British insults used by a Mr. Arthur Kirkland:
Chav- white trash, low class
Slag- whore, the worst kind
Arsehole- meaner version of asshole
Twatwaffle- homosexual (ironic, huh?)
Branleur- French for wanker
Extra notes at the end.
The three of them were inseparable. Gossipy. Obnoxious. Playboys. Who knew what kind of mischief they could come up with? The only reason why they never got put in jail was that of their little brothers.
Francis was the gossip. He knew everything about everyone. His usual smile was laced with a small smirk when he got some juicy news about someone. He knew what everyone's deepest, darkest secrets were, and would use them against anyone he felt like at the drop of a hat.
Gilbert was obnoxious. He was constantly laughing, constantly calling everyone 'plebeians' and saying they were 'below him.' He had no clue what 'empathy' was. Why would he need to? He's better than everyone.
Antonio was just a playboy. He went through women like a person that's allergic to dogs who works at the pound goes through Epipens. Whoever he could get his hands on, he bedded. No one was safe unless they had enough willpower to be.
All three, seemingly loveless. They thought they could stay away from actually loving someone. They were wrong. Here are their stories.
Francis
Spring-heeled and reinvigorated from the two months of summer break before senior year, Francis was glad to be back at school. His hair was full of secrets ready to be spilled and blackmail to be used. Boy, he loved being queen bee and the one and only drama queen extraordinaire.
He had heard about a new student coming all the way from England. He was excited to see what he could find out about him. He stood beside the rest of his posse and looked at the crowded halls.
"Ah, it is great to be back again, oui?"
"Wee, it is, Francy pants." Gilbert looked at his French friend and smirked. Francis rolled his eyes at his friends' butchering of the French language.
"Don't even act like that, Francis. Just because your great-grandfather was French doesn't mean you are." Antonio pointed out, rather observantly.
"I have the noble French blood flowing through my veins! I am just as French as Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette!"
"Do NOT compare yourself to him! He has done wonderful things, such as... writing back to France to get guns and sh-"
"NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR HAMILTON OBSESSION, TONI." Gilbert rudely stated. Gilbert was wrong. Author cares.
"Stop being so rude, asswipe." Alfred Jones, a friend of Antonio's, butted in.
"Shove off, four-eyes." Gilbert retorted. "Just because he's on the football team with you doesn't mean you have to follow him everywhere."
"I don't follow him everywhere. I just ran into him because our lockers are right next to each others' and we have first period together." Alfred flipped Gilbert off and went to class.
"Whatever. Prick."
"Gilbert, you're just angry because he wouldn't let you be around his brother," Antonio stated, again, very observantly.
"His brother is a real cutie. Shame that he had to move back to Canada last year." Gilbert shrugged.
"Oh, is that the new kid?" Francis pointed to a figure with a green sweater vest on. He wore brown slacks, white dress shoes, and a black tie as well. "He..." He snorted. "Wow. He needs to get a fashion sense."
"Holy shit! Do you SEE those eyebrows?!" Gilbert began to cackle.
"Mio dio... he's so pale... like a vampire!" Antonio shook his head. "Even I wouldn't screw that."
The kid turned towards them. "My god, couldn't you at least try to keep it down? I can hear everything you're saying."
"Oh, pardon me, Mr. Eyebrows. Where are my manners? My name is Francis Bonnefoy. Yours is..?"
"None of your business, now. No need for the formalities and manners, chav." Francis looked at him confusedly for a second before shrugging it off. "Who are these two idiots beside you?"
"I'm Antonio Carriedo."
"People know him as a playboy." Francis threw in.
"Slag." Arthur dubbed him. He would never call Antonio by his first name ever again.
"And I am the AWESOME GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT!"
"Gormless arsehole, more like." Arthur scoffed. "Don't talk about me like that when I'm around, alright?"
"Alright, Mr. No-Name-Kid. We'll see you around." Arthur walked away.
"He's insufferable, isn't he?" Francis asked his friends. Gilbert and Antonio nodded. "And those eyebrows... As you said Gilbert... awful."
As time went by... Francis found himself growing attached to the snarky, witty person Arthur was. He had three classes with him: French III, AP Comp, and Calculus. In all three classes, Arthur proved himself to be very intelligent. He just wasn't good with people, which got him into a lot of trouble, as guys and girls alike wanted to talk to him to hear his accent.
