#i just imagine he's got so many weird sayings in his back pocket that he just remembers older family members saying

[dcvidsrossi]

Rossi: You know what they say...

Rossi: You can lead a herring to water, but you have to walk really fast or he'll die.

[joemama-2]

Made With Love

toji x reader

tags: fluff, minor angst, toji's own version of the bakery girl

i think we all need soft toji in our lives! ^ - ^

toji isn't soft. he is actually the complete opposite of it. he's big, gruff, has nasty scars on his body, his hands are rough and calloused from years of fighting and killing for money. his dark eyes are sharp, lips downturned into a frown automatically. in other words, he's not used to gentleness, kindness, sweet things.

so if someone saw him lurking outside the cute little bakery that opened up a few months ago, he wouldn't even have an answer. toji isn't soft, but he is curious. that curiosity only gets him so far though, considering he's never been inside said bakery, until today. call it stupidity, bravery, or just plain irrelevant, but he almost feels this pull, like he's on the other end of a magnet.

the opposing end isn't the bakery that's pulling him in, it's you.

it's early, he knows. you've only just opened shop and maybe he should've came when there was other people so he could blend it, so your eyes wouldn't be so fixated on him. for a split moment he dares look up to you. it's a mistake, he thinks, so he looks back down at the array of pastries demonstrated in front of him under a soft, warm lighting. lo-fi music plays in the background and the air feels cozy, home-like. it's strange.

"just looking." is all he mutters, hands in the pockets of the sweats he's worn one too many times.

you smile, he can't see it but he can feel it. standing behind the counter, you embrace nothing more than complete serenity, friendliness, kindness, softness. "is there anything in particular you are looking for? we have many options and it could be a little overwhelming." god, even your voice is perfect.

he stiffly clears his throat. "no thanks." and you nod. he realizes that this is extremely awkward. what is he supposed to say? he wasn't actually planning on buying anything, not like he could if he wanted to anyways.

"well, these few are our best sellers." you gesture to the first row. didn't he say he was just looking and that he didn't need help? or were you just that perceptive to see his internal struggle? "the second row has our custard filling, the third has jelly and chocolate." and so you begin explaining each pastry to him as if it's some sort of out of this world concept, like it genuinely interests you talking about stupid sweets.

speaking of sweets, he thinks it all looks the same. he holds back a grimace just imagining how sweet they are, some littered with powder and others with drizzling of sorts, some with both. "you got any plain stuff?" he says, finally finding the courage to look back at you, and much to his dismay, you were already looking at him.

a soft chuckle escapes your lips. "plain? you mean boring?"

you think you're so funny, don't you? he simply raises an eyebrow, head tilting ever so slightly. "sure, boring."

your smile feels infectious and he fights back the strange fluttering in his stomach. he knows what it is, of course, hell, he had a wife and a son. but the feeling alone scares him. nope, nope, nope. not again.

"don't have much of a sweet tooth, do you?" you ask, grabbing a cute little pink box, custom decorated to represent your logo. he barely shrugs a shoulder. "interesting, you might be the first to come into a bakery and demand something that isn't sweet."

"only one." he replies back (because that's all he has money for, already dreading having to watch you count his coins), watching your delicate fingers reach in with a pink set of tongs. jesus christ, just how many pink things did you have?

you hum in response, eyes flickering up over the counter to him. "you know, this is your first time actually coming inside, isn't it? i was beginning to think you just had a loitering problem."

his brows furrow, stoic demeanor breaking for a quick second. you noticed him? he doesn't know if he should be embarrassed, flattered or weirded out that you were watching him, while he watched you. but he plays it off. "decided to bite the bullet today, see if it's worth the rave."

you chuckle and he starts to melt. god damn you. "definitely is." you finish packing the box up and he sees that you've given him one from every row. sealing the box with a cute little sticker that says 'made with love', you grab a pen and draw a heart on the top of it. you walk to the register and he follows stiffly, placing the box down. "we strive to give our customers the best of the best. but it's out secret ingredient that keeps people coming back."

he raises an eyebrow again. "secret ingredient?"

you hum and nod with a smile. "would you like to know what it is?"

he hesitates, suddenly inhaling a deep breath. with a nod, he grumbles. "sure."

and you lean in closer, as if getting ready to share him a top secret, even looking around, when the place is empty except for you two. bringing a hand to cup around your mouth, you whisper. "love."

he's not amused, thinking your response is quite corny. but when you giggle, eyes crinkling at the corners, he almost feels like smiling with you. he doesn't, but he'll play along. "love?"

"love." you say with finality. "lots and lots of it, deep love, intense love." this playful banter warms his chest, he thinks it shouldn't. "and this," you tap the box. "i made it with extra love." your eyebrow raises, head tilting.

his eyes scrutinize your face, looking for any sort of double intentions. why are you so nice? and why are you so nice to him? he should be disgusted, really. he should scoff and walk away, glaring at you like you're the most stupidest person ever. but he just can't bring himself to. because toji is smart, he can read people well, and all he can see on that cute face of yours is just....genuine happiness. he wonders if he's jealous you can just spread positivity and warmness without thinking twice.

you're dangerous.

after the silence, you slide the box to him. "on the house."

he huffs. "i'm not a charity case."

"who says you are?"

"you're giving me free food, what else do you call that?

"uh, i don't know, being a good person?" you huff a laugh through your nostrils. "think of it as a trial run, so next time, you won't be disappointed. not like that would be possible in the first place since they taste wonderful."

he's quiet and still, not sure what to do. someone handing him free food can be both a blessing and a curse? could you tell he looked raggedy? didn't have much, if any, money to his name. but the longer he stares at your face, the more he feels himself giving in.

just like a magnet.

slowly, he takes the box, as if expecting you'll say you were joking. it feels light in his hands, weird, foreign. should he thank you?

but no matter what, you continue smiling at him like he hung the stars for you. "enjoy my love, you'll want to come back for more."

you're witty, and pretty damn adorable. he nods, gulping down the lump in his throat. is he seriously getting emotional over this? "we'll see."

and just like that, he turns around to leave. as he walks down the sidewalk, his hands clutch the box tighter, holding it closer to his chest. looking down at your dumb heart you draw, his own stutters, breathing getting a little heavier.

toji isn’t soft, but he likes soft things, soft people. so maybe this is why the box feels comforting to him. like a streak of paint in his dull world. like an ice cream on a hot summer day. like a kiss under the moonlight. like dancing in the rain with someone you love.

love. made with love. you gave him your love for free, and for that, he huffs a chuckle (?) through his nostrils. there goes that all too familiar flutter again. you know, a small part of him hopes he can taste this "love" you made these with, hopes that your love can pour into him, help him, save him.

but he's not sure if he wants to be saved yet.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Congrats on 3K followers, which you so deserve! My request is because The Hold Steady's song "Stuck Between Stations" is stuck in my head and the lyric is, shockingly, "Tonight it's like he's stuck between stations". Have a wonderful writing weekend!

Thank you so much! I decided to take this super literally and do something a little silly. Hope you enjoy!

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

The train was late, but what else is new?

Eddie watched the board as the estimated arrival time kept going up. He’d have to text Elliot to let him know he’d be late for their appointment.

At least Elliot was a regular client of his and would understand.

Eventually, only 18 minutes late, the train arrived.

Eddie shoved through the crowd to get on, not even caring if he had to stand sandwiched between sweaty people as long as he got to his shop.

By some miracle, he managed to get the only empty seat left at the back of the car.

And it was next to possibly the hottest guy he’d ever seen.

He was wearing tight jeans and a polo, glasses, a nose ring, and his hair was perfectly mussed. Eddie was such a sucker for the preppy hipster look. It never turned out well for him, but dammit if he didn’t try anyway.

“Mind if I sit?” Eddie asked the guy.

“Nope,” he replied, not even looking up from his phone.

He was furiously typing something, and Eddie was doing his best to not read anything.

But it sure was difficult and Eddie had pretty good eyesight and also never learned manners.

It’s not even that she left me for someone else. She tried to say that my coming out as bi ruined our relationship. Our relationship was ruined way before that! And she knew saying that would make me feel like shit so-

“Am I entertaining you?” The guy said from next to him.

Eddie startled and looked up, right into the warmest brown eyes he’d ever looked into.

“Sorry. It kinda seemed like you were working on a novel. I’m an avid reader.”

The man snorted and put his phone face down on his leg. “I’m Steve. You should at least know my name if you’re gonna know my business.”

“Eddie. I am sorry. Even more sorry your ex was clearly a piece of shit,” Eddie nudged his shoulder with his own.

The train started moving and Eddie glanced up at crowd of people in the car.

“Yeah, well. It was bound to happen. I wanted to settle down, she wanted to travel and focus on her career. Would’ve never worked,” Steve sighed. “Onto the next!”

Eddie snorted. “How long were you together?”

“Three years.”

“Ouch.”

“It was coming for a while,” Steve shrugged. “I feel like I mourned the relationship while I was still in it. Plus, she moved in with her new boyfriend, so it’s only a matter of time before I move in with mine.”

Eddie felt a weird pain in his chest. “Oh, you’ve got a boyfriend?”

Steve smirked at him. “Not yet.”

The train slowed and then came to a stop. The usual announcement for the next station didn’t start. Instead, an announcement let them know they were experiencing a short delay.

Eddie groaned and let his head hit the window next to him.

“I’m sure my shoulder is more comfortable than the window.”

Eddie’s head shot up at Steve’s suggestion.

Steve was blushing, looking down at his phone like he hadn’t even spoken. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Eddie imagined it.

“If you want. The last short delay took 25 minutes,” Steve continued, finally looking over at Eddie with a small smile.

“I have to let my client know I’m gonna be even later,” Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket to send another text. It may not go through underground, but at least he could say he tried.

“Client? Are you a therapist?”

“Close. Tattoo artist,” Eddie finished up the text and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, my friend Will is a tattoo artist! He keeps telling me to get something, but I’m not the biggest fan of needles.” Steve looked apologetic. “I’m worried I’d pass out.”

Eddie was already planning exactly what he’d tattoo on Steve’s body.

“You’d be surprised how many people I tattoo who don’t like needles. Is it a pain thing or just the needles in general?”

“Both? I guess?” Steve was slowly leaning closer to Eddie’s side.

“Well, the pain is easy. I have a numbing cream I recommend to first timers or people getting something done in an especially sensitive spot that works great.” Eddie let his arm rest across the back of the seat, skin brushing against Steve’s back. “The other part is a little harder, but usually I go the old school distractions method.”

“Like a toddler with a shot?” Steve laughed.

“Exactly! I play music they like or put on a show they wanna watch. Sometimes we just talk the whole time. Sometimes they prefer to just close their eyes and pretend they’re somewhere else. Everyone’s different.”

Eddie watched Steve soak in that information. He technically didn’t take walk-ins anymore except for special events, but he’d be willing to have Steve in his chair right after Elliot’s appointment. He’d stay late. He’d do it for free if it meant having his hands on Steve’s skin.

“Have you ever had someone leave before it’s done?”

“Twice,” Eddie nodded. “Once was a drunk guy who insisted he was sober enough to do the tattoo and halfway through, he threw up and then just walked out. Don’t know if he ever bothered to get it done. The other was a woman who had chosen her ribs as her first tattoo ever. Don’t ever do that, by the way. Not a great start. She quit on the second word of the lyrics she was getting.”

Steve snorted. “What were the lyrics?”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t remember. I’m sure she regrets even trying all the time.”

Steve laughed again and leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie let his arm wrap around Steve’s shoulder and squeeze.

“So? You gonna get one? Did I convince you?” Eddie said quietly. He didn’t want to ruin this moment between them, stuck between stations for the foreseeable future.

“Hm. I’ll consider it. Do you have room on your books for me?” Steve turned his face into Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure I can make room for you, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart already? What a sweet talker you are,” Steve mumbled against his shoulder.

“I read people pretty well and you are a sweetheart. No doubt about it.”

Steve groaned. “Are you always like this?”

“Not at all.”

Something in Eddie’s voice must have sounded genuine. Steve looked up at him, his face close enough to Eddie’s to feel his breath.

“This is kind of crazy.”

“What is?”

“This. I feel safe here with you. I’m ready to let you give me a tattoo even though I hate needles.”

Eddie’s fingers traced patterns along his upper arm, mindlessly planning out a tattoo already.

“Could give you one right here,” Eddie tapped his bicep. “Something small, dainty linework, a sunflower maybe.”

“A sunflower? Isn’t that kinda feminine?” Steve’s fingers were tracing a pattern on Eddie’s thigh. “Not that I’m against it because of that, it just doesn’t seem to fit me.”

And maybe yeah, if Eddie thought about it, he could see how Steve’s body type was thicker, muscular, closer to jock than city hipster living off of coffee and cigarettes. Flowers might not be the first thing someone would think of when looking at Steve.

But when talking to him, when seeing how soft he got with an arm around him, how he turned into the affection, it was pretty obvious he should be covered in delicate work.

He deserves delicate things, Eddie could already tell.

He wanted to give him that.

He wanted to give him anything.

“Someone as radiant as you needs something that represents that. Anytime you’re ready,” Eddie couldn’t help the kiss he pressed to the top of Steve’s head.

The short delay turned into a long delay, but Steve and Eddie talked the entire time. When they finally got moving, Steve stayed on even though the next station was his stop.

“Think I’d like this tattoo artist to take my tattoo virginity,” Steve smirked at him as the train started moving again.

“As long as you’re okay sitting through my appointment first. Might get boring.”

“Doubt being near you could ever be boring.”

Getting stuck on the train with Steve turned into barely leaving his side for weeks, months, years.

Nothing felt as natural as being with his sunflower.

[jeanbie]

PRESCOTT ★ masterlist.

pairing: connie x reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, awkwardness/second-hand-embarrassment, porn with plot, alcohol, sex under the influence, semi-public sex, quickies, blowjobs, doggy | wc: 13k

note: the yapper allegations are true - example a: this fic. 10k of connie and mama, all because you guys overwhelmed me with love for ghostface!! it's a gift for you guys ✩࿐  connie is sooooo gekko coded in this fic btw!!

★ sequel to ghostface

⏤ After Halloween, you've been trying your hardest to avoid being near Connie Springer, but a little bit of alcohol on Porco's birthday is all it takes for you to find yourself back in his arms.

You can think of a thousand different reasons to avoid going to Porco’s birthday party, but all of them turn to ash in your mouth the second Ymir levels you with her dirtiest glare imaginable.

“Just how many birthdays are there going to be in November?” you ask, punching in the number of the last bottle of Dr Pepper into the vending machine. It threatens to hold the bottle hostage for a moment until you shake the machine by its sides, all whilst desperately trying to avoid looking at Ymir.

You’ve never been a very good liar, nor a great actress, which is exactly why you’re not at all surprised that she’s managed to notice your strangeness since Armin’s birthday. At one point, you thought you were doing a marvellous job at containing the humiliation inside of you, but Ymir’s analytical breakdown of every irregularity in your behaviour made you aware of just how obvious you’ve been making it. It’s a wonder she hasn’t already figured out the exact reason for your distance, created suspiciously after leaving Armin’s flat.

But, it’s not like you can just outrightly say that you got fucked by one of her friends in Eren’s cupboard on Halloween. The timing wasn’t right. And, on top of that, there was nothing remotely wrong with that fact to justify your withdrawal from society because of it — that had happened purely because of how hot Connie actually was underneath that Ghostface mask.

And now, every memory of that moment has been altered so that his face appears bowed over your spread legs instead of that sloping plastic mouth of wide horror. And it’s dreadfully humiliating.

“Porco’s is the last one,” Ymir says, leaning her weight on the other vending machine full with snacks. The library has an entire wing that permits food and drink, but with midterms looming around the corner, you’re not about to waste any more time drinking down here when you could be working, and no more time spent on conjuring up the image of a man you’ve met — and fucked — once.

“I barely know Porco,” you try. It’s true. While you’ve been running with Ymir and Reiner for a long time, it’s only been a few months since you met their extended group consisting of Porco, Pieck, Yelena and a few other faces you only see at house parties or in between classes. “Did I even get invited, or is this one out of pity, too?”

Ymir rolls her eyes. “More out of association, really. Plus, he thinks you’re hot, so that helped.”

“I’m charmed,” you mutter, taking a swig of the Dr Pepper before she, too, decides to rattle her jacket pocket for some loose change. “I’m just your hot friend.”

“Damn straight,” Ymir laughs, sliding her coins into the machine, eyes torn between two drinks. A line is forming quickly behind the pair of you, which makes Ymir slow down on purpose as she makes her choice. With her tongue between her teeth, she thinks long and hard before saying, “Seems like you made quite the impression at Armin’s birthday.”

You try very hard to ignore the regretful twist in your belly. “What? With who?”

Ymir looks at you from the side, crouching after a beady glare to get her drink. “Who are you expecting?”

“Nobody. I’m just curious.”

“Yeah, right. You’ve been acting weird lately,” she accuses, finally giving way to the growing line of students. Ymir looks up in acknowledgement as Reiner rounds one of the glass doorways, immediately heading straight to the instant coffee machine with a grumble. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed. We have.”

“Who’s we?” you ask, slinking in her shadow as she sets off towards Reiner. There must be some sort of gravitational pull between the pair of them — it’s probably what makes them so enjoyable to be around, the reason you choose to call them your closest friends.

Ymir claps Reiner on the back. “We is us. We’ve noticed.”

“Noticed what, sorry?” Reiner asks distractedly, looking up once his little cup is under the tap, the machine screaming to life.

