#it took me longer than it had any reason to so i'm kinda done looking at it

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2 to this!

Now that Max and Dustin were vaguely aware of what was going on, they weren’t going to stop until they knew everything. It took about ten seconds from leaving Steve’s driveway for them to start asking questions. 

“Robin…” Max started, “What is he not telling us?”

“That Eddie’s a dick,” she grumbled, “But we’re not allowed to talk about it.”

Dustin crossed his arms against his chest, huffing, “No he’s not! Steve’s right, it’s not his fault he isn’t interested.” 

“If that was the case than ya, sure Steve would be right but it’s not. He’s totally leading him on."

Dustin frowned. That didn’t sound like the Eddie he knew, “How so?”

“Well let’s see,” she lifted a hand, counting it out on her fingers, “There’s the fact he calls Steve shit like ‘pretty’ and ‘sweetheart’ when he thinks no one can hear him. He actively stops Steve from dating anyone else and has scared like five girls away from the store entirely. Not to mention they sleep together almost every night. He just loves torturing him in general! He gets off on the power he has over him, I swear.”

That…did not sound good.

“Well…maybe he likes him back?” Dustin said weakly, praying that there was some kind of misunderstanding and that one of his best friends wasn't being a massive asshole to his surrogate dad.

She shook her head, “I used to think that too until like a week ago. Do you wanna know what he told Nancy when she asked about it? I quote, ‘ Me and Steve? Seriously Nance? I’d rather die. ’” Robin said flatly, resentment heavy in her voice, “And Steve fucking heard him say that and hasn’t done shit about it!”

Max had been staring out the window, trying to rationalize why anyone would do things like that if they weren’t interested, when she froze, “He said that? About Steve? Our Steve?”

“He sure did. And that's why I'm saying it all needs to stop. He needs to fuck off now."

Dustin opened his mouth, so used to jumping to Eddie’s defense before snapping it back shut. He didn’t know what to say. If it was all true then he was going to kill Eddie for fucking with Steve’s feelings, for no good reason. But on the other hand, this was Robin they were dealing with, and her threshold for Steve-related violence was a lot lower than a normal person’s would be. 

She pulled into the trailer park with a sigh, “I’m sorry I put all that out there, it’s just…I needed to get that out. And you guys have almost gotten me killed on more than one occasion so…now we’re even I guess. But don’t tell him I told you! Eddie can do no wrong in his eyes, for some reason.”

They both nodded, Dustin hopping out with Max. He’d bike home later because they needed to talk about this, without Robin there. They thanked her for the ride, standing there in awkward silence as they watched her go. 

“Do you think he’d really do something like that?” Dustin asked as she led him inside, “It’s not that I don’t trust her, but she’s definitely biased.”

Max shrugged, looking just as conflicted as Dustin felt, “I don’t think so? But we should still be on the lookout. If it is true, we’re gonna have to do something.”

Dustin nodded, automatically on board for any hypothetical helping of Steve. They talked for a while longer, another hair-brained scheme forming. They would watch, see if Eddie really was leading Steve on, and if it was true, they’d intervene. The how was yet to be determined, but they would. 

No one was going to hurt their babysitter and get away with it. Not on their watch. 

They spent the next week spying on the two of them, which was kinda easy considering how often they were always together. And things were not looking good.

Now that they knew how Steve felt, they couldn’t help but be mad. Ya, ya, Steve said not to be, but it was bullshit! Because now that Max was paying attention, there was no way Eddie didn’t know how he felt about him. Not with how much time they spent together. And poor Steve was so obvious. 

Robin had been right, he did things just to get a rise out of Steve, like whispering in his ear to see him blush, or calling him one of those dumb pet names, his voice all low and unsubtle. He would even hold his freaking hand! And he always looked so smug about it. Eddie would do one of his stupid antics and leave a stumbling, blushing Steve in his wake, a self-satisfied smirk on his dumb face, like getting Steve all excited and dopey was just so entertaining. 

They were so annoyed that they bonded over it, sharing twin looks of aggravation every time they saw Eddie hang all over him, which was always, with Steve blushing and giggling all the while. 

And they didn’t know what to do about it. Steve had made it very clear that he didn’t want anyone being mean to Eddie over something “stupid”, and he would actually get mad at them if he noticed them acting out against the bullshit. They would have just avoided him entirely if they could, but avoiding Eddie meant avoiding Steve, and that was something neither was willing to compromise on.

So they settled for being cordial whenever Steve was around, and then passive-aggressive when he wasn’t, if just for their own sanity, as they debated what to do about it. 

And Eddie was not a fan of the new behavior. He didn’t know what the issue was with his two favorite little twerps, but they were pissed, and solely at him for the past week. Which, he did not need right now. He was still trying to figure out why Robin suddenly hated him, let alone Steve’s adopted children. 

He racked his brain for anything he could have done, but he always came up empty. If it had been Mike, then sure, he’d have something to go on, making obvious moves to steal his sister’s maybe-boyfriend were fair grounds to be mad about, but he was totally fine. Mike, Lucas, and Will weren’t in on whatever the other two were up to, thank god. He was barely handling dealing with two angry teenagers, let alone five.

Luckily for him, they at least tried to pretend like nothing was wrong when Steve was around. Eddie may not be a genius, but he was pretty sure that having the three closest people to his potential boyfriend hate him, was not a good look. 

Steve was the only one acting the same, thank god. If the three stooges had an issue with him, then that was fine, as long as it didn’t interrupt the long and arduous courting process he had started and planned on finishing. Sooner rather than later. 

He sighed, lazily watching Steve get ready for work from his bed. Though it really was on the edge of just becoming their bed from how often Eddie stayed over. He was already in a hurry, mumbling about how he promised to pick up the two twerps from school today, almost guaranteeing his own lateness.

“You don’t have to always pick them up, you know,” Eddie whined, more than a little annoyed that his afternoon cuddle time was being interrupted.

“But I promised. And you know how they are with that kind of thing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, Steve was too nice for his own good. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist from behind, still pouting, “But wouldn’t you rather spend those last twenty minutes in bed?”

“ Obviously. But Keith’s going to kill me if I’m late again.”

Eddie rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, completely in love with the way the small touch made him blush. How he’d managed not to kiss him yet was a masterclass in self-restraint, “Baby, you’re going to be late anyway if you go. How about I get them?”

“Really?”

“Sure. Then you’ll only have to worry your pretty little head over getting to work.” 

Steve smiled as he thanked him, in that soft way that felt like it was just for Eddie, and it never failed to make his heart do a flip in his chest. 

Plus, Eddie could use the time to interrogate the two little shits and figure out what the hell the problem was. He pulled into the school parking lot, honking at the duo as they waited near the front steps. He rolled his eyes when they tried to ignore him, pretending like they were in some kind of deep conversation.

He leaned out the window, yelling over, “Get in, I’m taking you two home today. Steve called in a favor.” 

They looked at each other, all conspiratorial before they made their way to the van, both sitting down with a huff, avoiding the passenger side. He didn’t know when the two of them got so close, but he wasn’t a fan if this was the result of it. 

They were silent, they didn’t even talk to each other, just stared out the window with their arms crossed. 

“So…,” Eddie tried, “Excited for the campaign this weekend?”

Silence. Eddie glanced in his rearview, both of them still staring out the window, acting like he wasn’t even there. 

“Dustin?”

Silence.

“I know you can hear me man, come on!”

Dustin finally turned away from the window, shrugging, "I can’t make it. Have Erica fill in for me or something…" 

Eddie could feel his eye start twitching. 

Pretending that he didn’t exist? Whatever. 

Purposefully slamming the door for any room that they were in together? Okay sure. 

But missing DnD? Not uh, Eddie was going to get to the bottom of this now. He pulled off to the side of the road, turning to frown at them from the driver’s seat, “Okay, that’s enough! What the hell is wrong with you two?”

Max whipped her head around, glaring at him, and Jesus that kid had a hell of a glare, “What’s wrong with us? What’s wrong with you?”

Eddie raised a brow, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he stared at them, “What does that even mean?”

“We know okay?” Dustin hissed out, looking anywhere but Eddie’s face, “We know what you’re doing and we don’t like it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Max scoffed, “We’re talking about how you’re a dick! And Steve deserves better than that!” 

