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izukuwus · 3 days

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I don't think we can put this in the sports column (NSFW) - karasuno/reader

m.list - read on ao3

A/N: wrote this months ago. didn't edit it for ages bc I thought it would suck to edit. it didn't suck to edit it fucking rocked and I'm never questioning myself again hell yeah

Summary: You infiltrate Karasuno's volleyball club for the university paper and take to bed a few of the rumors you've heard.

Warnings: smut, orgy/gangbang, oral sex, fingering, handjobs, double penetration, spitroasting, creampies, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, uhhhhh marking, exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism, overstimulation, light dom/sub stuff (submissive reader), uhhhhhh there's. there's a lot going on here guys. I wasn't fucking around when I said karasuno gangbang.

Word count: ~7000

It’s the night before your first game since you started this little investigation, and you are pressed flat against the wall outside the gym, a hand firm against your mouth in a desperate attempt to not make a noise.

There’d been rumors, sure. And yeah, you were here to investigate those rumors.

Karasuno is such a good team. They’ve gotta be doing some crazy shit to be that close and play that well, though.

That had been the… family-friendly version of the rumors. The more salacious of them had gone into detail you’d blushed too hard to repeat—images of working out issues with clothes off and loud gasps and—

Okay, chill. You’re a journalist. This is nothing.

(Okay, you’re a journalism major, technically speaking. But you need to get used to these things. It’s not like you’ve never had sex before.)

You had enmeshed yourself in the Karasuno University volleyball team after picking up the scent of those rumors about a month ago. Most of the rumors, you thought, were too stupid to entertain. It’s not like they were actually partaking in witchcraft to win games. That would be completely stupid. You assumed, honestly, that they had just clicked. Yeah, it didn’t really seem like everyone got along—the freshmen were constantly at each other’s throats, the captain had his hands full reigning in half the team comprised of spitfires, and there was at least one guy who seemed to believe his job on the team was to piss off as many of his teammates as possible. The only ones safe seemed to be the seniors and the girls, of which there were three if you counted yourself.

So far, it had seemed to be that there was no version of the rumor that was true—no, there were no blood sacrifices, yes, they did sometimes sleep, no, there were no crazy orgies in place to encourage team bonding, and no, they did not seem to be some sort of micro-cult. Disappointing for your article though it was, they had welcomed you in with almost no resistance, and you had found nothing out of the ordinary. They were just… normal athletes. Maybe a bit more passionate than most, but… normal.

Except. Except.

Here you are, the night before they have a match, listening to wet squelches and distinct slaps and what is undoubtedly moaning, unable to figure out exactly who the moans are coming from except that there’s definitely more than two people involved in whatever’s happening inside that gym, and fighting back the urge to peek through the cracked door and figure out exactly what the fuck is going on. (Or, uh, who the fuck is getting it on.)

Fuck. Are they seriously… seriously fucking in the gym right now?

There’s the burning shame of having caught them. The absolute mortification of knowing that you’re sitting there listening to them have sex with reckless abandon. You should be uncomfortable, but instead, you catch yourself squeezing your thighs together.

A particularly loud moan catches you off guard, and you jerk your finger from your mouth—when had you started biting it to keep quiet?—and flee while you still have the chance.

(As far as anyone else is concerned, when you’re safe within the confines of your single-person dorm room, there’s no proof to say that you snaked a hand down your pants, still thinking of that brightly-lit gym, of the idea of having been caught listening to them, of being pulled inside and—

There’s no proof.)

The day-to-day doesn’t change. You don’t let it. The guys played their match, and they won, and it was great. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling as they won, and your report for the sports column of the university paper was more than glowing. They’re a really fun team to watch, more so now that you know them—even if you’re now taking every effort in your head to not act like a total freak around them.

Honestly, you even think you're doing a pretty good job of it. You pretended not to notice the smell in the gym the morning after The Event—faint though it was, there was undeniably the hint of sex still in the air—you forced down any errant thoughts around them, and you didn't breathe so much as a word to anyone about it. What does it matter if they're having orgies or whatever the night before a game? What does it matter at all?

Luckily, you spend more time talking to the girls than anything—Shimizu and Yachi are becoming fast friends with you, you think out of an eagerness to have another girl around in a large group of guys. They're easier to talk to, too, since you don't recall hearing any particularly feminine moans during The Event. It's possible they have no idea. Possible that they, too, think things are normal. (Or else, they're the source of the orgy rumors, but neither seems much like the type.) They tell you innocuous little things about the team, like that time Hinata and Kageyama were so focused on their little rivalry that they ran clear to the next town before realizing they'd lost the rest of the team, and you get caught up in much-needed girl talk when you go out to eat together. Little debates on birth control, on dating, on whether or not that one psych professor can get it.

By the time the next game rolls around, you've nearly re-assimilated into the concept of a normal life. It’s really not a big deal, anyways—people have sex. It’s normal.

“Well, [name],” Daichi says towards the end of practice one day, about a week before. “You were only going to be here for a few weeks, right? How have you liked it?”

You nod, polite smile decorating your lips. “It’s been really enjoyable! It’s a bit sad that I won’t be around after the next game, honestly. You guys are really fun to be around.”

“Hmm?” Tsukishima says, an eyebrow raised your way. At some point, you seem to have captured the attention of everyone in the room, though you’re not quite sure what you did. You can sense their eyes on you though—a few of the more open guys stare, a few of the more polite ones glance out of the corners of their eyes. You’re stuck in the spotlight as Tsukishima takes a step towards you.

Why does one step suddenly feel so dangerous?

“You know, I’m sure no one here would stop you if you decided to stay.”

Yeah, your blood’s running cold. You get a firm grip on your brain in hopes of not horribly misinterpreting everything that’s going on, but—

“You confirmed the information you were looking for, right? Two weeks ago, hanging around outside the gym before the game.”

Ah.

Your face isn’t sure whether it wants to go pale or erupt in a furious blush. You, for your part, scramble for an answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? Are you that dense, or are you lying to us?”

A tiny squeak passes from your throat. “W-what’re you—“

“I was expecting something to show up in the school paper by now, but instead we just got a glowing column about how well we played the next day. Not a word of it. Why is that?”

“Oi, Tsukishima, aren’t you laying it on a bit thick?” one of the others says.

“It’s fine,” he replies, looking down at you as you look down at the floor. “Well, [name]? I’m waiting, Miss Reporter.”

The words burn a path down to your crotch, and you are absolutely not losing here, not now. You’ve just decided that. You meet his eye with a determined look. “I run the sports column, not the gossip column, Tsukishima. It hardly matters to me what you guys are getting up to—“

“You’re blushing, though. And you had to have heard before getting wrapped up in this, right? I’m comfortable speaking for everyone here when I say you can really find out the truth, if you want.”

“H-huh?”

He’s boxed you in, your back hitting the wall. Nowhere to run.

“What do you say? Wanna become an honorary member of the volleyball club?”

A sound sort of reminiscent of a boiling kettle leaves you, and you shove him away before you register it. “P-please give me time to think about it!”

A heavy silence.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s try not to scare the poor girl, yeah?” Suga says. He places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If she wants to, she wants to, and if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. [name], if you wanna go for the day, you can.”

“I, um…”

He nods and guides you towards the door. Before you can properly escape, he leans in close: “if you do decide you want to, come see us after practice Friday night and we’ll initiate you. If not, we’ll respect that, okay?”

Initiate.

Friday night.

You swallow, throat feeling suddenly dry.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

You spend the week caught between a rational panic and another emotion you are not willing to put a name to. Yachi had texted you not long after your escape that night, an apology and a really genuine “no one will be mad if you don’t show Friday”. That was relaxing, just slightly, except the little pang as you realized you actually did want to show. You’ve had a text back drafted to her the past three days, glaring back at you as you agonized over your phone screen:

No problem at all! I just had one question about what this “initiation” would entail. You know, to prepare myself!

You’re pretty sure you’ve deleted and re-drafted the exact same text about fifty times. Normally, you’d text a friend, ask them to help you review what you’re saying to make sure it sounds chill, but who the fuck are you going to tell about this? The implication was clear. Freaked out as you are, you’re not exactly interested in spreading the information, either.

Friday morning is when you actually do get the guts to send it, having spend the week pointedly avoiding everyone, volleyball-related or otherwise. The final draft:

Sorry for being a little AWOL! Had some thinking to do, lol. I just wanted to ask what I can expect if I did show up tonight? You know, so I’m prepared?

She’d responded immediately—not with a text, but with an email and a call, the call coming through less than a minute after you’d gotten a notification of an email from her.

Somehow, your morbid curiosity on what you should know before showing up, if you chose to, turns into an hour-long phone conversation turns into sitting down with an open notebook turns into you reviewing the document she’d emailed you, freshly showered while Yachi goes through your closet.

“You wanna wear something sexy, but kinda cheap. Sometimes they get a bit too excited. After the first time, you don’t really have to participate in this stuff, if you’re busy or just not up for it, but especially for this first time, don’t give them the opportunity to wreck any clothes you care about.”

You nod, make a note on your open notebook, thighs squeezing together impatiently. She emerges from your closet, a bright look on her face as she holds up a miniskirt you’d long since relegated to the very back. “This is a cute skirt! It’s a really strong candidate.”

“Do you think so?” you cringe. “Honestly, I’m worried it might be a bit… y’know, short.”

“[full name].” She gives you a flat look. “You do understand what’s happening tonight, right?”

“…right. I’ll wear the skirt.”

She brightens up in an instant. “Good! Now let me find a matching top…”

When she’s satisfied, your outfit laid out and you almost mentally prepared to actually get dressed for this sort of thing, you expect her to leave the room, but she simply waits.

“Uh, Yachi, I need to…”

“I just thought of something,” she says, face blank. “[name], have you ever been with a girl before?”

Ah.

Your cheeks feel hot. You’ve not exactly tried to hide that you’re bisexual—if nothing else, the bi pride flag on your wall would be indicator enough—but as far as actual experience with girls…

“I’ve… thought really hard about it…? I haven’t really had the opportunity.”

She nods to herself. “Right. Before you get ready, it’ll be easier if I do this now.”

Her lips are on yours before you can fully process it, soft and tasting faintly of pineapple chapstick. She kisses you long and slow, lets you relax into it. When she pulls away, she smiles shyly, like she didn’t just kiss you for the purposes of prepping you for an orgy she’ll be involved in later today. “There. Get that first out of the way before we have to make out in front of the volleyball team.”

She waves on her way out of your bedroom. “Get dressed! I wanna make sure that outfit works for today.”

Right. Get dressed.

Well, if nothing else, you’re definitely sure about being bisexual now.

If not for Yachi, you would have backed out a hundred times already. As it is, she keeps a gentle, reassuring hand on your back as the two of you enter the gym, a good few minutes after the usual practice officially ends. They’ve already finished cleaning up everything from the day, the air already seemingly charged even before the part where they notice you’ve actually shown up.

Yachi closes the door behind you with a sweet smile. “We got her!” she cheers by way of greeting.

The eyes that suddenly land on you—all fourteen pairs, including Yachi—seem heavier than usual. Hungry. You can’t help the nerves that threaten to make you tremble at the promise of what’s to come.

But there’s Yachi again, ever-sweet and cute as she wraps an arm around your side.

“Oh, I see that!” Daichi is the first to say. “Glad to see you’ve decided to join us, [name]. Here I thought we’d scared you off for good!”

You giggle nervously. “Well, I just… you know me! Always gotta over-think things.” That’s good. That’s casual. You’re managing an almost-even tone while you talk. Almost like you’re a normal, real human person.

“I know the feeling,” Asahi sighs.

Suga sets down a chair near the center of the gym, eyes watching you in silent interest.

“I’m guessing since you came with her that you’ve been coaching her, Yachi?”

She nods. “She’s had the whole rundown. Knows what to expect and everything.” She unwinds herself from you in preparation for whatever’s to come next. You try not to jump at the sound of the lock on the door clicking shut.

“Good. Good.” Daichi nods. “Come sit, [name]. No sense in putting it off, right?”

You nod slowly, timidly stepping forward. Yachi follows close behind.

“Limits?” Daichi asks firmly. “Loud enough so we all hear you.”

Another laugh from you, shaky with nerves as you perch on the chair Suga set out for you. You rattle them off, having memorized the list in order for this exact moment. Knowing you, you’d forget something otherwise, and you nearly do.

“Got it. And Yachi told you about the stoplight system?”

“She didn’t really need to,” you admit, a bit quieter. “I’ve got it.”

“Good. Shimizu, Yachi, if you’d get her ready? Ladies first, and all.”

