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tsukkismoonlight · 26 days
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I am not awake enough for this booping thing going on i havent a clue what im doing
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tsukkismoonlight · 1 month
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Hi, im the one that made the Izana request. I just wanted to say thank you for letting me know I really appreciate it and I’m sorry for the late response.
Hi hi!! So sorry i just saw this 😭😭 i am actually almost done with the req! It kind of got away from me so its a little long lmao
I would have gotten it done sooner but work has been kicking my ass 😭 but !! Im thinking i should have it done like today or tomorrow i think 🤔
Anyways!!! I really appreciate the req and coming back!!
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tsukkismoonlight · 2 months
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Btw to the anon who sent in the izana req,,, i saw it and i will work on that !!!
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tsukkismoonlight · 3 months
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tsukkismoonlight · 4 months
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When It Comes To You || J.K × Reader
Summary: You've somehow gotten stuck with the most obnoxious (Minus boy genius Armin Arlert) group ever for a college class project. Eren Jeager, and Jean Kirstein. The latter of which seems to find a way to weasel his way into your life, making your plans for a quiet college experience fall away.
Author's Note: okay, like a year and some odd change in months later i'm finally posting this fic!! Honestly life kinda got in the way but we all know how it is. Anywayyyys, I hope yall enjoy! This is my first longer fic, so let me know what you guys think! Also super big shoutout to my buddies on discord for beta reading the first portion of this! <3 wk: 16.7k
Warnings: unedited, probably ooc characteristics who knows
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"Would you two knock it off?" were your first words since the two bone-headed, annoying, loud-mouthed boys had started arguing. 
Here you were, in an empty classroom, supposed to be working on a group project for at least an hour or two, and the /only/ thing that your group had done was bicker back and forth. 
The first of the two boneheads, Eren Jeager, had spent the whole time insisting on his ideas, and his ideas alone, while the other, Jean Kirstein, had only been arguing that the former's ideas were stupid and that 'if anything, Eren should shut his trap and just do the grunt work.'
The blonde, Armin Arlert, was clearly just as done with them, but took a more quiet approach to trying to stop them. Any time he could interject, he tried to reason with the two, but of course neither would listen. 
So, when you stood up, slamming your palms onto the table and shouting at them, all three of them quickly grew quiet. "We only have so much time to work on this project, and I am /not/ going to fail this project because you two idiots can't let go of your egos for more than two seconds!" 
"Well, maybe if this asshole would-" Eren started, mostly keeping his voice at a low grumble, sounding like a scolded child.
Jean, cutting Eren's words short while crossing his arms across his chest, "Oh yeah, /I'm/ the asshole here…"
But with another of your glares sent to both of them, the two stopped once more.
"Maybe we should split up the work?" Armin was already writing out two plans, where you could make out his name and Eren, meaning that you were stuck with Jean. 
Not that you wanted to be with either of them. You'd rather take Armin and just leave the other two to fail. But, as this was a group project, Professor Hange had made it clear that points were to be docked for any group that did not complete the assignment together.  
You plopped back into your seat, sighing heavily. "Okay, we will work in two groups. Looks like Eren, you're going with Armin, and Jean, you're with me." You paused as Armin slid over the paper he had drafted up. 
Glancing over it, you could see that he had given you and Jean a good amount of work, yet he had still given himself more. Part of you wanted to point it out, maybe even offer to take some of the load, but the other part of you knew that Armin would refuse and somehow make it sound like the nicest thing he'd ever do.
"Okay, so, from there, once all the research is done, Armin and I will meet up in person to work on the presentation bits, which means that Eren and Jean, you will only need to put your findings in a document for us. That should be easy enough." 
When no one objected, you started to pack up your things.You waited for Jean to take a picture of the draft before tucking it away in a folder carefully. 
Around you, the others started to do the same. With a small breath of relief, you finished packing up and slung your bag over your shoulders, looking to each of your groupmates slowly. "If anyone has questions,” you announced, “please text me. I gave Armin my number already, but if you need mine, ask now."
Eren slid his phone across the table to you, a sour look on his face, as he was clearly upset with the whole situation, and the fact that he had been yelled at over it. You ignored his attitude and typed in your number before returning the phone to him.
Next was Jean, who looked at you for a few moments, then handed his phone over to you, where you repeated the process of saving your number for him. 
With that done you set off to your dorm.You didn't live alone, but it was bound to be a wonderful change in pace (and in volume levels). When you arrived, you slipped your shoes off and headed for your room, pausing for a second as you saw one of your roommate and probably your closest friend Sasha Braus. Currently she was sitting on the floor of her room, clutching a bowl of soup…or what was probably a bowl of soup, as it was empty now. 
"Oh, hey! You're back already?" she asked, turning to you with a spoon dangling from her mouth. It caused a slight slur in her words, so it came out more like, "Ohhh, heyyy, yer bick alreaty?"
With a sigh, you walked into her room, dropping your bag by the door before flopping onto her bed (which was incredibly comfortable). "Yeah, I called it quits early because I got paired with Armin, Jean, and Eren, and Armin is fine and all, but your stupid friend and Eren can't go more than five seconds without fighting." 
You could hear a soft clink as Sasha put her spoon down. "Well, it always works for me to hit them." 
"I can't hit my group mates…even if I want to," you grumbled, rolling over onto your side so you could see her.
"I can hit them for you then, just tell me when and where." She flexed her arms, raising her eyebrows up and down at you as she did so. 
This caused a breathy laugh to come from you. You could feel yourself starting to relax. Your two roommates were probably the only reason that you had stayed sane so far. 
Sasha was always good at getting you to smile, at times she wouldn't stop until you showed some sign of positivity. And of course you were more than grateful for it. 
When you had first moved to the dorms, you had kept to yourself, unsure if you really liked her at all. But with time, you warmed up to her easily. 
There had been a handful of nights where she would invite you to stay up and just talk, or watch some movie. And, at times, she would share food with you, which you learned wasn't always her favorite thing to do. 
"Hey, one of these days we need to catch up on Food wars." 
You looked back to her, nodding along, "Oh for sure! Maybe sometime this next week I can stay up with you and we can watch it. Maybe buy some junk food too." 
At the prospect of snacks, she perked up even more. "Can we get-"
"Yes, we can get the baked potato flavored chips." 
"You didn't even let me finish!" Sasha pouted a little, though still unable to hide her excitement at the confirmation of her favorite snack.
You reached down and flicked her forehead lightly, "Well I already knew what you were going to say. It wasn't hard to figure out."
"Hey! I could have asked for something different! Like, salt and vinegar ones!" 
"You don't even like those, and neither do I. We wouldn't ever buy any." 
The two of you talked for another five or so minutes until she had to leave, shouting something about Connie Springer owing her dinner. You took the time to go back into your own room which you actually shared with a third roommate ( neither of you wanted to share a room with Sasha because of her snoring). However, he wasn't home yet, which meant that he'd probably be back late.
You pulled your laptop out of your bag and plugged it in; then you went to grab your notebooks, some pens and pencils, and finally your copy of the book for your project. It was best to get a headstart on the project, as it was worth most of your grade. 
Professor Hange had assigned the class to read and analyze an old book written by a nameless author. The idea and plot was interesting to a point. It was a war between mere humans, and a race of humans that could take control of what they called titans. The main two parties at war were named Marley and Eldia, both of which claimed that the other was in the wrong, and had vowed to take revenge, wanting to eradicate the other's existence. Towards the end, there was something of a compromise, and Marley seemed to come out victorious. All in all, there was a lot more to it, and the details were typically gorey and morally wrong. The ending wasn't ever written, leaving all readers to question what they knew and what they may not have been told. 
This is where your project came in: you were to try and look into the book, outside sources, even artwork, whatever the class could get their hands on, and work on an analysis. Hange hadn't given many guidelines; they wanted to leave it open and see what the class would come up with. Your group hadn't made a decision yet, but so far, Eren was dead set on writing an analysis on who he thought was right and freedom and some other crap, while Jean only had talked about how Eren was wrong. 
Luckily enough, Armin had already written up a potential analysis summary, one that focused on how the two sides were similar and what they shared in common with the rest of humanity, and how trying to pick a side would only allow their bloody history to repeat again. His was rather long winded, but it allowed for you to pick and choose the best parts, and what you guys wouldn't really need. 
You spent some time searching the internet for more sources, coming across a few articles on what could be a deeper meaning to the story, and a few on what could have been the rest of the world's view on both Marley and Eldia. 
That was when you came across a page for the local museum; it seemed that there was going to be an exhibit about the book, featuring many different artists and even some written works. Taking a moment to write down the dates and price for tickets in your phone’s note app. You then sent a quick text to Armin about it, letting him know that if he wanted, you could go and check it out with Jean. 
Clicking your phone off, you gave a heavy sigh and stood up, pulling your arms above your head in a stretch before continuing to work on the project. You knew that you should probably eat something, and drink some water, as you hadn’t really been able to do so in the last few hours. But with the project being so important, you decided against getting back up. If you got up now, chances were that you’d end up wasting some time doing who knows what. You really needed to just focus on your work, food, water and relaxing could come later. This was typical for you, what was one more time anyways?
Quietly, your afternoon quickly turned to night, and you wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for both of your roommates crashing into your room. 
You turned around, eyeballing Sasha and your third roommate, Marco Bodt, unsure if you really wanted to ask questions. 
"She was drinking with Connie at his place," 
"Huh? Noo I waz'nt ! Conn and I were jus playin a game an' then…and then..mmkay maybe I was drinking, but!" Sasha rambles on for a minute, still leaning heavily on Marco, who just gave a half hearted and weary smile. 
You shook your head, and stood up, making your way over to Sasha taking her off Marco's hands "Was Connie like this too?" you asked.
"Yeah, he and Jean both…" Marco sighed, following you as you took Sasha to her room. While you carefully put her in her bed,  Marco pulled her shoes off for her. 
At his words, you paused for just a moment then you continued to fish Sasha's phone from her pocket, placing it on the charger for her. 
"Of course, Jean was drinking, too." you remarked. You tried your best to ignore the irritation rising in you. It wasn't like you guys had to get the whole project done right away, or that Jean couldn't enjoy a drink with his friends. But, it wouldn't surprise you if only Armin and yourself had been the only two to even start.
As the two of you left Sasha to sleep, Marco motioned to the kitchen, saying, "Hungry?" You gave a small nod in response.
Once in the small kitchen area, you hopped onto the counter while your roommate got to work on making something simple. From the looks of it, he was just making mac and cheese, but you couldn't really care less. You hadn't noticed it earlier, but you were actually starving. 
A quiet buzz from your pocket pulled your attention from Marco cooking, and you pulled your phone out, seeing a few messages from an unsaved number. 
"Heyy, it's me"
"Jean"
"just figured i'd text you since we have be partners"
"Not complaining cause i dont wanna be stuck with eren" 
You shook your head at your phone, typing a quick reply back, “Wow really? I couldn’t tell.”
Another buzz, another incoming message, “I really hate that guy. He’s stuck up, and always thinks he’s right”
“You know, I feel like there’s someone else like that too.” You sucked in a deep breath, already feeling a tinge of annoyance creeping its way into your body. Sure, Jean was bound to be the better of the two, but that didn’t mean that you wanted him texting you about his testosterone fueled hatred for Eren.
A few moments pass before he texts you again, the words a little hard to make out at first, “you better not be implying that im like him”
“I would never do that. You are an okay person in my eyes”
“Just okay? I’m fuckin’ great!”
“Yeahh, sure. I agree with you, 100%”
You could almost feel his skeptical gaze through your phone as he sent yet another message, “I dont know if I believe that.”
“I dont care if you believe it or not tbh”
“I cant tell if you like me or not”
At this, you paused. You didn’t really know the guy outside of what you were told by Marco and Sasha. And he definitely did not know you. If he did, he wouldn’t be bothering you right now. But as much as that all was true, you also didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t like him, at least not over text while he was suspiciously hitting you up out of the blue.
“im not sure if like is the right word. Right now I tolerate you.” 
“Thats a good thing right?”
You didn’t answer, figuring that he would eventually get the hint. But, within minutes, he was texting you yet again. You watched as more messages popped up one by one, all of which just as hard to read as the others. Though you eventually figured them out. He was promising to do his share of the project, as well as promising to keep on schedule with it. The last thing he sent was asking to meet up tomorrow, and figure out what you wanted him to do, and something about how he couldn't really understand the guideline sheet. 
You sent a quick reply, just a place and a time, before returning your phone to your pocket, and just in time, Marco had a bowl of delicious mac and cheese for you. 
"Thanks man, you're the best." 
"Hey, you cooked last night," he said, shrugging, "and somehow it was pretty impressive, given the fact that we're all super broke and have next to nothing in our cupboards," 
You let out a small laugh at that. "I am a person of many talents."
"Do tell your secrets, as I am eager to know," Marco says in-between bites, playing into the bit.
"Oh, I couldn't, because then you would have to learn my /tragic/ backstory of how I had to fend for myself as a child." You dramatically sigh, placing a hand to your forehead, and then paused, peeking out at Marco before saying, "That part is actually true. At my house, we often had 'Fend for Yourself Nights' where you kinda just threw stuff together it could be leftovers, cereal or, like, dry ramen." 
Marco chuckles, pointing his fork at you and saying "So that must be the secret then!" 
The kitchen rendezvous went on for a while longer before you both headed off to bed, agreeing that Sasha can do the dishes when she wakes up. 
The next day, you had managed to drag yourself out of bed and find your way to the coffee shop where you were supposed to be meeting up with Jean. 
Key word is 'supposed' to be, since it had been 30 minutes since you had gotten there. Hopefully, you didn't look like some poor soul that had gotten stood up on a date and more like someone enjoying their Saturday morning. 
Another ten minutes passed, and no word from Jean, you had finished your coffee, and had already finished working on pulling out key information from a few of the web sources that you found the night before. 
You glanced at the time again and cursed under your breath. You had better things to be doing. So, you quickly pack up your things and toss out the trash before leaving.  
Just as you returned to the little table to grab your bag, the bell at the door chimed, drawing your attention.  
There stood Jean Kirstein himself, out of breath, hair hastily brushed out of his face, and clothes a whole mess…you were pretty sure he had worn them yesterday too. 
However, his sudden entrance had also gathered stares from everyone in the shop;most people looked on with a frown, questioning why he had just thrown open the door like that, just to stand there looking like a lost puppy. 
You groaned, marching towards him and then grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the way. 
"Seriously? You show up almost an hour late, and make a big scene?!" you say, continuing to pull him down the sidewalk.
"I know, I know!" He took in a sharp breath, stumbling as he went. 
"I mean seriously?! What's your deal?" 
"I didn't mean to be late! And can you stop shouting? My head is killing me…" 
You came to an abrupt stop and turned around to face him. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to be late, you were still late! I mean, come on, I sat there and looked completely stupid while I waited!" 
At your words, he tugged his arm free from your grasp, and hesitated for a moment before, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry. I should have been here on time." 
"Or at least texted me to tell me!" You sighed, bringing a hand up to your temple. "Whatever, let's just find somewhere else to sit and I can show you what your part of the project is." 
With those words, the two of you walked in silence until you were back at campus, arriving at one of the rooms designated for studying. It didn't take long to run through Jean's responsibilities, and for you both to settle into a somewhat uncomfortable quiet and begin to work. 
Currently, you were taking the information gathered earlier and writing them into evidence for your thesis while Jean was searching for art pieces to analyze. 
Every fifteen to twenty minutes or so, you'd check in with eachother and help if needed-and Jean needed more help than you did, really. 
And maybe if he hadn’t spammed you with drunk texts the night before, and then came late to your meeting, it wouldnt have bothered you as much. So when he did ask for your help, you were being short and to the point. Luckily for you, helping him was easy. It consisted of choosing between artwork, and identifying key themes or details that stood out, and then giving him ways to write it down so that it made sense with the overall idea behind your project. Now and then, you'd have him read over what you wrote, just to see what all he thought and if he had any suggestions.
Finally, after a few hours, Jean leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. "Okay, I think we've got a lot done. Why don't we break for the day?" he suggested.
At his words, you hesitated. While a break did sound nice, you'd much rather keep working. If you got ahead, there'd be time for breaks later, or time for helping Armin and the others. 
"You go on ahead, I'm going to stay a little longer. Thanks for showing up today." You gave a small smile before looking back down to your laptop, trying to spot where you left off. 
For a moment or so, Jean packed up his things, not necessarily quietly, but enough for it not to bother you. Though, after he finished doing so, he didn't leave. Instead, he stood /annoyingly/ close to you, seemingly trying to burn holes into the back of your head. 
"Is there something you need or…?" 
"You're seriously going to stay and work more?" 
"...Yeah?" 
Jean let out a small series of 'tsk' noises and began to close your notebooks and the few textbooks you had brought. You stuttered out half of a sentence, none of it making any sense, as you watched him stack up your things, his finishing move to carefully close your laptop without even shutting it off. 
"What are you…Why…I mean-what?" 
"I think you work too hard." he remarked, grinning. Normally that would sound snarky coming from him, this time he sounded gentle, and nothing in his face seemed to show any ill will. "I mean, I've never seen you do anything fun. All you do is push yourself to do work." 
You were at a loss for words, face heating up with embarrassment. Just because he had never seen you do fun things didn't mean that you were some sort of shut in who only ever focused on homework and studying. 
Jean waited for you to pack your things, all of which you did while in a small haze, trying to comprehend it all. When you were done, he motioned for you to follow him, not saying a word of what he had planned. 
The two of you walked outside, Jean slightly ahead of you as he continued to lead the way. Occasionally, someone would stop Jean, asking him about a party or a class. He seemed to have a lot of friends, or rather just a lot of acquaintances.
Eventually, you both came to a little grassy field, one where students often came to waste time, or play games like spikeball, or frisbee. Currently, it wasn't very busy, and the two of you found a spot to sit and relax under a warm spring sky.
For the first five minutes, you sat in silence, an almost comfortable one. You found yourself mumbling about how this wasn't so bad, noticing from the corner of your eye as Jean turned to look at you. 
"Would I ever lead you astray?" Jean elbowed you carefully, earning a scowl from you. 
"Given that we don't really know each other, I'm not sure," you retorted. 
"I know that we've had at least three classes together since freshman year, and that you don't seem to like anyone," he pointed out. 
"Not true,” you said. “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot," 
At this he barked out a laugh, a wonderful sound really, compared to his typical evil sounding snicker. "Okay, so you appreciate the presence of three specific people." 
"Three? I only named two people," you said, holding up two fingers to signify your only two friends. 
"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but right now you don't seem to hate me, so I counted myself."
You gave another scowl."If we were able to pick our own groups, I would have picked other people, just for the record" 
"Ouch, that kind of stings." 
You couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but one thing you did know was that he probably wouldn't have picked you either.  Not that it really bothered you. While it was true that you've shared classes in the two years that you've been in college, the two of you never really talked. 
Sure, you've had the quick conversations in the hall, or maybe accidentally bumped into each other when trying to take Sasha home, or even just when Jean would hang out with Marco at your dorm. 
It wasn't that you didn't like him (aside from his huge ego and inability to get along with certain people) or even that you didn't like people in general. You honestly just wanted to focus on school, so that you would graduate on time, and get the hell out of this town. Personal relationships could come later, and you were completely content with that. Being alone wasn't something that bothered you. Or, something that you /let/ bother you. 
You leaned back until you were laying down in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky. The more you thought about it, the more your head seemed to churn with an anxious and maybe even guilty conscience. 
"By the way, I'd say that, even though we didn't get to pick our own groups, I don't mind being paired with you." You sighed, keeping your eyes trained on the sky as Jean laid down next to you. 
From there, the conversation switched to a few different topics, one of them being a small argument over the particular shape of a cloud and what you thought it was. 
Eventually, the clouds dissipated, and the sky faded from its blue to a dusty orange lined with a pale pink-ish-purple. 
"I guess it's time to go home for the night," Jean said. 
"Mhm, guess so," you quietly said, but made no effort to sit up yet. 
Next to you, Jean stood, brushing off his clothes and running a hand through his hair, attempting to make sure there wasn't any grass on his person. Then, when it was apparent that you still hadn't even moved, he nudged you with his shoe. "You coming or what?" 
"I’m waiting," 
"For what?" 
"The first star I see" 
Jean slowly looked away from you and to the sky, "Can I ask why?" 
"No." 
It wasn't really a big deal, but this was your favorite time of the day, and you had the habit of looking for the first star you could find and making a small wish on it. It had been something you'd done ever since you were a kid; old habits die hard. But it wasn't something you just went and told people about, especially not someone like Jean. You were sure that he'd poke fun at you for it. 
His voice pulled you away from your thoughts, and you watched as he pointed just above your heads. "I think there's one over there." 
From your perspective, he was lined up to where the star was atop his finger.The sight made you smile softly; you didn’t notice that he had glanced back down, watching the small moment. 
"Okay, now we can go." You sat up slowly and climbed to your feet, grabbing your bag from where it had been by your feet. 
The two of you parted ways for the night, and you found yourself back at your dorm, which was uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Either Sasha would come home drunk again (or with her hands full of food that she got from Connie or that Niccolo guy) or that she would stay out for the night. Marco on the other hand, was probably visiting some other friends for the short weekend, so most likely, you had the place to yourself until the following evening. 
With the freedom at hand, you took some time to make dinner and lounged around the shared living space, until eventually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you forced yourself into your bed for the night.
The sound of knocking at your door woke you up. At first, you had half a mind to ignore it, but with your roommates, and the friends they had, the knocking wouldn't stop.  You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was around noon, a time that you hardly ever slept in till.
"Yeah, okay, I'm up. Who is it?" you grumbled at the door, noting that if it was Marco, he wouldn't necessarily need to knock, meaning that it must be Sasha. 
And it was. At your words, she swung the door open lazily, and leaned around the corner, "Heyyy, I was wondering if you had plans today? Connie, Jean, and I were going to play some volleyball! Wanna come? Marco is gonna join us later!" 
You took a moment to think it over. It was Sunday, so you didn't have classes, and depending on how long you were out, you could always do more homework later. Not to mention, Jean's comment about how you worked too much was still fresh in your mind. 
"...Yeah, okay, I'll come play. Give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed." 
She gave you a huge grin, shouting over her shoulder, "They said they'd come! You guys still have the net?" 
You watched as she disappeared back into the main area of the dorm, and then shut your door to change. When you exited, you could see the three of them waiting by the door, Jean holding the net, while Connie was tossing the ball between his hands. 
The walk was fairly short, as Jean had suggested the field that the two of you had been at the other day, and just like the day before, there weren't very many people out. You guys could set up a spot without having to worry about anyone else. 
At least, that's how it was at first. The game went smoothly. Surprisingly, all three of them were pretty good at the sport; though, if you had to rank them, it would be Sasha, then Jean (mostly because he can use his height to his advantage), and then Connie. 
For the first game you played, it was you and Sasha versus Jean and Connie. Then, it switched to you and Connie, and finally, you and Jean. 
No one was really counting points; no one could keep track, though each side was sure that they were winning, even if they weren't. It was about halfway through the current match, right as you were about to serve, when something came crashing into your head. 
It had hit you pretty hard, and it took you a moment to even realize what had happened and what was currently happening. 
"Hey, man, watch where you throw this thing! You nearly took my partner out!" Jean was holding a football and pointing it aggressively at another college student, who you think was named Floch or something close to it. 
The guy snatched the ball from Jean, giving him the dirtiest look. "Well, maybe you guys shouldn't be playing so close to where we are." 
At this, Connie and Sasha stepped up. Connie took to Jean's side, starting to bicker with the guy, while Sasha checked your head, fussing over you. 
"Just say sorry to our friend already. You can at least agree that you hit them!" You weren't sure who said that, as all the voices blended together until that moment. Suddenly all eyes were on you. 
More specifically, Floch's eyes. He regarded you warily, annoyance clear in his eyes and voice. "Your dumbass friend looks fine to me,” he sneered. “And besides, we tried to warn them, and they didn't move. It's their own fault. Don't go blaming me for your friend being an idiot." 
You weren't sure what came over you; maybe it was anger from the childish name calling, or maybe it was the stress of the week getting to you, but within an instant, you had crossed the few feet to get to him, and threw a punch. 
You watched as he stumbled back, nearly running into one of his nameless friends, as he clutched at his face. He was clearly seeing red.
"How dare you!" he shouted out. He started to make his way over to you, obscenities of all sorts falling from his mouth.
None of which you really heard, because at that exact moment, Sasha and Connie both shouted the same thing, 'Run,' and took off. 
And, before you knew it, Jean grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he chased after the two, until you four were sure that Floch and his extras weren't going to follow you. 
When you finally stopped, everyone was bent over, stuck in between laughing and gasping for air. 
"Holy shit! That was insane!" Sasha wheezed out, and straightened out, turning to the group with a large smile on her face.
Connie spoke next, hands still on his knees. "I can't believe we ran away." 
All at once, realization hit you: you had just clocked a guy, and then ran away, without even thinking twice. Never in your life had you done something like that. You weren't super confrontational, and you certainly would rather avoid physical altercations. But, at that moment, you had just done it. And, the crazy thing about it was how amusing you found it. Because even though you were struggling to breathe, you were laughing. The kind of laugh where you couldn't stop, and your eyes would start to tear up. 
From where he was standing at your side, Jean watched for a moment, a certain fluttering in his chest (though he could pass it off as his own endeavors with taking in air). You, for the first time that he had seen, were so laid back about the fact that you had hit someone. And the way that you were now chuckling to yourself, clearly in a sort of disbelief mixed with content. 
Jean drew your attention, "Is it bad that I kind of liked seeing you hit him?" Then he paused, as if he had rethought his choice of words. "I mean, in the sense that Floch is a stuck up, entitled bastard, and that he had it coming." 
You gave a little huff, and shrugged. "Well, I'm sure anyone would pay to see that…I honestly didn't know that I was going to hit him…until right after." 
"Well, that was amazing! That guy's been a tyrant since the beginning of the year! He even tries to get in with Eren's group, as if he was even worth being someone to talk to." Connie clapped a hand on your back, his adrenaline still running through him. 
"And I thought that Jean was the one to start fights," Sasha teased.
"Sasha! I don't start fights!" 
Around you, the three continued to talk while you watched, enjoying the sight.  
It was rather nice, for once. You weren't holed up in your dorm room while everyone else had fun, even if the fun was getting into a fight of sorts—which, as you thought back on it, the whole thing was kind of funny. It would have easily been solved if those assholes had just apologized, but you were starting to think that this outcome was better. 
“Hey, should we go back for our things?” Jean asked, pulling your attention to him.
“Yeah, probably, and if those assholes are still there, I think we know someone who can take them on for us.” Connie sent a lopsided grin your way, a certain mischievous look in his eyes.
You shrugged, acting as innocent as possible. “Oh yeah, you’d be the perfect guy for that, even with the serious height disadvantage.” 
Connie’s mouth dropped open, not quite expecting that kind of remark from you. As far as he knew, you were silent, hardworking, and the person who likes to keep to yourself. Even you were a little surprised, but, maybe after today’s events you could try out some new ways to enjoy your life a little more.
Once again, the four of you made your way back to the field, and as you did, you could see a familiar figure standing by your net, looking down at his phone. 
“Marco! You made it!” Connie shouted out, drawing your friend’s attention. “You missed all the action; it was insane!”
“Huh? Did I miss out on playing? And where were you guys?” 