Dustin nodded along, trying to glare at Eddie the way Max was, but he was starting to tear up instead. Like a complete overprotective loser. He wondered if this was how Steve felt when he worried about them. If it was, he was going to start complaining about his coddling a lot less. 

It just wasn’t fair. Nancy, Robin, and now Eddie? When will the torment of watching Steve Harrington's failed love life stop? Why did someone who was nothing but good have to keep dealing with this crap?

Dustin wiped at his face, angry tears still falling, “You know that he likes you and you just mess with him! I don’t know if this is revenge for what he was like in high school but it’s fucked up!” 

Eddie stared at them, slack-jawed as they both started to dress him down. 

Max was digging around her backpack, handing Dustin a pack of tissues while she was giving Eddie the evil eye, "You couldn't have had a bit more tack for the guy that saved your life? I don’t know, maybe ‘He’s not my type,’ instead of “I’d rather die?’ " 

She grabbed a few of them for herself, dangerously close to joining Dustin in the rage crying. She just…wanted Steve to be happy. Was that really so much to ask?

Eddie’s brain was still going a mile a minute, desperately trying to just catch up to what the hell they were talking about, but that brought everything to a halt. He remembered that, a throwaway comment to get Nancy off his back, considering he was in the middle of actively trying to date her ex (?) boyfriend. 

Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew that Steve felt something for him, there was no other reason why he would let him do the things he did if he didn’t, but he never forgot just how infatuated he had been with Nancy. He remembered him trailing after her in the Upside Down, like some kind of love-sick puppy. Like recognizes like, Steve had looked at Nancy the way Eddie looked at Steve. He was going to let Steve go after that, acknowledge that it was just a simple crush that would never be reciprocated, and wait for the inevitable of them getting back together.

But then, he went and almost died, with Steve deciding to save his life. His little crush morphed into full-blown love, embarrassingly quickly during his recovery. Steve was just always there for him, and in a matter of days they became instant best friends, both obsessed with spending as much time as possible with each other. 

They talked about anything and everything under the sun, all but one thing. 

Nancy. 

He never asked Steve about her, because he honestly never wanted to know. He had been too chicken shit to just ask, terrified that Steve would start confessing his undying love for her the moment he opened the door. And technically if he didn't know for sure, he could feel a whole lot less like shit for being all over someone else's hypothetical boyfriend. 

He avoided her most of the time, out of pure jealousy for how she got along with Steve, and guilt from the fact he was knowingly trying to, maybe, steal him away from her. But once she moved to Boston, Eddie had been so sure it was his chance. The way Steve would look at him sometimes, the way he would touch him, Eddie knew he wasn’t alone in his feelings, even if Steve needed some extra time to get to where he was, he was more than willing to be patient. 

So when Nancy had cornered him during one of her visits, asking him way too specific questions about Steve, he strategically lied, thinking that it would stop any upcoming jealousy or suspicions on her end, and most importantly, stop her from impeding on his ever-increasing Steve Alone Time. 

But now, his genius plan of gently coaxing Steve into a bisexual awakening and subtly stealing him from his maybe girlfriend was the most moronic thing he'd ever thought of.

He finally found his voice, cutting right through the noise of two kids yelling at him, "Steve heard that?!"

“Yeah, he heard it!” Max hissed, “Playtime is over, you need to leave him alone.”

Oh no. Oh no, no no.

"I'm going to puke, I am actually going to puke,” Eddie turned in his seat, putting his head in his hands, suddenly feeling very, very, ill. The love of his goddamn life heard him say he would rather die than be with him? 

Max and Dustin glanced at each other, confused at his reaction. They weren’t sure what they were expecting him to say, maybe a denial, or a warning to stay out of his business, but not this. Max leaned forward in her seat, frowning as she watched Eddie rub at his temples, looking like he had just heard the worst news imaginable. 

“So now you suddenly care?” She asked, lips pursed as Eddie whipped around to stare at her.

“Of course I fucking care! I love Steve! I-he was never supposed to hear that!” Eddie was dangerously close to hyperventilating at the full realization that Steve was probably still under the impression that Eddie didn’t want him. 

Dustin latched on to that, already hopeful that he had been right after all, and one of his best friends wasn’t a complete ass, "Then why the hell would you say that?" 

He told them everything in a jumbled mess of word vomit, embarrassed and intensely mad at himself for being such an idiot. 

And Dustin and Max seemed to agree. 

Max still had her arms crossed, but she wasn’t giving him the death stare anymore. She glanced at Dustin,  “He’s either lying or he’s the dumbest man on the planet.”

Dustin shrugged, “Well he was a super, super senior, so…”

They stared at each other, having some kind of telepathic conversation before Max turned back to him, “If you are telling the truth then you have to tell Steve.”

“Like now, ” Dustin added.

Max nodded, “In front of us.”

“Or else we will never forgive you for making him cry.”

That was another punch to the gut for Eddie, “He cried ?”

They told him the whole, horrible story, and Eddie was struck with the sudden urge to punch himself in the face. He was already starting the van back up when Max insisted they go to him immediately, u-turning to go straight to the Family Video. He was desperate to fix this stupid shit, and fix it now.  

He parked haphazardly, speed-walking into the empty store with two growingly excited teenagers in tow. 

Robin was reading a magazine at the front counter, eyes narrowing at the sight of Eddie waltzing in, “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to Steve.”

Robin rolled her eyes, “Steve’s busy, you can be a dick to him on his off hours.” 

Eddie almost flinched at her tone, still not used to how cold the usually goofy Robin could be. Which, okay, fair, considering just how bad he looked in her eyes, but he was not leaving until he talked to Steve.

Robin raised a brow when she saw Dustin and Max come in behind him. Max was flipping the closed side over as they entered, ignoring Robin’s protests, and Dustin locked it behind him, just as Steve wandered onto the floor, a stack of tapes in hand. 

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked as he set the stack down on the counter, “And why did you lock the door?”

“Eddie needs to talk to you!” Dustin nearly shouted , hopping from foot to foot with obvious impatience. 

Now that Steve was in front of him, all of Eddie’s nervous energy was reaching a peak. He fiddled with his rings, heart pounding, “D-do you have a minute?”

Steve cocked his head, obviously confused, “I always have time for you,” Steve glanced around the room of wide-eyed spectators, “We can step outside if you want-”

“Nope,” Max shook her head, “In front of us.”

While Eddie was technically grateful the kids told him what was going on, he really wished he wasn’t about to risk getting rejected in front of spectators. He took a deep breath, deciding just to rip the band-aid off in one go, “I’m in love with you.”

Steve just stared at him, jaw slack as Eddie nervously prattled on, “I’m in love with you, and I’ve been in love with you for months. But I’m an idiot, an idiot who loves you, and would certainly not rather die than be with the man of my dreams.” 

Steve was still just staring at him, which, honestly, was probably the appropriate response for an impromptu love confession from his best friend. He didn’t know what to make of that face. He should have asked the kids if they were sure Steve felt the same way, how hard would it have been to ask if they were fucking sure?

At least Robin looked seemingly impressed.

The silence just made him keep going, even if his mind was desperately trying to tell him to shut the hell up, “A-and I thought you thought you were straight, or straightish, and I thought Nancy was after you, and -"

And then Steve was kissing him. He just…waltzed right up and grabbed Eddie’s shirt, pulling him down to crash their lips together. 

Eddie stalled for half a second, in complete disbelief that it was happening, Steve Harrington was kissing him. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him in closer to make the kiss deeper, already fully aware that this was a feeling he would be addicted to for the rest of his life. 

He could vaguely hear Robin squealing in the background, and Max and Dustin gagging, but he was too focused on the sweet taste of Steve’s lips to care. 

He tried to chase his mouth when Steve pulled away, giving him the pretty kind of laugh that made Eddie’s legs feel weak, “We’re both idiots,” Steve smiled, pressing chaste kisses to Eddie’s face between words, “Two idiots in love,”

Eddie blinked, heart still going a mile a minute, “You love me?”

Steve didn’t even tease him for it, kissing his nose like the adorable bastard he was, “Head over heels-”

Eddie was already kissing him again before he could finish, swallowing down his laughs with a happy sigh. 