“How weird she’s been since Halloween.”

“Oh. Yeah, you have been acting sus,” Reiner comments, in a way that makes you feel like he’s simply going along with whatever Ymir is saying to spite you. It wouldn’t be the first time, either. He had played his part in convincing you to go to Eren’s Halloween party, and you conveniently remember that party being the main factor behind your week-long self-imposed exile.

“How?” you snort, rather defensively. 

“Just weird,” Ymir explains. “Like how you totally blanked us when we called you over the other day outside of Tom’s.”

You vaguely recall seeing Ymir and Reiner standing with a bunch of people outside the corner shop a few days ago. Behind Reiner’s wide body had stood Connie Springer, dazzling in his baggy blue jeans, and it had been enough for you to simply wave and be on your way. 

“Being busy doesn’t qualify as being weird, guys.”

Reiner stirs his coffee and shrugs. In hindsight, you know that there are probably better ways to get over the embarrassment you feel from Halloween. It wasn’t even as if you regretted what happened — you didn’t. Being bent over a suitcase in Eren’s utility cupboard had been a thrill, a real pleasure. Connie had been concealed beneath a Scream movie mask and you were blissfully unaware of him, and you like to think that is the only reason why you acted so out of character. 

Cumming with your legs in the air, desperately fiddling with your clit and greedily trying to catch every last drop of Ghostface’s cum? That was so unlike you! You’ve never been that horny, that turned on, that animalistic and needy. And seeing Connie a few days later, looking the way that he did, becoming a familiar face — you can’t explain the feeling very well, but mortified comes close.

How are you supposed to look him in the eye without replaying what you did together over and over again? How are you supposed to face him and try and be normal, when you were anything but when he had his cock up your cunt?

“Still being weird, by the way.”

Ymir’s voice doesn’t register until she grabs the back of your neck gently and squeezes, and it’s as if you’ve been rebooted to life. The library canteen manifests into view once more, and you look over at Ymir and Reiner sheepishly, trying to think of something to say that can justify your behaviour.

But nothing can. Yes — you’re being weird.

Unfortunately, you think your strange behaviour will only continue once Ymir looks over your head and smiles, and a wave of dread washes over you. 

Please be someone I like. Please be anyone but the one person I do not want to see—

“No fucking way,” Ymir laughs joyfully. “Congrats on finding the library, Pock.”

A deep laugh sounds from behind you, and you brave a glance over your shoulder in hopes that it might just be Porco standing there. But as soon as you turn and spot three people standing there, one being the very last person you wanted to see, you feel your body grow hot and your mind whirl.

Great. Fucking great.

Porco glances between you and Ymir for a second, a smirk still on his face, and you’re almost overcome with relief when Reiner pulls you back to stand near his hip slightly, an arm draped over your shoulders.

“First time for everything,” Porco finally replies. By a small mercy, he has devoted his attention to Ymir, the little blonde girl behind his elbow falling into place near Ymir’s armpit. Not that you’re looking at any of them — your eyes are stupidly glued to the guy standing just in front of Reiner. 

The guy who had you undone in a fucking utility cupboard.

Unlike at the party, your options are limited on what to look at instead of Connie, which is precisely why you enslave yourself to taking him all in, every last detail of his face, his body, while his eyes are drawn to Ymir as she talks. 

Just like how he was on Armin’s birthday, every feature on Connie’s face is practically glowing with charm. It is a miracle that he ended up being more attractive now than he was with the mask on — you hadn’t put too much thought into conjuring up a false image under the mask that night, but even if you had, you wouldn’t have even considered pulling together someone who looked like that.

As you’re ogling his face and body, your heart lurches unexpectedly when Connie glances back over to where you and Reiner are standing, a smile pulling up on his lips. A small set of dimples appear in his cheeks as he does so, the sharp shape of his eyebrows rising as he studies you in particular. 

Of course he recognises you. After all, Connie was the only one wearing a mask that night, physically speaking. You pray that Reiner isn’t paying close enough attention to the wandering eyes of his friend as Connie takes a good, long look and you half-heartedly fidget into his side.

“Just you guys?”

Even though your eyes have zeroed in on Connie’s mouth, you blink and process the question with a delay. Thankfully, it seems like Reiner’s talking to Connie instead of you, which you’re grateful for. You have nothing to say to Connie, anyway. 

Connie’s green eyes flicker up from his tight assessment of you to Reiner’s face — another act of mercy. 

He nods his head backwards, gesturing towards the circular stairs that spin up to the third floor, “Some of us are on the third floor. Marco, Jean…you know. I’m going in about an hour, I’ve gotta go to work.”

Whatever else he says you completely zone out from, though not on purpose. Connie looks both the same and completely different to how he did on Armin’s birthday; his buzzed hair is now a blonde wash, his skin looking more tanned from it. 

Now that you’re up close, you count at least three moles on his face in a cluster of spaces, under his eye and across his cheeks. He says something, the tick of his jaw making you glance down ever so slightly to his neck before lifting back to his face — where in a shock, you discover his eyes are back on you.

For how long have you been gawking at him? And how long has he been looking back?

“Did you get that from here?” 

You blink. Then, you realise he’s talking to you.

Surprised, you jut your head forwards slightly and look at him with wide eyes. “Sorry?”

Remarkably, Connie laughs, as though he finds your bemusement amusing. He points at the bottle of Dr Pepper in your hand, smile widening into a grin. “That,” he says.

“What?” For a second, you’re mostly confused. Out of everything you could have expected Connie to say to you after Halloween, you had never guessed it would be about the drink in your hand. 

Reiner’s arm loosens around your shoulders as he turns to look at you, probably because your silence is stretching on a little too long to be normal. Unbeknownst to Reiner, you know that judging by Connie’s own lapsed silence, he’s perfectly content with waiting until you answer — just to hear you answer, if you even do. 

You carefully look back at Connie, as if trying to gauge his sincerity, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something in his eyes, a taunting lift of his eyebrows.

He likes your silence. He’s relishing in it.

“Yeah,” you decide to say finally, pointing over your shoulder to the vending machines. “There.”

Connie nods. He could have quite easily figured it out himself, and once he looks away, towards Ymir rather than the vending machines, you realise belatedly that he isn’t actually interested. He was just trying to start a conversation. And you blew it.

“I think I had the last one, though,” you add, which makes Connie break away from Ymir’s story she’s sharing with Porco and the blonde girl with a little bit too much enthusiasm to be faked. Reiner’s entire arm falls from your shoulders and he assesses the gap between you and Connie. When did it get smaller? 

Connie steps closer, only once, craning his head around your shoulder to the machines.

“For real?” he laughs, inspecting the selection of drinks from afar. Then, Connie hums, “what else is there?”

Is he seriously asking you about the drinks in the vending machine right now? 

Your mouth falls open in surprise — this is not at all how you expected this to go down. You’d been toying between Connie being a total douche and making lewd references to the cupboard, or perhaps being so disinterested in your existence that all he said was hello and nothing more. The casual topic is almost disturbing, so out of the character profile of his that you drew up in the days spent avoiding him.

“Um…I’m not sure,” you reply honestly. The only thing on your mind is him, and his black cloak in the dark cupboard. His voice, his laugh, his hands on your body.

Beside you, Reiner clears his throat and he shoots both you and Connie an insincere smile, before making a speedy exit towards Porco while Ymir is busy entertaining the other girl. You watch with dismay as he moves away. 

How could he just leave you here like this? Of course, he doesn’t know that you’re in an internal battle against your feelings for Connie, but still, solidarity! You can’t believe his lack of loyalty.

“I’ll have a look,” is what Connie replies with, and you blink furiously at him as he shortens the distance between you and steps past you. His hand slips very slightly past your leg, a finger delicately brushing past your thigh, and if it weren’t for your hyper-fixation on his every gesture and movement, you might have missed it entirely. 

All you can do is watch over your shoulder as he walks towards the vending machines, rather slowly at that, and stands in front of it to browse the selection.

You’re left standing there, away from the throng of friends discussing Porco’s party, even further from the guy who rearranged your guts on Halloween and has been a plague in your thoughts. And for a few seconds, you’re torn on where to go next.

Stand with your friends and avoid talking to Connie? Stay in your place? Leave and go back to your things?

You do none of those things. There is no reasonable explanation for why your body decides to turn and head in Connie’s direction, no explanation you think is good enough. But, you move regardless, until your feet stagger in Connie’s shadow and he glances to the side, surprising himself when he sees that you’ve followed him.

You look between him and the machine, careful not to spend too long caught in the surprised yet pleased look in his eyes.

“Told you,” you say weakly, looking back at the machine.

“Yup, I can see that,” Connie replies, with a slight laugh that feels oddly reminiscent of the way he chuckled over your bent body in the cupboard. His eyes drop to your mouth for a brief second before clamping on your eyes once more, “You want something?”

It takes a beat for you to realise he’s asking in relation to the vending machine. “Oh, no. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies, and maybe you’re overthinking it, but he sounds almost confused. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s confused as to why you’ve followed him over here to do nothing once you’re by his side. He wouldn’t be the only one confused by that; you’re still trying to make sense of it yourself. 

Once his eyes are back on the vending machine, you let out an internal groan and focus on the outline of his jaw, desperately thinking of something to say before he punches in the numbers for a bottle of Fanta and says, “you good?”

There’s a pause. What can you say, now that the chance to say anything is here?

You glance back towards the group near the coffee machine and bite the inside of your lip. They’re just a few steps away, engrossed in a conversation you might want to be a part of. Instead, you look back at Connie and nod dumbly, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he nods, crouching to get his bottle. 

Why the hell is this so awkward? Last week, this man had been up your snatch, trying to shove his dick up your ass. Why is seeing him after the fact so fucking uncomfortable?

“Did I do something?” You don’t know what you expected Connie to say after he got his drink, but it definitely wasn’t that.

“What? No?”

His brows pinch together slightly. “Just thought maybe you got uncomfortable or something.”

“…Why?” you ask slowly.

“You’ve avoided coming near me every time I’ve seen you since Armin’s birthday,” he starts. Has Connie suddenly appearing everywhere after Halloween been less of a coincidence than you originally thought, and instead more of a deliberate choice? 

You blink, following along with his words, “and you blocked me on Instagram, so I just—” And how the fuck does he know about that?

So, he’s right; you did block him after Armin’s party, but only because you viewed his story on accident after a stalking session once you got home. Honestly, you never thought he’d notice, never need to notice. The hot flush that swarms your body is uncontrollable.

“I…” you start, but the words die like ash in your mouth.

Connie faces you, looking thoughtful. “It’s cool if you got cold feet after Halloween. Sorry if you had a bad time.”

“Wha—wait, I never said I had a bad time,” you rush to say, probably sounding a bit too eager, but it’s too late to reign it back in. You mutter to the floor, “the opposite, actually.”

“So, you did like it.”

“Wasn’t that kind of obvious?” you reply, laughing slightly. “I just…I don’t know. I didn’t expect to see you after Halloween. I just freaked out, it’s not personal.”

“Blocking me felt personal.”

“I panicked! I didn’t want you to think I was weird for finding your Instagram and then looking at your stories and posts and—” You stop. In order for Connie to find out that you blocked him, it would require him doing some online stalking of his own, and once the penny drops, your head jerks back in alarm. “I…I’m sorry?”

At that, Connie sniggers, shaking his head and taking a step back when someone manifests out of thin air behind you in demand of the vending machine. He reaches out for your arm and gently guides you away with him. 

Frantically, you look back at the group; Ymir is neck deep in her story, the blonde in her arms enraptured by whatever it is she’s saying. Reiner and Porco are the only ones taking interest in you and Connie, but you look away before their curious glances can garner any attention.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” Connie says, his hand dropping after a beat of holding your arm. “We’re good, mama.”

Mama — just the word makes you feel weightless.

“Mm,” is all you can say in reply.

But Connie seems unperturbed by your lack of response. “You going to Pock’s party this weekend?”

Right — the very thing you had been discussing before your entire afternoon tilted on its axis. Porco’s upcoming birthday was becoming a hot topic in conversation, but you aren’t even sure if you’re going or not. An invite through somebody else doesn’t feel like much of an invite to you, despite that being the case for the last two parties you’ve been in attendance of.

“Uh… Maybe,” you tell him. “I actually don’t know Porco that well.”

“Huh.” Connie’s brows raise, his mouth in a falling slope, “Really?” He looks to the side in Porco’s direction, but you don’t join him. You’re too busy analysing the crestfallen look on his face, wondering what on earth put it there. “I thought he liked you.”

“That’s what Ymir told me.”

He looks back at you immediately, “Do you like him?”

“I don’t even know him.” But, then again, you didn’t know Connie at one point, and it hadn’t been enough to deter you from taking his hand and letting him lead you into Eren’s cupboard with your skirt up over your arse. Based on the flat look on Connie’s face, you assume he’s probably thinking the same thing. 

“He’s not really my type,” you add, simply for no reason at all. But Connie’s face tugs up because of it.

He laughs shortly, “That’s good, then.”

Is it? You want to ask why, but Connie’s already looking back at the group and raising his brows in acknowledgement. All of them are looking over at the pair of you almost expectantly, and he addresses you with a simple smile and says, “Maybe I’ll see you at the party, then.”

Your heart is speeding up in your chest. Even though this entire conversation has been drier than bones, something inside of you wants him to stay. 

“You’re going?” you ask him, walking slowly by his side as you head back towards your mixed friends. 

“Of course,” Connie replies. “I’ll buy you a drink if I see you?”

“Yes,” you say, for it’s all you can say without feeling like you’re going to explode from overheating. And now that the group is mere steps away, you don’t want to compromise the secret hanging between you like a forbidden fruit, waiting for someone to pluck it off the branch and make it known to the world.

Connie says nothing else in confidence to you. All you catch once he turns to leave is a quick goodbye before he follows Porco back up the stairs to his books, meanwhile Ymir is officially taken with the blonde who is pulling her arm in their wake. Only Reiner remains, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“Don’t,” you caution him.

“Don’t what?”

“Just…don’t.”

Reiner grins; something tells you he knows more than he’s letting on that he does. But he saves you the drawn out humiliation of raising the point in the library, but you’re not in the clear, yet.

Not by a long shot.

21:43 Reiner: soooo 21:43 Reiner: what happened with you and connie 21:45 You: nothing? 21:45 You: i dont even know him lol 21:46 Reiner: why r u lying 21:46 You: ?? 21:47 Reiner: ik you guys fucked lol

A horrified cry leaves your mouth when the message pops up. All you’ve done since Armin’s birthday is avoid the window of possibility of anybody finding out what happened on Halloween. Are you really that bad of an actress?

21:50 You: ????? 21:51 Ymir: wtf 21:51 Ymir: when?? 21:51 Ymir: how do u even know eachother???? im so confused

For a while, you entertain not replying at all — the horror of both of your best friends now knowing your embarrassing secret for some unkind reason is still sinking in. 

But, Reiner seems all too enthusiastic to fill in with what he’s learned.

21:53 Ymir: hellooo???? 21:54 Reiner: on halloween hahah 21:54 Reiner: i only know because connie told me

(At the same time…)

21:55 Ymir: he’s obvs lying 21:55 You: why would he even tell you that? wtf 21:55 Ymir: ITS TRUE??

Lying would have been the smartest option. As Ymir begins to freak out, you berate yourself for not thinking of it sooner.

Still, the pressing irritation you feel in your head builds as you try and make sense of why Connie would even tell people. What on earth would he gain from doing that? A kick? An ego? 

Suddenly, Porco’s rumoured “crush” on you starts tasting sour in your mouth.

22:08 Reiner: he kept asking for your insta and i thought it was weird 22:08 Reiner: so i made him tell me why tf he was so desperate 22:08 Reiner: and he said he hooked up w u on halloween and was looking for u so he could like link up or something 22:08 Reiner: idk 22:09 Reiner: i think he was blocked anyway looool why would you do that

Hey, it had been a knee-jerk reaction! But you wouldn’t expect either of them to understand, not when you barely understood yourself. 

If only you could be like your drunken self all the time — maybe the simple mission of acting normal around Ghostface would be made ten times easier if you were. 

Your mind slides over the memory of the utility cupboard again, and you urgently shake your head and sigh, throwing your phone to the end of the bed with a groan.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so complicated if only you had left it alone. If you’d never gone online stalking, found Connie and then blocked him after viewing a story posted two minutes ago, then maybe you could have acted normal when the next meeting arose. 

And, while you’re thinking about it, at least it was in public. You can’t imagine how stupid you might have acted if Connie had found you alone, perhaps in a bar or at another party, where the dark lights and the loud music could have entranced you into his arms and bent over some other questionable surface.

Considering how often Connie and Halloween have resurfaced in your mind, you can’t honestly say that none of the above wouldn’t have happened if you saw him again. You were lucky to have escaped in the library, albeit after a very awkward exchange. 

With almost confident certainty, you believed there would be no chance Connie would want to broach a conversation with you again, not after the tremendous letdown of finding out the way you acted on Halloween was a one-time exclusive. 

Having reflected on the whole thing, and suffered the painful consequence of Ghostface being a sexy friend of a friend, you’ll never do it again. 