Wordlessly, they descend on you. You were expecting… you don’t know. Not the sudden press of lips, familiar from an hour or two prior, against your own, or Shimizu’s arms so quick to drape over your shoulders from behind. You press your lips back against Yachi’s insistently, perhaps a bit excited, perhaps just trying to get yourself into the right headspace before you think too hard about the twelve guys currently watching you be sandwiched between the girls or Shimizu’s delicate fingers unbuttoning your top.

Your head spins with it already—Shimizu’s perfume, Yachi’s chapstick. Shimizu’s hand pushing your hair out of the way, her lips attaching to your neck gently. “You didn’t mention anything about marks in your limits,” she mumbles against your skin as a little whine escapes you. “Can we take that to mean it’s okay to mark you, or should I be careful?”

Yachi pulls away a bit, and you chase her lips. She pushes you back with a giggle. “She asked you a question.”

“Oh. Right.” You blink owlishly as you play back the question in your head. “Uh, yeah. I mean—it’s—it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? A few of the guys are not going to let up if they know that.”

Despite the exhibitionist dream going on right now, you don’t quite have the strength to admit that you quite enjoy the marks, actually, so instead: “I’m sure.”

“Alright.” Then, both pairs of lips are back—suckling your neck, kissing you until you’re out of breath. There’s no hurry, none at all, and you barely notice when your top is discarded completely, barely even notice the chatter of the guys bickering—when you strain, you just barely figure out that they’re deciding something about who gets a turn with you when.

You try not to shudder too hard at the thought.

Yachi slides a hand up to your bra and underneath it, rolls a nipple between her fingers. Shimizu follows up, finds your wrist and guides your hand beneath Yachi’s waistband to palm at her heat. “Have you ever…?”

You part from Yachi again, shake your head, eyes half-lidded and head swimming as you look up into the gym lights. “Hadn’t gotten the chance before—before today,” you admit.

She huffs a gentle laugh in your ear. “I’ll teach you, then.”

Her hand slides up your thigh, up your skirt. Yachi crawls into your lap, arms around your neck for stability as Shimizu’s fingers find your cunt, already wet. “It’s not that different from taking care of yourself,” she murmurs as two delicate fingers, too pretty to be where they are right now, stroke your slit. “Follow my lead, okay?”

You nod, whining when her fingers find your clit.

She teaches you in gentle, fluttery strokes. You lose track of it all quickly—your fingers buried in Yachi, thumb dancing over her clit as she leans over your shoulder to kiss Shimizu. You find it’s not that hard to adjust, and with every breathy gasp you draw from Yachi, you’re well rewarded by the slender fingers pumping into your cunt.

Needy and slipping into the mythical subspace you’ve only had the pleasure of reading about, you lean forward to plant your lips on Yachi’s neck. “No marks,” she sighs to you. You whine and move on, not letting yourself linger long enough to mark her skin. Seeming pleased with your listening, Shimizu slides a third finger inside you, stretches you out carefully.

“You’ll thank me later.”

She works you up so easily. Is it because you’re pressed between two pretty girls? Is it the ravenous eyes raking over this scene? Or—

Her hand retreats too soon, just as your hips had begun to really move with the friction, and you whine.

“I promise you’ll get there. Just hold on for now, okay?”

You nod, pouting at having been edged, and focus on the way Yachi writhes on your lap.

She’s close, too, you realize.

“So pretty,” you whisper in awe at the look on her face: eyes closed, head tilted back, lips parted just slightly. “You’re so pretty.”

Ah. Clearly she likes the praise, because she flutters around you. You work her more urgently, the wet squelches from your fingers buried in her joining the hushed moans and sighs of the team watching. When she cums, it’s a soft, quiet moan that you could honestly get used to hearing. Her walls flutter ceaselessly around your fingers as she leans down and kisses you again, and you’re sure not to stop until she slumps a little, though, truth be told, your wrist is already sore.

When she climbs off your lap, legs a bit shaky and a sweet, dopey smile on her face, she backs away, exiting the fray entirely. You nod in understanding. The goal, as she’d made very clear, is to make everyone cum at least once, and she’s gotten her fill. Shimizu takes your chin in her hand, tilts your face so she can kiss you, too. After a moment, you pull back. “Um—can I… my wrist… I don’t think I can…”

God, you’re already stupid. By the time you’ve gotten to everyone, you’re gonna be completely brainless, aren’t you?

She nods, helps you out of the chair only to sit you on your knees in front of her, having taken her place. She’s sweet and perfect on your tongue when you eat her out, paying careful, deliberate attention to her clit, and she instructs you in a low tone as she pets your head. It’s a blessing to be between her thighs, a blessing for her to be the first girl you’ve ever eaten out, a blessing to be allowed to draw a quiet moan from her when at last she cums on your tongue.

“Good,” she murmurs to you with a smile when you pull away, cheeks and chin wet with her slick. “I think you’re ready for us to pass you off. Will you be good for them, too?”

You nod, smiling dreamily. She looks over your shoulder and nods before standing and straightening herself out.

Three of your loyal watchers step forward. Seems like the seniors get you next.

You sit nervously, wait for… orders? Guidance? Anything?

You feel like you’re being circled by sharks, honestly. One of said sharks laughs, angelic, and you yelp when Suga’s hands come to rest on your waist. When had he joined you on the floor?

“You’re already tense again. Come on, relax a bit, [name].” His thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips. “See, Asahi’s gonna get nervous, too, if you act like that.”

Daichi pushes Asahi forward, a stern look on his face. Suga pushes you forward, too, until you’re nose to Asahi’s crotch and the prominent bulge in his shorts. “Go on. You took such good care of the girls, and it’s our turn now. Go ahead and open for him.”

You let your mouth hang open. You can be obedient. You can be good.

The bulge in Asahi’s shorts jumps a little as he looks down at you. You’re already deep in this, might as well go all-in—you paw at the waistband of his shorts, waiting for his nod of approval. When you receive it, you grab the shorts and his boxers and pull them down in one swift motion, swallowing thickly when you see the size of the thing.

If all the guys on the volleyball team are this hung, you’re going to be very, very sore in the morning.

You close your eyes, lean in. If you just keep your eyes closed, you don’t have to think about the guys watching you with varying levels of interest, don’t have to think about performing. You stroke him at the base, take as much of his cock into your mouth as you can handle. He lets out a soft groan as you begin to bob your head, and again you feel those hands on your hips. You let Suga do whatever it is he’s planning on, which is how you find your legs being spread a bit, your hips lifted just slightly only for someone—Suga, presumably—to slide his head between your thighs.

There’s a huff of a laugh against your pussy, and you try your best to keep up with sucking off Asahi as you’re yanked downwards to rest on his face. Asahi’s hot on your tongue, and Suga’s tongue is hot on you when he finally lathes his tongue over your sex. Your moan comes out muffled, cutting off into a squeak, almost a gag, when Asahi’s hips buck in response.

A murmured apology, a ruffle of your hair. The gentle affection has your heart and your walls fluttering against your will—Suga pulls away to laugh at you. “She liked whatever you just did, Asahi. Just so you know.”

You whine, roll your hips down in hopes of keeping him from saying anything else incriminating. He punishes you with a harsh suck of your clit, and the three of you fall into a nice rhythm—you taking Asahi’s cock as far into your mouth as you can handle, Suga fucking you on his tongue.

“S-so pretty,” Asahi murmurs when you dare a glance up at his face. He’s been watching you work him intently, sighs and groans filling your ears to let you know you’re doing well. You clench around Suga’s tongue at the praise, go back to work as you dip your head deep. When Asahi cums, he’s low and loud, and you greedily drink up the cum that hits the back of your throat. You’re not far behind, thanks to Suga, writhing on top of him as he forces you to stay seated on his face.

Asahi backs away. Suga slides out from underneath you, moves around to your front to kiss you softly. You shudder at the taste of yourself on his lips, shiver when his tongue slips into your mouth. Against your lips, he mumbles: “you could probably use a little rest already. You’re being really good, you know?”

Daichi chuckles darkly. “Oh, come on. She’ll never be done if we keep letting her rest.”

That’s the only warning you get before your skirt is tugged off. You’re left in nothing but a bra as Daichi begins to slide his fingers between your lips. “You’re doing great. Yachi said you were on birth control—I can assure you everyone here is clean, and she also said you’re okay with no condoms, but I want everyone to hear you say it, if that’s true.”

You whimper. You’re too sensitive for this right now, still shaking from your first orgasm of the night, but his fingers won’t stop moving.

“Well? Yes or no? Don’t make me ask you a third time.”

You gasp—his middle finger dips into your hole, just enough to make your hips buck. “P-please, I—I can—no condoms, please,” you nearly sob, hoping in vain that your bowing to his request will get you some respite.

“You’re so mean, Daichi,” Suga tuts.

You let out a sigh of relief when his fingers leave you, but then you’re being bent over and something hot and thick is sliding through your heat.

“S-sensitive,” you whine out.

“I know,” he replies, and then he’s pressing his way inside you, stretching you out, and you’re letting out a loud keen into the gym. He sits inside you a moment, gives you just long enough to adjust to the stretch before he’s moving. “You really worried us, you know. Do you think it’s polite to disappear without a word all week, [name]?”

“N-no, I’m sorry—“

A single harsh thrust. You cry out. Suga, ever-helpful, kneels down in front of you to give you his lap to rest on. Ever-obedient, you reach out and begin to palm the bulge in his shorts. He takes the chance to unclasp your bra as Daichi sets a slow, almost conversational pace.

You pull Suga out of his shorts, rest your head on his thigh. Focus on jerking him off as Daichi’s pace picks up from slow to harsh. “It’s nice of you to apologize. Don’t do it again.”

“I-I won’t—ah—“

The slow, lazy kisses you’ve taken to pressing against Suga’s cock—pretty and long—don’t mesh well with the bruising grip on your hips, the sharp snap of the captain’s cock in your pussy as he fucks you out. You cling desperately to Suga, jerk him off with no real rhythm as you struggle to take the abuse to your still-sensitive cunt.

By the time Suga’s cum shoots in ropes across your cheek, you’re close again, and Daichi isn’t letting up. “You want it inside, pretty girl?”

“Please,” you whine.

“Good girl,” he croons, and that sends you over the edge a second time, too fast—the fluttering of your walls drags him over with you. Suga takes the chance to stroke your hair almost lovingly as you’re filled up with hot cum, and you whimper as Daichi pulls out of you.

Five down. Nine to go.

You think they might kill you before the night’s over.

They really don’t let you rest—before you even process the retreat of the seniors, three more have stepped forward, and from the corner of your eye you notice the seniors holding back two guys in particular.

(“Dude, it’s our turn—“

“She can’t handle five at once. We already decided before this that you two get to go after them.”)

Ennoshita’s cock hangs heavy in front of you, and with a whimper, you drag yourself to sit up and take it in your mouth. He laughs softly. “You got used to this quickly. Look at you, you’re a mess.”

You’re not really willing to reply to that. You’re so far past embarrassment—if he’s trying to embarrass you, all you’re getting is a surge of heat low in your stomach all over again, as though your body could possibly handle any more right now.

There’s a nudge at your side, someone’s hand sliding up your arm and bringing you to take another cock in one of your free hands. A glance—Kinoshita is on one side of you, Narita on the other, and you are more than happy to take care of them, lack of coordination be damned.

“Take your time,” Narita says in a low voice. “I get this weird feeling the other two are not going to be very gentle with you when they get a turn.”

You shudder, moan around Ennoshita’s cock at the thought. His hips roll into your mouth, and you shoot him a pleading look. You weren’t particularly trying to send him any hints, but he takes some sort of hint anyway—his hand tangles in your hair, really expertly, actually, and he takes just a little bit of the load off you as he begins to fuck your throat, slow and easy, so you don’t have to keep track of getting off three at once. You relax your jaw, let him work, almost enjoy yourself as you twist your wrists around Kinoshita and Narita’s cocks.

Ennoshita is careful with you. Forceful, sure, but careful. You could gag on him—easily, if that was what he wanted—but he never makes you take him too deeply, simply enjoys the feeling of your mouth, your tongue, the way you’re completely lost in your little initiation. As his pace begins to stutter, you try to bob your head with him, unpermitted by his grip in your hair. You’re fully under now, head caught in a delicious space you’ve never quite experienced. Floating, really.

He pulls you off him firmly. “Color?”

You let out a little half-whine, looking up at him with lidded eyes and a quizzical head tilt as you try to remember what the fuck he’s asking you through the fuzz.

“Mm?”

“Damn, she’s totally lost.”

“Think she’ll be okay? Should we—“

A little panic surges in you, and you jolt forward as you finally process what he’s looking for. “G-green! Green. I’m green.”

He nods. “You’re sure?”

“Mm. Floaty. But green.”

“Good. That’s a good girl. You’re gonna keep being good?”