As you approached, Sasha and Connie exploded into answers for his question. 
“You only missed a little of our game-”
“We had to run from Forrester and his braindead lackeys!”
“We’ve got our own Rocky! You should have seen the way they punched him! No hesitation at all!”
Slowly, Marco seemed to piece all of the information together, nodding as he thought it all over. His eyes looked at everyone one by one until he got to you. “You punched someone? The most I've ever seen from you was the time you swore at your computer when it crashed!”
A small and almost shy smile escaped you, “Well, to be fair he started it. I honestly didn’t even think about doing it; my hand moved on it’s own,”
He only shook his head, looking back around the group. “So, are we still playing?”
Jean shook his head. “Maybe we should head back to one of the dorms? Relax or play some games?”
“Oh! I’ve got some fun games!” Sasha chimed in, then paused. “But I’m kind of hungry, so maybe we could make some food, too!”
Once everyone agreed to the plan, the now five of you ended up in the dorm you shared with Marco and Sasha, where Connie, Sasha and Marco focused on setting up some games in the little living room area, and you and Jean were tasked with making some dinner. Of course, it wasn’t exactly easy, given the few options, but eventually, the two of you were able to settle on a college delicacy: instant ramen. 
You pulled out a pot to fill with water, while Jean opened a few packs of said ramen. All in all, it was easy to make, and didn’t take terribly long. Before you knew it, you were handing out bowls to the other three while Jean brought over yours and his to where you were now sitting on the floor, some game cards in front of you. 
“Okay, listen up, I’m not explaining this twice,” Connie announced. “The game is simple: read a card to yourself and then say someones name who you think matches the card. You flip a coin. If it’s heads, you tell everyone what was on the card and give that person the card. If it’s tails, you keep it to yourself, and the card is yours.” Connie gave everyone a pointed look, and when no questions or objections were raised, the game started.
The first to go is Marco; he took a moment to read his card before immediately calling out Connie’s name. Then when the coin was flipped, it landed on heads, earning a small sigh from Marco. 
“It asked who would be the one to need parental supervision no matter what age someone is,” Marco explained.
“What? Why not Sasha?! She gets into more trouble than I do!” 
“Hah! Say that to Professor Levi and all the times he has had to tell you to shut up,” Jean remarked “And not to mention you black out at every party you go to. Do you know how many times I have to carry you home while you sing at the top of your lungs?”
Connie grumbled a bit, but didn’t try to deny the claims. Instead, he pulled out a card to read. His turn ended with a flip of tails, making it now your turn. 
From the main deck, you pulled your card and read it over silently: ‘Out of everyone in the group, who would you rather make out with?’
You can feel your face heat up, already knowing that you only really have two options, Jean or Marco. And Marco is only really a choice because of how well you know him, but even then, you wouldn’t really want to do that with him. So after a few moments of silence, you call Jean’s name, looking anywhere but at his face. 
“That took you some time; must be a good card.” Sasha grinned, reaching for the coin and giving it an impressive flip. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as it landed, and all at once, five heads stuck together to see the outcome.
Heads. The worst possible way for things to go. You could feel all eyes on you now, and you begrudgingly read out the card, once again avoiding looking at Jean entirely. 
A chorus of ooo’s and ahh’s filled your ears, and everyone had something to say about your answer. 
The only one you even managed to hear was the man himself: “I hope you plan to take me out first, I’m not won over so easily." Of course, he had a cocky smirk on his face, pointed directly at you. 
“Whatever, just…whoever is next, take your turn.” You shook your head, busying yourself with eating some of your food that was now starting to get a little cold. 
Time seemed to escape you all and the night drew to a close with Connie and Jean taking their leave. Marco took the time to wash the dishes, roping Sasha into helping, and you retired to your room. You took the time to change into some comfier clothes and settle into your bed, though not quite wanting to sleep just yet. 
Your mind was still stuck on the first game you played and the card you had picked Jean for. While you wouldn’t argue against the idea of finding Jean attractive, or even the idea of kissing him, you just weren’t sure why you were so trapped in thinking about it. You didn’t even know him all that well, and for the most part, you had thought that he was pretty unbearable. 
And yet, the more your thoughts seemed to revolve around him, the more you could feel an uneasy knot forming in your stomach. There was no way that you were going to let yourself get wrapped up in developing feelings for him, or anyone. You were supposed to be focusing on school so that you could get the hell out of this town and make something of yourself.
Not to mention the fact that all of your previous attempts at relationships crashed and burned. The last time that you had gotten close with someone in that way, you ended up with a mixture of being heartbroken and incredibly angry. That was about the time you started keeping to yourself, as if getting to know someone in a more than platonic way would cause your world to shatter again. You couldn’t-no /wouldn’t/ deal with something like that again. 
You let out a groan, planting face first into your pillow and trying to shoo away all thoughts related to romance and feelings, and of Jean Kirstein. 
“Suffocating yourself?” 
You jumped lightly, head snapping up to see Marco in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His expression was a little hard to read, though he could be like that at times. 
“Uh…no, not quite what I’m going for, but if it gets the job done, then sure,” you joked.
He moved across the room to his own bed where he took a seat, facing you. “Then what’s with the face-in-pillow tactic?”
You hesitated, knowing full and well how close Marco was with Jean, closer than he was with you. “Oh, uh, just, school things, homework, assignments, that sort of thing…”
His eyes narrowed slightly, brows furrowing. “Yeah, for once I don’t buy that, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you to spill the details."
Again, you paused, turning away from Marco and looking towards the door. In truth, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, since he wouldn’t ever tell a secret that wasn’t his. He was definitely the guy who would just want to talk things out, not wanting things to end badly. 
“Okay…Well…that card I got earlier,” you began. “I’m just worried, and I know that it’s just a stupid game, but I cant help but think about it.”
“Worried that Jean took it the wrong way, or worried that you’d actually want to kiss him?”
Marco was somehow always hitting the nail on the head, a talent of his. 
“Would saying both make sense?”
He thought for a moment, the room filling with an unnamable silence, until he spoke again. “Well, I’m sure Jean is going to take it in the way he always does: an ego boost for his way too big head.” Another pause. “As for the idea of maybe wanting to kiss him, I wouldn’t say that's an all too terrible idea, besides the fact that it’s Jean. But, if you really aren't sure about how you feel towards him, maybe you could…test it out?"
“Test it out?” you repeated, confused.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Like ask him to hang out or something. You don’t have to necessarily make it like a date, but you could use the time to get to know him more, and figure out if it’s just because everyone made a big deal out of it, or if you might actually be interested in him, or getting to know him.”
You thought for a moment. The idea was pretty simple, and a good one at that, though just thinking about it made your heart rate speed up. It wasn’t like you had never been one on one with Jean, but now, with all of your thoughts being scrambled like eggs, it was slightly overwhelming. But when it came down to it, you wanted to sort it all out. If you could set your mind straight, and get rid of these terrible thoughts about Jean, you could get back on track for school.
“You’re right, I’ll definitely try that.” You let out a small breath of air and turned back to Marco. “Thanks, I’m glad you’re here.”
“What would you do without me? And don’t worry— I won’t say anything to anyone. my lips are sealed” He smiled, hand coming up to his mouth to mime a zipper motion.
“Okay, good. Unless you want to end up like the douche from earlier, I wouldn’t recommend telling a soul.” 
He gave a laugh before gathering some of his things to go and take a shower, leaving you alone once more. You eventually drifted off to sleep, and surprisingly, you didn’t wake up once.
The next day, you only had one class, and once that was over, you had gone to the library to study, needing to get work done for a few of your other classes. It was a nice change in pace from the day you had yesterday. It wasn’t super crowded, either, which meant you could focus on your work in peace. 
Though, it didn’t last long, as two new faces joined your table. You looked up, almost expecting to see Jean and Connie, or Marco and Sasha, but to your surprise, it was Eren and Armin. 
“I hope you don’t mind us joining you!” Armin smiles, though something in his eyes tells you that he didn’t pick your table without a reason. 
“Uh, no that’s okay.” 
He and Eren settled into two of the chairs, the latter of the two only pulling out his phone. Armin did the exact opposite. He took out two textbooks, a large notebook, and a handful of pens, pencils and markers. 
For the first five minutes or so, the three of you sat in silence. You worked on homework for a communications class, while armin was seemingly working on a paper for a psyche class. But when Eren suddenly scoffed at his phone, you stopped what you were doing to look up at him, questioning his action. 
He in turn looked at you, maybe even through you. “So, turns out, someone gave Forrester a nasty bruise yesterday. He wont say who, so i’m thinking he got his ass kicked and just doesn’t want to admit it.” 
You feigned ignorance, giving Eren a blank stare, “I’m not really sure who that is, but sounds like a tough time for him.”
Eren regarded you for a moment, but it wasn’t his stare that bothered you. You now had Armin’s attention, as if he wanted to ask a question. Or, make a comment on what you said. But instead he said, “Well, I’m not the one to really get into these things, but Floch does like to cause problems for himself, so maybe he deserved it?” 
You nodded along, not wanting to give Eren any more information. With him, rumors tended to get out of hand quickly, and you really did not want to be the talk of the school over an altercation with Floch. To everyone in the school, you were pretty much some nobody, and frankly, you weren’t upset at the idea. If it meant less trouble for you, it was going to be something you’d stay okay with.
“Well he’s been bitching about it all day. It’s starting to get on my nerves.” Eren flipped his phone over, leaning back in his chair as he did. 
“Does he expect you to do something about it?” You asked, still trying to keep a low profile, while also trying to pry more information out of him.
“I’m sure thats what he wants, but I’m not going to help him with that, Floch can fight his own battles.”
A thick silence descended over your table. You took it as a sign that you could continue working on your homework. The one for your comms class wasn’t due until tomorrow, but you really wanted to finish it. 
This had always really been how you did things. You tried to finish things early, study as soon as possible, take as much time to get your work done as possible. And you weren’t the only one. Armin had also gone back to his work, and though you weren’t sure when it was due for him, but it wouldn’t be surprising if it was due at the end of the week or so.
You weren’t all that close with Armin, but the two of you had taken the time to study with eachother for the one class that you did share, and you had even reached out once to ask if he would tutor you for a few sessions, needing help with your math at the time. It was a nice thought to know that you weren’t the only student to stray from the eyes of their peers.
Though he had a harder time with it, being best friends with Eren and all. Not to mention he was also friends with Mikasa Ackerman, who was arguably the girl who drew most people’s attention. 
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you felt your phone buzz. You picked it up from the table, squinting your eyes at the bright screen. It was Jean.
“Hey, why are you with Armin, and that idiot.”
At this, you paused, looking around the library, not seeing Jean. 
“Where are you?” you replied.
After a minute or two, your phone buzzed again.
“Come and find me.” 
And that was it. He didn’t send any other messages, even after you sent him two more, questioning him again. You frowned, then looked to your things. You had been working for awhile, so getting up and moving might not be the worst thing. You proceeded to pack everything that you had pulled out earlier, and stood from your chair, looking to the other two.
“I think I’m going to head out. Let’s meet up again later in the week to work on Professor Hange’s assignment.”
Armin glanced up, and smiled, “Okay! How about Thursday? I can show you what all I’ve finished!”
“Sounds good.” You gave a short wave, and turned away from the table, scanning the surrounding areas before setting off in a random direction. 
There were a few more tables behind some of the bookshelves, but none of the students sitting at them were Jean. You checked out the library’s computer section next, and kept looking until you ended up near Armin and Eren again. Another frown crossed your face, until you heard a muffled laugh. 
With the new hint, you looked upwards to the second floor. And there he was, leaning against the railing, smirking down at you. You felt your face heat up in what you were going to call embarrassment, and definitely not any other word that had to do with your complicated thoughts on him, and how from where you stood, he looked almost handsome. 
You sent a halfhearted glare his way and headed up the stairs, making your way over to him, about to comment on his antics, but you weren’t able to get a word out before he could make fun of you. 
“You looked really dumb running around trying to find me.”
You gave an astonished laugh, “Yeah, well you sounded like a complete stalker just now.”
“And you still came to find me. I’m starting to think you like me more than you let on.” 
The unsettling feeling returned to your stomach at his words, though you weren’t surprised that he was poking fun at you after yesterdays game. “In your dreams.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ease the increasing amount of uneasiness that was slowly taking ahold of you. 
“Hm, I guess that’s true. Does that mean you want me to dream about it?” He looked at you contently, despite all of what he said being the brashest thing you had heard from him yet.
You didn’t say anything to that, instead you changed the subject quickly. “To answer your question about who I was with, I actually didn’t plan on sitting with them. Armin and Eren joined me.”
He gave a slow nod, and peered back at the table down below, where the two were still sitting, “Do you think I could spit on Eren from here?”
“No, and I dont think you should even try.” 
“Buzzkill.”
You scoffed, “I am not a buzzkill. You are just in the middle of some pointless battle of being better than each other.”
Jean looked back to you, staring at you for a moment. Then back down at Eren. “I just don’t get what everyone sees in that guy. He’s clearly an egotistical bastard with no regards to anyone else.”
“Do you think that you guys have anything in common in the fact that you both have ridiculously large egos?”
“Don’t lump me in with him.” This he said more seriously, “Anyways, enough about him, do you want to go do something?”
“Like what?”
He shrugged, and started for the stairs. You followed him wordlessly, and the two of you left the library, now back outside where a light breeze met you. The silence continued to hang over you two as you walked aimlessly in a random direction. You couldn’t tell if he was still thinking about your comment on him and Eren, or something else completely. You decided against asking him about it, and instead found a different topic. 
“Hey so, I found this art exhibit at the museum, it’s about the book Hange assigned us. I was thinking that we could go and check it out and see if we can find anything useful?”
He thought for a moment, eyes wandering the path ahead. “Okay, it doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend an afternoon.”
“Would eleven in the morning on Friday or Saturday be okay?”
“Friday works better for me, I think I’ve got plans with Connie on Satuday.” 
“Okay, Friday it is.” You paused, a smile slowly making it’s way onto your face, “Just make sure to be on time. I wont wait for you this time.”
“Hey! I already apologized for that.” He stopped in place, giving you a pointed look.
You stopped a few feet in front of him, shrugging as you continued to speak, “I need to cover all the bases. I am not going to wait around for you, just for you to tell me that you were hungover.”
“I am not going to be hungover again. I’m not going to make you wait, I swear.”
“You better not, I won’t be as forgiving this time.” You go to move past him, elbowing him as you do. 
He turns on his heel to catch up with you, giving you a slight push at the same time, “You were hardly forgiving last time. You were mad the entire time we were working on the assignment,” Jean pauses, taking a moment to look at the path that you had set off on, “Wait, where are we even going?”
You glanced over to him, then back infront of you. “Well, I’ve done nothing but school work today, and you didn’t mention anything specific other than ‘go do something’ and last time you picked where we went, so now its my turn.”
“Are you going to tell me where we are heading at least?”
“No.” You smiled a little at the statement, remembering how you had done the same thing to him when he had asked about you caring so much about seeing the stars. Looking back over to Jean, who was staring straight ahead, you took a moment to really look at him.
He was pretty tall, and when he wasn’t smiling like some sort of evil bastard, he had a pretty nasty resting bitch face, a combination that probably scared anyone who didn’t know him. Though, you could say that despite all that, he had a few attractive features to him. When he was smiling, actually smiling that is, his eyes lit up. You hadn’t noticed it much before, but now when you thought back on the past few days of being around him, you could see the way his eyes would hold a certain softness.  And when he was thinking, he tended to frown, scrunching up his nose until he came to whatever conclusion he needed. And when the two of you were in the field the other evening, he had an almost blissful aura to him, as if he had no cares in the world, you wouldn't ever guess that he was someone who caused so much trouble. Honestly it was probably a good thing that he had a difficult personality. If his ego was bad now, you don't want to know what he'd be like if he knew all of this about himself.
You looked away before he could catch you staring, and before you gave yourself any more time to think about him, not wanting to let yourself actually fall for the guy. 
Instead you focused on finding your way to today's randomized destination. If you were being honest, you hadn't actually thought of somewhere to go, and frankly, with how little you actually went out, you didn't know too many spots around campus. Regardless, you continued to lead the way, until an idea formed in your head. 
Earlier in the year, you had gotten a tad bit lost while trying to find a class, and ended up on the edge of your campus, where you stumbled on an old tree. Aside from the size of the thing, it seemed completely normal. But when you had looked further at it, there was something of a hidey hole in its backside. Since discovering it, you had made countless trips to the tree, using it as a place to get away from the school. You definitely weren't the first person to discover it, but it seemed like no one else ever really visited the old thing. 
As you and Jean came upon the tree, he gave a low whistle, craning his head back to take in it's height, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you just took me to a make out spot," 
You threw a bewildered look at him, before shaking your head slowly, "Well, since you do know better, you should know that it's more likely that I've brought you to the best place on campus to hide a body."
He in turn shook his own head, "And here I thought we we're getting closer," 
"Closer to hiding your body?"
"Not quite what I was thinking…" he trailed off, taking a moment to circle around the tree, his hand trailing along the bark as he went, "so, what made you pick here? Other than premeditated murder."
As he came back around, you watched as he took the time to drop his bag at the ground by his feet, kneeling down next to it for a moment, searching its contents. 
"Hm, I'm not entirely sure. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who ever comes here anymore." You pause, eyeballing what Jean was now holding in his hands, "It's kind of like a secret hideout minus the secret part, since anyone can stumble on this old tree." 
"And yet you brought me here…I'm starting to worry about my wellbeing," he chuckles, then takes a seat a few feet away from the tree. 
In his hands, he held a sketchbook. It looked a good few years old, as loose pages stuck out here and there, and the sheets were starting to yellow along the edges. You watched on quietly, as he flipped open to one of the last few pages, pausing as he glanced back at the tree. 
After a few moments you moved to stand just behind him, looking down at the page, which now held some sketch lines, resembling the tree just ahead of you.
You kept quiet for a bit, watching him quietly. He was lighthanded, it was as if any stray line within the whole piece would fly off the page and into the world around you. 
"You know you can sit and watch me draw too, right?"
"Yeah, and sit next to you? No thanks." You moved away from him, a slight flustered tone in your voice as you realized just how long you had been observing him. 
Instead, you took a seat at the base of the tree, opening your own bag, pulling out some more of your homework. Between the two of you, the only noises were the sounds of pencil on paper, and the occasional shifting of branches in the wind. 
You weren't really sure just how long things stayed that way. The only thing that brought your mind back to reality was the feeling of being stared at. 
"Need something?" You asked, arching a quizzical eyebrow in Jean's direction.
He shook his head, closing his sketchbook quietly, "Not at all. I was just wondering how much homework you were going to do before you got bored of being such a studious person." 
You scoffed at him. He was teasing you for this again? 
"Well, unlike some people, I need to pass all my classes so I can get the hell out of here." 
"You hate it here that much?" 
You paused, a lump forming in your throat. How were you even supposed to answer that question? All in all, this small town was horrible, and had been that way your entire life. Growing up you didn't have very many friends, and your family was fairly distant to you. You had shouldered all of your problems and responsibilities by yourself. Even now, in your college years it was hard to shake the feeling that you were still alone. 
You drew in a breath. "Sometimes, I sit by myself at my desk, and just stare at one of my notebooks until all the lines blur together. And then I realize that I'm crying. But what's funny about that is, I never know why I'm crying. " you start, bringing your eyes to his, "I never have the words to describe what i'm feeling in those moments. It's the same with how I feel about this place. I really don't know if I hate it, or if I'm just…projecting something else onto it." 
Jean stills with the information, until he takes a long breath in, "Art isn't much of a passion for me, as much as it is a hobby. I can't tell you how many half finished sketches I have. Sometimes I feel like I just don't have it in me to finish them, as if I'm scared of not knowing what I'm going to do next." 
He isn't talking about art. You know this from the way that Jean looks at you, not with pity, but with a hint of understanding. 
It was silent once again. Your brain turned over and over as you repeated his words in your head. Slowly, a wistful smile spread across your face. 
"You know Jean, you're not so bad after all." 
He stands up, shaking his head as he does, and makes his way over to you, holding out a hand for you to take, "I have my moments, I can't always be the charming asshole everyone says I am."
You hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to his hand. Slender fingers and a wide palm, his hand looked soft, and the thought of holding it, even just for a moment, would be comforting. You took his hand, averting your gaze as he helped you to your feet. 
"I'm sure everyone leaves out the 'charming' part."
"That's where you're wrong, everyone thinks I'm charming."
"Everyone but me that is," you chirp back, letting your hands fall to your sides.
"You dont think I'm charming?" 
The churning sensation is back. You /wanted/ to say no, to tell him that he was annoying, loud-mouthed, and a pain in the ass, but somewhere in the time you'd known him, he had become annoyingly endearing, loudly funny, and a pain in the ass to ignore the thumping in your chest. 
"I can't say charming is the word I'd use to describe you. Horribly pleasant maybe, but not charming."
At this he smirks, starting to walk backwards away from you, "Oh so you think I'm pleasant? Hopefully in the way that I'm nice to look at." 
"You missed the word horrible," 
He waved off your comment, instead placing one hand on his chest, right over his heart, while reaching out the other hand towards you, "and yet, if I asked you to join me to a delicious five star dinner at my dorm, you'd still say yes." 
You could feel your face flush, knowing that he didn't mean anything more than just to hang out for a little bit longer, and not in some sort of lame date way, "I'd only come because it would be free food, even if the food is terrible. Like you." 
"So, that's a yes you'll be joining me for dinner? I've got…box mashed potatoes, frozen broccoli, and hopefully leftover seasoned chicken." 
You turned back to where you had left your things, a slightly messy sight. "Alright alright, I'll come, pick up your things and we can go." 
You knelt down next to your bag, trying to ignore the nervous shaking of your hands as you collected your things. Your mind raced with warring thoughts. How did this happen? How was it that Jean Kirstein of all people, had weaseled his way into being someone that you didn't fully hate? But, there was no way you were going to let him get in the way of school, and your plans to finally be free from this horrible town. But then part of you wondered, was it all one sided? Jean seemed to be the type to have all sorts of girls and guys fawning over him, even if he had only ever been open about one specific girl that he was interested in, which of course had been Mikasa. But you couldn't even blame him, she was out of everyone's league. How she seemed to be completely and obviously in love with Eren Jeager of all people was a mystery to you. 
"Hey, are you listening?" His voice stopped your thoughts in their tracks, as you hadn't even noticed that he had been speaking to you. 
"Now why would I be doing that?" You shouldered your bag, standing back up and facing him.
"We've been over this, because I'm charming- sorry, pleasant." 
"Again, you left out the horrible part." 
"I've got a feeling that you don't mean that, otherwise you'd just call me horrible." He turns halfway away from you, looking back to the general area of the school. 
You paused, walking up next to him, trying to ignore the fact that he was right, "You just have selective hearing." 
Jean eyed you while starting to head back to the dorms, a different and softer smile making its way onto his face, "Not when it comes to you." 
You nearly tripped over a stray rock, his words repeating in cycles in your head. You could only give him a glance, busying yourself with avoiding any other stones on the sidewalk. 
What did he mean by that? What did you want those words to mean? Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Marco. The feeling of your heart painfully pounding against your ribs surfaces. Your hands tremble ever so slightly while they grasp at the straps of your bag. Marco was right, and he hadn’t even said anything about you actually having feelings for Jean. 
As the thought hit, you spared another quick look towards him. He was looking at you. Careful eyes studying your demeanor. The way you walked. The way your eyes struggled to meet his. The way your mouth formed a tight line as you realized all of this was happening.
“Hey, if you really don’t want to try my cooking, you don’t have to come.” He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair for a moment. 
You looked away. You could turn him down, you could go home. It would be the easy way out. You could ignore any of his future attempts at hanging out. You could finish school and leave this place. Leave him and everyone else again. 
The thought of it made you shudder. In doing so, you would be condemning yourself to your worst self. Being alone. 
You looked back to Jean, his face morphed into one of concern, clearly puzzled as to why you were taking so long to answer. 
You were tired of being alone. Tired of pushing away your own happiness in pursuit of a future that wasn’t even set in stone. 
You flashed a smile his way, and waved off his words, “No way, you said it was a five star dinner. I can’t pass on that.”
He stared at you for a moment. Then, his confusion melted away, replaced by that famous cocky smile, “Okay good, I wasn’t sure what to do if you bailed on me.”
“Maybe you could have cooked for Connie too, light some candles, play some mood music, you know, make it all romantic for the two of you.” You chuckled, about to make another remark when Jean gave you a playful shove. 
“Why would you say that! I can’t have a romantic dinner with Connie of all people!” 
“Sure you can! It’s easy! Candles, music, food! All you need!” 
Jean groaned and shook his head. “You’re horrible.”
“Pleasant, actually.” You grinned. 
He hummed in response, and you could’ve swore you heard him mumble ‘horribly pleasant my ass’
His dorm room was warm, and set up similarly to yours. The same bland, small kitchen and the same questionable excuse for a couch just a few feet away. Three sets of doors that led to his roommates, and two bathrooms. 
One of the doors were open, and you caught a glimpse of Connie attempting to take mirror selfies. He would take one, bring the phone close to his face, frown and then try again. It wasn’t until his third or forth picture that he noticed you staring through the mirror. 
“Well if it isn’t our very own Rocky!” He grinned, hastily shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweats. 
“Hey Connie” you waved, then smirked a little, “I'm sure the ladies will love all of those selfies.” 
His face flushed slightly, and he stepped out of his small room, “For your information, the ladies already love seeing my handsome face. I was just taking a few more for-”
Jean cut him off, a bark of a laugh filling the room, “Like you can get a girl to think your ugly mug is anything worth looking at.” 
Connie gaped, “Dude, that’s just cold. I thought you liked my face.” 
You eyeballed the two, before turning to Jean and mouthing the words, ‘romantic dinner’ 
Jean glared halfheartedly, before a smile broke through, “and here I thought I was treating you to a five star, romantic dinner.” 
Connie was now the one looking between the two of you, unsure if Jean was being serious or not. You, on the other hand, could feel your face heat up. He had to be joking. Jean was making a joke based off of your joke. That was the only thing that would make sense at the moment. 
“Only if it involves candles and music.” You attempt to force your voice into sounding level, as if you weren’t sickeningly thrilled by the idea of your dinner with Jean being a little more than friendly. 
His head swivels around the room, scanning the small area before emitting a sigh of halfhearted defeat, “Might need a raincheck on that, I don't have any candles.” Jean pauses, thinking for a moment, “Unless you had your heart set on the romantic dinner with candles and music, maybe I can make something work.” He smirked in your direction, true to his usual cheeky self. 
You faced away from him, moving to set your backpack down on the floor by the door, “No candles, no deal.” You pause, practically feeling Connie’s wide eyed stare pointed at your back. 
“That’s not a no to having a more than friendly dinner, now is it?” Jean fires back, smiling in a not so innocent way. Your stomach twisted in knots. He wasn’t wrong. You had intentionally avoided his question, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of yet another person falling for his aggravating charm. 
You shrug a response, giving back another flippant response, “Sure, if it helps you sleep at night to think of it that way.” 
After a moment of silence, Connie’s voice fills the room. “Yeah so, I don’t really know whats going on here, but i’m gonna head out. Sasha is waiting for me with Marco.” He slides on a pair of shoes, grabs a bag and promptly leaves, but not before saying a goodbye, “See ya later Rocky, and Jean, I hope you choke on your food.”
