#Mikasa noodle

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Mozart just absolutely blowing me away with how well he’s adapting to 3 legs! Now he’s romping around at his favourite beach and Snorkel Snooting like nothing happened!

😭❤️ my booooyyyyy

[ayeyolooo]

Memory lane

2,000+ words!😓 pt 2

Yo yall what ever happened to that y/n girl?"connie asked leaning back on his chair. Eren just chuckled.

"Mann I don't know but I couldn't stand her." Eren laughed. Armin just shook his head. "Okay what did she do to y'all though?" Armin asked feeling bad about the way they used to treat you.

"She used to be a big ass snitch." Eren chuckled out. "Okay well we're grown now all that was kiddie shit." Connie said shaking his head. "Yeah I felt bad for her." Mikasa said sitting in cross cross apple sauce. "Yeah me too." Armin said,playing with his rings.

"I wonder what she's doing now." Mikasa lifted her head from Connie's lap and fixed her hair. Everyone shrugged. "Y'all know her mama the principal of our school right?" Sasha asked shoving noodles in her mouth.

"Word?" Connie asked sitting up. "Yeah ms. L/n??" Eren nodded. "Ohhhhh shiittt that's where I remember her last name from." Connie said placing his fist over his mouth.

You laid your baby hairs as paris and london sat on your bed waiting for you. You finished and put all of your hair things back onto your vanity. "Your hair is cute ma." Paris said winking and leaning back on her arms. You just smiled as you got dressed.

You took your shirt off leaving you in your bra. Your nipple piercing poked from your bra. "Bro y/n did that hurt?" London pointed to your nipple piercing. "Kinda." You chuckled as you pulled a shirt over your head, you slid on some black biker shorts .

You went in your closet and grabbed your black ysl sandals . Your shirt showed your back tattoo and your biker shorts showed your thigh tattoo.

Your speaker began playing 'what I like' by famous dex. You leaned on your bed and you began to twerk. "AYE AYE AYEEEEEEE." Paris recorded and slapped your butt. "DONT GIVE EM TOO MUCH NA Y/NNNNN." London. "You turned around to the camera and looked it up and down and stuck your tongue out showing your tongue piercing ,before turning around and twerking.

All of y'all just laughed and you stopped. You pulled your shorts down and grabbed your jacket. "Can we post it n/n?" They asked at the same time. "Yeah sure." You smiled. They mean mugged eachother. "There you go copying me again." They both said it at the same time.

"STOP COPYING ME LONDON."

"STOP COPYING ME PARIS."

The both of them said at the same time. You just laughed before facepalming.

"Alright y'all done?" You smiled. The both of them rolled their eyes at eachother before nodding their heads.

"Damn..who ever this is gotta fat ass." Connie's eyes widened at the post made by the 'londonparistwins.' Armin's head whipped over to Connie's phone so fast that he could've caught whip lash. He looked at his phone and his face grew red. Eren and Sasha looked.

"Gyatttt." The both of them said at the same time. "Aye she looks familiar." Mikasa said walking over to the group. "Right.." Eren said.

He reached over Connie's shoulder and he paused it when your face was showing. "It's bothering me that I know her face I just don't know her name." Eren whispered,with his breath fanning on Connie's ear.

Connie whipped his head around and smacked eren in the forehead. "Move bitch." Armin and Sasha started laughing loudly. As eren groaned and held his face. "School bout to start in a lil bit,y'all wanna go see what they got in the mall??" Armin nodded,"yeah sure." Everyone agreed. They all walked to their rooms and got dressed.

Armin wore a white compression shirt with a grey nike jacket and matching sweatpants and his white air forces. Don't worry they were clean. Unlike Sasha armin made sure to keep his shoes clean Mikasa walked out of her room wearing a mini skirt with a cropped top and some hightopped heel boots.

Armin's face just scrunched up as mikasa walked out into the living room. "How the fuck yoy walking in them??" Mikasa just laughed. Which showed off her smiley piercing. "The same way you walk in your slides." She shot back. Armin just chuckled and waited for everyone to finish getting dressed.

As everyone got into erens car he drove to the Nearest mall. They parked and everyone got out. They walked around getting stuff em for school. Making sure that it was appropriate. But that only applied to Sasha and mikasa.

