#Nobody thinks this way. What the fuck is wrong with you
Note
Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused. Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫
A/N - Ooh, you know I love me some angst. And considering that it's actually prom season right now, this makes this fic that much more personal to me (I don't have a date LMAO).
The Other Woman
Preview - "The fuck was so great about Uruame anyway? Maybe it was her intelligence, maybe it was her athleticism. Or maybe, just maybe, it was her ability to interact with Sukuna without stumbling over every other word."
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, mention of violence (Sukuna will be Sukuna)
Word Count - 4.3k
It was April now.
The season where girls compared prom dresses and guys anxiously put together their extravagant plans to ask the girl of their dreams to prom. It was the season that also revealed who was romantically interested in who — the couples that were thought to have been endgame break up juust before prom season, and if luck was truly a real thing, two people that nobody thought were romantically interested in the other were suddenly sucking face in the hallway.
And even though you had been saying since the beginning of the school year that you likely were not going to attend prom …
… you found yourself standing in a dress shop with Nobara and Maki, both of whom were dressing you in flashy colors and, quite frankly, expensive dresses.
“You’re kidding! Of course you’re going to prom, we’re not going without you,” Nobara comments, her tone offended as if you had told her that her shirt didn’t match her pants. Maki crosses her arms over her chest, agreeing wholeheartedly with the brunette at her side.
“Come on Nobara, it’s not like it’s gonna be worth it. You both have dates,” you point out, taking a sip from your water bottle and sending both of your friends knowing looks.
“And? You can go with Yuuji, you’ve both been conjoined at the hip since grade school,” Maki retaliates with a raise of her eyebrow. Nobara nods in agreement.
“First of all, I’m not taking my guy best friend to prom. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea,” you begin, holding up your hand and using your fingers as an imaginary list. “And second, I kind of want someone to ask me that is … y’know … romantically interested in me.”
Nobara claps her hands together as the curtain of your dressing room is yanked to the side, her smile widening impossibly further as she silently commands you to spin. You comply, turning in a circle in the royal blue dress that she had forced you into.
“I don’t know,” you say for the umpteenth time. Nobara deflates in her seat, turning her head to Maki in the hopes that maybe she would say something to convince you. But the green-haired girl doesn’t say anything, because in a way she understands.
“Come on (Y/N). Help us out here,” Nobara all but begs you, standing from her chair and walking over to you. She turns you in the direction of the full-body mirror in front of you, her hands affectionately squeezing her shoulders. “What color do you want to wear? Let’s start there.”
“I don’t even want to go Nobara,” you retaliate, meeting her gaze in the mirror’s reflection. She sighs again, dramatically letting go of you and sulking once she returns to her seat.
Maki rolls her eyes, finally walking over to you and glancing at you through the mirror. “Here, instead of color, who do you want to go to prom with?”
You freeze, already feeling your cheeks heat as your eyes flicker to momentarily meet Maki’s in the reflection.
“D’you think Sukuna is actually going to prom?” you ask Yuuji, stealing a chip from the bag that he holds and grinning to yourself as he silently shifts to ensure that you won’t steal another. He lifts his legs, crossing his ankles over one another as he hums in thought.
“I think he might’ve mentioned it. But you know him,” Yuuji pauses to eat another chip, “he’s not really one for those kinds of parties, y’know?”
You nod, but at the same time you can feel your heart sinking. Was it really a secret that you had a crush on the older brother of your childhood best friend? Honestly … no. But everyone but Sukuna knew (obviously), and yet nobody had really tried anything to help push you together.
Maybe that was because of his reputation, or maybe it was because your friends were trying to “protect” you from someone that you really didn’t need to be shielded from.
“Actually, now that you mention it,” Yuuji turns to you, crumpling up the now empty chip bag and tossing it into the garbage bin just a few feet in front of the two of you. “I think he mentioned asking Uruame to prom.”
You fall silent, nodding your head. “Mm … right.”
“I don’t know,” you answer again, shrugging your shoulders and already moving back towards the dressing room. You rip open the curtain, stepping inside and sighing. You lift your hands, rubbing them over your face as Yuuji’s words replay like a broken record in your head.
The fuck was so great about Uruame anyway?
Maybe it was her intelligence, maybe it was her athleticism. Or maybe, just maybe, it was her ability to interact with Sukuna without stumbling over every other word.
You glance upward at the small mirror in the dressing room, already reaching behind you to unzip the dress. You step out of it, returning it to its hanger before emerging again from the dressing room. Nobara and Maki glance up at you, having expected you to be wearing another dress.
“I think I’m done for today, if anything, I’ll just wear an old dress,” you say nonchalantly, trying to hide the waver that had started to creep into your tone. Maki nods understandingly, but Nobara rises to her feet and promptly places both hands on her hips.
“(Y/N),” she says sternly, stomping over to you and grabbing both of your hands into her own. “We are going to find you a perfect fucking dress, you are going to have a perfect fucking time at prom, and we are going to all go together because fuck men.”
Maki sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. "Nobara-" she begins, but her words are quickly cut off by a dismissive wave of Nobara's hand.
"Now come on," Nobara places her palms flat against the backs of your shoulders, pushing you back towards the dressing room and turning to get the attention of the consultant who had been helping the three of you. "We're finding you a dress, and it's gonna be perfect."
< ... >
"Here brat, got you those fuckin' chips that you won't shut up about," Sukuna rolls his eyes as he closes the front door. He turns towards the couch, promptly throwing a bag of chips at Yuuji's face. You bite back the chuckle that claws up your throat as Yuuji yells out in surprise, pressing his palms against his face.
"The hell?! Uncalled for!" Yuuji whips his head around to send a glare to his older brother, the latter of whom only shrugs before turning his attention to you.
"Here, got you somethin' too," he says gruffly, clearing his throat as he rummages through the white plastic bag that he's slung over his arm. From it he removes a bag of candy that you had mentioned liking, which he hands to you.
"Oh, thanks Sukuna!" You turn to smile at him as you take it, fingers momentarily brushing against his own. The contact brings a gentle pink hue to your cheeks, though his face remains stoic as ever – completely unreadable. As he usually was.
Sukuna only grunts in response to your thanks, then turning on his heel and promptly vanishing into his room. You return your attention to the movie that Yuuji had put on, noticing him staring at you out of the corner of your eye.
"What?"
"Do you … shit (Y/N) … do you like my brother?"
You cough, Yuuji's question catching you completely off of your guard. You whip your head to face him, cheeks heating at the knowing smile that your best friend wears. He abandons his chips, already rising to his feet.
Shit.
You spring up from your place on the couch, already diving for Yuuji. Your arms lock around his waist, knocking both him and yourself to the ground. "Don't you fucking dare."
The pink-haired boy merely laughs in response, opening his mouth to yell. You yelp, pressing both of your palms against his lips and pressing down hard. He winces, but his eyes are still crinkled in that bright little shit-eating grin that continues to remind you just how fucked you were.
You stare down at him, eyes as cold as ice. "Say a word and I'll kill you."
Yuuji only rolls his eyes, but that shit-eating grin never once fades from his face.
< ... >
"See! I told you that we would find the perfect dress!" Nobara says proudly, hands on her hips as she admires you from behind. Her eyes meet yours in the reflection of your bedroom's mirror, lips turned upward in a smile.
You had to admit, the dress was absolutely gorgeous. It was (Y/F/C) with gentle highlights and trimmings that fit around both your chest and waist. The center of the dress was corseted, accentuating your figure; and the train of the dress was long enough to flow behind you, but not long enough that you would trip over it.
You turn your body around in the mirror, admiring the lace-up back of the dress. For the first time in a very long time, you felt pretty.
"Alright, alright, fine. I'll admit … it is very pretty." You bite back a chuckle as Nobara claps her hands together, giddily turning to Maki and waiting for the green-haired girl to verbally approve as well.