To which, all Jean says is, “Yeah, whatever man.”
You watch him leave quietly, then turn back to face Jean, studying him for a moment. He hasn’t noticed your stares yet,  not when he’s busying himself with pulling out what he needed for this dinner supposedly high rated by Michelin themselves. 
Throughout the past year or so, you had noticed that when Jean was concentrating, he tended to screw up his face a little, eyebrows scrunched in, mouth quirked off to the side, usually whatever was in his hands was being toyed with. But right now, he was different. A content soft smile, and the look in his eyes was gentle. Fond. Domestic. 
“Do you need help with anything?” You asked, feeling the need to do something other than just stand around. 
Jean looked back up at you, bag of frozen broccoli in his hands. “Do you want to make the instant potatoes or the broccoli?” 
You walked to him, and grabbed the bag from him, “Where do you keep your pots and pans?”
“Planning on making this a fancy dinner?” He paused, taking a moment to grab out a small pot for you, and then a lid. “Are you steaming them?”
You set the bag down, then eyed the pot and lid, “Would you happen to have one of those steaming baskets? Or do I need to get creative?”
Jean smiled sheepishly, “I’ve got Connie for a roommate. If I was Niccolo I would definitely have one of those, therefore, you’ll have to get creative. But you’re pretty smart, so I believe in you.”
You nodded slowly. That made sense. Jean and Connie were in the same boat as Sasha, Marco and yourself. If you had done more planning for dinner you probably could have worked something else with Niccolo to borrow his cooking supplies. Though you were sure that the guy would say no, as he was pretty particular about his things. Oh well. You’d have to figure something else. 
The rest of the preparations went fine, and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting at a dingy table that each dorm room had, making small talk over left over chicken and mid-tier potatoes and broccoli. 
“Okay, so I’ll  bite. What’s your deal?” Jean asked suddenly, then his eyes went a little wide as he realized the wording of his question, “I mean! Uh…Well-”
You cut him off, easily able to tell what he meant, “Do you mean why do I have no life and only study and do my work alone?”
He melted under your gaze, before nodding slowly, “I meant it a little nicer though.”
“Its okay, I got what you meant…I think.” You set your fork down, suddenly scrutinizing a small crack in your plate. 
Jean cleared his throat a bit before speaking again, “It’s just that…you spend so much time studying, and it definitely pays off. I’ve heard from Sasha that you have really good grades. But…”
“But?”
“They worry about you. Sasha and Marco that is…and well, I kind of do too. At least, more now that I know you a little better.”
You don’t respond. He’s going somewhere with this. You can tell by the cadence of his voice, how he seems to be picking his words carefully.
“I think that even just in the past few days, you’ve opened  up a lot…I finally got to see you smile.” He paused, “I remember one time last year, in one of our shared classes, I went to see the professor, but you were already there, pleading with him for some extra credit. And when you came out, you look like you had been crying. The next day, I went out of my way to tell you a joke, hoping that maybe you’d smile.”
“I remember that. I told you that I was busy with a make up assignment and ignored you.” You hummed a little, thinking back to Jean back then. His hair was shorter, and he was even more obnoxious that he had been this year. It was one of the few times you had actually spoke to him at the time.
“So…I guess I was just wondering where all this pressure on you comes from?” He fidgets with something in his hands. Like when he’s focusing on his work. You’ve seen it countless times in the past, you just never thought about it until now.
With a sigh, you resign yourself to telling him a little bit about yourself, “I’ve lived here my whole life. And my whole life, I’ve basically been alone. Friends were hard to come by, especially after I decided that all I wanted to do was leave. So, with no one to hold me back, as long as I finish college strong, I can leave and go anywhere I want. I have to do this. Staying here is out of the question…” You trailed off, thinking about how you had never truly said these words out loud. 
“But?” He spoke softly, as if he could tell that you had been battling with yourself on what you truly wanted. He stared at you, not through you as most other people did. Your heart sped up. What were you supposed to say now? You had only started to question your aspirations because of him. And you absolutely would not be sharing that thought now. 
“But nothing. I meant what I said. I’m getting out of this hell and I’m not looking back. Ever.”  you spat the words out, a sudden low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. What were you doing? A small voice in the back of your head answered that question for you. The same one that you let control most of your college days. You were wasting time, you had assignments to do and a degree to work towards. 
You moved to stand suddenly. “I have to go…I forgot that I’m supposed to meet with Armin tomorrow. I should really make sure that I’m ready to show him my part..and yours too.” You grabbed your backpack, and escaping out into the hall. 
You stood there quietly, chest moving up and down as you took in harsh breaths,  not entirely sure why you did all of that. With a shake of your head you made the journey back to your own dorm, not bothering to take off your shoes at the door like you normally did, instead you merely trudged into your room, tossing your bag onto the ground by your desk, and finding a seat on the edge of your bed. 
“Are you okay?” Your freckled friend spoke up, nearly giving you a heart attack in the process. You hadn’t even noticed that he was home.
You didn’t answer. Instead, tears began to fill your eyes. He was by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around you carefully. Muffled sobs wracked your body. With each one Marco only hugged you a little tighter. He let you cry until you were done. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” The words fell from your lips, and you couldn’t stop what came after them, “This whole time i’ve had one goal; to graduate with soaring grades, and to leave. Make as few friends as possible so that way I wouldn’t get distracted…and so that leaving would be easier.” 
“What changed then?” Marco asked, his voice soft and careful. You got the feeling that he already knew the answer.
“Jean. Jean crashed into my life and ruined my plans. I haven’t even really known him that long and suddenly I’m throwing away school just to hang out with him. I haven’t been studying the same way I used to, instead I’m playing volleyball with him, and he’s holding my hand as we run away. I’m sitting with him by that old tree and thinking about him instead of the words on my papers. I’m cooking with him and thinking about how muchI want to do it all again.” Your words are quiet, but Marco hears them all the same.
“You do know that those don’t have to be bad things, right?” He lets you go, taking a moment to scoot away ever so slightly, making you look up at his face, where a small smile rests, “It’s been nice to see you let loose. And I know that you’ve been enjoying yourself.”
You attempt to frown, “Thats not true.” 
A beat passes and you speak again, “Okay. Maybe a little…but I-”
“No. No buts. You are the hardest working person I know. You are smart and you always apply yourself to your work. You are doing amazing. It’s time that you see that for yourself. You will finish school, and you will be able to go out into the world and do whatever you want to do, but that doesn’t mean you have to wait to have any of that fun. You deserve to enjoy your life, the one right now in the present that you are living, okay?”
His words played on repeat in your mind a few times, you tried to interalize them, make them into your own instead of letting that voice shoo them away. 
“Okay.” You nodded, then brought a hand up to your face, covering your mouth for a moment, “I left Jean.”
“What?”
“We were eating dinner and talking and then I got upset and I just…I just left. “
Marco pursed his lips, nodding slightly as he tried to imagine the scene. Jean sitting alone at his table, probably confused and wondering what he did wrong. “Well…theres only so much you can do about that, which I suggest texting him. Let him know that you’re alright, and just so that the poor guy doesn’t overthink, that he didn’t cause you to run off.”
You nodded, “Right. Okay. I can do that.”
It grew quiet between you and Marco, though it didn’t last very long. There was a light tone in his voice, one he used when he wanted to tease someone without making them aware of it, though you had learned to recognize it fairly well. 
“So, I’m assuming that you like Jean…at least a little bit.”
“Okay. Get off my bed. This moment is over.” You push him gently, facing away from Marco. 
“Are you going to tell him?”
“Oh would you look at the time? I should really head to bed, okay goodnight Marco, get off my bed.”
He laughed, and did as you said, letting you have the room so you could change, “goodnight lovebird.”
Ignoring him as best as you could, you changed quickly, and crawled right back into your bed, under the safety of your comforter.  Once there, you pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you brought up the chat with Jean.
You stared at it for a moment. The last messages were from earlier this day. He hadn’t said anything since then. 
Slowly you typed out an apology. “Hey Jean, I’m really sorry for just bailing earlier. Super not cool of me.”
You groaned at the words, quickly backspacing and starting again. “Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to just leave you there. I promise things are fine. It wasn’t you, or the food for that matter.” 
You hit send, not giving yourself time to overthink the text any longer. 
Fairly quick after your message had been sent, Jean had already replied. “Its okay! You had me worried for a minute there. Thought maybe the food tasted so bad that you just had to leave to get an actual five star dinner.”
He was being courteous. Trying to keep the conversation light as to not scare you off again. 
Your fingers flew across the keyboard once more, “Let me make it up to you. Friday, 11am, at the museum.”
“You really don’t have to make anything up to me, I get it.”
“Jean. Just let me feel bad and try to make it up. Or else I will think about this all night.”
His next message wasn’t exactly what you thought he’d say…or actually, it was exactly what he would say, “Oh, so if I don’t let you have your way, you will be up all night…thinking about me?”
“No.” You hit send. Then sent another message, “Ykw nevermind. I’m not sorry. Be on time friday or else.”
He was quick to shoot back another response, “Okay fine. Make it up to me.”
Then another message, “How do you plan on doing that anyways?”
“You’ll see. Be patient.”
It wasn’t long after that did you eventually fall asleep. The next day was pretty uneventful. Your meeting with Armin was fine, as the guy already had about half of the presentation outline done, and with all of the information and other necessary work that you had gathered, Armin would most likely have the whole thing done by the time he went to bed that night. 
The rest of the day passed quickly, almost too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, your alarm was going off, signalling that it was ten twenty-five in the morning. 
You had spent some time the day before thinking of how to make up for ditching Jean the other night, and finally settled on an idea. Said idea was currently sitting on your desk, inside a plastic bag. 
You gave it a quick look before climbing out of your bed, moving to your dresser to get ready for the day. 
You had just thrown on your shoes, sparing a glance at your phone to the time. It was eleven. You were going to be late. Of course after all that talk to Jean about being on time, you were going to be running behind this time. You could only imagine what he would have to say about it.
You hurriedly grabbed the bag from your desk, and shoved your phone into you pocket after sending yet another apology to Jean. 
The trip to the museum took about twenty minutes with public transport. It was eleven twenty-three and you had finally made it to the museum doors. 
Jean was standing just to the right of them, staring down at his phone, his back to you. You watched as he brought his phone to his ear, and smiled slightly as your phone buzzed in your pocket. 
You let it ring. Walking up and tapping his shoulder a few times. “Sorry I’m late.”
He spun around, eyes landing on your form. His mouth hung up for a moment before he hung up the phone call, “Is this to get back at me for the other day?”
“No…I just slept past my first alarm.”
“Oh so when you’re late its okay but when I’m late its the worst thing ever.”
You shrugged slightly, “I at least texted you in advance.” You paused, then remembered the bag you were holding, “Oh…um. I got you this. To make up for bailing.”
He eyed the bag suspiciously, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”
“I worried about it. Now just say thanks and take the bag from me.” You rushed the words out, holding it out to him, “No refunds so you have to keep it.”
His fingers deftly took the plastic handles from you, and reached inside the bag. You watched quietly as he lifted the gift out, eyes softening as he realized what it was. 
“You bought me a new sketchbook?” He hummed a little, looking at the cover for a few moments, “This is a really nice brand too. I’ve always wanted to try it out.”
“Your other one looked a little full the other day…so I figured I could afford a nice one to say that I’m sorry. “
Jean let the sketchbook slide back into the bag, “Well…thank you. I really appreciate this.” He toed something on the ground, eyes unable to find yours. 
You instead took this moment to find the exhibit tickets on your phone, nudging him slightly, “Let’s get going, there’s a couple of pieces I think we should look at specifically.”
Once inside, you took a few moments to study the map of the place, trying to figure out which hall you needed to go to, before Jean took your hand in his, face a little flushed as he did so. 
“I come here pretty often, most of the new exhibits are near the back on the first floor.” He said, pulling you along with him. 
It wasn’t too crowded, and as most museums were, it was quiet. A nice solitude for those who liked to hide away from the world, and find new ones in the art and historical pieces sheltered there.
When the both of you made it to the exhibit, you found that you were the only ones there. Meaning that you could stare at the art as long as you needed. Which you did. Slowly you let Jean’s hand slip from yours.
You hadn’t thought about seeing the art in real life, and how much it would effect you. Entrap you in every single paint stroke, every single carving of marble. It was beautiful. Clearly the story that was assigned to you had meant a lot the various artists. 
You found Jean staring at a drawing. It was mostly in charcoal, though some color had been added here and there, giving the piece whimsical dimension. It looked to be a tree. A large, barren tree in a valley of never ending sand. From the branches, blue and green spilled out across the paper, spanning what would be the sky. 
“You like this one?” You asked with a hush, not wanting to startle him. 
He nodded, “It’s simple, but I just know that the artist put a lot of work into it. Every line is purposeful. And we will never truly know what it means.” He responded, eyes traveling down to the plaque, where it read the piece’s title, “Paths.” With an unnamed author. 
You let him look at the drawing for as long as he needed. You wandered to a sculpture on display a few steps to the right. It seemed to be one of the titans depicted in the story. Creme colored marble in the form of a woman, skeletal mouth open in what the book claimed to be a war cry. There were ribs formed around her abdomen. Her hand outstretched towards the open air. From this perspective, despite the lack of facial features, the statue almost looked sad. A women with an extraordinary ability, forced to use it for harm, all because she was in love with the wrong person. At least, that’s what you wanted to think.  You were sure that others in your class thought the opposite. Which of course was exactly what your analysis was going to focus on. 
You studied it for a few more moments, before looking away, finding Jean now standing across the room, in front of another painting. You moved to stand next to him, looking at what held his attention.
It was of a starry night sky, bathed in dark blues and purples. Underneath, was a lone pig in a field, head faced towards the grass. 
“This is what started the book, right?” You asked, watching as he nodded once.
“But that’s not what i’m thinking about.”
“Then what’s going on in your mind?”
Jean looked back to you, smiling sideways, “Why did you wait the other night, at the field? I figured that you were waiting for a star, but why?”
You brought your eyes back to the painting, looking from the dark green grass, to the pig that was grazing on it peacefully, then to a star painted to be the brightest one there. 
“When I was younger, I used to stand outside, or at my window, and just wait. As soon as I saw the first star of the night, I made a wish on it.” You paused, thinking back on your childhood, “I used to wish for a friend, or someone more than that. I was pretty lonely as a kid. Eventually I started wishing for a future other than that…and then, I stopped wishing. I still would wait for the star, but I made sure that I wasn’t relying on a ball of gas in the sky to make my wishes come true.”
“I’d say that they came true then.” Jean turned his body to face yours, looking down towards you, some thought dancing in his eyes.
You mimicked his motion, allowing yourself to face him fully, “And what makes you say that?”
“You’ve made two whole friends.” 
“I’ve made three.” You corrected him softly, thinking back to your first conversation about it with him, “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot.” You state matter of factly.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “And the third? Don’t tell me it’s Floch…or even worse, Eren.”
“Mmm close. It’s you.” 
He places a hand to his heart, dramatic words escaping him, “How long have I waited for you to realize that you and I are friends.”
“You’re still horribly pleasant.” You remark, shaking your head, “Maybe I should take it back about being friends.”
“Too late, you already said it. No refunds.” He drew closer to you, enough to where you could feel his warmth. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Isn’t that technically already a question?” You pause, then nod to him, “But, yeah, go for it.”
“When you graduate, and leave this town. Will you forget about your friends?”
You hesitate. You knew that he wasn’t really asking about Marco or Sasha. You can feel your stomach flip over a few times, that annoying feeling of nervousness that came whenever you thought about Jean.
“No. I wont. How could I?” Your words seem to have some sort of effect on Jean, as he dodesn’t speak. You continue, trying to pick your words carefully, “When it comes to you, specifically you…I would have one hell of a time forgetting you, Jean.”
“I am pretty cool…” He mumbles, then swallows his pride, “But, what if I don’t want you to remember me?” 
You tilt your head to the side, giving him a confused look, but still allowing him to continue.
“I just mean…what if I want to be remembered as not just a friend. As more than that?” 
He locks eyes with you, his face serious as he waits for you to say something, to say anything really. 
You swear that your heart stops beating altogether. It wasn’t one sided. You thought back to your conversation with Marco from two nights before. You deserved this. Deserved to enjoy yourself. To let yourself live a little. 
“I think i’d like that.” You smile warmly, “Because I like you Jean. I tried really hard not to, but I do. And maybe, just maybe I don’t want to look back on college and only remember you as a friend.” You pause, taking in a small breath and willed yourself to finish your thought, “Maybe, after I graduate, we both can look back on the time. Together.”
“So, you don’t want to skip town and never look back?” he asks
“Skip town? Still do, but I can’t afford to ignore my time here.” 
“What if I came with you when you leave.” it’s less of a question, and more of an idea.
“Let’s just get to graduation first, Jean.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding as he does, “Got ahead of myself there. But I have one more question.”
You study him for a moment, just as you had been studying the rest of the art in the museum. “You know, you were only supposed to ask one question anyways.”
“Last one, I promise.” 
“Okay, okay, what is it?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You’re suddenly all too aware of the small gap in your bodies, and his baited breath, and the sensation in your stomach that feels less like churning water and more like butterflies floating around blooming flowers. You hardly hear yourself tell him yes. 
The stiffness leaves Jean’s body, and he brings his hand free from the plastic bag up to your face, cupping your cheek lightly. His hand is warm, but not as warm as your flushed face is. His thumb moves back and forth slightly as he pulls you to him. His lips are soft, and you can feel his lashes flutter against your cheek. You easily find it in you to move in sync with him, allowing yourself to lean into the kiss, a small smile finding its way onto your face. 
He lets you pull away first. And for a moment all the two of you can do is stand there. You’re sure that you could stand there all day with him. 
You let him speak first. 
“So, am I still horrible?”
“Horribly, yet pleasantly charming. Yes.”
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tsukkismoonlight · 4 months
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guess what i’ve been replaying
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tsukkismoonlight · 4 months
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EDDIE’S HOME VIDEOS 💫 insp. by @vigilanteshit
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tsukkismoonlight · 4 months
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fairytales don’t always come true
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ken “draken” ryuguji x gn!reader
[7.3k] a sappy retelling of an old story, toute-belle, with a huntsman twist
a note: this is for @tsukkismoonlight‘s collab that they had a while back based on old fairytales/myths. it’s taken me quite a bit of time to finish this one but i hope you all enjoy! this is also,,, unedited :)
now playing… monster by dpsm (piano cover)
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“the end,” you concluded, flipping the last page of the picture book you held. placing it down on the bedside table, you shifted your weight on the bed to look at your two kids. two beautiful babies that you had nurtured into who they were today, though they weren’t babies anymore.
emiko, your eldest, a boy who looked just like his father was now six. and his younger sister kazumi, two years his junior, was now four. she strikingly resembled you, with her hair and eyes being oh so familiar to the ones you saw in the mirror. but her demeanor was ruled by her father. she was a daddy’s girl.
“do we have to go to bed now bubba?” emiko whined, pleading eyes boring into your soul. “can’t we just have one more story?”
you sighed and unbeknownst to you, your husband ken ryuguji, was smiling to himself at the doorway of your children’s bedroom. he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with the love he held for the three of you. you were such a good parent to your children and he felt so lucky to have married you and brought more light into the world.
“daddy!” squealed your four-year-old, and you turned your head to see him. a small smile graced your features not unlike the one that was also on ken’s face. he came to sit behind you, placing a kiss on your temple.
“what’s one more story my love?” he said, which in turn had your kids brighten up. he could never deny them anything and you sighed leaning back against him.
“well then by all means ken, please tell us a story,” you spoke softly, snuggling back into him as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. he glanced down at your face, the smile spreading. you looked so serene and he remembered the days when you were referred to as toute-belle by your kingdom.
“once upon a time…”
-
once upon a time, there was a brilliant and beautiful child that was born to the king. as soon as they were able to walk and explore the land, the people bestowed the nickname of toute-belle to them, meaning all beautiful. as the new heir was the most beautiful being in all of the land.
though in the early years of their life, the heir’s father, the king grew sick, and having lost their mother after their birth, toute-belle was left in the care of their stepmother. she had always been kind to the gem of the land, and so toute-belle was not disheartened.
as years went by their father grew sicker, and by the time toute-belle reached the age of fifteen the king passed. a tragedy to all those in the kingdom, but with toute-belle being too young to rule, the queen began her reign.
in the days and then weeks after the death of the king, toute-belle began to spend most of their time exploring the outskirts of the forest that was near the castle. and one day they met a young boy. he was the son of a huntsman.
slightly dozing while draken spoke, you hummed as he told the story. but it all sounded quite familiar to you. and as he continued, you realized what it was. it was your story.
you were fifteen when you met draken. the heir to the throne and wandering helplessly after the death of your father. he had been making more arrows for his training and you were just hoping to clear your thoughts.
your cloak trailed behind you, hood pulled over your head when you heard the sound of a stick snap and then a string of curses to follow. your eyes darted around until they settled on the source of the sound. he looked to be your age, with his blonde hair pulled back into a braid and black ink marking his head.
his head snapped up when you started to near him and you paused, pulling your hood back and sending him a tentative wave. his face showed no sign of emotion but he did wave you over.
draken knew who you were. he was the son of the huntsman after all and his father tended to work directly under the queen as of recently. this meant he was constantly in the palace. constantly around you, though it seemed you did not recognize him as he did you.
“hello,” your voice was soft, he noticed. and when he looked back at you again you were wearing a soft smile.
“your highness,” he spoke formally, placing his work next to him, as he bowed his head.
you chuckled and waved your hand in the air. “no need for formalities.” you told him your name and he nodded.
“well, your highn-” he paused and corrected himself with your name before continuing, “what brings you to the forest. it can be very dangerous for such royalty to be walking out on their own.” his observation of you made you shrink in on yourself slightly. you were still grieving and you did not have many people to talk to.
your stepmother had secluded herself from everything other than her duties. and there was no one around your age within the castle. oh how you wished you had been blessed with a sibling, but you also knew that you would not wish this grief upon anyone else. “i typically come out here to… think,” you settled on, kneeling to pick at the flowers.
draken nodded, knowing that you were still probably in the process of grieving your now late father. he was not one to pry and so he stayed there with you for a while. you plucking the small flowers, though he was sure they were some sort of weeds. and him working on his arrows for the training he had with his father the next day.
a year had passed since then and you considered draken a friend. whenever he was in the palace he always nodded your way and you waved. you would have lunch together and often go out to the forest. but the time for your eighteenth birthday celebration was approaching and so that was the topic that came up the most during the week before the events that had your life spiraling.
“how did your dress fitting go?” draken questions while the two of you walk around the forest looking for berries. draken was looking for poisonous ones to dip his arrows in, while you were looking for ones to aid in the makeup for your birthday celebration.
you smile over at him, delighted by the fact that he remembered. but draken was also just like that. he remembered the smallest of details and over the last year of knowing him it still made you smile. “it went well. i think it’s going to be stunning. my stepmother chose a brilliant red,” you’re stuck in your thoughts of the dress when you’re suddenly stopped by the man in front of you.
well rather you run into his back. “draken?” you question, but pause when you see he’s only stopped to pick more berries. the day goes on like that until he walks you back to the palace. you always had told him he didn’t have to and he would always insist that royalty such as yourself should not be out alone at such late hours.
after bidding your goodbyes you are not surprised to see your maid of honor, clara, waiting for you. though she seems to be looking closely at herself in the mirror. upon further inspection, you see she’s holding up earrings. your stepmother’s earrings to be exact. the ones that she promised to gift you for your birthday.
“clara?” you question and she snaps around to look at you. the look that graces her features is nothing short of shocked. you raise your eyebrows in suspicion but continue to stare at her wide-eyed.
“oh, uh, your highness,” she mutters, tucking the earrings behind her back. she must have taken you for a fool, standing in front of your mirror it was easy enough for you to see them in her hand. you continued to watch as she tucked them into the band of her apron. “how was your day with the huntsman’s son?” she questioned, putting on a normal demeanor.
her shift in demeanor seemed to throw you off, something that clara noticed, so she started to run your bath. “it was good. we picked some berries, mine were not for poisoning people, as draken’s were for his training. and we spent the rest of the time talking about the ball. i’m still trying to convince him to come, you know,” you spoke as you put your things down around the room. the berries were perfect and as you put them down in front of your mirror you couldn’t shake the thought that something was wrong with the way that clara was acting.
“you seem to be very close to that boy,” clara voiced knowingly, a small smile gracing her features as she walked behind you to brush your hair.
you felt your cheeks heat up, looking away from her gaze in the mirror. “i don’t know what you’re implying clara…” you trailed off, knowing that even though she was acting oddly, clara was a friend as well. you couldn’t hide the fact that you felt something for the boy that you had grown close to in the last year.
her giggles filled the room and you buried your face into your hands, a small laugh leaving your lips as well. “i’m sure it won’t take much convincing from the great toute-belle. especially when you two spend so much time together,” her gaze meets yours again in the mirror and the two of you bust into a fit of giggles.
the night continues to go that way, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is going on. and so you decide to ask your friend. “clara?”
she looks up from the berries that she’s crushing for your makeup to use for tomorrow. “what is it?”
you avoid her eyes when you ask your next question, “what were you doing with my stepmother’s earrings before i got here?” when you sneak another glance, her face has paled.
“you musn’t tell her. please, toute-belle, she’ll have my head if she knew,” you only continue to stare at her, a look of utter confusion left on your face. why would your stepmother have her head, if she was putting them away or even just looking how they looked for a moment. you were sure your stepmother would understand a young girl just wanting to have a bit of fun. clara continues as you ponder what it is she’s talking about. “i stole those earrings from the queen. i do not have the funds to be able to support my family and the kingdom is not well. the taxes have risen to be able to fund the queen’s spending,” she explains, and your heart immediately saddens for the friend who has tended to you for so long.
you decide to just agree with her for now, though the thoughts of her stealing plague your mind long after she has left for the night.
-
the day before your birthday you were out with draken once again. the conversation you had with clara was still sitting heavily on your mind and apparently, that was showing. you heard draken call your name and you looked to your right, where he was standing crossing his arms. the look on his face was nothing short of impatient. “i’ve been talking about rabbits for the past 10 minutes and you didn’t even realize,” he deadpans. “what’s on your mind highness?”
you sigh and notice that you’re by the well that you often came to with clara to retrieve water for your baths. “well it’s clara. she…” you hesitate and draken can sense the unease pouring from your tired mind. “she’s been stealing from my stepmother and i don’t know what to do. she claims that it is because she can no longer support her family with the taxes rising, and so i feel obligated to say nothing. but stealing is wrong, is it not?” you looked back at draken once again, to see his expression had softened.
he laid a hand on your shoulder, often one of his small forms of affection, and shook his head. “do you think that telling your stepmother might aid in clara being able to gain more compensation perhaps? she has been your maid of honor since you were both very young.” his conclusion seems to magically lift the weight off of your shoulders.
“of course!” you exclaimed, “if i talk to my stepmother about the situation, maybe she’ll be able to extend a little more to clara and her family. that could work! draken i thank you, i don’t know what i would do without you.” you hold his hands in yours excitedly and beam up at him to which you notice the tips of his ears tinting pink.
however, what you have not noticed, is clara fuming at the beginning of the path. she holds a water bucket and can only think that you are going to expose her deepest secrets to your stepmother and get her thrown out of her position. how could you?
to do this only because some boy you met suggested it? how long had she been there for you? how long had she been the one to comfort you after the passing of your father? it wasn’t fair to her. so she decided to take matters into her own hands.
abandoning the water pail, she set off back towards the palace. up the stairs, through the corridors, until she finally reached the throne room. she entered graciously and was announced to the queen. upon entering she could feel the icy stare of the queen and lightly shook her head. guilt was starting to eat at her, but clara needed to do what had to be done to protect her family.