Dustin and Max watched as their favorite adults made out in the middle of the video store, both kinda grossed out and insanely pleased that they were the reason it was happening in the first place. They looked at each other, grinning from ear to ear, both firmly deciding that meddling in Steve’s life had definitely been worth it. 

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Rose Recaps 2023 - Korea

I started with Japan because this year it gave me everything I could possibly want. Korea gave me some very nice surprises. Let's go.

The one that had me question if watching it was good for my mental health.

The Eighth Sense

Much like what I said about Tokyo in April is... it was not a good decision on my part to watch this one live. I related way too much to Jae Won and I wasn't in a specially good place at the time. However, I love it so much. I have rewatched it since then and it's such an incredible journey.

I think they used the time very efficiently and they didn't try to skip too many steps to make it a happy ending. I would be okay without any redemption for those two but on the plus side the other friends were brilliant.

Favourite Moment

The one that came out of nowhere

Sing My Crush

This show came out all at once and I had no idea it was coming. But I'm so glad it did. There were I think 4 kbls that came out all at once this year. And with the exception of this one, they were all worse because of it. First of all I fell in love with the song instantly and Han Tae immediately after. He's so cute and in love and it takes him way too long to realise it, but his devotion to Ba Ram is unquestionable from the beginning.

Favourite Moment:

The one that was a sequel but not really

Love Class 2

The first couple of episodes I wasn't sure about this one. The first couple of episodes were kinda of confusing, starting with such a dark scene on the roof, and so many different types of relationships to keep track of.

Joo Hyuk was my instant favourite from the beginning. The way he was instantly smitten and committed from the first moment he saw the TA was delightful.

It took me longer to warm up to Min Woo and Maru. But I love their arc. Even the jealousy experiment didn't bother me, Maru needed a push. Much like Lee Hyun said, it was so obvious.

Lee Hyun and Kim An were the last ones to reach me. I think the whole backstory around Kim An muddied the waters a bit and I'm not sure it was necessary to have so much of it, but I did love that when Kim An gave in, he did so with no reservations.

Favourite Moments:

The one that had me considering moving to a farm

Love Tractor

Ok. Not really, But look how pretty. Funny story, I actually rewatched part of this show in an orchard not that much different from the one here. I was on holiday in the countryside and just thought it would be incredibly amusing.

Anyway. I love Ye Chan an unreasonable amount. He's so dramatic and so earnest. And honestly if I ever had to move to a place like this I think I would pretty much have the same reaction as Seon Yul. I just want my peace and quiet.

But I really like their dynamic all throughout and considering the time restraints I thought that the development of Yul's feelings was done quite well.

Favourite Moment:

The other one with Love in the title

Love Mate

There was absolutely no reason for me to like this show has much as I did. Ha Ram should've bothered me. This whole concept should've annoyed me. The whole separation bit should've made me angry. Why didn't it? I have no clue. But I loved it. I've watched it more than once and love it every time.

Favourite Moment

The one with coffee and pottery

Unintentional Love Story

I adore this show. Pick an episode, any episode, I love it. Was it perfect? No. Was the kissing the thing that made it not perfect? Perhaps. I love it nonetheless.

[Confession time. Is there one thing about this show that bothers me no matter how many times I rewatch it? Yes. Is it the kissing? No. Is it something absolutely and stupidly tiny that only I could possibly be that bothered by it? Yes. What is it? " Let me at least do this." It's such a great moment. But why did whoever was in charge of the editing felt the need to show us the scene that we saw 17 minutes before? (it's really 17 minutes and 40 seconds, I checked because I'm nowhere near sane). Did they thing we forgot about it in that time? It lessens the moment and it insults the audience. I hate it an unreasonable amount. ]

There are so many moments in this show that I love. The four mains are amazing, the confession scene by HoTae in the coffee shop floored me, the writing in the sand moment was delightful and the soundtrack is my favourite of the year.

Favourite Moment:

The one that was perfect

Our Dating Sim

What's there to say. There's nothing wrong here. They are delightful, I had a great time with the video game format at the end of the episodes, their chemistry was amazing, and Ki Tae is my favourite boy. Also, my second favourite soundtrack this year.

Favourite Moment

See you next time with Thailand I think.

Thanks for reading💜

[sandwitchstories]

I am normally not one for lusting after the bad guys. And I'm only still in the first season, but sweet tap dancing Christ Sukuna just DOES something to me.

So since I'm between meetings and my project is paused until the next meeting....

Have some more Sukuna brain rot! This one is actually tame for me and kinda soft and sweet. Hope you enjoy it!

If you would prefer to read it on AO3 click here

Summary: loving Sukuna came easy, even when it shouldn't have.

CW: Smut. MDNI. AFAB terms used to describe reader's sexy parts, Oral sex (male and female receiving), kinda stomach riding (is it really stomach riding when you're riding the mouth he can conjure on his abs?), it's also soft (the drabble, not Sukuna's cock)

People thought of Sukuna as a cold blooded, brutal, indiscriminate killer. And he was. His hands and body were soaked in more blood than you could even imagine. He had done bad things, horrible things. He knew it, didn't deny it, infact he loved to spur on others when it was brought up.

But you knew the other side of Sukuna. The one no one else before you had ever known. 

The Sukuna that held you so close while you slept, like he was concerned you would slip away. 

The Sukuna who would rouse you from your sleep with gentle kisses and nudges of his nose against your head when you would stir and cry out in your sleep from your nightmares. Murmuring words that you no longer had anything to fear. That you were safe. Nothing and no one would ever be able to hurt you again. 

You knew the Sukuna who screwed up his face while he willingly tried all of your different food creations.

You knew the Sukuna who made love to you. Sure he fucked your brains out, rearranged your organ, got you cock drunk and left you a fucked dumb mess in his arms in your joint bed. But he also made love to you- passionate kisses, slow deep thrusts, hands roaming your skin gingerly.

You knew the Sukuna who couldn't or wouldn't verbalize what he felt for you, but he showed you in a million ways.

He was blood thirsty. He was selfish. He was hellbent on many things. But one of them was loving and protecting you.

To the point that when you were on the verge of death, he pulled you into his innate domain, using his reverse curse techniques to help you and keeping you there. Not as a hostage. Not as a guest. But as the one and only person in all of his history that he could not stand to lose.

He was damned to hell when his time finally came.  Neither of you had any delusions about this. But while he was still here, while he was in your arms, you would make the most of every second.

You peppered his face with kisses to wake him up, chuckling at the grumpy growl he let out. You had no fear of him. You had no reason to. 

So you scooted down lower in the bed. Trailing kisses over his strong jaw, down his throat to his collar bone. You glanced up to see his eyes were still closed. You could tell he was awake but you'd let him keep his eyes closed. For now.

You pushed him onto his back, moving between his legs to keep kissing lower. You licked down the defined lines of his abs, grinning up at him when you saw him watching your through slits.

His large hand came to rest on the back of your head, cupping it. “I didn't tell you to stop, did I?”

You kissed his lower stomach as your hands slid up and down his strong thighs. You scooted back until you were at your destination.

You braced on one hand beside his hips as your hand began to stroke his hard cock. Standing tall and thick, weeping for you. You wrapped your hand around it and stroked it several times before licking across the head, letting out a small moan when his hips jerked in response. 

You looked up at him and smiled. “Good morning, handsome.”

Any reply he had turned into a gurgle in his throat as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, working more and more of it in, coating it with your spit and sliding it deeper. You started slacking your jaw to take as much of him as you could, his hand in your hair pressing you down, encouraging you to keep going. To take him deeper and faster.

You braced your hands by his hips as he took over with a hand fistws in your hair. His other hand cupped your cheek and you looked up at him, eyes glossy with want.

“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. A good morning it is,” he smirked before he gave your head a little nudge downward. “As you were.”

You smiled around his cock, resuming your motions and moaning around him. His taste and the feel of him hitting the back of your throat were overwhelming. Your pussy was so wet, longing to be filled.

As if he knew your very thoughts he pulled you off his cock, pulling you up his body until your were straddling his stomach, kissing him passionately. His hands gripped your hips, pressing you down. 

“It's my turn now, precious,” he grinned. 

You felt him unveil the mouth on his stomach that he generally kept hidden. You felt it's tongue sliding between your folds and shoving into your aching center. You cried out as it began to fuck your pretty little hole.