Your phone has been vibrating relentlessly since you threw it, and you reach for it once more and gloss over the messages. A few jump out:

22:18 Ymir: sorry its just too random 22:18 Ymir: im still in shock 22:18 Reiner: ikr 22:18 Reiner: someone needs to tell pock that his dreams of seducing her are over 22:19 Ymir: jfc 22:19 Ymir: im gay but even I’D pick connie over porco 22:19 Ymir: hey was he at least good?? 22:20 You: it was fine 22:20 Ymir: so thats a yes LMAO 22:20 Ymir: i just cant believe you let him fuck u on halloween 22:20 Ymir: YOU!!!  22:20 Ymir: its too amazing 22:21 Reiner: gotta hold her back at pocks bday lololol 22:21 Reiner: something abt a party just gets her going 22:21 You: why dont u stfu

Unbeknownst to them both, you’ve been having the same concerns. Porco’s birthday is a bump in the road you’re currently driving along to get to complete peace and happiness; the final birthday of November, the opportunity for a final drink before rushing to finish assignments before the Christmas rush begins, the scary certainty of seeing Ghostface again — only this time without his mask, which is honestly ten times worse in the sense that you can no longer pretend he is a thing, a someone, an entity drilling into you. 

He will instead be Connie Springer; handsome, charming, popular, and as you’ve been made aware, a man who has been trying to look you up online for whatever reason you’re unwilling to think of. 

And a little bit of alcohol never stopped you from making a complete and utter fool of yourself.

So far, so good: you’ve been at Invoke for an hour and a half now, and there have been no signs of Ghostface. 

Ghostface is what you have elected to calling Connie in an effort to keep him at an arms length, and so far, it has not been working in your favour. Every mention of Ghostface takes you back to the 31st, and now that you’ve been in the club for almost two hours and have made the stupid mistake of drinking two (single) vodka lemonades, you can already feel your conflicted feelings about the subject simply fading away. Which is terrible! The total opposite of what you want!

Every so often, around Porco’s attempts to seduce you, you’ve found your eyes wandering around the lower level of the club, anxiously searching for a buzzed head to appear in a crowd. It doesn’t seem as though Porco minds or has even noticed, for his conversation simply folds over into a discussion with Reiner over something you don’t understand. 

Unfortunately, however, your aimless people watching has caught someone else’s attention.

“Who’re you looking for?”

Instantly, you tense and rip your eyes off the crowd and back towards the voice, which belongs to Lynne, one of your friends from your Wednesday lectures and a good friend of Ymir’s. She smiles at you sweetly, eyebrows high.

“Oh, nobody, really.”

Lynne’s brows furrow until Ymir jumps in with, “She’s looking for Connie.”

You toss her the dirtiest glare you can conjure up, which she ignores pointedly, while Lynne’s features lift once again with recognition.

“Oh! The Spanish one?”

“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly, pinned under her eager gaze.

“With the really short hair?”

Your heart squeezes. “Oh, um—”

“—Yeah, Springer,” Ymir continues, immune to the look of pure disgrace on your face aimed in her direction. Knowing that there’s little you can do or say to keep her quiet on the matter, your shoulders sag and you lean back in your chair. By now, both Reiner and Porco have lent their ears to the cause, with both of them shuffling closer on their chairs.

Lynne sets her martini on the table. “I know him! My friend Lea has a crush on him, I think. Actually, I think a lot of the girls in the Quantum Mechanics class like him…”

Quantum Mechanics? Your eyebrows raise, not to mention with the effortless fact of Ghostface being more popular than you realised. Hardly surprising, though. If he was in one of your classes, you’d join the percentage.

“Girls take the Quantum Mechanics class?” Porco asks with a bemused laugh. “Wish I’d have known that before I picked Particle Physics. Nothing but nerds in there.”

“Don’t worry, your time picking up girls will come once you’re flying planes like Maverick,” Reiner assures him with a firm slap on the back.

“Wasn’t he in the Navy?” asks Lynne.

“There’s still time for all that,” Porco replies with a wave of his hand. While they focus on naval aviators and physics, you’re thankful the subject of Connie Springer has been put to rest, though you don’t forget to level Ymir with another dirty look before squirming in your chair and rising to your feet.

“Where’re you going?” Porco calls.

“Getting another drink,” you tell him. Your last glass of vodka lemonade had been drained a while ago. “Want one?”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,” he says, and while you’d rather like to avoid getting Porco’s hopes up now that his supposed “crush” on you has been made semi-public, it’s his birthday, and refusing would make you look like an asshole.

So, you nod and hang around while he chugs the last bit of his drink before rising to his feet, coming to your side with a hand on your lower back before you both set off down the miniature flight of stairs off the platform where the tables are, and down towards the sunken, dimly lit bar.

Since you arrived here, Invoke has doubled in guests; the dance floor is thick with dancing bodies, the music so loud that you can feel it vibrating through your feet and up your legs. Around the bar, a large crowd has formed, but you’re actually thankful of Porco when he shuffles you both into place at the far end, in an effort to slowly wedge the stragglers out of place once they’ve been served their drink.

“So, how’s your birthday been?” Might as well make some conversation to pass the time. 

Porco looks back at you, perhaps surprised you spoke first considering you’ve made a brilliant effort in saying, at most, four words all night. 

“Yeah, pretty good,” he replies with a smile. His arm tightens a smidge around your waist — you’re trying to ignore it valiantly. “My dad’s coming up tomorrow. Reckon I’ll be hungover for that.”

“That sounds nice,” you say politely. “…What’re you gonna order to drink?”

He scans the menu across the bar and hums; you see his lips tighten in on themselves as he thinks, before deciding on the worst drink imaginable, being a Fireball Cinnamon whiskey. You hope the cringe isn’t visible — who the hell orders whiskey in a club? Porco, apparently.

Three minutes pass and you’ve barely made a dent in the packed crowd by the bar, and as you’re still mulling over what vodka infused drink to indulge in, somebody slides into place on the free side of you. You feel their chest brushing past your arm, spot their elbow leaning on the surface next to your forearm, and the look on your face is no doubt comical when you lift your head and face the arrival to your left.

Porco turns his head, too, and his mouth widens into a joyful grin. 

“Hey! You made it!”

With an expression of frozen surprise, you all but gape up at Ghostface as he leans beside you, his eyes flickering from you to Porco in amusement before he launches into some birthday greeting, his eyes above your head as though you aren’t even there. Perhaps a mercy on his part — you lower your eyes to the golden view of his neck and collarbones, the shirt he’s wearing uncannily similar to both Porco and Reiner. Looks like they’re matching, though there’s no contest on who is wearing it the best.

Before your mouth can water, you look away, straight forwards behind the bar. Your game of reducing him to Ghostface is forgotten. You pleadingly stare at the bartender in hopes that they might take pity on your situation and come to take your order, but to no avail.

The friends talk over your head for a while before they remember you’re still there. Although Porco’s arm is still tied around your waist, you feel Connie’s fingers brush over your arm gently, your eyes darting back towards him. Traitors. 

“How’re we doing, mama? You good?”

Your jaw loosens. 

“We should do shots,” Porco declares over the top of your head.

Connie nods, smile still wide, “Sounds good to me. What do you think?” He looks back down at you curiously. 

Though your mouth is unbearably dry, and nothing sounds less appealing than the chemical-burn of a shot scratching down your throat, you muster a nod and helplessly turn back to the bartender, who has finally made his way around the sliding length of the bar and towards the three of you. 

It’s busy tonight, and you can’t blame him for being busy, but with the birthday boy who apparently has a crush on you attached to your waist like gorilla glue, and Ghostface who is potentially interested in you after fucking you over a random suitcase sewn into your side, every minor inconvenience is beginning to feel personal.

“Let’s do tequila,” Connie suggests.

Your reaction is instinctive, “I hate tequila. Anything else, please.”

Tequila is the demon drink — it is the cause of every terrible decision you’ve ever made. It’s the small shot you took that made you unhinged on Halloween. It’s the first domino to fall before crashing into all the other dominoes put in place.

Connie’s grin widens. “Aw, come on.”

“Three tequila shots!” Porco’s already yelling the order over the bar. You almost want to scream.

The bartender slides over three little shot glasses almost overflowing with tequila, along with a little mini plate of limes that Porco brings closer with his fingers. A pool of dread is forming in real time as Connie leans around you, chest flat on your bicep, to grab his glass and yours, while Porco excitedly lifts both his glass and gaze in your direction.

Connie takes the little shot glass in his hands and lifts it up in a toast. “To the birthday boy!”

Porco says something in a jubilant cry, and for reasons unknown to you in that moment, you inch for your shot and turn to face Connie — bad move. 

You forget to even shot yours as Connie lifts the salt-lined glass to his lips, licking the rim with his eyes glued onto yours. The flat spread of his tongue around the rim is what you zero in on for a moment, shimmering with the salt in a coy manner before he swallows the shot with perfect strategy. He barely even grimaces once its down, a glittering trail of it sliding down from his lip to his chin, and it is only when he wedges the lime between his lips in a grin that you remember your shot.

Porco shudders dramatically behind you. “Ugh, nasty!” And before he can get a word in sideways about your lack of ceremony in taking your shot, you reluctantly rip your eyes off Connie and down your shot, cringing immediately at the vile flavour, even when sucking the ever-living daylights out of the lime once its burning down your throat.

“Not so bad, right?” Connie laughs, his lips so close to your ear that you can almost feel them against you. Guiltily, although you hold no obligation to entertain Porco’s rumoured interest in you, you glance over in Porco’s direction and find, with a twist in your gut, that he’s already shuffled along, loudly laughing with another group of guys further down the bar, each in matching shirts. Must be a boy thing.

“How about that drink I promised you?” he asks, though it sounds more like a statement than a request, but you nod regardless. The bartender drifts back to collect the empty shot glasses and plate and glances up at you and Connie expectantly. 

You feel him shift around you, crossing behind your back to stand on your right side, where Porco had once been situated. His left hand stays on the bar as he does this, until his arm is crossed around your back caging you inwards. 

“Vodka lemonade, please,” you request to the bartender, who has served you this drink three times now and honestly had half the mind to run the order by you anyway. Connie pulls a face, intrigued, before making the same order. “A double,” you add. You’re going to need it.

Connie’s arm tightens around you when the bartender reaches for two new glasses.

“Wasn’t it vodka orange on Halloween?” he murmurs, this time with his lips definitely brushing your ear.

You shudder slightly. “Nobody brought lemonade to the party, I made do.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies. “How much you had tonight?”

“Two singles,” you reply, “and the tequila.”

“Uh-oh, I gotta catch up,” Connie says. His weight is angled on the bar in a way that makes you feel very exposed, despite being so wrapped up in his arm that to an outsider, they wouldn’t be able to guess that you weren’t there together. 

The smile on Connie’s lips softens slightly, not as entertained as it was before, and he lets his eyes wander across your face for a moment until he says, “You look so good.”

Hesitating, you look at him and study the expression on his face. Within it, there are no signs to suggest he is lying — why would he, anyway? You’ve been trying to come up with excuses to justify Connie being here with an arm around you, as if he’s here for any other reason than because he’s interested in you. No surprise that you’ve been unsuccessful in that department. But acknowledging that he is willingly seeking you out after Halloween and more specifically, after that embarrassing shit show in the library, is a dangerous game to play.

Besides. So good — he could have just said “good” and moved on. But he didn’t. And you feel your face burning, your body sweating. Just from a little adverb.

“So do you,” you reply after a prolonged silence. He doesn’t seem too fussed by it, only more endeared. You go to say something more, and so does he, but then the bartender shuffles back with two glasses and thrusts the card machine in front of Connie. He whips out his card with no hesitation and pays for the drinks, arm loosening around you slightly as you reach for your drink and take a deep breath, spinning to survey the dance floor. 

Ymir and Reiner have since moved from the table; you see Reiner with your handbag over his shoulder, leaning against a counter that frames the dance floor with a cocky smile, Ymir by his arm. Both are staring at you with smug expressions. Reiner even throws a thumbs up, and you scowl at him, feeling lost when Connie’s arm unravels from your waist and falls down between you both, his fingers pinching at your thigh gently as he turns his head to the right and says something to Porco.

“I’ll come find you later,” Connie says loudly over the music when he looks back at you. Something hopeful flashes in his eyes — it sounds more like a promise.

Despite his hand still being wrapped around your thigh like a goddamn claw, your thighs tighten and he lets go, eyes widening just slightly enough for you to notice.

There’s only one thing you can blame when you look up at Connie, in a daze, and say, “Okay,” like it’s nothing at all…

It’s the tequila, you think adamantly. Yes. Blame the tequila.

Connie’s smile transforms into a smirk, so wide that his teeth bare and the dimples you noticed in the library blossom on his face. He dips his head with a slight laugh, and then he lifts his fingers under your chin and affectionately flicks, his thumb running softly under your chin until his nail grazes your skin on his release.

“Be good, mama,” he says, and then he turns away, sliding into Porco’s new formation of friends so effortlessly that you have to blink a few times before it registers that he’s moved along.

Your stomach folds in on itself and clenches, and you take a large gulp of vodka lemonade and bravely turn to Reiner and Ymir, who both look entirely too pleased with the progress you’re making. Maybe you’ll be lucky and Connie will stay occupied until you manage to leave without doing anything horrendously out of character like on Halloween…

But you were wrong. So unbelievably wrong.

The hallway to the club toilets is wide and cold, the music reduced in a way that makes walking down its length feel like entering an alternate dimension of sorts. Your head is spinning once you cross the threshold, every drink you’ve had since the shot with Connie and Porco at the bar taking effect. And there have been at least three more since then, not including the criminally delicious Sourz shots you took with Ymir and Reiner, and then another shot you took off Lynne’s stomach — don’t ask, because you’re not willing to talk about how you ended up doing that in front of everybody.

The men and women’s toilets are right next to one another, with the one disabled toilet suspiciously locked and guarded by a fleet of friends who are nursing a sick girl back to health with a glass of water. If you’re not careful, that’ll be you later on. 

You push past them heading for the women’s bathroom, when all of a sudden, a strangely familiar feeling of slender muscle wraps around your waist from behind and within a few seconds, you feel your feet lifting off the floor.

Shock rises up in you like a fountain, a surprised squeal leaving your lips as you watch the women’s bathroom disappear past your arm. Whoever has you bundled up has no intention of helping you on your way to open the floodgates — oh, no. Instead, the arm carries you into the men’s bathroom and around a corner, and you feel your heart rising to your throat, along with another string of surprised noises.

You’re carried past a wall of mirrors lining the sinks, and with a fleeting glance, you spy the shape of someone behind you wearing all black, and you might’ve wrangled around in panic if it weren’t for his buzzed head of hair, the sniggering in your ear. Actually, you might still wrangle around, but for a different reason.

Connie carries you to a stall at the far end that is thankfully clean, and he swiftly shuffles inside and presses you up against the door, sliding the lock in place while he laughs in your face, lips so close to yours they might as well be touching. His hand smothers into your hair affectionately while you stare up at him in bewilderment.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, still trying to process that you are, in fact, in the mens bathroom. While you’re here, you might as well admit to yourself that you expected it to be weirder in here than it is — where was the little trinket lady selling perfumes and key rings by the sinks? Where’s the puking people, the chatter, the laughter? There’s no sense of community in here whatsoever!

“Tour of the mens bathroom, you’re welcome.”

“I’m not allowed in here!”

“So what?” Connie laughs, sounding more infatuated than amused — but you blame any misreading of Connie’s behaviour on the however many gallons of alcohol running wild in your body. Yes, oh it is so easy to blame the alcohol! Connie’s nose gently pushes against yours, and you fight the dreadful urge to kiss him. 

“I needed to pee,” you say weakly.

He nods over his shoulder, “There’s a toilet right there if you can’t hold it in, nenita.”

“I’m not going to pee in front of you!”

“Why?” he laughs. Oh, he’s finding this terribly funny, and you hate that every laugh makes your stomach dip. “You’ve done it before.”

You gape at him. “That’s totally different!” 

“Not really,” he croons, and before you can protest any further, Connie leans forward and presses his mouth against yours. 

You might have swooned, if not for the door pressed against your back and his body trapping you against it. His mouth is firmly pressed to yours, the taste of his last drink strong on your lips — vodka orange, how peculiar. It feels warm, a little clumsy at the worst of times, though you’re not so much looking to fault him on his performance, your mind too busy focusing on his hands cradling your head like a prized possession, the irregular throb between your legs back to torment you.

Connie shifts a thigh between your legs, and with a lurch, your head falls back and crashes against the door rather unsexily. He sniggers again, still peppering kisses to your puckered lips, his mouth wet and shiny as he pulls away and presses a trail from your lips to your cheek, down to the slope under your earlobe down your neck.

Your heart is drumming erratically in your chest, your head spinning for a multitude of reasons. If you weren’t currently sandwiched in a toilet cubicle, you’d be incredibly turned on — actually, where you are is inconsequential. You know for a fact that you’re wet and it’s Connie Springer’s fault. 

Your body sags slightly, each kiss pressed to your neck burning you like a naked flame. Connie’s hands find themselves all the way down by your thighs, pulling up the useless little skirt you’ve decided to wear for the special occasion of Porco’s birthday. Not for any reason in particular, of course, other than because you looked exceptional in it.

Connie’s teeth push against your skin as he grins, fiddling his fingers near your panties. With a skirt that short, he wonders why you bothered in the first place. He wiggles a finger up to your crotch and laughs to himself when it’s wet.

“I love these short skirts, mama,” he says quietly.

Of course, Halloween’s short skirt had been solely part of the costume, but today, there’s no real excuse for just how short is actually is.

“This Pock’s birthday present?”

You whimper, but only because Connie moves his fingers away and presses his hips up against you. His nose prods your earlobe, and you feel just how hard he actually is beneath his trousers now that he’s aligning his chest with yours. 