Yeah real sexist school if you'd tell me. Anyways the group walked around with eachother. Their bags started to multiply as they went in the variety of stores. "Okay I'm hungry as shit." Connie said as everyone passed the food court. "Yeah I wanna eat something." Mikasa shrugged. Everyone made their ways to the different restaurants and orders their food. Connie and Sasha went to McDonald's, eren ,armin's and mikasa went to Panda Express.

As everyone orders their food armin looked out of the restaurants window and seen a group of girls passing by. They all were laughing with eachother  as they went into  a nearby shoe store.

Armin's eyes squinted. He noticed that them was them twins and that girl that he seen on Connie's phone. He just cleared his throat and moved up in the line. He ordered his food and stood to the side.

"Yo armin." Eren said catching armin's attention. "Yeah?" Armin replied. "I'm gonna go sit with the group out there." Eren pointed to the table where Connie, Sasha and mikasa are all sitting at. "Okay." He replied and waited for his food.

"Yeah gurl they look like them kids that made me leave from titans middle." You whispered to paris and london. Paris just mean mugged the table as you all walked into the Panda Express.

"It's okay though cause I met you all." You said smiling and wrapping your arms around the twins. They just laughed and walked up to the line.

"Hello what can I get you today?" A worker asked smiling at you. "Oh can I get  um a steak bowl?" You asked looking at the menu. "Of course! The steak is now going on the grill, do you mind waiting?" She worker asked tapping on the screen and looking over to you.

"Of course!" You smiled. She smiled and asked you to move to the side where one other person was standing. As you walked over you were on your phone not paying attention.

You stood in the line as armin looked around the store trying to see if there was anything he missed while he was waiting for his food. Armin looked at you and his heart dropped down to his butthole. "Y/n?" Armin called out.

You lifted your head up from your phone and your head jerked back trying to see who called you. You looked infront of you and you seen this tall fine white man.

His undercut was messy,and he had nice plump pink lips. He had an arm sleeve tattoo and a nose piercing. His hands seemed to have some type of ink on it. His blue eyes started down at you with dead eyes as you looked at him. "Armin..?" You asked. "Hi y/n." Armin said smiling and tucking his hands in his pocket.

"ARMINNNN!!" You ran and jumped on him as he caught you. "Hi y/n." He chuckled out placing his tatted hand underneath your plump butt. Your slide fell off as you wrapped your legs around his small waist. The bystanders eating their food all awe’d at the wholesome moment infront of them.His arms flexed as he held you. He gently placed you down as you slide your biker shorts down and hopped over to your shoe since you didn't want your foot touching the ground. Armin seen that you were trying to get your shoe so he bent down and slid your shoe on your foot.

You held onto his shoulder as you balanced. "So how have you been?" He asked smiling down at you.

"I've been good." You chuckled slowly. He nodded. "That's good." He said looking at you. "I'm so sorry how we left off." Armin apologized. "Boy please that was long ago ion care bout that we was kids." You chuckled. Armin just looked down in guilt as you laughed.

"Boy relax you good I promise." You laughed and covered your mouth.

Oh my she's so cool.. and her nails are beautiful.

"Aye..who armin talking to??" Connie looked into the Panda Express window and seen you and armin talking. "Wait shit who is that!!?" Eren asked squinting.

"Why should it matter who it is?? If armin wants to tell us then he will stop being weirdos and spying on him." Sasha brought her Big Mac up to her mouth and took a big bite.

Connie just mean mugged her. "Okay ms.disco ball." Sasha just rolled her eyes and chewed her food before swallowing. "Ya mama.." she said rolling her eyes.

"Your ankles." Connie shot back as Sasha just waved him off and brought her milkshake straw up to her lips and drank some.

"Yo mf granny." Sasha said mean mugging him and sipping more of her milkshake. "Where your man at?" Connie asked mugging her. "Cause obviously Niccolo ain't putting in work cause yo ass still built like a door." Mikasa choked on her sprite as eren covered his mouth and Jean choked on his chicken sandwich.

Mikasa just bursed out laughing as Jean and eren joined her. "Bald head bitch." Sasha said mugging him and cracking a smile. 

Armin stuffed his hands inside of his pockets as the both of you talked. "I haven't seen you since middle school." Armin said as you nodded.

"Yeah,I needed to get away." You said with a little smile. "Y'all wasn't very nice to me." You said with a closed lip smile. "I'm so sorry for that,we was all dickheads and if I'm being honest all of us had a crush on you." Armin admitted.