You reply with a whine, a tug forward in hopes of giving him the message to put his cock back in your mouth right now.

He gets the message.

The two in your hands tumble over the edge first, and you moan as you feel them paint you with their cum. You might like being taken advantage of like this. Ennoshita isn’t too far behind. He spills into your mouth with a groan, untangling fingers from your hair and smoothing it down gently. Before he backs away to let the next guys have their way with you, he leans down, keeps an affectionate hand on top of your head. “Good luck.”

“Mm?”

He backs away without explanation, and before you fully process it, you’re being pushed into a new position on your hands and knees. “Finally,” Noya groans from behind you, hands groping your ass almost reverently. “You’re being so good, it was so hard not to come take you while the others were busy with you.”

A whine. You’re more or less losing your ability to speak, between the soreness building in your jaw and the cotton in your head. Something bumps against your pussy, and you flinch with a whimper.

Tanaka is in front of you, watching your face carefully as Noya’s hands roam your body from behind. “Still good, [name]?”

You nod.

“Good,” he says, and then there’s yet another cock in your mouth. You’re starting to lose count. But, hey, Tanaka’s dick is an effective gag to keep you from getting too loud when Noya slides into you with an obscene squelch.

“There you are,” he groans, grip bruising-tight on your hips. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Tight and sensitive. Noya isn’t particularly thick, but at this angle he’s already pressing against a spot soft and delicious in your cunt. Fuck, he hasn’t even moved yet and you already feel dangerously close.

You rock your hips back against him, desperate even as you take Tanaka’s cock as deep into your mouth as you can manage. You get barely any movement before Noya takes the hint, and then one hand is holding you steady as he snaps his hips, sharp and hard, into you. The other sneaks around, finds your clit with ease and begins to frantically torture it. You cum hard and fast around him, and he lets his head drop backward with a groan, not stopping even as you struggle to hold yourself up and take it.

It’s all so much. So much. So much—

You barely manage to bring a hand up to finish Tanaka in your mouth, desperate to have just one less thing drowning you, and lucky for you, it works—he grits out praises as he spills into your mouth, strokes your hair as you swallow as much of his cum as you can handle.

With your mouth free, Nishinoya pauses just long enough to pull out and flip you onto your back. “Your knees are starting to hurt, right?” he coos, cock throbbing against your entrance again. “But you’re doing so well.”

You whimper. It’s all you still know how to do. He takes in your body, chest heaving and tits shaking from exertion, and slides a hand up your side, pausing to tweak a nipple. Your back arches. “God, you’re perfect. Are your tits always this sensitive, or do you just like being watched?”

“Al-ways,” you moan out, voice broken. His eyes are ravenous as he takes you in, like he doesn’t know where to look.

“Oi, Noya, you’re not the last one that gets her today. Go ahead and fuck her already.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. His arms are shaking as he pins you down by the wrists, shaking as he plunges into you all over again.

Noya is brutal. Dimly, you have the thought that you understand why they held him back as long as possible, though you think it might have made things worse. He leans down, lips against your neck, and groans when you immediately clench around him. “Your neck, too?” he hisses out.

You nod, barely able to catch your breath or un-fuzz your head long enough to talk.

“Fuck,” he breathes, taking the time to suck a few marks into your throat.

“Please,” you whine in reply. That’s all it takes for him to sink his teeth into a soft spot on your neck, and then you’re cumming again with an actual sob as he cums inside you, the second time someone’s cum inside tonight.

Nine… ten? Down. You can’t count anymore. He pulls out of you, lathes his tongue over where he’d bitten you, leaves you laying there to catch your breath.

“Need a break?”

You shake your head, not even bothering to check who’s asking you.

A laugh. “You sure? You look a little dead.”

One eye opened lazily. Yamaguchi. “Can take it,” you slur out. You’re utterly boneless. Exhausted, really. But you’ve got… a number more to get through, and fuck it, you’re in way too deep to give up now, and Yamaguchi’s looking kind of delicious, and—

Next thing you know, you’re slumped between him and Tsukki, one in your ass, the other in your cunt, you openly sobbing as Tsukki hisses condescension in your ear, fingers in your mouth to keep it open while they split you in half—

(“How is she even alive right now? I don’t think any of us made it through the whole thing without a real break.”

“We’re keeping her. We have got to keep her.”)

Next thing you know, you’re jerking Kageyama off onto your face, tongue lolling out to catch every drop of cum you can—

(“Genuinely impressive. Are we sure she’s never done this before?”

“Dude, I’m serious, what do we have to do to get her to come every time?”)

Next thing you know, Hinata is thrusting into you at blinding speeds, and you’re cumming again, moans more like broken sobs—

(“I mean, she keeps saying she’s good, and she’s almost through…”

“She’s just having a good time. Probably been dreaming about something like this since before she showed up for her ‘article’.”)

There’s a few expectant looks as you lay there at last, thoroughly fucked out, unable to even think about moving as the TV static in your brain begins to finally fade out.

Holy fuck.

Are you done? That was the last of them, right? You’re done, aren’t you?

“Now, now, [name],” Tsukishima says, and his tone has you whining. That was everyone. You’re done.

“The rule was that you have to make everyone cum before you’re done,” he explains, like you’re five or something.

“D-didn’t… didn’t I…?”

A few slow shakes of the head from a few guys.

“You’re here, too.”

Your blood runs cold.

“Noo,” you whine. “Can’t.”

“You can’t?” Tsukki crouches down beside you. “You’ve made fourteen people cum tonight, and you’re giving up now? What happened to the slut we’ve been watching all night?”

“Can’ttt,” you repeat, new tears already forming. How many times have you cum already?

He sighs. “You’re really not serious about this, are you?”

“No, I am, I-I—“

“Then you can make yourself cum one last time for us to see.”

You whimper, limply bring a hand to rest between your legs. Should’ve brought a damn vibrator.

You work yourself up as fast as you can handle, cup one breast in your off hand to roll your nipple between your fingers. Slide two fingers in and shudder when you find the mix of cum there.

(“It’s just mean making her do it herself after all that.”

“If she can actually cum again after all that, I don’t even know what to say.”)

Technically, you could probably get away with faking it. …probably. But, well…

The little competitive bitch in you wants to prove them wrong, and, hell, you’ve already put on a show for everyone here, right? So you get into it, best you can. Roll your hips weakly against your hand, sigh and whimper at just how much this all is. Rub your clit as fast as your wrist can still handle, actually fucking thrash as you fall over the edge one last time.

You blacked out.

That, at least, you can figure out. You’re being held against one of any number of potential muscular bodies, cradled, really. Like you’ll break or something.

“How long do you think she has to be out before we call someone?”

“Don’t,” you groan. “’M alive. Barely.”

Fucking hell, your throat is dry. You open one eye to peek at Suga, who’s already got a water bottle ready for you. It’s Asahi holding you, and he shifts to let you tilt your head back as Suga tips the water bottle into your mouth.

Someone is wiping the worst of the cum off you with a damp rag. You squirm, whine as they clean you up. Drink like you’ve spent the past six months in the desert.

“How’re you feeling?” Yachi asks sweetly. Ah. She’s the one cleaning you up.

“Gooood,” you slur out. “Tired. Sore. Don’t wanna be a good girl for the next twennyfour hours at least.”

She laughs. “You know you could have taken a break, right? You didn’t have to get everyone off in one go.”

You simply groan. In the background, a few of the previously unaccounted-for guys are cleaning up the mess where you’d been laid out on the floor. Someone taps something against your lips. You accept it, mostly out of laziness. Sweet. Crunchy. Chocolate-covered pretzel. You wonder if you can get them to move your jaw for you.

“Do you still want to come back after this, [name]?” Shimizu asks.

You nod. Accept another pretzel. Snuggle into Asahi’s arms. You think they picked him for cuddle duty because he’s got good arms. “’Sgood. ‘Mgood.”

She laughs slightly. Drapes something over your naked body.

A black jacket, reading Karasuno Volleyball Team.

“Welcome to the team, then,” she says, tilting her head with an ethereal smile. You blink blearily. Smile back.

You cannot fucking wait for their next match.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

If you'd like to be tagged, let me know via any contact method what you'd like to be tagged in (eg. character-specific, all works, all smut works, etc.). If your url appears on this list but is not underlined/you didn't get a notification, please ensure your blog is set to appear in search results in your blog settings! If you've got it set not to for some particular reason, consider subscribing on my ao3 for an update notification, as I always crosspost on ao3 simultaneously. After three unsuccessful tagging attempts, you will be removed from the taglist.

As always, thanks for reading! <3

#haikyuu x reader #my fics #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu reader insert smut #karasuno x reader

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visualbutterflysworld · 1 day

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The Bear | season 3

Okay this is a bit different from what I usually post but I can’t hold it in anymore! I’m a big fan of The Bear (if you haven’t watched it then what are you doing?), I started it because of JAW and just unintentionally fell in love with the show. Also Ayo is apart of Big Mouth so I was like hm this will interesting. ANYWAYS

I’ve been reading about SydCarm and I’ve always shipped them (mainly because I’m a sucker for bwwm and there’s very little representation of it in tv shows) and I keep coming up with different scenarios that should be in season 3

Like one scenario is Carmy and Richie are arguing right? And Richie is like ‘why are you making this place a living hell?’ and then Carmy unintentionally blurts out ‘Because my girl wants this fucking star and I’m gonna be sure she gets it with every bone in my body’ and Richie just stares at Carmy like ??? but to test if his theory is right (because he knows Carmy is talking about syd, he just wants to be 100% sure) so he says something like ‘when the fuck as Claire mentioned a star’ and Carmy is like ‘Not Claire, you dipshit! Sydney wants the star’ then Richie gives this look and says ‘when did Sydney become your girl?’ and BAM THATS WHEN CARMY REALIZES WHAT HE SAID AHHH

The second scenario I thought of would be Carmy and Syd arguing and it’s sorta the same thing as the first one but a love confession. Syd’s like ‘why are you doing this?’ And Carmy says ‘Because I love you and I don’t want you to leave me again!’ And then they both just kinda stand there like ‘🧍🏽‍♀️😧’ until Sydney says ‘what did you just say?’ And Carmy just stands there bamboozled and stuttering trying to figure a way out of this conversation. that’s when Sydney walks up to him and he’s just doing that one stare (yk the stare) and you think they’re gonna kiss BUT NOPE instead Sydney hugs him and he instantly melts, shoving his face in her neck while he holds her tightly. I mean this is the most desperate hug you ever seen! And Sydney talks very softly and is like ‘I’m not leaving you, Carmen, but you need to chill the fuck out’ and it’s AHHHH.

Idk why but I feel like Carmy is gonna be arguing with someone and he just spits out he loves Sydney and everyone is just staring and he’s like what ??? And like whoever it is says something like you just said you love syd and Carmy is like oh 😀

Anywho glad I got that out !!

#sydcarmy #the bear #jeremy allen white #ayo edebiri #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #I love the bear #the bear season 3 #bwwmromance #rant post #wtf is going on

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physalian · 1 day

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There’s this unskippable Google AI ad on YouTube where this girl consults the robot about how to cancel dinner plans with the people across the table in the most annoying voice (likely because I have seen this ad now and had to listen to her asinine questions 20 times at least) and this ad, right here, speaks to my frustration around AI:

It disincentivizes critical thinking.

I know the ad is a joke and meant to be lighthearted and I’m only this annoyed because it’s unskippable and irritating af, but every time I see it all I can think is “if you can’t manage enough creativity and critical thinking to come up with your own excuse to cancel on your friends, maybe you shouldn’t have those friends.”

I have a relative who is firmly in the ChatGPT camp and, for example, yesterday I was trying to figure out how to compress a video file and was venting to them about it. They sent me back something I didn’t read from ChatGPT. Meanwhile, I looked up a YouTube video and figured out how to do the rest on my own, and getting the file compressed was immensely satisfying. Far more than mindlessly and thoughtlessly consulting the robot.

“It’s just like a YouTube video!” They’d told me.

No, a real person put time and effort into that video. That robot stole their content without their consent, didn’t credit them, and spat it back out. I used to patronizingly refer to ChatGPT as "the magic conch" and now I can barely do that anymore because that metaphor is becoming all-too real.

While I can understand the barriers it lowers—like if you struggle with writing the robot does it for you, or if you need a piece of art and are too poor, you can generate it for free. Mindless, repetitive tasks that eat up creative juices that can just be automated by a robot, too (even though everyone can tell when a response is canned and artificial and no one appreciates talking to a machine).

If you keep consulting ChatGPT for how to articulate what you want to say, or just straight-up having it do the hard work for you, you’re never going to learn. Yes it’s taken me 8 years to reach the quality and skill of writing I have but as another Tumblr post out there said: The time will pass anyway.