“That is precious, let me hear you.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, desperate to feel his lips against yours as his hands on your hips pressed you down further on the tongue prodding your center. Your hips rode it instinctively. Your clit rubbing against his skin. Your body shaking.

People thought of Sukuna as a cold blooded, brutal, indiscriminate killer. And he was. 

But he was yours. For better or for worse, you were with him to the end. Because you knew the true Sukuna. Who he truly wished he could have been when he met you. And in the end when he was destined to burn for eternity in flames  for all that he had done, you knew that your soul would be right there with him.

Because for better and for worse, he was yours.

[misc-obeyme]

Flufftober you say?? Barbatos is untaken you say??? Can I request MC taking care of him? The entirety of my mental, physical, and spiritual needs can be fulfilled by thinking of pampering the butler. Bonus points for him being kinda awkward and not knowing how to deal with it but very much liking it.

Helloooo!!

AH yes I loved this request so much lol. I am the exact same way, I want to take CARE of that BUTLER.

This one ended up a little longer than it should've because I am a fan of this scenario and got carried away. I can't help it, Barb needs to be pampered more.

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Barbatos

Warnings: none!

There weren't often days when Barbatos felt tired. He was reliably capable, always on top of everything that needed his attention. He kept things running smoothly, maintaining the Demon Lord's Castle, taking care of Diavolo, and ensuring that the work that needed to be done was completed.

Barbatos did it all day in and day out, never once showing his fatigue, never once faltering. Whenever Lord Diavolo needed him, he was there. Whenever any of his friends needed him, he was prepared. Barbatos was ready to step in at any time, for any reason.

And then there was you. How could a human like yourself see through so much of his mask? The knowing looks you sometimes cast his way let him know that you were aware of how much he worked.

Most of the time, Barbatos was able to redirect you any time you suggested he should take a break. You sometimes offered to do things for him and he would sometimes agree, letting you take care of minor things. It was a tactic to distract you, a way to let you feel like you were helping without giving you too much to do.

So when you arrived unannounced at the castle one evening, Barbatos was prepared to give you some menial task, something that needed doing, but that would essentially keep you out of his way.

You shocked him by calling him out on it.

"Not tonight," you said, arms folded, watching his face. "I'm not going to let you distract me this time. Did you think I didn't notice how you looked at RAD today? If you were anyone else, you would've been falling asleep in your seat."

Barbatos blushed and closed his eyes. "Forgive me, MC-"

"Don't even start with that," you said. "It's okay to be tired, you know. But you've been pushing yourself too hard lately. And I know exactly what you need."

Barbatos opened his eyes again, but his frown deepened. "What did you have in mind?"

You took his hands and smiled. Barbatos felt his heart flutter at the look in your eyes. Even though he was a little apprehensive about where this was going, he allowed you to lead him to his own room. He was a little surprised that you seemed to know exactly where it was. When had the castle become so familiar to you?

"Just wait here," you said, pushing him down gently so he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

You hurried away as Barbatos folded his hands in his lap. He kept his gaze on the large window, watching the treetops swaying in a gentle breeze while he waited for you.

Barbatos thought about how you knew the exact route to his room. Had you truly been here enough times to know its location so easily? Memories of your presence in the castle flooded his mind. You did come here frequently. Often enough that he couldn't quite pinpoint when you had become so familiar - not just with the castle, but with him, too. Enough to know when he was truly tired, a state he did his utmost to hide from everyone.

When you returned, you had Little D No 2 with you, following along at your heels. Even the Little Ds trusted you enough to simply do as you asked them. Little D No 2 was carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

You were carrying what appeared to be a plastic bucket full of water. Where you had obtained such a thing, he couldn't be sure, but Barbatos was on his feet in an instant, ready to help you with it.

"No, you sit back down!" you said.

Barbatos immediately sat back down. He closed his eyes and blushed again. He wasn't sure why he was so inclined to listen to your command without question.

You brought the bucket over to where he was sitting and he noticed a cord trailing off the end of it.

"What is this, MC?" he asked tentatively.

"It's a foot spa," you said happily. "I borrowed it from Asmo."

Barbatos watched as you plugged in the little plastic bucket full of water. You took the tray from Little D No 2 and put it on the bedside table.

"Thanks, No 2," you said, patting him. "You can go now."

No 2 saluted you and scurried out of the room.

Barbatos continued to watch as you knelt before him, next to the tub. He watched as you began to untie the laces on his shiny black shoes.

"MC," he said. He reached out, grabbing your hands, seemingly unable to let you continue. "What are you doing?"

You looked up at him and again he was struck by the look in your eyes. A tenderness he didn't quite know what to do with.

"You're always on your feet," you said. "And Asmo said this is a really great way to relax."

Barbatos squeezed your hands. He was sure you could see the uncertainty written on his features. For once, he didn't have the presence of mind to hide it.

You sighed a little and moved into a taller kneeling position, scooting forward to put yourself between his knees.

Barbatos blushed as you leaned forward and kissed him. You took your hands out of his and put them in his hair instead. You kissed his cheeks, his lips.

"It's okay," you said. "I want to take care of you. Won't you let me?"

Barbatos closed his eyes for a moment, to brace himself against the assault of love in yours. It seemed you had not only become a fixture in the castle, but in his heart as well. In the end, he knew he couldn't deny you.

"Very well," he said.

You smiled and sat back on your heels. Barbatos didn't protest again as you removed his shoes and socks, rolling up the legs of his uniform pants and placing his feet into the warm water of the tub. You pressed some buttons and suddenly he felt the tub massaging his feet.

It was such an unexpected feeling that Barbatos let out an involuntary sigh, his whole body sagging slightly as it let out a tension he didn't realize he was holding.

He was so distracted by it that he didn't notice you had moved until you were sitting on the bed beside him with a steaming teacup.

You handed the cup to him, then put your hand on his back, letting your fingers trail down his spine. He shivered beneath your touch.

"Isn't this nice?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. "You should really let me do this for you more often."

Barbatos hummed thoughtfully. He had been so uncertain about this plan of yours. It was his job to take care of you, not the other way around. And yet, he couldn't quite deny the sweet beating of his heart. He couldn't pretend to himself that he wasn't already thinking of future moments like this with you. And he knew that even if he felt awkward, even if it felt backwards, that he would always allow you to care for him this way.

Barbatos would make an exception for you because all he truly wanted was to see that tenderness in your eyes.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

[detonade]

Good morning and happy birthday to Isagi Yoichi. Rambling under the cut :

Hello hi uhh hey, yeah this is my very first post. It's been a while since i started editing panels from mangas i like and uh, i decided to do one for Isagi's birthday!!! I definitely could do better, but i had 2 days to finish this and this is the longest time i've ever spent on an edit let alone a personal project. I think i did alright. Maybe. Idk the standards (well i do, kinda, i think)

Like, the overall sillhouette of the first panel, especially Kaiser's arm position and hand is kinda wonky, idrk how to do Isagi's hair sprout and i think i failed him (on his birthday too??? I could've done better), shading's awful but i did consciously refused to learn how to shade soo, also the abibas, bastard munchen's sword thingy and Kaiser's rose tattoo is, lmao. Kaiser's hair is also a bitch fuck i forgot his rat tail.

But this edit is not for Kaiser!!! This is dedicated for Isagi Yoichi!!! This is for the blue lock mascot birthday!!! The egoist himself!!! I might fix it later though, haha, who knows. (God i hope i don't have any more motivation to do so, because i am exhausted)

I don't even have a banner yet, why am i this dedicated to Isagi, he's not even on my fav list??? (Might as well add him to be it at this point, because he's one of the major reasons i enjoyed a sports manga to it's fullest) Why is my first post about some blue man's birthday, my whole blog is a mess (of nothingness, because it's so empty) right now, the only thing you'll find is just, this

Anyway this year's april fools joke is actually me!!! I spent hours on this and i look at it and go 'eh'. I don't, know, if i'm, proud, of this, like at all??? For god sake i forgot Kaiser's rat tail and i don't feel like adding it now, this took me 16 hours, which is longer than actual art that i made from scratch???

There should be a version where Kaiser instead said 'How does it feel, to forgot to add my rat tail? ... You clown' to me. That'd fit too.