You choked on your spit as he just chuckled out. "Even mikasa?" You asked. "Yes,even mikasa." He said with a pearly white smile.

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Oh." You said cracking your knuckles. "Y/n! Armin!" One of the workers called both you and armin. The both of you looked towards the lady and walked.

The both of you traded instagrams and followed eachother back.

You grabbed your food and Armin grabbed his. "Do you want to go and see them?" Armin asked as you shook your head no. "Nah not yet." You said smiling and holding your food. Armin just licked his lips and looked you up and Down slowly.

"Boyyy don't be looking at me like datttttt." You said covering your mouth. "My bad ma." He said. "Can I get your number?" He asked,and you placed your hand up to your chin tapping it almost as if you were in thought. You were obviously joking. Armin just shook his head and laughed.

"Yeah." You said as armin handded you his phone,and you handed him your phone. You were cheesing real hard as he was also smiling with a lil red on his cheeks.

"Ight imma speak to you later?" Armin looked at you. "Yeah." You said. He brought you into an hug and rocked you from side to side. You pulled away and waved at him before catching up to paris and london.

Everyone watched as armin walked back to the table with a neutral face,the only reason he wasn't cheesing real hard like he was in the inside was because he didn't have time for them being all in his business.

"Soooo who was that? She was fine as hellll." You would be surprised.

"Why yall in my business?" He asked sitting down and opening his steak bowl and taking a spoon full. He looked up and seen the whole table looking at him.

"Who was it?" Sasha asked. Connie sucked his teeth. "Werent you the one talm bout 'oh leave him alone that's his private life.' Connie said in a high pitched voice,mocking Sasha.

"Haha funny dickhead." Sasha sarcastically said and rolled her eyes at him. "She's an old friend." He simply said and sipped on his drink. "Why you always lyinggggggg." Jean started off. "Ohhhh my Godddddd." Connie sung. "Stop fucking lyingggggg." Sasha finished.

"Listen ion gotta tell y'all everything that I do." Armin said standing his ground and staying quiet with his answers.

Eren just sipped his straw as he scrolled through Instagram. "OHHH SHIT." Eren suddenly shouted drawing the attention of other shoppers. "Fuck y'all looking at?" He shouted as the quicky turned their heads.

Sasha quietly giggled as Connie chuckled and shook his head. "I found that shawty that he was talking to" eren said finding your tag on instagram. "They tagged her in the corner and I found ittt." Eren said tapping on your profile. He sucked his teeth. "It's private." He said as everyone but armin groaned.

Armin just smiled and bit into his straw. "Ohhh so his behind over there laughing cause he following her." Connie said cutting his eyes at armin. Armin just shrugged and stood up. "Ight I'm finna go home." Armin said clapping everybody up and leaving.

As he was leaving a short petite girl came walking into armin's way. "Hey." Armin just looked down at the gurl with a straight face. "Yo." He said. "Can I get your Instagram? So we could talk? I find you really attractive." She said. Armin sipped his drink. "Nah." He said before walking off.

Mikasa,and Sasha winced from afar and slightly cringed at the awkwardness flowing their way

I’m sorry if it was boring and too long😓. Are they too long 😖? Anyways Jesus loves you ml🫶🏾!

[seeingivy]

new year's day

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: reader mentions insecurity, connie and reiner teasing you, smooching, levi being a dad for ten minutes straight, sukuna cameo

an: I MISSED YOU POOKIES SO MUCH. SO SO MUCH. war (my 9-5) is over. this ended up at 9k, I hope it can compensate for the wait. ALSO VERY IMPORTANT WE'VE REACHED OUR FIRST TAYLOR SONG OF THE FIC. you can listen to new year's day from reputation before reading - it'll make the end part make more sense <3 (me furthering my turning people into swifties agenda, I saw her last night and my brain chemistry changed)

previous part linked here

--

“Go outside and look at the moon.” 

“No. I’m really comfortable in my bed.” 

“Oh, come on Y/N. Just go outside.”

You grumble some nice profanities at Eren over the phone as you shuffle out of your sheets, pushing open your window to stick your head out. The breeze in the air is cold, the frigid atmosphere invading your already freezing room.