I can’t draw to the skill level that I’d like to. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep practicing until I get there. I thrive off that sense of accomplishment. There’s no little hit of dopamine from typing in a prompt and clicking a button and I certainly don’t appreciate the final product scalped without consequence from real artists.

Or, like when I had to fire a beta reader for flagrant abuse of AI in her work: I can copy-paste my manuscript into ChatGPT, too. I’d paid her for a human response, not garbage feedback that couldn’t understand what I was writing beyond that there were words on the page. I wanted so badly to ask her why she does a job in a creative field if she's just going to have a robot do all the fun parts? I beta read at a great loss of profit because I enjoy beta reading and it's a fiercely competetive market. Surely if she wanted to scam people, she could have done so in so many other ways. You don't need to know how to pen complex prose in your every day life, but by god, you do need to know how to effectively communicate, contextualize, and argue your perspective and this ridiculous ad joking about cancelling dinner plans sure is funny, until it isn't.

And I know the people who made AI probably did so with the best of intentions but people can be lazy and cheap and we love taking shortcuts to save money and I stand by this: "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."

So. Yeah. This is a writing advice blog and this post has almost nothing to do with it, but that ad annoys me to no end and I had to say something somewhere about it. Bottom line: Robots were supposed to make the hard jobs, the monotonous jobs, the overcomplicated jobs, the belittling jobs easier, not make us all into pudding-boned Wall-E people. If you want to write, learning is absolutely free - write on the back of your grocery receipts for all I care. If you want to draw, pick up a notebook and pack of pencils from the local dollar store and start drawing.

What you made will always mean more to you than something that didn't cost you time, effort, brain power, or even money to obtain.

#fuck ai everything #writing #drawing #ai #chatgpt #mini rant #wall-e was a warning not an aspiration

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j23r23 · 1 day

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Double booking

Tangerine x fem Reader - angsty & fluff

warning: blood, mention of dying, death, suffocation

Great.

Married for a week and already shot by your brother-in-law.

No, it's not what you think.

Blood oozed out between your fingers, staining your wedding ring.You press harder against the gunshot wound on your left glute, a hiss escaping your lips. You are leaning against the cold brick wall of an office building in the middle of the night, hearing Tangerine and Lemon arguing just a few feet away.

"You absolute muppet, Lemon! You just shot my wife!" Tangerine's voice is a mix of fury and panic, his thick accent making him sound even more exasperated.

"How was I supposed to know that it was your wife?!" Lemon snaps back, his annoyance barely hiding the guilt in his eyes. "It should just be you, me and the target in this bloody building! For fucks sake, she shouldn't even be here! Why are you even here in the first place?" Lemon turns to you now, all flabbergasted.

"Lemon, i am as confused as you are." you began, your voice steady yet tinged with a hint of exasperation. "But I'm guessing it's highly probable that there was a mix-up, due to the recent change in my records all three of us got a call for tonight. I guess, when I took on Tangerine's last name, it likely triggered a glitch in the system, resulting in this fucked up double booking."

Tangerine's voice cracked with annoyance as he spun around to face Lemon again to continue their argument. "You still shot my wife in the ass!" he exclaimed, his tone sharp.

Lemon' rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean to, it was a fucking accident!" he said irked. "All I saw was a figure in the shadows, thinking it was the twat we need to kill tonight. Not my fault the database did a double booking because you two share a last name now!"

Tangerine's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, his frustration boiling over. "Lemon, if she dies, I'm going to kill you myself," he threatened, his voice low and seething with barely contained anger.

You snicker at Tangerine "I'm not dying, love... just, severely inconvenienced." You manage a weak chuckle, wincing at the pain and trying to calm your husband, who was not amused with the situation. "You know darling, I always said changing my last name to yours would come back and bite me in the ass. Just didn't think it would be quite so literal." You glare at Lemon.

Tangerine kneels beside you bringing his hand to your cheeck, his anger momentarily replaced by concern. "Sweetheart, we need to get you patched up."

"Not yet" You grit out, trying to focus on the mission. "We need to take out the target first. Can't have him spilling company secrets from our employer while I'm busy bleeding all over the floor."

Lemon glances around, clearly frustrated. "This is ridiculous! You are clearly not in any condition to continue. You should get that bullet out asap."

"And she's also a professional," You cut in sharply, mustering as much authority as you can. "Which means she knows the job comes first. Now quit arguing and get moving. I've got enough adrenaline to keep me going for a bit."

Tangerine looks torn, his jaw clenched pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. "You sure about this, love?"

"Yes" You whispered, managing a weak smile. "Now go. I'll be fine. Just... hurry back."

He hesitated, looking at Lemon he stands up. "Lemon, you stay with her. I'll handle the whistleblower."

"Like hell I will!" Lemon protested. "You stay, I'll go. Shes your wife, not mine!"

"Both of you go!" You snapped, mustering as much authority as you could. "Like i said, I can handle myself for a few minutes. Besides," You add with a wry smile, "I'm not going anywhere until I get a proper honeymoon. Now, finish the job so we can go home and you can patch me up, alright?"

Lemon rolls his eyes, pulling out his gun and checking the clip. "Fine, but if you die becaues it got infected, I'm blaming you for it."

You roll your eyes. "And ill haunt your ass. Now, go be the charming psychotic duo I love, and kill that son of a bitch."

They exchanged a look, then nodded reluctantly. Tangerine kissed Your forehead quickly. "Be right back, love."

As they headed further into the building, their bickering voices fading, you leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes.

But a sudden commotion snapped you out of your brief reverie. You pressed yourself into the shadows under a desk, listening intently. Someone else was on the same floor. You could hear panting and a string of whispered profanities. The sounds drew closer. It wasn't Tangerine or Lemon for sure—so it had to be the target.

You shifted around to get a better view of your surroundings, muscles tensed and ready. The moment the target sprinted past, you extended your leg, tripping them. They went sprawling across the floor. Without wasting a second, you pounced, locking them into a chokehold. Their arms and legs flailing as you tightened your grip around the neck.

Just then, Tangerine and Lemon came rushing back, their footsteps pounding against the floor. They skidded to a stop when they saw you.

Tangerine smirked. "Need a hand, love?"

You tightened your grip. "One moment, please," you said calmly, watching as the target's struggles weakened, his face turning purple and snapping for air.

Lemon chuckled. "And here I thought I actually have to do some work."

As the target's body stopped moving, you release your hold and pushed him off of you "All done." you say, brushing some strands of hair out of your face and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your butt.

"Nice work." Lemon comments, holstering his weapon.

"Thas my wife." Tangerine adds proudly, a grin spreading across his face. "Now come on, poppet. We can't have you bleeding all over the place longer."

You roll your eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Good idea, love."

Tangerine scoops you up gently, careful not to jostle your wound. "Let's get you patched up, and then we'll be on our Honeymoon, yeah?"

Lemon leads the way out, keeping a lookout for any more trouble. "I'll tell you what," he says over his shoulder, "next time, I'm double-checking the mission report. No more mix-ups. Can't stand your lovey dovey shit."

You chuckle, resting your head against Tangerine's shoulder. "You do that Lem. And maybe try not to shot me the next time?"

And thus, another day in the life of a newlywed assassin comes to an end.

#tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine fic #bullet train tangerine #🍊#bullet train #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine bullet train #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine and lemon #tangerine 🍊#tangerine fanfic #lemon and tangerine #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson fic #bullet train fanfic #bullet train fanfiction

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wa-royal-tea · 2 days

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Previous | Beginning | Next

(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)

Cassia Garden, Belcoast (3:57pm)

Indirah: Where’s my heels? Has anyone seen my heels?

Ginevra: I’m going to wait downstairs. Eloise, are you coming?

Eloise: Yeah!

Camille: Kak Lina, can you do my hair, please?

Catalina: Sure! Let me get the hairbrush first.

Belle: There. You’re all done.

Ginny: Thank you, mum. How do I look?

Belle: Beautiful. You look beautiful, my dear.

Ginny: Mum…please don’t cry. It’s too early for that.

Belle: I know…I just can’t believe you’re getting married already.

Belle: You grew up so fast. I still remember how small you were when I first met you.

Ginny: Mum…

Belle: I remember that day when you asked me if you can call me “mommy”. I can never forget that day, ever.

Belle: You made me a mother, Ginny. Even though I wasn’t the one who gave birth to you, you still loved and accepted me.

Ginny: But you loved me like your own too, mum. You’ve never treated me differently. Not even once.

Ginny: You’ll always be my mum. No one can tell me otherwise.

Belle: I wish Irene was here to see you like this. You grew up so well. She would be proud.

*door opens and closes*

Belle: Hugo? What are you doing here?

Hugo: Mum asked me to call everyone down. The guests are arriving.

Belle: Oh, yeah. Ginny, you wait here, alright? I’ll have Lina or Dira call you later when the ceremony is about to start.

Ginny: Okay. I’ll see you later.

Ginny: Aren’t you going to follow her?

Hugo: Grandpa wants to talk to you. I’ll wait for him outside, yeah?

Ginny: Okay. I’ll take care of him. Have a seat, grandpa.

*door opens and closes*

Anthony: I heard you made your dress.

Ginny: Mhm! Do you like it?

Anthony: Yes. It’s beautiful. You look great in it.

Ginny: Thank you, grandpa.

Ginny: What do you want to talk about? Are you alright?

Anthony: I’m alright, my dear. I just…I need to give you something.

Ginny: What’s that?

Anthony: It’s a letter. From your mother. She wrote it for you before she…passed.

Anthony: I had this since you were a child. But I never found the right opportunity to give it to you. I thought today would be a good time. I’m sorry it took me so long.

Ginny: It’s okay. You have your reasons.

Anthony: Here, read it.

Ginny: What is it about?

Anthony: I don’t know. I didn’t read it. It’s your letter.

Hi Genevieve, it’s mommy. Do you like the name I gave you? Your dad thinks it’s cute, and I agree. I think it’s a perfect name for you. But he said it’s a bit long so we should figure out a nickname for you. Maybe Gee? Vivi? Ginny? I don’t know. We’ll figure it out when you’re here I guess!

Your dad and I are so excited to have you. It wasn’t planned but nothing good in this world is planned!

You were a big surprise for both of us. I was scared when I first found out about you. I was scared that your dad and his family wouldn’t accept us.

I already had plans for us if his family decided to not want anything to do with you and me. I was sure that I could raise you on my own.

I imagined us living in a small home back in my home country. I can already see our life in it.

You taking your first steps there…

…first day of school…

…moving to college…

…and getting ready for your wedding.

It would’ve been perfect. Just you and me.

But when I told your dad about you, he was overjoyed. And despite his father’s disapproval, he asked me to marry him.

Adapting to this life wasn’t easy. But your dad made sure that I know I can always count on him whenever I needed him. Even when he’s far away for his military training.

He really loves you. Every time we got on a call, he always asks how are you doing. I sometimes feel like he loves you more than he loves me. But it’s alright. I know he’ll take good care of you when you’re here.

Just a few months left, and you’ll be in our arms. And every day I’m looking forward to it. Though I know once you’re here, I’m going to miss having you so close to me. It’s funny.

I hope you know how much I love you, Genevieve. I can’t promise you I’ll be the perfect mother, but I’ll try my best. I want you to know that I’ll always be there for you when things get hard.

Thank you for choosing me to be your mother. I love you, my daughter.

Love,

Mommy.

Anthony: I have been alive for a long time, Genevieve. I have no regrets about anything I’ve ever done.

Anthony: But if there’s one thing that I deeply regret doing is…not being kinder to your mother.

Anthony: I…I was horrible to her. I’ve never accepted her. No matter how kind she was to me, I can never see past my anger towards her for “ruining” Emery’s future by having you.

Anthony: A few days before you were born. I had my first heart attack and your mother was the first person to see the signs and called the doctor for me.

Anthony: If it weren’t for her, I probably wouldn’t be here today.

Anthony: I was thankful. But I was too prideful to say anything at the time.

Anthony: I promised to myself that I’d be kinder to her after that day, but when Emery broke the news that she passed…it was too late.

Anthony: When Emery brought you to your late grammy and me before leaving you with your Aunt Sofia, I saw Irene in you.

Anthony: And I swore to myself that day that I can’t die until I see you happy.

Anthony: I want you to live the best life that your mother would’ve hoped for you.

Anthony: You don’t have to forgive me for my behavior towards your mother when she was alive. And if you hate me now because of that, I completely understand.

Anthony: I’m just glad that I get to see you happy now. And I hope that you’ll remain happy for the rest of your life.

Ginny:…grandpa?

Anthony: Yes, dear?

Ginny: I have something to ask you.