And uh once again, happy birthday to Isagi. I can't believe i mentioned Kaiser's name more than his in a post that's supposed to be about him and his birthday

[tsukkismoonlight]

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

"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.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for retroactively cheating on my partner?

Look, I know the title sounds kinda dumb, but it was kind of the best way I could sum it up. This also might get a little long. I'm just trying to give the context it needs that I feel sorta led me to the decisions I made.

I (22M) went on my first vacation with my partner (25F) last summer. Our vacation was to a relatively local spot not too far out of the city that's decently popular. We'd been dating at that point for around 18 months, though a lot of our dating had been done online cuz of the whole global pandemic thing. When the restrictions started loosening she started getting pushy about me moving in. This caused some tension between us, but it always kind of fizzled out. I still lived with my dad at that point. I'd never moved in with her, since I always wanna be really absolutely sure about these things beforehand, and I'll admit to viewing our week long vacation as sort of a trial run for maybe, one day, taking that step. All of this is just context for the fact that I was really serious about her. It was also the first real adult relationship that I'd been in.

If it was meant to be a trial for moving in, the vacation probably brought to the surface all the issues that I'd had with her. It was seriously a disaster. Our first day was great, but she spent a lot of the next two days taking calls from work and having some "alone time". I was really pissed off on the third day, waking up to ask if she wanted to go swimming, and having her tell me she was up for hours, and if I wanted to go I should've talked to her earlier. I suggested things we could do together, and we did eat lunch together and go to the pool, but she wasn't at all interested in doing anything else with me. After lunch, she sort of disappeared, so I went to the bar myself and considered texting her to join me. I got distracted talking to a guy, and soon enough we were super invested in the conversation together.

For context, I'm probably somewhere on the bi/pan end of things, but I grew up and continued living in a close minded small town. Especially last year, I was very much not out, not comfortable with people seeing me as in any way lgbtq adjacent, and still holding onto a lot more internalised stuff than I was willing to admit to.

This guy (who I'll call R) and I hit it off. We had lots in common, and he was fun to hang around with, and a good listener. I won't lie, I did find him pretty physically attractive, but naturally, it wasn't a huge issue. I've never had a problem being faithful, it's something I value over anything else in a relationship. When I spoke to my girlfriend about him later, she make some teasing remarks towards me about him being my "boyfriend". I was extremely sensitive about this, and snapped at her, to which she called me oversensitive and complained I never understand her jokes. I, being more mean than I should've been, told her she should try being funny, and she just called me misogynistic, which I resented, so I walked out, and came back later when I was sure she was asleep.

The next day, she shut me off completely, which I understood. I apologised, but I appreciated that she needed some space. I ended up meeting R at the pool again. We went for a hike, which took longer than expected, and made it home at dinner, which we got together. He insisted on paying in full, and we had a fun time, walking back to the hotel together. He told me he was leaving that evening, and I offered to help him pack. We got into his room, I helped him pack, we talked, traded socials, and, eventually, just out of the blue, I kissed him. I don't really know why, but it was nothing more than a chaste kiss, and I panicked and left.

The rest of the trip with my girlfriend was mostly us keeping to ourselves, and while we made up, there was definitely an atmosphere. The atmosphere just stayed. We broke up in October, for reasons unrelated directly to the vacation.

However, my issue is that from the vacation to when my gf and I broke up, R and I were dming each other. Objectively,it wasn't anything romantic or sexual, no nudes, nothing like that. We would just talk like we always did. We decided to try out dating in February of this year, and so far, its been great - he's genuinely a brilliant partner, we have far less conflicts, we sort things out quicker, and we generally seem to mesh much better than I did with my ex. But being with him has sort of taught me that what I valued him for when we were just talking is also what I mostly value him for now that we're dating - his good listening, his great sense of humour, the fact he just seems to get me. I could be overthinking things, but I can't shake this weird feeling that while I was with my ex I was somehow having all the trappings of another relationship whilst not indulging in the traditional markers of one. It just doesn't feel right to me. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[grumpybunny-edith]

"Hey, uh, can I --"

"Oh gosh, I remember you two!" called the girl from behind the counter of the Hot Topic. I could've sworn her teeth and nails looked a little sharper than last time we met. I could tell she was studying me too, her eyes dancing between my ears to catch any growth. Her eyes got caught on Anabella's wings too, but only for a second. "You got some jeans last time you were here, right? Did your ears get longer?

"Yeah, this is… kinda the only place where I can get stuff that accomodates a tail. Oh, and, um, they tend to do that, yeah," I blushed. About a month ago she had spent like a half-hour helping me find pairs that would fit. I took a deep breath, feeling my tail shake anxiously behind me. Ana giggled at that, which frustrated me, only making it wag more. Why bunnies had to have the most embarrassing tails on the planet was beyond me, but getting to hear it laugh was worth something. I was just thankful the cashier couldn't see.

"It's so shitty how few options y'all get," said the cashier like it had anything to do with her. I turned knowingly to Ana, who just ruffled her feathers and shook its head. "Anyway, can I help you find anything?"

I grinned, trying to hide my anxiety, and held a plastic bag out to her. "I, uh, need to make a return." She took the bag, opened it, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are these not the jeans you just bought like, three weeks ago?"

I blushed and tried to hide behind my ears. They're not quite long enough to do that yet - the best I could do was hide a bit of the blush creeping up from behind my mask. Being covid-conscious is cool, but really I just prefer to keep it covered so people hopefully fill in the gap with something a little more affirming than what's under it.

"Yeah, they just… Don't fit anymore." I gestured to the snug black sweats I was wearing. I had cut a hole in the back for my tail like I'd done for most of my pants, and turned to the side to show her. Ana would rib me for this choice later, calling me a show-off, but I swear it's not like that. That decision had nothing to do with how cute the cashier was.

"Ohh, because of the medication?" She said, "Or have you just been hitting the squats too hard?" I'd done a lot of wishing my face had the full-coverage fur some other girls have, and the amount of blushing I was doing wasn't making that wish go away. I wanted to look cool; I needed to look cool. That was at least fifty percent of the reason to even be in this shop in the first place.

"A little bit of both," I said sheepishly.

The girl behind the counter looked over her shoulder to nobody, then leaned in. "Technically, our policy doesn't allow returns after two weeks,' she started in a whisper. "But! That policy is bullshit and unfair and you seem cool, so no worries! It's important to be a good ally, or whatever."

After we got the returns handled, she helped me find some new ones, cut me a discount, and assured me I could return them whenever I needed to. At the rate I've been developing at, that's quite the relief. Anabella mostly floated around the conversation, speaking up only right as we crossed the threshhold to leave.

"You know she was staring at you constantly, right bestie?" it said matter-of-factly, adjusting a couple askew feathers. The task seemed to frustrate her quickly, and she never complained when I realigned them instead. Gave me something to do other than be a blushy mess.

"Yeah, people stare, whatever," I said quickly.

"You know what I mean." She shook its wings out and pulled them in.

"I'm gonna count it as another point for her being one of us," I chided, hopping along a step ahead of Ana. I wasn't not hoping to garner a little more attention.

"Sometimes people are nice and gay, Edith," said Ana, its voice like a hand waving my sentence away as she made the same motion with her actual hand and wing in tandem.

"And sometimes they're nice, gay catgirls. When have I ever been wrong?" My tail fluttered unconsciously - I was still getting used to it - and I crossed my arms triumphantly.

"When you decided to spend $200 on a bunch of pants that you knew wouldn't fit a month later," Ana giggled. My new ears were too good at picking up that noise; I nearly melted into it, but managed to stay strong.

