#deadline annie

[dismissivedestroyer]

'Following an unfortunate accident, 13 year old Eleonora James, from the small town of Elysium Creek, is ran over by a schoolbus, and ends up in a comatose state. Now stuck between life and death, Eleonora finds herself trapped in the Catacombs, the place where people end up after they pass away, and will have to look for a way to come back to the living realm, despite all the odds being against her.'

ALWAYS SO ANXIOUS POSTING DEADLINE CONTENT OVER HERE I SWEAR. So yeah, another illustration, that's most likely gonna be the cover art for Volume 1, and a small synopsis of the general plot. If I had to give a vibe to this comic, it would be "Gravity Falls meets Owl House meets Amphibia meets Undertale meets The Horrors™". Hooray. Festive.

Other attempt at a scan:

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

The OG cast at the Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire World Premiere (via Deadline)

[mikeystrawberry]

Already changed the sketch for Teeny a little bit but get ready for this tomorrow

[mai-mai-lim]

so i uhhhh probably have gotten into a game a little too much and my brain doesnt feel like drawing so have a doodle of rupert and henry tension, which is also a redraw from this doodle from 2020:

[whoblewboobear]

The way I had every intention to be productive this weekend and did none of it bc I know I’m in for some shit the minute I walk into that stupid office

[ipierrealism]

Sono sempre più convinto che non sia un problema generazionale dei boomer ma che semplicemente più si invecchia più diventiamo testardi come muli arroccati sulle nostre posizioni che ormai abbiamo reso parte fondamentale della nostra identità.

Tutto questo per dire che se ho ragione e succede, ammazzatemi.

[gaysessuale]

è il momento della any% speedrun di adattamento al doppiaggio perché la deadline è domani e io in un mese e mezzo non ho fatto: un cazzo

[nekofantasia]

Atelier games are kinda gay

[dduane]

Hey! Just wanted to drop in and let you know that my Star Trek Book Club is reading our way though Spock’s World right now! I love the Horta crewmember so much. Would be cool to hear any thoughts you have on the book, as its writer!

Sure!

Work on the book started while @petermorwood and I were still roaming around the UK, trying to figure out where we wanted to live.

It was around then that Pocket Books decided that the success of their first Star Trek novels as paperbacks suggested they might want to try a hardcover and see how it went. Up until that point I'd written three Trek novels for them—The Wounded Sky and My Enemy, My Ally, and with Peter, The Romulan Way—and as far as I can tell, a combination of strong sales figures and very positive reviews led the editors at Pocket to choose me to do the first hardcover.

(Adding a cut here, because this runs longish. Caution: contains severe weather, peripatetic writers, [offstage] Highland cattle, and [because hindsight is always 20/20...] author idiocy.)

If I remember correctly, the go-to-hardcover decision was made in 1987. The book's outlining would have happened in the winter of that year, while we were staying in Scotland: the post over here talks about that a littie.

Not very long after that we made our where-to-live decision, headed to Ireland, and moved into a little rented terrace house in north county Wicklow, not far from Annie McCaffrey's place. Once we were installed there, I started work on the first draft of Spock's World.

This, though, is where a tragedy almost occurred.

Electric-power infrastructure can sometimes be an issue in rural areas of Ireland. And one night, in the middle of a thunderstorm, the post-top transformer nearest us in our little housing estate was struck by lightning. The ensuing power surge (or just possibly an EMP associated with it: jury's still out...) fried my computer.

Fortunately, most of my working disks were okay. But the last 40K+ words of the novel survived only in fragmentary form... and when I tried to reassemble those chapters from the backups, I discovered that the backups were corrupt. And the book was due at the publisher—by which I mean printed and FedExed to NY: no one was equipped back then to deal with emailed manuscript files—in two weeks.

Needless to say, things around the house then got a bit frantic. I wound up having to completely rewrite nearly the entire back half of the book from memory, as I did not have a printout. (So you'll understand that for the last few decades, hard copy [or PDFs] and backups, and backups of backups, have become something of an obsession for me. These days I use Backblaze, with which I'm extremely pleased: it runs constantly in the background, updating things in realtime as you do, and has numerous smart ways to recover your material if you need it.)

At any rate, my memory's fortunately fairly good for material I've just recently written. And I have to say that in retrospect this whole escapade may have been a blessing in disguise... as I strongly believe that the rewritten material was significantly better than in the draft that would originally have gone to the publisher. The printout went to the publisher just in time to hit that particular production deadline. The only thing really messed up in the aftermath was my back, which gave me grief for months afterward. My advice on this count: never write 40K+ words in two weeks in a straight-backed chair. :/

Anyway, there was a happy ending when the book came out: it spent eight weeks on the Times list, which was nice. (In pretty good company, too...) :)

And shortly Pocket asked me to do another hardcover. So that was nice too.

Anyway, that's the tale.

Hope this has helped! And give the book club my best. :)

[blueiscoool]

Vatican Museums Opens Ancient Roman Necropolis to the Public

The site was previously only accessible to scholars and specialists.

The Vatican Museums has newly opened to the public an ancient necropolis stocked with carved marble sarcophagi and bone-filled open graves of everyday ancient Romans.

The word necropolis comes from the Greek expression for “city of the dead.” These “cities” grew up alongside roads outside the urban center due to laws forbidding cremation and burial of the dead inside city limits. Funerary practices and rites are preserved especially clearly in the necropolis that extends along the Via Triumphalis (a Roman road now known as the Via Trionfale), with burial sites accompanied by eye-popping Roman frescoes and mosaics.

Previously, the necropolis was accessible only to certain groups of scholars and specialists. It is now open to the public via the new Saint Rose Gate entrance, inaugurated with the exhibition “Life and Death in the Rome of the Caesars.”

How extensive is the archaeological area?

It extends nearly 11,000 square feet. The size of the necropolis is not as extensive as some other Roman burial sites, but its importance lies in its proximity to one of the most significant religious sites in Christianity.

What is known about particular people who are buried there?

According to archaeologists, no less than the tomb of St. Peter himself is located in the Vatican Necropolis.

But in general, “Here, we have represented the lower middle class of Rome’s population,” said Leonardo Di Blasi, an archaeologist with the Vatican Museums, in a video on Euro News. “They are essentially slaves, freedmen, artisans of the city of Rome.” Some were the property of the emperor, and are indicated to have been the “servant of Nero.”

One of them was a man named Alcimus, who was the set director for the downtown Theater of Pompeii, the most important theater of the period. Another was a horse trainer who worked at the chariot races.

One young boy is interred there, according to the Catholic News Service, marked by a sculpture of a boy’s head accompanied by an inscription reading “Vixit Anni IIII Menses IIII Dies X,” Latin for “He lived four years, four months, and 10 days.”

How did this ancient burial ground come to light?