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sweet1delusi0ns · 5 hours

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Haikyuu Boys comforting you from insecurity ──☆*:・ﾟ

Random ! Characters

Warning: insecurity based on looks such as scars, weight, facial features ect. Mention of old sh scars, Comfort included obv!

Characters: ushijima, nishinoya, Suna, tsukishima

Ushijima✿

He has always been fondled by other girls since he’s the kind of guy to attract people, you notices he’s been getting more attention lately, but not respectful attention, people have started asking him out even though everyone knows he is taken. He just glared in disgust but still you can’t help but feel like you should be doing better. You decided to talk privately to him once he was on break.

“Is something wrong? Has something happened?” “Kind of.” “What do you mean?” “Be honest, do you wish I was prettier, maybe more appealing?” He looked at you in silence with his mouth agape. “What? No! Why would I wish for that?” “Well maybe you wish I was as pretty as all the people who have asked you out recently.” “NO!” He said a little to loud, he covered his mouth this his hand and he looks at the ground “no…no I don’t wish that…I love you. Not them” “are you sure because I can chang-” he pulls you into a hug before you could finish “no no. I already think your perfect stop this”

You felt bad for making him upset but he didn’t care about that at the moment all he cared was making you feel better, he when once you guys were finished talking he did the one thing he never does, he bragged about you “isn’t y/n so attractive? Ha she’s mine” “I bet you wished you looked at good as her!” It was embarrassing but very touching that he would go out of his comfort zone just to make you feel better. He will also talk to you about how you can’t just say things like that because it’s not healthy once you get home!

Nishinoya✿

You know he use to swoon kiyoko and he stopped after he developed a crush on you but you can’t help but wonder if he still finds her the most attractive girl he knows. You thought maybe if you started to act like her you would be able to tell if he still find her perfect, he started noticing you changing your speech pattern, hair, clothes and he had so ask.

“Why are You acting so weird?” You down at him from your phone “I don’t know what your saying” you said in a monotone voice which you never do “that! Your acting completely different! Your acting like kiyoko almost” you hitch your breath at the fact she was the first thing he thought of; “isn’t that what you like…” you whisper, the confused look on his face turned into guilt. “Oh y/n…no matter how cool kiyoko is I will always like you more” you stay silent in fear “Cmon!!! I Love youuuu!” You turn Away back to your phone which made him sign “why is my pretty, perfect, awesome, soooo cool girlfriend ignoring!” You smile at his attitude.

He gave you a hug so you would have to focus on him. He spend an hour with you in his arms talking about how he loves you instead of kiyoko! And how perfect you are for him!

Suna✿

Sadly he can’t figure it out until he caught you in the act of insulting yourself in your own mirror he was shocked at what he was hearing a just stood there for 3 minutes listening to you go on about much disgusting you are. You only stopped because you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror

“And what is up with my nose? It look like-…s-Suna! What are you..doing here…?” He walked into the bathroom “why are you doing that…how long have you felt like that?” You sign reached for your shirt “I’ve felt like this for a while.” You lift your shirt up revealing old self harm scars scattered around your chest. He reached up his hand to his mouth before pulling you in his chest “I’m here now y/n…you don’t need to feel like that anymore. Take it back please…” you tear up softly before whispering “I can’t take it back I-” “please. For me?…” you sigh before giving in. “I take it back, I’m sorry.” “And don’t apologize either. Go to bed I’m going to take care of you today. I’ll go make you food. Be nice to yourself while I’m gone please” he pulls away to start walking and you nodded in responds

He took care of you that night and the next month aswell. He can’t believe you feel that way so it’s his mission to make you forget.

Tsukishima✿

You thought very hard about how to lose weight since you couldn’t stand being this size anymore, maybe if you got fitter he would like you more? I mean he is an athlete he probably wished you were one too. He isn’t stupid he knew something was wrong the second you got a scale to put in the bathroom. But he really broke when he found you pull at the skin around the stomach while looking disgusted

“Y/n stop that now, you look dumb” “more like fat.” “…what did you say?” “fat tsuki.” “What do you mean?” “I wish I was like you, fit and athletic. I Look pathetic compared to you” he groans in response “don’t even you look good.” “Not good enough.” He quickly picked you up but not roughly and placed you in bed, away from the mirror; “I love you, and I’m not going to let anybody insult you not even yourself. So stop that.” “But you-” “but what? Y/n I don’t care how you look I’m not that self centered.” He went to kiss the parts of your body that you were previously judging in the mirror causing you to close your eyes to stop crying.

He made sure you knew he found you hot no matter what. He starts carrying you places so you know your not heavy at all, he even started saying he likes it. He is willing to do anything to make you stop talking down on yourself and i mean anything

Wsg yall, this probably sucks. It’s late and I’m lazy, not proof read again😋! I rlly just wanted to write ushijima LMAO

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triggerlil · 2 days

Text

i bet God heard you coming

It humbles Gale all over again how the world keeps going. When he'd returned home from the war and the horses at the Spencers' stables still nuzzled into his palm, when Marge died and the sun still set pink over the cottonwoods across the fields. Now John was gone, and the birds still trilled excitedly in the early morning mist.

1.9k, also on AO3

It's one of the first warm nights of Spring when Gale looks at John for the last time. Sure, he has photos: the one John gave him that's long since creased from the amount of times Gale's held it, the hoarded newspaper clippings with smudged smirks and group shots around the planes where faces blurred. But this was his last moment seeing him in person, and despite the sadness that claws at his chest and grips his heart, he wants to remember everything. The dark sweep of curls across John's forehead, the crooked part of his nose from an unclean break, the small scars and marks that pepper his skin (which only ever made him more handsome), long still eyelashes the ghosts of which seemed to flutter now against Gale’s cheek. He absentmindedly brushes the sensation away, the raw skin under his eyes stinging, and his hand comes away wet with tears. He would’ve figured he had none left.

He needed to make this quiet moment count because of all the things he’d never committed to memory. The blue of John’s eyes was already fading, would the tenor of his laugh be next? Would it only be the horror that stayed? The way John looked with blood splattered across his face, the sound of his shouts when he’d woken panting, the smell of gunpowder and death? If nightmares were the only parts of John he could salvage, that was better than nothing.

He settles a hand over where John’s are folded across his stomach, wedding ring new enough that parts still shine. He knows he’s cold, but Gale sucks in a breath when he touches John’s cheek. It's as cold as when they marched.

“How’d we get here, huh?” He whispers, shaky. He’s going to have to move on soon, let others take their time. No one would interrupt him, but he can’t handle it much longer anyhow. The silence closes in and the overwhelming perfume of flowers starts to make him feel sick. He wants to sit John up and hug him so tightly he breaks his ribs, shake him until his bones fall out so Gale can finally accept the truth. “You weren't supposed to die on me, John.”

He feels panic start to rise in his throat, bile and tar, he takes one long last look: there are the freckles he’d counted, the strong jaw he’d held, lips he’d ran the pad of his thumb over, broad shoulders and arms that’d wrapped around him, a chest he’d once seen rise and fall. He wrenches himself away before he can choose to stay and walks quickly back through the wake and out to the lawn. He should say something to Josephine, but he doesn’t know how. He hadn’t wanted to be around anyone when Marge died—except John. It’s late, the funeral is tomorrow afternoon, he’ll say something then. Gale sits on the pavement and waits for Esther to say goodbye for the both of them. Not for the first time he wishes he smoked. He settles for taking a toothpick and fiddling it between his teeth. Esther touches his shoulder gently as the crickets start singing, and they drive back to their hotel without talking.

The air is cool the next morning when Gale goes for a jog. The shock has worn off somewhat; he no longer has an excuse to stay indoors and wallow. Regardless it wouldn’t be a good look, grown men don’t grieve like widows over their best friends. Even if said friend should’ve had plenty of time left. It humbles Gale all over again how the world keeps going. When he'd returned home from the war and the horses at the Spencers' stables still nuzzled into his palm, when Marge died and the sun still set pink over the cottonwoods across the fields. Now John is gone, and the birds still trill excitedly in the early morning mist. His feet still strike the ground as his breath turns ragged and he has to bend over at the side of the road to dry heave and swallow hungry gulps of air. He shuffles back to the hotel and into the shower, listens to Esther get up and start dressing, singing under her breath. His wet hair dripping onto the back of her neck, he helps with the clasp on the pearl necklace he’d given her before they left. He wants to feel some part of Marge beside him today. Esther had been hesitant to accept at first, but Gale knew Marge would’ve liked to see it worn again. She would’ve wanted him to be happy. Tough luck, he thinks. She and John had made that pretty difficult.

A few years older than Gale, Esther had lost someone herself. Her first husband had been shot off one of the beaches in Normandy and swallowed by the ocean. It’s unfortunately part of why they work so well together—they both know this isn’t their one great love, but it’s comforting and safe. They’ve talked a lot about the past, but Esther doesn’t know about John. No one knows about John. No one will ever know about he and John. Esther fastens the buttons on his service dress when his hands start shaking too much and goes on tiptoe to place a kiss under his eye. He wants to tell her she looks beautiful in black, but can’t get the words out, so he just takes her hand and doesn’t let go, even as they drive.

“He was a good man,” Gale ends up saying. “I’ll always remember him.” It’s lame in comparison to the vastness of both their grief, but Josephine still clasps his hands, hugs Esther, and thanks them for coming all this way.

Then they’re moving on, and Gale is speaking consoling words he can’t hear to John’s two daughters, who have so much of his playfulness in their features that he can barely stand it. Esther is calmly leading him to their seats, saying something, and he nods despite not understanding anything. The first speech is lost to the rushing of blood in his ears. He’s supposed to get up and say something, he has his speech tucked into his breast pocket, but his vision has tunneled down to nothing but the casket and the knowledge that John is in it.

Yesterday was the last day he’d ever see John again. Esther squeezes his hand and he realizes it’s his turn. He somehow stands in front of the familiar faces of grief and talks about how John helped him get through the war, as if that’s even half of it. He can’t say he wishes he’d been there when John was five and scraped both knees falling off his bike, just so he could shush and console him, or how he would’ve held ice to every black eye John got fighting after school. He can't say he remembers watching John smoke outside the barracks and the swoop in his stomach when everything clicked. He can’t explain that John is someone he’s always known, that when he died he took a part of Gale with him. His voice cracks only once, and then he’s in his seat and doesn't remember walking back over. Esther takes his hand again, and she will never know just how deep his grief goes. He will never tell her about nights in the Stalag when it was so cold everyone was sharing bunks, but those were also the only nights he actually slept, drifting off to the comforting length of John's body pressed against his. Gale will take to his own grave how John came running after Marge died, sleeping together again—cramped on the couch because Gale couldn’t stand to be in the master bedroom—or the one brief moment they’d had alone before John’s wedding, Gale straightening John’s collar and running his fingers through the scruff of hair at the nape of his neck. They will never have any of that again, and Gale somehow has to find a way to live with it. He has to survive for the both of them, now.

The air feels muggy with promised rain as guests trickle out of the funeral home. The Egan grandchildren run around on the grass, unaware of what they’ve lost, and their innocent screams carve a hole out of his stomach. He stops to talk to some of the other men from the 100th who were able to come, but he mostly nods and avoids their pitying stares. They invite him out for drinks tonight, in John’s honor. Hotel checkout is at 0900, but by now he’s used to late nights and early mornings. Esther breaks away from the group of wives that have found themselves huddled around Josephine, and they drive somewhere for a coffee.

“Are you going out tonight, for John?” She asks him.

He shrugs, wishing his hands would burn to the sides of this chipped diner mug he's holding.

“It’s been so long since any of the girls have seen each other, Josephine wants us over for wine later. You’d figure she’d be too exhausted, but I think she likes the distraction.”

“Her and John always had that in common.”

Esther stifles a laugh and pretends to cough.

“I said I’d only go if I wasn’t leaving you alone.”

Gale weighs his options. Stay in with Esther and feel guilty and sorry for himself, lie just to be alone, or go out with the men who are the closest to understanding what he and John had.

“I’ll probably go out, just for a bit.”

She nods, sipping her coffee. One milk and one sugar as opposed to Gale’s black; Marge liked just milk, and John was always two milk and enough sugar to rot your teeth. The steam tickles his face and the coffee tastes like every funeral he’s attended—bitter yet familiar. They decide to spend what’s left of the day at the cinema, and he runs his thumb along Esther’s wrist as they sit in the dark. He gets absorbed enough in the story he forgets where he is, the repetitive touch lulling him into the past. He’s at the local theatre in Wyoming watching an unbearably sappy romance with Marge, he’s in the barracks next to John smiling slyly around a toothpick while they bump knees and the men shout profanity at the projection.