“your highness, i have something of confidence to tell you,” clara stated, eyeing the knight that stood to the queen’s right. the queen only nodded, and clara was relieved that she trusted her so heavily.
“what is it child?” the queen questioned, staring at her with cold eyes.
clara hesitated before she had finally made up her mind. she had to tell the queen that it was you that had been stealing from her. “well as you know, i am toute-belle’s maid of honor, but as i was aiding the others in tidying up their vanity i noticed something and i wish to bring these back you. because i know for certain these do not belong to your stepchild.” with that clara withdrawals the earrings from her pocket that she stole herself, presenting them to the queen.
in an instant, the queen has risen from her throne and her look has turned from an icy glare to a furious gaze. “so you are saying that toute-belle has been stealing from me? their own family?” with each syllable her voice continued to raise in volume and it took every ounce of willpower for clara to not flinch away from the queen.
the young girl gulped and then nodded. “i do not know if this is all they have taken from you, but this is what i have found,” her voice was timid as she spoke, and she placed the earrings into the hand of the queen.
the queen only nodded and sent clara away, saying that she had some thinking to do. and clara, though she felt a small weight lifted from her shoulders, also felt as if she had made the biggest mistake in the world.
-
“what happened next papa???” emiko exclaimed, totally enthralled by the story. he did not know that this was the story that had brought you and his father together, nor did he know that he was a prince. nonetheless, he wanted to know more.
“well, i think we should continue the story tomorrow at breakfast, little ones. your bubba is getting tired,” ken spoke, referring to you, as you were in and out of sleep in his arms.
“bubba pleaseeee. can’t we just hear a little more,” kazumi whined, sitting up to shake your hand.
you laughed and then let out a small yawn. “it’s time for bed you two. we’ll continue this in the morning, you know your uncle manjiro will be here. what if he wants to hear the story too?”
that seemed enough for both of your children as they sighed and said their good nights to you and your husband. the both of you walked to your shared room and settled in for bed, facing each other.
“do you think we should tell them?” you whispered, tracing patterns on ken’s arm as you let out another yawn.
you felt the bed shift as he shrugged. “what difference would it make now? that isn’t our life, we have made something new for ourselves here. we’re a world away now,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you only nodded back, drifting off until the morning.
the morning seemed to come all too soon and you groaned as light peeked through the windows. but the smell of something sweet drifted to you from the kitchen as well. but that was odd because when you turned over in bed draken was still right next to you. “ken,” you mumbled, shaking his shoulder. “ken, mikey is cooking in our kitchen right now,” your voice was now at a normal tone and he shot up in bed immediately at your statement.
“i regret ever giving him a key to our house,” he groaned, making his way out of your shared room. you followed shortly after, seeing your children already around the table and babbling away at their uncle. ..well, more so cheering on your husband while he decided to reem mikey for breaking into your home.
“papa, you can’t kill uncle manjiro because he has to hear the rest of the story,” emiko groaned out, leaning up on his knees over the table to try and gain his father’s attention. mikey’s attention perked up at this, looking over to you.
“and what story would this be little ones?” he questioned, but you could tell he had an inkling of a feeling as you were finally telling your kids the story of your life.
“the story of toute-belle! papa was telling it to us last night and then bubba got too tired, so we had to wait until you got here and then and then,” kazumi began to ramble about how much she was enjoying the story so far and you couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. taking your place at the table, and accepting the drink that ken had made you, you calmed your daughter down a little.
“now now zumi, don’t you want papa to continue the story while uncle manjiro finishes up breakfast?” you question her while smoothing down her hair. she nods, finally finishing her adorable little rambles, and looks wide-eyed at draken.
“alright,” he began, “where were we…”
-
soon after the queen found clara in your quarters right before sundown. it was rare for her to seek clara out, and even more so to be found outside of what seemed to be her designated side of the castle. “i have spoken to my advisor.” with that statement alone clara shuddered. she knew that the queen’s advisor was a fairy who she often spoke to about how to take care of “special matters”. “they have advised me to have you push toute-belle into the well to take care of their breaches in our law. they have also told me that toute-belle has surpassed my beauty and therefore, this will kill two birds with one stone if you will.” as she concluded her statement, the queen looked over to clara. she only nodded to her once, before turning back to make sure that the girl did the same back.
it did not take much more time for you to return and for clara to come up with a plan. “ah your highness!” she exclaimed at your arrival to which you smiled kindly at her. you had decided with draken that you would not tell clara, as to try and take matters into your own hands first. if your stepmother did not wish to hear your suggestions, you would just dip into the allowance that was allotted to you to provide clara with a substantial amount to provide for herself and her family.
“how was your day clara?” you asked her as the both of you walked back out the door that you had come from. you both had decided earlier that you were to go together to get the water for your bath. you wanted just a moment for the two of you to be together before the following day’s events.
she filled you in on what she did that day, and you filled her in on your day with draken. the both of you, of course, omitting the conversations you had with draken and your stepmother. when you finally got to the point of the well, clara handed you the pail to collect the first bit of water. you had brought a bucket with you as well, but clara had insisted on carrying it for you. but as soon as you started to lower the pail, you felt yourself falling forward. a small cream escaped passed your lips before you landed on something a lot softer than you had anticipated the bottom of a well to feel like.
instead of it being cold and wet, it was warm and dry. your eyes had been glued shut due to your falling for the short time it had taken you to reach the bottom. though when you looked up it did seem as if you had fallen quite a ways. however, when you finally decided to see what you had landed on, it seemed to be… a dragon?
there was no way. dragons had not been seen in the kingdom for hundreds of years. it was believed that they were extinct. you had only ever seen them in picture books and heard of them in stories. but this was undoubtedly one of those that had been described to you.
the dragon seemed to be looking at you, though it didn’t say a word. it just began to walk back to where it came from. which was also surprising to you, because there shouldn’t be anything under the well. let alone a place for a dragon to live.
you continued to observe your surroundings as the dragon continued its way down what seemed to be a lit corridor. when would something like this have gotten into the well? and why wouldn’t you have known about it?
“excuse me?” you questioned. and the eyes of the dragon peered back up to you. thought you did not see its mouth move, you heard its voice call back to you.
‘yes?’ its voice was deep and gravely and because it was inside your head, shook you up a bit. but you remained calm on your exterior, so as not to disturb the being who had saved you.
“where exactly are we going?” you inquired once again, settling into your spot on its back. you figured because you couldn’t get back up into the world that you knew, that maybe you could explore this one before returning home.
‘to see my brothers. they will help to take care of you, as we know of the toute-belle of the land. we never thought that we would be graced with your presence, so they will be honored to have you as our guest. as am i,” you were touched by the words of the dragon you rode on and for the next weeks began to become accustomed to him and his brother's way of living.
you aided them in collecting food and collecting water to clean their scales. you aided in many things around their home and in turn, they told you tales of your home as well. when they did not have to stay in hiding and when they were friends with your father. during your short time away from the palace, you learned that though nobody had claimed to have seen dragons for hundreds of years, that was the doing of your stepmother.
when your father was alive, and when you were younger, the dragons used to be great friends. they were aids to him and in turn to you. they knew you when you were young but after your father’s passing, your stepmother decided that they were unworthy of taking care of your kingdom. according to your stepmother’s advisor.
you couldn’t believe this, how could she exile such kind beings? you decided after a few weeks of being within the confines of the well that it was time to make your way back home. you stood at the bottom of the well looking up and called for clara. continually you called for her and draken but nobody came.
unbeknownst to you, draken had been sent away by the queen for she knew that he would search for you. he and his father were sent to protect a new kingdom on such short notice, that draken didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. or so he thought. he did not know of your whereabouts but he had written you many letters during your one week apart.
your birthday ball had been canceled due to your stepmother telling the kingdom that you had fallen ill. nobody was allowed within your quarters, except for clara to “take care of you”.
but nobody could hear your cries for help, except for the advisor of the queen. “your majesty i come to you with dire news,” they breathed out in a hushed voice. they had been venturing by the forest to collect items for the upcoming task they needed to perform for the queen and had heard your calls for help. upon hearing you they were unsure if telling the queen was the right idea because you were toute-belle after all. how could one ever want to get rid of someone so beautiful and kind? but alas, they were also supposed to be trusted by such a woman and did not want to have her mistrust them.
the fairy paused, waiting in front of the queen whose hateful energy seemed to seep out of her. she was furious. she had one of her handmaids send for clara at once. while they waited the queen finally spoke to the fairy. “what of those poisonous walnuts you spoke of? do you still have them?” the queen questioned and the fairy stilled.
when they had brought up the prospect of such things, it was to poison another diplomat from a rivaling nation. this would have given the kingdom an upper hand in trade and continued to stimulate the economic success that the queen had been providing. unfortunately, the fairy did not return on time from their venture to poison the diplomat.
but they did have them now and the queen demanded that they be given to clara to give to you. and so that was what she did.
clara felt as if the walk to the well was a treacherous journey. she hadn’t had to think about the guilt that had begun to eat at her when she initially pushed you into the well. at least not when she got to lounge in your room and pretend to live a life of luxury. clara was finally able to provide for her family with the extra compensation that the queen provided her. but apparently, you were not easily killed, and that made clara’s, and her family’s life, harder.
when she finally arrived at the well she heard your cries and almost flinched away from the sound. your voice was as sweet as ever, if not slightly distraught. “clara? draken? anyone? please i need to go home now,” your cries for help drifted up the well and pierced right through clara and into her guilt-ridden heart. she swallowed around the guilt building up in her throat and then leaned over to plaster on a timid smile to you.
“your highness!” she called down. to you her voice sounded strained but you supposed it could have been the distance between you both.
“oh clara! i need to get out of here. i cannot believe that i could have fallen. but i also wonder why my stepmother hasn’t sent for me yet?” you called up to her and clara began to let the continuous stream of lies spew from her mouth.
“she is doing everything she can toute-belle. her advisor is going to break the curse that keeps beings down in the well so that you may be able to come home. but in the meantime, she sends you these,” with her final statement clara drops down a small drawstring bag that falls softly into your hands.
“these are walnuts that contain the magic blessing of the fairy that advises your stepmother. they made sure to have them given to you to save you from any creatures that may be prowling down there.”
you shake your head but open the bag to reveal the walnuts. there were no other creatures down in the well other than the dragons and yourself. you knew that your stepmother was up to something, but the fairy had never done anything to harm you.
your eyes travel back up the walls of the well and finally land on clara once more. “i hope to see you soon then my friend. i cannot wait to hear about all you have done in the week of my absence.” your words are short and you turn on your heel abruptly to go back to the home of your newfound friends.
after clara’s visit, her words sit heavy on your mind as you eat dinner with the dragons. they ask you if you had any luck with trying to go home, as they knew of the curse as well. how could they not? it was what had trapped them there for what seemed like eons. you tell them that you have no answers even after clara’s visit and they ask you if you are ready to prepare for dinner. you nod politely to them and continue to talk about other things that don’t surround the curse. this curse is something that you all talk about whenever you receive a visit from someone who comes to the well. which hasn’t been often.
while you’re preparing the dinner, you retrieve the walnuts from your pocket that had been gifted to you. what harm could a snack before dinner have? but as you bring one up to your mouth, the tail of one of your companions knocks it away. “your highness!” the voice booms, as all eyes have now laid themselves upon you.
“what? i can share if you’d all like…” you trail off when you hear the chuckles of the dragons around you.
“it is not that your highness. those walnuts have been spelled. if you were to eat them you would die,” he concludes, his eyes never wavering from you. you’re the first to look away, marching over to the fire. you toss the bag into the fire near the entrance to the beach. staring out at the waves, you sigh and continue back to preparing dinner.
-
“why would someone want to poison toute-belle?!” your daughter exclaims and mikey chuckles. your children's eyes dart over to their uncle and then back to their father.
“it’s because the queen was jealous of toute-belle and that clara was also jealous. both for different reasons, but still jealous kiddos.” mikey’s answer is definitive, and though both of your kids are curious they hold their tongues, looking back to draken to finish the story.
“let’s clean this all up before we keep going. we can move to the common area, okay?” draken says, while grabbing a couple of the plates off of your dining table.
“what’s the fun in that, papa?” mikey jokes, using draken’s name from your kids. you roll your eyes, taking to the kitchen while mikey decides to continue the story.
-
the following day, clara was called to the throne room once again. this time it was only the fairy that was there and the queen was nowhere to be seen. “clara,” she spoke quietly, her voice just above a whisper. “i believe that the toute-belle did not eat the walnuts. the dragons in the wells are too clever to not have sensed the poison that was within them.” clara’s face darkened at the news. “but i think i have a solution that would ensure that we would not have to kill someone that you may have once called your friend.” the fairy continued, her voice piercing clara’s heart.
she knew that what she had been doing was wrong, no matter if it aided her family. but what else was she supposed to do in a situation like this? shaking her head, clara was making her way back to the well. this time with the dress that you were supposed to have worn for your birthday ball. “toute-belle!” she called out once more, though with more conviction. for this time clara knew that you would not die. you would only fall to sleep once you put on the cursed dress. something that your companions would not sense.
you appeared soon after her calling began for you and you waved up at her, smiling brightly as you always had. you had no resentment toward clara and knew that she was only doing what she was being told in fear of her family. though clara hesitated when she saw you, holding the dress close to her, thinking that maybe she should just turn around now.
“has the queen sent you with news?” you questioned, voice strained and garbled against the stone of the well. and with that inquiry clara steeled herself. this would be the one good thing that she could do for you.
“she has no news yet toute-belle, but i have brought you a gift,” as carefully she could, clara dropped the dress down the well, as long as a small group of envelopes bound by rope. “this is your dress, the one that you were supposed to wear for the ball. i know it is not very practical, but it’s at least something to remind you of home…” clara pauses, hesitant to bring up the idea of draken, knowing how much you cared for him. “the other items are letters from draken. he has written to you every week since he left.” and then she is gone.
you are shocked, not just by clara’s sudden departure but by the fact that draken has left and you hadn’t even known he had gone. you venture back the way you came to the well opening, into your newfound home. the dragons seem to perk up at your arrival again, but sense that there is something wrong. “toute-belle, what is the matter?” one questions, their tail brushing your hair back. you smile, knowing that they hold nothing but love for you.
“clara, she has brought me some items from home. to feel a little closer. and it was my birthday recently so i think that she brought these as a present,” you explained to them about the ball that you were supposed to have, and that this would have been the dress you would have worn. you tell them of the people who would have attended, but you had never spoken so highly of anyone other than your father. but draken was a close second and the dragons noticed this with a knowing glint behind their eyes.
“why don’t you try on your dress toute-belle? if not to just feel a little closer to the moment when you would get to dance with your friend draken,” the knowing tone of their voices caused heat to rise to your cheeks but you eagerly nodded anyway.
you took to the shores of the beach, as it was abandoned and also affected by the curse that the queen had put upon the dragons. so changing there was safe, but as soon as you slipped the dress over yourself, you felt increasingly tired. you barely made it a few steps before collapsing. and that was where they found you, the dragons that is. they found you at the mouth of the opening leading to the beach.
at first, they were shocked. how could something so terrible happen to someone so beautiful and kind, as you, toute-belle? but then they wept. the dragons wept and spent days creating a beautiful place for you to rest. somewhere just as beautiful as you. they placed your body in a glass encasement so that they would be able to see and talk to you when they missed you a little extra. you were surrounded by your favorite flowers, which took them forever to find. and the letters addressed to you from draken were cradled under your hands, as they laid you to rest.
another week or so seemed to pass before, the tides started to rise. the dragons never thought that they would raise so high as to take you away from them, but they did. and as you floated away, the less the dragons could see you, the more likely it seemed to be that you had sunk into the ocean. like their dreams of being reunited with the surface world and getting to see you reunited with your people.
another week passed before your encasement reached life again. though life isn’t what one could necessarily call it. more like a rocky landscape, that could considered as a shore. the shore to the kingdom across the sea, which was ruled by the sano. it was the youngest son of the family who found you. he went by the name of mikey at the time. he knew that if anyone else found you, they would cause chaos around the thought of a young woman in what seemed to be a glass coffin. so he hoisted you out and took you to the one place he knew you would be safe. the huntsman’s chambers.
he made sure you had all of your belongings with you and banged on the door as soon as he reached his destination. “come on draken…” he mumbled to himself, banging once again on the door. it flew open moments later and before draken uttered a word he grew pale and rushed mikey inside.
“where did you find her?” he breathed out as mikey laid you on draken’s bed. draken couldn’t believe that you were here in front of him after all this time. it had only been a month, maybe two, since your eighteenth birthday. but the two of you had grown so close in that time, that he knew that maybe, just maybe he had been in love. that love just didn’t go away when he was forced to leave with his father.
“on the shore. she was basically in a coffin made out of glass draken. i’m going to get emma, she can change her into something more comfortable so that when she wakes up her clothes aren’t wet. she’s probably freezing and we can’t have the love of your life getting sick now can we?” mikey’s voice was teasing, draken being a close friend since they had met years prior. all draken could do was nod, trying his best not to disturb you. when he didn’t look away from you mikey just sighed, and draken heard the door shut behind him. how could this have happened to you? who could have done something like this to you? but his answer was already in the back of his mind. his father had warned him early on of the intentions of the queen.
it only seemed like seconds before emma was shoving him out of the room so that she could change you out of the dress that you were in and into the clothes that she had brought. mikey was right about one thing, you were as cold as a corpse. but as soon as you were changed, it seemed that you were brought back to life. you shot forward, almost knocking your head against emma’s, and searching around the room rapidly. “draken!” the girl before you called out and your head shot to the door that slammed against the wall. your best friend was standing right there, and you couldn’t seem to move from your spot.
before you even had the chance he was engulfing you in a hug. “toute-belle,” he mumbled and the sano siblings shared a worried glance. they hadn’t known that the one that draken had been telling them about over the short period that he had been with them was the toute-belle. over the course of the next couple of days, you told them everything. you stayed in draken’s room with emma while he and mikey went to attend to duties and in the evening you continued to tell them your story.
shortly after the queen was overthrown, but you decided it was best to leave the people in the hands of your father’s head of council. or more so, his son mitsuya. he knew of what happened to you due to his and mikey’s friendship. he kept your whereabouts a secret, but got the curse lifted off of the dragons with the help of the queen’s fairy who said that she was forever in debt to you due to how she felt about the treatment and misdoings of the queen. from then on you served within the sano court until about five years later when you and draken decided to get married.
-
“and so the toute-belle and the huntsman got married after finally being able to be together and start a little royal family of their own. but they did so in the peace and quiet of a small town within the ruling of the sano family. and they lived happily ever after.” with a small pause draken took a sip of his tea and smiled at your children who were so entranced by the tale that they didn’t seem to know the story had ended. mikey grinned from ear to ear, swooping emiko up, and began to run around the house, causing your youngest to follow right after them.
you leaned into your husband’s side, a soft smile gracing your features as you admired the ones you loved. “do you think that one day we should tell them that they’re royalty?” you posed the question a little differently this time, to see what he would say.
ken laughed at this and shook his head. “do you think that one day we should tell them they are the children of the huntsman from their fairytales?” he questioned back, placing a kiss on your hairline. “i think that when the time is right, that they will find their own paths just like you were able to toute-belle.” and you laughed at the name, something that reminded you of where you had first met the man in front of you.
“well at least my path led me to you,” you snuggled a little closer to him and he held you just a bit tighter. because with all of the trials that you two had faced to get here, you had found a family that would always love you for you and not just toute-belle. and that was all that you needed.
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tsukkismoonlight · 4 months
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When It Comes To You || J.K × Reader
Summary: You've somehow gotten stuck with the most obnoxious (Minus boy genius Armin Arlert) group ever for a college class project. Eren Jeager, and Jean Kirstein. The latter of which seems to find a way to weasel his way into your life, making your plans for a quiet college experience fall away.
Author's Note: okay, like a year and some odd change in months later i'm finally posting this fic!! Honestly life kinda got in the way but we all know how it is. Anywayyyys, I hope yall enjoy! This is my first longer fic, so let me know what you guys think! Also super big shoutout to my buddies on discord for beta reading the first portion of this! <3 wk: 16.7k
Warnings: unedited, probably ooc characteristics who knows
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"Would you two knock it off?" were your first words since the two bone-headed, annoying, loud-mouthed boys had started arguing. 
Here you were, in an empty classroom, supposed to be working on a group project for at least an hour or two, and the /only/ thing that your group had done was bicker back and forth. 
The first of the two boneheads, Eren Jeager, had spent the whole time insisting on his ideas, and his ideas alone, while the other, Jean Kirstein, had only been arguing that the former's ideas were stupid and that 'if anything, Eren should shut his trap and just do the grunt work.'
The blonde, Armin Arlert, was clearly just as done with them, but took a more quiet approach to trying to stop them. Any time he could interject, he tried to reason with the two, but of course neither would listen. 
So, when you stood up, slamming your palms onto the table and shouting at them, all three of them quickly grew quiet. "We only have so much time to work on this project, and I am /not/ going to fail this project because you two idiots can't let go of your egos for more than two seconds!" 
"Well, maybe if this asshole would-" Eren started, mostly keeping his voice at a low grumble, sounding like a scolded child.
Jean, cutting Eren's words short while crossing his arms across his chest, "Oh yeah, /I'm/ the asshole here…"
But with another of your glares sent to both of them, the two stopped once more.
"Maybe we should split up the work?" Armin was already writing out two plans, where you could make out his name and Eren, meaning that you were stuck with Jean. 
Not that you wanted to be with either of them. You'd rather take Armin and just leave the other two to fail. But, as this was a group project, Professor Hange had made it clear that points were to be docked for any group that did not complete the assignment together.  
You plopped back into your seat, sighing heavily. "Okay, we will work in two groups. Looks like Eren, you're going with Armin, and Jean, you're with me." You paused as Armin slid over the paper he had drafted up. 
Glancing over it, you could see that he had given you and Jean a good amount of work, yet he had still given himself more. Part of you wanted to point it out, maybe even offer to take some of the load, but the other part of you knew that Armin would refuse and somehow make it sound like the nicest thing he'd ever do.
"Okay, so, from there, once all the research is done, Armin and I will meet up in person to work on the presentation bits, which means that Eren and Jean, you will only need to put your findings in a document for us. That should be easy enough." 
When no one objected, you started to pack up your things.You waited for Jean to take a picture of the draft before tucking it away in a folder carefully. 
Around you, the others started to do the same. With a small breath of relief, you finished packing up and slung your bag over your shoulders, looking to each of your groupmates slowly. "If anyone has questions,” you announced, “please text me. I gave Armin my number already, but if you need mine, ask now."
Eren slid his phone across the table to you, a sour look on his face, as he was clearly upset with the whole situation, and the fact that he had been yelled at over it. You ignored his attitude and typed in your number before returning the phone to him.
Next was Jean, who looked at you for a few moments, then handed his phone over to you, where you repeated the process of saving your number for him. 
With that done you set off to your dorm.You didn't live alone, but it was bound to be a wonderful change in pace (and in volume levels). When you arrived, you slipped your shoes off and headed for your room, pausing for a second as you saw one of your roommate and probably your closest friend Sasha Braus. Currently she was sitting on the floor of her room, clutching a bowl of soup…or what was probably a bowl of soup, as it was empty now. 
"Oh, hey! You're back already?" she asked, turning to you with a spoon dangling from her mouth. It caused a slight slur in her words, so it came out more like, "Ohhh, heyyy, yer bick alreaty?"
With a sigh, you walked into her room, dropping your bag by the door before flopping onto her bed (which was incredibly comfortable). "Yeah, I called it quits early because I got paired with Armin, Jean, and Eren, and Armin is fine and all, but your stupid friend and Eren can't go more than five seconds without fighting." 
You could hear a soft clink as Sasha put her spoon down. "Well, it always works for me to hit them." 
"I can't hit my group mates…even if I want to," you grumbled, rolling over onto your side so you could see her.
"I can hit them for you then, just tell me when and where." She flexed her arms, raising her eyebrows up and down at you as she did so. 
This caused a breathy laugh to come from you. You could feel yourself starting to relax. Your two roommates were probably the only reason that you had stayed sane so far. 
Sasha was always good at getting you to smile, at times she wouldn't stop until you showed some sign of positivity. And of course you were more than grateful for it. 
When you had first moved to the dorms, you had kept to yourself, unsure if you really liked her at all. But with time, you warmed up to her easily. 
There had been a handful of nights where she would invite you to stay up and just talk, or watch some movie. And, at times, she would share food with you, which you learned wasn't always her favorite thing to do. 
"Hey, one of these days we need to catch up on Food wars." 
You looked back to her, nodding along, "Oh for sure! Maybe sometime this next week I can stay up with you and we can watch it. Maybe buy some junk food too." 
At the prospect of snacks, she perked up even more. "Can we get-"
"Yes, we can get the baked potato flavored chips." 
"You didn't even let me finish!" Sasha pouted a little, though still unable to hide her excitement at the confirmation of her favorite snack.
You reached down and flicked her forehead lightly, "Well I already knew what you were going to say. It wasn't hard to figure out."
"Hey! I could have asked for something different! Like, salt and vinegar ones!" 
"You don't even like those, and neither do I. We wouldn't ever buy any." 
The two of you talked for another five or so minutes until she had to leave, shouting something about Connie Springer owing her dinner. You took the time to go back into your own room which you actually shared with a third roommate ( neither of you wanted to share a room with Sasha because of her snoring). However, he wasn't home yet, which meant that he'd probably be back late.
You pulled your laptop out of your bag and plugged it in; then you went to grab your notebooks, some pens and pencils, and finally your copy of the book for your project. It was best to get a headstart on the project, as it was worth most of your grade. 
Professor Hange had assigned the class to read and analyze an old book written by a nameless author. The idea and plot was interesting to a point. It was a war between mere humans, and a race of humans that could take control of what they called titans. The main two parties at war were named Marley and Eldia, both of which claimed that the other was in the wrong, and had vowed to take revenge, wanting to eradicate the other's existence. Towards the end, there was something of a compromise, and Marley seemed to come out victorious. All in all, there was a lot more to it, and the details were typically gorey and morally wrong. The ending wasn't ever written, leaving all readers to question what they knew and what they may not have been told. 
This is where your project came in: you were to try and look into the book, outside sources, even artwork, whatever the class could get their hands on, and work on an analysis. Hange hadn't given many guidelines; they wanted to leave it open and see what the class would come up with. Your group hadn't made a decision yet, but so far, Eren was dead set on writing an analysis on who he thought was right and freedom and some other crap, while Jean only had talked about how Eren was wrong. 
Luckily enough, Armin had already written up a potential analysis summary, one that focused on how the two sides were similar and what they shared in common with the rest of humanity, and how trying to pick a side would only allow their bloody history to repeat again. His was rather long winded, but it allowed for you to pick and choose the best parts, and what you guys wouldn't really need. 
You spent some time searching the internet for more sources, coming across a few articles on what could be a deeper meaning to the story, and a few on what could have been the rest of the world's view on both Marley and Eldia. 