---

Thank you @flightlessbirdgirl for letting me write with your character 🩶

[hersweetrevenge]

Hi there! <3 I re-watched Halloween Ends yesterday because I was upset and I needed Corey to save me, lmfao, and I wanted to ask you something that I've been wondering about. So, I have no way of getting the novelisation of the movie anytime soon, and you're kinda my only frame of reference for it; so I hope you don't mind me asking you this. When Corey is on his revenge killing spree, he kills those bullies at the mechanic shop. And Ronald is there. And then Ronald comes out to help the kids because of Terry. And only because of that. So, that makes me wonder... Did Corey plan on killing Ronald after he was done with the kids? Is that something that was elaborated on in the novel? Because I keep wondering about that, since Corey pretty much killed everyone that ever wronged him during that night, and Ronald was right there; but Corey didn't kill him (or didn't get the chance to, at least). Terry shot him by accident. But Corey killed his mom, of course. So, it'd make sense if he had at least planned on going after Ronald as well; even though he never actively wronged Corey (only passively, if we look at the way he just sat and watched while Joan abused Corey right in front of him, for example). But more so for completion's sake, y'know? They were on generally good terms, after all. I mean, in your latest post about the novel, you quoted that Ronald is "the loveliest thing" in Corey's life, according to Rohan. So, that makes me wonder all the more. OH, and... I fought with myself to include this point, but anyway- Corey takes the mask off when Ronald comes to help the kids, so that Ronald can see his face and know it's him. And it clearly disarms Ronald immediately and is the reason why Terry accidentally shot him instead of Corey, because he shielded him instinctively. Thus, I keep wondering if Corey meant for that to happen or if he took the mask off in order to assure Ronald that he wasn't actually in danger... It's such a seemingly insignificant thing that I'm thinking about far too much, but it's been bothering me that I don't know, and I was curious if the novel said anything about that at all, or if they just brushed over it there, as well. If they did, I'll just make up my own mind, of course, hdsfdjkfsk Anyway, I'm very sorry for rambling on about this, gosh! I love your blog(s) and everything you have to say about Corey and Rohan, you're awesome!!! Thank you for your detailed posts all the time, they keep me going! Take care! <3

ahhh hi !! thank you so much for sending this ask !! i love talking about this sort of thing more than anything lol and i’m sorry this took a little longer than i expected to reply, i was double checking like every ronald scene in the novel and cross-referencing that with behind-the-scenes details from making of, and re-watching the movie (i didn’t have to do that last one but like you, i needed emotional support from corey too 💗)

WARNING for discussions about (canon-typical) violence, murder, child abuse, abusive households, mentions of suicide and self-harm, and spoilers for the novelisation.

TL;DR – the novelisation does not elaborate on corey's intentions in any huge amount of detail, but it does provide some insight into a few different possibilities for ronald and corey’s relationship and what that would mean for corey's intentions.

general relationship

the novelisation actually gives some really specific details about the cunningham-prevo backstory, but also leaves a lot of aspects vague too.

joan married ronald when corey was 15, and she made it clear to ronald that he would "remain firmly on the sidelines when it came to corey's upbringing" which ronald "gladly" agreed to. so from the very beginning, ronald accepts he isn't going to be an active parent to corey, which maybe means he didn't believe he would do a good job anyway, or maybe he agreed it wasn't his place to parent corey in the same way joan does.

also, corey was already a teenager, he didn't need parenting in the same way a younger child would, which is partly why i think joan waited until corey was older to get remarried, because although being a single parent is difficult, she wouldn't want someone else in the picture as a father-figure for corey.

i don't personally see corey and ronald having a super close relationship, but there are multiple instances that show they are at least comfortable and familiar with each other (in line with what rohan said).

corey had a job before working for ronald, so we know ronald didn't have to give him a job. i hc that corey really wanted to do something stimulating instead of call centre work, and ronald agreed despite joan's grievances over it.

ronald doesn't seem too angry at him for being late, even though it is a regular occurrence (third time in a month).would he be so lenient on anyone who wasn't his stepson?

the gifting of the motorbike is a huge moment of course. that's a big gesture which, in the novelisation, also comes with some stilted bonding when ronald reminiscences that he used to "get laid [...], if you can believe it".

they have their united front moment over dinner when joan is trying to work a reaction out of them and neither gives her what she wants.

a smaller but still significant gesture is that corey uses dumbbells and a pull-up bar in his room to workout, which ronald bought him for christmas. very much feels like an attempt to help corey rebuild his self-confidence.

honestly though, rohan's comment about ronald being the "loveliest" thing in corey's life is probably right, especially as corey's life has been incredibly insular. as the town pariah with an abusive mom, his stepdad being cool about him being late for work is probably one of the best parts of his day.

but then on the other hand, there are moments which do not characterise their relationship very well, including multiple instances of ronald "ignoring" joan's abusive behaviour and not intervening.

to reiterate a previous point: ronald very willingly obliges joan's wishes of not "interfering" with corey's upbringing. her unfounded criticism and distrust of doctors, the school system and anyone other than her taking care of corey should have been a huge red flag (if, of course, any of that behaviour could have been inferred prior to their marriage).

ronald's passivity at being side-lined by his wife, allowing her to continue an unhealthy and unbounded relationship with corey.

when joan is berating corey for "sneaking around" and seeing allyson (the slap/kiss scene), she questions ronald as to whether he knew about the motorcycle, to which ronald stays completely out of it and doesn't answer her, despite her being furious with corey.

however it is a really difficult family dynamic to navigate, with so much nuance. i'm reluctant to say if ronald is a "good" or "bad" stepdad, or whether their father-son relationship is "good" or "bad", simply because their circumstances are so trying and complex. yes, joan has abused corey for a long time, but that abuse also extends to ronald in many ways too, resulting in him allowing (or enabling) joan's abusive behaviour in a flawed attempt to maintain the (toxic) status quo of the household.

did corey intend to kill ronald?

like i mentioned, there isn't any elaboration about corey's intentions in the novel, either through narration or extra dialogue. the scene happens almost exactly as it does in the film, with a few alterations and added background details. it's the surrounding details and plot differences that change my opinion.

i think movie!corey would have killed ronald if he had to. he knew ronald would be at home or at the yard, both of which were places he intended to go (to kill momma and the bullies). i'm not sure he had the same desire to kill ronald as he does the others, especially if he sees ronald in a good light, but to tie up loose ends he might do what is "necessary". i do find it very interesting that he lets ronald see his face though, and i can't decide if that is as a reassurance (he wouldn't kill ronald and ronald should know that) or because it just didn't matter (he's going to kill ronald so even if he sees corey's face, he won't be a liability to worry about).

however, i don't think novel!corey intended to kill ronald. in the novel, despite all of the extensive set-up of joan being abusive and corey's repressed desires to hurt her (and arguably ronald), there's no suggestion that corey planned to go back home as part of his spree and kill joan. if he wasn't going to kill joan after everything she did, i really don't think he'd have plans to kill ronald.

that's not to say there aren't implication in the novel that corey would hurt ronald too. there's a scene after the slap/kiss where corey can hear joan and ronald arguing about him, and once they've gone to bed corey gets a knife and stands outside their room, but ultimately doesn't go in. it isn't specified whether he wants to hurts just joan, or ronald as well.

michael's mask

ahh so when i was re-reading the scrapyard massacre in the novel to try and answer whether corey letting ronald see that it is him was a way of corey saying "you don't have to be scared of me" or even "you should be scared of me", i've come to a different conclusion about the mask.

“Who did this to you?” [Ronald] asked. “Him,” Margo said, pointing across the street. Ronald turned to find Corey twenty feet away on the other side of the fence, pulling Michael’s mask over his head. "Corey?" he muttered in disbelief.

the way the novel reads, i think that when corey puts the mask on in front of ronald, it's the first time he puts the mask on at all. if that is the case, it adds a whole other level to the transition between corey's kills as himself (or as the scarecrow) and his kills "as michael".

earlier, billy's sees "corey's shape wearing his prevo jumpsuit". it's fair enough that billy would assume it's corey without seeing his face, because they know that corey is there, but there's no mention of the mask either.

then, the way it describes ronald seeing corey put on the mask doesn't really indicate that corey was making sure ronald saw it was him. he's already "pulling on the mask" by the time ronald looks over at him; he wasn't waiting for ronald to look he was already doing it.

alternatively, the movie shows corey very deliberately stood there, waiting for ronald to see him and recognise him before he puts the mask on. i'm leaning towards it not being a gesture of reassurance but more of a last show of humanity to someone corey cares about -- "it's me, and i appreciate that you always treated me well, but this is the monster they've made me into".

in both versions, ronald jumps up to stop terry shooting corey. whether he was intending to shield corey or was just getting up to try and talk terry down, i think it says a lot about ronald as a character. he has been very passive this whole time, especially in scenes that take place at home, but in this moment he takes an authorative position to try and diffuse the situation. there's a scared kid with a gun, and his own stepson who he's starting to think might have done something awful, but this doesn't have to continue -- they can talk about it and calm down and whatever it is that has happened can be worked out.