The Vatican burial grounds were first explored in the 1940s at the request of then Pope Pius X, who wanted to be buried near the grave of Peter the Apostle. The dig revealed numerous mausoleums and tombs.

The newest part of the burial ground was revealed through an infrastructure project in 2003, as the Vatican excavated for a new multilevel employee parking garage.

What happened when the Vatican discovered these newest burial grounds?

The department of the Vatican that was overseeing construction of the parking garage, intent on meeting its deadline, was accused of trying to conceal the find, Giandomenico Spinola, an archaeologist and deputy artistic-scientific director of the museums, told the Catholic News Service. It was only when journalists publicized the discovery that he and his colleagues were invited in to advise.

When were the bodies there buried? How have the tombs been so well preserved?

Bodies were interred in this burial ground between the first century B.C.E and the fourth century C.E., and organic remains have vanished. A number of the graves, including their tombs and decorations, including frescoes, mosaic floors, and marble-carved inscriptions, were fortuitously preserved by a series of mudslides in the area.

[dismissivedestroyer]

deadline genuinely seems so cool may i please know more :3

OKAY SO

DeadLine started off as part of the fanzine "Catacumbus", a Uni school project where we as a class had to make up the worldbuilding of an original universe, and then create three characters and write a couple short stories (via comics) taking place in this universe. Some of us got really attached to the characters we made, and we decided to make them into full blown original stories, like with @dvmbfrxgg (she made these characters called Red, Lily and Pierrot, and is now working on a comic about them called The Journey Of Little Red. It SLAPS/pos).

DeadLine started off as part of this fanzine, and then became part of the Elysiumverse, which is a collection of three original comics of mine ("DeadLine", "How to kill an Outer God" and "12 Months Til the end of the world"), probably more to come, all taking place in the same town, Elysium Creek, which is said to be cursed, as children there end up meeting very grim fates. The story follows 13-year-old Nora (Eleonora James), resident of Elysium Creek. One day she ends up in an accident, and while her body ends up in a coma, her soul ends up trapped in the Catacombs, where souls reside as they die. Determined to go back to the world of the living, she makes friends and enemies as she explores the weird place she's stuck in, and uncovers a dangerous conspiracy that threatens to destroy the balance between life and death.

It's also vaguely based on a tragedy that happened in my town, about which I won't elaborate cause it's pretty private.

THIS IS PRETTY MUCH ALL OF THE DEADLINE BACKSTORY I'M ALLOWED TO SAY???

This is the first sketch of the final designs of the three main characters tho

[luvanniiee]

Chill and Unwind .

non-idol!felix x gn/afab reader

synopsis : you come home from a hard day of work , feeling overwhelmed by everything , your bf felix helps you relax and forget about everything thats troubling you .

warnings : smut mdni , established relationship , sub!reader , softdom!felix , unprotected sex (wrap it or it falls off) , sensual massaging , reader has a vagina , oral (f & m receiving) , cunnilingus , oils , vanilla sex , everything is soft here , breeding , multiple orgasms , overstimulation , slight edging , pet names like baby , princess and things like that. lmk if i missed anything:)

a/n : hii its annie here and uh this is my first story on this app , so be nice ! also i got this inspo from a porn vid 💀 . dont ask , anyways enjoy !! lowercase intended

wrd cnt : 200 +

story under cut !! ;)

9:23 pm

youre driving home from work , tired as usual . the boss always gives you a hard time . what do you expect when theres a deadline coming up ? but today , he was a little rougher this time . he was so pushy . do this y/n , he would say , or get this done , he would add . it was too much. everyone moving around fast , it made you feel overwhelmed . you just couldnt wait until you were home with your loving boyfriend .

and now youre pulling in the driveway to the house you shared with him . lee felix , he sure was a catch . hes so beautiful in all aspects , sometimes you would dread bringing him along to the stores , people would stare a little too hard at him sometimes . it made you feel proud that you were the only one lucky enough to be with him . but it also made you feel jealous because of those men and women eye fucking whats yours .

hey baby , someone said snapping you out of your thoughts . you hadnt even realized you walked in the house . oh ! hey felix , you said . you set your keys down and gave him a hug and kiss . you must not have realized that you were almost clinging on to him . when he tried to back up , you would only hold him closer . hard day baby ? he said . yeah , my boss was being a cunt again, rushing everyone for a stupid deadline .

oh , my poor baby . im glad i ran your bath , go on and get in it baby , and when you get out , daddy will give you a nice massage to help you chill and relax , okay ? he said . you nodded and went upstairs to take that bath .

11:14 pm

you’ve finished your shower and felix was sitting on the bed waiting for you . you smiled at him softly and made your way over to the bed . since you were only in your towel , felix took it off of you and laid you face down on the bed . ready? he asked . you nodded , and felix got up , grabbed the vanilla scented oil and poured it into his hand .

he rubbed his hands together and laid them on your skin . you shivered at the contrast of his warm hands vs the cold air , forming goosebumps on your skin . feel alright princess ? he asked before he massaged you . you hummed in agreement . and he started his massage .

you felt his hands moving down your lower back , towards your ass . the way his hands gently gripped and soothed your muscles really turned you on . do you like it honey ? he asked . yes felix , your hands feel nice . you say lifting your head to speak . he chuckled lightly at your response . and you smiled to yourself .

11:35 pm

felix has you on your back now , so youre facing him . his lips are on yours , kissing you passionately , lovingly , making you forget about everything that worried you . you felt safe in this moment , you felt vulnerable being naked in front of him . his hands massage your boobs , while kissing you . you grind your hips upwards to ease the tension you felt down there . you needed friction , he was more than willing to give it to you . but he wanted to take his time .

as his hands traveled down your body , his mouth traveled down as well . kissing and sucking on each nipple . taking his time to appreciate you . his efforts to make you feel better made you really hot . as his hands travel from your stomach to your lower body , he stops just above your pussy . not touching it , but enough to make you need him more . i know you need me here , your love juice is coming out a lot . he said. i wont keep you waiting my love , i know you want me to make you feel good . he added.

so he took two fingers , and slowly played with your clit . it wasnt much , but it was enough to make you whine for more . please felix i need it so bad . you said . he gave you what you wanted by speeding up . he took his thumb and circled your clit with it while his middle and pointer fingers were deep inside you . aw fuck d..daddy it feels s’good . you moaned out . that only fueled his desire for you . so he leaned down and replaced his thumb with his mouth .

the feeling of his mouth gently sucking on your clit , was too much for you . in a matter of seconds , felix had you moaning and panting as you released . your eyes rolling back , and back lifting up off the bed . the more you were coming down , the more you realized that felix was still sucking at your clit . the overstimulation quick to set in . s . stop i already came . you moaned as you tried to push him away . he got up and took his fingers out slowly . he brought them to his mouth and sucked on them . moaning at the flavor .