“No,” you say rather defensively. “It’s for me.”

“Oh, really?” he asks.

“And for you, I guess,” you hurry to add. The tequila’s talking again! 

Connie hums along to what you’re saying with keen interest, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw before he moves his lips against yours, ghosting them across your mouth while his eyes find yours in the dark.

“One of these days, I swear I’ll fuck you on something comfortable,” he tells you, and you pause for a second until it registers. His mouth curves, “just not today.”

With that, Connie lifts up your skirt and tugs down your panties, all while you stand there with your jaw hanging low, eyes wide in the thrilled rush. For a second, your hands drop to his waistline, shyly toying with his buttons.

“I think it’s real cute that you’re shy today,” Connie starts, already spreading your pussy apart with his fingers. His body loosens up when you ping the button free from the front of his trousers, as though letting you undress him. 

“I’m not shy,” you protest. You were shy before, but now you have the foolish guidance of alcohol in your system, the only reason you’re not slutting it out for him the way you were in the utility cupboard is because you can now see him, and because you’re in a club bathroom. 

On Halloween, the darkness made you more confident than it should’ve; now, you can see Connie in the very dim bathroom light, very much real, very much grinning hopefully while he stabs a finger into you, watching with joy as you gasp in pleasure.

“Shy girl,” he murmurs against your mouth. 

Although he’s unbearably close, you manage to pull down his trousers and fist at the hem of his underwear, eager to prove otherwise. Turns out you didn’t need the Halloween darkness to feel confident; all it took was a little comment from the man you’ve been thinking about fucking you for over a week, and his finger up your cunt.

Your mouth hangs open when he lazily pushes his finger in and out of you, adding a second after a few minutes and pressing a kiss or two to the corner of your mouth. Connie hears you let out a breathless whimper, his fingers curling.

“Feels just how I remembered,” Connie mutters.

“God.”

It takes real effort not to moan out loud in the cubicle. Your hands fly around his wrist, hidden between your thighs comfortably, and you keep your eyes closed as you ever so slightly grind your hips backwards and forwards. Without even opening them, you know that Connie is looking at you darkly, his gaze so heavy you can feel it in the same realm his fingers are — his looks are sexual all on their own, you’re amazed to discover. 

You bite your lip, braving a look at the man in front of you. Connie’s cool and collected, his expression as impassive as his Ghostface mask was, and by some twist of fate, you feel no embarrassment or urge to hide away when you look into his eyes, those little shadowed beads staring almost boredly into you. Though, you know he’s far from bored — his dick is so hard between his legs it looks painful, and you glance down at it, reaching for it with your hands.

Connie flinches when your hand comes into contact with his cock, the warmth of your fingers unexpected as you run one finger over the tip, your other hand wrapping around the base of his dick. This you never had to do on Halloween; back then, he’d just ushered you in the cupboard and bent you over. Must have been rock solid under his cloak, brushing the tip against your panties until you all but begged him to fuck you.

“Not so shy now,” you sneer at him.

Connie kisses you with a grin. “You’re so brave for touching my cock, honey. Nice job.”

“Thanks.” 

His mouth wanders again, but your confidence is coming back in a giant wave; not long after Connie’s got his fingers pruned with your wetness, a cocky and drunken smile on his face, you reluctantly force his hand away and watch the smile slide off his face when he looks up at you in alert.

Whatever he is about to say is cut short when you sink to your haunches and find Connie’s dick level with your eyes. Immediately, Connie’s hands rise from below to above, smoothing around your head and cheeks as you assess the mission stood tall before you. 

There’s no time wasted on stalling; Connie can’t help but let out a quiet moan when you take more than half of his dick into your mouth at once.

In your head, you keep telling yourself to watch him, gauge every reaction until they’re things to get more drunk off, but even after a minute or so of watching him, your lips tight around his cock, you feel an embarrassed flush work its way from your cheeks to your neck. 

The little flat circle of light is behind his head, his face coloured with shadows, and you can only see his eyes due to the glint of them flashing in the dark. You find, unsurprisingly, that it excites you — looking for the face you know is there somewhere, uncertain of what he looks like as you suck his cock.

Connie’s hands tighten slightly around your head, his legs widening apart as he stables his swaying body. His thumb brushes across your neck before curling up to your lower lip, curled against his dick, and he hisses, so quiet that you almost miss it. Then, he says something in Spanish and pulls your face closer to him. 

You feel his dick brush the back of your throat right as you gag with the length of him, your thumb tightly wrapped in your palm. Not that it works — each time he pulls out and thrusts his dick back in, you retch, the reflex hitting, which only makes him moan harder.

“Shit, mama,” he groans, voice a little strained but far from tuckered out. You glance up around tears; his head is leaning to the side, his cheek practically glued to his shoulder, and a glint of saliva on his lip tells you he’s wide-mouthed, overcome with pleasure. 

You didn’t suck his cock on Halloween, there’d been no time for it. His eyes flicker down and find yours, the light hitting him just right, and you whimper around him, a hand cautiously coming to the base of his dick to save you from another round of gagging.

“Gotta say,” he rasps, grunting when he jerks his hips back against your mouth. This time, you adjust; your tongue is flat against his shaft, running along the vein bolting across it while he staggers and falls still. His head straightens as he looks down at you appreciatively, “I love looking at you like this.”

You hum. He can interpret it however he likes, which you suppose he does because he grins, chuckles to himself in satisfaction, and gently slaps his hand across your cheek. It barely hurts, but you put on a show to whine around him and wrinkle your nose, which he seems to like. He moans loudly, running his thumb across every feature he can reach without accidentally removing himself from the wet hole he’s buried inside. 

“I liked my shy girl, but you just look so fucking pretty when you’re actin’ like a slut.”

Your brows raise, though you can’t say you didn’t expect that. After all, you’d dug out your sluttiest skirt from first year just for Porco’s birthday, all whilst trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t for him because you knew he’d be there. The affectionate way he’d called you “slut” on Halloween echoes in your mind. You knew nothing about Connie, and yet you’d read him like a book.

You feel your body inching slowly back against the door, and you wouldn’t be shocked if your shoes were visible underneath the stall door from the outside. It had been the most trivial thing about getting on your haunches to suck Connie’s cock, but all of a sudden, you’re reminded of where the fuck you are and your heart stammers, your hand loosening around his dick.

Fortunately, Connie doesn’t misread this. Instead, he pulls himself out from your throat with a quiet curse and pulls at your hands so you’re up on your feet. Slightly off balance, you wobble in his arms as he presses a wet kiss to your mouth, his hands wrenching around your thighs and lifting you up off the floor once more. 

You snake your arms around his neck, hands brushing against the bleached fuzz atop his head, while Connie reaches between his legs for his dick and slides it until he finds the wet folds of your pussy. You moan into his mouth happily, the tip of his dick sliding between you, lapping up all your juice like a tongue. 

With one arm wrapped underneath you, holding you up around his waist, he quickly reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulls out a glossy packet, a condom he took out of his wallet in a hurry whilst watching you set off in the direction of the bathrooms.

At least one of you is responsible — you’d forgotten about it completely, and you get comfortable and stable on his hip while he tears open the packet with his teeth and folds it over his cock.

“You came prepared,” you say to fill the silence.

He laughs through his nose. “We both knew it was gonna happen.”

Did you? Hoped for, maybe — knew, not so much. 

“We didn’t use it last time,” you point out.

“Rookie mistake. Won’t happen again, angel.”

Rookie — you almost laugh. 

You run a finger across the nape of his neck where his buzzed hair ends, watching him shudder as he makes sure the condoms on properly, “Just this once, then.”

Connie’s eyes flicker up to yours. “Oh, you’re precious.”

Then, now that his tip is back pressed against your entrance, he lines himself up with a grin and pushes you down. Your legs are tight around his waist, no doubt strangling him, but now that you’ve taken a seat on his dick, your jaw slackens even wider and you forget where you are again, moaning so loud that Connie has to come forward and kiss you just to keep you quiet.

He laughs into your mouth, wildly entertained by the fit of your bodies, his body relaxing now that his dick is back somewhere wet and warm. Like Halloween, you’re tight, which feels miraculous considering how many times your fingers and toys have been shoved up there since that night, trying to find an alternative to having to seek him out, hoping to forget he existed and simply replace his legacy with something inanimate. Failure was met. Here you are.

You’ve never been fucked against a toilet stall door before, and you find with slight shyness that you don’t quite know what to do. Keeping your eyes on his and arms wrapped around his neck, you struggle to drag yourself up and down off his dick, though he seems very content with doing all the work himself, and you quickly let him.

Connie pistons his hips back up into you, going so deep that a tight wheeze leaves your mouth straight into his. He remains as cocky as he has been all night, the corners of his mouth curved upwards as he watches you with a narrowed gaze. 

The stall door rattles dangerously behind your back, the plastic rattle filling your ears as Connie picks you back up higher, his mouth flushed against your own to quell your pleasured noises. What he wouldn’t give to actually hear them one day.

Your cunt clenches around him and he groans, tongue flicking up past yours as he rearranges you on his cock. Your chest brushes up against his; how he desperately wants to rip off your top and shove your tits in his face, to leave little bites across your skin like a brand. Forgetful, you reach an arm up and grab the top of the stall door, taking more of him inside of you as a result. Not like there’s anyone to see you, anyway; unlike the joyful hubbub of the women’s bathroom, the men seem careless of coming in here tonight. 

Your legs tighten around Connie as he daggers himself into you, winding the knot in your stomach tighter until it feels as hard as his dick is up your snatch. He hisses, his arms buckling as your back slides precariously down the door — but he doesn’t want to let up. No, you’ve both been daydreaming about each other enough times to know that this simply isn’t enough.

Connie’s just about to hike your leg higher up his body when a cacophony of laughter sounds across the bathroom, and in an instant, your hand snatches off the top of the door and he scurries to catch you so you don’t fall to the floor with a fright. Your eyes are blown wide with the horrifying realisation that people are coming in — you spoke too soon.

Connie pulls himself out of you, clamping a hand over your mouth as you cry out, the tight fit of his dick felt now he’s gone. Then, he spins you around and is left with no other choice than to bend you over the toilet. The lid is closed and you cock a leg up on it instinctively, your hands clawing at the shelf above the tank. 

There’s simply no time to spend being a snob about the setting. It’s a downgrade from the utility cupboard, but considering that was where you first let Connie fuck you, you can’t be too disgraced by your second encounter being in a toilet cubicle. 

Third times a charm, right?

Connie bends you over, his hand sliding from your mouth and sliding to your ass. Both of his hands hold you in place while he fumbles back for your hole, and once he finds it, quivering in anticipation, he plunges back inside, glancing at you as you very quietly let out a breath once his dick sinks inside. 

Like old times, he fits in there like a man made for it, the stretched burn of his dick gone now that you’re once again familiar with the shape and size of him.

Suddenly aware of the people using the bathroom, you bite your inner cheek desperately, hoping to remain as quiet as you possibly can when a man like Connie is fucking himself into you. A flame of arousal burns inside of you as the voices grow louder, more rambunctious. Connie clenches his teeth and smiles, trying not to laugh when the voices begin to talk, oblivious to you both.

You can’t stop. Not now.

You feel him settling in your lower stomach, your ass slamming down on his skin with a slap  so sudden it makes you toss your head back to look at Connie with wide eyes. His smile splits apart, silent laughter falling from his mouth as he stills in place. 

Nobody seems to have heard — if they have, they are minding their own business. 

Connie shakes his head at you slightly as if in assurance, and you clamp your teeth down so hard on your bottom lip that Connie has to nod his head up to force you to look away. Your eyes return to the peeling paint of the walls, trying so eagerly to keep the knot tightening in your tummy from unravelling in ropes of white. 

Connie shifts a hand up to his abdomen, and you feel his knuckles against your ass to keep the sound of slapping skin from rippling out across the bathroom. Whoever’s here is loyally hanging around the urinals on the parallel side, a few others talking over the sound of running sinks. 

Connie bristles when you clench harder around him, desperate to keep your mind and body in tact. Your leg shifts, letting Connie sink deeper ever so slightly, the tip of him pushing past an untouched boundary.

God, you want to scream; yell, cry, moan out and let everyone know. But you don’t. Your mouth hangs open and a silent scream comes out, your face twisted up in pleasure as Connie quickens. His dick spears into you like a machine, so perfect in rhythm that you’re amazed you’re able to stay so quiet. You do whimper, however, so quietly that the people outside would have to be pushed up against the door to hear it. 

You knock your head back, braving a look over your shoulder at Connie, keeping your cool when you find his eyes are already looking at you, glazed over in a kind of hunger made visible now you’ve turned around to face the fall of the light. A little bead of sweat lines his neck, and you crane even further to look at your ass bouncing off his hand. His other hand creeps around from your waist between your legs, where his thumb and finger flick and twist at your clit. 

You twitch violently, the build up of tension so strong that you can feel a heat rising up from the balls of your heel up your legs. You look at Connie pleadingly, an unspoken message sent from your eyes into his. Connie’s brows raise as he pounds into you silently, playing dumb. But when you accidentally whimper a little louder than expected, he can’t hide his amusement. 

Of course, he knows you’re close. If your shaking legs weren’t enough indication, then the way your cunt is clutching him like a vice has given you away. Luckily for you, he’s not absurdly far behind — you feel better than any cunt he’s been in before, and he doesn’t think it would take much for him to coax one out of him whenever you were involved. 

Connie squeezes your ass with his hand, abandoning his safety assurance of remaining quiet, and now that the taps are back on and the music has picked up a bit outside, Connie speeds up relentlessly.

Your hands slide from the edge of the shelf up to the wall, and with nothing to grab, you slump ungracefully and do your best to keep upright. His cock burrows in deeper, tip prodding against a spot that makes you carelessly moan out loud, but that doesn’t matter anymore. 

You can hear the sound of your ass slapping against him as your bodies connect, his grunts more pronounced now he can afford a bit of noise with the taps.

He doesn’t even care if they can hear, as long as it’s not a bouncer determined to kick you both out of the club. Connie doesn’t even spare more than a second entertaining the idea before he falls back into the wickedly cosmic feeling of your pussy around his dick. He would happily put himself up here every day of the week if he had the chance.

Meanwhile, you feel a bubbling sort of pain in your lower stomach, the knot unwinding slightly until your legs shake uncontrollably, a white rush of heat blinding you as you give way. Thankfully, Connie catches you and holds you up, feeling your pussy heat up with pleasure as you cry out and cum around his cock. You immediately silence yourself and clamp your mouth closed, but the taps silence outside and you fear the damage may have already been done.

Connie hasn’t caught the silence of the taps yet. He pulls your hips back so that he continues to push his tip against your spongey walls, feeling the ribbons of your cum dribbling down both of your legs, down the length of his fingers as he toys with your clit like a button. His chest rises and falls heavily as he mumbles to himself, like trying to contain a whispery moan, until he can’t any longer. 

Connie spears in and out, and in, and out, your pussy clenching up sensitively as he finishes his tempo and slams back into you with a final drag. He bows his head, groaning as he cums, the condom filling with his seed warmly. He remains inside of you for a moment, shuddering through the tremors of your orgasms, eyes closed tightly as he twitches. You flinch as his dick jolts inside of you, and tossing your head over your shoulder tiredly, you wait patiently until he pulls his eyes open and finds your gaze eagerly looking at him.

He laughs breathily, ears trained outside the door. For a second, it’s clear, until both of you hear a very downtrodden, “What the fuck” from someone at the sinks, and he has to reign in his laughter in an effort to gaslight the stranger into thinking they imagined the sound of you both cumming.

Ordinarily, you would have been ablaze with disgraced horror at the thought of someone hearing you being fucked. But now, with Connie’s endeared gaze on your face, his smile the kind of smile you’d want to do sinful things for, you find yourself shaking with bemused laughter. 

Of course, it’s the tequila. Totally the tequila, and not because you secretly enjoy being a slut for Connie Springer.

“Still a slut?” you ask. God, you almost sound desperate for him to say yes!

Connie sniggers, running his hands up your arched back. “Biggest slut I ever saw.” Your smile widens happily. “Look at you grinning about it.”

“Sorry,” you say earnestly, tightening around him as you try to heave yourself up. Connie hisses unexpectedly and pulls himself out of you. He reaches to the side and unravels a few squares of tissue, using it to kindly wipe between your legs. You stop him midway, “I’ll take that pee now. Turn, please.”

Connie laughs and throws his hands up in surrender, spinning on his feet after grabbing more tissue to dry the slick juices off his dick. You take pleasure in staring at the shaped curve of his ass as he does this, half-disappointed when he reaches for his underwear and trousers and pulls them up over whatever goods you were marvelling over.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Connie says offhandedly.

“Don’t care,” you tell him, wiping up and flushing. You did a valiant job in keeping all that in as he was fucking you — well, you wouldn’t want a repeat of squirting down his Halloween costume, would you? “We’re not there yet.”

He looks over his shoulder as the toilet flushes. “How ‘bout you let me take you out sometime so we can get there?”

You smile at him, “You want to see me pee that badly?”

Connie rolls his eyes, turning his body so he’s facing you as he pulls you into his arms. “Not what I meant.”

“I know,” you laugh, unable to help yourself when you lean forwards to peck his lips. His eyes widen happily, the dimples deepening on his cheeks. “Ask me in the morning.”

“How? You blocked me, remember,” Connie says, sighing with an emphasised sadness. He locks his hands behind your back, caging you against his chest.