He doesn’t drink that night, the first and last time will always be that swig from John’s flask on VE-Day, but when he’s walking home down unfamiliar streets he fishes out a cigarette he got from a stranger at the bar. He exhales slow, lets the cloud of smoke envelope him in the familiar scent he’d come to associate with John. The rush to his head is a bit like flying a plane, the calm reminiscent of the sky stretching out before him, and he understands how people get addicted. He walks past a church and squints in the dark. He’s never been very religious—doesn’t count the desperate prayers to any God listening while enemy territory rushed towards him—wasn’t raised on it and never bothered. He takes a shuddering inhale and watches the embers burning down towards his fingers. He gazes at the cross atop the roof, silhouetted against the starry sky, and asks God for one last favour: if there is a Heaven, can Bucky be there waiting for him? He wants to see him at the pearly gaits, smirk playing on his boyish face, as he asks Gale what took him so long.

#this hurt me yall #but it had to be done #mota #clegan #buckbucky #john egan #john bucky egan #gale cleven #gale buck cleven #clegan fic #john egan x gale cleven #tw: funerals #tw: grief #triggerlilfic

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newtthetranswriter · 3 days

Note

Hi, I saw your requests were open and was wondering if I could request Gojo with a gender neutral reader? But make it super angsty? Like maybe he cheated or the elders made him break up with them.

Word Count: 1235

Paring: Satoru Gojo x gn! Reader

Warnings: Break ups, mentions of near death experienece, my inability to write breakups well, let me know if I missed any

A/n: Thank you so much for the request. I apologize that it took so long but I hope you enjoy it, and I made it angsty enough for you. I don’t have much else to say on this one so, as always enjoy and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

I had met Satoru when he had saved me from a horrifying monster. He had explained to me that it was a cursed spirit and his job was to exercise them so they couldn’t hurt anyone. If I had not almost been killed by one I would have called him crazy, but first hand experience opened my eyes to a world I didn’t know existed.

After that fateful day I started running into the Tall sorcerer, as he called himself, everywhere. It felt like we were meant to be in each other’s lives. It seemed that he also noticed that our paths keep crossing, and after the third time he asked me out.

That was about three years ago and our relationship was amazing. Satoru always made time for me, even with his busy schedule as the strongest sorcerer and teacher of the next generation. He had also made sure to keep me far away from the dangers of his world. Like I said before I only found out about curses when one almost killed me, and that near death experience was the only reason I could see them, so Satoru made it his mission to keep me safe.

It felt as if we would be able to keep this balance and keep caring for each other for the rest of our lives. Sadly, like most things, all good things come to an end. And so fate led us to this moment, Satoru standing by the front door ripping my heart from my chest.

“It’s over Y/n.” It was a simple three word sentence but it was enough to cause my world to crumble around me.

I couldn’t help the tears that immediately ran down my face. “What are you saying, Satoru? I thought we were doing fine. I thought you loved me.” It hurt so bad, I just needed an explanation. I tried to search his expression for any sign he was lying. Unfortunately for me, he had just gotten back from a mission and had yet to remove his blindfold, making it impossible to accurately read his emotions.

“It’s just over, can’t that be enough. If you care for my opinion you will accept that it’s over.” He stated, running his hand through his hair.

My mind was racing trying to figure out what had gone wrong. The heartbreak was morphing from sorrow to anger. “If I care for your opinion I’d accept that it’s over, really Satoru. You come home from whatever dangerous mission, and just tell me it’s over. No explanation just expecting me to roll over and throw out the last three years of my life.” I was close to yelling at this point. “If you really truly want me to just accept that it’s over, then man up, take off the stupid blindfold and look me in the eyes while you tear out my heart.” I exclaimed. If he wanted to break me he should have the courage to actually look me in the eyes when he does it.

I watched as he sighed, and slowly pulled the cloth from his face. “It’s over Y/n. I’m done, I don’t love you anymore. I’ll send someone by tomorrow to get my things. Don’t try to contact me again after tonight.” There it was, he actually had the balls to look me in the eye with those mesmerizing orbs, and crush the last pieces of my heart. He didn’t wait for a response, and just turned and left my apartment.

As I watched the door close I collapsed to the floor. He had done it; he crushed the last shreds of hope that it was just a cruel joke. Sitting on the floor, every memory we had flashed before my eyes. I sat on the floor for what felt like days but was in reality only a few hours. After it had all sunk in that Satoru wouldn’t be walking back in and saying it had just been a cruel joke, I stood to begin gathering all of the objects Satoru had left at my apartment over the years.

Grabbing a box that was pushed to the back of a closet, I began filling it with anything that had once belonged to Satoru. Spare sunglasses, clothes left for when he spent the night, I didn’t care if anything got damaged after all he didn’t care about how he left an irreparable hole in my heart. After clearing the space of any memory of the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, I sunk into the couch.

It hit me again seeing how empty the place looked without the random pairs of glasses on the table, or empty candy wrappers on the counter. I was thrown back into the heartache, letting the tears flow freely as I curled up on the couch, eventually falling asleep there.

The sound of a gentle knock at the door awoke me, around ten the next morning. Wiping the dried tears from my eyes, I took a moment to remind myself that it was probably just whatever sad soul was sent to pick up Satoru’s belongings. I was proven right when I opened the door to see Ijichi, standing there, looking as if he would rather not be there at that moment.

“Hello Y/l/n, I’m here to pick up Gojo’s belongings.” Of course he was trying to keep it formal, he had been like that the very few times I had met him. Ijichi was the only person I had met from Satoru’s job, so it wasn’t a surprise to see him be the one sent to grab the belongings.

I held up a hand signaling I’d be right back. Grabbing the box of items from the table, I had to fight to hold back even more tears. “Here’s everything.” I said handing over the box. “I’m sorry he roped you into his mess. Anyway stay safe and don’t let Gojo push you around too much. Goodbye Ijichi.” I bid the man fair well, as my heart broke even more. Knowing that I no longer had the privilege of calling him by his first name hurt but it was a crucial step in moving on.

Before I could close the door, Ijichi cleared his throat, catching my attention. “It’s not my place to say this, but Gojo did this to keep you safe. I can’t explain in great detail, but things are getting more dangerous and he doesn’t want to see you get hurt because of him.” I was left speechless as he gave me a slight hope that everything would eventually turn out fine. “Anyways, I hope you have a good day all things considered.” And with that he left carrying the last pieces of my life with Gojo.

I thought on Ijichi’s words for a moment as I closed the door and returned to my place on the couch. It made sense that Gojo would want to keep me safe, but surely if he was the strongest, as he claimed all the time, he could have protected me without shattering my heart. As much as I wanted to hold on to the hope that I would be able to be with Gojo again, I had to accept the truth. As of right now, he left me and there’s nothing I can do about it.

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gn!reader

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heartss4matthewq · 15 hours

Text

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY

SUMMARY: eva hangs out with matt at a party, it takes a strong turn of events

contains: smut, cockwarming, dom!matt, matt’s pov, no y/n 🥰

a/n; i wanted to use a name lmk if that was a bad idea also i have SO many fics in my drafts like holy shit ima finish them soon i promise 💪

chris: orange

nick: purple

matt: blue

eva: green

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

MATTS POV

i walked downstairs and sat down on the couch trying to find something to do for the day.

“we could go to top golf..?”

“nah that’s boring, matt what do you wanna do because you haven’t spoken up ina while” just when i was about to respond, my phone rang.

“guys eva is calling wait” i answered and put it on speaker.

“heyy evss what’s up?”

“yo you’re on speaker btw so we can all hear you”

“heyy guys so i didn’t know if y’all were busy tonight but i heard madi is having a party at her house i think we should gooo!!!”

“wait bet” i said hoping for approval of nick and chris

“yeah one-hundred percent we’re going because we were literally just trying to figure out something to do tonight”

“alright yayy, see u guys tonight love you so muchhh”

1 hour later

i was walking past nicks room when i heard him on the phone with eva

“but nickkk, pink is my favorite color”

“yes i know girl but if you wear the black dress you’ll match with matt and i’m pretty sure he likes you back but i don’t knoww”

“nick, i really like your brother i might tell him tonight to be honest!”

does eva like me? do i like her back? i always thought she was pretty..

the thoughts were racing in my head

this shouldn’t be making me horny.

as soon as i was going to pull my jeans down, nick yelled “MATTHEW WE WANNA LEAVE HURRY UP”

shit.

“COMING, JUST LET ME GRAB MY KEYS SINCE YOU CANT FUCKING GET YOUR LICENSE AT THE AGE OF 20!”

at the party.

me,chris, and nick all waited outside of the house for eva.

“damn we should’ve just picked her up, her uber is taking years” chris chuckled as he sipped his pepsi

5 mins passed and eva finally stepped out of the car in a tight, black dress that carved out all of her curves. i couldnt ignore how good she looked tonight.

“hey matt you look good!” eva complimented me.

“not to bad yourself” i laughed and lightly tapped her back.

a couple hours had passed and eva was drunk and high as fuck and i could tell.

she started to walk over to me as i was sitting on an arm chair.

“hey matty” she said loudly

“hi evs, there’s no seats available so i can get up if you want!” i said so she wouldn’t have to stand

“i think i’ll just sit on your lap if you’re good with that”

“oh uhm yeah i guess that’s fine”

i was good for a little while until she started to move around a lot to get comfortable.

obviously this made me get squirmish. i grabbed her hips so she’d stop moving so much.

i did not need her to feel her best friends hard-on.

“what’s wrong matty can’t handle me grinding on your lap?” she said seductively.

“stop talking before i stuff your mouth” i said suddenly gaining confidence

“you won’t do shit matthew”

“i’ll prove your ass wrong” i responded back

“do it then”

with those words i pulled her panties to the side and unzipped my jeans. i took my jacket off and wrapped it around us so no one could see what we were doing.

in one swift motion i took my dick out and put it inside of her, earning a quiet whimper from her.

the worst thing that could’ve possibly happened in this moment happened.

all of her friends came up and started talking with her. when she started to laugh her body moved in motions around my cock. making me groan. every minute passing felt like hours.

when her friends left she pulled off of me to go dance or something.

before she could leave i grabbed her by the jaw

“we’re not fucking done with this” she smirked at me and walked off

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut

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teamconductors · 2 days

Text

A Day Off: A PMD Lost Tracks of Time AU

Summary: During a weekend where the Battle Subway has shut down for maintenance, Ingo offers Mono a train trip, and Emmet wants to spend time with her at Nimbasa's amusement park.

Background: This is for the Swap AU (forgive the old art). After the events of LTOT, Sneasler is turned into a human and is sent back in time to Unova before Ingo got taken to Hisui.

In terms of timeline, this is after Sneasler aka Mono has established herself as a trainer, is roommates with Elesa, and got a job at the Battle Subway out of pity (or so she claims).

This is a long one. It could've been split, but I didn't want to.

Also, for clarity: Mono is Sneasler's name as a human. Everyone knows her as Mono, but the narration uses both Mono and Sneasler for her. Is that confusing? Maybe. But I'm too lazy to change it.

"Unbelievable," Sneasler said. She wished she figured out human technology by now. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't have entered Gear Station at the typical early morning time and saw signs blocking the entrance to her workplace.

"Good morning, Miss Mono!"

"Morning, Ingo." Sneasler turned to see Ingo, who lacked his black Subway Boss coat and hat but still wore his button shirt and pants. "I know I'm here because I messed up, I guess. But why are you here?"

"I need to make sure that maintenance occurs as smoothly as possible!" Ingo said. "That said, I only need to do periodic checks. After I complete this first morning check, would you like to accompany me for a train ride around Unova?"

"Just you? Emmet's not coming?" Sneasler almost asked about Elesa but stopped herself upon remembering that she left Nimbasa for a fashion show.

"Since I accepted the responsibility to watch over the Battle Subway, Emmet decided to try alternate routes for his weekend. We work together and have many common interests, but we don't always need to be a two-car train."

Sneasler turned her head so Ingo wouldn't see her cringe. Before she was kidnapped out of her time, Emmet had gotten better about going on separate missions without Ingo. But the literal and metaphorical scars remained. Once in a while, Emmet would suffer a panic attack if Ingo - or Eelektross or even her - were away for too long. He hated that it was still an issue, and so did she. One day I'm gonna kick Arceus' ass for the pain they caused, she thought.

She shook off the mental damage to continue her questioning. "Are you gonna be okay being gone from the station for a while? How long's the trip?"

"Less than two hours! We will return to Gear Station by the end, and there are no stops in between. This is purely a scenic trip!"

"...Okay. Why me?"

"Does there need to be a reason?" Ingo's eyes widened. "Wait, do you have another activity scheduled?"

Sneasler shrugged. Had she known, she could have at least slept in - though that's easier said than done, considering her recent insomnia. "Not really. Sure, I'll do a train ride."