"You do look amazing (Y/N)," Maki nods in agreement, her compliment bringing a gentle smile to your face. Nobara nods her head frantically, turning back to you and grinning again as her eyes rake up and down your figure.
The three of you pause at the sound of your front door opening and closing, followed then by your mother happily greeting whoever it was that had turned up on your doorstep. Nobara shoots you a confused look, one that you respond to with a confused look of your own.
"(Y/N)! Yuuji's here!"
You sigh, lifting your fingers to your nose and pinching at the bridge of your nose. You had completely forgotten that you had agreed to go to the arcade with Yuuji, and now here you were, standing in a prom dress even after you had told him countless times that you simply weren't going.
Nobara and Maki exchange glances, but neither of them say anything to you or each other.
"Okay! You can let him upstairs!"
The sound of foosteps approaching your door already has your blood running cold, but the expression that Yuuji wears when he opens your bedroom door makes it somehow colder.
"Oh wow (Y/N)! You look great! But I thought you said that you weren't coming to prom?" Yuuji points out, tilting his head curiously at you as he angles himself to close the door behind him. He glances then at both Nobara and Maki, neither girl answering him, leaving it completely up to you.
You clear your throat, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another as you turn to face Yuuji completely. "Yeah … I know. Nobara kind of convinced me."
"Well, that's good!" Yuuji smiles sweetly, already moving towards your desk chair and flopping down into it. "Are you going with anyone?"
You remain silent – and that's when Nobara decides to step in, noticing the uncomfortable expression that you wear at Yuuji's question.
"She's coming with me and Maki," she answers. You nod, clearing your throat as you turn to Yuuji, half-expecting him to furrow his eyebrows at you. But luckily, he smiles at Nobara's response, nodding his head and deciding not to breach the subject any further.
< … >
"There you are, where's the brat?" Sukuna asks as he approaches you, leaning against the locker beside your own. You chuckle lightly at him, tilting your head to glance up at him – oddly enough, he was already staring at you.
"Yuuji? I think he's just finishing up with the Occult Club," you answer, removing your biology textbook from your locker before pushing the metal door shut. Sukuna hums, crossing his arms and tilting his head away from you.
He looks like he wants to say something, but is conflicted on whether or not he should actually say it. You study him for a second, opening your mouth to say something.
"There you both are! I'm ready to go home now," Yuuji says brightly, waving at both you and Sukuna from halfway down the hallway. He extends his hand to you, the both of you performing the handshake that you had perfected sometime during middle school. Sukuna rolls his eyes at the both of you, kicking off of the lockers and already swinging his keys on his index finger.
"Took you long enough," Sukuna comments with a harsh roll of his eyes, though you don't fail to notice the small smirk that tugs at the corner of Sukuna's mouth. "C'mon, let's get out of here."
Yuuji nods, linking his arm with your own and lightly tugging you towards the school's exit. He grins at you as you stumble on your feet, letting out a small "Yuuji!" at his antics. Sukuna only shakes his head, following behind the both of you – keeping his distance.
"So, (Y/N), anyone asked you to prom yet?" Yuuji asks, his voice loud enough for Sukuna to hear behind him. You stand rigid in your best friend's hold, eyes flickering to his own. "Surely a girl like you got asked, right? With a big bouquet of flowers and--"
"Yuuji, stop," you say harshly, voice venomous as you push yourself out of Yuuji's arms. He glances at you, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He opens his mouth to say something, but you hold a hand up, effectively cutting him off.
"I'm not going to prom with anyone because the person I wanted to go with is interested in someone else, okay? Is that what you wanted to fucking hear?" You lift a hand to wipe at your suddenly teary eyes, sighing to yourself and shaking your head.
"(Y/N), that's not what I--"
"Forget it. I'm just gonna take the bus home," you murmur to yourself, turning and walking straight past Sukuna, not even turning to apologize when your shoulder knocks against his own. His eyes follow you, narrowed in both confusion and irritation. Even so, he makes no move to follow you …
… even though he so desperately wants to.
< … >
"I-it was so humiliating Nobara! Just … just imagine how disgusted he must be with me right now!" You throw your hands up as you continue pacing, talking through your tears as best that you can. Though it proves to be a struggle, you manage to get your point across and speak for long enough before you dissolve into tears again.
Nobara's eyes soften, gaze flickering momentarily to Maki, who only wears an expression similar to the former's. She stands, opening her arms to you. They lock around you as you all but fall into them, clawing at her back and pressing your face into her shoulder, crying quietly into the fabric of her shirt.
"He's not disgusted with you," Nobara begins, but you're quick to cut her off, only crying more. Her hand smooths up and down the length of your spine, her gaze once again flickering to Maki in the hopes that maybe she would say something … anything … to comfort you.
But just like Nobara, Maki is at a loss for words, sitting quietly on your bed and watching you promptly break down in the expanse of Nobara’s arms.
“He is! He has to be, c’mon, I totally just — just left him there!” The grip you have over Nobara’s shoulders tighten, holding her impossibly tighter as you try to comfort yourself in her arms. The attempt is futile, and in reality, it only makes you feel worse.
“I’m sure that he understands.”
“It’s Sukuna, Maki!” You pry yourself from Nobara’s arms, swallowing the growing lump in your throat and angrily swiping at the tears that cling to your waterline. You sigh, allowing your head to fall into the palms of your hands, nails digging into the sides of your head.
“Come on (Y/N),” Maki says gently, moving towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder. Her fingers squeeze at you comfortingly, a small smile curling her lips upward as you finally turn your head to make eye contact with her. “It’s a simple misunderstanding, I don’t think that Sukuna is going to automatically hate you because of it.”
You sigh shakily, allowing her to gently guide you to the edge of your bed. She pushes onto your shoulders, then sitting down beside you while Nobara sits in your desk chair — which she had pulled up to the side of the bed so that she could sit directly in front of you.
“Prom is tomorrow,” you murmur, sighing again a rubbing a hand down your face. Nobara and Maki exchange solemn looks, but neither of them say anything to one another. “And I just … maybe I shouldn’t go.”
Nobara immediately shakes her head, nearly stumbling from her seat from the force at which she leans back. Maki instinctively reaches for her, hands ready to brace the brunette if she were to fall.
“What?! After everything that we did? We got a dress, we went out and bought makeup, and we even rented a limo with everyone else!” Nobara says sharply, though her voice doesn’t hold any of the malice that you had expected it too. You knew what she was trying to do anyway, convince you by slightly guilting you into thinking that by you not being there, prom night would essentially be ruined.
You sniffle, rubbing a hand against your tear-stained cheeks. Maki reaches out, rubbing a hand against your back. Of course, she wants you to go to prom as well, but unlike Nobara, she wouldn’t sit there and guilt trip you into going. If you didn’t want to go, then it was as simple as that, you didn’t want to go.
“I-I know that, but Nobara—“
“Stop.” Nobara stands then, her hands on either side of your face and squishing your cheeks together. “We’re going to prom together, and that’s that. Got it?”
You sigh, blinking back the last bits of tears that cling to your lashes. And against your better judgement, even though you so desperately want to stay home all day tomorrow and rot …
… you nod against the skin of Nobara’s palms.
< … >
"(Y/N)! Guys!" Yuuji waves wildly from the front entrance of the school's gymnasium, lips turned upward in a wide grin as you, Nobara, and Maki approach. Standing beside Yuuji is Sukuna – who looks as though the only thing he craves at that moment is going home and vanishing for the weekend.
Uruame wasn't with him though … maybe she just hadn't arrived yet.
Nobara smiles as you all approach Yuuji, accepting his fist-bump. You turn to him as well, extending your hand at the same moment he does, the both of you performing that oh-so-elaborate handshake.
