WHAT’S UP TUMBLR PEOPLE… IT’S ME AGAIN 🥹🥹 sorry im just addicted to making tweens/animations of purple candle… spare me..
uhh what else do i say in this part…. OH YEAH!! Technically a gift for @therealaaronburr1836!! And also @thesillygoobermoment and the billybob mod! Awesome, cool!
cough.. billyburr for the soul ❤️
Oh yeah btw….
Pinks = Love , Purples = Fear , Blues = Sadness/Guilt , Grays = Drained/exhaustion
I crashed out yesterday and wrote a billyburr crack fic. Do with this what you will @therealaaronburr1836
premise is instead of burr killing the police officer he’s arrested and has to endure being driven to the station next to billybob. Then Things happen
I’m so sorry burr mod
Burrs heart pounded out of his chest as he sped down the highway, cars passing and probably being disrupted by his reckless driving. But the only car he could focus on was the police vehicle tailing him in the rear view mirror, rapidly gaining on him. He really, *really* should’ve known better than to trust anons. Yet here he is now, probably already having committed many major traffic violations because he was drugged. His eyes darted around wildly, watching the police car behind him catch up. He doesn’t believe in God, but all he can do right now is pray that this goes well.
The officer pulls him over, obviously shocked that it’s the fucking *President* driving like this. *What kind of President is he?* His words muffle into an indistinguishable blur, but Burr correctly assumes that he’s asking for his ID and registration. He fumbles through his things while trying to explain that he just wants to go home, he must’ve said something bad because the officer makes a face and asks “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“Uh… No…?” He slurs it more like a question than an answer. “Please… enlighten me.” Yeah, there’s no way the officer is believing his bullshit. He hears him explain what exactly he did but in fragmented words *— three collisions— emergency room— property damage—* and his stomach churns the more he realizes how much damage he’s already done. He resolves not to think about it, it’s not like he drugged himself, so really it’s not *technically* his fault all this happened.
When he finally snaps back to reality, the officer already took him out of the vehicle and handcuffed him. He struggled a bit against the restraints because he’s the President— *This can’t be happening—* But the cop doesn’t care. Of course he doesn’t. Burr has always preached the treatment of himself and other political figures as people not above the law.
He’s shoved into the back of the cop car, taking in his surroundings. Or at least trying to given his current state. It’s as sterile as you’d expect, but the seating is pretty comfortable. As his eyes dart around the room hazily, he spots a familiar figure.
*Fuck.*
Billybob. There he is. Staring at him like he’s not real, and frankly he wishes he wasn’t. He doesn’t exactly feel real right now. Out of every single person that could’ve been with him on this trip, Billybob is the worst possible choice. When he focuses in on his eyes, he notices they’re also bloodshot like his. *Great. We’re both high and being driven off to jail.* Maybe he died when he shot himself at the White House, and this is his personal hell. It wouldn’t be surprising to him.
Burr takes his time to assess the man despite the fact he feels like he’s going to keel over. He’s never seen Billybob in person till now, though he had some things to work off of based on the ship art people keep sending him. He looks… surprisingly mature for someone who has the humor of a 5 year old. *(Burr recalls him having much more accessories and whimsical details. This plainer outfit does not suit his personality. In fact, he seems more toned down in general. He can’t help but wonder what happened.)* Well, would look mature if it weren’t for how conked out he is.
An awkward silence looms over the vehicle as the officer starts driving. Burr waits for something to happen, for officer to tell them something, for Billybob to do something stupid, for someone to *save* him— *Anything.*
Nothing fills the void where he feels that there should be something. Something to distract him from the gnawing realization that he’s going to lose everything. Everything he’s spent the last however many days, months, *years* working for. He’s going to lose everything, all because for some stupid reason, he finally decided to trust someone again. How naive of him, to think that this wasn’t the only possible outcome. He wants to bash his head against the wall, scream at the top of his lungs, but his body— *his trembling high* body— can only sit still.
Burr focuses on staring at a random point on the interior of this vehicle, not that he can pay much attention to any details. The car starts.
He keeps staring. Shaking. Trying to clear his head. It doesn’t help. He is acutely aware of the seat behind his back, like it’s scratching at his skin even though it’s a completely smooth surface.
*He doesn’t know how long they’ve been driving.*
But at a certain point, Billybob nudges him. He flinches violently, his oversensitive body burning from the touch. The man is looking at him with an expression on his face he can’t quite recognize. “You uh… you need an emotional support cat? *catemoji*” Burr blinks at him, unable to tell if he started hallucinating from the drugs.
“Did you fuckin’… say an emoji out loud??”
Billybob grins like this is a part of his brand. It probably is. “Yes. *thumbsupemoji* *thumbsupemoji* *thumbsupemoji* *grinningemoji* *grinningem—*”
“Shut the fuck up.” He snaps. Billybob quickly deflates, his shoulders dropping down pathetically. He seems to have taken the hint thankfully, because his… well, Billybob-ness is only adding to his throbbing headache.