he looked at you , with his fingers still in his mouth , and fingers wet with your cum and his spit . he took his fingers from his mouth and kissed you on your lips . you moaned at both the flavor and the fact that his boner was pushing against your sensitive clit . he grinded himself into you , seeking a slight relief from how hard he was .

baby , can you help daddy out ? he asked . he sounded a bit needy , so you couldnt keep him waiting . he leaned back on his knees and you sat forward . you wasted no time taking his pants off , revealing his erection . it slapped against his lower abdomen , causing a slight noise . he moaned as you took him in your hand . his precum leaking out from his tip . you gave him kitten licks causing him to whine . stop teasing me baby , put it in your mouth now . he groaned . you obeyed him .

thinking about the times where you teased too much and he ended up punishing you , you took him in your mouth as soon as he finished his sentence . his hips stuttered due to his sensitivity , as you were sliding him down your throat , he grabbed some of your hair and pushed himself more in your mouth . you gagged because of his size and how far he was down your throat . it sent pleasure waves down to your pussy making you drip on the bed . although you were still a little sensitive from the mind blowing orgasm he gave you , you wouldnt mind going again .

fuck y/n … you..youre mouth is s’good . he moaned . his moans always turned you on . you subconsciously moaned , making him thrust his hips forward , pushing himself down your throat even more . fuck stop … stop i dont want to cum yet . he groaned forcing himself out of your mouth . with a pop , his dick was out of your mouth . you caught your breath and wiped your mouth clean from the spit .

he kissed you and laid you back down . he spread your legs and put them on both sides of him. he looked at you , desperation , lust , love , need in his eyes . you gave him a nod and with that , he slowly pushed himself into you . both of you moaned at the stretch . although you guys have had sex before , you werent quite used to him yet .

he pushed himself all the way until your pubic areas were meeting . he sat there for a few minutes , letting you adjust to him . and also keeping himself from ending it all by cumming . move now daddy , you moaned as you grind your hips into him . okay baby . was all he said before thrusting slowly into .

his size was so incredible , always making you feel full of him . you whined as he kept pushing himself deep and slowly into you . i..ah…i want more daddy please . you begged him , you wanted him to speed up , which is what he did . he fucked himself into . both of you moaning loud . it was almost like a competition of who can moan loudest . mmgh fuck…fuck me babe , so tight an..nngh..and good for me . he moaned out , the last part coming out as a whisper .

his praise compared to how deeply and fast he was fucking you , had your head spinning . you felt yourself getting closer and closer each snap of his hips . fel…fuck daddy im gonna cum ! you moaned loudly . he brought his hand down to rub your clit , pushing you over your limit . you came with a loud cry of his name . fuck felix ! you screamed. he slowed down enough to help you through your orgasm .

soon as your breathing slowed , he sped back up . chasing his own high . you could tell he was close . his breathing was uneven , his eyes closed tightly , biting his lip , his hips sloppily thrusting into you . fuck fuck fuck y/n i… aw fuck im cumming i..m cu… he came with a loud moan of your name . he stills his hips and releases his cum into .

as if his cock wasnt filling enough , his cum filled the tiny space his cock wasnt touching . he shakes with each sharp thrust , gasping as each rope of cum shoots out . his eyes roll back and his head falls back . then his head falls forward looking at the mess hes made . he slowly pulls himself out , and watches as some of his cum leaks out .

he pushes it back in you , not wanting to waste it . you twitch a little from the aftershocks , and he looks up and smiles at you . let me clean you up , and then we can talk more about that day you had . he spoke up . how could anyone have energy after that ?

he drew the bath , and yall cleaned up . as soon as you hit the bed , your eyes start to close . now about that day … he said but then realized that you had fallen asleep . he kissed your cheek and turned off the light .

i hope that you guys enjoyed this ! i hope it was good for the first time ! ill be making more soo put in some recs !!

©️luvanniiee on tumblr !

[courtesycalling]

about pbouxhkiir night, did the team come up with more rules of the game/ names of the cards than appeared in-game?

We were fluctuating on the amount of standard cards. I designed the first three, Wynton designed 4 more, then in the end we cut it back to 5.

(Wynton's cards were mostly references to classic sci-fi.)

Boring cut content: Our deadline was really tight, so we ended up prioritizing the dialogue over the card game mechanics. There's a lot of QOL stuff which didn't make it but which I'd like to add later.

Funny cut content: In the very first conversation, we had the idea that the characters would start arguing over the rules of the game until the gameplay devolved into non-card actions, e.g. tipping over a pile of poker chips (with rigid body physics), dodging one of the characters as they try to punch you (if you failed, a damaged HP bar would appear) (and then more and more UI elements would keep appearing on the screen as the gameplay got weirder). We didn't go in this direction but it would've been funny.

By the way, Wynton went behind our backs and told her friends "if you draw a joke card for this game, we will put it in no matter what", and we ended up with like 25 cards. Despite what she said, we cut a bunch, like the "AI-generated" card that Annie holds up (it can't appear in your deck), anything with images of humans, and "Benson". Also one of them was just a Tableturf Battle card.

[essayisms]

If you don't follow me on twitter or instagram you most likely won't have heard that I have started a Book Club for 2024.

I decided to base this book club around short but powerful texts, because not all of us are fast readers, or able to access texts easily (I will endeavor to locate PDF's of the texts for you) and a lot of you will also be working and studying. There is also a lot of literary and artistic merit to short and concise prose that I look forward to reading with you all.  We are also going to focus on narratives that cross genre boundaries and are written by female, non-binary and international authors.

I sent the first email out yesterday announcing the first title, but because so many people have been messaging me after the deadline I have made the first title public: Simple Passion by Annie Ernaux.

I will be adding more people to the Book Club list for February. I'm not accepting new emails just yet, but if you keep an eye out on my instagram you will see when I am.

[wyattjohnston]

take my hand, baby - brock boeser

series: take you one day at a time

summary: the lead up to the 2023 trade deadline is a little chaotic.

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 2,342

The rumours had been flying for months, a long off-season of potential trade rumours and articles about moving him being the solution to the Canucks cap-space woes—Annie checked every notification on her phone in case it was the one that sealed their fate.

At the beginning of the season it had been devastating but understandable, knowing that Brock was unlikely to see out the season in Vancouver—that even if he did, Bo probably wouldn’t.

It became a lot less understandable a month into the season when Annie stared down at the positive pregnancy test while Brock was in the middle of a weeklong road trip up the east coast.

“I should have waited until he got home. Right, Coolie?” Annie asked as he started to hover around her legs. She scratched him behind the ears. “I should definitely tell him first but probably not on the phone. You have to promise to keep it a surprise.”

Coolie woofed and Annie took it as agreement before he trotted out of the room to tell Milo.

She tapped the stick against the edge of the sink a few times as she tried to work out what was really going through her mind. She didn’t feel the fear she once had, having the word ‘pregnant’ staring back up at her, which was a relief in and of itself. Most of her worry came from having to keep her mouth shut until she saw Brock again.