That was when you came across a page for the local museum; it seemed that there was going to be an exhibit about the book, featuring many different artists and even some written works. Taking a moment to write down the dates and price for tickets in your phone’s note app. You then sent a quick text to Armin about it, letting him know that if he wanted, you could go and check it out with Jean. 
Clicking your phone off, you gave a heavy sigh and stood up, pulling your arms above your head in a stretch before continuing to work on the project. You knew that you should probably eat something, and drink some water, as you hadn’t really been able to do so in the last few hours. But with the project being so important, you decided against getting back up. If you got up now, chances were that you’d end up wasting some time doing who knows what. You really needed to just focus on your work, food, water and relaxing could come later. This was typical for you, what was one more time anyways?
Quietly, your afternoon quickly turned to night, and you wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for both of your roommates crashing into your room. 
You turned around, eyeballing Sasha and your third roommate, Marco Bodt, unsure if you really wanted to ask questions. 
"She was drinking with Connie at his place," 
"Huh? Noo I waz'nt ! Conn and I were jus playin a game an' then…and then..mmkay maybe I was drinking, but!" Sasha rambles on for a minute, still leaning heavily on Marco, who just gave a half hearted and weary smile. 
You shook your head, and stood up, making your way over to Sasha taking her off Marco's hands "Was Connie like this too?" you asked.
"Yeah, he and Jean both…" Marco sighed, following you as you took Sasha to her room. While you carefully put her in her bed,  Marco pulled her shoes off for her. 
At his words, you paused for just a moment then you continued to fish Sasha's phone from her pocket, placing it on the charger for her. 
"Of course, Jean was drinking, too." you remarked. You tried your best to ignore the irritation rising in you. It wasn't like you guys had to get the whole project done right away, or that Jean couldn't enjoy a drink with his friends. But, it wouldn't surprise you if only Armin and yourself had been the only two to even start.
As the two of you left Sasha to sleep, Marco motioned to the kitchen, saying, "Hungry?" You gave a small nod in response.
Once in the small kitchen area, you hopped onto the counter while your roommate got to work on making something simple. From the looks of it, he was just making mac and cheese, but you couldn't really care less. You hadn't noticed it earlier, but you were actually starving. 
A quiet buzz from your pocket pulled your attention from Marco cooking, and you pulled your phone out, seeing a few messages from an unsaved number. 
"Heyy, it's me"
"Jean"
"just figured i'd text you since we have be partners"
"Not complaining cause i dont wanna be stuck with eren" 
You shook your head at your phone, typing a quick reply back, “Wow really? I couldn’t tell.”
Another buzz, another incoming message, “I really hate that guy. He’s stuck up, and always thinks he’s right”
“You know, I feel like there’s someone else like that too.” You sucked in a deep breath, already feeling a tinge of annoyance creeping its way into your body. Sure, Jean was bound to be the better of the two, but that didn’t mean that you wanted him texting you about his testosterone fueled hatred for Eren.
A few moments pass before he texts you again, the words a little hard to make out at first, “you better not be implying that im like him”
“I would never do that. You are an okay person in my eyes”
“Just okay? I’m fuckin’ great!”
“Yeahh, sure. I agree with you, 100%”
You could almost feel his skeptical gaze through your phone as he sent yet another message, “I dont know if I believe that.”
“I dont care if you believe it or not tbh”
“I cant tell if you like me or not”
At this, you paused. You didn’t really know the guy outside of what you were told by Marco and Sasha. And he definitely did not know you. If he did, he wouldn’t be bothering you right now. But as much as that all was true, you also didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t like him, at least not over text while he was suspiciously hitting you up out of the blue.
“im not sure if like is the right word. Right now I tolerate you.” 
“Thats a good thing right?”
You didn’t answer, figuring that he would eventually get the hint. But, within minutes, he was texting you yet again. You watched as more messages popped up one by one, all of which just as hard to read as the others. Though you eventually figured them out. He was promising to do his share of the project, as well as promising to keep on schedule with it. The last thing he sent was asking to meet up tomorrow, and figure out what you wanted him to do, and something about how he couldn't really understand the guideline sheet. 
You sent a quick reply, just a place and a time, before returning your phone to your pocket, and just in time, Marco had a bowl of delicious mac and cheese for you. 
"Thanks man, you're the best." 
"Hey, you cooked last night," he said, shrugging, "and somehow it was pretty impressive, given the fact that we're all super broke and have next to nothing in our cupboards," 
You let out a small laugh at that. "I am a person of many talents."
"Do tell your secrets, as I am eager to know," Marco says in-between bites, playing into the bit.
"Oh, I couldn't, because then you would have to learn my /tragic/ backstory of how I had to fend for myself as a child." You dramatically sigh, placing a hand to your forehead, and then paused, peeking out at Marco before saying, "That part is actually true. At my house, we often had 'Fend for Yourself Nights' where you kinda just threw stuff together it could be leftovers, cereal or, like, dry ramen." 
Marco chuckles, pointing his fork at you and saying "So that must be the secret then!" 
The kitchen rendezvous went on for a while longer before you both headed off to bed, agreeing that Sasha can do the dishes when she wakes up. 
The next day, you had managed to drag yourself out of bed and find your way to the coffee shop where you were supposed to be meeting up with Jean. 
Key word is 'supposed' to be, since it had been 30 minutes since you had gotten there. Hopefully, you didn't look like some poor soul that had gotten stood up on a date and more like someone enjoying their Saturday morning. 
Another ten minutes passed, and no word from Jean, you had finished your coffee, and had already finished working on pulling out key information from a few of the web sources that you found the night before. 
You glanced at the time again and cursed under your breath. You had better things to be doing. So, you quickly pack up your things and toss out the trash before leaving.  
Just as you returned to the little table to grab your bag, the bell at the door chimed, drawing your attention.  
There stood Jean Kirstein himself, out of breath, hair hastily brushed out of his face, and clothes a whole mess…you were pretty sure he had worn them yesterday too. 
However, his sudden entrance had also gathered stares from everyone in the shop;most people looked on with a frown, questioning why he had just thrown open the door like that, just to stand there looking like a lost puppy. 
You groaned, marching towards him and then grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the way. 
"Seriously? You show up almost an hour late, and make a big scene?!" you say, continuing to pull him down the sidewalk.
"I know, I know!" He took in a sharp breath, stumbling as he went. 
"I mean seriously?! What's your deal?" 
"I didn't mean to be late! And can you stop shouting? My head is killing me…" 
You came to an abrupt stop and turned around to face him. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to be late, you were still late! I mean, come on, I sat there and looked completely stupid while I waited!" 
At your words, he tugged his arm free from your grasp, and hesitated for a moment before, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry. I should have been here on time." 
"Or at least texted me to tell me!" You sighed, bringing a hand up to your temple. "Whatever, let's just find somewhere else to sit and I can show you what your part of the project is." 
With those words, the two of you walked in silence until you were back at campus, arriving at one of the rooms designated for studying. It didn't take long to run through Jean's responsibilities, and for you both to settle into a somewhat uncomfortable quiet and begin to work. 
Currently, you were taking the information gathered earlier and writing them into evidence for your thesis while Jean was searching for art pieces to analyze. 
Every fifteen to twenty minutes or so, you'd check in with eachother and help if needed-and Jean needed more help than you did, really. 
And maybe if he hadn’t spammed you with drunk texts the night before, and then came late to your meeting, it wouldnt have bothered you as much. So when he did ask for your help, you were being short and to the point. Luckily for you, helping him was easy. It consisted of choosing between artwork, and identifying key themes or details that stood out, and then giving him ways to write it down so that it made sense with the overall idea behind your project. Now and then, you'd have him read over what you wrote, just to see what all he thought and if he had any suggestions.
Finally, after a few hours, Jean leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. "Okay, I think we've got a lot done. Why don't we break for the day?" he suggested.
At his words, you hesitated. While a break did sound nice, you'd much rather keep working. If you got ahead, there'd be time for breaks later, or time for helping Armin and the others. 
"You go on ahead, I'm going to stay a little longer. Thanks for showing up today." You gave a small smile before looking back down to your laptop, trying to spot where you left off. 
For a moment or so, Jean packed up his things, not necessarily quietly, but enough for it not to bother you. Though, after he finished doing so, he didn't leave. Instead, he stood /annoyingly/ close to you, seemingly trying to burn holes into the back of your head. 
"Is there something you need or…?" 
"You're seriously going to stay and work more?" 
"...Yeah?" 
Jean let out a small series of 'tsk' noises and began to close your notebooks and the few textbooks you had brought. You stuttered out half of a sentence, none of it making any sense, as you watched him stack up your things, his finishing move to carefully close your laptop without even shutting it off. 
"What are you…Why…I mean-what?" 
"I think you work too hard." he remarked, grinning. Normally that would sound snarky coming from him, this time he sounded gentle, and nothing in his face seemed to show any ill will. "I mean, I've never seen you do anything fun. All you do is push yourself to do work." 
You were at a loss for words, face heating up with embarrassment. Just because he had never seen you do fun things didn't mean that you were some sort of shut in who only ever focused on homework and studying. 
Jean waited for you to pack your things, all of which you did while in a small haze, trying to comprehend it all. When you were done, he motioned for you to follow him, not saying a word of what he had planned. 
The two of you walked outside, Jean slightly ahead of you as he continued to lead the way. Occasionally, someone would stop Jean, asking him about a party or a class. He seemed to have a lot of friends, or rather just a lot of acquaintances.
Eventually, you both came to a little grassy field, one where students often came to waste time, or play games like spikeball, or frisbee. Currently, it wasn't very busy, and the two of you found a spot to sit and relax under a warm spring sky.
For the first five minutes, you sat in silence, an almost comfortable one. You found yourself mumbling about how this wasn't so bad, noticing from the corner of your eye as Jean turned to look at you. 
"Would I ever lead you astray?" Jean elbowed you carefully, earning a scowl from you. 
"Given that we don't really know each other, I'm not sure," you retorted. 
"I know that we've had at least three classes together since freshman year, and that you don't seem to like anyone," he pointed out. 
"Not true,” you said. “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot," 
At this he barked out a laugh, a wonderful sound really, compared to his typical evil sounding snicker. "Okay, so you appreciate the presence of three specific people." 
"Three? I only named two people," you said, holding up two fingers to signify your only two friends. 
"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but right now you don't seem to hate me, so I counted myself."
You gave another scowl."If we were able to pick our own groups, I would have picked other people, just for the record" 
"Ouch, that kind of stings." 
You couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but one thing you did know was that he probably wouldn't have picked you either.  Not that it really bothered you. While it was true that you've shared classes in the two years that you've been in college, the two of you never really talked. 
Sure, you've had the quick conversations in the hall, or maybe accidentally bumped into each other when trying to take Sasha home, or even just when Jean would hang out with Marco at your dorm. 
It wasn't that you didn't like him (aside from his huge ego and inability to get along with certain people) or even that you didn't like people in general. You honestly just wanted to focus on school, so that you would graduate on time, and get the hell out of this town. Personal relationships could come later, and you were completely content with that. Being alone wasn't something that bothered you. Or, something that you /let/ bother you. 
You leaned back until you were laying down in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky. The more you thought about it, the more your head seemed to churn with an anxious and maybe even guilty conscience. 
"By the way, I'd say that, even though we didn't get to pick our own groups, I don't mind being paired with you." You sighed, keeping your eyes trained on the sky as Jean laid down next to you. 
From there, the conversation switched to a few different topics, one of them being a small argument over the particular shape of a cloud and what you thought it was. 
Eventually, the clouds dissipated, and the sky faded from its blue to a dusty orange lined with a pale pink-ish-purple. 
"I guess it's time to go home for the night," Jean said. 
"Mhm, guess so," you quietly said, but made no effort to sit up yet. 
Next to you, Jean stood, brushing off his clothes and running a hand through his hair, attempting to make sure there wasn't any grass on his person. Then, when it was apparent that you still hadn't even moved, he nudged you with his shoe. "You coming or what?" 
"I’m waiting," 
"For what?" 
"The first star I see" 
Jean slowly looked away from you and to the sky, "Can I ask why?" 
"No." 
It wasn't really a big deal, but this was your favorite time of the day, and you had the habit of looking for the first star you could find and making a small wish on it. It had been something you'd done ever since you were a kid; old habits die hard. But it wasn't something you just went and told people about, especially not someone like Jean. You were sure that he'd poke fun at you for it. 
His voice pulled you away from your thoughts, and you watched as he pointed just above your heads. "I think there's one over there." 
From your perspective, he was lined up to where the star was atop his finger.The sight made you smile softly; you didn’t notice that he had glanced back down, watching the small moment. 
"Okay, now we can go." You sat up slowly and climbed to your feet, grabbing your bag from where it had been by your feet. 
The two of you parted ways for the night, and you found yourself back at your dorm, which was uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Either Sasha would come home drunk again (or with her hands full of food that she got from Connie or that Niccolo guy) or that she would stay out for the night. Marco on the other hand, was probably visiting some other friends for the short weekend, so most likely, you had the place to yourself until the following evening. 
With the freedom at hand, you took some time to make dinner and lounged around the shared living space, until eventually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you forced yourself into your bed for the night.
The sound of knocking at your door woke you up. At first, you had half a mind to ignore it, but with your roommates, and the friends they had, the knocking wouldn't stop.  You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was around noon, a time that you hardly ever slept in till.
"Yeah, okay, I'm up. Who is it?" you grumbled at the door, noting that if it was Marco, he wouldn't necessarily need to knock, meaning that it must be Sasha. 
And it was. At your words, she swung the door open lazily, and leaned around the corner, "Heyyy, I was wondering if you had plans today? Connie, Jean, and I were going to play some volleyball! Wanna come? Marco is gonna join us later!" 
You took a moment to think it over. It was Sunday, so you didn't have classes, and depending on how long you were out, you could always do more homework later. Not to mention, Jean's comment about how you worked too much was still fresh in your mind. 
"...Yeah, okay, I'll come play. Give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed." 
She gave you a huge grin, shouting over her shoulder, "They said they'd come! You guys still have the net?" 
You watched as she disappeared back into the main area of the dorm, and then shut your door to change. When you exited, you could see the three of them waiting by the door, Jean holding the net, while Connie was tossing the ball between his hands. 
The walk was fairly short, as Jean had suggested the field that the two of you had been at the other day, and just like the day before, there weren't very many people out. You guys could set up a spot without having to worry about anyone else. 
At least, that's how it was at first. The game went smoothly. Surprisingly, all three of them were pretty good at the sport; though, if you had to rank them, it would be Sasha, then Jean (mostly because he can use his height to his advantage), and then Connie. 
For the first game you played, it was you and Sasha versus Jean and Connie. Then, it switched to you and Connie, and finally, you and Jean. 
No one was really counting points; no one could keep track, though each side was sure that they were winning, even if they weren't. It was about halfway through the current match, right as you were about to serve, when something came crashing into your head. 
It had hit you pretty hard, and it took you a moment to even realize what had happened and what was currently happening. 
"Hey, man, watch where you throw this thing! You nearly took my partner out!" Jean was holding a football and pointing it aggressively at another college student, who you think was named Floch or something close to it. 
The guy snatched the ball from Jean, giving him the dirtiest look. "Well, maybe you guys shouldn't be playing so close to where we are." 
At this, Connie and Sasha stepped up. Connie took to Jean's side, starting to bicker with the guy, while Sasha checked your head, fussing over you. 
"Just say sorry to our friend already. You can at least agree that you hit them!" You weren't sure who said that, as all the voices blended together until that moment. Suddenly all eyes were on you. 
More specifically, Floch's eyes. He regarded you warily, annoyance clear in his eyes and voice. "Your dumbass friend looks fine to me,” he sneered. “And besides, we tried to warn them, and they didn't move. It's their own fault. Don't go blaming me for your friend being an idiot." 
You weren't sure what came over you; maybe it was anger from the childish name calling, or maybe it was the stress of the week getting to you, but within an instant, you had crossed the few feet to get to him, and threw a punch. 
You watched as he stumbled back, nearly running into one of his nameless friends, as he clutched at his face. He was clearly seeing red.
"How dare you!" he shouted out. He started to make his way over to you, obscenities of all sorts falling from his mouth.
None of which you really heard, because at that exact moment, Sasha and Connie both shouted the same thing, 'Run,' and took off. 
And, before you knew it, Jean grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he chased after the two, until you four were sure that Floch and his extras weren't going to follow you. 
When you finally stopped, everyone was bent over, stuck in between laughing and gasping for air. 
"Holy shit! That was insane!" Sasha wheezed out, and straightened out, turning to the group with a large smile on her face.
Connie spoke next, hands still on his knees. "I can't believe we ran away." 
All at once, realization hit you: you had just clocked a guy, and then ran away, without even thinking twice. Never in your life had you done something like that. You weren't super confrontational, and you certainly would rather avoid physical altercations. But, at that moment, you had just done it. And, the crazy thing about it was how amusing you found it. Because even though you were struggling to breathe, you were laughing. The kind of laugh where you couldn't stop, and your eyes would start to tear up. 
From where he was standing at your side, Jean watched for a moment, a certain fluttering in his chest (though he could pass it off as his own endeavors with taking in air). You, for the first time that he had seen, were so laid back about the fact that you had hit someone. And the way that you were now chuckling to yourself, clearly in a sort of disbelief mixed with content. 
Jean drew your attention, "Is it bad that I kind of liked seeing you hit him?" Then he paused, as if he had rethought his choice of words. "I mean, in the sense that Floch is a stuck up, entitled bastard, and that he had it coming." 
You gave a little huff, and shrugged. "Well, I'm sure anyone would pay to see that…I honestly didn't know that I was going to hit him…until right after." 
"Well, that was amazing! That guy's been a tyrant since the beginning of the year! He even tries to get in with Eren's group, as if he was even worth being someone to talk to." Connie clapped a hand on your back, his adrenaline still running through him. 
"And I thought that Jean was the one to start fights," Sasha teased.
"Sasha! I don't start fights!" 
Around you, the three continued to talk while you watched, enjoying the sight.  
It was rather nice, for once. You weren't holed up in your dorm room while everyone else had fun, even if the fun was getting into a fight of sorts—which, as you thought back on it, the whole thing was kind of funny. It would have easily been solved if those assholes had just apologized, but you were starting to think that this outcome was better. 
“Hey, should we go back for our things?” Jean asked, pulling your attention to him.
“Yeah, probably, and if those assholes are still there, I think we know someone who can take them on for us.” Connie sent a lopsided grin your way, a certain mischievous look in his eyes.
You shrugged, acting as innocent as possible. “Oh yeah, you’d be the perfect guy for that, even with the serious height disadvantage.” 
Connie’s mouth dropped open, not quite expecting that kind of remark from you. As far as he knew, you were silent, hardworking, and the person who likes to keep to yourself. Even you were a little surprised, but, maybe after today’s events you could try out some new ways to enjoy your life a little more.
Once again, the four of you made your way back to the field, and as you did, you could see a familiar figure standing by your net, looking down at his phone. 
“Marco! You made it!” Connie shouted out, drawing your friend’s attention. “You missed all the action; it was insane!”
“Huh? Did I miss out on playing? And where were you guys?” 
As you approached, Sasha and Connie exploded into answers for his question. 
“You only missed a little of our game-”
“We had to run from Forrester and his braindead lackeys!”
“We’ve got our own Rocky! You should have seen the way they punched him! No hesitation at all!”
Slowly, Marco seemed to piece all of the information together, nodding as he thought it all over. His eyes looked at everyone one by one until he got to you. “You punched someone? The most I've ever seen from you was the time you swore at your computer when it crashed!”
A small and almost shy smile escaped you, “Well, to be fair he started it. I honestly didn’t even think about doing it; my hand moved on it’s own,”
He only shook his head, looking back around the group. “So, are we still playing?”
Jean shook his head. “Maybe we should head back to one of the dorms? Relax or play some games?”
“Oh! I’ve got some fun games!” Sasha chimed in, then paused. “But I’m kind of hungry, so maybe we could make some food, too!”
Once everyone agreed to the plan, the now five of you ended up in the dorm you shared with Marco and Sasha, where Connie, Sasha and Marco focused on setting up some games in the little living room area, and you and Jean were tasked with making some dinner. Of course, it wasn’t exactly easy, given the few options, but eventually, the two of you were able to settle on a college delicacy: instant ramen. 
You pulled out a pot to fill with water, while Jean opened a few packs of said ramen. All in all, it was easy to make, and didn’t take terribly long. Before you knew it, you were handing out bowls to the other three while Jean brought over yours and his to where you were now sitting on the floor, some game cards in front of you. 
“Okay, listen up, I’m not explaining this twice,” Connie announced. “The game is simple: read a card to yourself and then say someones name who you think matches the card. You flip a coin. If it’s heads, you tell everyone what was on the card and give that person the card. If it’s tails, you keep it to yourself, and the card is yours.” Connie gave everyone a pointed look, and when no questions or objections were raised, the game started.
The first to go is Marco; he took a moment to read his card before immediately calling out Connie’s name. Then when the coin was flipped, it landed on heads, earning a small sigh from Marco. 
“It asked who would be the one to need parental supervision no matter what age someone is,” Marco explained.
“What? Why not Sasha?! She gets into more trouble than I do!” 
“Hah! Say that to Professor Levi and all the times he has had to tell you to shut up,” Jean remarked “And not to mention you black out at every party you go to. Do you know how many times I have to carry you home while you sing at the top of your lungs?”
Connie grumbled a bit, but didn’t try to deny the claims. Instead, he pulled out a card to read. His turn ended with a flip of tails, making it now your turn. 
From the main deck, you pulled your card and read it over silently: ‘Out of everyone in the group, who would you rather make out with?’
You can feel your face heat up, already knowing that you only really have two options, Jean or Marco. And Marco is only really a choice because of how well you know him, but even then, you wouldn’t really want to do that with him. So after a few moments of silence, you call Jean’s name, looking anywhere but at his face. 
“That took you some time; must be a good card.” Sasha grinned, reaching for the coin and giving it an impressive flip. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as it landed, and all at once, five heads stuck together to see the outcome.
Heads. The worst possible way for things to go. You could feel all eyes on you now, and you begrudgingly read out the card, once again avoiding looking at Jean entirely. 
A chorus of ooo’s and ahh’s filled your ears, and everyone had something to say about your answer. 
The only one you even managed to hear was the man himself: “I hope you plan to take me out first, I’m not won over so easily." Of course, he had a cocky smirk on his face, pointed directly at you. 
“Whatever, just…whoever is next, take your turn.” You shook your head, busying yourself with eating some of your food that was now starting to get a little cold. 
Time seemed to escape you all and the night drew to a close with Connie and Jean taking their leave. Marco took the time to wash the dishes, roping Sasha into helping, and you retired to your room. You took the time to change into some comfier clothes and settle into your bed, though not quite wanting to sleep just yet. 
Your mind was still stuck on the first game you played and the card you had picked Jean for. While you wouldn’t argue against the idea of finding Jean attractive, or even the idea of kissing him, you just weren’t sure why you were so trapped in thinking about it. You didn’t even know him all that well, and for the most part, you had thought that he was pretty unbearable. 
And yet, the more your thoughts seemed to revolve around him, the more you could feel an uneasy knot forming in your stomach. There was no way that you were going to let yourself get wrapped up in developing feelings for him, or anyone. You were supposed to be focusing on school so that you could get the hell out of this town and make something of yourself.
Not to mention the fact that all of your previous attempts at relationships crashed and burned. The last time that you had gotten close with someone in that way, you ended up with a mixture of being heartbroken and incredibly angry. That was about the time you started keeping to yourself, as if getting to know someone in a more than platonic way would cause your world to shatter again. You couldn’t-no /wouldn’t/ deal with something like that again. 
You let out a groan, planting face first into your pillow and trying to shoo away all thoughts related to romance and feelings, and of Jean Kirstein. 
“Suffocating yourself?” 
You jumped lightly, head snapping up to see Marco in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His expression was a little hard to read, though he could be like that at times. 
“Uh…no, not quite what I’m going for, but if it gets the job done, then sure,” you joked.
He moved across the room to his own bed where he took a seat, facing you. “Then what’s with the face-in-pillow tactic?”
You hesitated, knowing full and well how close Marco was with Jean, closer than he was with you. “Oh, uh, just, school things, homework, assignments, that sort of thing…”
His eyes narrowed slightly, brows furrowing. “Yeah, for once I don’t buy that, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you to spill the details."
Again, you paused, turning away from Marco and looking towards the door. In truth, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, since he wouldn’t ever tell a secret that wasn’t his. He was definitely the guy who would just want to talk things out, not wanting things to end badly. 
“Okay…Well…that card I got earlier,” you began. “I’m just worried, and I know that it’s just a stupid game, but I cant help but think about it.”
“Worried that Jean took it the wrong way, or worried that you’d actually want to kiss him?”
Marco was somehow always hitting the nail on the head, a talent of his. 
“Would saying both make sense?”
He thought for a moment, the room filling with an unnamable silence, until he spoke again. “Well, I’m sure Jean is going to take it in the way he always does: an ego boost for his way too big head.” Another pause. “As for the idea of maybe wanting to kiss him, I wouldn’t say that's an all too terrible idea, besides the fact that it’s Jean. But, if you really aren't sure about how you feel towards him, maybe you could…test it out?"
“Test it out?” you repeated, confused.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Like ask him to hang out or something. You don’t have to necessarily make it like a date, but you could use the time to get to know him more, and figure out if it’s just because everyone made a big deal out of it, or if you might actually be interested in him, or getting to know him.”
You thought for a moment. The idea was pretty simple, and a good one at that, though just thinking about it made your heart rate speed up. It wasn’t like you had never been one on one with Jean, but now, with all of your thoughts being scrambled like eggs, it was slightly overwhelming. But when it came down to it, you wanted to sort it all out. If you could set your mind straight, and get rid of these terrible thoughts about Jean, you could get back on track for school.
“You’re right, I’ll definitely try that.” You let out a small breath of air and turned back to Marco. “Thanks, I’m glad you’re here.”
“What would you do without me? And don’t worry— I won’t say anything to anyone. my lips are sealed” He smiled, hand coming up to his mouth to mime a zipper motion.
“Okay, good. Unless you want to end up like the douche from earlier, I wouldn’t recommend telling a soul.” 
He gave a laugh before gathering some of his things to go and take a shower, leaving you alone once more. You eventually drifted off to sleep, and surprisingly, you didn’t wake up once.
The next day, you only had one class, and once that was over, you had gone to the library to study, needing to get work done for a few of your other classes. It was a nice change in pace from the day you had yesterday. It wasn’t super crowded, either, which meant you could focus on your work in peace. 
Though, it didn’t last long, as two new faces joined your table. You looked up, almost expecting to see Jean and Connie, or Marco and Sasha, but to your surprise, it was Eren and Armin. 
“I hope you don’t mind us joining you!” Armin smiles, though something in his eyes tells you that he didn’t pick your table without a reason. 
“Uh, no that’s okay.” 
He and Eren settled into two of the chairs, the latter of the two only pulling out his phone. Armin did the exact opposite. He took out two textbooks, a large notebook, and a handful of pens, pencils and markers. 
For the first five minutes or so, the three of you sat in silence. You worked on homework for a communications class, while armin was seemingly working on a paper for a psyche class. But when Eren suddenly scoffed at his phone, you stopped what you were doing to look up at him, questioning his action. 