“You look nice,” Yuuji says to you, smiling. You return his smile, turning on your heel and marveling as your dress’ train lifts from the ground, creating a small circle around you as you turn. Yuuji turns then to Sukuna, whose eyes dart away as if he had been caught looking at something that he shouldn’t have been.
“Yeah … nice,” Sukuna murmurs underneath his breath. His comment brings a gentle pink hue to your cheeks, and in thanks, you nod your head at him.
“C’mon, let’s go inside!” Nobara says happily, her lips tuned upward in a smile as she reaches for your hands, tugging you towards the entrance of the gymnasium. You glance fleetingly at Sukuna, whose eyes are still fixed on anything but you — you wonder what color Uruame would wear.
Would she match him? Or would she wear a different color that complimented the one he wore?
You shake your head, bringing yourself back to reality as you allow Nobara to tug you towards the doors, her lips still turned upward in a delighted smile as she and Maki already begin nodding their heads in tune with the loud music that blares from inside of the gymnasium.
“Hey, (Y/N).”
You turn, eyebrows raised as you notice Sukuna looking at you, his body angled so that he faces you. His fingers twitch slightly, debating on whether or not they should reach out for you.
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk to you? Jus’ for a second,” Sukuna responds gruffly, clearing his throat and hoping that the dimly lit sky was enough to hide the pink color that dusted his cheeks.
Nobara, Maki, and Yuuji all exchange knowing looks, their lips all turning upwards into Cheshire-cat-like smiles. None of them say a single word as they slip through the gymnasium’s open doors, leaving both you and Sukuna at the entrance.
“Everything okay?” you ask, tilting your head at Sukuna. He swallows, shoulders tensing and hands curling into white-knuckled fists. His nails, which had always been long, are no doubt leaving behind crescent-shaped marks on the skin of his palm — what the hell had him so nervous?
He hesitates, eyes flickering momentarily to you before they look away again. “Everything’s,” he clears his throat, “everything’s fine.”
You furrow your eyebrows together, not quite believing him. You lift your arms to cross them over your chest, shifting on your foot before finally noticing a tuft of white hair in the distance. You open your mouth to comment, but something stops you.
“So … where’s Uruame?” you settle for asking, glancing up at him and teasingly wiggling your eyebrows at him. He turns to you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“The fuck are you talking about?”
“Uruame. You’re waiting out here for her aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make her walk into prom all by herself,” you turn on your heel to chastise him, pointing a finger at his chest. The crease between his eyebrows only deepens as you continue — which you take as a sign to promptly shut up.
The two of you stand in awkward silence for a moment, both of you turned away from the other in fear of what expression the other wore.
“Uruame’s not comin’ to prom,” Sukuna murmurs with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Said she wasn’t the biggest fan of parties, not that I blame ‘er.”
“Oh.”
Again, neither of you say anything to the other. You can feel your cheeks burning, and in the hopes that he wouldn’t say anything, you lift your hands to your face, covering it. He tilts his head, sighing with the smallest of smirks plastered onto his face.
“Lemme guess,” he turns to you, regaining his confidence and bending just enough so that his nose is level with your own. Your eyes widen, the pink color on your cheeks deepening at the sudden closeness. “You thought I was takin’ Uruame to prom, didn’t you?”
“N-no,” you reply quickly, your voice a high-pitched squeak. Sukuna chuckles, shifting back on his feet and crossing his arms over his chest, staring down his nose at you. “Okay, maybe.”
The taller man turns, leaning against the wall of the gymnasium and glancing at you through the corner of his eye. You shuffle on your feet, not daring to look up at Sukuna.
“That why you kept tellin’ Yuuji that you weren’t comin’ to prom?” he asks, grinning as he glances at you. “‘Cause you thought I was goin’ with Uruame?”
You remain silent — now suddenly embarrassed over your childlike reaction. To be honest, it had been petty for you to potentially throw away the entirety of your prom night over something as trivial as not having a date. But at the same time, your friends had been asked to prom by the people that they were romantically interested in — hell, even Yuuji had managed to successfully ask Megumi to prom. And that was after he had smacked himself in the face in front of his bathroom mirror.
Sukuna chuckles, leaning his head back and crossing his arms over his chest. His fingers drum against his clothed bicep, a delighted hum rumbling up somewhere in his throat as he relishes in your reactions. He clears his throat, catching your attention.
“Stupid,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out and laying it over the top of your head. You huff at him, smoothing your hands over your hair, hoping that all of the styling that you had done wasn’t ruined by Sukuna’s comically large palm.
“And that makes me stupid because?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at Sukuna. He rolls his eyes, once again leaning down to be at eye-level with you again. This time, however, you challenge his stare with one of your own — pointed and cold, though not nearly as cold as the glare situated in front of you.
“It makes you stupid because you actually thought I’d take someone other than you to prom.”
His words make you positively flush from head to toe. You stand as still as stone in front of him, inhaling sharply as he adjusts himself again. He offers his arm to you, nodding in the direction of the opened gymnasium doors.
“So then why didn’t you ask me sooner?”
Sukuna rolls his eyes, sighing. “I’m not good at that kind of stuff, but trust me, you’re the only girl that I’d have ever even considered to take to this fuckin’ thing.”
You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you slip your arm into Sukuna’s. His chest swells at the smile that you flash at him, and in a moment of bravery, he leans down to press his lips to your own.
Thank God that you had decided to go to prom.
#colonelarr0w#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jjk angst#jjk fluff#modern sukuna
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Stories about prophecies have always bugged me because they never adequately explain WHY the universe works the way it does, WHY specific events are inevitable. "It is your destiny," the fuck does that even mean? Says who? Which metaphysical/eldritch entity wrote this prophecy? How do they enforce it? If an Oracle says something, was it always going to be true or did they change the future? Is there only one future? Is the world deterministic?
Well, I've started thinking about it through a scientific lense. In a world where magic exists, it is simply another fundamental force of the universe. It can be studied and understood, and, most importantly, predictions can be made based off it. Before chemists discovered specific elements they'd look at where it would be on the periodic table, they'd look at all of its neighbors, and they would be able to accurately predict certain properties about it. "It'll be this color, this density, it'll have these stable isotopes, and'll form these types of bonds," etc. They aren't prophesying willy-nilly, they are making informed hypotheses.
An astronomer can give you the exact orbital periods of planets many lightyears away based on the mass of their host star; Kepler's Laws ring true no matter where you look. They can predict the exact time and location of eclipses a thousand years in advance. I don't know what a Higgs Boson is, but physicists knew it existed long before they ever actually observed it.
Prophecies are magical hypotheses. Prophets aren't just granted foreknowledge out of nowhere for shiggles, they simply observe the current state of the universe and extrapolate forward. If souls and chakras and mystical energies exist, their influences on the material world can be measured and accounted for. I don't understand quantum mechanics or general relativity, but I trust that scientists aren't just making shit up. I don't understand magic, but wizards aren't just making shit up either!
Some prophecies are wrong. Many, in fact. There are just too many variables, too many unknowns. Schrödinger's cat, Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, the Butterfly Effect, Chaos Theory, there would be magical equivalents. Meteorologists can tell you what the weather will look like tomorrow, but nobody knows what it'll be like in a month, a year, a century. They can tell you that Hurricane Season will have higher or lower activity than average based on ocean surface temperatures, the El Niño/La Niña cycle, etc., but they can't give you the exact dates of storm formation, strength, or duration.
I really like the idea of prophecies having varying degrees of certainty. Lines like "it is your destiny" or "it has been foreseen" aren't cop-outs, they're just predictions. If I drop a rock, it WILL fall towards the Earth; it's not destiny, it's gravity. Magic works the same way.
TLDR: prophecies are like election forecasts!