Erwin won’t justify turning on the heater. There are only four people in the townhouse right now - you, Levi, Hange, and Erwin (which is totally not your worst nightmare) - and apparently, that doesn’t justify heater use at all. Luckily enough, Eren and his very convincing angry face will arrive tomorrow to save you from your eternal winter. 

“S’cold, Jaeger.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Do you see the moon?” 

You crane your head up, twisting back in the window to look at it. A small crescent pressed against the sky, just slightly hidden beneath the clouds. 

“Yes, Eren. I see the moon.” 

“Okay. Now look to your right.” 

“Are we playing Simon Says?” 

“STOP SASSING ME AND JUST DO IT.” 

You’re thrown off by the irritation in his voice, and you turn over, peeking your head entirely out to look to the right. 

“Very exciting views, Eren. It’s literally pitch black.” 

You don’t see much, just the tandem bike you set out for tomorrow - when Eren would be here and not berating you through the phone - and the small patch of flowers that are by the front door. 

“I meant your other right, Y/N.” 

You shift your head to the left and see Eren standing there, his green hoodie pulled over his head and a cheeky smile pressed into his face. 

You drop your phone flat on the floor, running (falling) down the steps out into the cold air, your socks against the cold pavement as you run out to greet him. 

He’s already holding his arms open, which you run into, as you burrow your face into his shoulder, his warm arms squeezing around your frame and his laugh in your ears. 

“You were supposed to come tomorrow, Eren.” 

“And yet I’m here today, Y/N.” 

“Shut up. You know what I meant.” 

“Flight got moved up. And maybe I just wanted some time in the house where it’s just you and me - you know, without Mikasa interrupting us every two seconds.” 

You laugh as you and Eren sling your arms around each other’s shoulders, trudging out of the cold and into the kitchen. 

Before you can even mention it, Eren’s pulling out two bowls, and you’re grabbing the ramen packets, the two of you leaning against the counter as you watch the water boil. As excited as you are to see him and actually to be near him, there isn’t really much to talk about. 

You guys literally talk every single day. 

“How’s the song coming?” 

You groan, leaning into his shoulder as he laughs, his hand coming around your shoulder to rest in your hair. But it’s better. Because you can see him with your own eyes, hear him with your own ears, feel him with your own hands. 

“Bad. I’m never going to finish it.” 

“You’ll finish it. Plus, Armin’s coming soon, and he knows how to rhyme and stuff.” 

“That’s not the problem. I feel like the lyrics work when I can figure out the backing tracks and the music. But I keep getting tangled up because I can’t figure out the piano.” 

He reaches forward, opening the packets of noodles and dipping them into the water as you start chopping up the vegetables on the side. 

“I play piano, Y/N. I can help you if you want.” 

“No. That would just be more embarrassing. I get super frustrated when I’m writing. It would be infinitely worse if you were there watching me fail.” 

He rolls his eyes as he takes the knife from your hand, lightly pushing you to the side to watch the noodles. 

“You’re not going to fail. Let me help you. No one gets a hit on the first try, stupid.” 

“Don’t call me stupid, idiot.” 

“My bad, dumbass.” 

“Language, Eren,” Levi says from behind you two. 

You watch a smile spread across Eren’s face as he moves, running past the side of the counter to give Erwin, Hange, and a now-annoyed Levi a hug. Hange and Erwin are ruffling his hair, Hange cooing about how their little stars are back together again. 

Eren joins you again at your side as you're dishing out the food, Erwin pulling out a stack of papers as you and Eren start eating at the counter. 

“Business.” 

“Go ahead, Erwin.” Eren says, handing you the hot sauce before you can even reach for it. 

“So. Final scripts. As you’ll see, there aren't too many big scenes for you this season. It’s mostly focusing on this whole Utgard Castle arc, which you’re both not in.” Erwin explains. 

“Okay, that’s-” you say. 

“That doesn’t mean you both can slack off. There are more scenes for the rest of them because we need you two to nail the scenes you are in. Eren - this whole Colossal Titan reveal, you need to put everything you’ve got into it. If you think I’ve pushed you hard before, you’re in for a whole different playing field this season.” Levi says, glaring at Eren. 

You watch Eren roll his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he agrees and starts flipping through the script. 

“And you too, Y/N. This whole “Thank You” scene at the end - the majority of the dialogue falls on you. But you need to deliver in all ways. You better be acting with your eyes, your mind, your entire being. This is the type of scene you both could get nominated for as awards that’ll get you more roles. Take it seriously.” Levi continues. 