“I did no such thing.”

“If I look right now, I’ll be unblocked, then?”

You nod, nose brushing his. “You will.” You unblocked him out of morbid curiosity before heading to the club with Ymir and Reiner. 

Connie hums loudly, brushing a kiss over your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw. His arms squeeze slightly around you before he gives in and releases you, reaching round to slide the lock free. He then pulls it open, wedging next to you before creating a gap for you to leave first, like a true gentleman.

“I can’t go out first,” you tell him. “What if someone sees me?”

“We’ll walk together,” Connie offers, already ushering you out of the cubicle. As you step out, he hurriedly fiddles with the back of your skirt, plucking it out from where its caught in your underwear and he follows your quick steps to the sinks. 

Despite your anxious desperation to flee the scene without being caught, you stop by the sinks and press the tap on, coating your hands in a generous amount of soap before glancing at him.

“You, too.”

He sniggers. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know we just fucked in a toilet cubicle, but there are still germs in here,” you fuss, scrubbing your hands. “I touched the wall.”

“I only touched you.”

“Scrub.”

He slathers his hands in soap and rinses them under the water, only looking up in the mirror when someone steps into the bathroom behind you and starts with a noise of surprise once he sees you bent over the sinks.

“Um,” the guy starts. When you look up, you freeze.

“She’s drunk,” Connie says smoothly, then gestures to the cubicle you were just in, “don’t go in that one. Vomit everywhere. Poor thing.”

“Oh, okay,” the guy replies, shrugging before stalking off to the urinals. Men are really such simple creatures. 

You watch him go in the mirror and look at Connie questioningly. He shrugs. He leans over to the paper towels and pulls two out, handing you one. Then, once your hands are dry, his arm returns around your waist for the mutual walk of shame out of the bathroom and back into the club.

Connie says, his mouth pressed to your head, “So where’d you wanna go?”

Your heart thumps nervously. “No preference…”

He tuts. “Think on it.” You will, thanks for the pointer. 

Connie’s arm tightens around you in a way you can’t explain once you round the corner and step back out into the wide hallway, which fortunately seems less busy than it was when you last saw it — with the not so fortunate exception of Porco stopping in his tracks a few feet away from your both, his eyes jumping between Connie’s arm and your face wildly before his mouth hangs open dumbly.

Connie smiles normally. “Hey, big boy. You alright?”

Your body is tense with nerves — not even a day ago, you were being told of Porco’s rumoured crush on you; not even a few hours ago, he’d had his arm around you at the bar. Your feet shuffle uncomfortably, guilt rising, until you watch Porco’s shock expression morph into one of morbid curiosity, his brows arched in and upwards while a shocked smile takes shape on his lips.

Thankfully, he looks amused, nowhere close to annoyed or hurt like you had expected. He laughs, at first slightly and then uncontrollably, before he holds his stomach and steps closer with the bathroom in mind.

“What the fuck,” he wheezes out. You’re just happy he looks in good spirits, all things considering. It’s one thing for the girl you might like to be fucking someone else, and another thing for that someone else to be one of your best friends. “I’m good. Are you guys good?”

Connie flashes Porco a winning smile, one that makes it look like he has won a great victory whilst simultaneously making you feel like you’re missing something.

“I think so,” Connie replies, sparing you a glance out the corner of his eye.

You gulp, trying to find the words to say.

“You don’t need to explain,” Porco urges quickly, seeming far too entertained than normal. He walks up to you both and steps around you, “Literally.”

He tosses you a warm and genuine smile before vanishing around the corner, and only after he’s gone do you look back at Connie, torn between being relieved and ashamed.

“We have his blessing,” Connie says with a firm nod, and you hold back a scoff and roll your eyes, pinching the skin of his wrist.

“You’re so mean. It’s his birthday!”

“I know. That’s why his blessing is so important.”

You shake your head, ignoring his laughter in your ear as you try to march off back into the club, his arm still glued around your waist like a permanent attachment. You even find that with every step back into the buzz of the club, the expected drilled shame of being fucked by Connie never comes. Instead, you only feel a content glow widening in your chest, painting your skin, the promise of a date hanging over your head like floating stars and clouds. 

Thank you tequila, you think. And, in a way, thank you Eren, for the Halloween party that led Ghostface between your legs and Connie Springer into your life.

━━━━━★. *· @gorehsk @arminarlertssword & @madstronaut for simply being the reason why i wrote this sequel

[daenysx]

requesting for one 1k celebration (ik it's late and it's totally okay if you decide not to write it, congratulations on it anyway!!) but rockstar!reader with either fan or bodyguard!james??? idk, take this any way you want, i'm giving you the wheel

i loved this request so much and i tried my best so hopefully you'll enjoy!! thank you for requesting, love u♡ you can send james potter requests if you have one!

bodyguard!james potter x rockstar!reader, you and james can't keep your feelings secret anymore

brave enough

you like the hotel room but it's boring to spend all night in.

the concert was quite satisfying and it went smoothly. you know you're getting more and more popular each day; followed by paparazzi almost everywhere, interviewed by important channels that people talk about on twitter, having fan accounts on instagram. you feel a sense of joy and fear at the same time. it's scary to be famous but you enjoy sharing your songs with people, you like the way their eyes shine when you start singing. most of the time you think it's worth being a bit scared.

this is where your security team joins the picture. you are being protected by a team of bodyguards, they are silent but effective. sometimes you feel too important when you walk into a crowded space with the team covering everywhere but most of the time it doesn't feel normal. it feels so silly to be needing protection unlike a normal person. you should be past that. you should realize your position in this world as a famous rockstar and probably should be grateful to these people who never let anything bad happen to you.

shaking redundant thoughts away, you put on some comfy clothes, a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt. you only take your wallet and your phone before leaving the room, airpods tucked nicely in your pocket just in case. you check how you look on the mirror at the bathroom and the sight is just like you imagined, exhaustedly happy with a crooked smile and tired eyes.

you knock on the door across yours. you are sure james will open it in two seconds. he does that exactly but the sight in front of you makes you look at your shoes shyly without thinking- he's shirtless.

"hey." james says, casually. "something wrong?"

he's always asking that firstly, the head of your security team. he's huge, all muscles and tall, you have seen too many comments on instagram saying how hot he looks. well, he does. he really is good looking, you'd have to be blind to not realize it. he has lovely eyes and a big smile when he tries to be comforting, huge hands and a perfect chest. james potter is someone's dream guy, you are sure of it.

"no." you say, eyes still looking anywhere but him. "nothing, i just- i got bored, thought maybe we could go out. you can put on your shirt- if you want, i can wait."

james takes a step back to let you in. you follow his lead, the room smells like his cologne and hints of aftershave. it's making your legs shaky, you sit on the couch as he takes his shirt from the bed and puts it on.

"you wanna go out?" he asks with a gentle voice. things with him has always been this sweet, not like a regular boss-employee relationship. you know he cares about you, he's like a friend who's always been around, who you can always fall in love with if you ever take that dangerous step.

you nod at his question. he puts on his glasses and looks like himself again. "i wanted some fresh air, and i'm a bit hungry. maybe we can get chicken nuggets from the place in the corner?"

james thinks about it for a moment. it feels weird, like you're asking for his permission to go out but it's far from the truth. you need james's opinion before leaving a secure place because he knows the best. he knows the danger, the press, the paparazzi. if he says you should stay in, you probably should listen. still, you're hoping he'll say yes to going out with you.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart." he says. "i think we should stay at the hotel tonight."

"yeah?" you ask. you can't help but feel a bit upset, you are tired because of your busy schedule but you want to hang out sometimes. you want to be anywhere you want any time without worrying. it would be so nice, to be out with james, just eating and drinking. you could tell him all about your new album. you could tell stupid jokes to him, you could make him smile. now that your voice sounds sad, james flinches just a little bit. he comes to your side with a few short steps.

"i'm really sorry." he says. he kneels in front of you to make an eye contact. "you just had a show and i think it's better if we stay out of sight for now."

you nod, give him a smile to let him know it's okay. "i'll go back to my room then. you should get some rest, you've been working all night long."

you stand up to go but james is quicker. he holds your hand, your fingers go lax in his palm. he is on his feet again, looking at you with a promising pair of eyes.

"do you want to stay here? we can order chicken nuggets and sit in the balcony."

the idea is tempting but you really don't want to waste james's resting time. "it's okay, james. you probably should get some sleep before we leave tomorrow morning."

"sweetheart." he says, his voice is so soft you could crumble under it. "please. would you like to spend some time with me?"

you nod this time, how could you resist his sweet voice? james orders take out as you go sit in the balcony, the night air is chill and you can see a few stars. it's quiet and nice, you close your eyes to the breeze you feel on your skin.

james comes in, wearing a hoodie. he has one in his hand too, he gives you the hoodie, hoping you'll accept. you take it, thanking him silently before wearing it. he sits next to you, comfortable silence fills the air as you wait for food. you look so pretty in the hoodie, james almost doesn't hear the knock on the door. he is quick to leave the balcony, shaking his head as if he's trying to stop thinking something he shouldn't.

he comes back with the food and two huge paper cups of iced tea. you help him settle the paper bags down on the little table, he ordered nuggets and different kinds of sauces he's sure you like. you take a sip from your drink, coldness of it gives a relief to your throat. james does the same, you both start eating silently.

maybe it'd be uncomfortable if it were someone else, just sitting and eating without saying much but this is james you are here with. no matter what the situation is his presence is always comforting and warm. you adore how cool he is, how kind.

"so," you start, breaking the silence. "did you enjoy the show tonight?"

james smiles. "of course i did. you know your way around that stage, you know? i always enjoy seeing you sing."

"thank you, james." you say with a soft voice.

"you are-" he starts, "you really are something else."

you stop drinking for a second to see his eyes. he sounds like he's confessing a big secret but it's not the first time james has complimented you, so you are not sure why his voice comes out like that.

"jamie?"

"everything stops when you sing, when you dance on the stage like you always do. i see people's faces, how they admire you, how they follow your every step. my face must look like theirs i believe, just- like your biggest fan."

you give him the loveliest smile you can manage, how dare he says such a beautiful thing? he smiles back, it's full of admiration and pride. he's proud of you, you realize. he's always been around, always been there for you. he's been fierce and brave, faced every little thing that bothered you like the strong man he is. your chest fills with something you can't identify.

"well," you wander around the words. "you're my favorite fan and that puts you in the most special place."

james chuckles, you are losing your mind. you forget everything for a second, who you are and who he is.

"james, i-"

"angel." he says. "it's okay."

he has no right to do that. he has no right to make your heart beat faster and say that it's okay. you feel like you should do something, say something to end this misery. you both stop eating, the wind passes through your hair. james still looks at you with an undeniable affection.

"i'm not trying to mess with your mind, i promise." he says quietly. "but i'm not strong enough to keep everything in me, i just- i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable."

"no, no, of course you're not." you say quickly. "it's just- i don't want to be delusional, james. i don't want to imagine things."

james reaches for your hand. the short distance between you disappears as he leans for your cheek. he gives you the softest kiss, you can't breathe when he does that. he leans back into his chair, your hand still in his hand.

"you're not imagining things." he says. "i don't know if i should be brave enough to tell you something i can't take back."

your fingers move a bit, but james doesn't let go. "you should." you say, firmer than ever. "you should be brave. i believe it's in the job description."

he pulls your hand to himself, makes you stand up and fall back to his lap. your heartbeat goes faster, he holds you gently.

"i'm mad for you." he says, looking deep into your eyes. "i'm willing to take any risk if you want me to. i'd do anything to protect you, and it's not only because i'm your bodyguard."

you settle down on his lap, holding one of his hands and stroking his knuckles. "can i kiss you?" you ask, not too shy but a bit hesitant.

james nods, and he cups your cheek. his thumb rubs your jawline, you cover his lips with yours. the kiss is better than you imagine, he is the only thing in your mind. suddenly, you feel how dangerous he is; you can write hundreds of songs about this kiss, about james. he has the power to invade your mind and he isn't shy about it. he is a fierce kisser, uses his hands and lips in a way that makes you melt.

his tongue meets yours and it's the best thing at that moment. james sucks your bottom lip, he doesn't break the kiss until you pull yourself back. you press small kisses on his cheeks, his sharp jaw is prominent under your mouth. he breathes faster, the tip of his nose rubbing on your cheek.

"what if someone sees us here?" you ask, playfully. his hand around your thigh tightens.

he pushes your hair back. "it's too dark here for anyone to recognize us. do you think i'd put you in that kind of situation?"

his tone matches yours. "i think you'll have to put me in that kind of situation eventually." you say, kissing his lips again. "i'm not worried, james. i like you too much to be worried."

"i'll protect you." he says, so serious and so lovely. "i won't let anybody hurt you."

"i know, baby." you say, and james visibly loves the word baby coming out of your lips.

he can only kiss you more after that. the night is long and it's full of promises, you are both so tired to think. it will be okay, you know that. it should be okay when he kisses you like this, like you are the most precious thing in the world. you kiss him back, trying to be brave enough for his heart. for now, it's good. james will make sure it'll be better.

[jaysswlvrr]

Academic Rivals: An Unlocked Drawer| p.sh rival!reader x rival!sunghoon

request>> its a bit long but tysm(!) to the anon who sent it, i was planning on smth for hoon but tysm for the idea<3

authors note>> ik i haven't posted in a while but somehow we gained another 100 followers overnight?! guys tysmmmm<3

minors do NOT read or interact (please)

"your grades have dropped drastically, I thought you were better than that", your teacher scolded. "I really want to help you so" you looked curious as your teacher stopped talking. "I got you a tutor, I think you know him". She walks toward the door revealing the presence of one and only,

Park Sunghoon.

He had a big smirk, entering the room and facing you. Your teacher thins her lips in a reassuring smile,"Ill leave you two to it then", she spoke, gathering her books and leaving before you could stop her. You look up at him, a pout of hatred and anger plastered on your face. You lightly roll your eyes as he bends to your height. Telling him your address with a quick 'dont be late', before turning on your heel to leave.

And thats how you got here now, bored and revising things that you never even knew existed. He stops talking, causing you to look up at him as if you knew he was going to say something off-topic. "Got any snacks?" he asks, smiling as you reluctantly stand up, letting out an annoyed sigh. You walk out of the room, unintentionally swaying your hips.

Sunghoon's gaze moves from your back to your ass. Your small shorts barely cover any of your flesh. He bites his lip, forcing his eyes away from the sight. You on the other hand are struggling to get the snacks for the top shelf (lmao) 'how did they even get there?' you think. You can't find anything decent to give him, so you make popcorn instead.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon looked around your room. It was filled with small pictures of yourself on beaches and small revision notes. His eyes were slowly drawn to small drawers, the middle draw with a black silk bow on the handle. It had a lock, but when he realised it was slightly opened, it made him more curious as to what was inside. Maybe it was some weird cringy 'dear diary' or childish photos.

In fact, it was the opposite. It was full of different sex toys, ones he never expected you would own, or even know of.

Instead of being disgusted, he bit his lip, never knowing that you were this filthy and dirty. He loved this, so many lewd thoughts ran through his mind. Imagining how you would twitch around the toy, letting out small moans and whines, oh he wanted you so bad.

He grabbed a small vibrator turning it on and seeing the small bud move made him smirk. There was also a small matching remote, a setting to speed and slow down the vibrations. He grabbed it and put it in his pocket, waiting for you to return.

You finally enter the room, your shirt exposing your waist as you were reaching for the top cupboard earlier. You place the popcorn in front of him and sit down. "There were no snacks so I had to make popcorn"

"Try it for me, please?" you watch as he takes one in his hand. His eyes never leave yours ashe puts the piece in his mouth. You gulp down the horniness building up in you, ignoring the wet patch forming between your legs. "Its alright" he answers, breaking your thoughts.

You turn back to your book but his deep voice stops you. "I think you forgot to lock something" he starts as your eyes connect to his, not understanding him. He pushes the chair back on its wheels, pulling the draw with him.

Your eyes widen as he reveals what you had thoughtg you locked before. You start to stutter an explanation but before you could protest, he pulls you towards him. "youre just as filthy as i thought you were" his breath blows on your face and he lets out a breathy laugh as you dont respond. "Couldve just asked me to fuck you" he taunts in your ear, his breath tickling down your neck.

"You want a cock don't you?" He mocks you, pouting as you slightly nod. "Get up for me then" you immediately get up like an eager puppy, ready to do anything for him. You watch as he pulls down his jeans, revealing his revealing his pink, leaking cock.

And look at you know, all on top of him and trembling as the small vibrator sped up again. "C'mon then, next question," he smiles as you still try your best to focus. You have sweat running down your neck, back, forehead, everywhere possible. "I-is is 52?"

He chuckles softly, "wrong baby" he coos. You start to sob again. "Sunghoon, t-too much!" he laughs as your body jolts to him adding the speed. "c'mon next one". This question was way more easier so you finally (estupido) got it right. "please let me cum sunghoon- please!" You can feel him thrusting up into you, it feels overwhelming but its just so good.

You can feel his dick hitting so high into those spongey spots no one has hit before. Even when you looked down, you could see the bulge in your belly which only made you moan more. "Hold it in a little longer baby" but you couldnt hear him anymore. Your eyes were at the back of your head at every thrust he did.

"Please sunghoon!" he sighs loudly, finally giving you a reassuring hum. As if you could hold it any longer, you feel your orgasm rain over you. Both yours and sunghoons liquid mix down your thighs.