[asksds]

Part 1 | Next

Previous events

((This page was pretty much exclusively asset-flipping from the Clip Studio Asset Store. Materials used: City | Sky | Rain, the latter two get regular use across the entire thing.))

((MOM HOLY FUCK it's finally here!! I'll ramble a bit about it under a Readmore - but this one is 17 pages so more than 2 weeks of updates to look forward to! Yay! Return back to regular asks is nearing!))

((This really was such a particular roadblock for me and I think I have pinpointed 2 big reasons as to why it took THIS long:

I'd been thinking about it and layouting it in my head previously for years pretty much, and if you're an artist you know that overblown expectations like that can rarely be met by reality. Not getting to execute it like I imagined was a little frustrating so that made it harder to work on it

Turns out I was just helplessly overworked/kinda burned out from my job lol. The only time I could really get down to work on this was when I had any longer vacation, and we had a gigantic project at work spanning like 2-3 years that really went into overdrive last year with me pulling 10-hour-days for months basically. That left me no time and energy to really do anything else in the evening, and I'm pretty sure that impacted me until now since I could only finish this entire thing when I had another vacation and finally like...felt relaxed enough to draw?? and have fun doing it?? and have IDEAS?? It felt like I hadn't had ideas or motivation in years so that was a nice surprise, but also abolish jobs man I just wanna draw OCs and their shenanigans...

I'm really glad it's done, it did contribute to my posting anxiety to be honest where I felt bad posting anything because in my head I was like :( People will get mad if I do something else instead of work on this (ridiculous but you know how brains get. Like mate I drew a bunch of things for con prep and got too guilty to post any of it aaah) + for dramatic effect I didn't want to spam too many other asks inbetween which is why that grinded to a halt. Either way, it's done, it might not be perfect, it might show that it has spanned a very long time via some style changes between panels but what matters is that it's finished and I'm happy with it! If you read this (kudos) hope you enjoy, hope you have a great day and upcoming week, stay safe and hydrated in this hellweather, and remember the joy of creation because it's what makes life worth living!!))

[aahsokaatano]

AU where, for whatever reason, Dick comes back to Gotham one night (he doesn't want to be here, he doesn't want to even THINK about here) and he runs into Jason, who is in the process of stripping his motorcycle for parts (which is admittedly pretty ballsy, he'll give the kid that much)

He gives Jason a talking to, which is mostly bad jokes and some vague "you don't want to end up like me" things, and then gives the kid some money and heads back to Blüdhaven and tries, like most things in Gotham, to not think about him any more

Except

Except Jason took "you don't want to end up like me" as a challenge and manages to follow him (though it does take him longer on the shitty bicycle he pulled out of a dumpster a couple weeks back, the one with a bent front wheel so he has to steer to the left of where he actually wants to go)

And, okay, it does take a little while for him to figure out exactly where Nightwing Discowing went bc he's very careful, but Jason is very patient and very sneaky and a couple weeks after that trip to Gotham, Nightwing comes back to home base and finds this scrappy, kinda familiar looking kid posted up on his doorstep

"well?" the kid asks "am I good enough for you now?"

Oh. Crime Alley accent, pride past his ears, determined jut of his chin - this is that kid who tried to take apart Dick's bike in that alley.

"what are you doing here?"

"followed ya" he says casually, like Dick isn't extremely difficult to follow "didn't answer my question"

"it doesn't make sense"

Jason is frustrated because he has a hard time explaining his thoughts to other people - some things just make sense and he can't help it if it doesn't make sense to everyone else - but he tries. "It was a test, right? You told me I didn't want to be like you 'cause I'm just... just some fuckin' stupid street kid, and you're Nightwing. So it was a test to see if I had the chops. An' I followed you across the river, an' figured out your base, an' now I'm here. So? Am I good enough?"

And Dick - Dick feels like an asshole because that's not at all what he meant, but he's been that too-smart-for-your-own-good, too-stubborn-to-hear-no, too-focused-to-be-stopped kid. And he feels like he should have seen it in the alley in this kid and done better (he couldn't have, of course, because Jason barely said ten words in the alley, let alone explained any of his thoughts, but Dick takes on guilt the way a sinking ship takes on water)

"come on," he says instead of 'go home, you don't want this, you don't need this, you could have so much more than THIS' and leads Jason inside and he gives him the leftover takeout in the fridge and shows him to the bathroom and leaves out a pair of sweats that absolutely drown the kid in fabric, but at least they're clean and warm and the kid is safe and -

Oh fuck is this what Bruce felt when he brought Dick back to the Manor?

Fuck

[48787]

I go on tumblr so I can look at one single post for upwards of 5 hours to make tags 3 people will read and yet I still am in full belief that I am getting more out of this than I ever did out of any of the college courses I took to pursue a "career" I am no longer simply surviving, but I have managed to realize and now actualize the skills I actually wanted to hone for my entire life and while I am not applying those skills to anything that far reaching just yet, the fact that I feel compelled to apply them anywhere at all is what matters. Once I figure out how to work sleep into this equation world domination is inevitable. I wish I had the ability to do research into reducing the amount of sleep needed for the human body, perhaps eliminating the need entirely so it becomes something only done when rest is truly needed, however I would only have the ability to do said research once I figure out how to cast curses and hexes so I can add a "This can never be used to increase the monetary value of any party ever at all for ever and ever amen" clause that makes anyone who even considers using it to schedule more hours for less pay head explode. It also makes anyone who schedules themself for more hours for the same amount of pay would probably also have their head explode too I think? Maybe if they schedule themself for more hours but for more pay, and at the larger expense of the company's income, they'd be fine? Maybe you could make your boss' head explode by asking for more hours, it's technically their decision... Hmm.. I think I should probably think about the fine print on that, the angelic "Just dont do it lol" way of doing things only really works when you're trying to be vague or ambiguous for a reason... Lucifer might have some pointers, but I hear he's pretty busy. Maybe he can recommend an agent or lawyer? Maybe im so bad at going to sleep because i need to figure out how to make sleep more in line with my weird ambitions.... If the lucid dreaming stuff if real, I suppose I could use it as a time to flesh out very hazy and rough mental concept art.... Eeh... I don't really like putting much stock in dreams... I suppose it's mostly an agency thing, maybe lucidity is what might fix that? Maybe I could more directly confront the world building concepts in my dreams, not in a "What does this mean for my subconscious" kinda way because fuck that, but in a, like, "Oooo you are in a spooky maze" "What is the maze made of?" "Uh... I don't know... stone?" "Like rough stone, cut stone, marble?" "Mmmarble... Yeah.. M--" "Who built the maze?" "Just do the fucking maze, this is supposed to be scary" "Surely someone built the maze, surely they had a reason for building the maze. I can't even know why I'd want to escape the maze until I learn why I'm in it or what's outside it. You have to answer my questions or I'll wake up right fucking now." kinda way. It should be fine to make those threats to myself? I don't think I'd take it super personally, I think I'd get it. I'd probably want to do the world building for myself anyway. I do wish I didn't have to sleep though. I wish I could just think of a good enough concept for a story about not needing to sleep that I'll reach some hidden truth and be able to make the concept work for real... Maybe I'll inspire someone to invent to torment nexus for me!! Man-made horrors of my comprehension!!! I think I'd be honored...

[redysetdare]

yeah I'm talking abt trans hair. At least, my experience with being trans and my connection to my hair.

I've been someone who has grown up with long hair my entire life. it's fairly common for anyone who was decided to be a girl by the people around them. I was offered to have my hair cut short a few times but it was only ever bob cuts - basically feminine short. never short-short.

When i got older and realized I was trans, my hair became incredibly dysphoric to me. People said how pretty it was long and i grew to hate it. to me my hair being long is what made me a girl. I thought - naively - if my hair got cut I'd be a boy. Just like how all those girls in the movies could do. They'd cut their hair and be seen as a boy.

But I was scared. I feared not looking good with short hair. I feared people would laugh or I'd hate it. It took me years to build up the courage to finally ask for a haircut.