Annie smiled at her reflection in the mirror, a gentle laugh bubbling from her lips.

The test didn’t leave Annie’s mind once over the next four days; it made talking to Holly almost impossible, a lovely combination of secret keeping and her mind wandering to the test—to the future.

In a moment of weakness, unable to just keep the news between her and the dogs, Annie whispered it into Tulsa’s ear while Holly was distracted by Gunnar. At seven months old, Tulsa obviously had no idea what she was being told, but it settled something in Annie to say it out loud to another human.

“They’re going to be a little younger than you,” Annie said, bouncing Tulsa up and down on her knee, “but I hope you’re best friends.”

Holly had been none-the-wiser.

In their many phone calls before he came home, Brock remained unaware that Annie was keeping anything from him. He noted on more than one occasion that she sounded happy and she just shrugged and said it had been a good week.

It was still early in the afternoon when Brock got home, a benefit of time zones counteracting long flights, and Annie was lounging on their outdoor sofa, Coolie stretched out over her legs and Milo cuddled up into her side. Neither dog did anything more than lift their heads when the back door slid open and Brock walked out.

Annie never got sick of seeing him.

“I thought you’d be working,” he said, smiling fondly at the sight and leaning down to kiss her before he scratched both dogs behind the ears thoroughly.

“I scheduled it off when your schedule came out and I found out they’d shipped you off for ten days.”

He laughed, making room for himself on the couch—Coolie was unimpressed by the disruption but settled back into Brock’s lap. Annie had to find space on his lap around Coolie, but she managed.

Brock said, “You just had me home for like three weeks; you should be sick of me.”

“You weren’t supposed to fuck up your hand again, so I couldn’t prepare around that,” Annie said, tersely, still unhappy that he’d been put in the line up so soon after his surgery. She wasn’t unhappy with him—knowing all too well that if you give a hockey player the choice, they’ll say they’re fine to play—just at the organisation for letting him.

“I don’t want to talk about hockey.” Brock sighed heavily and Annie didn’t blame him. It had been a poor road trip—2 wins in 5 games—and only exacerbated the loss record while Brock was on the ice. He had 2 wins in 11 games.

It was as good a time as any, Annie figured. Her heartbeat was getting quicker and quicker, the anticipation growing with every second she waited. It would lift his mood, too, she was sure of it.

So, she asked, giddily, “Wanna know a secret?”

“Is Holly pregnant again?”

“No, Holly’s not pregnant,” Annie said. “I am.”

“What’s the secr—wait, Annie.”

She was sure his eyes had never been that wide, that his expression had never been happier—it certainly hadn’t in the last year. He reached out for Annie desperately, jostling both the dogs off the couch, and there was no time wasted in her climbing into his lap.

“It’s why I’ve been so happy this week,” she said into the top of Brock’s head.

His face was buried into her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her straddle over his lap was rather awkward but he was holding her so close that moving was out of the occasion, it didn’t matter, really, when everything else felt positively euphoric.

“Holy shit, Annie, I love you so much.”

His voice was watery and she could feel his tears on her skin, holding him closer was no hardship—especially not when she was beginning to cry herself.

As much as Annie didn’t want to move, she did have to clamber off Brock’s lap because the feeling in her legs started to disappear. Brock was reluctant but he stood up with her, cupping her face and kissing her breathlessly.

“Who have you told?” he asked, not sounding like he’d be upset by any answer she gave. She was certain nothing could ruin the blissful expression on his face.

“You. The dogs. Tulsa. I only peed on a stick; I haven’t even told a doctor yet.”

“This is—this is unreal, Annie,” he said, just before he kissed her again. Her legs were getting weaker with every kiss. “Should we get married?”

“I don’t need to be married. If you want to be married then we can but we can do this without a wedding.”

Brock’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her off her feet to spin her around. The commotion caused the dogs to bark and start chasing Annie’s feet, but Brock didn’t let her down.

Annie wasn’t even supposed to be in Florida with them.

About a week before the All-Star break, something had clawed at her and told her she needed to be there with them, so she re-arranged her plans to go to Disney World with her brother, his wife and their two kids:

While six months pregnant.

Brock had let it happen because of that fact, and told her to change his plans, too.

It became clear on the 30th of January exactly what that clawing feeling had been.

It was just the two of them at the hotel, Annie barely made it out of the room before retreating back inside and going back to bed and Bo having left early because of the calls he was getting.

Annie didn’t even know until Bo knocked on her door, waking her up and asking to be let in. The dejected look on his face let her know right away what had transpired during her nap.

“Want to know where I’m going?” he asked, tapping his phone against his hand.

“I guess.”

“Islanders.”

The bottom fell out of Annie’s stomach as a map of North America flew into her mind, drawing a thick red line between Vancouver and New York. That was something to deal with later.

“It’s January,” Annie chose to settle on. “Why the fuck are they trading anybody in January?”

“I don’t know, Ann.”

She stared at him, the map not leaving her mind. It was so far, further than he’d ever been before, and that in and of itself was terrifying.

“I don’t want to make this about me,” she said, furious at the tears welling up in her eyes, “but I’m going to because you’re supposed to be here for me and here after this baby’s born and Holly is supposed to help me. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I’ve never been able to do anything without you.”

Her hands settled over her ever-growing and ever-present bump as she spoke. It had been a smooth pregnancy, all things considered—aside from some lethargy and the first trimester morning sickness, she had nothing to complain about.

It wasn’t even the birthing part she was particularly scared of.

The part that worried her the most was not having anyone around to help her—through the birth or the newborn stage. The part that was coming true in front of her eyes.

“You don’t need me,” Bo assured her, his hands on her shoulders as he stared her down in the most aggressively fond way. “If you need Holly, she’ll come back. You know that. And you have Brock, who is arguably the most important person you’re going to need.”

Annie huffed, childishly stomping her foot, “He’s going to be traded, too, so who the fuck knows.”

Bo sat her down on the bed, looking down at her as she imagined he did to Gunnar when he was getting a talking to. He told her, “If Brock does get traded, you’re not staying in Vancouver. You’ve told me all the plans you’ve got in case you have to move at the deadline.”

It was the truth, as difficult as she knew it would be. The contingencies had been in place almost since they found out, what with the trade rumours amping up with every passing day.

“If any old man in the league had any fucking decency maybe they would have traded him today when I’m six months pregnant and less fucking stressed.”

“Less stressed,” Bo laughed, throwing his head back. “Is that what you call this?”

Annie glared, her mouth pulling tight and her eyebrows doing the same. She stood, poked Bo in the chest and said, “I’m going to kick everybody’s ass between Vancouver and fucking Brooklyn. Including yours.”

