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firefly--bright · 2 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧!

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern smau.

⁀➷ introducing ; apartment 201 !

⁀➷ jean boy!

has vinyls stacked up against a wall.

proud plant dad (after many failed attempts at it)

went to one (1) tame Impala concert and made it his entire personality for two whole years.

an "old soul" is what he likes to call himself, but in all reality he likes to grumble alot. regardless, after his friends make their way into his heart, there's no getting out. he's not the best at uttering his words out loud in a way that makes sense, but his love is ever-present. its everywhere until you're covered with it, littered in the ground and in the laundry that he complains about, in the takeout he buys, in the little lamp he keeps on so that Connie doesn't hurt himself when he reaches home late.

⁀➷ constance springer!

has a meme account on Instagram that he takes way too seriously

"I'm a...niche mirco celebrity.. influencer. i want free nachos in this fine establishment."

second year set and film design major in University of Paradis

chronically online but not in a creepy way, he swears

almost failed 8th grade because he "forgot" about the exams

self-proclaimed aux guy in every road trip. despite all his jokes, it's easy to love him. he's light of the party, and even if he's not the smartest academically, he's smart emotionally and offers surprisingly good advice, and will always be determined to put a smile on everyone's faces despite any adversity.

⁀➷ sasha braus!

won a hot dog eating competition in 7th grade against grown adults. the trophy rests in her closet at all times.

if Connie is the life of the party, she's the encore.

hoards twice posters and photocards. she made Connie, marco and jean listen to it and now they're hooked onto it too, although not as much as her

doesn't know how to spell, barely uses any punctuations ever

once she starts talking, it's really hard for her to stop. but even during her rants, youd find her making a note of anything and everything. nothing can escape her watchful eye, and she'd offer you a helping hand even if her own hand was chopped off. lives and breathes in the kitchen and believes that the kitchen is the heart of the home. her love is radiant and within your grasp at all times, not leaving, always patient.

⁀➷ marco bodt!

has a dog (golden retriever) named polo. if it wasn't obvious.

has always loved and been surrounded by animals. doesn't like crowds but he loves hustle bustle because it feels like home to him

coffee addict

dad friend. always has bandaids, aspirin, and gum in his pocket.

his glasses are always smudged with fingerprints, jean has to remind him to clean them

very intuitive. knows other people's emotions and behaviours probably more than he knows his own. loves his friends in the deepest and purest form, his comfort lies in spending a night in with them. his love is like when your favourite song comes on in an unexpected setting - you didn't know you needed it but it would put a smile on your face nonetheless.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ previous episode! (introducing; the homeless) ➷ next episode ; pilot!

⁀➷ fic playlist ➷ fic visuals

⁀➷ series masterlist ➷ main masterlist ➷ enter my taglist!

⁀➷ taglist ; @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @cherrypieyourface , @jeanscremebrulee

line dividers by @peachesofteal

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein x reader #aot #jean kirstein x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #fireflys rambles #jean kirschtein #marco bodt #marco bodt x reader #sasha braus #sasha braus x reader #connie springer #connie springer x reader #aot smau #attack on titan smau #snk smau #shingeki no kyoji smau

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firefly--bright · 2 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧!

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern smau.

⁀➷ episode one ; pilot !

➷ episode soundtrack.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

➷ Sunday, 12:12 p.m.

"-and the commute was just too much. I'd have to get up at, like, five just so I could reach campus on time, you know, and most days- most days I couldn't go back home after working at Smith's for so long, so I just ended up crashing at my ex's place, or sometimes at my best friends place." you say, your hands articulating your point, gesturing in the air as you sat on a couch chair that really had no job being this comfortable.

you smile nervously at your hosts. they seemed nice enough, you suppose, but you felt like they were seizing you up, like an animal up for adoption, trying to weigh all of the pros and cons of living with you.

the one on the far right of the couch - you think his name is Connie, you're not sure - has his forearms leaning on his knees, observing your every move, every blink with a slight squint in his usually large eyes. the one in the middle - had you seen him somewhere? - was doing the exact opposite of his room mate. his back was supported by the back of the couch, sitting himself as comfortably as he could, arms crossed over his chest. he had a blank look on his face and you noticed his jaw clenching and unclenching while you spoke. his eyes didn't leave you. from the moment you had stepped into the apartment with a small box of donuts from your shift at the café, he had not stopped looking at you. you were sure he probably didn't have eyelids because you hadn't seen him blink even once.

the only person that provides you any sort of comfort was the one sitting next to him, wearing a light brown sweater that covered his arms up till his elbows, the sleeves bunched up. he smiled gently at you, nodding at your ten minute long rant and if you knew more about him then maybe you'd assume that he was trying to calm you down.

"that sounds tiring," he says. you wave your hand infront of your face with a shrug and a smile. "it wasn't that bad until the start of this semester with the workload and stuff," you say.

the other two hadn't said anything. honestly, it would've been better if it were just you and marco talking, that way you would've been considerably less nervous.

the one on the far right took a breath, finally speaking up. "can you cook?" he asks. that's the first time you heard his voice, and it's a little surprising, but not as much as his question.