♡

small aftercare~

Your in the bath with sunghoon bent over to your level and scrubbing your sore plush body. "Want to do this again?" your eyes grow bigger in plead but he just giggles lightly.

"Sure"

took me so long, i apologise

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: mario mini

Debut: Super Mario 64 DS

Today's Weird Mario Entity is a Weird Mario Head! Mario is the least weird Mario Entity there could possibly be, but there is an easy solution, and that is to remove his body, and hide it from him. Everyone loves when that happens! His floating head in Super Mario 64 is iconic and nostalgic. His floating head in Mario Teaches Typing is oh so funny. But I think my personal favorite Mario Head is mario mini! What is mario mini? I won't tell you, because I don't know!

Here is one sighting! This is the Tox Box Shuffle minigame. Yoshi is under one of the Tox Boxes, and you need to watch to find out which one! But you are not the only one watching. Oh, no. Mario Head is watching. And he is SO watching! There on the top screen, gazing down at the bottom, watching the boxes swap around. Is this divine intervention? A heavenly Mario Head here to advise you? Two heads are better than one, and a Mario head is worth at least four standard human heads!

He's just here to watch, though. Maybe he's fascinated by the Tox Boxes here using their original design instead of the one this very game gave them. He will not help you. Help? From Super Mario? When his dear friend is in peril? No way! You are on your own, and he will react according to your choices. If you find Yoshi, he will be so happy! He will laugh, using the voice clip normally heard when his tuckus is set ablaze. And if you get too many wrong, he will act like he got knocked out, and fly back in a daze! Maybe this minigame is his new torso, and you're toying with his vitals!

He behaves pretty much the same in Boom Box, the game where you must match the sounds made by chests. He also reacts in delight upon hearing each sound! He recognizes them! Like a dog seeing a squirrel on TV! There is a lot here for him to be interested in seeing, I think. A fascinatingly still image of Yoshi opening a chest on the shore, with a wooden chair submerged behind him, and to top it all off, the chest isn't even using the same design as the actual interactable ones. I'd expect nothing less from a mario mini product!

So now we ask, what IS mario mini? Mario's head is just in front of what seem to be a bunch of screens displaying its name, like he's floating in a department store where every TV is synced, showing the same commercial on loop. If these were TVs, they would certainly be mini. But maybe this is a view from INSIDE the mario mini? Imagine it. A revolutionary VR experience where you can look at a bunch of screens that say mario mini on them. How much would you pay to do that? J-just curious!

The "mini" is probably because these are minigames. But then, why these two? I guess they were the ones they had the least ideas of what to put on the top screen for! To me, mario mini above all else reminds me of Pokemon Mini, like a tiny Mario game you can put in your pocket and take with you instead of taking a much better Mario game with you. But we will never know the truth of mario mini! Mario Head will never tell us, and we would know. We've been holding his torso for ransom this whole time!

[aph-centric-fixs]

Zane with a fem reader he thought was a guy because of her avatar online headcanons or smth? :3 I think that'd be funee

Not at all like the game!!

Sure!! I've seen this trope in basically every fandom I've been in, and honestly I've got no problem with it as long as it's not made into a weird thing.

Zane x female! Reader (referred to with he/him in the beginning)

CW// possible ooc? & writing

In all honesty, Zane never thought he'd get so hooked on a game, he was never the type. It just sort of ran in the family, not being too obsessed over games.

The only reason he even got the game was so he could play it with Aphmau, she wouldn't stop bothering him about it so he gave in. And here he is now, playing the game whenever he has free time. It was honestly embarrassing, especially after he reached a higher rank than Aphmau- she had been playing so much longer than him!

It wasn't all as bad as he expected. The story was decent, the characters customization was great, and the community wasn't all horrible. He had found a small guild to join pretty quickly, not too many active members but enough to go on raids and such. The boss of the guild was a high ranking player, good gear and all, and yet he never fit the stereotype of other high ranking players.

He always welcomed low levels into the party, and easily carried anyone who needed it. Zane felt a little embarrassed at times, having to ask him to help him defeat this one boss but he never once shamed Zane.

Over time a great bond grew, Zane and his new best friend raided dungeons and castles almost daily. It didn't come to that much of surprise when the question of hanging out in person was raised. Chatting in and out of the game led Zane to know he was an adult and not some kid, boy would that be horrible for him.

Setting a time and place was easy, though it came to a surprise on both ends that they lived in the same state, much more the same city. A park was decided to be the best place, nice and public while also not too far for either one. Plans weren't exactly made after that, Zane just figured it would be a go with the flow type of thing.

The hangout date came quicker than he thought it would, leaving him to be nervous all morning and on the way over. What if he didn't like Zane? If his voice was too squeaky or something? God, this was high school all over again!

When he arrived at the park he looked around at everyone there, no one looked like who he thought he was looking for, so he sat down at a bench and waited. He basically stared a hole into his phone waiting for a message to pop up. While he waited some one came and sat next to him, and he couldn't help but take a glance at the pretty girl next to him. With a scoff, Zane went back to looking at his phone.

With a small vibration his phone notified him of a text. Quickly opening it he almost laughed with the seemingly worried 'where are you!!' message. He didn't wait to type out a response of 'on a bench' and waiting for a reply. Imagine his surprise when he got back a 'me too!'. I mean there weren't many benches at the park, and most were taken up by families or couples. The only bench without one was...

Wait a minute. Zane turned to look over, almost stiff as he watched the girl next to him type... And his phone go off.

"You're a girl!!??!" He said, watching the poor person next to him jump and drop their phone.

It was silent between the two, him staring at you, you staring at him. Slowly reaching down and picking up your phone, you looked down at your phone then back at Zane.

"Your avatar looks so like you" Zane's eyes basically blew out of his skull with how much he was surprised.

"Oh, I could say the same for you" He bit back sarcastically, only to be met with a laugh. Rolling his eyes he put his phone in his pocket and crossed his arms.

With that confusion out of the way, the two of you started to chat, mostly about actual stuff rather than game stuff.

"So why'd you choose a guy character anyways?" Zane asked out of the blue, closing the small silence that had just passed.

"Well, girls in any gaming communities in general tend to get harassed. And the armor just looks so much better on male characters!" You replied, smiling and pulling up google to show him what you meant. With a hum he looked over your shoulder to see.

After a small bit of comparing male and female characters armor, Zane's stomach basically screamed out in hunger. It was embarrassing, but you didn't say anything other than a small laugh.

"Y'know, I know a good burrito place down the street" You suggested, standing up and stretching before looking back at Zane.

"Sounds good to me" He replied, standing up himself and following side by side as you two continued to chat.

[veneerslipstick]

Can you make a veneer x reader where reader is supposedly assistant but actually a super famous model/popstar? Velvet and Veneer only realize that their assistant was no ordinary person, (Veneer notices it first) but a celebrity more popular than them (Velvet only realizes when they go to reader's concert that Veneer begged Velvet to go with him) :3 (also reader took the job because they wanted to try having "a normal job" for once and for the possibility of making friends with other popstars) and can we choose our stage names ourselves?

my first request, thank u!!! i love this plot omg…, absolutely >o<

F/S/N : first stage name

L/S/N : last stage name

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚

• falling for fame •

veneer x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .・。

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door to their dressing room and

dashed down the hall. you had just finished helping

Velvet and Veneer get un-ready from their

performance, which was absolutely spectacular.

every time you watch them perform you’re taken

away by how they control an audience and how their

aura beams across the room. being their assistant ,

you kind of have to say things like that for appeal, but

you really meant it 99% of the time.

the other the majority of that percentage was from

what you took by watching Venner, though.

whenever you watched him dance and sing and

seem so relaxed, you can’t help but feel the urge to

start moving too.

maybe he was your inspiration when you decided to become your own star.

now out of the building, you hurried down a small

trail behind the overly large structure which led to an

underground neighbourhood that was lightened up

by old bulbs hanging from trees and cheap

streetlights. this place didn’t really have any

meaning , well, of course until you showed up.

you had finally made it to another building , where

you dragged yourself to your own dressing room.

after running up many stairs, you let your huge work

tote bag down and started undressing, throwing your

robe on as you waited for someone.

knock knock

there she was.

“come in,” you called and the door opened. Georgia,

your own assistant , came through holding clothes in

her arms and lots of small bags. she smiles brightly

at you.

“oh, y/n, thank goodness. i almost thought you

ditched on all of us.” she jokes, putting the outfit

down on your mini sofa beside your vanity which you

sat at. Georgia was a sweet woman, who was a

mother to a small boy, Finn, you had met one or

twice. she was a dream assistant to anyone who

wanted one that didn’t bark or bitch.

“i would never abandon you, Gia. the siblings were

busy today, Velvet wanted extra touch ups and such.”

you explained while Georgia set up curling irons and

laid out makeup brushes. you seen her smile slyly at

you.

“oh, really? it wasn’t because you got caught up

staring holes in the back of her brothers head? huh,

how strange.” she teased you, and you fought back a

huge smile that threatened to take up your whole

face.

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” you

murmur, trying to hide the embarrassment in your

voice, but obviously failing.

you sort of wished Veneer would show up, if only he

knew. you weren’t sure WHY he didn’t know,

Velvet either, considering you were popular enough

for plenty of people to know about.

you tried to shrug it off, but you still felt weird about

it. you guessed they had better things to worry

about, that wasn’t you.

( performance ref pictures for anyone that wants them, if not then imagine to your hearts content )

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚

Meanwhile…

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door, and Veneer bit the inside of his

cheek.

“i wonder where she goes after her shifts.” he

wonders out loud, crossing his arms. Velvet looks at

him like he said something out of pocket, and she

scoffed.

“hm, well, i don’t really give a shit. she can do what

she wants, can’t she?” she said in a snarky tone,

gathering her things together and throwing her now

free hair into a loose ponytail. you did an amazing job

with being able to get all of the product out of their

hair , and Veneer only noticed how flawless it was

now.

Velvet headed towards the door and looked back at

Veneer.

“i’m heading home, Ven. you following ?” she asked,

raising an eyebrow. Veneer was still staring at the

door from when you walked out, but he looked at

Velvet and smiled.

“yeah, eventually. go on, i’ll get a ride later.” he

replied. Velvet kind of gave a side eye to a fake

camera and shrugged. “mkay.. ciao.” she closed the

door on her way out.

Veneer waited a second. two. three.

he scrambled, threw on a pullover hoodie and bolted

out the door, following after you.

he panicked half the time, hoping that he looked like

a janitor on his way home from his shift , and frankly

he did. he followed you out of the building and down

the strange path that he didn’t even knew existed,

but he tried not to question it.

he made sure not to get too close , but also not too

far away, not because he was afraid of losing sight of

you, but also to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt.

now he saw what he walked into, a beautiful

underground neighborhood that almost looked like a

child’s dream treehouse. he was so taken aback that

he lost sight of you and began to panic. you

vanished in thin air, and he almost turned around to

run. but then he started hearing music, from a stage

from the middle of the grounds.

“what…” he whispered. he began walking towards it.

it took him a few minutes to get there, and when he

did, loads of people started flooding the ground, and

he became afraid of people recognizing him. he

pulled the hood further up but made sure to keep his

eyes on the stage. but it just got worse from there.

he could’ve swore the ENTIRE neighborhood was

flooded with people; 3x the crowd that Veneer and

Velvet get. Veneer began to over think.

‘Vel wouldn’t be happy about this…’ he thought to

himself, and he was about to leave again, when all

the lights on stage went off. people began cheering

and screaming as the sound of footsteps tapped on

the stage. the lights came back on, and Veneer seen

a tall lady standing at the front of the stage in a suit

holding a microphone

“you’ve all been waiting long enough! please welcome our loved, F/S/N L/S/N to the stage!”

more cheering commenced and Veneer was getting

confused. he certainly didn’t know that name. that

was until the lady left the stage and someone else

took the lead behind her.

Veneer froze.

“oh my god.” he said out loud. you appeared at the

front of the stage, backup dancers behind you. you

posed with confidence and gazed the crowd like you

owned it. he stood and stared like that’s what he was

born to do.

it was a magnificent performance.

As much as he adored Velvet and everything

she did was better than what anyone else

could do, he couldn’t say the same thing

right now.

he gazed and was lost in a trance; at the

way you danced, sung like you were holding

in a voice of gold since you were born and

controlled the audience with every striking

belt. this was probably the best show

Veneer has ever seen, and his heart

squeezed, wondering how this girl he swore

he knew ended up being someone

completely different.

after your performance, Veneer felt as if something

apart of him bloomed. that was all he needed to see

to feel complete. his supposedly normal assistant

was actually a pop star that he casually never knew

about ?

he wanted to go see you. he wanted to run backstage

and ask a million questions, but he knew he couldn’t.

not right now. instead, he ran off somewhere where

people weren’t and pulled out his phone and dialled

Velvet. she picked up after a few rings.

“what Veneer.”

“hi sis, uhm, were you AWARE that y/n, our

ASSISTANT, is a pop star???”

there was silence.

“…what the hell are you talking about? also where are

you??”

“listen, vel, i….i followed y/n here. i was curious of

her outside life and i accidentally discovered that

she’s super famous , and i kid you not that she’s

almost as famous as WE ARE. i’m bringing you here

tomorrow.”

“uhm. sure.” she sounded unsure.

“okay. i’m coming home.” he hung up and looked at

the stage one last time before leaving.

the next day…

after a long day of Veneer struggling to hide the face

that he knew about your “secret” , the time finally

came for Veneer to bring Velvet to your show. he

stood anxiously in their dressing room, picking at his

hands and clearing his throat repetitively. Velvet

noticed this as she was packing her things.

“uhm, what’s up with that? you’re the one that

wanted to bring me to her in the first place.” she

questioned, putting a hand on her hip as she

examined her brothers anxious gestures.

Veneer looked at her and suddenly stopped, running

his fingers through his hair.

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about. let’s go?”

he tried to change the conversation. Velvet would’ve

protested but she kind of wanted to get this over

with, but of course she had to throw in a remark.

“you like her.”

Veneers heart pumped furiously as the thought was

put in his head.

“no. well.. no! velvet.” he became embarrassed by her

comment and suddenly wanted to disappear. she

laughed.

“you’re really bad at hiding your feelings. i’m your

sister, i would know.” she smirked and opened the

door. “move it.”

he shook his head and went out the door, Velvet

closing it behind him.

Veneer guided his sister to the underground tunnel-

ish place and she grimaced with her voice.

“oh my god, it’s like, damp in here. ew.” she

complained, pulling at the sweater that she wore.

Veneer wasn’t really listening. he was eagerly looking

around, wondering if he would spot you out and

about, hoping to have a conversation before you

performed.

they made themselves to the pit of the arena,

ushering off to the side so people wouldn’t look at them.

“it’s off putting that no one has noticed us yet.

almost upsetting,” Velvet said.

“maybe it’s the fact we don’t have three tubs of gel in

our hair right now?” Veneer replied, not meaning to

sound like a hard-ass but coming off as it anyway.

Velvet scoffed. “shut it.”

that’s when the people started flooding in, and

Velvets face went shocked.

“holy shit,” she whispered , looking around

frantically.

“there’s no way this is for y/n. she has ten times more

people than we do! ugh!” she became upset and

veneer blew air in his cheeks.

“that’s..what i told you.” he whispered to himself and

looked to the stage.

when the hundreds of people finally stopped coming,

Veneer knew this was the time. he could barely wait.

he was basically shaking in his boots, eager to see

you. to see you dance and steal the shine of the

stars. he couldn’t help but see you as the moon.

then, the lights went off,and Veneer nearly shrieked.

he felt like a fanboy to his own assistant; and he

didn’t know how to feel about that.

the announcer came on again, and that’s when the

lights came back on and he could see you, there,

with a gorgeous outfit and stunning makeup that

made you seem intimidating. he could’ve cried at

how beautiful you were, his heart throbbed in his

chest as he just wanted to climb on stage and join

you; steal your own show but make you the main

attraction.

Veneer was getting caught up with his thoughts the

entire performance, and the look on his sister’s face

was priceless. he couldn’t really tell if it was jealousy,

admiration or a combination of both. but in this

moment, he didn’t care what she thought , all he

wanted to do was watch and admire you.

there was a split moment when you were near the

edge of the stage, singing effortlessly like you always

do, and made direct eye contact with veneer.

the whole world stopped for both of you. Veneer was

lost in your eyes, you were clueless of why he was

here, but that butterfly feeling started in the pit of

your chest. you kept singing , didn’t miss a single

word, and carried on.

Veneer felt his face flush as he continued to stare like

a fool.

after another ground breaking performance, the

applause roared across the entire plot and you gave a

bow, giving Veneer a final look and thanking

everyone in your mic. heading backstage , Veneer

held the urge to run back as well, but he looked to

Velvet.

she was already looking at him, and her expression

was…soft.

“go, Ven.” she said, motioning her head towards the

backstage entrance.

he smiled at her. “thank you vel.”

he ran to the backstage, being able to sneak past the

guards and past the red curtains.

he stopped to look around and saw you stepping off

the stage stairs. you looked at each other.

‘she’s so beautiful in the dark.’ he thought to

himself, walking towards you and your mouth parted.

“veneer,” you started, trying to get words out of your

mouth while shaking your head. “you..you knew?

how? you brought velvet ?? why…why?” so many

thoughts came blurting out and Veneer took your

hand.

“i always knew. i knew you pursued something,

you’re the type of girl to do that.” he looked at you

with kind eyes, and you swallowed with a dry mouth.