Nobody had expected Annie’s baby bump to get quite so round. Holly had made a point of telling Annie that it wouldn’t get too big purely because Annie was small—in height and weight. Nobody she knew was making too many comments about it, but strangers passing on the street had no issue asking her when she was due because it must have been any moment. The looks on their faces when Annie said, through gritted teeth, that she was barely seven months along and they should mind their own business was only just enough to get her through.

Pregnancy had turned her into a stress eater, which may have been contributing to the unexpected size, and in the days leading up to the trade deadline she was eating more and more because she was trying to internalise her own stresses to avoid exacerbating Brock’s.

Up until four or five days before ethe deadline, it was impossible to separate Brock from his phone; every single buzz sent him reaching for it lightning fast only to be met with another, entirely unrelated trade, or somebody in his family’s group chat sending a cute photo. The idea of hiding his phone had tempted Annie more than once but she knew better than to add the stressing of missing anything to the mix.

Things died down in the final few days before the deadline, all the big trades were seemingly done and Brock had been promised that he was in Vancouver to stay; Annie didn’t trust those promises but they made Brock lighter and more carefree so she wouldn’t tell him what she thought.

The night before the deadline—the 2nd of March, on the back of a loss against Minnesota where not even his power play goal could take out the sting—Annie greeted Brock at the door.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” Brock said when he saw her, putting an end to the sneaking he’d been attempting.

“Slept all day in case you were up all night. Didn’t want you to be alone,” she said softly. She took his suit jacket from his arms and kissed him.

“You need sleep,” Brock argued as he wrapped her up and shuffled her out of the doorway. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“I can try.”

Brock’s smirk showed that he didn’t believe she could do it, so Annie settled on making him lie down with her in the hope that she could coax him into some rest.

He didn’t seem to be overly caught up in the deadline being so soon, happy to just lie beside her and stifle a laugh as she did her best to shuffle closer to him, inevitably neding some assistance to move the pillow that was supporting her bump but when the only thing between them was her stomach, she put her arm over his stomach and watched him with soft eyes as she started talking to him about their baby names shortlist.

Annie couldn’t say what time she fell asleep, or how long it took Brock to after her, but by the time they woke up Annie knew it was late. When she opened her eyes, unimpressed by the light that was filtering into the room from the poorly drawn blinds, Brock was smiling at her peacefully.

“What’s the time?” she asked, her voice hoarse and muffled by the pillow.

“Just before noon. I think I’m safe. We’re safe.”

A smile grew so large on Annie’s face that her cheeks started to hurt within seconds—somehow, through sheer willpower, she threw herself on top of Brock and started kissing his face. Brock’s arms tightened around her, keeping her secure on top of him, just letting the kisses happen.

“This means I win.”

“Win what?”

“Our baby is going to be so Canadian.”

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[marleysfinest]

PUZZLE PIECE | reiner x jean college au

college au reijean

fluff, c/w implied weed smoking, alcohol, two dummies in love (they just don't know it yet)

wc 4.8k

this was originally intended to be part of @reijeanweek which was lovingly curated by my wife @fromriches-tosin but alas I am terrible at deadlines and stuff got in the way HOWEVER! I always resolved to finish it and I HAVE!! it is both below the cut and on ao3 if u prefer on there but anyway HERE! reijean fluff!!!

   The University of Paradis takes on new life once spring calls round. The campus suffers months of naked trees, dull and damp limestone walls, and blanket upon blanket of grey clouds every year, winter often feeling as if it lasts longer than three months. But when the sky begins to brighten and the birds begin to sing, the campus sings with it. The sports fields and quod gardens breathe to life as the grass is once again vibrant, the trees start to regain their leaves, and the crocus begin to flower. The students continue to socialise after the holiday break, but it’s not until the weather warms that they really come back to life. Parties that had been spent huddled inside a single dorm or frat house can finally spill outside to make the most of the warmer evening air. 

   For roommates Reiner Braun and Marco Bodt, the warmer weather means finally breaking free of bitterly cold morning runs and drizzle-filled football practice, ushering in the season of shorts and vest tops and cooling down in the shade or campus swimming pool. The two are unlikely friends; allocated as roommates at the start of their studies eight months before owing to them both majoring in sports science and, while they’d gotten off to a stilted and awkward start, they found that they enjoyed one another’s company. At the very least, they were both tidy and respected each other’s space. Reiner, in particular, had been anxious about sharing his space with someone else having grown up an only child, but was pleasantly surprised. Marco had three brothers, a fact that made Reiner’s stomach tense when he’d heard it, but being the youngest meant that Marco valued his space and belongings perhaps more than Reiner did. It had been a happy accident that the two had been paired together. Looking at them, one wouldn’t have thought they’d make good friends. Marco’s tall and slender frame, with pale skin and jet black hair was a stark contrast to Reiner’s muscular build, blonde hair, and warmer tone. Aesthetic differences aside, they grew close and soon counted each other as friends. As is often the case at college, lives become condensed and what happens on campus is shielded from the consequences of the outside world. Students have their own ecosystems, their own set of rules and regulations that would never fly in the real world. Everything is amplified, although that wasn’t always a bad thing. 

   While their fellow classmates were diving headfirst into all that college had to offer over the course of their first year - including, but not limited to, experimenting physically - Reiner and Marco had a habit of keeping to themselves. They went to parties together and separately, each had their turns tying a sock around the doorknob warning their roommate not to enter, but in truth, they didn’t see the fuss about it all. They had shocked even themselves at how academic they both were - Reiner, seeing through every physical test with flying colours and Marco, scoring straight A’s on every assignment - and so their efforts were simply better served elsewhere. A couple of their friends had even joked that they’d become something of an “old married couple”, with their fondness for staying in on Saturdays and distinctly lack of one night stands. They did still thrive socially, just not in the way most people would “expect”. Outside of his roommate, Reiner had befriended Bertholdt Hoover and Annie Leonhardt at a rowing society social in the autumn, and the three of them had stayed close. Bertholdt and Annie were a welcome relief from the hardcore party-goers, instead more than content to camp out in Reiner’s dorm with a crate of beers while Annie smoked out of the window. The three would talk for hours, and occasionally Marco would join. He always seemed happy enough to tag along when it suited him, and Reiner was always happy to let him do so. Marco was the type to get along with anyone; easygoing, lighthearted, a little introverted, and he tended to attract like minded people - it was perhaps why he got along with Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt. 

   Towards the end of the winter semester as the nights grow lighter, Reiner and Marco spend less and less time bundled in their dorm room, their only real time spent together now consisting of the late hours before bed, and the small hours of the morning. Marco mutters something about a new group of artsy-types he’s met at a social, but Reiner doesn’t catch the gist of his point, although nor is he particularly bothered. He held no ownership over Marco, there was no reason for him to know how his room mate spent every minute of his spare time. 