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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 their 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
#aot#attack on titan#aot x reader#connie springer#connie springer x reader#connie x reader#connie springer imagine#connie springer smut#connie smut#aot connie#ghostface#snk#aot smut#aot imagine#connie aot#jeanbie
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-ˋˏ ༻ISEKAI LIFE WITH ENHA ❁༺ ˎˊ-
Paring: Enha X m!reader
Content: Fluff, emotion, [curse words]
Isekai: reincarnated to another world as a mc for a mission
Do not copy my works
Crd to all pics÷rs
Heeseung: The day you were here, was the day of his accession. A crown prince who just became the king of his kingdom, since his father, the previous king got ill in his old age. Despite how fresh he was in this field, his father hired you as his assistant, a royal secretary, he knew that his only son could do everything but he was lacking in making decisions, and he needed some advisor to give him a path, which is you. A few years had passed, and his kingdom was doing well because they had Heeseung who was in charge as a King. But he's not doing it alone, all the royal assistants are included too, especially you. If you are not here with him, he'd make a mistake. His Nation keeps growing and developing however that's not the only thing that grows, his feelings for you are also growing. Ofc the rule can't be in love with a lower class like you but he can't stop the feeling, love is love, the fact that you're a boy, made it even worse nevertheless he doesn't give a damn about it, you make him this way, Love.
"Don't worry M/N, if I can't have you nobody will, and please don't push me away, I've loved you since the day you made my life easier, so please give me this chance to make me yours, and you're mine?" You stood on the spot, unable to open your mouth nor to make a move before a system popped out in front of you and announced "You've completed your secret quest: make King Lee fall for you!" What!
Jay: He'd be likely a Royal captain, a masculine man, who stood strong for his country, a bloody demon war who takes victory home every time. You were reincarnated into his student, a training soldier. However things are kinda complicated for you since this is back in the past, a historical world where they didn't have technology, everything was going along with tradition, religion, manners and behavior was a big problem if you did something wrong. Soon enough after half a year, you have become familiar with your life and now is a royal soldier just like what you had been trained for. You had participated in some war and gained a great experience from it which gives an impression to Jay. One day during the bloody time, Jay was in bad shape while fighting with the other captain, he couldn't move because of his wounds as a result he was on the ground right now, moving his body by using his hands. You too were in critical shape, or maybe even worse than him, blood stained all over your body, every corner however for the love of country, and to protect the captain, you're risking your life by shielding him with your body at the very last moment when the opponent drawing a sword toward Jay. A sword cut through your rib, blood dripping, but that didn't stop you, with a dagger in your hand, pressed through against your enemy too. In return them and you, fall to the ground, lifelessly. Jay's eyes wide open, speechless reaction can't even explain well before taking your body, holding you close to him. A captain never cries, but he might break this rule. He brawled his eyes out, and didn't give a fuck about his surrounding.
"Please stay with me, M/N!! you can't die you can't do that, it's my order!!" He shouted, couldn't accept what he'd witnessed rn. "I-- *coughing* have completed my mission -- my lord! My mission is to protect you at all costs, for now since you're okay I think I can close my eyes peacefully ever after... Thanks for everything Captain - Jay" "System: Mission completed!"
Jake: A cowboy from an unknown village, he's quite a popular guy in the town because of his handsome face. Every girl wanted him so badly that even their body, they can give it to Jake without hesitation. However all their doing is no effort to him, he's recently development his sexuality, and he has only a spot for men. Meanwhile, you are an odd boy, who has white hair with blue eyes in the village, which gives a reason for the people to hate on you because, at that time, something odd is what a demon does. On one fine day, while people are bullying you, throwing kinds of stuff at you, Jake suddenly appear and protects you from all those bad things before saying something to them, and they're gone in an instant. He asks if you're ok, you just reply with a dry response since you don't trust people for now. He Pause for a moment to appreciate your beauty while you reply to him, then snap out after you ask him again. He rubs his nape, asking you if you want to be his friend so he can protect you, you decide to give in and accept his request because he's the only one who cares about you. Day by day passed, he taught you about people's daily life, what should they do, what should they eat, blah blah as well as took you to a different place, the sea, the mountains, a place where you never wanted to visit before. In the end, you fail to keep your feelings and make a decision to confess your feelings to him. Under the starry night, watching the shooting star, both of you sitting beside each other, admiring the night galaxy, he doesn't say anything back once you tell him how you feel toward him. Before letting out a relieved sigh, speak.
"I've been waiting for that line for how long, I like you at the very first sight but I choose to make you confess to me first darling~" "mission: ___✓___"
Sunghoon: You and him are childhood friends, but you don't remember anything since you're just reincarnated into this boy's body which you assume, is a prince. Sunghoon is also a prince so it makes sense that both kingdoms are in a good relationship together. Soon enough, Sunghoon's kingdom is throwing a ball party, his father already has a plan, to find a suitable princess for him by doing this. Sunghoon didn't like it, to say that he freaking hate it, he don't want nobody, he don't need a wife, he don't want to start a family, he want to be free and not follow the king's path, he don't want to be a king. The queen tries to convince him, but nothing will do, he's a man of his word, whatever he spitted he'd never swallow it back. You arrived at the ball, in your nice-looking royal designer suit. You look around trying to find your childhood friend, and then suddenly someone pulls your hand before taking you away to a quiet place. You try to release yourself from this person's grip but fail eventually because of how strong he is, even his face you can't see it. When both of you reached the private place, he immediately stopped, and released your hand before turning around, revealing his face, Park Sunghoon! You question him why did he this before he kneeled and cried, at your knee. You began to panic and asked him why. Why? "Your Highness, you can't do this please stand up, if people see you like this, they might assume things!!" You speak, with your shaking voice, the feeling of scared washing all over your body. "M/n...*sobbing* my father and mother want me to get married, I... I don't wanna do this anymore, I wanted to be free, please tell me m/n what should I do!?" He continues to tear apart, you've never seen him in such a state before. "Your Highness, we can settle this in the Palace, we can't talk about something like this here!" You respond, however, it's didn't work."I don't want anyone but you, I want only you m/n! I know it's crazy to love someone who's the same sex as you but I can't help it... And please d-don't leave me ×2 you are the only one I needed the most" the last sentence when he said that, draws attention to you, making you wonder why in the world he said that. "Pardon your highness I don't understand what you're trying to say... I'm not going anywhere! I'm here" You become all sweaty, there's no way he knows who you are.
"I discovered your diary m/n I know everything, even if your mission had been completed some time ago, just please promise me you won't go anywhere, I LOVE you!"
Sunoo: Sunshine Boy would be the innocent, gorgeous, pretty face, and the son of a rich family in the town. He likes flowers, perfume, accessories, and many nice things that scream pretty! But besides his innocent looking and behavior, he had two faces, where the other one is purely evil, and got in his way, making him pissed off, in the next day there'll be a funeral in the town. However despite this personality, he does it for good, he only bullies those bad, pervert guys who take advantage of the girls. When you were doing your quest during the day, walking through the market in full black, his eyes landed on you, while he was doing his business. He thought you were one of those guys, so he began to follow you until both of you, reached the dark alley. You notice someone is following you, so you quickly hide yourself in the shadows. While he was looking for you, you suddenly appeared behind him and asked in a creepy tone why is he here. But the man was too starlet to the point he almost peed himself, so you took off your hood and revealed your face, which calmed him a little bit because of your kind-looking face or maybe not. He and you exchange information together and soon enough he realizes what you're doing, is the same as him so he wants to team up with you to take out the bad guys in the town for humanity together. You didn't deny it since it's a part of your mission too. A mission together with him every night is like a new experience with you, you get to know a lot of things in this world, how the system works and many more that have shocked you. Later on, one day after putting the bad guys in the cage, at midnight with him, both of you sitting on the clock tower, you know how huge it is. Eating your dinner while he steals a glance at you, makes you wonder after all the work with him, as a duo did he feel the same feeling you just discovered? Probably not, you thought this world was so close-minded about having a relationship with the same sex so you decided to not let any word out of your mouth even though you wanted to. Little did you know, he also felt the same way, he also found out he was drawn toward you, the word I like you is not enough to explain his love for you, he likes you... A little bit much. "M/n? Can I ask you something? Don't be mad at me ok? I'm being honest" he said, looking at the moon, that shining bright. You nod, waiting for his response. "It's crazy we've done this together many times and I feel like this part of me still wants you to be here, working with me for all the innocent live here but I think it's got a bit worse than I thought, I don't think you as a partner, I think you are more than a partner to me, more than a friend, and I'm sorry to feel this way, it's ok if you don't feel the same way, I just feel a pressure in my chest if I don't let it out-" he pauses before continuing.