The two of them stare straight ahead as the car drives them closer to certain doom. Burr tries hard not to think, which the drugs help with. *(The only good thing that weed brownie will ever do for him.)* Billybob keeps impatiently tapping his foot, which is starting to sound like gunshots in the quiet of the car. Burr eventually turns to Billybob, irritated and too high to resist the urge to talk. “How’d you even sneak a cat in a police car…?” He mumbles, watching his face carefully.
Billybob stared at him blankly. “Oh no I don’t have a cat, I just was wondering.”
Burr stiffly nodded and turned his head back forward, burying his head in his hands. His palms dug into his eyes until starts burst underneath his eyelids. His breathing had become shaky again, from the adrenaline of the drugs. Or the adrenaline of being arrested. Whichever. He leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling of the vehicle. *This is it*, he supposes. There’s no way he’s getting out of this without serious damage to his career, and possibly his impeachment. How embarrassing, to have your entire political career toppled by a singular weed brownie.
He sighs. Fuck it, he’s about to lose everything anyway. Not much left to lose. Unfortunately, over the past several months *(years?)* of being dropped into traumatic situations had made him very good at making reckless decisions. *(That and still being slightly high.)* If his self from 4 years ago saw him, he’d probably stare at him and then ask what went wrong. He’d answer that everything went wrong, because everything did.
“Fuck it. Billybob are you gonna kiss me or what. He muttered. There goes the last of his dignity. But surprisingly, Billybob as he is isn’t the worst person to make out with last before having his life ruined. Or at least, hopefully he isn’t.
Billybob stares at him, his jaw dropping to the floor. They maintain intense eye contact, for a few seconds, before his face turns into a clearly forced smile. “Ahahahah— Mr. Burrtttt sirrrr… You’re so funny, yknow? For a second I actually thought you were deadass—“
The most-likely-soon-to-be-impeached-Presidents eye twitches. *This oblivious in denial motherfucker.*
Burr angrily kisses him. Well, more like he tackles him and pins him to the side of the moving vehicle. This might be the most passionate makeout session he’s had in years, which kind of makes him want to die. Again. The man freezes up for about 2 seconds before leaning in to reciprocate, and— Is. *Is Billybob crying.*
Yes. This grown man (*Late 30s or early 40s by the looks of it? Oh god there is no way this guy is genuinely 40 years old—*) was currently crying over being kissed. Burr pulls back for a moment, partially to give himself some air and partially to make sure the drugs aren’t making him hallucinate this. But no, the weed has worn off enough to the point where he can clearly tell Billybob is crying. *(Has this man never kissed anyone before?*)
Burr absentmindedly wipes away a tear from the man’s cheek, only to immediately freeze in horror at how tender he is being right now. The pathetic man in front of him is making him weirdly affectionate and it’s pissing him off. Billybob tries to go in for the kiss again, but the officer finally clears his throat. He’s clearly had enough of their bullshit. “Now is not the time, knock it off. Sit apart.” Burr feels his head slowly turn to the front of the car, even though he can’t actually see the officer.
“Officer I am about to lose my entire fucking political career, if you ruin this shit for me you’re going to become another conviction in my inevitable murder trial.”
The officer smartly decides to not push him any further.
Billybob, interpreting the disturbing threat as a go signal, immediately gets back to passionately making out with him. He’s… unnerving good at it, the initial frenzied nature of his sudden kiss had somehow smoothed out into something deeper but slower. Billybob had settled a hand on his waist to pull him closer, Burrs hands wrapped around his neck.
Billybob was clearly experienced with kissing people, so the only reason Burr can think of that he was crying was that he was just that desperate for *Burr specifically* to kiss him. The thought unnerves him for reasons he can’t explain, the thought of someone wanting *him.* *After everything.*
Burr thinks.
So maybe soon Burr is going to lose everything he’s ever worked for.
But maybe this is everything he’s ever needed.
… Burr and Billybob simultaneously pass out on top of eachother from sleep deprivation because neither have slept in at least a week. The cop sighs and hauls them into the police station. This is going to be an odd day for the country.
I DO NOT BACKWAS😳😊🍵 something something 🤑 If you decide start something, I will help you with no question☺️ I would do anything for you☺️😁
you matter to me
— 🎉🎩
Sure…
All I am trying to do, is fix myself… And for that, I need you there. There is a special place that you will be— It explains it in the book more, you will see on Friday when it takes place.
For now, we need to go there. Stay there for a few days to prepare.
I’m back from the shops now, I’m gonna make a special cake for you and your friend who’s been staying with us. What would you like on it? 😊
I think you should let me come with you in your next secret mission because .. uhm .. I’m very responsible . Yep, definitely. And I’ve only ever been concussed like once, twice, three times.
-🥦
Ah, wonderful! Chocolate icing is my favorite. I hope Billybob likes that, too.
..I do not know if that is the best idea. I do not want you to get hurt… Well— I guess if you stick by me.. You won’t get hurt…