When it neared fall break, everyone began to talk about where they were going for their vacation.
"I'm going back to Spain to visit my siblings." Antonio put in. He looked at the other two people at his lunch table. "I won't be able to talk on the phone until around 8:00 at night there."
Francis just rolled his eyes. "That's about three in the afternoon here."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot." He smiled sheepishly. "Where are you going, Gilbert?"
"I'm staying here with my family. My brother and his wife are coming in from Austria, so... I'll probably be out of the house most of the time so I don't hear 'Oh, Gilbert, why don't you have a girlfriend yet?' and our dad doesn't yell at me for setting Roderich's underwear on fire again."
"Well, I'm not going anywhere, either, so you can come over to my house," Francis said. "Hey, eyebrows! Are you going anywhere over fall break?"
"No, frog face. My family is coming here to see me." Arthur walked by and dumped his tray. He looked at the table of three. "And if I see any of you outside of school, I won't hesitate to hex you."
Francis snorted a little. "'Hex?' Like... some kind of wizard? You do know that magic doesn't exist, right?"
"That's what you think. It really does, though. My family has practiced it for years."
Arthur really hoped he wouldn't see those three. There was one person he hated more than he hated them, and that one person was long gone, away in Russia. He would never see him again.
He was glad to see his brothers again, though. He walked in that day after school to see his brothers wrecking havoc. All four of them. Peter, aged 12, saw him first.
"ARTIE!" He ran and jumped into Arthur's arms.
"Hey, Peter. How have you been?"
"It's been boring without you! You were my nerd buddy. All Alistair, Patrick, and Seamus do is make fun of me..."
"Only geeks like Harry Potter, dweeb." Seamus, aged 16, butted in. "I guess it's fine to see you, Arthur."
"Seamus, will you stop being so pessimistic all the time? Good to see you," said Patrick, aged 20.
"Bunny, you've grown." Alistair ruffled Arthur's hair. Alistair was 23. "You're going to make this family proud."
Arthur chuckled softly. "I hope so. That's why I moved with dad."
"Mum does miss you. Say you'll come for Christmas?"
"Of course I will, Peter. I was planning on it. I did promise her I would." Arthur kissed Peter's forehead before setting him down. "And I always keep my promises."
"Yeah, we know you do." Alistair took a seat on the couch. Patrick and Seamus sat beside him. "So, have you found any partners?"
"No. Did you honestly think I would?"
"I didn't. Peter and Alistair seemed to think you would, and Patrick is not really sure."
"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence in me." Arthur rolled his eyes.
When fall break was over, the school year moved even more sluggishly than before. Arthur was harassed even more by the Twatwaffle Trio. Francis still hadn't managed to dig up any dirt on Arthur yet, but he was working on it. He had hoped Arthur's brothers would talk, but they didn't, no matter how much candy he offered the little one.
He cornered Arthur after school one day to try to drill him for information and dirty secrets.
"What is your deal?" Francis nearly shouted at him. "Why do you not have any dirty secrets or- or- any family members willing to rat you out?!"
Arthur nearly laughed. "Because I warned them about you, Bonnefoy. Even my family knows when to trust each others' judgment. Now, I have somewhere to be."
"Where, huh? A secret brothel that you're a part of?"
"No. Drama club."
"Of course you're a member of drama club! You're a total nerd."
"Better than being a branleur. Now, please move." Arthur pushed past him to get to the auditorium. Francis followed him and sat in the back of the darkened auditorium.
Arthur was a very good actor, and one of the supporting characters that had a large part. Francis watched, looking for any faltering or any cues that were missed by Arthur. There were none. The whole dress rehearsal went smoothly, especially for a high school production. As the lights came back up, Francis stood and left the auditorium. He waited for Arthur.
Arthur left the auditorium feeling better than he had in a few weeks. A good dress rehearsal can do that to you. "What do you need, Bonnefoy?"
"That was... surprisingly good."
Arthur was shocked to hear a compliment coming from him. "...thanks." They were awkwardly quiet for a few moments. "...listen. I know that we need someone to do our makeup because our old person just quit tonight. Would you mind..?"
"I wouldn't mind." Francis looked at the floor beneath him. "Where are you going for Christmas?"