He in turn looked at you, maybe even through you. “So, turns out, someone gave Forrester a nasty bruise yesterday. He wont say who, so i’m thinking he got his ass kicked and just doesn’t want to admit it.” 
You feigned ignorance, giving Eren a blank stare, “I’m not really sure who that is, but sounds like a tough time for him.”
Eren regarded you for a moment, but it wasn’t his stare that bothered you. You now had Armin’s attention, as if he wanted to ask a question. Or, make a comment on what you said. But instead he said, “Well, I’m not the one to really get into these things, but Floch does like to cause problems for himself, so maybe he deserved it?” 
You nodded along, not wanting to give Eren any more information. With him, rumors tended to get out of hand quickly, and you really did not want to be the talk of the school over an altercation with Floch. To everyone in the school, you were pretty much some nobody, and frankly, you weren’t upset at the idea. If it meant less trouble for you, it was going to be something you’d stay okay with.
“Well he’s been bitching about it all day. It’s starting to get on my nerves.” Eren flipped his phone over, leaning back in his chair as he did. 
“Does he expect you to do something about it?” You asked, still trying to keep a low profile, while also trying to pry more information out of him.
“I’m sure thats what he wants, but I’m not going to help him with that, Floch can fight his own battles.”
A thick silence descended over your table. You took it as a sign that you could continue working on your homework. The one for your comms class wasn’t due until tomorrow, but you really wanted to finish it. 
This had always really been how you did things. You tried to finish things early, study as soon as possible, take as much time to get your work done as possible. And you weren’t the only one. Armin had also gone back to his work, and though you weren’t sure when it was due for him, but it wouldn’t be surprising if it was due at the end of the week or so.
You weren’t all that close with Armin, but the two of you had taken the time to study with eachother for the one class that you did share, and you had even reached out once to ask if he would tutor you for a few sessions, needing help with your math at the time. It was a nice thought to know that you weren’t the only student to stray from the eyes of their peers.
Though he had a harder time with it, being best friends with Eren and all. Not to mention he was also friends with Mikasa Ackerman, who was arguably the girl who drew most people’s attention. 
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you felt your phone buzz. You picked it up from the table, squinting your eyes at the bright screen. It was Jean.
“Hey, why are you with Armin, and that idiot.”
At this, you paused, looking around the library, not seeing Jean. 
“Where are you?” you replied.
After a minute or two, your phone buzzed again.
“Come and find me.” 
And that was it. He didn’t send any other messages, even after you sent him two more, questioning him again. You frowned, then looked to your things. You had been working for awhile, so getting up and moving might not be the worst thing. You proceeded to pack everything that you had pulled out earlier, and stood from your chair, looking to the other two.
“I think I’m going to head out. Let’s meet up again later in the week to work on Professor Hange’s assignment.”
Armin glanced up, and smiled, “Okay! How about Thursday? I can show you what all I’ve finished!”
“Sounds good.” You gave a short wave, and turned away from the table, scanning the surrounding areas before setting off in a random direction. 
There were a few more tables behind some of the bookshelves, but none of the students sitting at them were Jean. You checked out the library’s computer section next, and kept looking until you ended up near Armin and Eren again. Another frown crossed your face, until you heard a muffled laugh. 
With the new hint, you looked upwards to the second floor. And there he was, leaning against the railing, smirking down at you. You felt your face heat up in what you were going to call embarrassment, and definitely not any other word that had to do with your complicated thoughts on him, and how from where you stood, he looked almost handsome. 
You sent a halfhearted glare his way and headed up the stairs, making your way over to him, about to comment on his antics, but you weren’t able to get a word out before he could make fun of you. 
“You looked really dumb running around trying to find me.”
You gave an astonished laugh, “Yeah, well you sounded like a complete stalker just now.”
“And you still came to find me. I’m starting to think you like me more than you let on.” 
The unsettling feeling returned to your stomach at his words, though you weren’t surprised that he was poking fun at you after yesterdays game. “In your dreams.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ease the increasing amount of uneasiness that was slowly taking ahold of you. 
“Hm, I guess that’s true. Does that mean you want me to dream about it?” He looked at you contently, despite all of what he said being the brashest thing you had heard from him yet.
You didn’t say anything to that, instead you changed the subject quickly. “To answer your question about who I was with, I actually didn’t plan on sitting with them. Armin and Eren joined me.”
He gave a slow nod, and peered back at the table down below, where the two were still sitting, “Do you think I could spit on Eren from here?”
“No, and I dont think you should even try.” 
“Buzzkill.”
You scoffed, “I am not a buzzkill. You are just in the middle of some pointless battle of being better than each other.”
Jean looked back to you, staring at you for a moment. Then back down at Eren. “I just don’t get what everyone sees in that guy. He’s clearly an egotistical bastard with no regards to anyone else.”
“Do you think that you guys have anything in common in the fact that you both have ridiculously large egos?”
“Don’t lump me in with him.” This he said more seriously, “Anyways, enough about him, do you want to go do something?”
“Like what?”
He shrugged, and started for the stairs. You followed him wordlessly, and the two of you left the library, now back outside where a light breeze met you. The silence continued to hang over you two as you walked aimlessly in a random direction. You couldn’t tell if he was still thinking about your comment on him and Eren, or something else completely. You decided against asking him about it, and instead found a different topic. 
“Hey so, I found this art exhibit at the museum, it’s about the book Hange assigned us. I was thinking that we could go and check it out and see if we can find anything useful?”
He thought for a moment, eyes wandering the path ahead. “Okay, it doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend an afternoon.”
“Would eleven in the morning on Friday or Saturday be okay?”
“Friday works better for me, I think I’ve got plans with Connie on Satuday.” 
“Okay, Friday it is.” You paused, a smile slowly making it’s way onto your face, “Just make sure to be on time. I wont wait for you this time.”
“Hey! I already apologized for that.” He stopped in place, giving you a pointed look.
You stopped a few feet in front of him, shrugging as you continued to speak, “I need to cover all the bases. I am not going to wait around for you, just for you to tell me that you were hungover.”
“I am not going to be hungover again. I’m not going to make you wait, I swear.”
“You better not, I won’t be as forgiving this time.” You go to move past him, elbowing him as you do. 
He turns on his heel to catch up with you, giving you a slight push at the same time, “You were hardly forgiving last time. You were mad the entire time we were working on the assignment,” Jean pauses, taking a moment to look at the path that you had set off on, “Wait, where are we even going?”
You glanced over to him, then back infront of you. “Well, I’ve done nothing but school work today, and you didn’t mention anything specific other than ‘go do something’ and last time you picked where we went, so now its my turn.”
“Are you going to tell me where we are heading at least?”
“No.” You smiled a little at the statement, remembering how you had done the same thing to him when he had asked about you caring so much about seeing the stars. Looking back over to Jean, who was staring straight ahead, you took a moment to really look at him.
He was pretty tall, and when he wasn’t smiling like some sort of evil bastard, he had a pretty nasty resting bitch face, a combination that probably scared anyone who didn’t know him. Though, you could say that despite all that, he had a few attractive features to him. When he was smiling, actually smiling that is, his eyes lit up. You hadn’t noticed it much before, but now when you thought back on the past few days of being around him, you could see the way his eyes would hold a certain softness.  And when he was thinking, he tended to frown, scrunching up his nose until he came to whatever conclusion he needed. And when the two of you were in the field the other evening, he had an almost blissful aura to him, as if he had no cares in the world, you wouldn't ever guess that he was someone who caused so much trouble. Honestly it was probably a good thing that he had a difficult personality. If his ego was bad now, you don't want to know what he'd be like if he knew all of this about himself.
You looked away before he could catch you staring, and before you gave yourself any more time to think about him, not wanting to let yourself actually fall for the guy. 
Instead you focused on finding your way to today's randomized destination. If you were being honest, you hadn't actually thought of somewhere to go, and frankly, with how little you actually went out, you didn't know too many spots around campus. Regardless, you continued to lead the way, until an idea formed in your head. 
Earlier in the year, you had gotten a tad bit lost while trying to find a class, and ended up on the edge of your campus, where you stumbled on an old tree. Aside from the size of the thing, it seemed completely normal. But when you had looked further at it, there was something of a hidey hole in its backside. Since discovering it, you had made countless trips to the tree, using it as a place to get away from the school. You definitely weren't the first person to discover it, but it seemed like no one else ever really visited the old thing. 
As you and Jean came upon the tree, he gave a low whistle, craning his head back to take in it's height, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you just took me to a make out spot," 
You threw a bewildered look at him, before shaking your head slowly, "Well, since you do know better, you should know that it's more likely that I've brought you to the best place on campus to hide a body."
He in turn shook his own head, "And here I thought we we're getting closer," 
"Closer to hiding your body?"
"Not quite what I was thinking…" he trailed off, taking a moment to circle around the tree, his hand trailing along the bark as he went, "so, what made you pick here? Other than premeditated murder."
As he came back around, you watched as he took the time to drop his bag at the ground by his feet, kneeling down next to it for a moment, searching its contents. 
"Hm, I'm not entirely sure. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who ever comes here anymore." You pause, eyeballing what Jean was now holding in his hands, "It's kind of like a secret hideout minus the secret part, since anyone can stumble on this old tree." 
"And yet you brought me here…I'm starting to worry about my wellbeing," he chuckles, then takes a seat a few feet away from the tree. 
In his hands, he held a sketchbook. It looked a good few years old, as loose pages stuck out here and there, and the sheets were starting to yellow along the edges. You watched on quietly, as he flipped open to one of the last few pages, pausing as he glanced back at the tree. 
After a few moments you moved to stand just behind him, looking down at the page, which now held some sketch lines, resembling the tree just ahead of you.
You kept quiet for a bit, watching him quietly. He was lighthanded, it was as if any stray line within the whole piece would fly off the page and into the world around you. 
"You know you can sit and watch me draw too, right?"
"Yeah, and sit next to you? No thanks." You moved away from him, a slight flustered tone in your voice as you realized just how long you had been observing him. 
Instead, you took a seat at the base of the tree, opening your own bag, pulling out some more of your homework. Between the two of you, the only noises were the sounds of pencil on paper, and the occasional shifting of branches in the wind. 
You weren't really sure just how long things stayed that way. The only thing that brought your mind back to reality was the feeling of being stared at. 
"Need something?" You asked, arching a quizzical eyebrow in Jean's direction.
He shook his head, closing his sketchbook quietly, "Not at all. I was just wondering how much homework you were going to do before you got bored of being such a studious person." 
You scoffed at him. He was teasing you for this again? 
"Well, unlike some people, I need to pass all my classes so I can get the hell out of here." 
"You hate it here that much?" 
You paused, a lump forming in your throat. How were you even supposed to answer that question? All in all, this small town was horrible, and had been that way your entire life. Growing up you didn't have very many friends, and your family was fairly distant to you. You had shouldered all of your problems and responsibilities by yourself. Even now, in your college years it was hard to shake the feeling that you were still alone. 
You drew in a breath. "Sometimes, I sit by myself at my desk, and just stare at one of my notebooks until all the lines blur together. And then I realize that I'm crying. But what's funny about that is, I never know why I'm crying. " you start, bringing your eyes to his, "I never have the words to describe what i'm feeling in those moments. It's the same with how I feel about this place. I really don't know if I hate it, or if I'm just…projecting something else onto it." 
Jean stills with the information, until he takes a long breath in, "Art isn't much of a passion for me, as much as it is a hobby. I can't tell you how many half finished sketches I have. Sometimes I feel like I just don't have it in me to finish them, as if I'm scared of not knowing what I'm going to do next." 
He isn't talking about art. You know this from the way that Jean looks at you, not with pity, but with a hint of understanding. 
It was silent once again. Your brain turned over and over as you repeated his words in your head. Slowly, a wistful smile spread across your face. 
"You know Jean, you're not so bad after all." 
He stands up, shaking his head as he does, and makes his way over to you, holding out a hand for you to take, "I have my moments, I can't always be the charming asshole everyone says I am."
You hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to his hand. Slender fingers and a wide palm, his hand looked soft, and the thought of holding it, even just for a moment, would be comforting. You took his hand, averting your gaze as he helped you to your feet. 
"I'm sure everyone leaves out the 'charming' part."
"That's where you're wrong, everyone thinks I'm charming."
"Everyone but me that is," you chirp back, letting your hands fall to your sides.
"You dont think I'm charming?" 
The churning sensation is back. You /wanted/ to say no, to tell him that he was annoying, loud-mouthed, and a pain in the ass, but somewhere in the time you'd known him, he had become annoyingly endearing, loudly funny, and a pain in the ass to ignore the thumping in your chest. 
"I can't say charming is the word I'd use to describe you. Horribly pleasant maybe, but not charming."
At this he smirks, starting to walk backwards away from you, "Oh so you think I'm pleasant? Hopefully in the way that I'm nice to look at." 
"You missed the word horrible," 
He waved off your comment, instead placing one hand on his chest, right over his heart, while reaching out the other hand towards you, "and yet, if I asked you to join me to a delicious five star dinner at my dorm, you'd still say yes." 
You could feel your face flush, knowing that he didn't mean anything more than just to hang out for a little bit longer, and not in some sort of lame date way, "I'd only come because it would be free food, even if the food is terrible. Like you." 
"So, that's a yes you'll be joining me for dinner? I've got…box mashed potatoes, frozen broccoli, and hopefully leftover seasoned chicken." 
You turned back to where you had left your things, a slightly messy sight. "Alright alright, I'll come, pick up your things and we can go." 
You knelt down next to your bag, trying to ignore the nervous shaking of your hands as you collected your things. Your mind raced with warring thoughts. How did this happen? How was it that Jean Kirstein of all people, had weaseled his way into being someone that you didn't fully hate? But, there was no way you were going to let him get in the way of school, and your plans to finally be free from this horrible town. But then part of you wondered, was it all one sided? Jean seemed to be the type to have all sorts of girls and guys fawning over him, even if he had only ever been open about one specific girl that he was interested in, which of course had been Mikasa. But you couldn't even blame him, she was out of everyone's league. How she seemed to be completely and obviously in love with Eren Jeager of all people was a mystery to you. 
"Hey, are you listening?" His voice stopped your thoughts in their tracks, as you hadn't even noticed that he had been speaking to you. 
"Now why would I be doing that?" You shouldered your bag, standing back up and facing him.
"We've been over this, because I'm charming- sorry, pleasant." 
"Again, you left out the horrible part." 
"I've got a feeling that you don't mean that, otherwise you'd just call me horrible." He turns halfway away from you, looking back to the general area of the school. 
You paused, walking up next to him, trying to ignore the fact that he was right, "You just have selective hearing." 
Jean eyed you while starting to head back to the dorms, a different and softer smile making its way onto his face, "Not when it comes to you." 
You nearly tripped over a stray rock, his words repeating in cycles in your head. You could only give him a glance, busying yourself with avoiding any other stones on the sidewalk. 
What did he mean by that? What did you want those words to mean? Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Marco. The feeling of your heart painfully pounding against your ribs surfaces. Your hands tremble ever so slightly while they grasp at the straps of your bag. Marco was right, and he hadn’t even said anything about you actually having feelings for Jean. 
As the thought hit, you spared another quick look towards him. He was looking at you. Careful eyes studying your demeanor. The way you walked. The way your eyes struggled to meet his. The way your mouth formed a tight line as you realized all of this was happening.
“Hey, if you really don’t want to try my cooking, you don��t have to come.” He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair for a moment. 
You looked away. You could turn him down, you could go home. It would be the easy way out. You could ignore any of his future attempts at hanging out. You could finish school and leave this place. Leave him and everyone else again. 
The thought of it made you shudder. In doing so, you would be condemning yourself to your worst self. Being alone. 
You looked back to Jean, his face morphed into one of concern, clearly puzzled as to why you were taking so long to answer. 
You were tired of being alone. Tired of pushing away your own happiness in pursuit of a future that wasn’t even set in stone. 
You flashed a smile his way, and waved off his words, “No way, you said it was a five star dinner. I can’t pass on that.”
He stared at you for a moment. Then, his confusion melted away, replaced by that famous cocky smile, “Okay good, I wasn’t sure what to do if you bailed on me.”
“Maybe you could have cooked for Connie too, light some candles, play some mood music, you know, make it all romantic for the two of you.” You chuckled, about to make another remark when Jean gave you a playful shove. 
“Why would you say that! I can’t have a romantic dinner with Connie of all people!” 
“Sure you can! It’s easy! Candles, music, food! All you need!” 
Jean groaned and shook his head. “You’re horrible.”
“Pleasant, actually.” You grinned. 
He hummed in response, and you could’ve swore you heard him mumble ‘horribly pleasant my ass’
His dorm room was warm, and set up similarly to yours. The same bland, small kitchen and the same questionable excuse for a couch just a few feet away. Three sets of doors that led to his roommates, and two bathrooms. 
One of the doors were open, and you caught a glimpse of Connie attempting to take mirror selfies. He would take one, bring the phone close to his face, frown and then try again. It wasn’t until his third or forth picture that he noticed you staring through the mirror. 
“Well if it isn’t our very own Rocky!” He grinned, hastily shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweats. 
“Hey Connie” you waved, then smirked a little, “I'm sure the ladies will love all of those selfies.” 
His face flushed slightly, and he stepped out of his small room, “For your information, the ladies already love seeing my handsome face. I was just taking a few more for-”
Jean cut him off, a bark of a laugh filling the room, “Like you can get a girl to think your ugly mug is anything worth looking at.” 
Connie gaped, “Dude, that’s just cold. I thought you liked my face.” 
You eyeballed the two, before turning to Jean and mouthing the words, ‘romantic dinner’ 
Jean glared halfheartedly, before a smile broke through, “and here I thought I was treating you to a five star, romantic dinner.” 
Connie was now the one looking between the two of you, unsure if Jean was being serious or not. You, on the other hand, could feel your face heat up. He had to be joking. Jean was making a joke based off of your joke. That was the only thing that would make sense at the moment. 
“Only if it involves candles and music.” You attempt to force your voice into sounding level, as if you weren’t sickeningly thrilled by the idea of your dinner with Jean being a little more than friendly. 
His head swivels around the room, scanning the small area before emitting a sigh of halfhearted defeat, “Might need a raincheck on that, I don't have any candles.” Jean pauses, thinking for a moment, “Unless you had your heart set on the romantic dinner with candles and music, maybe I can make something work.” He smirked in your direction, true to his usual cheeky self. 
You faced away from him, moving to set your backpack down on the floor by the door, “No candles, no deal.” You pause, practically feeling Connie’s wide eyed stare pointed at your back. 
“That’s not a no to having a more than friendly dinner, now is it?” Jean fires back, smiling in a not so innocent way. Your stomach twisted in knots. He wasn’t wrong. You had intentionally avoided his question, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of yet another person falling for his aggravating charm. 
You shrug a response, giving back another flippant response, “Sure, if it helps you sleep at night to think of it that way.” 
After a moment of silence, Connie’s voice fills the room. “Yeah so, I don’t really know whats going on here, but i’m gonna head out. Sasha is waiting for me with Marco.” He slides on a pair of shoes, grabs a bag and promptly leaves, but not before saying a goodbye, “See ya later Rocky, and Jean, I hope you choke on your food.”
To which, all Jean says is, “Yeah, whatever man.”
You watch him leave quietly, then turn back to face Jean, studying him for a moment. He hasn’t noticed your stares yet,  not when he’s busying himself with pulling out what he needed for this dinner supposedly high rated by Michelin themselves. 
Throughout the past year or so, you had noticed that when Jean was concentrating, he tended to screw up his face a little, eyebrows scrunched in, mouth quirked off to the side, usually whatever was in his hands was being toyed with. But right now, he was different. A content soft smile, and the look in his eyes was gentle. Fond. Domestic. 
“Do you need help with anything?” You asked, feeling the need to do something other than just stand around. 
Jean looked back up at you, bag of frozen broccoli in his hands. “Do you want to make the instant potatoes or the broccoli?” 
You walked to him, and grabbed the bag from him, “Where do you keep your pots and pans?”
“Planning on making this a fancy dinner?” He paused, taking a moment to grab out a small pot for you, and then a lid. “Are you steaming them?”
You set the bag down, then eyed the pot and lid, “Would you happen to have one of those steaming baskets? Or do I need to get creative?”
Jean smiled sheepishly, “I’ve got Connie for a roommate. If I was Niccolo I would definitely have one of those, therefore, you’ll have to get creative. But you’re pretty smart, so I believe in you.”
You nodded slowly. That made sense. Jean and Connie were in the same boat as Sasha, Marco and yourself. If you had done more planning for dinner you probably could have worked something else with Niccolo to borrow his cooking supplies. Though you were sure that the guy would say no, as he was pretty particular about his things. Oh well. You’d have to figure something else. 
The rest of the preparations went fine, and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting at a dingy table that each dorm room had, making small talk over left over chicken and mid-tier potatoes and broccoli. 
“Okay, so I’ll  bite. What’s your deal?” Jean asked suddenly, then his eyes went a little wide as he realized the wording of his question, “I mean! Uh…Well-”
You cut him off, easily able to tell what he meant, “Do you mean why do I have no life and only study and do my work alone?”
He melted under your gaze, before nodding slowly, “I meant it a little nicer though.”
“Its okay, I got what you meant…I think.” You set your fork down, suddenly scrutinizing a small crack in your plate. 
Jean cleared his throat a bit before speaking again, “It’s just that…you spend so much time studying, and it definitely pays off. I’ve heard from Sasha that you have really good grades. But…”
“But?”
“They worry about you. Sasha and Marco that is…and well, I kind of do too. At least, more now that I know you a little better.”
You don’t respond. He’s going somewhere with this. You can tell by the cadence of his voice, how he seems to be picking his words carefully.
“I think that even just in the past few days, you’ve opened  up a lot…I finally got to see you smile.” He paused, “I remember one time last year, in one of our shared classes, I went to see the professor, but you were already there, pleading with him for some extra credit. And when you came out, you look like you had been crying. The next day, I went out of my way to tell you a joke, hoping that maybe you’d smile.”
“I remember that. I told you that I was busy with a make up assignment and ignored you.” You hummed a little, thinking back to Jean back then. His hair was shorter, and he was even more obnoxious that he had been this year. It was one of the few times you had actually spoke to him at the time.
“So…I guess I was just wondering where all this pressure on you comes from?” He fidgets with something in his hands. Like when he’s focusing on his work. You’ve seen it countless times in the past, you just never thought about it until now.
With a sigh, you resign yourself to telling him a little bit about yourself, “I’ve lived here my whole life. And my whole life, I’ve basically been alone. Friends were hard to come by, especially after I decided that all I wanted to do was leave. So, with no one to hold me back, as long as I finish college strong, I can leave and go anywhere I want. I have to do this. Staying here is out of the question…” You trailed off, thinking about how you had never truly said these words out loud. 
“But?” He spoke softly, as if he could tell that you had been battling with yourself on what you truly wanted. He stared at you, not through you as most other people did. Your heart sped up. What were you supposed to say now? You had only started to question your aspirations because of him. And you absolutely would not be sharing that thought now. 
“But nothing. I meant what I said. I’m getting out of this hell and I’m not looking back. Ever.”  you spat the words out, a sudden low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. What were you doing? A small voice in the back of your head answered that question for you. The same one that you let control most of your college days. You were wasting time, you had assignments to do and a degree to work towards. 
You moved to stand suddenly. “I have to go…I forgot that I’m supposed to meet with Armin tomorrow. I should really make sure that I’m ready to show him my part..and yours too.” You grabbed your backpack, and escaping out into the hall. 
You stood there quietly, chest moving up and down as you took in harsh breaths,  not entirely sure why you did all of that. With a shake of your head you made the journey back to your own dorm, not bothering to take off your shoes at the door like you normally did, instead you merely trudged into your room, tossing your bag onto the ground by your desk, and finding a seat on the edge of your bed. 
“Are you okay?” Your freckled friend spoke up, nearly giving you a heart attack in the process. You hadn’t even noticed that he was home.
You didn’t answer. Instead, tears began to fill your eyes. He was by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around you carefully. Muffled sobs wracked your body. With each one Marco only hugged you a little tighter. He let you cry until you were done. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” The words fell from your lips, and you couldn’t stop what came after them, “This whole time i’ve had one goal; to graduate with soaring grades, and to leave. Make as few friends as possible so that way I wouldn’t get distracted…and so that leaving would be easier.” 
“What changed then?” Marco asked, his voice soft and careful. You got the feeling that he already knew the answer.
“Jean. Jean crashed into my life and ruined my plans. I haven’t even really known him that long and suddenly I’m throwing away school just to hang out with him. I haven’t been studying the same way I used to, instead I’m playing volleyball with him, and he’s holding my hand as we run away. I’m sitting with him by that old tree and thinking about him instead of the words on my papers. I’m cooking with him and thinking about how muchI want to do it all again.” Your words are quiet, but Marco hears them all the same.
“You do know that those don’t have to be bad things, right?” He lets you go, taking a moment to scoot away ever so slightly, making you look up at his face, where a small smile rests, “It’s been nice to see you let loose. And I know that you’ve been enjoying yourself.”
You attempt to frown, “Thats not true.” 
A beat passes and you speak again, “Okay. Maybe a little…but I-”
“No. No buts. You are the hardest working person I know. You are smart and you always apply yourself to your work. You are doing amazing. It’s time that you see that for yourself. You will finish school, and you will be able to go out into the world and do whatever you want to do, but that doesn’t mean you have to wait to have any of that fun. You deserve to enjoy your life, the one right now in the present that you are living, okay?”
His words played on repeat in your mind a few times, you tried to interalize them, make them into your own instead of letting that voice shoo them away. 
“Okay.” You nodded, then brought a hand up to your face, covering your mouth for a moment, “I left Jean.”
“What?”
“We were eating dinner and talking and then I got upset and I just…I just left. “
Marco pursed his lips, nodding slightly as he tried to imagine the scene. Jean sitting alone at his table, probably confused and wondering what he did wrong. “Well…theres only so much you can do about that, which I suggest texting him. Let him know that you’re alright, and just so that the poor guy doesn’t overthink, that he didn’t cause you to run off.”
You nodded, “Right. Okay. I can do that.”
It grew quiet between you and Marco, though it didn’t last very long. There was a light tone in his voice, one he used when he wanted to tease someone without making them aware of it, though you had learned to recognize it fairly well. 
“So, I’m assuming that you like Jean…at least a little bit.”
“Okay. Get off my bed. This moment is over.” You push him gently, facing away from Marco. 
“Are you going to tell him?”
“Oh would you look at the time? I should really head to bed, okay goodnight Marco, get off my bed.”
He laughed, and did as you said, letting you have the room so you could change, “goodnight lovebird.”
Ignoring him as best as you could, you changed quickly, and crawled right back into your bed, under the safety of your comforter.  Once there, you pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you brought up the chat with Jean.
You stared at it for a moment. The last messages were from earlier this day. He hadn’t said anything since then. 
Slowly you typed out an apology. “Hey Jean, I’m really sorry for just bailing earlier. Super not cool of me.”
You groaned at the words, quickly backspacing and starting again. “Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to just leave you there. I promise things are fine. It wasn’t you, or the food for that matter.” 
You hit send, not giving yourself time to overthink the text any longer. 
Fairly quick after your message had been sent, Jean had already replied. “Its okay! You had me worried for a minute there. Thought maybe the food tasted so bad that you just had to leave to get an actual five star dinner.”
He was being courteous. Trying to keep the conversation light as to not scare you off again. 