But i did finally ask and I showed my mom the picture for the hairstyle i wanted. We went to the hair stylists and they cut my hair. It was short short but... it was still feminine. Now I don't fully blame this on anyone - i wasn't out of the closet yet. I had shown a picture of a more feminine model that showed what style i wanted. But to be honest feminine or not it was short. It was short and I felt good about myself for the first time in years. I looked in the mirror and i could smile at what I saw.

I struggled a bit with style for a while, unsure of what I wanted my hair to look like. I wanted low maintenance but for it to still look how I wanted. At some point I was left with a long gap between my hair getting cut. In fact it's been over a year since I got it cut... I've moved since then and I'm worried about what I want. I mean, obviously cutting my hair doesn't make me look any more like a boy. I'm not on hormones. I dn't dress "boyishly". My hair still causes me dysphoria but now my dysphoria has shifted targets. when it realized that my hair can't change how people perceive me it moved to something else.

So i've been stuck without a hair cut for a year+. Partially because my money is short so i don't have the ability to spend something on a pricey hair cut. partially because I haven't had time to go find a hair stylist (ik barber shops exist but i don't think they'd accept me...). partially because I don't know what i want. Whats the point of going to a hair stylist and paying a ton of money I don't have just to get a hair cut i might not even like. so my hair has grown out. Which yeah, caused me dysphoria at first...until I realized that longer hair makes me look like the characters I have gender envy for. men with long hair are some of the top gender envy for me. So i drew my sona with long. I drew it to try and ease my dysphoria. to show how fun styling longer hair could be. and now I've grown to kinda like it? Sure, i still feel a bit dysphoric but I've been putting it in a mini ponytail lately and it feels nice :) I feel nice.

so when someone mentions how my hair being long is why I'm being misgendered.... think you can understand why that probably hurts a lot more than it likely would with anyone else.

ofc i don't blame this person for not knowing. It's my experience after all. but it still hurt. it hurt a lot being told what my dysphoria had told me so many times. that my hair was why i was seen as a girl. I was becoming happy with my hair and it set me back a bit. I started wondering if i should get a hair cut again even though I was happy with my hair as is...

of course I'm back to being happy about it again. It's easier to push through the dysphoria when you've already done it once before. (also helps that a lot of cis guys at my work have long hair)

tbh idk what the point of this post is. Maybe that trans peoples connections with their hair can be complicated and maybe saying how someone looks is the reason they get misgendered is kinda fucked up - especially when you don't know what the person wants /is comfortable with / is happy with /ect. maybe don't add to peoples dysphoria because you think you're giving them "advice" (quotations because telling ppl they don't pass enough is not advice)

idk. hair is complicated. my experience with hair is complicated. I'm sure a lot of trans peple have complicated feelings about hair. maybe it shouldn't just be a black and white "cut it if ur transmasc and grow it out if your transfem"

[dausy]

pattern art to get in the fall spirit and take up space while I do a life update. I've accomplished a few things, books, video games and then some life issues.

So easy stuff first I guess. I finished one of my goals of reading a Harry Potter book in spanish. I read the first book. It took me all year because it was a major brain fart/humbler. Reason why I chose HP was because its made for kids and it was familiar. I did NOT understand everything but luckily digital devices come equipped with a translation dictionary. About halfway through the book is when I had my first notebook with my art made. Whenever I get to book 2 my plan is to write down words that I had trouble with. There were 3 words in the first book that showed up frequently that kept confusing me but I didn't write them down haha. So I cant tell you.

I have a rant about another book I'm reading, Ill wait til I'm done

--games--

Secondly I finished playing Horizon Zero Dawn and Horizon Forbidden West back to back. That took me..ages..when I first turned on HFW I was like "oh..thats the map..this is tiny" and well somehow I put double the man hours into the sequel than the original game with the DLC. Think I finished HZD in 50 or 60 hours after completing everything that game had to offer. 100% completion. HFW Id been playing for 90 and I didn't complete everything and just kinda said "eff this" and finished it. I like open world games. I'd play a third game, probably wont get to a dlc I dont generally do those on purpose.

My issue is though is I still don't like the character designs. I think HZD was the superior game. I kind of like the doom and gloom apocalypse back story and I like the idea of our modern life being somebody elses ruins. I like that. But everything else, the over story, the character designs..its like putting a jak and daxter style design on a serious story of The Last of Us. It didn't go. We needed to either choose if we were being serious or not. The sequel I enjoyed the gameplay but I think it suffered from being a sequel. Its getting too big for its britches. I dont like the space stuff. I dont like the immortality stuff.

so not my favorite game of all time but I'd play another.

I was playing disney dreamlight but I think Ill move on here soon to Ooblets to fill in time.

---

Lastly life.

--

My grandma died. It was not unexpected especially after seeing her for the final time a few weeks ago and I could tell she wasn't going to make it much longer. The thing that kinda bothered me or reassured me the most is..atleast gramma wasn't aware of what was going on. She's told me to my face how much the death of her siblings years before traumatized her and how she's afraid of dying. Really afraid we're all going to hell. If she could see herself on her deathbed she would absolutely freak out.

seeing her at the viewing again, was kinda sad. She just looked uncomfortable. People say "atleast now they're at peace" nah, gramma looked just as uncomfortable as when I saw her the other weekend. Its amazing how my brain remembers her from a few years ago and that viewing-experience just did not look like the gramma that I knew.

its just another phase of life coming to an end.

we've had it rough this past year. Husband lost his dad, we lost our cat at the same time and I've lost 2 grandmothers.

My work called me off the entirety of last week so I havent worked in over a week. Todays my first day back and I was asked to come in late. So I'ma have like..no paycheck..but whatever I guess.

so anywho I havent managed to be creative. I did manage to draw a bit yesterday so I may paint something but I dont know think it'll meet any sort of standard or expectation.

[darknessonthehill]

I think since I started living on my own or even before (but certainly for years now) I have for the most part not have felt like I have a good selection of clothes, like, I would have some queer stuff, but most of it bought in the first year or two of realizing I'm trans and seemingly not that many ok-looking combinations, or I would only have a couple pairs of work jeans a lot of the time and not that many tops and, since I would buy things mostly from thrift shops, I would go through them pretty fast sometimes due to my work being physical and me needing to do some stuff while kneeling/bending over some of the time, and going out to buy more clothes when I am not made to do so by circumstances has sometimes been hard as with other stuff.

Add to all that the fact I have not had a washing machine at my place, so with my irregular access to one I would have a smaller part of my wardrobe usable at most times than most people, I have always had this thought in the back of my mind that, whenever I'm able, I should go out to buy more clothes and that I probably don't have enough of whatever item.

It wasn't that surprising when a month or so back I finally for the first time in over a year for sure managed to get through all my unwashed clothes and discovered I had close to 40 pairs of socks, since I knew I had been buying them a lot to offset not having clean ones. My dad also died around that time and I got some clothes that were his/meant for him, which was nice, but kinda like whatever, and so it took me until today, when I was putting away my clean clothes and decided to reorganize my wardrobe and realized that I actually have eight pairs of pants and 15ish tshirts and 10+ femme outfits (with some stuff reused but still) and am almost out of space in my wardrobe, to actually consider the possibility that I have a good amount of clothes now.

I am having a wierd time right now, thus this diary entry of a tumblr post, because I know that logically this is a lot of stuff, but I have felt for such a long time (and at least some of the time correctly) that I don't have enough and that this is another facet of my life where I have failed and am continuing to fail, especially since it is not as if I dislike shopping for clothes (it is pretty fun) or would not have the funds for some thrift shopping normally and because I would repeatedly, when I would know I would have the time, would plan to go shopping and most of the time fail to do so or when I did manage, I would only go to one or two stores and get a couple of things and not have the grander/more comprehensive exploration that my ADHD-ish brain thought should happen and now, now I still haven't done any large gesture, have not spent more than an hour on this at a time for years, yet, almost inexplicably, now I ostensibly have enough and technically no longer have to feel obligated to get more.

And, sure, on the queer side there could be some improvements, like, my dress collection is pretty bad but this feels way too wierd for such smaller distinctions. I have physically gone over the stuff I have, but still it doesn't feel true, it still feels unsafe, like I should be paying attention so I don't run out of stuff. Like, fuck, I hope I can make myself realize this stuff in a reasonable timeframe, because apparently this is a big deal for me, since I'm having a (super rare for me) cry over making a tumblr post about having enough clothes.