several students nearly died.
The school suffered massive damage.
And afterward, everyone just...
Moved on.
There were consequences, yes. People talked about it. People worried.
But not enough.
Not nearly enough.
Nobody seemed concerned by how close everything had come to ending in disaster.
Nobody seemed concerned that a magicless teenager had somehow gotten dragged into the middle of it.
Yuu Reader begins adding it all to her growing video library, recording the Overblots one after another.
Then, one day, she posts the videos on Magicam.
To her surprise, they quickly blow up.
People are horrified to discover what has been happening behind the closed gates of NRC.
Yuu Reader locks her door and quickly starts a livestream, ignoring the flood of messages pouring in from her friends.
She starts crying in front of the thousands of people watching her, speaking about how Crowley kidnapped her.
The viewers watch as she shows off the dorm, making sure to highlight the mold, the crumbling walls, and the general state of neglect.
As she reads through the chat, she starts seeing messages from her friends telling her they want to talk.
Then Yuu Reader sees the comment she'd been waiting for.
The RSA Headmage offering to help her.
And, as a bonus, dozens of people saying they've already reported Crowley to the authorities.
Yuu Reader tries to hide her smile as she hears Crowley banging on the door, begging her to open up.
After all, Crowley ruined her life.
So would it really be fair for her to pay him back?
So I bet yall have seen the leaks by now, and damn i love the new sillies so far, especially rielle he looks exactly how I envisioned him. He's so full of whimsy I cant
The yan potential with the RSA students are amazing too, with love at first sight, hopeless devotion to the ones they love and the whole "I need to save you from the villains" mindset, what's not to love ??
Not fully following canon events and a lil ooc becasue they came out a day after the release of the chatacters
As the preparations have to be made for the contest against RSA, of course Crowley forces you along with the students to prepare. At least it's not as akward anymore, as you now know them.
While you're just happy to hang out with your friends, Azul and Jamil have the time of their lives. Finally, FINALLY, some alone time with you (well, almost alone, but this is better than sharing with the rest of the pricks, as they can tolerate eachother if it means no one else joins).
They hope this moment would never end, but, seems like the universe has some other plans for them. They hear a shout, disrupting their lovely time with you. Rage quickly turns into pure horror as they realise who's interrupting them...
To their utter horror, seems to be their awful rivals from RSA, just what they needed. It could've been anyone that disturbed them, he'll they would've taken anyone else at this point, but it had to be these two, amazing.
Rielle was the one that spotted the three of you, well, he spotted Azul to be exact. He wanted to say hi to his childhood friend, as they hadn't seen eachother in a long while !! It would be fun to talk once again !! Meanwhile Minajael is just tagging along, just going with the flow
Rielle rather abruptly stops in his tracks as soon as he spots you, someone he has nevee seen before. He feels the world slow down around him, his heart racing and his face flushing. Is this what his textbooks was talking about when they meant love ?? If so, he loves this feeling !! He can't let go ! This has to be fate or something, he has to ask you-
Minajael feels at ease, despite still being right next to Rielle (probably the biggest loudmouth he knows). He feels a sense of calm was over him as he sees you. Is this, no, it can't be. Love always sounded like such shackles, like it would ruin his freedom, but this, he feels so free. He will keep a lower profile until he figures out what the hell is going on.
You quickly get overwhelmed as you NRC friends are pushed away by the new RSA stufents, one frantically asking you questions while the other seems to stare into your soul. It's all very overwhelming, but atleast the preparations are soon done so this will be over soon.
Just a few moments ago they had the absolute time of their lives, now these soiled BRATS are comming in, taking their very much precious time. It seems if the RSA students are gonna play dirty, so will they.
TLDR sore losers get prissy when RSA princes show up to take the spotlight, rhis was fun to draw, hope you like it. Haven't been writing in a whole so I suck at this but, enjoy.
Reblogs with text and comments are very much appretiated to keep me going and creating <3
Rereading The Hunger Games after reading Sunrise on the Reaping is so funny.
Katniss could probably waltz into the Hob like Belle in the opening scene of Beauty and the Beast but instead she's so focused on keeping her head down and her nose to the gridstone that she is fully oblivious to the love and support of her own community!
do you ever think if anyone in the TWST cast (staff included; mob students included) looks at the Prefect living in Ramshackle and quietly lose their mind like "holy shit, that's a magicless orphan living in an abandoned building"
i mean, i know that NRC is the school for individualistic assholes who'd sooner choke than admit they care about anybody.
i know that the cast members do grow to care about Prefect anyway (if you look at vignettes at least)
but like. i think it would be neat if more people not only noticed Prefect's circumstances, but were eaten by the knowledge. maybe not often or intensely, but still
Students A and B trudge through the snow on their way to the school building from the mirror hall; one of them glances at that corner of the campus past the greenhouse, and their complaining cuts off because imagine getting to the school from there.
Showers in one of the dorms broke for whatever reason, and suddenly Student C is wondering about the hot water situation over at Ramshackle, and whether it has any heating at all.
Student D is lying sleepless in the infirmary after yet another overblot incident. Their mind wanders to the Prefect and whether they've been badly hurt during; are they going to be okay? are they going to keep surviving this?
Student E catches a sight of Prefect in the cafeteria and wonders if they get enough to eat.
Student F randomly remembering that Prefect doesn't have any family to call.
i know Prefect has their own friend group - if nothing else, Adeuce are as thick as thieves with them - but like, i always wonder about random students perceiving them and thinking about them in passing
Do you ever wonder if/when Yuu leaves to go back home with them, there will be little to no pictures/physical memory of them? How in every photo, every event, birthday, holiday, they were never captured, simply a silent observer always there but never included the way the others are.
Rummaging through ramshackle, through mountains of photos and god knows what else only to find everyone else photographed but Yuu. The realization that you donโt have any photo proof that they existed. Someone so important to you just gone.
This only occurred after remembering the ghost cameraโs existence and how itโs meant to capture โspecialโ moments. And how it implies that Yuu isnโt special enough to be photographed, that is, until far too late.
Genuinely there needs to be more fanfic where Yuu is lowk a heartthrob, a campus crush if you will. Bc if some dude (non binary) crashed the entrance ceremony with a crazy fire cat, handled campus problems (Riddle's crazy ass pre overblot, the "accidents" before the Spell drive tournament, getting me out of a bad contract with Azul,etc ) and involved with a lot more I'd def be pining for them
Genuinely there needs to be more fanfic where Yuu is lowk a heartthrob, a campus crush if you will. Bc if some dude (non binary) crashed the entrance ceremony with a crazy fire cat, handled campus problems (Riddle's crazy ass pre overblot, the "accidents" before the Spell drive tournament, getting me out of a bad contract with Azul,etc ) and involved with a lot more I'd def be pining for them
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
kaledo-art
tangentwithtanner
romaincrisis