"I like you m/n even though we just met a few months ago, i like you so much that I dream about it, i like you-" You couldn't bear all his heart confession and didn't want to keep him, thinking you didn't feel the same, you cupping his face before slamming your lip against his, his eyes wide open like he was just seen a ghost, then he realized what you mean before returning your kiss, smiling during the kiss. Maybe this mission isn't bad after all.
Jungwon: A young farmer boy who likes taking care of his animals and farm. He is a normal civilian just like everybody, people love him because of how adorable he looks, especially his charm, and dimples. When he discovered you lying down lifelessly on the street while he coming back home, he immediately picked you up, carried you to his house and took care of your injury. You were thankful that there are some kind people here, in this world you're assigned into You thought you would die on that street, freezing to death already but guess fate won't let you die this easy. At the time of his taking care of your sickness, he gave all his might to treat you until you recovered. Again after you have recovered, you thank him for being there for you when you were at your lowest point, and will do anything to pay back for his kindness. He smiled softly at your statement but he said it's fine, he doesn't need anything back, and he likes to see people happy. Once you hear that You just want to give him everything in the world for him, everything he wishes for, however at the moment you don't have anything with you, only yourself with his clothes on that he gives you. You have no better idea, but a hug for him is the least you can do right? You figured it out and decided to give him a tight hug, giving him all the warmth and kindness back to him. His gaze grew soft before resting his chin on your head, giving you the hug you wanted. You keep on giving him your squeezing hug until a system box pops in front of your eyes.
"Secret mission completed: you just made someone fall in love with you!"
Ni-ki: In the third POV, he would be a young pirate, despite his young age, he has been traveling across the sea for his entire life now, so his experience on the water is unstoppable and god-like. He had destroyed hundreds of hundred boats in the past few years, for now, he's the captain of his ship, a fear pirate whom everyone's Afraid of. He doesn't know what's the word rest or sleep since he always pulling all-nighters almost every single day, a part of him said he can't blink or else. In the course of fishing, his worker spotted you lying on an empty log, floating around the ocean, Ni-ki might be a heartless and cruel person but he was once in your shoes, and he didn't want to repeat it just like his ugly past, so he take you in on his ship. Later than for the last few months, you choose to work for him to survive and it's also your mission to do this too, and you didn't know for how long. It's a bit strange that your system didn't show or give information to you, therefore you don't give much care about it, it's better to be alive than die on this wide ocean. While you're staying on this ship, you like to write everything down in your diary book, even your past life and your mission here in this world you are in. One time you were drunk after drinking all the wine, and accidentally burst into the pirate's room because of your vision. You plop down on his bed, as you thought it was your bed, Ni-ki just sitting at his workplace, legs crossing, watching you intensely Before hearing your mumble words about your life and your mission. The next day, while you were moping the floor, he unexpectedly revealed himself behind you, an evil smirk growing on his face he liked teasing you. When you notice his presence, you lower your head as a sign of respect before greeting him a good morning.
"It's a beautiful morning isn't it m/n? Haa... I wish you could stay longer here with me" he spoke, trying to sound oblivious. "my lord, what do you mean by that?" You nervously respond while holding on to the mopping broom tightly. "Don't act dumb kitty, I have gone through all your dairy book, and your make-no-sense words last night when you were drunk, now that I got all the missing pieces, I finally get it, don't worry m/n! Once you step your foot here, you can't leave this ship until the day we grow old together, and Don't even think about leaving, if you don't want me to do something on you~ my sweetheart!"
🗣️ please mind my English! ><
🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥
🗣️ this is the hardest work I've done, and also I can't promise I will update tomorrow.
🗣️ CRD to all the owners of dividers.
#enhypen#enha fluff#enha x male reader#enha imagines#enha x you#kpop x male reader#heeseung#park jongseong#lee heeseung#sim jaeyun#park sunghoon#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#nishimura riki#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jay#enhypen jake#enhypen niki#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen sunoo#enhypen jungwon#enhypen scenarios#enhypen thoughts
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I'm like. spiraling.
My body hurts and it's falling apart and there's nothing wrong with it and there's no way to fix it. I'll never be able to have a normal job again. I can barely stand how am I supposed to finish college. I need help and I keep asking people to help me and that makes them uncomfortable and I'm asking too much of them. I say there is no food in my house. They say why don't you go buy food. I say I'm too disabled to drive. They say oof lol. How does oof help me. How are you not worried about me. How when I say I haven't bought food in a week or washed my clothes in a year people respond omg lol and not holy shit are you okay do you need help how are you alive. Not to be lazy or anything but I would actually literally kill for someone to hold me and say it's okay you don't have to do this alone anymore I'm going to help you. I would commit unspeakable acts of violence for someone to offer to drive me to the store. Once you're disabled you're trash you can't contribute to society just let yourself decay. I make everyone uncomfortable by just existing as myself and I ruin every event by either being visibly in pain and pulling an ugly face because my legs are about to give out or by not going because my spine is broken and I can't leave my bed. My family won't help me they don't believe me I'm not allowed to flinch or look like I'm in pain because my face is ugly when I'm in pain and I'm just faking it to get out of doing anything at all. I don't have a single support system or way to survive this shit. I'm in so much pain constantly there's not even a word for it because I can't just say it hurts nobody takes me seriously or understands just how bad it hurts. I can't say it's like a knife in my spine that sounds so fucking fake. It's like a knife in my spine and every tiny cell that moves hurts it because it's a fucking blade stuck between my bones. It's cutting and mangling my skin and muscles and everyone is like why don't you just stop having a knife in your back and the doctors say you do not have avknifevin your back and my parents say everyone has a knife in their back and you're just pretending it hurts and being lazy because you hate me. How am I still alive why am I still alive why does it just keep getting worse
#There's actually no reason for me to exist and I'm never going to get better or get help and no one will ever understand#I feel so useless and I will never be as good as my peers#Even my disabled peers live and handle themselves and manage their symptoms better than I can#I'm like not okay for real my brain is Fucked fucked#Shit like eating and pissing have become a fucking reward for me I'm not allowed to do it if I've been bad#I say good. you sit there and you hurt and you think about what you did and you think about this next time you want to act like a baby#But punishment doesn't even fucking work on me nothing works!!!!!!!!#I just like having a real tangible way to prove I can feel and I'm not making my pain up#I'm such a fucking toddler I expect to be fed with a spoon and reminded to use the potty and told when I need to take a nap#I need to be told how to shower properly and the right way to clean my house and the normal way to speak to people or think with my brain#Why am I like this. Why when I start to get comfortable with someone I pretend I'm a baby or a dog#Nobody thinks this way. What the fuck is wrong with you#Why can't I be a human. Why do I want to bark and bite people. Why does it hurt to touch people like a person would#There isn't a single normal thing about me. I'm so fucked up and awful and gross I literally need to be put down