Your fingers flew across the keyboard once more, “Let me make it up to you. Friday, 11am, at the museum.”
“You really don’t have to make anything up to me, I get it.”
“Jean. Just let me feel bad and try to make it up. Or else I will think about this all night.”
His next message wasn’t exactly what you thought he’d say…or actually, it was exactly what he would say, “Oh, so if I don’t let you have your way, you will be up all night…thinking about me?”
“No.” You hit send. Then sent another message, “Ykw nevermind. I’m not sorry. Be on time friday or else.”
He was quick to shoot back another response, “Okay fine. Make it up to me.”
Then another message, “How do you plan on doing that anyways?”
“You’ll see. Be patient.”
It wasn’t long after that did you eventually fall asleep. The next day was pretty uneventful. Your meeting with Armin was fine, as the guy already had about half of the presentation outline done, and with all of the information and other necessary work that you had gathered, Armin would most likely have the whole thing done by the time he went to bed that night. 
The rest of the day passed quickly, almost too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, your alarm was going off, signalling that it was ten twenty-five in the morning. 
You had spent some time the day before thinking of how to make up for ditching Jean the other night, and finally settled on an idea. Said idea was currently sitting on your desk, inside a plastic bag. 
You gave it a quick look before climbing out of your bed, moving to your dresser to get ready for the day. 
You had just thrown on your shoes, sparing a glance at your phone to the time. It was eleven. You were going to be late. Of course after all that talk to Jean about being on time, you were going to be running behind this time. You could only imagine what he would have to say about it.
You hurriedly grabbed the bag from your desk, and shoved your phone into you pocket after sending yet another apology to Jean. 
The trip to the museum took about twenty minutes with public transport. It was eleven twenty-three and you had finally made it to the museum doors. 
Jean was standing just to the right of them, staring down at his phone, his back to you. You watched as he brought his phone to his ear, and smiled slightly as your phone buzzed in your pocket. 
You let it ring. Walking up and tapping his shoulder a few times. “Sorry I’m late.”
He spun around, eyes landing on your form. His mouth hung up for a moment before he hung up the phone call, “Is this to get back at me for the other day?”
“No…I just slept past my first alarm.”
“Oh so when you’re late its okay but when I’m late its the worst thing ever.”
You shrugged slightly, “I at least texted you in advance.” You paused, then remembered the bag you were holding, “Oh…um. I got you this. To make up for bailing.”
He eyed the bag suspiciously, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”
“I worried about it. Now just say thanks and take the bag from me.” You rushed the words out, holding it out to him, “No refunds so you have to keep it.”
His fingers deftly took the plastic handles from you, and reached inside the bag. You watched quietly as he lifted the gift out, eyes softening as he realized what it was. 
“You bought me a new sketchbook?” He hummed a little, looking at the cover for a few moments, “This is a really nice brand too. I’ve always wanted to try it out.”
“Your other one looked a little full the other day…so I figured I could afford a nice one to say that I’m sorry. “
Jean let the sketchbook slide back into the bag, “Well…thank you. I really appreciate this.” He toed something on the ground, eyes unable to find yours. 
You instead took this moment to find the exhibit tickets on your phone, nudging him slightly, “Let’s get going, there’s a couple of pieces I think we should look at specifically.”
Once inside, you took a few moments to study the map of the place, trying to figure out which hall you needed to go to, before Jean took your hand in his, face a little flushed as he did so. 
“I come here pretty often, most of the new exhibits are near the back on the first floor.” He said, pulling you along with him. 
It wasn’t too crowded, and as most museums were, it was quiet. A nice solitude for those who liked to hide away from the world, and find new ones in the art and historical pieces sheltered there.
When the both of you made it to the exhibit, you found that you were the only ones there. Meaning that you could stare at the art as long as you needed. Which you did. Slowly you let Jean’s hand slip from yours.
You hadn’t thought about seeing the art in real life, and how much it would effect you. Entrap you in every single paint stroke, every single carving of marble. It was beautiful. Clearly the story that was assigned to you had meant a lot the various artists. 
You found Jean staring at a drawing. It was mostly in charcoal, though some color had been added here and there, giving the piece whimsical dimension. It looked to be a tree. A large, barren tree in a valley of never ending sand. From the branches, blue and green spilled out across the paper, spanning what would be the sky. 
“You like this one?” You asked with a hush, not wanting to startle him. 
He nodded, “It’s simple, but I just know that the artist put a lot of work into it. Every line is purposeful. And we will never truly know what it means.” He responded, eyes traveling down to the plaque, where it read the piece’s title, “Paths.” With an unnamed author. 
You let him look at the drawing for as long as he needed. You wandered to a sculpture on display a few steps to the right. It seemed to be one of the titans depicted in the story. Creme colored marble in the form of a woman, skeletal mouth open in what the book claimed to be a war cry. There were ribs formed around her abdomen. Her hand outstretched towards the open air. From this perspective, despite the lack of facial features, the statue almost looked sad. A women with an extraordinary ability, forced to use it for harm, all because she was in love with the wrong person. At least, that’s what you wanted to think.  You were sure that others in your class thought the opposite. Which of course was exactly what your analysis was going to focus on. 
You studied it for a few more moments, before looking away, finding Jean now standing across the room, in front of another painting. You moved to stand next to him, looking at what held his attention.
It was of a starry night sky, bathed in dark blues and purples. Underneath, was a lone pig in a field, head faced towards the grass. 
“This is what started the book, right?” You asked, watching as he nodded once.
“But that’s not what i’m thinking about.”
“Then what’s going on in your mind?”
Jean looked back to you, smiling sideways, “Why did you wait the other night, at the field? I figured that you were waiting for a star, but why?”
You brought your eyes back to the painting, looking from the dark green grass, to the pig that was grazing on it peacefully, then to a star painted to be the brightest one there. 
“When I was younger, I used to stand outside, or at my window, and just wait. As soon as I saw the first star of the night, I made a wish on it.” You paused, thinking back on your childhood, “I used to wish for a friend, or someone more than that. I was pretty lonely as a kid. Eventually I started wishing for a future other than that…and then, I stopped wishing. I still would wait for the star, but I made sure that I wasn’t relying on a ball of gas in the sky to make my wishes come true.”
“I’d say that they came true then.” Jean turned his body to face yours, looking down towards you, some thought dancing in his eyes.
You mimicked his motion, allowing yourself to face him fully, “And what makes you say that?”
“You’ve made two whole friends.” 
“I’ve made three.” You corrected him softly, thinking back to your first conversation about it with him, “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot.” You state matter of factly.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “And the third? Don’t tell me it’s Floch…or even worse, Eren.”
“Mmm close. It’s you.” 
He places a hand to his heart, dramatic words escaping him, “How long have I waited for you to realize that you and I are friends.”
“You’re still horribly pleasant.” You remark, shaking your head, “Maybe I should take it back about being friends.”
“Too late, you already said it. No refunds.” He drew closer to you, enough to where you could feel his warmth. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Isn’t that technically already a question?” You pause, then nod to him, “But, yeah, go for it.”
“When you graduate, and leave this town. Will you forget about your friends?”
You hesitate. You knew that he wasn’t really asking about Marco or Sasha. You can feel your stomach flip over a few times, that annoying feeling of nervousness that came whenever you thought about Jean.
“No. I wont. How could I?” Your words seem to have some sort of effect on Jean, as he dodesn’t speak. You continue, trying to pick your words carefully, “When it comes to you, specifically you…I would have one hell of a time forgetting you, Jean.”
“I am pretty cool…” He mumbles, then swallows his pride, “But, what if I don’t want you to remember me?” 
You tilt your head to the side, giving him a confused look, but still allowing him to continue.
“I just mean…what if I want to be remembered as not just a friend. As more than that?” 
He locks eyes with you, his face serious as he waits for you to say something, to say anything really. 
You swear that your heart stops beating altogether. It wasn’t one sided. You thought back to your conversation with Marco from two nights before. You deserved this. Deserved to enjoy yourself. To let yourself live a little. 
“I think i’d like that.” You smile warmly, “Because I like you Jean. I tried really hard not to, but I do. And maybe, just maybe I don’t want to look back on college and only remember you as a friend.” You pause, taking in a small breath and willed yourself to finish your thought, “Maybe, after I graduate, we both can look back on the time. Together.”
“So, you don’t want to skip town and never look back?” he asks
“Skip town? Still do, but I can’t afford to ignore my time here.” 
“What if I came with you when you leave.” it’s less of a question, and more of an idea.
“Let’s just get to graduation first, Jean.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding as he does, “Got ahead of myself there. But I have one more question.”
You study him for a moment, just as you had been studying the rest of the art in the museum. “You know, you were only supposed to ask one question anyways.”
“Last one, I promise.” 
“Okay, okay, what is it?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You’re suddenly all too aware of the small gap in your bodies, and his baited breath, and the sensation in your stomach that feels less like churning water and more like butterflies floating around blooming flowers. You hardly hear yourself tell him yes. 
The stiffness leaves Jean’s body, and he brings his hand free from the plastic bag up to your face, cupping your cheek lightly. His hand is warm, but not as warm as your flushed face is. His thumb moves back and forth slightly as he pulls you to him. His lips are soft, and you can feel his lashes flutter against your cheek. You easily find it in you to move in sync with him, allowing yourself to lean into the kiss, a small smile finding its way onto your face. 
He lets you pull away first. And for a moment all the two of you can do is stand there. You’re sure that you could stand there all day with him. 
You let him speak first. 
“So, am I still horrible?”
“Horribly, yet pleasantly charming. Yes.”
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tsukkismoonlight · 4 months
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jean fic tonight anyone??
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tsukkismoonlight · 5 months
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screaming crying sobbing in the car rn this is all that i need in my life forever always did i say forever
Thank u sm im literally !!! ur writing style is so cute and just the ?? visual style is just so !!! usbeke thank you <3
— match-up trade: jjk.
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for @tsukkismoonlight › match-up trades › hello, thank you for doing this exchange with me! i had a lot of fun writing this. i hope you'll like it 🥺
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your match: gojō satoru.
competitive streaks reaching into the quiet depths of night. holding your breaths captive at the reveal of the new fragment in the game's lore. being rendered incapable of laying close to one another because the cat decided to claim ownership of the space between the two of you. buying sweets and souvenirs at the new stand that spawned itself by some alleyway. having the corner of your mouth wiped clean with a single brush of a calloused thumb. bursting with colour and looking out of place together, unconventional and bold, demanding gazes to stick to you like burdock. ruined sleep schedules and baking chocolate-chip cookies in the hours past midnight. playlists made for long drives. shameless laughing to the point your spine bends, knees give up and wall of your stomach aches. polaroid selfies taken in the right moments, lined up on a string as looming, wondrous reminders of good times.
your match is gojō satoru; the greatest, the strongest. the one that had changed the flow amongst the dimensions. there is a matching of bright, outgoing and outstanding energies that leaves a pleasant aftertaste in one's mouth. the two of you are a smiling pair; two rays sticking together in the blurry picture of the sun.
satoru has his fair share of oddness, but adores the touch of simplicity that there is to you in comparison to him. it isn't that he associates you with the lack of complexity — it's that he absolutely relishes in the teasing your kitten with a feather on string and flashing you a cheeky grin when he notices you are observing the scene. it's the small things he enjoys, like watching you get frustrated over that one layer only to make your drawing all the better just several minutes later. there is something about the 'mundane' that makes it all worth the fight he puts up.
he can match your energy, and he adores the vibrant boldness of your make-up. satoru has thick skin and rather than be insulted by any of your sarcasm, he would simply mirror you in that regard. he complains that you don't pay attention to what he's saying, but the way a smile tugs at the corner of his lip gives away that he is simply doing so to push your buttons just enough. a little out of line in his own way, he might need to be kept in check at times so as not to step over the boundaries; you can find him with his hand on your shoulder, watching you draw and asking if he could get a portrait — straight up maniacal. tell him off sometimes, he won't mind.
gojō satoru is similar to you in the plethora of ways that could serve as a fine line for bonding; giving in to that nap is something he won't fight and spending time together equals to fun experiences. competition whilst playing video games is a given and this relationships brims with child-like joy. however, at the same time, satoru is firm enough to draw boundaries and motivate you towards further growth and development, too. not everything is fun and games, and he remains present throughout all of it, making it the right amount of bearable.
he can be your number one supporter and the line you dial even if he has tendencies to be all over the place and ever-so-slightly unreliable, and in return, treat him to some sweet you baked as an unspoken 'i love you'. he will boast about it to others all day long.
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other matches: nanami kento. ino takuma.
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thank you for reading! — kamesama.
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tsukkismoonlight · 5 months
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traditional match up || trade with @kamesama
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•Geto Suguru is not normally a coffee kind of guy, he’d much rather a comforting cup of tea, one that warms his fingers as he holds the cup, allowing him to focus on whatever current situation is plaguing him on the forefront of his mind
•However, you were so adamant on him trying something new, practically forcing his hand and his mouth to speak the words of ordering an iced coffee.
•You said something about your morning routine, and a local coffee shop, one of those cute locally owned shops, where they sell little trinkets and stickers that are displayed just off to the side of a rickety register
•Geto Suguru is a very well mannered man, he’s polite to service workers, and would stop to help an old lady across the street. At least, that’s what he tells other people to say about him.
•You know better however. Geto is a charmer, a smile that is easy on the eyes and a voice that could make a cold heart flutter with the right words. He knows how to push people’s buttons in ways that they didn’t think possible. Geto can talk circles around just about anyone.
•You never let him get to you, not in the ways most people did. You set boundaries, told him off one too many times, and easily gave the same energy back to him that he had tried to give to you, but you still spent so much time with him.
•Geto Suguru isn’t one for flighty romance, he’d much rather settle down and live a comfortable life with someone he truly trusts, someone who finds him reliable, and who accepts hard truths when he has to tell them.
•You easily had him wrapped around your finger, most people either brushed off his socially abrasive behaviors, or they went out of their way to avoid him. Most people weren’t you. He loves your attention, trying to take as much as he can from you, slowly but surely trying to reel you in and see what lies behind the facade that you may or may not have.
•He doesn’t mind the occasional blunt comment, or the impatience usually caused by his own words and actions. He chooses to focus on your diligence, the way you organize your surroundings and mind. He watches you put yourself first, focusing on improvement and your own personal goals. Geto wants to do those things with you, he wants to see what you’d make of life doing things in a blend of your ways and his ways.
•Suguru is not the kind of man to jump into something so fast, no, he wants to entice you, make sure that you know exactly what you’re getting into. He’ll adapt to the things you like, reading during a thunderstorm, admiring photographs by people he’s never heard of, anything to be more akin to you.
•So of course, when you asked him to join you in your morning, sitting across from each other in the corner of a small and sleepy coffee shop, he couldn’t say no. Not when you had practically forced his hand and heart into developing romantic feelings. You and your captivating aura forced his hand.
•At least, thats what he tells himself.
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+bonus lock screens that i couldn’t figure out which one i liked more
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tsukkismoonlight · 5 months
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Early Birthday post for Gojo 💖 I’m too impatient
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tsukkismoonlight · 5 months
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the sky is fading as the night draws near. The soft purple hues melt away into a deep and dark blue. Stars start to peek out from half formed clouds, and the moon watches down on you fondly, and you seem to hear a familiar name…
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Hakkai Shiba
-Hakki is the kind of guy who is hard to read, everyone knows that
-He generally takes a while before he opens up to people, so for the most part, everyone just thinks that he is a quiet guy
-so in your case, Hakkai wasn’t exactly someone you thought you’d be super close with, as both of you tend to be a bit introverted
-but as you spent more time with Toman, you found yourself around him more
-you two shared a lot of quiet moments together, walking side by side, waiting to be dismissed from a meeting, or even just sitting next to each other at a cafe watching as the usual Toman trouble makers cause chaos
-eventually you two warmed up to each other enough to spend time together without everyone else, and boy was that something
-a lot of the times, you and Hakkai stay in, listening to music while one of you reads and the other scrolls through their phone
-your favorite moment was most likely when you introduced Hakkai to the FNAF game (this is my timeline now, fnaf exists in tokyo rev now thank you anyways)
-Hakkai is not very fond of jumpscares, but watching him focus, brows furrowed as his eyes dart back and forth over the screen, and watching him pull away from the screen as one of the animatronics pops out at him
-“you think this is funny?!” He would say as your laptop shows a dismal message of defeat, “how can anyone like this sort of thing?!”
-you'd only reply with a chuckle and tell him that its all about the story that lies behind the game.
-since that night the two of you are practically inseparable, where you go, Hakkai goes
-he doesn’t care when you act a little childish as he finds it nice to not be so serious all the time, and as much as he protests he loves when you tease him and flirt playfully (he would be absolutely red in the face and stuttering every time you did)
-he’s probably the only person you let be around you when you’re upset, and he knows exactly what you need in order to help you
-when it comes to being together, in a more romantic sense, Hakkai would want to make sure that it’s something you want (he would ask over and over again, at least twice a week)
-he would brush his hand on yours when you’re walking and eventually twine your fingers together
-he would love hugs, especially when he comes up behind you gently, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to his chest
-he would want to treat you to any and all of your favorite things, you notice something in the window of a shop? He goes back to buy it for you later.
-anyways i feel like i could keep going but i feel like i'm rambling please feel free to let me know what you think !!!
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Lockscreens/homescreens (i made a couple because i wasnt sure i liked them but i actually love the last one!!)
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Matchup for @grellsglasses
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tsukkismoonlight · 5 months
Note
Hey, just wanted to ask if your match ups are open? :)
Hi hi ! If you’re asking about this one , then yes! I think i got through all of them when I originally posted, so they should be open! I do need to check my ask box to be sure but im going with yes!
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tsukkismoonlight · 8 months
Text
Together Again || U.W x reader
Summary: It's been two years since you’ve last seen your childhood friend. Busy with his career in volleyball, and your own college life, you’ve certainly missed being home. It was easy to forget the comfort of your family’s home cooked meals, and their secure hugs. Summer break just as easily brings it all back, including the way you had forgotten your true feelings for the boy next door. An old summer tradition from your young days brings you back together, and you hope that it stays that way.
Wc: 8.3k
Gn! Reader
A/n: Long time no see! I hope everyone has been well! A while back I joined the For the Summer (and Forever more) collab that @auraxins was running, and of course I got busy with work and life, but I am posting this just in time! A little fic about childhood friends and nostalgia mixed with a couple of overused tropes (that i love) please feel free to let me know what you thought about the fic, as i'm pretty excited to be posting something, and this one i'm particularly proud of! Also, this is most certainly inspired by @gb-patch ‘s Our Life, so if you haven’t checked it out before, be sure to take a look at the game!
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The night air is warm, settling heavily in your chest with each breath in. The grass beneath your legs seems to both tickle and itch at the same time, a sensation that you’re not sure if it bothers you or not.
“Why are you out here by yourself?” a sudden voice comes behind you.
You startle easily. This is no exception. You quickly shoot to your feet, your eight year old self has no problem with that yet. No sore muscles or tired mindset to hold you back.
Turning to face the stranger, you find that it's a kid about your age. In the dim lighting you can't tell if his hair is a dark brown, or just black. “Uh, I’m waiting for the fireflies. They always come out this time of the year.”
He studies you for a moment, young eyes seemingly scrutinizing your appearance. Your knee has a newly healing scrape, not yet bandaged by your family. You are sure that your pale shirt has a grass stain from your tumble earlier, and you wouldn’t be surprised if your hair was unruly.
“Cool.” Is his only word. It’s hard to tell if the kid means it, by the way he stares so blankly at you.
You tear your eyes away from him, taking interest in the patch of grass under your scuffed up shoes. It's quiet once more, and yet neither of you make any moves.
Finally after what feels like an eternity, you give a small sigh. Maybe you could share your summer tradition with the boy. The one you always partook in alone, a special annual celebration of your own doing that meant the world to your eight year old self.
“Want to catch them with me?”
At this, the boy’s eyes seemed to widen some, and he gave a silent but firm nod. He moved to stand closer to you, not quite next to you, but near you.
Together, you held your breath, eyes scanning across the field as you both ached to catch a glimpse of a neon bug.
After a few mere moments, one caught your eye, just to the left of the kid, floating lazily through the air. You silently brought your hand up to point at it, starting to excitedly bob up and down on your toes.
The boy moved towards it quickly, hands outstretched as he attempted to catch it. Before he got close enough, it’s light dimmed and it disappeared into the night. He stilled, turning back to face you with golden eyes, “It was too fast…”
You laughed at him, cutting yourself off before he thought you were making fun of him, “You have to go slow! And be more careful!” You paused, thinking of a way to make it sound easier, “Like…a spy! One on a super secret mission!”
For a moment, all the boy did was stare at you, and then, he surprised you.
The boy cracked a small smile, and held a hand out to you, his left hand, “Let’s be spies then, we can pretend to need the fireflies to…to save the world.”
“Team Firefly ! That can be us!” You grin eagerly, before turning to face the rest of the grassy field, “Let’s get to work!”
Together, the two of you ran through the uneven grass, hands outstretched towards the tiny glowing bugs, pausing only when you had one to show, repeating the actions until your names had been called for the night.
Time seemed to pass quickly the rest of that summer, maybe due to having a new friend, maybe not. In fact, time seemed to pass quickly over the next few years, so much so that you were now about twenty-two, and getting ready to head back home.
“So, what's your plan for the summer?”
You turn your head to look at one of your closest friends, dark eyes meeting yours for a second before looking out of the window of your now empty dorm room.
“Well, once I get back home, I want to try and catch some fireflies if they come back out this year.”
“You haven’t done that in awhile.”
His comment stills you, a low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. Spending time away from home was hard, and missing out on your favorite childhood activity only made it worse.
“Yeah, I guess that's true…”
He leans across a box labeled “books” lazily, humming to himself for a moment, “So, does that mean you’ll see him this summer?”
You blink a few times, face heating up as you realize what he means.
“What? No! I mean…maybe but uh. I uh…” you fumble to form a sentence, hands coming up to defend yourself.
“Jeez! I didn’t mean it that way, I just meant it in general!” He pushes himself of the box, shaking his head slowly, “I know that you’ve been in love with the guy since you met, but is that all you think about when it comes to him?”
You release a large amount of air in a dramatic sigh, “First of all, I am not /in love/ with him. He’s just a friend. Secondly, I’m not sure if he’s going to be home this summer, because of his whole volleyball thing y’know?”
“Ah yes, how could I forget, you know someone almost famous” he chuckles, rounding the corner of your small dorm hallway, “Well, when you see Ushijima Wakatoshi, don’t forget about your best friend because you are totally in love with that guy, and I’ve been telling you that for ages.”
He leaves through the front door, not before shouting something about being back the next morning to help you pack up your car.
The lock clicks loudly in the quiet of your dorm, as does the sound of your feet softly hitting the wooden floors. Your bed creaks beneath you as you lower yourself into the plastic of the mattress, something that had always bothered you about it.
You pull out your phone, tapping away at the numbers on the screen to let you in.
3473359.
Firefly.
That was your passcode. It had been part of your life ever since you were eight. Ever since you met him. Ever since Ushijima Wakatoshi snuck up on you in the tall grass.
Maybe your friend was right. As your trip back home had come closer, the only thing you’ve been able to think about was him.
You let out a loud groan, throwing yourself back onto the mattress, squeezing your eyes shut. This was no time to contemplate your feelings for your friend. If anything, this was the time to focus on your summer. Iced coffees, long naps, days at the beach, picnics, home cooked meals from your father, and the feeling that everything would be okay.
That's what you needed.
Just then, a notification crossed your screen. It was your mother.
>Everyone is excited to see you! Please drive safe tomorrow, or you might give this old woman a heart attack
You squint at the words, thumbs flying over the keyboard with a response just seconds after receiving it.
>everyone? Isn’t it just you and dad?
The typing bubble pops up, then disappears, and finally, another text.
>oh i think i forgot to tell you! Takashi Utsui and his son will be home this summer!
>i was telling them all about you and how well you’re doing in school!
Your phone nearly hits your face, though luckily it lands just to the right of your head, the screen illuminating a small portion of your room.
So he was going to be home this summer. You were going to see him after all. And he was excited to see you?
>well, i'm excited to see everyone too!
>okay well get some sleep dear, i need you to arrive in one piece tomorrow, okay?
>okay mom. I love you, see you tomorrow!
With that, you lean over to where your charger sits on the floor, before setting an alarm for the morning, and then setting a second one, knowing full and well that you’d either sleep through the first, or shut it off and go back to sleep.
The morning came and went, you, your packed car, and your favorite playlist of music, were on the road.
Driving alone had never been your favorite idea, but it had to be done. It gave you too much time to think. Too much time to think specifically about your summer. You knew that your parents had some things planned for the three of you, but they had also said that you were free to do whatever you pleased, as long as you came home at a decent time, and let them know where you were going to be.
Part of you wondered how many of their plans included Ushijima and his dad. How many did you /want/ them to be included in? Should you invite him to hang out? What if he was busy?
You sigh, shaking yourself out of your thoughts as you glance out your window, where a cow in passing grazes on some grass. You imagine that the cow has no worries, which must be nice.
You bring your focus back to the road, loosening your grip on your wheel. It was summer. You could be like the cow, not a care in the world. No school, no homework, no job, just you and the warm air, itchy grass, sticky hands from melted popsicles. You were going to enjoy yourself. You had to.
It was the late evening when you arrived at your house, two lone figures standing outside waving as you pushed the gear shift into park.
They didn’t wait for you to leave the car, your mother pulling on the handle to the driver side door, while your father stands behind her.
“You’re just in time for dinner!” Your mother.
“Why don't we do the unpacking tomorrow, and catching up tonight?” Your father.
“I have so many questions about your time away, you’ll have to answer every single one of them.” Your mother again.
Before your father could steal a chance to speak again, you climbed hastily out of the car and threw your hands around the both of them, burying your head in their shoulders, “I missed you.”
Their arms immediately enveloped your frame, squeezing you tightly as they repeated the words back to you.
Just being back in their arms made your little world feel right again, pulling you back into one piece.
Together, you walked inside of your small house, and into the kitchen where two more people sat.
The first of which was Takashi Utsui, who looked a little more aged since you last saw him. But his eyes still held that warm look he had always given his neighbors.
The second of which, was of course, Ushijima Wakatoshi. It had been two years since you had seen him. And he hadn’t changed. His hair was still styled the same way, short bangs falling over his forehead but stopping just before his eyes. Even sitting down he was tall, large frame making it a bit hard for him to sit comfortably. But what was the most recognizable, was the nearly expressionless nature of his face.
You greeted them politely, a small bow of your head before speaking up, “It’s been awhile, how are you two?”
His dad spoke first, “I’ve been well, just trying to stay busy while my son is away.” He cracks a smile, carefully clapping a hand onto Ushijima’s shoulder, “It’s been real quiet in the neighborhood without you two around.”
You give a little laugh at that, recalling days when you were kids, most typically you were the one shouting as you ran in the grass, while Ushijima made sure you weren’t going to trip on anything.
You spare another look to Ushijima, eyeing him for a moment before re-stating your question, “And how are you Ushijima-san?” You ask, turning away at the last moment. Was looking at him always so…flustering. Probably not. Your friend making all those comments must have something to do with it. You make a mental note to yell at him later for it.
You can hear the rustle of his windbreaker, and a small breath taken in. “I’ve been well, thank you for asking.”