"Excellent! Allow me to finish what I need to, and we will be off!" Ingo sped-walked past Mono before she could ask where she should wait.

---

Sneasler didn't wait long for Ingo. He led her to the wing of Gear Station she seldom visited beyond the her first day in Unova and ended up on a train. Unlike the Battle Subway's trains, they offered plenty of benches and tables for guests to rest at. She and Ingo took a car with no one else in it. Ingo chose a table, and Mono sat across from him, putting her basket next to her on the bench.

"Did you make that basket? It appears well-made and well-cared for," Ingo asked.

"Uh, thanks. It's... an heirloom," Mono said. This is going be a painful ride, isn't it?

The journey began. They started underground, but soon they popped out of a tunnel near Driftviel City. It was Sneasler's first time outside of Nimbasa. The mining city vaguely reminded her of the dungeons near Cobalt Coastlands.

Ingo interrupted Sneasler's musing. "Is something the matter, Miss Mono?"

Sneasler realized she had been staring at him. "Uh, no! I, uh, haven't been sleeping well. That's all."

"Oh, I'm sorry that you've been having such roadblocks. Is there anything I can can for you? Does your schedule need to be changed?"

"Nope, my work schedule is fine." Much to her chagrin, Ingo and Emmet trained Sneasler well to wake up at dawn. Even before then, she preferred mornings and daylight to night. "Don't worry about it, alright?"

"My job is to transport talented trainers to greater heights, and that includes the trainers helping us as well. On that topic, how are your pokemon doing? If I remember, your current team is a Croagunk, a Riolu, and a Whirlipede."

"Wow, you actually remembered that?" Does he usually remember different trainers' teams like that??

"Well, you only recently became a trainer, am I correct? Our guests who have battled against you certainly couldn't tell! You've been performing fantastically so far!"

Croagunk, Whirlipede, and Riolu fight well on their own. I'm just there pretending to guide them. "Got lucky, I guess."

"I don't think it's luck, Miss Mono."

I found Croagunk after he got abandoned by his trainer. Riolu was a stray on the outskirts of Nimbasa and needed a home. And meeting Whirlipede was an accident.

"Please do not discount yourself."

I'm not a trainer. I'm not supposed to be here.

"I think your journey has only just begun."

One of the doors opened. An Audino with a cart walked to Ingo and Mono's table. On top of the cart sat a kettle and bowls with colored packets, tiny cartons of liquid, and small sticks. On the secondary shelf were stacks of cups. "I have coffee!"

"Miss Mono, the coffee is complimentary. There's also a dining kart if you'd like to fuel yourself." Ingo took the cup Audino offer him. "Thank you very much," he said to the pokemon.

"Uh, thanks." Sneasler accepted her own cup. She stared at the dark liquid inside as Audino placed cups with packets and tiny cartons and a couple sticks on the table. She brought the cup to her nose and sniffed.

"Do you like coffee, Miss Mono?" Ingo asked as he prepared his own cup.

"Coffee, huh?" She sniffed again. It didn't smell bad. "I've seen Elesa drink this stuff, but I haven't yet."

"Really? I'm surprised."

"She's offered, but I just didn't feel like it. But, uh... here I go, I guess." Sneasler brought the cup to her lips and took in a mouthful of the liquid.

She slammed the cup to the table and covered her mouth with her hand lest she spit everything over poor Ingo.

"Are you alright?!" Ingo yelled loud enough that Audino, who left for another car, opened the door and ran to Ingo and Mono.

Sneasler waved at both Ingo and Audino with her free hand as she swallowed. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" She looked at Audino, who had placed her feelers on her chest. "No really, I'm alright."

"Okay... But I hope what's making you sad goes away..." Audino retracted her feelers and returned to the other car.

I heard that. "Sorry, Ingo. It was just really, really bitter, and I didn't expect it. Smelled and tasted really different."

"Hm, you do run into surprises in a journey sometimes. May I try something?" Ingo pointed to Mono's cup.

"If you want it, take it." Sneasler grabbed napkins and began wiping up the coffee that splashed out when she slammed the cup down.

Ingo grabbed a packet and a tiny carton and poured their contents into the cup. "I find black coffee too bitter to fully enjoy as well. That surprises people, but I'm not sure why." He stirred the mixture together with a stirring stick and then offered it to Mono. "I added cream and sugar to your drink, which is how I like it. I hope this is more palatable for you."

Sneasler glanced between Ingo and the cup. She grabbed the cup with a delicate hold and slowly took a sip. She braced for the bitterness, but the sweetness calmed down the bitterness like a Light Screen reducing a Psychic's damage. "That's not... terrible. I don't think I'll be drinking much coffee, though."

"That's alright! You need to know what works best for you, just like how you need to know how to keep a machine well-oiled!"

Sneasler chuckled. "Everything comes back to trains for you, huh?"

"Well, trains are fascinating! The way they're made, how they work, how precisely you can make schedules and get everyone to where they want at the right time! Why else would Emmet and I format a battle facility in a series of them? On that line of thought, why did you decide to work specifically at Gear Station? You said you weren't a pokemon trainer, so was there another reason?"

He's conveniently leaving out the part of our first meeting where I said I knew them, but okay. "I... Listen, I'm not that good with technology. I can get the gist of things, but it'll take me a bit to get used to them. But... I... I have two younger brothers that love trains." Sneasler's eyes widened as soon as she registered what she just said, but she could not take that back. "And... it's really nice to hear them excited. They've shown me books about them because they think it's fun to talk about them to someone who doesn't know squat. ...For a lot of reasons, I haven't been able to see them, and the Battle Subway... reminds me of them." She blinked more frequently as something welled behind her eyes.

Ingo's signature frown softened. "I see... Well, I'm glad to have you ride with us, and I hope you see your brothers soon."

"Me, too."

Ingo and Sneasler decided in silence to watch the view as their train passed by different areas. They breezed through forests, went through mountain tunnels and over bridges, and witnessed the sky turn from orange to blue. Ingo made comments about cities and landmarks but was clearly less energetic than before.

By the time they passed through Undella Town, Sneasler groaned, making Ingo jump. "Holy rift, I made this trip so awkward. I am so sorry."

"Please do not apologize! This has not been awkward for me, but does that mean it was awkward for you?" Ingo asked, frowning deeply.

"C'mon, stop deflecting. I can't believe you've always been like this."

"What do you mean?"

"It's been a bad trip, and you know it. I can see it in your face." Sneasler pointed at Ingo and traces circles in the air.

"Really? I've been told that I'm rather stiff..."

"Compared to Emmet, yeah, but... I can still see it." Sneasler sighed. "Maybe it would've been better if you just did this on your own."

ingo hummed. "If you hadn't been at Gear Station, I most likely would have gone on this train by myself. While that would have made for a fine trip, journeys are made better when shared with others." He looked into Mono's eyes. "Miss Mono, I know that Elesa has been a great help for you, but please also know that Emmet and I are here to help you move forward to your destination!"

Sneasler rested her head on her hands. "And dramatic as ever, too. I'll never understand how you always say stuff like that so sincerely."

"My job is to transport passengers along their journeys to greater heights. Why wouldn't I be happy about what I do?"

"The more you talk, the more you keep using Dig." Sneasler laughed as Ingo got more confused. "It's not a bad thing, Ingo. Don't change that part of you, okay?"

Ingo's eyes widened. "I... Thank you, Miss Mono. I shall do my best."

The rest of the trip was quiet, but with the air cleared, they watched the scenery change in comfort. Though fascinated with the shifting landscapes and cities, Sneasler took glances at Ingo. His human face was slightly harder for her to read than his Sneasel face, but he definitely relaxed into his seat.

Ingo said something about liking train rumbling, right? I guess that's why. ...Have I ever seen him like this? My ancestor definitely didn't. He doesn't really relax on vacations either. Maybe the warden and rescuer stuff takes more out of him than he wants to say? I know he enjoys it, but that responsibility...

I really am going to kick Arceus' ass one of these days.

***

When they returned to Gear Station, Ingo left to check on the status of maintenance, and Sneasler returned to her temporary home and take a nap. She didn't know why her body hurt more than normal. She decided to blame it on her weird human body.

Elesa described her apartment as small, but to Sneasler, it was massive compared to Ingo and Emmet's old tent at the Pearl Guild. She also gave Mono her own guest room, but the train ride tired her out so much that she crashed onto the rectangular but plush couch in the living room. She fell asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

The ringing of a bell woke Sneasler from her dreamless nap. She jumped to a sitting position, accidentally making Riolu and Croagunk fall off her and onto the floor.

"What the?" Sneasler cursed as she looked between the two dazed tiny pokemon and Whirlipede wrapped around her basket. "When did you guys get here?"

"Came outta our balls like an hour ago," Croagunk said.

"You looked comfy..." Riolu said.

The doorbell rang again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Sneasler combed her fingers through her hair to fix it. The ends curled back up to their usual position. She opened the door.

"I am Emmet. Hi there, Mono." Like Ingo, he did not wear his signature coat and hat, but his outfit was even more unfamiliar to Sneasler. His pants looked almost like normal ones, but the shirt had some sort of colorful floral pattern she didn't expect, let alone from him.

"Hi. Uh, if you're looking for Elesa, she's outta town right now," Sneasler said.

"I know. You have the day off, and so do I. Do you want to go somewhere with me?"

"First your brother, now you?! Is this some sort of new employee ritual thing, or...?"

"Not at all. I am just curious about you." Emmet smiled even more.

Sneasler sighed. "Alright, fine, I guess. Might as well. Why not?" She turned to her pokemon behind her. "You guys gonna be okay here?"

"You're not taking them with you?" Emmet stared intensely at Mono.

"Am... I supposed to?" Sneasler paused, then she added, "Are you gonna challenge me to a battle?!"

"Not today. For you safety, it is a good idea for pokemon trainers to have at least one pokemon with them at all times."

Why am I getting deja vu? "Alright. Everyone cool with coming with?" After a set of affirmative answers, she walked back to the couch where her basket rested next to. She kept her pokeballs inside, along with her hat and coat, the Toxic Plate, and other important items. "...Wait. Do you have a pokemon on you?"

"Of course!" Emmet said.

On cue, a Jotik popped his head out of the pocket on Emmet's shirt. "Hello!"

Sneasler stared at Emmet and Jotik in stunned silence. "Why am I surprised anymore?"

---

Emmet led Mono to Nimbasa City's amusement park while marching and swinging his arms straight, which was more impressive to witness compared to when he did it as a Sneasel.

"We have arrived at Ronde-View Ferris Wheel. Ronde-View Ferris Wheel," Emmet said while pointing at Mono.

"Elesa mentioned something about a "Ferris wheel". You just go around in a circle?" Sneasler asked.

"Correct. It is not a thrill ride, but they give us a good view of Nimbasa City. Are you afraid of heights?"

"No! I'm a rock climber, and you can't be a climber if you're afraid of heights!" Unless there's a bottomless Distortion World void beneath me, but that's just common sense.

"Rock climbing? Verrrry interesting." Emmet narrowed his eyes at Mono.

Sneasler narrowed her eyes back at him. "Yeah. Haven't done it in a while, though."

"Would you like to try today? A rock climbing wall was set up here recently."

"Wait, really? A wall that you just... climb? As a human?"

"'As a human'?" Emmet repeated.

"...Well, I'm just used to regular rocks and cliffs. That's all."

The ride operator stopped the wheel and let people exit a gondola. She approached the gate that Emmet and Mono stood at. "Hello! How many people do we have?"

"Two," Emmet said. "All aboard!"

The pokeball-shaped gondolas were large enough to fit at least four humans and maybe a few small pokemon. The pokeball designs were upside down, making the white half see-through for people to look out of. Mono stepped onto the gondola and got surprised when the floor gave under her weight.

"What the hell?!" Sneasler jumped backward, hitting Emmet with her basket. He quickly caught himself instead of falling.

"Oh, don't worry, Miss! Some of these cars can swing," the ride operator said. "If you'd like, you can wait behind the gate and the next car will stay still."

"That car would be preferable for both of us, I think. Please stand by, Mono," Emmet said, pointing to the line gate.

Sneasler reluctantly stood back and took the next gondola. To her relief, it remained still when she stepped onto it. She and Emmet took opposite seats. Once settled, the operator closed the door and started the ride.

"That was embarrassing," Sneasler said. "I just wanna say, I think the moving one would be fine. I just didn't expect it."

"You are fine, Mono. As I said, I like the cars that don't move. The wheel moves us, anyway." Emmet looked to their left. "I enjoy riding trains and running the Battle Subway. But I also like rides like this because I get a change in perspective."