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andrew’s definitely gotten in trouble with his pr manager for tweeting things along the lines of:
“no mania inducing medication will compare to the euphoria i will feel the day donald trump drops dead”
#pr manager is like: andrew… this is the last time i’m gonna tell you#andrew: whats the point of democracy if i can’t exercise freedom of speech#pr manager: andrew it’s no longer about your image#at this point we are concerned the fbi is going to show up#andrew: neil has connections. i’m fine#they thought marketing andrew on social media would be good#they were sooooo wrong#because now andrew has a place to share every insane thing he’s ever thought#for instance—a tweet that just says ‘an alien googling: human clothes’#he’s on there advocating for lgbtq+ youth you KNOW HE IS#he’s cursing and mildly threatening members of congress for imposing these disgusting bills#one day he tweeted ‘does mitch mcconnell know he’s dead yet’#when mitch mcconnell stepped down from senate andrew tweeted ‘hopefully next he steps down from life’#unsurprisingly: this endears him to some people and makes others fucking hate him#and he’s such a shit. he does not care either way#he’s kind of just like: pr manager. you gave me a twitter and told me to tweet. i’m just doing what you asked me#they’ve threatened to change his password so many times#they actually did once but andrew reported the account so many times for defamation and fraud that it got suspended#and he made a new account out of pure spite#his pr manager is like: andrew nobody is going to want to sign you because of your public image#and andrew is like: ?? ok. they can lose every game then#(he knows he’s the best goalie)#ok i think that’s enough for now. however i will probably be back#andrew minyard#aftg#tfc#trk#tkm#the foxhole court#all for the game
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i know hoyo is setting up rhine to have good intent and whatever in her trying to 'save' khaneri'ah or whatever; but i REALLY hope they stay with the cruel persona thats been built up for her. because it would be so wonderful to see a character who had good intent in the beginning just get absolutely corrupted; with the inability to ever go back to that prior state purely because of what had happened. also because there is NO way in her turning back after all that shit
#sorry. i dont think theres any good and plausible explanation for rhine to still be a kind or gentle person in general#she can (and SHOULD) have her moments. but it'd make so much more sense (and be much more impactful) for her to be inherently cruel#because look at all the stuff thats happened#i love the indomitable human spirit trope. dont get me wrong.#but rhine has that in the way she WONT stop her research till shes either dead or murdered. she is not gonna be gentle kind and optimistic#she watched all her kids (that she was SHOWN to care for) get very brutally murdered.#had to then go and kill her next creations that she didn't consider perfect (which most certainly fucks a women up. no matter what you say)#made the 'perfect creation' and the way she treated him was obviously a HUGE contrast to how she was before (being gentle and nuturing)#and left him (albeit with what we can guess was good intent) with NO goodbye just#a recommendation letter. a text. and his final mission#she could have good intent#and still care for others#dont get me wrong!!!!!!!#but shes. human???#humans can be (as much as i hate to say it) a tad selfish when it comes to survival#and being antagonized demonized AND shunned by teyvat and even her own people. having to survive multiple gods wrath#isn't. gonna be good for the human psych#and it isn't gonna be something fixable#look at how furina progressively faltered over a hundered years WHILE being adored#she already started waning in her ethics and morals (as someone immortalized as a human WOULD)#with exposing lyney and all of that when it was VERY clearly the morally wrong thing to do (which her as a human would know)#and being relatively pessimistic and clearly spiralling#(no hate. i love furina with all my heart.)#if thats how FURINA started going#imagine rhine who has nobody (save maybe alice. but i doubt she'd be constant given her spontaneous nature and refusal to sit still)#shit man. even I'D go crazy and be horrible.#its okay and natural to be bitter#and its not as if anybody was there to help#hexenzirkel has a ton of women who survived their own nations falling yes#but not ONE of them (from what we know) has had circumstances any where near rhine's
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footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia
#this isn’t about anything in particular btw. I just have to add a lot of memos when I’m doing things because some things are done a certain#way and it isn’t explained well in the instructions. like my mom has instructions on her baking recipes right#but when it says stuff like add dry ingredients to wet ingredients it also means you don’t dump it in one go you add it slowly by portion#this is probably why I find videos and demonstrations the most helpful when I learn something. like I almost always ask someone to show me#how they do it because there could be something they do that’s already second nature and wouldn’t really be considered in an explanation yk#I don’t think I’m an exception either. when the rice is done cooking I divide it into 4 quarters to bless it#but there are a million ways to divide rice and it makes me think that one persons way of doing it or not doing it all is just as valid#theres also technically no wrong way to divide rice afaik. this means either all ways of dividing rice is safe or valid until we find some#universally terrible way of dividing rice. until that happens nobody really thinks about specifying HOW you divide the rice#source: I have anxiety starting and doing things for the first time because I got way too many people yell at me NONONO WHAT ARE YOU DOING#THATS WRONG while I’m in the middle of doing the thing. I would rather have people think I’m either very stupid or overly specific#than go thru the panic inducing fear of ‘YOURE DOING THIS WRONG OMG WHY DIDNT YOU ASK AHEAD OF TIME THIS WILL BE FUCKED UP FOREVER’ 🧍#nothing wrong if you don’t give something a second thought because you’re so used to it. but I can and will ask about it and I don’t think I#really should feel bad about it if I don’t know enough to dispute it. idk#the other way around I try to be as specific as possible and word things in a way that people who might not get where I’m coming from will#understand. but the problem with that is my explanations tend to be lengthy and I lose them either way 🗿#Im. trying to work on that using examples and stuff because they seem to work the best#but if I could write everything down on a word doc and beam it into your melon that would save both of us time and embarassment#im rambling the short version is I have adhd#yapping
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…what dark ass corner of tiktok did that screenshot come from??
Bro batfam tiktok is so 💀💀💀 maybe I haven’t found my people yet but the way they talk about Damian vs Tim is so fucking tragic “poor Timmy 🥺” this and “dc hates tim Drake 🙄🙄🙄” that like they not only think it’s an unpopular opinion to like him over there, they think he’s written badly SPECIFICALLY to favor damian like…
#listen i love canon tim Drake#if I’m talking shit about him just assume it’s that he loves coffee everyone is out to get him version#however tim Drake fans in general?#like the way they act about him#they act like they get crucified for thinking he’s the best Robin#but whatever this ain’t about him#the point is this is the majority of my batfam fyp and I’m sick#i don’t even comment or like that’s all I get 💀#lbooster tok my beloved 🙏🏾#ok i lied tho i dont#I don’t LOVE canon tim I think he’s ok#i think he’s very very interesting#like hes fun in a what the Fuck is wrong with you I think everyone who meets you should beat you up kinda way#but he’s not like. up there for me#bottom of batfam barrel#i like it when he used to face the consequences of his actions and arrogance#but i feel like they just wanna veer towards ‘he’s the SMART one and he’s always right but nobody listens 💔💔💔😭😭😭😭’#and in Gotham war specifically#like IK theyre fucking with everyone but I’m biased against tim so it made me dislike him more#one of my#mutuals called him a wishy washy mf and I’m still dying
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I don’t really care about shipping THAT much but honestly a lot depends on what about a pairing makes you like it. what about it draws you in, what doesnt, and why you want to change that thing. what it would become if you changed that thing, what changing that thing would do to it.