“i..” you stopped, taking a deep breath, looking away

and looking back. “thank you, for showing up. that meant more than you really know. i didn’t tell in fear of trying to out run you and Vel. i’m sorry,” you explained, a slight panic in your voice, but Veneer sealed your worries with a gentle kiss to your hand.

“let me support you y/n. i want this for both of us.”

his words had an effect on your heart and you smiled

warmly. you brought his and your hand to your heart.

“ yeah. just you and me. oh, well, Velvet too.” both of

you shared a laugh.

FLASH

a bright light came from the backstage entrance ,

and paparazzi and kid ritz stood there with shocked

expressions on their faces.

“oh.” you both said in unison.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦

a/n: AHHH IDK IF THIS WAS TOO LONG OR NOT IM CHARACTER FOR VENEER HELP 😞 i apologize if this sucks lol but i had fun making it 💗 tysm for the support lately i love all of you + my dms are always open if any of u need a friend ! requests are open always unless said otherwise <3

[rath00ker]

How twst characters text (Not including side or staff characters)

Riddle Rosehearts: He texts very dry and to the point 2/10 you’ll know what he wants but its awkward to text him

Trey clover: Texts in one word like someone’s dad 1/10 would text “food” to the heartslabyul group chat

Cater Diamond: Texts with too many abbreviations and emojis, 6/10 wouldn’t hate texting him

Deuce spade: texts like a normal person. Nothing special. 5/10

Ace Trappola: Texts the most out of pocket shit to get your attention. “Just imagine me n u OILED UP” 3/10, I’d be scared to open the notification

Leona Kingscholar: Also texts like someone’s dad and it takes him 2 to 3 business days to reply. 0/10

Ruggie Bucchi: He probably got one of them flip phones so it takes him forever to text and he won’t say a lot. 6/10 just cause I love him

Jack Howl: Also just texts like a normal person, 5/10

Azul Ashengrotto: Perfect grammar, punctuation and spelling. Will correct you on yours. 2/10 idc about “your” actually being “you’re” you know what the fuck I mean

Jade leech: Texts whole paragraphs like he’s writing you a letter but he’s actually just asking where you put the milk. 1/10 I don’t got time to read all that just ask me simple questions

Floyd Leech: Literally can’t type to save his life. You gotta decipher his text messages like code. 2/10

Kalim Al asim: He’s so friendly over text and uses a lot of “!!!” When texting. 7/10 what a pleasant young man

Jamil Viper: literally won’t text back. He calls you if he needs something. 1/10 TEXT ME BACK AND QUIT LEAVING ME ON SEEN

Vil Schoenheit: Also doesn’t text if you need him you have to call him. Never looks at his text messages or DMs because his fans are weird sometimes. 3/10 I understand but still

Rook hunt: Sends you pictures of your house 0/10

Epel Felmier: Texts in a southern accent 7/10 he’s a little country boy

Idia Shroud: Texting is like his one form of communication and he refuses to send paragraphs and just texts you ten sentences about one topic. 8/10 just like me fr

Malleus Draconia: Literally doesn’t know how to use a phone 0/10

Lilia Vanrouge: Doesn’t text just sends you links to really bad TikTok’s cause he thinks it’s funny. 2/10 please stop

Silver: Takes two to three business days to text back and probably falls asleep in the middle of texting you back. 5/10 he’s trying his best

Sebek zigvolt: I don’t care about Sebek 0/10

[thefirstlioveyou]

maybe this is more fanfic-y (and yes this ties with lettergate and that sus st writers tweet), but imagine s5 will walking in the woods, and he grows familar with where they’re at - near where castle byers was at.

he begins looking to find the destroyed pile of castle byers, just out of pure curiosity. he was expecting it to be all blown away by now from the cold and windy winter of 1985 he’d probably missed. but when he finds it… he finds it to be put together. well, not exactly how it was before - far from that. but, there was some sort of effort made by someone. couldn’t be just anyone. why would anyone care for something like this?

he gently rests a hand on the top, kneeling to sneak a peak inside, then falls an unsecure stick. his eyes following the stick, a bit buried, but noticable. he grabs it and opens it up.

the paper seems to have been crumbled before.

“dear will,

i’m sorry i hurt you like this. when you left, i couldn’t keep thinking about this. it felt like something wasn’t fixed. i never got to apologize for what i said that day when we were talking about el and the party, about how you don’t like girls. that was way out of line of me, and i didn’t mean it. i sounded just like the assholes that always bullied you i bet.

i guess i was just mad at myself. that whole summer, everything changed into something i didn’t like it. i was trying so hard to fit in with everyone else. lucas had max and maybe i just felt left out. did you ever feel like you were just trying to like things because people say you’re supposed to? i don’t like having a girlfriend. that makes me so weird, maybe crazy. but, i’m telling you this because you’re the only one that can accept my craziness, and because i lied to you and you deserve the truth - i can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. i feel so wrong, i feel like i’m making a mistake. it should be el that makes me feel like this - any girl. but i don’t want a girlfriend, i don’t want to be popular, i don’t want things to change. i want to be with you playing dnd forever. i want you to be by my side forever. i don’t want to lose you like that again.

anyway i think you’ll like how i renovated castle byers. sorry i couldn’t get it done the way it probably was before, running on memory here. but you mean so much to me i just couldn’t not do anything and it’s been killing me just letting it be. hope this is gonna at least last until whenever you come back. winter’s gonna be strong this year.

love, mike”

will’s just… crying, shaking. he’s a jittery mess as his heart pounds from true happiness. he folds the letter and puts it in his pocket. he felt something had been repaired in his heart. it was at its fullest, had it not been in many, many years.

he sits inside the castle smiling to himself

[kissorkill16]

Listen: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Trinity goes to confront Nicky about Mr. Murtaugh.

Trinity couldn't sleep. She had too many things on her mind, but one particular thought kept poking at her.

She had just recently found out that Nicky had been talking to Mr. Murtaugh about their private activities.

And not only that, but Mr. Murtaugh was also a cultist.

She managed to get some proof of it, along with the disgusting decapitation of the science teacher. When she was outside, she shared it with the group chat.

Why was Nicky talking to a cultist about their Crowface investigation? Did Nicky even know he was a cultist?

It would probably explain how the Forest Protectors knew where they were during their last time in the woods.

...Was Nicky the traitor?

Trinity shook her head.

No! She didn't want to believe that! She didn't even want to think that! There's no way Nicky could be the traitor, he's the one who got her so interested in the weird mysteries in this messed up town in the first place.

...But that still didn't answer her question.

She decided to ask him about it.

She got dressed, snuck out the window and ran to Nicky's house, her phone in her pocket.

Tonight, she was going to show him what his personal counselor really was.

When she got to his house, she noticed that all of the lights were off. She walked to the backyard and noticed that his window was still broken from his mental breakdown, and it looked like his parents tried to cover it up with tape.

Regardless, she picked up a rock and threw it at the window, making a semi loud bang noise. As she picked another one up, she heard a voice come from the window.

"Hey!", said the voice, "Stop! I don't want to have to explain to my parents why more of my window is broken."

It was Nicky.

Trinity dropped the rock, "Nicky, you're awake!", she said.

"Yeah, and so are you. We're both up at 11:00 at night. What a coincidence.", said Nicky. "But why're you here?"

"Because you and I need to talk."

A moment of silence, then Nicky walked back into the darkness of his room. Minutes later, a long rope was thrown out the window. Trinity grabbed onto the rope and climbed up until she was in Nicky's room.

Trinity dusted herself off and straightened her skirt.

"What'd you want to talk about?", asked Nicky, "And could you try to keep your voice down? My parents are asleep."

Trinity locked eyes with Nicky and asked him, "Why are you talking to Mr. Murtaugh?"

Nicky's eyes widened, then he sighed. He didn't want to have to explain this, but he kind of knew that this would happen at some point. "He's my therapist."

Now Trinity's eyes widened, "Yeah, he offered to have private talks with me every week. I've been telling him everything that's been happening or had already happened."

"Even our private investigation on Crowface? The one where we all agreed that no adults would get involved?"

When Trinity said that, Nicky looked down at his shoes in shame. "I may have told him a little about that."

"Nicky, why would you even consider talking to him about this? He's a total creep and when I first got to that school, you've been hiding from him since day one.", said Trinity.

"I know, but I feel like he's the only one who truly listens to me.", said Nicky. Trinity was surprised, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"What're you talking about, Nicky? I listen to you."

"Yeah, you do.", said Nicky, "Just not about my pain."

Trinity was even more confused, and kind of concerned. "What pain?"

Nicky pointed to his bedroom wall, and Trinity nearly fainted when she saw what was on it.

A tall, dark, distorted shadow in black colored pencil with spiraling eyes and huge, claw hands. It looked like it was going to rip off the wall and grab at them.

"Ever since I was in the basement, that thing has been haunting me. I kept thinking it was a figment of my imagination, but then it kept saying that it was Mya and Lucy and shapeshifting into their forms. I don't think anyone else is able to see it though, because if they did, they'd be in the same state I was in. It kept forcing me to play games with it and threatened to hurt me if I didn't, and whenever I was in extreme distress, I felt like it was getting bigger and bigger."

Now Trinity was less confused and more concerned.

"Then Mr. Murtaugh came into the picture, and I didn't want to admit it at first, but he was actually really helpful. I felt like I could really talk to someone about my problems and they wouldn't judge me or walk away when I needed them. He even prescribed me these sleeping pills, and they keep me out like a light. I feel like I really vibe with him, and he gave me so many reasons to trust him. When people bullied me for making fun of my trauma, he was there. When Finch took that humiliating picture, he was there. When the thing kept haunting my dreams, he was there. He was always there."

Trinity smiled, then that smile fell. "But what about me, Nicky? I'm your friend."

Nicky sat down on his bed and looked at his lap, "I know, but I feel like I can't talk to you about these things. You already have so much going on with leading a whole team and trying to find the truth behind the Golden Apple coins, I don't want to put more weight on your shoulders. Also, I feel like Mr. Murtaugh actually keeps his promises. He promised he would always be there whenever I needed someone to talk to, and he was. But in Mr. Peterson's house, when you promised to be right back for me...you..."

Nicky didn't need to finish that sentence, Trinity already knew what he meant.

"But I know you didn't mean to leave me in there, you just -"

Trinity leapt forward and trapped Nicky in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, Nicky. I didn't mean to ignore you or leave you in there. Everything was just so hard for me ever since I got this stupid coin and I feel like they really do mean bad luck. Everything going on from one of my own friends being a traitor, from Crowface trying to stop us, and now I find out that you don't even trust me anymore."

As Trinity said these things, she felt herself beginning to cry.

"I swear, this just makes me want to lose the coin on purpose."

When she said that, Nicky wrapped his arms tighter around her.

"Please don't!", he nearly shouted. "I don't want you to die! I've already lost so many friends, and some of them were probably already caused by Crowface and those stupid bad luck coins. Please don't die, I can't handle losing another friend."

Then Nicky started to cry. Trinity let him bury his face in her shoulder, and she slowly rubbed his back.

Hearing all of this, she decided to just keep the video she took to herself and the gang. She didn't want to see Nicky heartbroken when he found out that he was once again hurt by someone he thought he could trust.

Nicky started to take deep breaths, and finally pulled away from Trinity, wiping his eyes.

"Nicky, I promise I'll try to be a better friend and a better leader. And I promise I won't die on you.", said Trinity, "And I actually mean this promise."

Nicky smiled at his friend, still wiping his eyes.

Then he nearly felt his heart jump out of his body when Trinity leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Before he could say anything, Trinity ran to the window and climbed out, "I'll see you tomorrow.", she said before climbing down the rope.

All the while, Nicky was still processing what she just did, and he didn't even notice that he was sweating, or that his face was red.

[sleepy-shinx]

Fellow submas fans what are your favorite reunion scenarios

And I want to hear two things from y’all:

1. Your favorite way to imagine the reunion happening in your head

2. Your favorite reunion scene in a currently existing fanfiction (AND TELL ME THE FIC/LINK IT SO I CAN READ IT IF I HAVEN’T ALREADY)

My response to prompt 1 turned longer than expected so I’m putting it under the read more, but my answer to 2 is fucking @dittolicous’s fic ‘the only way to be sure of catching a train is to miss the one before it’ I swear to god it’s the most delicious submas fic I’ve ever read I have reread it so many times purely for the reunion alone but then I get sucked into the rest because it’s just a beautiful story and all of the characterization is my absolute favorite and. It. Is. AMAZING.

HERE’S THE LINK. READ IT.

Anyway my answer to #1 is below the cut- it’s long- it got away from me- I would love for y’all to read it but if you don’t it’s chill and I’d still love to hear your own thoughts on my prompts-

For me for #1 I LOVE the idea of Ingo getting his memories back but somehow the reunion is still a surprise for both him and Emmet. The way I have it play out in my head is a whole story that could hypothetically be a fanfiction if it weren’t for the fact that I have very few details lined out and also that takes effort.

But essentially Volo’s still being a bitch but after a talk with Akari, Arceus realizes some of the mistakes it made with bringing her into Hisui with no prior warning and forcing her to tackle everything alone, so it approaches her and Ingo to request their help in stopping Volo once and for all, returning both of their memories at the same time. It also promises to send them help, but does not elaborate on what the help will exactly look like. It does say that it will call on them for assistance once it has chosen those who will join them. It also says that if they are successful in their endeavors, they will be rewarded with one favor from the God.

Naturally after getting his memories back Ingo’s a whole mess of grief but having committed to staying in Hisui for the time being he has no choice but to stay. In this, Akari is Dawn the DPP protag and Arceus gave her a false memory of what her name was when she was sent to Hisui. She’s also not doing super great after getting her memories back but not as bad as Ingo who was there longer than her (I’ve settled on 4 years for Ingo and 1.5 years for Dawn)

However, Arceus may have seemed like it was still deciding who to send when it spoke to them, but it already knew exactly who to send.

And it involved righting the wrongs committed by Volo and Giratina with the space-time distortions.

Cut to modern day Unova! Emmet is a wreck in his brother’s absense, but he’s doing better than he was in the first couple years. Things have changed for those Ingo left behind; Elesa and Skyla start dating while he’s gone in this fic, and I like to imagine that Iris becomes Champion in his absense (specifically because Hil(da/bert) were still missing, so Unova technically had no Champion and Alder had fully retired from the battling scene. This was leading to complications in getting clearance to branch out the search for Ingo to other regions and Iris, fully sick of it, challenges the League herself and Drayden calls in a favor from Alder to get her a ‘Champion’ to battle. And she ends up being one of Unova’s best Champions in many different ways! Also I imagine the events of BW2 absolutely happened except Rosa/Nate decided not to challenge the Elite Four. Oh god that was quite a tangent uh)

And then one night four years after his disappearance (and like two weeks after Arceus asks Ingo and Dawn for their help), Emmet and Elesa both have the same very weird dream.

In which Arceus asks them both for their assistance, because shit’s going down in ancient Sinnoh and it needs more human help in getting it to stop. It does NOT tell them why EXACTLY they specifically are being asked, just that there IS a specific reason it’s asking them of all people and that they won’t regret going. It gives them two days to think and decide, also offering them the reward of a favor if they succeed.

This gives the two of them time to not only decide, but also TELL THEIR LOVED ONES THAT THIS IS HAPPENING

Emmet’s initially hesitant about doing it, but the favor seals the deal for him. With no context to what Arceus is doing at this point, he is determined to try to use the favor he will receive from the God to get Ingo back. He doesn’t really tell anyone except Elesa, not wanting to get anyone’s hopes up in case Arceus is unable to help, but deep down he hopes that if NOTHING else he will at least get closure.

Elesa was down from the start, she has no reason to say no and the favor is very enticing. For reasons.

(Cute side note I only have Elesa’s favor decided on. And she asks Arceus to ensure that on her and Skyla’s wedding day, the weather will be absolutely perfect. Perfect temperature, partly cloudy, slight breeze. Just exactly what they need for a beautiful wedding. And Arceus gifts her a pen that it tells her to write the date down with once it is decided upon and it will make sure it happens.)

(I also think that up until that point the two of them had absolutely talked about getting married but Elesa wasn’t ready because she had decided years ago that if she ever got married she wanted the twins to walk her down the aisle (bad relationship with her parents) and. yeah)

Anyway! They were instructed to go to Sinnoh if they decided to go and so Skyla flies them there (she doesn’t stay in Sinnoh, it was made quite clear that Emmet and Elesa would potentially be gone for a couple months (and they are)). They go up Mount Coronet and climb The Stairs into Arceus’s domain to meet with Arceus in the flesh this time.

Where, before sending them to Hisui, it tells them a story. About a man named Volo, who wished to remake the world so no one would suffer, so he manipulated Giratina into doing his bidding and started ripping tears open in space-time. Creating space-time distortions, and eventually even the rift above Mount Coronet.

It also says that when were opened, usually they connected Hisui to the modern world, and usually, the rift openings that were much smaller in the modern day than in Hisui, would open in areas far enough away from human civilization to prevent humans from being sucked through them.

With one notable exception.

Arceus reveals that four years ago, one particular distortion opened in the Hisuian Icelands that connected specifically to the subway tunnels underneath Nimbasa City.

And Emmet and Elesa understand instantly.

Both are a mess at this point, Emmet much more so. He hadn’t expected to get answers right off the bat. But there’s the terror rising in his heart of if his brother was dropped into unfamiliar, freezing cold territory 200 years in the past, would he have survived that???