"Change in perspective, huh?" Sneasler watched them slowly rise above the different buildings in the city. Previously, she could only get a view like this from climbing mountains or riding on Eelektross' back (though he couldn't for long). Not to mention that she mostly saw man-made buildings as ruins, as landmarks of times long past. Here, they were new and pristine.

"Now that our trip has begun, I need to ask you something," Emmet said. "Who are you?"

Sneasler blinked at him. "Is your memory alright? My name's Mono."

"You introduced yourself as Sneasler first."

Sneasler frowned. She mentally kicked herself for confusing Ingo and Emmet so much when they first saw each other. How was she supposed to know she ended up in Unova before Ingo went missing? "It's just a nickname. I mistook you two for someone else."

"Your nickname is the name of an extinct pokemon?"

"Extinct?!" No, wait, calm down! The Nobles weren't active when humans were around. Not extinct. Just in hiding. "I mean... yeah, weird name, it's a long story. And what does it matter?"

Emmet readjusted himself and leaned forward. "I'm just curious. You had a verrrry strong entrance. What is your goal? I want to see your track is going."

Sneasler groaned and put her head into her hands. "Why are you two like this? Ingo got done talking to me about basically the same thing!"

"Huh. I didn't know that. We took different lines but accidentally converged." Emmet smiled. "But I think he gets something different out of questions than I do. We see things differently, and that makes us strong together. I want to learn more! Where do you want your journey to go, Mono?"

"I..." Sneasler leaned back and lazily stared out the window to think. Talking with Ingo started this train of thought, and talking with Emmet needed to finish it.

I want to fucking go home. But I have no idea how to do that, so maybe if I get money, I can go to the Sinnoh region, find the Nobles of this era, and get them to help me. ...If I can find them. If they can get me in contact with Dialga or someone. Could they turn me back into a Sneasler? Ingo and Emmet kinda turned back, but they kinda didn't either. And there's no way I could become like what they are now!

"Mono?" Emmet asked. "Do you not have an answer? If so, that's fine. That's a valid feeling."

"No, I... I do, it's just..." There's no dungeons here. There's no Nobles or rescue teams or anything I know. I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know anything about being a trainer or being around humans. And just to top it all off, my body isn't mine anymore! Losing my memories would be a blessing at this point! Because at least I don't have to look at Emmet or Ingo and have them look back at me as a stranger!

The Ferris wheel stopped moving. Their gondola returned to ground level.

"Why are you crying?" Emmet reached into a different shirt pocket and offered Mono a tissue. "You really don't have to answer if you can't."

"Why do you care?! You don't even know me!" Sneasler stood up and grabbed her basket. She slammed open the cart and hopped over the exit gate. She looked down at the ground as she walked so that no one saw her tears.

She found a patch of grass and trees at the edge of the park. A shrill winding sound came from her basket, making her jump. Sneasler then nearly fall over as her basket got a heavy weight added inside that wasn't there before. After placing the basket down, she leaned on the tree and slid down to a sitting position. She covered her eyes with one hand.

"Sneasler?" Her Croagunk asked, having come out of his pokeball to face his trainer. "You wanna talk?"

"I am never gonna get used to that pokeball sound." She unlocked the latch on her basket and slapped the top off. "Why are you here?"

Croagunk popped his head out. "You're crying and stormed off from your friend and you're surprised I wanna ask why?"

Sneasler sighed. "Stop pretending you care. I only caught you so I could pretend I'm a trainer."

"You do realize that you totally are a pokemon trainer by now, between me and Riolu and Whirlipede?"

"I'm not a pokemon trainer!"

"Then what are you?"

"I... I don't know anymore, damn it! Like, I was just a Sneasel with a Noble mom. Then my mom died, I had to evolve to a Sneasler take over her title, which sounds great, but it's not! Because everyone wants you to be the ultimate rescuer with super strength and memories from past Nobles and other weird powers! And then a whole bunch of shit happened and everyone became convinced Ingo and Emmet are my younger brothers which is fine! I guess! Because pokemon and even the other Nobles started to respect me more!

"And then! AND THEN!" Sneasler took a deep breath. "Without an ounce of warning, I wake up! In a different time period! In a totally different world! I've never been around humans, I only have memories of them, and even THOSE are vague at best, and now I have to ACT like one?! I had claws for climbing, and now I have weak, soft fingers and nails that break under the slightest load! My back hurts if I carry my basket for too long which NEVER used to happen! I have to pretend to not know what every pokemon I hear is saying!" Sneasler pinched her cheeks. "And to top it all off, whoever did this to me decided to give me a face that looks like Ingo and Emmet's! But they don't know me! And they're the only people in this world I should know but I don't!"

Croagunk tilted his head to look at someone behind Mono and wave. "Hi there, Emmet."

Sneasler scrambled to standing position. Though absolutely terrified, she needed to see if Croagunk told the truth. Unfortunately for her, there Emmet stood, his face frozen and his smile open, wanting to say something but no sound coming out.

Sneasler recalled Uxie's description of when Arceus took Ingo: the world opened up below Ingo and Emmet. They were sucked down until the portal touched one of them and threw out the other. Since Arceus thought Ingo and Emmet were two of the same person, maybe they would think the same thing of her. If Arceus opened a portal right below her feet, she would fall in first and then touch the portal first and leave Emmet and Ingo alone. They're left behind while thinking they lost a weird employee. Nothing of value was lost. But that would mean she becomes a target of Chained Giratina. She could weather a blow if she was still a Sneasler, but as a weak, squishy human? She could die and be unable to return home. And Dialga would likely become upset at the time paradox this scenario would definitely make.

She would rather face an enraged Dialga than explain to Emmet what he just heard.

"...How much of that did you get?" Mono asked, voice just above a whisper.

"Not all of it, I think," Emmet said. "...Do you want another few days off? There's some new tech in Paldea. There's something about being able to feel what it's like to become a pokemon."

Sneasler's face started to turn red. "If I'm flying somewhere, I'd rather go someplace else." Namely, the Sinnoh region. "And right now? I'd rather go home. Just forget everything, okay? Forget everything I ever said, and I'm not bothering you or Ingo ever again, okay?!"

Emmet placed a hand on Mono's shoulder. "You are not the first human who wants to be a pokemon. I've thought about it when I was younger."

Sneasler facepalmed. Somehow, that's worse than if he found out the truth. But at least that means he's not paying attention to me "knowing" him. "Emmet. I'm asking a lot as someone you don't know well." She grabbed his shoulders. "But please don't tell people about this. It's... embarrassing."

"Sure." He presented the tissue that he tried to offer her before. "Once you are ready, do you want to try that rock climbing wall? Would that help you feel better?" Emmet pointed in the direction of the attraction.

Sneasler sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She took his tissue and cleaned up the leftover tears. "It might, it might not, but you'll know either way, I guess??" She grabbed her basket, surprised it wasn't as heavy as before. Croagunk returned to the ball, I guess. "Let's go. All aboard, conductor."

A short walk later, Sneasler saw what Emmet talked about. Calling it a wall for climbing would be generous at best. It was maybe 15 meters high, adorned with candy-colored rocks, and surrounded by soft-looking mats.

"You sure it's for adults? Adult humans?" Sneasler asked. She imagined her mom using a wall like that to teach her how to climb.

"Of course it is." Before waiting for a reply, he walked to the line.

Oh. He just wants to try climbing. That's why he's still hanging out with me. May as well join him and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Sneasler sighed and followed behind Emmet.

Different humans - some kids, some adults - stepped up for the opportunity to climb. They wrapped straps around their waists, which connected to a pulley and then to the operator's pokemon, a Sawk and a Throh. Some people didn't reach the top, but those that did rang a bell hanging there next to some Pidoves. The human running the area had a remote connected to a couple timers. Even small pokemon were allowed to give it a shot, though she noted that none of them were natural climbers.

"We're next. All aboard!" Emmet said as the gate opened to let them in.

"Do you know how to climb, Emmet?" Sneasler asked. The mats squished under her feet, confirming her suspicion of being soft.

"No, but trying could be fun!" Emmet smiled even more.

"Whoa, you already have a harness?" The operator asked, looking at Mono.

"Unbelievably, yes," Sneasler said. When she woke up in this world, she wore the coat and hat the twins gifted her and her basket that still contained the Poison Plate. All the other clothes she arrived in were already on her person: the shirt with a fluffy collar, pants, boots, and fake gemstone decorations. She didn't even know what the harness was until Elesa explained it.

The operator hooked her and Emmet to the safety system and then gave them tips for climbing that Sneasler did not listen to. She stared at her hands. This isn't gonna end well. There's too many humans around looking at us. Is it because of Emmet? I haven't tried climbing with this body yet, but I hate not having my claws. Is this how they felt in their Sneasel bodies?

"Uh, miss? Don't you want to take off your backpack?" the operator asked.

"Nope." Sneasler readjusted her basket for stability. "You ready, Emmet?"

Emmet nodded. "Follow the rules. Safe driving! Follow the schedule. Everybody smile!"

As soon as Emmet began reciting his mantra, Sneasler joined in without even thinking about it. When she realized what she was doing, she turned her head to Emmet, who stared back with wide eyes as he kept going. Sorry Emmet, you've said it so much that it burrowed into me.

"Check safety. Everything's ready! Aim for victory! All aboard!" Emmet and Mono finished together. The operator wisely decided to start the timer right then.

Sneasler jumped and grabbed two rocks. She tapped her nails against the colored rocks protruding from the gray wall, hearing and feeling an unnatural hardness and hollowness. Her fingers couldn't dig into the material. She placed her feet on two rocks, and even though she couldn't feel them through the boots, it was sturdy enough to support her weight.

One foot up. Her leg extended, and she grabbed higher rocks. Another step gave her more height. And another. The colored rocks looked like child's play, but they provided a clear, stable path despite their strange and varied shapes. Her body was weaker, but it possessed enough strength to keep her grip and climb at a steady pace. Even as the steepness increased, she was too focused to let it slip her up.

Before she knew, the bell hanged right above her head. With her feet and hands firmly planted, she grabbed the rope and rang the bell for all to hear.

"YES! I can still climb!" In Sneasler's elation, she lost her grip on the wall. She half-expected a certain ghost's Psychic to catch her, but instead, a tug on her harness indicated that the operator's pokemon held her rope, letting her hang in the air. Below her came claps and cheers, but she looked down to find one person in particular.

"You won! That was fun! You did great, Mono!" Emmet near-shouted. He managed to climb halfway up the wall, which Sneasler did not expect, given his thin frame. He let go of the wall without an ounce of fear.

When they were lowered and touched ground, the operator ran at Sneasler. "You climbed that wall in 15 seconds! That's a new record! What's your name, miss?"

"Uh... Mono." I could've done it in half that time if I was still a Sneasler.

"Thank you for climbing with us! Here's your prize!" The operator reached into a pack connected to his belt and pulled out four tickets.

Sneasler snatched the pieces of paper. "Free... Casteliacone... voucher?" She looked at Emmet. "The hell's a Casteliacone?"

"It's a soft serve ice cream. You can get them in Castelia City, which is south from Nimbasa City," Emmet said.

"Oh. Nice." She turned to the operator. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

After Mono and Emmet left the rock climbing area, they found a bench next to a dedicated space to let their pokemon roam. Besides the Joltik from his pocket, Emmet also let Archeops, Durant, and Crustle. Croagunk and Riolu hanged out in their own area, but Whirlipede ran with Archeops for a race - which Sneasler overheard.

"Do you feel better now, Mono?" Emmet asked.

"Kinda." Her fingertips turned red and tough from the exertion. She turned her palm around to stare at the design of her fingerless gloves. "...Sorry for getting mad at you."

"You're not the first. But that climb was amazing. I was hoping for a competition, but I completely lost. It was so fun!" Emmet said. "Yep. You're definitely someone I want to watch for more than one reason. These are the only three pokemon you have?"

"Yep. I have my hands pretty full right now. Why?" she asked, but she already knew what his answer would be.

"When you find a fourth, you should try working for me on the Doubles Line."

"...When? Not if?" Sneasler turned to Emmet and raised an eyebrow.

"Correct. And when you get stronger, you should face me in a battle - after you face 20 trainers first, that is." Emmet smiled even wider.

Sneasler sighed. "You really were always like this, too, huh?"

"Yes? One day, you should also tell us why you act so casually with me and my brother!"

"I said you needed to forget that!" Sneasler once again promised herself to kick the butt of Arceus and whoever is responsible for her predicament.

#pmd ltot swap au #pmd au #do I tag submas?#it's been a bit since i've written for these guys and i think it shows #doesn't help that i have to write ingo and emmet slightly different than i have before #and that we get more directly into sneasler's/mono's head #will we get more? WHO KNOWS! CUZ I DON'T!#swap au #forgot the most important tag lmao

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