I saw a post about zukka the other day where OP was groaning about how many ppl make zuko into a babygirl for his long hair while acting like sokka is this hypermasculine hunter type, despite so much of his character deals with themes of inadequacy and wanting to make people around you proud/ take you seriously. also him liking shopping and arts&crafts and into theatre and writing poetry. OP said something like ‘it becomes about the viewers desire to fit a character to their own tastes, without considering who the character actually is’ which is such an eloquent way of putting it!
so when it comes to messing around with identities via ships its like… playing with gender and shit is fun! its good to explore and mess around and try things. if your outlet is through your favorite characters, hey, go nuts. but I think its really important to look at the way we feel and consider why we feel that way.
literally whenever i sit down to write something i go ‘okay. is this for me to be self indulgent and ooc. or is this to be faithful to the characters as they exist as narrative tools’ basically am i writing for Me or am i writing for Them. and i do both! but it just comes down to that I dont like taking characters out of the context of their stories too much. im a firm believer of ‘liking something because of something, not despite it’, so when it comes to m/f ships its like. okay well why am I drawn to this over a gay ship. do I think ‘damn i wish this was gay’ or is the fact that its mf add a little flavor. for me its all about the flavor
#THIS ISNT DIRECTED AT THAT ANON their ask spurred my thinking on the subject more but they didn’t say or do anything wrong#i think a lot of ppl who follow me/are into pnat rn are younger so if ur having fun theres nothing wrong with that#and you arent bad for exploring. have fun make ur favs trans stick parts of yourself in them. these are just things to start thinking about#anyway re: that last paragraph i *have* written SO many ‘for me’ snippets like im not on a high horse here#but i do keep those to myself. there are the ‘heehee i will never let these see the light of day [mentions it sometimes]’ stories#that are like bursting with desire for Some kind of outlet even if i dont want an audience necessarily#and then there are ones that the entire Point is that nobody sees them but me. i can do whatever i want because its For Me. itll never see#the light if day because i have zero desire for it to be considered or known of by anyone outside my brain#my point here is if ur just having fun to have fun then have fun#but with my indulgent stuff i dont even try to pass it off as the characters in any way other than name and general appearance#like those are functionally ocs at that point. im just using them as puppets to tell a story i want to tell#whereas with stuff i show publically or keep privately but think about more#i am VERY ‘he would NOT fucking say that’#because im focusing on the CHARACTERS!!!!!!! MY FOCUS IS THE CHARACTERS!!!!!!! THEMSELVES!!!!! NOT WHAT I WANT THEM TO BE!!! WHO THEY ARE#im still typing its like 3am i gotta sleep. bye heart emoji
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Need to write a call out for myself, I am anthropomorphising the shit out of this AI.
#I feel like a teacher reading it the riot act you can't just not translate something because you didn't feel like it you lazy bastard#Homework related so can't expand but honestly it's almost endearing the way it seems to fuck up sometimes because it just#hit a brick wall and turned into that scene from the Good Place where Janet keeps handing Michael cactuses instead of the files he wants#Look I have been there when an assignment is due and you just think 'nobody will notice if I just... skip over this part'#But that's not your fucking job you little shit (affectionate- and that's a problem)#Unfortunately this nonsense has also forced me to adopt what I call my 'Gladstonian style'#Which is when something is so obviously wrong but I don't know how to explain how wrong it is in simple language#So I start typing/speaking like an absolutely ancient Victorian guy#And use about 400 words where one would do#I already feel sorry for the person who has to mark this
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i'm sorry, did i fucking miss something bc why are people throwing around the r-slur all willy nilly like it's this hot new trendy word? it's a goddamn slur. like, did i somehow make that up?? or did some of you stop maturing in middle school??? is it somehow Fucking 2009 all over again??? grow up!
#jesus christ seeing that word in Any Context makes me incredibly fucking mad like what the hell is wrong with you??#whatever respect i have for a person vanishes immediately if they suddenly drop that word into a conversation#i swear it dipped in online usage for a number of years now bc i figured everyone was on the same page that you don't use that word anymore#unless it's on fucking idk. 4chan or some edgy nobodies website. some subreddits maybe#i honestly don't think i've seen the r-slur this often on TUMBLR DOT COM since probably 2013. and even then it wasn't fucking a lot#like sometime btwn the last few years i've seen an uptick on sites that i've been on for years now. WHAT is going on?!?!#it genuinely makes me upset. there is no way you're so EnLighTenEd that you've now got blanket permission to use that word. freak.#rambles
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you know, i appreciate the work Susan Sontag has done for people appreciating Camp and stuff but i feel like if you are still using Susan Sontag as the authority on Camp in the year of your lord 2023, using notes that were written in 1964, as if the landscape of art and our relationship to art hasn't fundamentally changed since then,,, it's like, you need to catch up babes, a lot of those points are still really relevant, i'm not saying throw it out, but like update your understandings of Camp beyond that one authoritative text that's at this point almost 60 fucking years old. Susan Sontag is not the fundamental authority on what art today is or would be considered Campy, build off of those basics, please dear gods, evolve your understanding of what Campy art today actually looks like rather than trying to apply a prescriptive label from a text that can kinda boil down to 'Camp is whatever you feel like, and you'll know it when you see it because it won't be like traditional art' because the attempt to define it is so wide, calling every non-traditional piece of art campy is fucking pointless and not how anyone is obviously using the fucking label, people are very deliberately talking about one specific feeling they get from the piece of art, and it's got very little to do with aesthetics, at least as far as TV shows are concerned (movies are a different conversation), and much more about presentation and tone and intended effects and what the whole fucking point of the piece of art actually is, which is a lot more than what is afforded to most things considered Campy, like 90% of the shit people call campy at this point is just called campy and then it's left there, because it's a "oh you can't say anything about it because it's campy" like at this point it almost functions as a conversation ender because anyone you're talking to about any aspect can just go "yeah that's meant to be that way, it's campy" and it's like. okay, where do we go from here? should the piece of art not be analyzed as a work of art? does it not deserve to be evaluated in good faith and treated like any other piece of art? i understand the urge to defend the use of the term, as like "oh we're using it because people are misunderstanding art and what it's trying to be", and as a Riverdale-truther (as in genuinely love it as a piece of art and what it says and does, it's not fucking campy i swear to god, none of you fucking know what pulp art is!), and as a TASM2 truther (best Spidey movie after ITSV, and definitely best general movie after ITSV, and i don't care what your opinion is) i understand the urge to want to defend it as camp, but like, what's the piece of art actually doing and trying to say, what are the deeper layers at play? or are you really just satisfied saying something is Campy and stopping your analysis of the piece of art there? is your soul really okay correcting someone's interpretation of a show and saying it's campy and not doing anything beyond that? what does it being campy actually change? what the fuck does it actually do for the piece of art, if the piece of art is even campy at all?
#yes i am in fact Riverdale-posting bc i saw a video essay calling Riverdale campy and talking about Susan.#james talks#anyone that tries to say 'Riverdale is good because it's bad' or 'Riverdale is supposed to be bad' is my mortal enemy actually#james rambles#DON'T READ THIS I JUST NEEDED TO GET THE THOUGHTS OUT#yes i am in fact aware i am using camp as a prescriptive label when i say don't call Riverdale campy. you're so smart. thanks for noticing!#if the implication wasn't fucking clear my point is that saying it's campy and meant to just be entertaining is doing a huge disservice—#to the actual piece of art and treating it like it's not actually trying to say and be something.#you don't have to drag people over to your side inch by inch to open their eyes! just spill your perspectives onto the floor!#the world will catch up with you someday!#you don't have to do the work of getting people to see something as campy to try to get them to see the show through a different light!#it's not even efficient bc like i said it just becomes a conversation ender bc the implication is that the analysis is inherently wrong—#because it's misunderstanding the intent in why some part of something is the way it is but like! you don't have to waste your energy—#trying to correct people (don't even try it. i am in fact deeply self aware.)!#spend more of your time trying to explain why you think it's good instead of complaining about how nobody else fucking gets it.#i get that you want more people to see what you see but that doesn't come from trying to inch them over the line bit by bit!#it comes from explaining your view and understanding of the show!#you don't have to try to convince them it's campy! just actually analyze the fucking piece of art & the people interested will flock to it!#also it's been years since i've actually read notes on camp so it's likely i've got some shit wrong bc i'm not fact-checking this rant.#but like the point isn't even really about the text but how other people use it.#and yes i'm aware this sounds inherently contradictory and incoherent. thank you for noticing. welcome to human existence.#to quote (paraphrase) Vivian Strange tho: if it exists it deserves to be analyzed.#treat every piece of art like it's worthy of analysis and respect and this goes from your fucking godfathers to your sharknados.#it goes from your fucking shawshanks to your mamma mia! to your Riverdale to your PLL to your euphoria to your whatever#anyway just really exhausting to hear people say something is Campy or meant to be bad or whatever and just stopping the convo there.#like what now girlie? where do we fucking go from here? do you have anything meaningful to contribute?