   The evening is crisp but pleasant as Reiner half-stumbles back to his room after drinks with Annie and Bertholdt. It’s not late, only just approaching 9AM, but Reiner has never been one to hold his liquor and letting Annie twist his arm into shots and beer pong after their last lecture of the day had only proven it. As he nears his room, he pauses at the sound of muffled conversation coming from the other side of the door. He hesitates, glancing down at the door handle to make sure he hasn’t missed a key detail, but sees nothing there. Has Marco just forgotten? Should he go in? The ground begins to shift beneath his feet, and Reiner knows he needs to collapse onto his bed. Urgently. With a deep breath and apology cocked at the ready, he hastily twists the doorknob and bursts into the room. 

   The dormitory is suddenly silent, as Reiner’s frame fills the doorway in its ever-intimidating manner. Time seems to slow down as he meets Marco’s (understandably) alarmed gaze from across the room, and breathes a sigh of relief that he hasn’t interrupted his room mate’s private time. But then, where were the voices coming from?

   “Uh… you OK, man?”

   An unfamiliar voice pierces the quiet, and Reiner whips his head around to see someone sitting in Marco’s desk chair, absentmindedly twirling himself left and right with a gentle push of his toes. Reiner doesn’t recognise him - although his mind is so clouded that he could have met this person before, he just isn’t in a position to recall. Although, even in a drunken stupor, he realises that surely he’d remember this stranger…

   “Reiner?” says Marco, drawing Reiner’s attention, “what’s up? You look weird.” 

   “Uh…” Reiner’s mouth is suddenly dry as he realises just how intensely he’s put the spotlight on himself. In an attempt to shift the focus of the room, he turns once again to the stranger. 

   “You… you do not live in this room.” 

   His words are a little slurred and his stance wavers slightly as he limply raises a finger to point at the figure in the chair. The stranger’s eyebrows crease together, and from the corner of his eye, Reiner sees Marco put his head in his hands. 

   “No…” answers the stranger, “I’m hangin’ out with Marco. I’m Jean.”

   Despite having just been offered a very plausible explanation, Reiner struggles to understand what this Jean is saying, and decides to further his interrogation after closing the door. He glances at Marco, who is sitting on his bed, hugging his knees, and has decided against intervening for the moment, the curiosity of just how the encounter will unfold getting the better of him. 

   “Just… just hangin’ out?” asks Reiner, folding his arms across his chest. Jean scoffs as he stops pushing the chair left and right, bringing a foot up to rest on his seat. 

   “Yeah, that alright with you?” 

   Reiner glares at Jean, not taking kindly to his cocky attitude. Jean is, after all, a guest in his room. In the background Reiner’s bed screams out, but it would have to wait. He had to know why this stranger was in his room. 

   “Well, that depends,” he slurs, “what are your intentions?”

   Marco’s face is suddenly in his hands as Jean barks out a laugh.

   “What are my intentions?! Oh my god, what are you, his dad?”

   Reiner feels the heat of a blush flare in his cheeks, but struggles to determine whether it's through embarrassment or the liquor. Realising that he’s flattened any chance of an interrogation, he resigns himself to silence and heads for his bed, not once relaxing his scowl at Jean. So many comments gather in his throat - be nice to him, he’s my roommate. What was your name again? Are you his boyfriend? No, no, you don’t look like you have boyfriends. Hey, enough with the snide comments in my room - but none are verbalised as he crashes on top of the mattress. He hears quiet whispering as he loses the battle against his heavy eyelids, and soon falls into a deep sleep. 

***

   Saturday morning rolls around all too quickly, and Reiner wakes with a heavy head. The pillow feels as if it’s made of concrete as he rolls onto his back and is assaulted by the sunlight flooding through the curtains. 

   “Mornin’,” says Marco. Reiner slowly opened his eyes to see his friend sitting upright in bed, nursing a steaming cup of coffee as he scrolled the morning news on his tablet. 

   “Feeling rosy today?” 

   Reiner buried himself back into his pillow.

   “Shut up,” he says, voice muffled and croaky. “Not another word.”

   Marco huffs a laugh and takes a sip of his coffee, not sparing a glance at his hungover friend. He knew Reiner would be feeling all the worse for drinking - it wasn’t something he did often, in excess - and decided against pushing the matter any further than necessary. 

   “Whatever you say.”

   The morning moves slowly in a haze for Reiner as he drifts slowly in and out of sleep, before finally clinging on to consciousness just before midday. Marco had long since gotten up and ready for the day, and had left to squeeze in some studying soon after finishing his coffee, leaving Reiner to wake up alone. 

   After washing up and returning to bed, Reiner picks up his phone for the first time that morning, realising that his memory of the night before is patchy. There isn’t much of a breadcrumb trail - some photos of Bertholdt and Annie playing beer pong, a selfie of them all walking down the street, presumably back to campus - and Reiner’s more than pleased to see that nobody had posted anything stupid on social media. With a heavy sigh and creeping hunger, Reiner sets his phone down on his nightstand and begins contemplating what his delicate stomach will keep down, when a knock on the door jolts him. A ripple of pain shoots through his head at the sudden noise and he lets out an exhausted groan; perhaps leaving the room wouldn’t be such a good idea. If this was what a knock at the door felt like, he didn’t fancy his chances if he came across an ambulance siren. It feels as if all his joints are screaming as he stands up. He swings the door open and is suddenly face to face with a stranger - is he a stranger? He’s tall, with unruly tawny hair cut into a haphazard mullet and faint stubble peppering his chin. 

   “Hey…” He greets Reiner with a coy smile, his voice trailing off and leaving the two in silence for a moment. Reiner can’t ignore that there’s something about the way the stranger is staring at him, something captivating and familiar. 

   “...Is Marco here?” 

   Reiner is snapped from his daydream and clears his throat loudly, leaning on the doorframe as he does so. 

   “Marco?” he asks. 

   “Yeah, name ring a bell?”

   Why is this guy talking to me like he knows me? Thinks Reiner, still trying to decipher whether he’s put off by the person in front of him or… something else. 

   “Uh, no, no he’s… he’s out, sorry,” he replies, the vibrations of his own voice rippling through his head uncomfortably, prompting him to massage his temple while steadying himself on the doorframe. 

   “Ah…” remarks the stranger, before plunging them both into an awkward silence. Why isn’t he leaving? Thinks Reiner, although… he isn’t too bothered. 

   “How’s the head this morning?” asks the stranger, holding back a grin. It takes Reiner a moment to reply, as he tries his best to remember anything about the night before, thinking that he must have met this person recently. 

   “Not…great?” he replies, immediately feeling bashful that he was drawing a blank. The stranger huffs and takes a step back, signalling his imminent departure. 

   “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he remarks, “you were kind of out of it last night. I’m Jean, by the way, in case you don’t remember. Marco’s friend.”

   There’s a twang of familiarity in the back of Reiner’s mind at the name, but more than anything he’s pleased at no longer being in the dark about the stranger who interrupted his morning.