He asks Arceus with a choked voice if his brother is still alive.

Arceus responds by calling Ingo into its domain, having called upon him prior to this to ‘ensure that those it was sending to the past would have someone to guide them through the unfamiliar time and place’.

Leaving the twins open to having a truly glorious, loud, and extremely emotional surprise reunion.

(Aside from knowing it wanted to send Ingo and Dawn’s loved ones back to be reunited with them, Arceus thought it would be VERY funny to have a team of six humans like humans have teams of six Pokemon. Barry and Lucas end up being the other two sent back to Hisui, to reunite with Dawn.)

I have not a lot of details about the meat of this story figured out. The vague outline is Emmet having separation anxiety, Elesa feeling like a weight is lifted off of her shoulders because she no longer has to grieve Ingo while simultaneously keep Emmet going despite his own heavier grief, Ingo having serious identity issues and feeling inadequate because he forgot Emmet while his brother grieved him so heavily, so he doesn’t talk to him about his own trauma and grief and ends up having a mental breakdown eventually that Emmet helps him through, and Volo has found some other legendary from another region that he’s using to try and remake the world again. I haven’t decided which one.

And then once Volo is beat they go home, both twins firmly convinced that their reunion was Arceus granting them their favors early as ya know, Emmet wanted his brother back and Ingo wanted his FAMILY back. Arceus catches on to this and promptly informs them that no, that was part of its plan from the beginning, that it was merely righting a wrong it should have righted long before then, and that their favors are still very much available to them. They do not use them at that time, since they did not expect to still have the favors, and they did not have anything else in mind.

(Elesa asks for her aforementioned one on the spot. At this point she’s so excited to have a much more serious conversation with Skyla about their future, and with her best friend alive and safely home, she’s finally ready for the next step.)

All the weary time travelers are returned to modern Sinnoh. Skyla hops on her plane the moment Elesa calls. They all go to Twinleaf town, Unovans included while they wait for Skyla. Dawn reunites with her Mom.

Skyla is fucking ecstatic when she sees Ingo’s alive, and they fly home to Unova after saying goodbye to Dawn, Barry, Lucas, and Johanna. They specifically fly to Opelucid, thinking Uncle Drayden’s house is a better place for Ingo to readjust to the modern day than their apartment in the middle of bustling Nimbasa City.

They are absolutely correct, but that doesn’t stop the breakdown Ingo has when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he’s home and can rest and not have to worry about his safety in the wilderness with angry wild Pokemon constantly posing threats to his well-being.

But he has his family by his side, who are more than happy to help him through it :3

[kyouka-supremacy]

I usually like to imagine that Beast! Sskk's relationship is just as intense and, if not, even more tumultuous than than canon! Sskk, but the other part of me says they get together quicker (whether they work together as partners quicker or simply become boyfriends quicker, your pick) entirely because I find the prospect of the beast! ADA interaction with Beast! Atsushi so funny

Like on one hand, Atsushi is known as the White Reaper of the Port Mafia, one of the most terrifying and ruthless assassins. But he also has the personality of a very skittish cat that stands in corner of the room and does not talk to people aside from stare at them (its the anxiety) but since he masks his usual emotions so much he just looks really menacing.

And on the flip side the ADA cherishes Akutagawa; they trust him and they believe in his intuition, so if Akutagawa assured them that there is no harm in Atsushi's presence, then surely they have nothing to worry about, right? Yeah but they forget Akutagawa's weird as fuck and finds companionship in the most questionable people, so they should've figured to prepare themselves in advance

So now there are rules in the ADA regarding Atsushi when he is in their building:

1.) Akutagawa needs to stay in the room and keep atsushi company for everybody's mental health (so many weapons came out in the 3 minutes it took for Akutagawa to go to the cafe for a snack and come back)

2.) Dont stare tiger boy in the eyes too long he'll get defensive (at least he was kind enough to repair the broken wall in the agency office)

3.) Dont turn the lights off when he's in the room he blends too well in the dark (everyone had at least 2 heart attacks cause they couldn't see or tell he was there)

4.) Dont take photos of him he'll know when the camera is pointed at him (fukuzawa tried to video him playing with the trinkets and Akutagawa's desk and he got so embarrassed he left and ghosted everyone for a few weeks)

5.) Dont comment on the amount of sugar he takes (emotional support sugar packets for his coffee. Same incident as rule.4)

6.) If sskk does some out of pocket homoerotic enemies type shit, ignore them. They're not gonna stop. (Ada made a betting pool, and it keeps pooling in more money. Akutagawa doesn't know its existence yet)

Okay first of all Anon THANK YOU I LOVE YOU WITH EVERYTHING I'VE GOT LITERALLY NOTHING IS GOING TO EVER GIVE ME AS MUCH JOY AS OPENING MY ASKBOX TO SEE A LONG ASK TALKING ABOUT BEAST SSKK. DAY WEEK MONTH ABSOLUTELY MADE I LOVE YOU FOREVER.

Second of all Beast ada is SO unhinged, they all literally went “this is our little murderous wet dog of a new member and this is his doubly murderous catboyfriend”. I love the set of rules, in my mind Kunikida actually wrote them down and hang them next to the door of Fukuzawa's office, hoping it could help avoid confusion in the office as much as possible. They are updated occasionally. I love Atsushi being... Completely unstable like yeah that's literally everything Beast Atsushi is (on the verge of breakdown / violent panic attack 24/7). Like he IS a feral cat he IS going to launch at you and scratch your face. And I LOVE how Akutagawa's presence instantly calms him because??? It would??? Because they have this unmatched connection and Atsushi knows no one understands him as deeply as Akutagawa does, and that at least is comforting and soothes him and makes him feel safe. + major abandonment issues that will have him quietly (and then not so quietly) spiral into panic as soon as Akutagawa is gone and he's left alone in an environment he's not familiar with. I'm dying at the idea of Atsushi ghosting the ada for weeks on more than one occasion that's such a dysfunctional behavior and that's so him I love it. I love all of these brilliant spectacular showstopping thank you so much Anon I owe you my life

[14muffinz]

Whoops! It seems like twin-sync leo has run off to who knows where! Have you seen him?

[this answer is a collaboration with the original asker. the parts in april's perspective are mine, and the parts in donnie's perspective are hers. I hope this still makes some semblance of sense]

~~~

April nearly crashes into the turtle, just barely managing to catch herself in time. Maybe running around the arena isn't the best idea, but, well, she's gotta find her brother somehow.

After stumbling into an alternate April, Donnie blinked a few times in surprise, sure he knew there was other April's, but there weren't too many around in here.

"Uh, no, I don't think so," she says. She might have, for all she knows, but with how hyperfocused she's been on finding her own, she's spotted plenty of different ages, heights, eye colours, and so on. She hasn't focused to hard on anyone in purple, though, and thus she can't help but startle when she realises that this Donnie seems to have slider markings on top of his own. (She should probably be used to weirdness by now, but there's something especially off-putting about seeing something unknown in one of her brothers. "Have you seen my Leo?"

A moment too late, she realises that he probably doesn't know what her Leo actually looks like.

After registering her question he grimaced slightly as he spoke, “Ah… well maybe?? There's a shocking amount of blue here actually..” he ended his statement with a nervous chuckle.

April huffs, figuring she might as well take a bit of a breather. "No kidding. At least my bro's will be able to catch up with me if they don't have any better luck, I'm sticking out a bit I think."

She figures that they're probably still looking for Leon. She can't exactly imagine any of them giving up, unless they do something stupid like trying to use their ninpo to aid in the search.

"I wonder if there's a better way at catching their attention here than just running around aimlessly. I went to the, uh, lost and found corner earlier with my bros, but that place seemed to make it worse than better, to be honest. And, like, this is a really good opportunity to find my brother, since he's been missing for a while, so I can't just…" she trails off, then winces. "Right, sorry, you don't need my life story. Did your brother run off while he was here, or have you been looking for him the whole time?"

Donnie tilted his head to the side as he began recounting the earlier events that lead to Leo running away, “So we may have made friend while we were here, and he thought it would be fun to introduce one of HIS friends to US…” the striped turtle paused for a second “…which wouldn't have been a PROBLEM if he wasn't so… menacing, to put it lightly.”

The purple-clad turtle looked back at April with a nervous expression, “And he kinda… ran off at the sight of him…” the turtle sighed in frustration, “and apparently he got REALLY fast cause I couldn't catch up to him..”

"Ah. Good luck finding him, I guess," she responds awkwardly.

He then directed the question back at her “What about you? Has your Leo been missing long?” He asked.

April nods in response to his question, shoving her hands into her pockets and wrapping one hand around the fidget cube that she's got stored inside. She starts frantically tapping at buttons while she says, "Uh, yeah. He's been missing for over a year at this point, and we haven't had a lot of leads. He just... up and left one night."

It's not really the whole story. It's his missing arm, the one that's still in beta and specially made for fighting at that. It's the nail marks in Draxum's table, as though someone had frantically gripped it, and how Big Mama has been on their asses for months about a robbery that never even happened.

"When we got here, we realised that a lot of other reunions were going on, so we figured that he had to be here somewhere. But so far, no dice. The costumes really aren't helping any."

he took in her response and said “Oh, well my Leo was trapped in another dimension before this whole thing started, but we could still talk, sometimes at least.” He got quieter as he spoke, truly thinking about going a whole year without ever knowing if Leo was even alive… finally came to a resolve with a determined expression, empathy filled eyes looked back to the alternate version of his sister.

"That's good," she says weekly, forcing herself to push down the jealousy that builds. She'd give anything to talk to her missing brother right about now, but she isn't going to allow herself to get upset over something she's glad someone had.

He offered her a hand and with a smile he spoke “How about we team up and look for him together?” In his mind he resolved that his own Leo would be okay for a little longer.

April smiles and nods, reaching out her non-fidgeting hand to shake his. "I'll help find yours too, y'know. It's only fair. The more eyes the better, and all."

When they release the handshake, she grabs her phone out of her pocket, quickly flipping over to a folder full of comfort videos with her and her family. They'd made it shortly after the Kraang Incident, when emotions and separation anxiety were running rampant, and it's been getting tons of use since Leon vanished. She scrolls over to a group photo, taken just a few weeks before he'd gone missing, and shows it to the alternate version of her brother. "This is my fam, so that you can help look. I don't really know if I need help looking for my brothers, since supposedly we'll get tossed back home when all this is over, but... I don't know, it seemed important, I guess."

She twists the cube in her pocket, starting to toy with another side. She's definitely sure that the clicking of the button is now audible, but doesn't particularly care.

Donnie did his best to not acknowledge the faint, but still audible, clicking he heard in an effort to not stress April out any more than he may have already.

Looking towards the picture, he made sure to commit the faces- but in particular Leo's- to memory so he could accurately search alongside her.

As they searched, Donnie encouraged and contributed to telling stories of their respective Leos in an effort to lighten the mood.

~~~

Thanks for writing this with me, was a blast!

@tmntaucompetition

[floralhuqzz]

What is love about? (Johnnie Guilbert x fem reader)

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: none

summary: y/n always drinks coffee in the mornings in a cafeteria near where she lives, when she spots a guy who caughts her attention

english is not my first language so i apologize if theres any misspelled words, etc🖤🦇

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

i woke up by the sound of my alarm. I grunted as i took my phone and adjusted my eyes to the brightness of my phone as i turn off my alarm. It was currently 8 am so that meant that i had to go to work in a few hours… i sat down and scrolled through my phone a bit. I got up from bed and put on my slippers as i yawn and stretch,, i open my closet and start looking for a good outfit,, i work at hot topic so you can imagine how my work clothes looked like. I finally picked an outfit and did my makeup and brushed my teeth before picking my bag and going outside.

your outfit:

Since i worked at a shopping center i always went to Starbucks for coffee. I ordered a cappuccino as i sat down sipping on my coffee as i pulled out my sketchbook and my pencil case. i checked the time and i still had 1 hour until my shift starts. i didn’t know what to draw so i started to look around trying to get an inspiration when i layed my eyes on a black haired beautiful guy.. he had an amazing style and makeup..i must say he is really god damn hot… (i <3 emo guys ).

he suddenly makes eye contact with me and i look away. i look back at him and he kept looking at me over and over again “maybe it’s because he likes my outfit” i thought to myself. he sat down two tables away from me as he scrolled through his phone as he took a sip of his coffee.. ill to draw him. i couldn’t keep my eyes away from him..

i started drawing him.. trying to draw as many details as i can,, after 30 min he finished his coffee and wanted to leave but i took my opportunity and approached him..

“hi..” i smiled a little, i was so fucking nervous

“oh hi” he smiles as he puts his phone in his pocket as he spoke

“umm i hope doesn’t sounds weird but.. i drew you” i said a little embarrassed as i gave him the drawing

“holy fuck! you did this in 30 minutes?!” he takes my drawing and smiles

“yeah i can draw pretty fast,, i like your style” i smiled still a little nervous

“i love this, thank you so much…i like your outfit and makeup and..pretty much everything” he smiles as he looks at me up and down.

“thank you” i blush as i smile

“i dont wanna sound like a stalker but.. ive noticed you are here pretty often”

i look a bit confused but i chuckle a bit

“yeah i work at hot topic”

“youre kidding?! i fucking love that store” he smiles

“i can tell” we both laugh

i check the time on my phone, i had 3 minutes until my shift starts

“fuck i have to go to work, im running late” i take my stuff

“hey can i get yo-“ i interrupt him

“its in the back of the paper” i smile as i start running to the store

he checks the back of the drawing and sees the instagram username,, he smiles and sets on walking home.

johnnie’s pov:

i start walking home as i kept thinking about that girl at the cafe,, i get home as i sat down in the sofa and start looking at the drawing again for the millionth time.

“whats that?” jake says

“nothing” i put the drawing in my pocket

“was that a drawing?” he smiles

“no..”

“come on johnnie we are best buddies…im like your ketchup to your fries, you are the dick to my balls-“

“jake thats fucking gross” i sigh “a girl g-“

“A GIRL?” he took both of my shoulders “okay dude...YOU TALKED TO A GIRL?” he smiled “THIS IS A MOMENT OF HISTORY”

i laugh “ok can you let me finish?”

“okok”

“so i went to Starbucks today and i spotted this girl..and then she gave me this” i take the drawing from my pocket and show it to jake

“DUDE SHE WANTS YOU.”

i blush

“what?- jake we just met”

“and?” he crossed his arms

“and i dont think…thats the case,,maybe she just wants to be my friend”

“you are so fucking blind” he turns the paper and sees the instagram username “SEARCH THE USERNAME NOW”

“okok calm the fuck down” i take my phone and open instagram “found it”

“GIVE ME THE PHONE” he takes my phone and starts looking at her posts “oh she is hot.”

“JAKE”

“dude you better get with her or i will”

“omfg you are a prick” i take the phone and start looking at her pictures as i..blush?

“DUDE YOU ARE BLUSHING, YOU ARE INTO HER”

“OH SHUT UP”

time skip when y/n finishes work and gets home

y/ns pov:

i check my phone and i see a notification of a new follower on instagram.

“johnnie guilbert..” i thought to myself

i check his instagram,, he was really pretty…its like everything about him was perfect. i blush as i kepts stalking his instagram and i receive a new message

“hiii im johnnie (the guy from the cafe) :)”

“omg hi!”

“how are you? how was work?”

“im good, work was pretty boring ngl,, hru! ”

“im good im good, brushing my teeth rn”

“its 5 pm…”

“so?”

“who brushes their teeth at 5pm? hahaha”

“i do 🤓” he sents me a picture

"you are a weirdo"

"you are a weirdo for not brushing your teeth"

"NO ONE BRUSHES THEIR TEETH AT 5 PM"

"ok geez fine ahhsha"

"ive gotta go ill text you later :)"

"aww ok, bye bye <;3"

"bye<;3"

i placed my phone next to me as i layed in my room as i thought about johnnie for a while.. i think i have a bit of a crush on him.

time skip to 8pm*

I went to the kitchen and started to make myself some dinner as i was going through my phone as i saw a story from johnnie

"LIVE NOW"

"This could be fun", i thought to myself as i joined his twitch stream

johnnies pov:

"hey how is everyone doing??" i started reading my chat

"why do i look so happy??" i read someone comment "well today i met this...girl..." i smiled as i saw chat going crazy "yeah yeah.. so i met this girl today and she was like...everything i ever dreamed about like... chat im begin dead serious..and she gave me a drawing!" i take the drawing that was laying on my table and showed to the camera "isnt it perfect? look at the details" i point out every single detail "it looks like a photo" i read "yeah it does!"

i kept reading the chat for a while

"is she beautiful?" i read "yes she fucking is" i smile

a notification of a donation popped on my screen.

"you are so cute stop it haha <3 -from the cafe girl"

when i saw that message i literally wanted the ground to swallow me whole.. i didnt know what to say so i froze.. i completely forgot that i posted a link to my stream in my instagram stories...i was so fucking stupid-

"just kill me already.." i put my hands on my face blushing from embarrasment

i see a notification from my phone and i see that it was from y/n.. i see that she sent me a picture of her laptop from where she was watching my stream "someone is blushingggg"

"oh shut upp"

"i will if you ask me on a date"

"tomorrow 4pm at my house, what do u say???"

"ill be there ;)"

i look at my computer to read the chat "HE IS BLUSHING SM" "SO CUTE" "WE NEED TO FIND THIS GIRL!"

"oh sush chat" i laugh

....to be continued

SHOULD I CONTINUE THIS??