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long work day today but in my heart of hearts i'm drawing chine in a dress having a great time, because, gender i guess.
no alterations to their appearance otherwise, maybe somebody's convinced them to wash their hair, but only for the sensory experience of having some bounce to it afterwards, y'know?
i just..am ruminating on how good it feels to be so incongruous with people's expectations without any fear at all? or more, even, with the sense of power that comes from frightening cis people when you yourself are confident in your safety?
not even a hint of chine being embarrassed about it, just straight to the joy - slap a few flowers in their shitty beard and dare somebody to say something <3
#idk my headcanon with chine re:gender is not so much about gender at all#more in that they're a he/they because their relationship with humanity is tenuous#and any bleed into gender is secondary#but like boundaries are fluid and/or meaningless to them so why would he give a fuck what clothes ppl think he should wear#also i'm projecting because i scared a man out of the bathroom last week and instead of having a panic about it i felt this huge wave of#gender euphoria?#this could only happen at work because i've been here 10 years and everyone is habituated to me#and because i dont go anywhere in public much anymore since covid#so most of my experiences with unfamiliar people is that nobody reacts to me wearing a dress anymore?#so when a new hire did react it was a surprise?#and the realization that it was a surprise felt SO POWERFUL#god i just love being visibly trans#i want to depict obviously-testoserone-dominant people in flowy comfortable clothes without makingany effort to look traditionally feminine#this is the height of gender for me#and i know the table friends tend to depict worlds in which clothes aren't gendered anyway#but the incongrousness can come from folks associating dresses with delicacy (also wrong) instead if you want to imagine the world that way#i prefer my fantasy with a side of real-world struggle so that the payoff feels more worth it personally but to each their own
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pop quiz what breed of childhood trauma borne neuroticism is it called when being condescended to on just the most neutral, limpid, nothing thoughts you express like you’re a little silly child, or “out of your depth”, or woefully misinformed, or just speaking on something you shouldn’t cause fuckin hell you’re doing it *wrong*, and with the most plainly obvious remark too, makes you want to chew on your own arm until you reach bone marrow
#i hate internet discourse i hate internet discourse i loathe online Big Fandom it makes me come out in hives#i'm not stupid. i'm NOT stupid. i know this. i'm not being mean and nasty and bitchy either. just saying shit wrong.#siiigh i don't want to just stop making shit and like speaking. about stuff. on the internet. but like also. why would you?#there are exceptions (who i hope would recognise themselves if not i apologise) but largely i am more miserable#and more self destructive more regularly since stepping out of anonymity and engaging with people online#except animal crossing. like everyone i've interacted with through acnh has been. really Nice tbh. which is nuts lol#the stories you hear are almost universally bad and yet everyone i've chatted with albeit briefly has been so nice#i get anxiety over whether or not some stranger i'm never gonna meet thinks i'm an imbecile or not like how stupid is that? it's ridiculous#my self esteem has somehow gone backwards???#it don't fuckin matter! proving a relative nobody wrong and keeping her in her place don't matter! i mean it's daft but what's the point#and i know i need to internalise that i KNOW but damn it's hard#i want to just say fuck it and leave. become like a fandom esque zombie or whatever. but i also want autonomy over what i've produced now#unless i just delete all that too ig#but why should i!!#i go through this cycle every month it's like having an extra self-loathing hormone#if you're super attached to something w my username on it just download it for yourself you have my blessing give urself peace of mind lol#in principle i want to ghost and all of a sudden i'm am unperceivable and none of it's my damn problem any more lmao#but then i'm too bullish and prideful and egotistical so i'm like 'bbbut my seven tumblr followers who always like my silly text posts uwu'#i'm the dw in this scenario. the sign says 'just leave you're a nuisance' and i'm looking right at it like 'he he. no <3'#even if just doing what the signs says would definitely go some way to help with not wanting to just perish. or the arm chewing thing.#i just. simply. think. i would like to know. what it is i have done specifically#i know the answer is somewhere between nonexistent and nonsensical like it's not worth thinking about#what i've done is exist in a way that is arbitrarily deemed stupid/distasteful/ugly/deviant/noisy/irriating/etc it's irrelevant#and yet. there is a burning black void of needing to know in me. anon hate get into my dms tell me why you dislike me so#nothing is scarier. is the phraseology#like a game of wackamole with every utterance. is this one gonna get bapped with the hammer of 'you are so wrong'? why? does it matter?#who knows....it is a mystery......#i matter so little! i have 50 followers! two (2) ppl read the fanfic and thought it was 'aight! i don't matter! i am such a tiny fish!#what is even the point just leave me be no one cares!#i *could* redirect this hysterical existential horror energy into my original work. i *should* do that
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i am having a great time here on life dot com
#/s#i only ate a scrambled egg today; i couldnt finish it and i feel sick#something else happened today that just showed how this girl is even more manipulative. how did you turned out like this.#or maybe you were ALWAYS like this and youre just showing your true nature now? how i didnt realized this before? we were friends for years#and honestly at this point i would say whatever ruin your life; nobody is going to stay that long around you like we did.#but you have A WHOLE ASS CHILD. A 4 NEARLY 5 MONTHS OLD BABY THAT DEPENDS TOTALLY ON YOU!!!!#STOP BEING SO SELFISH!!!! AT LEAST THINK ABOUT THE SON YOU CLAIM TO LOVE!!!!#maybe im exaggerating but i feel betrayed by someone i saw as a sister + i saw her son as a nephew.#i already lost a 11 years friendship last year why is this happening to me again. and is ending in a horrible way#sorry that the rest of the group dared to still do friend stuff even after you became a mom and thus became unable to do certain things now#i *get* it; you feel envious. but we cant stop our lives just because YOURS changed. we told you multiple times we love you and your son#we love when you bring him with you because we love him; and two of us dont even like kids that much. we were excited the whole pregnancy#we supported you because we can imagine how difficult being a young; single mom is. we did that because youre important#but we committed the horrible sin of doing things without you; because you yourself said you couldnt and/or dont want to go#we committed the horrible sin of still being friends with each other and eventually bring in another friend#whom we tried for you to get along; but it didnt happened and were in the wrong for still hanging out with him.#we tried to talk about you feeling excluded from the group; but you only told us 'i dont know'; because if you directly said#'i dont like that you three have a social life together without me even when im literally unable to follow your steps now because im a mom'#you would sound extremely selfish. and you know what? you are. i get missing the stuff youre not able to do now being a mom; its normal#but its not a fucking excuse to try to destroy the rest of the group. i love how youre pretending to be the victim in this case#by saying 'oh [x] said she felt uncomfortable with me she doesnt want to be friends with us anymore :((' when its not what happened#she said the problem is YOU; not the rest of us. she told you the problems she has with you; we saw the fucking convo#and youre twisting her words to make her look like the attacker. plus trying to make us think she also wants to stop being friends with us?#literally not whats happening. you think were just going to take your word anyway and not ask her about it?#even when breaking a friendship out of nowhere is pretty important? were just going to go 'oh [x] is a bitch' without asking anything.#also we know now she has been your punching bag for so long. we saw convos and your recent attitude towards her confirm it.#anyway youre a fucking selfish manipulator who cares about things going her way only. and were seeing it now#well; i guess at least it means were aware of your true nature; even if we feel betrayed for how long you pretended towards us#things are going downwards and is literally your fault#negative
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