At the mention of awards, you and Eren both perk your ears up, flipping to the end of the script to the scenes tabbed at the ends with your name on it. You quickly run your eyes through the scene and the staging and feel your throat constrict at the staging lines right in the middle, bolded. 

Y/N leans forward, grabs Eren by the collar, and presses the softest kiss to his lips. It’s not overly passionate or sensational, but to the two of them, it’s a simple message. One they’ve known all along, maybe since they first met - in that cabin all those years ago.

I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it. 

You feel your eyes widen as you look up at Hange and Levi, the words spilling out of your mouth. 

“You want us to kiss?” 

“Huh?” 

At your words, Eren’s leaning over into your space, reading the line marked, and suddenly your cheeks are both burning pink. You both give each other a glance, which only makes it more awkward, as you shuffle as far away from each other as possible. 

“Yeah. It’ll fit the scene. It’s just one kiss, maybe two if we don’t get it on the first take.” Hange says nonchalantly as they start flipping through the rest of the highlighted script. 

As Erwin, Hange, and Levi start milling through their own conversations - discussing sets, costumes, that scene - you squeak out something that stops them in their tracks. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

Hange’s eyes light up as they nearly jump to your side, taking your cheeks into their hands and teasing you. They flip you around so you’re facing Eren, which you’ve been avoiding this entire time, and start whispering into your ear. 

“Aw, isn’t he so sweet? It’ll be so nice to have your first kiss with your best friend, someone you trust.” 

“Uh, I-” 

“Cmon. Eren won’t bite now, will he?” 

Eren awkwardly pads to the other side of the room, shoving his face into his script, as Levi comes over and yanks Hange by the hair, muttering something about how they need to stop teasing you. 

“Another thing. While they’re filming the Utgard Castle scenes, you’re both not really in, you’re both going on a press junket. We’ll all be there as well.” 

“The rest of the cast too?” 

“No, just you two, Eren. They’re all going to finish filming so we can maximize time and all that. You’ll return on New Year’s Day to film that last scene.” 

“Can we come back earlier? Y/N’s birthday is on New Year’s Eve. She should be here to celebrate with everyone and not on a stuffy plane.” 

“Fine. You’ll come back that day. And then the scene is the day after.” 

Hange, Erwin, and Levi give the two of you a curt nod as they pad back upstairs, leaving you, Eren, and your two bowls of ramen in the kitchen. You and Eren take the bowls and place them on the table, eating silently. 

It’s still hanging in your mind. In a little less than a month, you’re going to be kissing Eren. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yeah, Eren?” 

“I haven’t kissed anyone either.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“I just mean, it doesn’t have to be awkward. We’ll just…figure it out together. And it’s you and me, so it won’t be weird.” 

You smile, watching the last of your noodles swirl around the bowl as his words seep into your head. Right. It is just you and Eren. You’re best friends. It’s just one kiss. Or maybe two. It’s not a big deal. 

“Yeah. You and me, Eren.” 

He smiles in response, the awkwardness lifting off of you as you both finish eating. 

- 

The second Connie, Reiner, and Ymir make it back on set, their incessant teasing starts. They read the scripts. Kissy faces, smooching sounds, purposely pushing you and Eren into corners together just so they can tease you. 

“Eren. Are you excited to kiss, Y/N?” 

“Shut up, Connie.” 

“Is this your first kiss together? You must be sooo excited, Y/N.” 

“Okay, Reiner. Are you excited for your weird pervert lines about Historia?” 

The entire room laughs, Historia and Mikasa coming over to yank you out of the corner and sit at the table with them as you all catch up. Armin’s going around - taking pictures of everyone for our first day of filming with his Polaroid - as he starts labeling them all. 

There’s one of Reiner and Bertholdt - in their iconic fists to each other’s back poses - labeled “pervert and giraffe” by Connie. 

Another one of Sasha sleeping face first on the table from her jet lag while Connie and Jean are spraying whipped cream into her hair, labeled “connie springer, ultimate menace” 

And another one of you and Eren, fist-bumping each other, labeled “l/n-jaegers, season two” 

Connie films his first incriminating video ten minutes after that. It's Eren tucking your hair behind your ear. 

