"I THINK I LIKE ARMIN ARLERT."
"CONGRATULATIONS ON BEING THE LAST TO FIND OUT."
romeo and juliet reborn
in the 2000's as two high
schoolers but ones
a PC obsessed anime geek
and the others a total
bitch with designer shoes.
social hierarchy quee...
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GRICE! GRICE! GRICE!
the night was going incredibly smoothly, with no sights set on anybody or anything besides the cold cup of alcohol you were in the process of getting a refill on.
connie'd been working bartender again tonight, acting like he knew what mixed drinks were but was really just using anything on the counter that'd get people fucked up. pictures of that would for sure be going on his meme page. it was currently on hiatus ever since mr. ackerman got posted, earning a concerning death threat and conference about the invasion of privacy. plus, he'd been leading this rumor (which was actually backed up with proof via his weird appearances in alleyways near school) of him being an underground boss.
sasha was happily dancing away with niccolo under the flashing lights, ymir was out smoking a joint with some stoner kids, historia was chatting by the pool with a few girls from the cheer squad, and jean kirstein was nowhere to be seen. so yeah, the night was going insanely well if you did say so yourself.
not to mention the lack of a certain blonde haired duo whom you'd rather not name at a time so full of joy.
but now...now it was all going to shit with the random chant of your last name. people turned in the direction you'd been pushing through from, inching closer to get a better view of whatever disaster seemed to concern your lineage.
"yo (y/n), is that your brother?" "that kids a beast!" "there's no way he's stomaching all that."
with a mere five people left to be pushed to the side, from the top of their heads jean's upper frame popped out, most likely standing on something that made him significantly taller.
his presence along with the mention of your last name and supposed brother was definitely leading you to believe there was nothing good lying up ahead. of course it had to be one of them who'd ruin such a joyful moment, that was like their forte.
as your hand finally managed to shove the last person standing in the way, the sight of an upcoming ass-kicking was awaiting. a rough, well-deserved ass-kicking.
"colt?"
did he not understand the language in which you spoke. you clearly told him that his ass was formally not invited! even worse, the crowd was able to piece together that you were related to the weird freshman who was crashing historias iconic annual halloween party.
your little shit of a brother who was precisely ordered to babysit your other little shit brother was chugging god knows what through a damn funnel tube the size of a snake.
colt's stomach was comparable to a wild boars, an animal. he'd been stomaching weird food combos, energy drinks, and hot chips since he was born. there was no match for how much red40 that kid had already consumed in his lifetime.