   “Jean…” he repeats, “I’m Reiner.”

   “Yeah, I know,” says Jean. There’s a beat of silence before Jean readjusts his rucksack and offers a half-hearted wave, turning on his heel. “Tell Marco I’ll catch him later.” 

   Reiner watches as Jean disappears down the hall, weaving between the students emerging from their own dorms or gossiping in doorways, until he disappears and Reiner is alone once more. His mind is flooded, suddenly, as an interest is piqued that hasn’t reared its head in a while. After a few seconds of seemingly staring into space, he’s snapped back into consciousness, and retreats inside once again. 

***

   “Yeah, and I told you I’m not drinking like that again!” 

   Reiner’s phone is propped up on the bathroom counter, only just keeping him in the frame as he talks to Bertholdt on FaceTime while shaving.

   “You don’t have to drink!” argues Bertholdt, “just a couple of games of beer pong. No shots.” 

   “I didn’t agree to that!” Annie protests in the background. Reiner laughs as he watches Bertholdt push her away as she attempts to elbow her way into focus. 

   “Whatever,” concedes Reiner as he swishes his razor in the sink, “I’ll be there but no shots. Got it?”

   Annie offers a grunt of approval as Bertholdt offers his reassurance before hanging up the phone. Reiner pulls the plug to drain the sink, and as he reaches for a soft towel to dry his face, he catches a glimpse of Marco rummaging around the room. 

   “What’re you looking for?” he calls. 

   “My shoe! How does someone lose one shoe?!”

   Marco’s voice disappears into a muffled ramble as he squeezes beneath his bed in search of his lost sneaker. Reiner laughs at his friend’s misfortune as he goes to get dressed, offering a cursory glance around the room as he pulls on a t-shirt and jeans. Suddenly there’s a gentle thump from Marco’s side of the room, followed by a pained groan. Marco shuffles out from beneath the bed massaging the back of his head with one hand, and semi-triumphantly holding his missing shoe high in the air with the other. 

   “Hey, you found it!” 

   “But at what cost?!” 

   Marco laces up his shoes and stuffs his phone into his pocket before running out of the dorm with a hurried “see ya!”, leaving Reiner in the quiet. Since the weather had improved and the year progressed, Marco had been socialising more and more, his hermit-like habits apparently only reserved for the winter months, but Reiner didn’t mind. He liked the peace and quiet of being alone in the dorm, although he also had to admit that he was meeting with Bertholdt and Annie more often than usual. Despite being a homebody at his core, he had to admit that it was nice to have found a solid group of friends. 

  Reiner’s about to start the search for his own shoes when there’s a knock at the door. He instinctively freezes  - Marco’s already left, and he was supposed to be meeting Bertholdt and Annie at the bar, they weren’t supposed to be meeting Reiner, but perhaps they’d changed their mind. Or had Marco forgotten his keys? Another, louder knock at the door shakes Reiner out of his daydream, and he goes to answer. 

   In an almost exact repeat of the week before, Jean is standing in front of Reiner expectantly, wearing an expression that gives absolutely nothing away. A flurry appears in Reiner’s stomach at the sight of Jean, as he realises he is as handsome as he remembered.

   “Hey!” says Jean before Reiner can even form a thought, “Marco around?”

   “Uh…no, no, you just missed him.”

   Jean squints at Reiner, apparently unbothered by his friend’s absence.

   “You’re not hungover again, are you? Am I being filmed? Is this a prank?”

   Reiner is confused by the influx of questions and furrows his brow.

   “What?!”

   “This has to be a Groundhog Day style thing. No way are you repeating yourself word for word.” 

   Not knowing how to respond, Reiner feels himself panic and flounder for the right words to say. Why does he feel so nervous all of a sudden? Reiner’s no bully, but he’s no stranger when it comes to telling someone to back off if they’re bothering him, so why can’t he do that now? What’s stopping him from telling Jean to maybe text Marco instead of just turning up and hoping for the best? The more he thinks about it, he knows exactly why, but he’s neither the type of person nor is this the place to make a move on someone he barely knows.

   “I’m not…I’m not hungover! Jheeze, don’t you have Marco’s number? Call him next time.” 

   He goes to close the door on Jean when he’s met suddenly with a protest.

   “Alright! Alright, alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just trying to be fun, guess that didn’t come across. Truce?”

   Jean holds out a hand towards Reiner, who looks down at it feeling confused. Truce over what? Being an asshole? A cute asshole…

   “I think Marco might like it if we’re friends, so, whaddya say?”

   “O…kay?”

   Reiner shakes Jean’s hand and tries to ignore the hairs on the back of his neck as they stand on end. Jean’s hands are calloused but soft, and after just a quick glance Reiner notices the numerous multicoloured stains across his skin. 

   “It’s paint, not dirt,” says Jean, releasing his grip and reading Reiner’s mind, “I’m studying Art History but that doesn’t stop me trying to turn myself into Rembrant, you know?”

   There’s a sudden sincerity and almost nervousness to Jean’s voice as he explains the dulled splodges across his palms and blue tinge beneath his fingernails. Reiner doesn’t know how to reply - needless to say the arts were never his strong suit - and he tries to ignore the impulsive thoughts that are yelling for Jean to just keep talking. 

   “Uh-huh…” His voice trails off as the two are once again lingering in silence, but the awkwardness has subsided ever so slightly as the curtain of being strangers is slowly pulled back. Jean clearly knew more about Reiner than Reiner knew about him - all thanks to Marco’s penchant for oversharing, most likely - but despite his tendency towards privacy, Reiner doesn’t feel affronted. In fact, he acknowledges that he wouldn’t mind all that much knowing a little more about Jean. 

   “Anyway,” says Jean, piercing the silence once again, “I gotta go. Sorry to bother you…again.”

   “No, don’t worry about it,” assures Reiner, trying to shake off his daydream and frantically searching for reasons to suggest that Jean stays. Of course, he doesn’t think of any in his panic. 

   “I’ll call Marco next time. See ya ‘round.” 

   For the second time in as many weeks, Reiner watches Jean hop down the hallway until he’s out of sight.

***

   The ground shakes as the bass thumps rhythmically from the speakers, whipping up the partygoers’ taste for dancing and shots. The party has long since spilled out onto the front lawn and throughout the back garden, with people jumping in the pool drink in hand and coupling up in the dimming light. Inside the sorority house, the party rages with games of beer pong, groups socialising in the halls, and keg stands in the lounge. By the time Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie arrive, the party is already well established, and they walk into something resembling chaos. The trio enter and gently elbow their way past gossiping students until they reach the kitchen, where a tipsy Historia squeals in delight at their arrival. Historia, head cheerleader for Paradis University, has a soft spot for Reiner and despite knowing that partying isn’t his scene, never fails to invite him to every party she throws. 