- 

You yank your earphones out as you crunch the pebbles under your feet, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes. When Armin walks up next to you, he’s immediately leaning his head on your shoulder, his eyes sleepily shut as you wait for everyone else to join. 

It’s five in the morning. And you really, really hate Hange for this. 

You’re all supposed to be filming a scene two hours away, in the snowcaps. It’s meant to be a flashback scene, primarily for Ymir and Historia, which is why you’re pissed that you had to wake up this early anyways. The light is barely peeking into the sky, the hues still a dark navy as everyone strolls out of the townhouse. 

Jean’s grumbling profanities, Mikasa’s dragging Connie out, and Sasha's the only one who’s really awake. Erwin slides open the bus door, and you trudge in, sliding into the first seat. 

You're leaning your head against the glass, ice cold, as you try to flutter your eyes closed again to rest a little bit on the drive over. You feel a shifting in the seat next to you and two hands on your head, moving you through space. 

You peek your eyes open to find Eren, placing your forehead against his shoulder instead of the glass. 

“Huh, what-” 

“Sorry, Y/N. Didn’t mean to wake you. Just figured it would be more comfortable this way.” he whispers, lightly pulling the hood of your jacket back over your head. 

You nestle more into his shoulder, letting the weight of your head fall entirely onto his shoulder as he readjusts under you, his arm splayed across your back. You feel his head resting on top of yours, your breaths in tandem as you both shut your eyes and drift off to a very unrestful and bumpy sleep. 

You wake up two hours later to the flash of a camera. And when you open your eyes, Armin and Connie are smirking at you, holding up the Polaroid of you and Eren sleeping in front of your face and then running out the bus. 

You frown as you rub your eye sockets with your knuckles, readjusting your hair and cracking out your neck. 

"Fuck Erwin for getting Armin that camera." 

“I really hope they’re not there when we have to kiss each other, Eren. They’re never going to let us hear the end of it.” 

“You and me both.” 

He holds his hand out, helping you up from the chair as you both pull on your jackets and join everyone else in the snow. 

“Sleep well?” 

You and Eren turn your heads to find Marco standing beside you, a shy smile on his face. You and Eren both reach forward, pulling your arms around him as you start talking at the same time, shocked at his presence. 

“Marco. What the fuck? What are you doing-” 

“You didn’t even tell us you were coming! That’s so messed up. You bitch.”  

He pulls back, a hand resting on both of your shoulders as he smiles, the look soft. 

“Sorry, guys. I wanted it to be a surprise. I’ll be here after you’re back from the press junket, too, Y/N. For your birthday.” 

You smile at him, giving him one more hug as he ruffles your hair, the two of you linking arms as you wait to film the scene at hand. After you film the aforementioned extremely short scene - which just makes you more aggravated at Levi and Hange because why the hell did you have to come out here for that - the lot of you head into the cabin, peeling off your snow coats and settling into the seats. 

Armin and Eren settle at the window, the two of them teaching each other card tricks while Bertholdt follows Sasha to rummage for snacks. Mikasa and Reiner run off to explore the upper level of the cabin as you and Marco sit flat against the wall, watching everyone walk around. 

“How are you, Y/N?” 

“Okay, Marco. How are you?” 

“I meant. Regarding everything we talked about last time and all that.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

The last time you saw Marco was when he came to visit you and stay with your family for a week. It was an impromptu trip after you mentioned to him that things weren’t going so great. Granted, he was only an hour away from filming a short film and had the time to spare, but it still meant the world. 

He places a hand on the top of your knee as you look over at Eren, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he starts talking. 

“You doing okay? Seriously?” he asks. 

“It feels better when I’m here. With you guys. Especially you, now that you’re here. I feel most normal here and wildly out of place when I’m home.” 

He sighs, squeezing your knee as you watch Eren place his card down, a victorious screech leaving his mouth as Armin rolls his eyes. 

“I can’t say I understand. We all went to the SHWA when we were so little, and I guess there was always some understanding that we’d be…in the spotlight. Scrutinized. No grocery stores or going to the beach, or any of that. Those things wouldn’t be normal. There was really no…normal to go back to.” 

You reach down, holding his hand, as you tilt your head back on the wall. 

“I don’t know. It’s weird. Sometimes it feels like I can’t even be normal without people picking apart everything I do. I knew this was something I wanted badly but never figured it would be like this.” 

“Yeah. I know the feeling.” he responds. 