"Connie-" marco starts, but Connie jumps to his own defence. "what? she should be able to take care of herself!"

the one in the middle - you assumed he was jean - rolled his eyes. "we all know that's not why you're asking." he mutters, but it's loud enough for everyone to hear. "is that really all you think of me?" Connie retorts, putting a hand on his chest. marco raises his hands placatingly, trying to say something but it's, again, cut off by jean's (you wonder if anyone in this apartment has the freedom of speech), "I try not to think about you at all."

"after everything we've been through?"

"we haven't been through any-"

"what happened to being together until the end?"

"guys, please, not no-"

"we are not engaged,"

you clear your throat. the bickering is not bothering. if you really think about it, it reminds you of home, of a life before college. it's a little nostalgic, but you have to get back to your shift at the café in an hour and you really didn't have the time to allow yourself to be entertained by this.

"the apartment is great," you say. the three of them look at you, stopping all bickering immediately. jean clears his throat as well. "thanks." he says.

"how do you know she meant it for you, jean?" Connie says. there's a small smirk on his face, the one that you have when you willingly mess with noor.

he struck gold - jean clenches his jaw tighter, if that was possible and it strikes gold again.

you know where you've seen jean. it's not really a one off thing, but you know you've spotted him across campus, carrying a coffee that you made earlier that day, sporting a hat over his ashy blonde hair. you'd spotted him at the bus, sitting in the back seat, with his head propped up against the window, headphones on his ears. you spotted him in the graphics studio, clicking the mouse and tapping on the keyboard of the spare computers as you sat far behind him, glancing at what he was working on.

you didn't mean to be a stalker, really, but it was inevitable that the two of you crossed paths considering the fact that you had a couple overlapping lectures in the same parts of the uncomfortably large campus.

jean was the beautiful stranger.

you blinked, keeping that information locked up in your head. what he didn't know wouldn't kill him, and he certainly did not need to know about how you'd been trying to seek him out on campus, trying to see a familiar face that would bring you any sort of ground over the past few months.

glancing at marco - who looked at you apologetically - you looked back at the other two, still bickering. marco shook his head, getting up from the couch, inaudibly prompting you to do the same, leading you to the kitchen.

you weren't kidding when you said the apartment was great - it was spacious enough to feel roomy but not cold and empty. every corner felt like it had been lived in, like it had been breathed on, like no cleaner could ever remove the marks of the smudged fingerprints on the walls. you hadn't had the time to decorate your own apartment, if it could even be called that, making the space a little less livable than you'd have expected from yourself.

"I'm sorry about them," marco starts, looking at you with the same expression he had been sporting the entire time you were there. you laughed softly and shook your head. "it's okay. I'm used to it." you say.

marco doesn't press further, smiling gently himself. "I'm glad you liked the apartment," his eyes glance over behind him towards the narrow hallway that leads to everybody's rooms, "we don't know how many more room mate applications we'll get, but you're a pretty strong candidate up till now. considering, you know, you're our first one." he says. his wording makes you feel like it's supposed to; a business interaction, and you're reminded again, how this isn't your home. how you're a stranger to them and even if their banter made you look back to earlier years, your rambling probably hadn't done the same with them.

you nod, smiling politely. "thank you. im glad you think so."

➷ Sunday, 7:59 p.m.

"oh my god a dog? how old is he? do you have pictures?" noor asked, her brown eyes lighting up with excitement. you laugh a little, shaking your head at the questions.

"i don't have pictures cause apparently the dog - polo, by the way - is being babysat by Marco's friend. said he didnt want to have polo running around cause he thought I'd get overwhelmed." you said, shrugging, "he did ask me if I was allergic, though."

"wait, so, that's it? besides freckles they didn't even talk to you? Baldy asked you if you could cook and emo mullet barely spoke to you? that's it?" noor asked, taking a sip of the coffee you had given her. the two of you were waiting for the bus, the sun having dipped a little more than an hour ago.

"i mean... I don't blame them. they barely even know me." you say, rolling your shoulders to try and get rid of the tension in them.

noor sighed. "yeah, but that's the point. they're supposed to get to know you and make sure you're not, like, a creep."

"I'm a creep, I'm a wei-" you start singing, making noor join you with a laugh. "I'm a weirdo," she sings back, her tone changing down with the "o" to mimic the infamous Radiohead song.

you share a laugh, shaking your head. "I'm just glad that something's happening, you know? like I did something to move out. I tried, and that counts."

noor nods decisively. "yep. also this coffee fucks, what is it?"

you smile widely, proud of your own creation. "it's a new thing I tried. strawberry goes surprisingly well with coffee," you say, "and cinnamon."