There’s a long pause, awkward as much as it is stifling, before he speaks once again, “I hope you’ve been well.”
This brings you to look back at him, piercing eyes matched with his signature stone faced expression. Some things will never change. At least you know him well enough to know that he doesn’t mean any harm by it. A small smile seems to creep on your face.
“I have been alright. Mostly just tired. But, I finished the year off with high marks.”
Upon hearing that, his father stepped into the conversation, “Your parents have been telling us about your time in college, congratulations on finishing your year well!”
This brought your parents back into the discussion, their faces lighting up at the chance to engage in their favorite activity: smothering you with affection.
It was nice that they cared so much, but at times it could make you feel as if one wrong move, one bad grade, even the slightest way of disappointing them could make their image of you crumble away. They never meant to put that kind of weight on your shoulders, and you knew that it was entirely self imposed, but it was something you couldnt shake, ever since you first left for school.
After some time of constant praise, you managed to switch the topic, asking about summer plans.
Your mother came around to where you were standing, a gentle hand on your shoulder blade, “Whatever you want to do.”
“Mom, I can’t make all the decisions, I want to do what you and dad want to do too.” You gave her a pointed look, then looked back to your neighbors, “And if you guys have any plans, I can join you for them too, as long as im not intruding on your time together.”
Utsui seemed to brighten at your words, before turning to face his son, “Now that would be pleasant, right Wakatoshi?”
“Yeah.”
His father laughed, shaking his head slightly as he did. “Why dont you get settled in here, and we can make plans tomorrow?”
Your father nodded along, “It is getting late, we wouldn’t want to keep you too long. Let’s plan tomorrow!”
Not too long after, the five of you said your goodnights, waiting for your neighbors to step inside their house before returning to your own. Your parents walked you to your bedroom, where most of your things still laid dormant.
“Maybe tomorrow we can help you put up your pictures, and if you want we can rearrange your furniture?” Your mom stopped at the doorway, eyes scanning your childhood room carefully.
You mimicked her gesture, looking around the space. Your bed had always been pushed into the far left corner, while your desk was opposite it in the right. You had a dresser just off to the side of it, and a small closet along the same wall that your bed was on.
“No thats alright. I think kid me would cry if I changed it now.”
Your father came up behind your mother, nodding seriously, though there was a hint of a smile hiding on his features, “You did hate change when you were a kid. I still remember when Utsui and his son moved in, you were mad that our old neighbor had left, and that you wouldnt be able to play with their dog again.”
You huff dramatically, “I am still mad at them. Who is going to chase Maru around the yard?” You paused, stepping closer to your parents, “I bet they found some other kid to take my place, I’m devasted to this day.”
“I’m sure you are.” Your mom reached out to take your hands carefully, “Now, its time for you to get some sleep, you were driving all day.”
You pulled her in for a hug, in which your father joined shortly after, and you all said another set of goodnights.
The next morning, the sun woke you up. Something you had forgotten about since being away. Every morning, it would stream through your curtains, and force you to wake, like a natural alarm. You could vaguely remember kid you rolling over in an upset manner, hiding under the blankets until it got too stuffy to stay in bed.
Slowly, you pulled yourself out of bed, and stepped into the hallway, quietly making your way back into the dining area where you had been the night before. Your father stood near the opening to the small kitchn, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. He had been staring down into it, deep in thought.
Like this, you could see the age clear on him. His hair had greyed some, and he had deep smile lines by his mouth, and worry lines on his forehead. His eyes seemed tired, half due to it being about eight in the morning, and your father was not a morning person.
“Good morning, dad.” You spoke quietly, to which he still startled some.
“Oh good morning!” He grinned, moving to set his drink down for a moment, “Your mother is out in the garden, but we need to stop by the market. She wants to cook something special tonight.”
You hummed lightly, “Am I tagging along?”
He chuckled, “Oh no, not only do you need to unpack, but you got your hate for mornings from me. Go ahead and stay home kiddo.” He ruffled your hair as you walked into the kitchen, despite your attempt to dodge away from his hand.
“Mkay, you’ve got a point there.” you paused, “Any idea when you’ll be back?”
He stared at you evenly, “You know how your mother is, we might be there for a few hours. She’s very picky when it comes to cooking ingredients.” While his words were slightly exasperated, he still held a warmness in his eyes. He probably could spend all day at the market with your mom, if it meant making her happy.
He left you to find your breakfast, ushering your mom into their car and driving off to the market just barely on the other side of town.
You settled for some toast and eggs. Bringing it back into your room, a little voice in your head reminding you to bring the dishes back out before your mother returned. You would not repeat the summer you were twelve, when she discovered crumbs on your bed.
You picked up your phone from where it was hidden under your pillow, opening it to your messages. Your friend had messaged you, just hours before you woke up, most likely he was getting up for a run. How he managed it every morning was beyond you.
>Get home alright?
>See your boyfriend yet?
You glared intensely at the screen, hoping he could feel it wherever he was. You tapped away at the screen.
>he’s not my boyfriend
He responded quickly, another cheeky remark filling your screen.
>but you want him to be
You paused, starting to reply, but backspacing your words. You couldn’t find a way to defend yourself without knowing he would only use it to his advantage.
>Im blocking your number
You hit send, and directed your attention to your bedroom window. There was a slight thudding noise coming from outside. Your hands deftly sliding it open, just as you had done many times growing up.
It wasn’t hard to find the source of the noise. In his backyard, Ushijima was practicing. You watched silently as he set himself up for a receive, before quickly moving to a low stance, arms in a perfect platform. The ball flew back up into the air, a few inches away from his old volleyball net. His next move was something you had always wished to see in person. He had just enough time to take two steps, before pushing off the ground. His left hand making contact with the ball flawlessly.
With no blockers, and no one to attempt a recieve from his hit, it slammed into the ground, and bounced away. He seemed to take a few heavy breaths before crossing under the net, stooping down to collect his volleyball.
When he turned back around, his eyes strayed up to your window, instantly spotting you leaning out of it.
You stifled a gasp, realizing that you had been staring at him while he was practicing, for too long. You could feel the warmth in your cheeks, and raised a hand ever so slightly. “Uh, morning, Ushijima-san.”
It took him a moment to reply, most likely wondering why you had been watching him. “Good morning.”
You gave a sheepish smile, mentally kicking yourself as you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to watch for so long, I just never actually got to see you play outside of a phone screen.”
He walked a little closer to your window, stopping short of his fence. As he did, you could see a light layer of sweat, and his face slightly red. He must have been at it for quite some time. Which did not surprise you. With his repuatation, a volleyplayer such as himself couldn’t afford to miss out on practice.
His words brought you out of your own thoughts, a question that you hadn’t thought he would bother asking.
“You watched my games?”
Instinctively, you leaned a little further out of your window, just as you had done as a kid, “Of course I did. I tried to keep up with all of your games! Its you, I mean, we were close friends as kids, so…” You trailed off, trying not to sound weird.
Just then, Ushijima let out a quiet but clearly a positive hum, and his lips turned up in a small smile. The sight of it made your heart thud. You looked away, instead taking an incredible amount of focus on a cloud in the distance.
“Next time I have a game, I’ll send you a ticket.”
Another sentence that cause your heart to beat hard enough for you to notice. You glanced back over to him, taking a moment to calm yourself. “I promise to be the looudest one cheering for you then.”
He finished your statment for you, “Like when we were kids.”
Your mind stilled for a second. You had convinced yourself that by now, Ushijima Wakatoshi had left behind the times that you shared when you were younger, in favor of his sport and new friends. The thought was immediately shattered upon hearing his words.
“Yeah, just like when we were kids.” You returned the sentiment, before clearing your throat some, “I’ll uh, let you get back to it though. I need to bring my things inside and unpack.”
He nodded to you, slowly turning away to the net once more.
You paused, halfway back inside your room, before leaning back out of it once more, “Ushijima-san!”
He glanced back your way, eyes a little wide at your sudden call. The ball in his hands waiting for its user to continue his practice.
“When i’m done, would you like to join me for a trip into town? Maybe I can buy us lunch or something…”
He thought for a moment, eyes showing no hint as to what exactly those thoughts were. The seconds spanned between the two of you, your stomach seemed to churn with anxiety.
“Sure.”
You nearly let out a sigh of relief. Then said a temporary goodbye before sliding back into your bed. You never had trouble asking him to hang out as a kid, which was probably due to the nature of your friendship. As kids, you had a large amount of courage, and hardly ever took no as answer, especially when it came to Ushijima. Where you went, he was sure to follow.
The more you thought on it, the more you realized that Ushijima had been such a staple of your life. When you were kids, Ushijima scared away anyone who was mean to you, and you would loudly object to anyone who called him names. Before highschool, you had grown even closer, enough to talk to him about your dreams for the future, the ones that did not match your childhood dreams. Nothing would ever top being spies however.
You breathed in, a thought at the forefront of your mind. Your friend was right. Even just being home for one day reminded you of the affection you held for your neighbor. How long had you ignored the idea that you might want to be more than just friends with Ushijima? You couldn’t say, but looking back on the years, it was easy to see now.
You always wanted to be near him, always wanted to share a space with him even if it meant sitting in silence. You’d share food with eachother, and offered to take care of him if he ever felt sick. You would do your best to help him practice, which usually resulted in you shagging the balls that he hit your way. Not to mention that every summer that he had been home, you always dragged him out to see the fireflies.
You could feel your chest tighten, heart rapidly speeding up as you came to the realization that you did have feelings for him, and had just been hiding them away from yourself. But now, what could you do about it? You would never want to get in the way of his career in volleyball, or any dreams that he had, and you also had aspirations of your own, ones that might mean being away from him. And of course, there was the heavy weight that loomed over you, shadowing you with uncertainty. Ushijima might not even like you in the same way. Afterall, you had pretty much been the driving force of your friendship. Hopefully he had never felt that you were overbearing.
From where it still sat on your bed, your phone began to buzz a random pattern. You were getting a phone call.
You mentally thanked whoever it was for the distraction, and reached over to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Hello to you too, you mother would like to know if she should buy you anything from the market?” Your father sounded a little muffled, probably trying to keep his voice down while out in public.
You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it, “I don’t think so…not unless they still have the stand with the necklace pendants!” That one had always been your favorite to look at as a kid. It was full of intricate designs on either wood, stone, or wire wrapped gems. You never had enough on you to buy one, but looking was enough.
“Hah, okay. I’ll let her know. Did you get your stuff inside yet?”
“No, not yet. I’m about to though, and then when i’m done, I invited Ushijima to go into town with me, it’s been awhile since I’ve been there. “
You dad was quiet for a moment, thinking over his words most likely, “Back to sticking by his side all the time?” there was a light teasing tone in his voice, and something told you that your father was onto you and your troublesome feelings for Ushijima.
“Well, it is summer, I have to be as much as a kid while I can.”
Another pause, “Well, don’t forget to come home to your loving and adoring parents, yeah?”
You snorted, “Yeah, I wont forget. I’ll let you go back to shopping though, don’t lose mom in the crowd.”
After you hung up, you looked back to your forgotten breakfast, carefully grabbing the plate and taking it back down into the kitchen. You needed to focus on bringing your things inside and set up your room. It takes you a few trips to get it all inside, but it gets done.
You glance at the time. Eleven thirty-two. You could at least unpack your clothes, and put them away in your dresser. Most of them should still be folded anyways. You moves past your box of books, and another one labelled ‘decorations’ before finding your suitcase. You pulled out an outfit for today, and then started to separate shirts from pants and shorts, athletic clothes fom sleepwear, and everything inbetween. Once they were all sorted, you moved onto putting them away in your drawyers, knowing full and well that they’d inevitably end up sitting in a laundry basket, never to be folded again.
As you finished, you took some time to clear a pathway through your room, picking up your clothes to bring them to the bathroom, so you could take a quick shower to wash off your drive from the day before.
By the time you stepped out of the shower, it was already noon. Hopefully Ushijima still wanted to join you in seeing your hometown for the first time in about a year for you, and about two years for him. You wondered if anything had changed, and what had stayed the same. If you could change within a year, so could your town.
With a fresh set of clothes, you set out to go find Ushijima. A quick glance outside your window showed that he was no longer practicing, which meant you’d have to go to their front door. Grabbing your car keys from where you had tossed them onto your desk, you once more made your way to the front of the house, and locking the door behind you. You hesitated for only an instant before stepping off your small porch and crossing through the grass to your neighboring house, rapping your knuckles across the door in a way to keep it from being too loud.
Within moments, the door swung open, revealing Ushijima. He had changed out of his clothes from earlier, now in a simple gray t-shirt and a pair of black joggers. He looked good. As the though hit you, you shoved it away, not wanting to just stand in his doorway focused on how he looked attractive in the plain outfit.
“Do you still want to join me to town?” You asked, rocking back onto your heels, waiting for his answer.
His eyes slid to the side, just behind the door, where he grabbed a crewneck sweater, pulling it over his head easily before stepping outside, “Yeah.”
You looked at him sideways for a moment, pursing your lips as you looked at his sweater. “You do know it’s going to be hot out?”
“I do know that. But it might get cold iniside certain buildings. I want to be prepared.” He stated it so simply, as if he couldn’t fathom why you didn’t have the same thought process.
You laughed lightly, of course that was his reasoning. Ushijima wanted to be prepared to be cold, in the middle of summer. At least he was thinking ahead. Something about the whole thing made you wonder if he was like that with everything he did, though he had never seemed overly cautious.
“Mkay, let’s get in the car.”
“What’s funny about my sweater?” he asked from your side, his long strides making it hard to keep up with him for the short distance that was to your car.
At this, you reached over to his sleeve, pulling at the seam gently, “It’s inside out Ushijima-san.” You kept your voice a little low, trying to be gentle about it. You’d never seen him get embarrassed but if he were, it would be about something like that. Ushijima usually wanted to seem well put together when he was home.
He looked down at his sweater, pulling it away from his body as he inspected it. “You’re right.” He stopped walking, starting to pull the dark green crewneck back over his head, now flipped so it wasn’t inside out. He slid his arms back into the sleeves, only to struggle getting it over his head. You blinked a few times before moving closer to him, the soft fabric in your hands before you could think about it.
With a careful tug, you pulled the crewneck back down, freeing Ushijima from death by sweater. You were looking down at the lettering on it, when you could hear him take the quietest breath in. This prompted you to look up, quickly becoming aware of how close you had gotten to him. Your eyes met. In the sunlight, his eyes looked golden. They were widened, seemingly a little shocked. You immediately took a step back, fumbling with your words for a moment before finally getting out an apology.
“I did not realize how close I was, I’m sorry!” You held your hands out away from your body, mind still reeling.
Ushijima appeared to have shook himself from his surprise, and once more looked at you, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Another apology died in your throat, as you proccessed his words. He didn’t mind? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He didn’t mind you helping him with his sweater, or he didn’t mind how close you were? If it was the latter, then what does that even mean in general? Was itbecause you were close friends as kids? Or was it-
You stopped yourself from the spiraling thoughts, instead focusing on not letting your face show your worried thoughts.
“Ah, what do you mean by that?” You questioned, trying to be casual about it.
He stiffened visibly, one of his hands coming up to pull at the collar of his crewneck. “It’s nothing. Thank you for helping me.”
And just like in your dining room, an uncomfortable silence descended over the two of you, one that hung in the air like a candle scent that you dont entirely love. It lasted the whole car ride into town. You resolved to ignore it for the time being, and instead try to lighten the mood from whatever it was just then.
You rounded a corner steadily, and pulled to a stop infront of an old cafe. It used to be run by an elderly couple, but a few years back, they retired, and their daughter and her partner took over the business for them.
There was a subtle ringing of bells as the two of you walked inside, making your way to the counter side by side. You watched as Ushijima’s eyes wandered the little cafe. He looked down at the counter, where a small cat statue sat, portraying a spotted cat curled up, asleep. He gingerly tapped the ceramic head of the cat, lips curling up ever so slightly.
You both looked up as a hostess greeted you politely, and led you to a small booth. She left you for a few moments after that. It wasn’t busy in the cafe but she did have other patrons to attend to.
“I’ve never been here.” Ushijima was still looking around, admiring the minimalistic design of the place. It was mostly white, with some soft blue detailing, and a few gray-scale paintings hanging on the wall.
“Really?” For someone who had lived here almost his whole life, he sure didn’t get out much. It was almost hard to believe that he hadn’t also been everywhere you had been. At least that’s what both of your parents would say on the topic.
“Mhm.” He pulled his attention back to you, a tender look in his eyes as he mused outloud, “I think Tendo would like it here.”
The name rang a bell in your head, and it took you about two seconds to remember why. “Oh! You played with Tendo at Shiratorizawa! I think I remember seeing him on the court!”
He nodded. “I think you two would have gotten along too.”
“Maybe he can visit sometime, he seemed like a good friend to you when you weren’t playing.”
Ushijima thought for a moment, before pulling out his phone, “Would you mind joining me for a picture?”
The suddenness of the question took you by surprise, tilting your head as you gave Ushijima a blank look.
“Well, I think he would like this cafe, and also have liked you.” He sucked at communicating. It took you at least three whole seconds to connect the dots.
Like a light being clicked on, you understood what he meant. Ushijima wanted to send a picture to his friend. He wanted you in the picture. He was going to tell his friend about you. Well…maybe.
“Yeah, okay. Do you want me to sit in your side of the booth for it?”
He merely nodded in response, a more serious look crossing his face as he tapped away at his screen. While he readied the camera, you stood up, making your way to the open spot on the booth, sliding close to him, but not as close as earlier.
The smell of freshly washed linen, and slightly of sandalwood washed over you, and you were surprised that you hadn’t noticed it earlier. Your shoulders bumped as he leaned a little closer to you. And you drew your attention to his camera, where Ushijima’s finger hovered over the shutter button. You frowned slightly, watching as his face stayed the same levelness that he always seemed to have.
“You should smile.” You stated plainly, bringing a hand up to his face, poking his cheek. It was easy to fall into a pattern of being playful with him, just as you did when you were younger. You almost didn’t even realize that you had done it.
He turned over to you, opening his mouth to say something, before shutting it quickly. He seemed to question himself for a moment, before doing what he was told. His smile didn’t seem forced. It was small and rather cute. You leaned in a little more, letting a natural smile take over your face as he snapped a few pictures. One of them you didn’t even notice Ushijima holding up two fingers behind your head, acting as bunny ears, until he had already taken the picture.
“Don’t think I didn’t see that, Ushijima-san.” You said as you started to stand back up, to return to your side of the table.
However, he caught your wrist, his hand easily enveloping your wrist, though his grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt you.
“You don’t need to do that.” He paused, thinking to himself once more before continuing, “We’ve known eachother for years, we don’t need to use honorifics.”
You knew that when he said ‘we’ he meant you. And it wasn’t something you were doing on purpose, rather it was habit you had forced yourself to do while in school, as you only really had the one close friend, and hardly knew any other students beyond their names. But Ushijima…he had a point. You had known him since you were eight. You nodded slowly, starting to pull your hand out of his. You tried to ignore the way your fingers lingered on his. You tried to ignore the searing feeling of his hand on your wrist. The gentle tone he had taken. The meaning of his words.
“Okay, just Ushijima then.” you sat back down, and before either of you could continue, your hostess came back.
She took your drink orders, and then your food orders, and left once more.The rest of your time at the cafe was spent talking, and then at times, sitting in silence while you ate your food. But it was different than in the car. This was easy, comfortable, a reminder of how things used to be before the two years of not seeing eachother had happened. You could sit at this diner with Ushijima for hours. Maybe even days.
But, you did have to return back home at some point. Your mother was making dinner, and your father made you promise to come back, in his own words of not forgetting your parents, of course.
Back at the front counter, you tried to pay, card already in hand, when Ushijima’s phone flashed a card, and the reader gave a short beep. You blinked a few times, your brain trying to catch up to your eyes.
“Hey! I was supposed to pay!”
He shrugged a response, already turning to the door of the cafe, “Too slow, maybe next time.”
And just like earlier in the day, at your window, your heart sped up, its beats sounding loud in your chest. He had said next time. There was going to be a next time. You forced a scowl, shaking your head at him. “I’ll slip money under your door.”
He held the door open for you, his hand coming to the small of your back as he followed behind, guiding you out of the way of more cafe guests. His touch seemed to burn, but in the way the sun felt when you were outside, its rays warming your skin while a breeze floated past.
“I’ll just return the money.” He leaned down, his words held a light tone to them. This was the Ushijima you knew as a kid. While he could sound uninterested, the fact that he talked at all was how you knew he was your friend. And that was all you needed to know when you were younger. That you had made a friend in him.
You frown at him, and stop walking all together. “Ushijima Wakatoshi. This can only be settled one way then.”
He stared back, brows furrowing for only a moment before you spoke again.
“The fireflies. They should be out tonight. If you can catch more than me, I’ll let you get away with paying for lunch. If I can cath more than you, I get to pay you back.”
He stepped around you, throwing a competetive look over his shoulder, “Alright.”
You pulled your keys out, unlocking the car for the both of you. It was a short trip home, filled with music from an artist you hadn’t heard of, but was good nonetheless.
You departed on the sidewalk, after confirming that you’d meet up in your backyard around ten pm.
Upon walking inside, your mother greeted you with a kind smile, and an almost childlike joy in her eyes. Your heart swelled at the sight.
“Good evening, how was the market?” You asked, slipping off your shoes before making your way to where she stood by the kitchen counter.
“Oh it was wonderful! Your father let me bring home new plants for the garden, as well as some handmade house decorations!” She paused, hands coming up to hold your shoulders for a moment before her eyes widened, “Oh! We also got you a few gifts! Let me go get them!”
She disappeared into the hallway, leaving you in the quiet of the kitchen, a pot on the stove bubbling on a low flame. It smelled good. You had missed it.
When your mother reentered the room, your father was trailing behind her. She held a small parchment envelope, which she passed to you, holding your hands for a passing moment.
When she let go, you took a moment to admire the packaging. It was a simple brown paper, wrapped with twine, and a small card stamped with the vendor’s logo. Simple, but definitely something to take your time on looking at.
You carefully untie the twine, and unfold the wrapping, revealing two identical necklaces. They were fireflies. The bug itself was carved out of wood with impressive detailing, while the end had small green stones, if you shifted them one way or another, the green would fade a slight yellow, giving the feeling of a glow.
You smiled at the sight. It wasn’t hard to imagine why they bought two of them. Your parents knew what the lightning bugs meant to you…and you were sure that they knew how much Ushijima meant to you.
“After dinner, be sure to give him the other one.” Your father said, all while stirring the contents of the pot on the stove, most likely knowing that your mom would eventually forget that it was there.
“I will, dont worry.” You wave him off, starting to say something to change the subject, when your mother stops you short.
“I don’t want to assume anything, but do you love him?”
You froze. The feeling from earlier today taking over your whole body. A not quite uncomfortable feeling, but one that sends warmth to your cheeks and a slight tremble to your hands.
Instantly, your father chastised your mother, trying to ease his child at the same time.
You took a moment to shake off the nerves that had spilt over your mind. “Its okay dad. Im sure that you guys have always known…” you trailed off, eyes glancing to the clock on the wall nearest to you, “I think I do love him. I’m not sure when it happened, but even for the short time I’ve been home, It’s been on my mind. He’s been on my mind.”
Your parents shared a look. They weren’t exactly expecting you to be so honest with them on the topic. When they brought their attention back to you, they both wore the same expression. Not quite worried, but it was still there.
“Are you going to tell him?” Your dad’s voice was soft, one he would use when he tried approaching the local strays.
You shifted your weight, mind racing with all the different ways that conversation with Ushijima could go. In the end, you were sure that you’d regret it if you didn’t.
“Yeah. Tonight. When the fireflies come out.”
They shared another look, and a quiet breath escaped your mother. When she turned back to you, she was smiling once more, “Well, let’s eat before the big moment, yeah?”
You’re hardly able to eat dinner, hardly able to sit still. You notice every minute that passes by. It takes all of your strength to stay with your parents as they finish their meals.
It’s nine forty-five when you make your way to your backyard, slowly coming to sit on the ground, trying to take as many deep breaths as you possibly can.
The night air is warm, and it settles in your chest heavily. The grass beneath your legs tickles and itches all at once. Above your head, a few fireflies are seemingly floating in the summer night’s breeze.
This time, his voice doesn’t scare you.
“You’re early. It’s not ten yet.”
You turn halfway, leaning on one of your hands as you do, “I know. I figured I’d sit for a minute.”
He walks closer, standing next to you for a moment, eyes straying up to the sky. He brings his eyes back to your form, lowering himself into the grass next to you. Ushijima is still wearing his sweater. He still smells vaguely of sandalwood.
Neither of you speak just yet. You don’t know how to tell him your thoughts, and he must know that you have something on your mind.
A small gust of air passes over you, and you can’t help the shiver that follows shortly. Part of it is from the temperature starting to drop, the other part from nerves.
“Would you like my sweater?” His voice is quiet, and sincere.
You don’t even get the chance to answer before he slides it off, and passes it to you. You fumble over a thank you, trying to hide the shaking of your hands as you pull the collar over your head, tugging on the sleeves until they meet your wrists.
It’s silent again.
You open your mouth to speak, when you feel something land on your hand. Your eyes flick downwards.
You hadn’t seen it. A lone firefly danced through the air before it came to rest atop your hand. It’s gentle glow would come and go in waves while you watched it crawl.
“Caught one.” Your voice scares it away, but the sensation stays.
He chuckles. A sound you had always enjoyed. “That’s only one. I can catch up.”
You shake your head lightly, remembering the earlier conversation you had. “Hey, before we catch any more, can I tell you something?”
Ushijima glances towards you, then nods in response, “Sure. What is it?”
You angle your body towards him, finding a few stray blades of grass to keep your hands occupied as you work up the courage to confess. Finally, the words tumble out of your mouth.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“You think?”
You catch yourself smiling carefully, looking out towards the edge of your yard, “No…I know I do. I was pushing my feelings aside for a while. But, I needed to tell you, now that we’re together again.”
A few beats of silence pass again. And you’re about to ramble about how it’s okay if he doesn’t feel the same, when his hand tenderly turns your face to look at him.
Your eyes meet his golden ones, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull your lips to his.
His hand is gentle and warm as he cups the side of your face. You can feel his lashes ever so slightly on yours. His lips are chapped enough to notice, but not enough for you to care. Ushijima is careful in how he kisses you. It’s light and fleeting, and everything you need to suppress your worries.
When you part, you’re speechless. His hand doesn’t leave your face. You shut your eyes for a passing second before looking back at him.
“I know that I’m in love with you too.” He sounds sure of himself, as he always does, but this time it's different.
You aren’t exactly sure when, but eventually you found yourself leaning your head on his shoulder, watching as the fireflies lifted into the night sky. You could sit there for hours, as long as you had Ushijima right there next to you.
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tsukkismoonlight · 8 months
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Okay, next fics that i should be posting, will be these:
Stay the Night v.2 || Tsukishima Kei x reader
You wind up outside the window of your high-school friend, now in college. Old feelings linger, and one night with him reminds you both of your wavering feelings.
When it Comes to You || Jean Kirschtein x reader
A group project gets you stuck with Jean Kirschtein, an obnoxious guy who seems to be full of himself. Your plans to get through college peacefully change in the span of a few days, when he insists on being around. Bubbling feelings and brash decisions lead to a new experience, and you can’t figure out what you really want anymore
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