"I'm going back to England to see my mother and siblings."
"Are you excited?"
"Of course. I don't see them as often as I'd like." Arthur looked at Francis. "Why are you still walking with me? I thought you hated me."
"Well, I don't hate you... you just... you're just a mystery, you know? And people usually either don't like or are scared of things they don't know. I chose to not like you."
"Hmm. Nice to know."
"We got off on the wrong foot. Can we try this again?"
"Sure. I've got nothing else to lose." Arthur decided. "But let's try after Christmas break is over. It would feel odd to try it now."
"I agree."
"So, until then, shove off." Arthur hip checked him before walking home.
"Ah, what an ass." Francis's eyes traveled up and down Arthur's retreating form. "What an ass."
Nothing really interesting happened over the course of the show, nor Christmas break. When school was back in session, though, things got odd.
"Hey, there's Eyebrows." Gilbert pointed to Arthur, who had turned the corner down the hall.
"Let him be, you two." Francis looked at his friends. "He's actually not that bad." His friends looked at him like he grew two heads and turned in to a dragon.
"...who are you and what have you done with Francis?" Antonio jabbed. "But seriously, why do you not hate him now?"
"We talked before Christmas break. He's not a bad guy. Just antisocial."
"Or you just have a thing for him," Gilbert smirked.
"I do not!"
"You do! You can't fool us. We've been your friends for years."
Francis sighed and looked away. "Just shut up."
"Oh, this is gold! I'm going to go tell him now!" Antonio sprinted off.
"The fuck you will!" Francis sprinted after him. He had to stop after a few seconds to take a breather. He was extremely out of shape. Antonio was all the way down the hall when Francis began to run again.
Arthur turned the corner and slammed right into Antonio. "Eyebrows! Francis wants to ask you out on a date!"
"What what?"
"He does! He likes you! He doesn't like anyone!" Arthur began to smile a little.
Francis caught up to him and hit Antonio. "He's lying! Whatever he's telling you, he lied!"
The smile faded. "...so... you don't like me. I thought so."
"Uh- uh-"
"I have to go to class. See you later." Arthur hurried off.
"Oh my god Francis. You fucked yourself over." Antonio gave him a pointed look.
"I know..." he groaned. "What can I do?"
"You asked the right person, Franny. Gil and I will talk and we'll give you our ideas." Francis got a little scared. He remained scared for the rest of the week until Gilbert and Antonio arrived at his door. Antonio had his guitar.
"Okay. You have three options. Number one: you can break into his house and confess your undying love to him!" Antonio said.
"No." Francis shot the idea down quickly.
"Told you he'd say no, Toni. Two: you can go to his family in England and confess to them the day before his birthday. When he goes back, be hidden in a huge present box and be his birthday present!"
"Again, no," Francis said.
"Okay. Option three, then. Buy a dozen roses. All white. Hand them to him saying 'listen, I've made many mistakes in my life, but this is the one that has hurt me the most. I know you like white roses a lot, so I got you some. Please give me another chance.' Watch as his eyes light up and he takes you back in a jiffy."
"I can do that," Francis said.
Arthur sat in the living room, watching Chopped. He couldn't cook at all, but he did like watching other people cook. He could relate a little to Gordon Ramsay. He jumped when the doorbell went off. He got up and answered the door. "What do you want?"
"I-I wanted to apologize? I... I do like you. I just wanted to be the one to tell you and not Antonio. He just went off after I told him not to and... I'm sorry. Can I have another chance?" Francis offered up the roses.
Arthur thought it over. He held out his hand. "...fine. Just... don't screw up."
Francis beamed and handed him the flowers. "We can go on a date this Sunday if you want to. I'll pick you up."
"That sounds fine to me. Should I dress nice?"
"Yes. I'll be here at noon to pick you up."
"Okay. See you then." Arthur shut the door, then sniffed the roses and smiled.
Francis ran down the block to where Antonio and Gilbert were. "He said yes!"
"We told you he would." Antonio grinned cheekily.
"Whatever. I can't wait until you two get crushes. I'm going to laugh." Francis flicked Antonio's nose.
Okay, so... this was just going to be a one-shot and I was going to put all three stories in one chapter but that would be too long for me to write in one sitting.
Comment and tell me who I should write for next!