"god it's amazing. you have to open your own cafe one day,"

"i mean I didn't invent the thing,"

"still." she insists, opening the lid of the cup a little to smell it, humming afterwards.

she didn't have to do this. waiting with you at the bus stand wasn't even supposed to be in her routine, but it somehow got added there without your permission. her dorm was walking distance from the campus, near her department, too. she called it a great deal, and you agreed, so she really didn't have to wait for the bus with you. but she did.

you were glad to have her. you didn't have anyone besides her, in all honesty. her shoulder had always been comforting and warm to lean on, ever since you had met. she left you with smiling lips and a full heart at the end of the day. senior year of highschool hadn't been the kindest to either of you, so you made up for it by being kind to eachother, and for noor, you were sure that it came easy. it was easy to believe that she could replace the sun because she had replaced the sun for you. she replaced all meaning of the world by just holding your hand.

and the world agreed, you were sure, because her smiles attracted so many wonderful people. some not as much, but she seemed to attract beauty everywhere she went. she became it.

sometimes, when you were actively trying not to think about how cold your bed felt, you thought about how you would not be surprised if she talked to you less. not in the sense that you didn't trust her, of course not, but in the sense that she could have the world in the palm of her hands. why would she elect to hold your palm after that offer? and trying not to think about this only led to thinking more about this, more about everything. but now was not the time to do so.

no, because you had things to look forward to. because noor was sitting beside you, despite the cool late january air with the warmth she provided. she smiled as she told you about how she had a film assignment that she was looking forward to because she had so many good ideas. you leaned back and listened to her like your life depended on it. maybe it did.

➷ Sunday, 8:17 p.m.

"got a new applicant." jean said, swallowing the bite of breakfast-for-dinner eggs that marco had decided to share. the latter stood near the stove, one hand on his hip and the other in the air with a spatula, waiting for the pancakes to cook, checking for bubbles near the edges like Jean's mom taught him to. marco hummed. Connie leaned over to jean, peeking at his phone, trying to see who texted about the apartment. jean furrowed his brows with a slight scowl, hiding his screen from Connie's eyes, who pouted dramatically.

jean tried not to laugh at his expression, but a small smile slipped out anyway. "his names floch," he said, not acknowledging Marco's little whoop of excitement after flipping his first non-burnt and perfectly golden brown pancake.

"ugh. i know him. hes such a know-it-all." Connie says, waving his fork in the air. marco sets the plate of almost all burnt pancakes (except for the one) in the centre of the table. "don't speak with your mouth full, con." he says.

"you think everyone's a know-it-all. have you considered that maybe you're a little dumb?"

"I'm expectionally smart." he says, sitting up straight.

there's a small beat of silence.

"did you mean exceptionally, connie?" marco asks, pausing from cutting his pancake.

another beat of silent.

jean snickers.

Connie rolls his eyes. "whatever the word is. i think we should choose the girl that came in today, if you guys even care."

jean glances at him from his plate. "we should decide that after going through the applicants."

marco nods. "yeah, we should give it atleast a week or two."

Connie sighs. "okay, but Im pretty sure she's the one."

jean drops his fork on the table, having finished his plate and leaning back into the chair. "seriously? you didn't even talk to her-"

"i did!"

"you asked her if she knew how to cook and she didn't even answer. how have you already made up your mind?"

Connie shrugs. "she tolerated our argument."

"it was barely an argum-"

"not a lot of people can do that." Connie says.

"you guys can get loud," marco says.

"that's what she said." Connie mumbles with a small laugh. jean smiles, covering it up with his glass of water.

"she did seem pretty nice. but we should still wait for other people. who knows?" marco shrugs, "maybe we'll find someone better."

"well, whoever you two decide on, just know my vote's going to be a no if it's not her." he says, leaning his head on his palm, his elbow against the table.

"why are you rooting so hard for a person you barely know Connie? just because she's pretty?" jean asks, equal parts curious and suspicious.

Connie smirks at a joke jean fails to understand. "sasha knows her, I'm pretty sure. her name sounded familiar but then I called sasha about it, and she said she works at Smith's with her."

"so basically you're on her side because of neo-nepotism?" marco asks with a small smile.

"i dont know what that means, but yeah, probably!" Connie agrees, a wide smile gracing his face. "besides," he continues, the smile now turning into a small smirk, "jean thinks she's pretty."

jean sits up straight, his jaw clenching. "when the hell did I say that?"

marco sighs, gulping his food down.

"literally just now when you asked me why I was rooting for her. you admitted that you thought she was pretty." Connie says. jean really thinks he's fucking with him. some times, jean can't tell what goes on in his friend's head, a gap that's bridged by sasha and marco. but the former is currently in her own small apartment with her boyfriend, and the latter is too busy shoving food into his mouth and avoiding jeans eye.

jean sputters. "i think all women are pre-"

"okay slut," Connie mutters.

"I'm not a slut, will you stop calling me that I am not a common who-"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

⁀➷ previous episode ! (introducing; apartment 201) ➷ next episode ; the news !

⁀➷ fic visuals ➷ fic playlist

⁀➷ series masterlist ➷ main masterlist ➷ enter my taglist!

⁀➷ taglist ➷ @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @cherrypieyourface

⁀➷ a/n ➷ first chapter done!! 832982 more to go. i have a lot of Stuff Planned for this fic I just hope I don't get swept up with too much work (they say, with a pile of assignments to be completed). i hope you guys liked this :) I'm very sorry for any blurry images, my phone's screenshotting method is buggy.

⁀➷ comments, likes, reblogs are always appreciated!

line dividers by @peachesofteal

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