   “You came!” she bleated, leaping up to throw her arms around Reiner’s neck. He catches her small frame in his arms before gently placing her feet firmly back on the ground. She sways slightly but keeps a firm grip on the bottle in her hand. 

   “Beer?!” quizzes Reiner, “you are drinking beer?!” 

   Historia looks momentarily offended.

   “Why wouldn’t I be?!” she asks, “I can drink beer!”

   “C’mon, you, quit bothering everyone that walks through the door, you klutz.” 

   Historia is whisked away by Ymir, fellow classmate of Reiner’s, with a knowing nod and wink. Reiner would’ve been lying if he ever said he didn’t have a soft spot for Historia, too, and so knowing that she was in the capable, albeit firm arms of Ymir gave him some relief. 

   “Alright, I’m gonna find the punch and then head for a smoke,” announces Annie, realising she’d seen more sights sober than she’d wanted, leaving Reiner and Bertholdt to their own devices. Not always wise, seeing as they were both as timid as each other oftentimes. They each scoop a beer from a large cooler packed with ice in the kitchen and do their best to begin mingling.

   By ten o’clock the party is in full force. Annie and Bertholdt are both deep in conversation with a group of Philosophy majors by the swimming pool, sharing long drags of Annie’s secret stash between muted arguments on the apparently tumultuous ethics of being a coxswain. Reiner had been with them on the sidelines but had long since lost interest in both the conversation and the smell - he didn’t mind either of them smoking, but it wasn’t for him, and soon the smoke was overpowering. He got up and disappeared inside as Annie began to roll another. 

   After scooping one of the last remaining beers, Reiner returns to the vaguely quieter porch outside and stops to observe the garden. Behind him is thumping music and rambunctious shouting and singing, but the party is a little tamer outside. People are playing in the pool - splashing each other and playing chicken - but the groups gathered in front of Reiner are generally more subdued and engaged in conversation. He huffs a sigh, and for a moment considers heading home when there’s a sudden presence beside him. To his right, he finds himself shoulder to shoulder with Jean. He’s taken aback momentarily, for some reason surprised to see him. 

   “Hey,” he says immediately, for once beating Jean to the punch. 

   “Hey! You’re not stuttering this time,” teases Jean. Reiner can’t help but laugh. 

   “Nope, not today,” he says, before glancing at his beer, “not yet, anyway.” 

   Jean returns a smile and the two resume gazing out at the party in front of them. 

   “What’re you doing here?” asks Reiner. He feels Jean shrug, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickle once again. 

   “Eh, was talked into it by Marco,” explains Jean, “he’s run off somewhere. I think he’s gettin’ lucky upstairs, truth be told, but I’m not about to try and find out.”

   Reiner whips his head round in utter disbelief. 

   “Marco?!”

   “I know!” 

   The pair share a moment in surprise at their friend’s good fortune - not because it was Marco, but because it wasn’t typical Marco behaviour - and Reiner raises his bottle.

   “To Marco.”

   They toast to their friend, and take a healthy swig. 

   After stealing some more beers and smuggling them out, Reiner and Jean find a quiet spot on the grass at the very back of the garden where the party turns into nothing more than a distant, muffled echo. They sit on the grass with their backs against the splintered wooden fence and begin to get to know one another, mostly via the avenue of Marco. Jean and Marco had met by chance at a job fair and, despite having polar opposite areas of study, bonded over their mutual love of Star Wars and The Ramones. For all his cockiness and confidence, Jean had found himself thin on close friends after the majority went to different universities, and so clung to Marco somewhat when the two had made a bond. Reiner was surprised to hear that Jean wasn’t swimming with friends - his impression had certainly been the opposite - and somewhat selfishly, it made him feel better. He didn’t want a city’s worth of people to call friends, and he was happy with the little handful he had, but there was something reassuring and almost validating to know that even the more seemingly popular on campus had struggled to adjust, just as he had done.

   “Y’know, even though you looked like a bruised grizzly bear that morning, I was glad to see you weren’t a total asshole,” said Jean, prompting Reiner to turn to him. 

   “What?”

   “Y’know, the morning I came to see Marco? And he wasn’t there? And you were hungover?” 

   “Yes,” interrupts Reiner, “I know when you mean. What do you mean I wasn’t a ‘total asshole’?”

   “Well…” Jean’s voice trails off for a moment, “you’d given me the third degree the night before and, I don’t know, I was glad to see you were just drunk, I guess.” 

   Reiner’s memory fails as he tries once again to remember what had happened the night he’d returned home and apparently met Jean for the first time. A flush of heat hits his cheeks, and he finds himself glad for the dim light to hide his blushing. 

   “Ah…Well, I’m sorry for whatever I said. Or did.” 

   Jean scoffs suddenly. 

   “C’mon! You didn’t do anything. I guess you were just looking out for Marco. I was worried you were like… dating or something.” 

   Instinctively, Reiner tenses at Jean’s words, suddenly feeling panicked that he’d befriended the wrong person. If Jean was the type of person who disagreed with same sex relationships then Reiner knew he was going to have to make his excuses fast. A ball forms in the pit of his stomach, churning the beer in all the wrong ways. 

   “Uh, no, no, it’s not… it’s not like that with Marco, he’s my roommate…” 

   “No!” interrupts Jean, propelled forward by the volume, “no, I didn’t mean it like that! I don’t… I mean I do… fuck, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was… I thought you were Marco’s boyfriend. Which is fine! If you are. Or if you’re not. It’s really fine if you’re not. I’m not either, I don’t have a… OK, this is not going how I planned.” 

   Reiner is stunned into silence at Jean’s cool-guy facade crumbling before his very eyes. So far, every interaction with Jean had involved Reiner being the bumbling, stuttering idiot and Jean being the cool, calm, and collected one able to disarm Reiner with just a glance. He’d never imagined that he’d be sitting idly by while Jean fell over his own words, apparently trying to tell Reiner something important. Jean takes a glug of beer and a deep breath before angling himself more towards Reiner. 

   “What I meant was… I thought you were dating Marco, which you’re not, and I’m happy about that, not because I disagree with it or anything that fuckin’ stupid, but… I dunno, Marco told me so much about you, and you walked in all drunk and… big, and…”    A force that Reiner would never understand takes over as he watches Jean continue to stumble over his words. In a split second’s decision, he discards his beer bottle and leans forward to bring himself level with Jean, planting a firm kiss on his mouth. The millisecond of bravery quickly subsides and Reiner is acutely aware that he might’ve done the wrong thing, until he feels Jean kiss him back, and within seconds the two fall into each other like the last two pieces of a puzzle. Something clicks in their minds as they sit and explore one another, beneath a clear night sky and away from prying eyes, and realise that they feel no apprehension. No nerves. No worries. A revelation that being with this person is as easy as breathing, and that, just maybe, things will be alright.