Eren looks over from his spot on the windowsill, eyebrows scrunched together in frustration now as he mouths the words. 

You okay?

You nod, albeit halfheartedly, as Marco pulls you up, the two of you scooting into the kitchen. 

“Did you tell him about any of this?” 

“No.” “Don’t be silly, Y/N. The first thing they say at the SHWA is to rely on the people around you. The ones who understand.” 

“I do rely on the people around me. I’m talking to you right now.” 

He reaches forward to flick your forehead, the spot stinging.

“Ouch, asshole.” 

“I’m not a series regular anymore. And he’s the person you should tell. He’d want to know.” 

You roll your eyes at him as Sasha comes up, splitting half of her chocolate bar with you. Armin and Eren amble in a little while later, the lot of you all standing in the kitchen, watching Connie shove as many marshmallows as he can into Reiner’s mouth. 

Armin takes a picture. Labels it “chubby bunny gone wrong” when Reiner’s choking over the sink.

- 

The press junket is insane. You and Eren are spending three days, all at the same convention, doing panels together. All while trying to memorize the lines for your kiss scene. Levi and Erwin said to meet as many people as the two of you could socialize as much as you can. Answer questions about the show for fans without letting Eren spoil the show. 

The first interview was a get-to-know-the-actors test. You and Eren are tasked with asking each other simple questions and talking about them. It should be easy. As the camera beeps red for recording, Eren turns to the side and starts. 

“My name is Eren Jaeger, and I’m one of the cast members of Attack on Titan.” 

“And I’m Y/N L/N, and I’m also from the cast of Attack on Titan. We’re going to be doing an interview today for you to get to know us better!” 

Eren leans forward, giving you a warm smile as you talk. He reaches forward, reading off the question on the first card. 

“Y/N. Did you take anything home from the set?” 

You turn to the side, making a fake warning face into the camera. 

“Levi, if you’re watching, stop.” 

Eren laughs as you turn back to him, trying to ignore the lights blaring in your eyes. 

“Um. I totally accidentally took one of the scarves home. But that was an accident. Did you take anything?” 

“I stole one of Armin’s polaroids from the wall. I keep it in my wallet. And I totally stole one of the ODM gear swords.” 

“Huh? What do you even do with that?” 

“Threaten my brother.” 

“Oh my god, Eren. Jesus. Which polaroid did you take?” 

“I have it, actually.” 

Eren smiles at you as he yanks his wallet out of his pocket, handing the shiny white Polaroid over. You smile as you remember the day, the picture being of you and Eren with your ramen bowls. Armin’s inscription says, “sosuke and ponyo.” You hold it up to the camera before handing it back to Eren, making a mental note to steal one of Armin’s Polaroids too. 

“Okay, Eren. Your question is…who is the first person you call when you get good news?” 

His cheeks turn pink as he pinches the bridge of his nose, rolling his eyes at the camera. 

“This is kind of cheesy.” 

“Huh, Eren?” 

“The person I call is you.” 

You smile, twiddling with the end of your braids as you respond. 

“My answer is you too.” 

He smiles back, the two of you getting through the rest of the questions and thanking the crew team in the filming room. As you and Eren swing out of the door, he pulls the tiny little sheet Levi had made for the two of you out of his pocket, looking where to go next. You’re leaning so close into his space to read the little sheet that you can smell his minty gum, the smell filling your nose. 

You’re going to the networking event. 

You and Eren slide into the hallway, a big expensive conference room filled with people milling around. Almost everyone is nursing a glass of red wine in their hands, all adults talking over and around you as you both awkwardly stand at the front. You instinctively reach down for Eren’s hand, the two of you locking fingers as you move forward. 

You both naturally lean against the wall, watching everyone walk around as you enter the room. All men. Well, almost all men. But from what you can tell, the only other women in the room are actresses - the producers, directors, screenwriters - they’re all men. 

“Does it feel weird to you here, Eren?” 

“Kind of. I can’t really place what it is, but it doesn’t really feel like we’re allowed to be here.” 

You’re both significantly younger than almost everyone in this room. And they’re all drinking. Talking about god knows what. You try to scan the room - looking for Erwin, Hange, or Levi but come out dry from your search. Eren must be sensing your unease because he’s leading you toward the doors, ready to yank the two of you out of the situation. 

But before he can, a man stops him, tapping him on the shoulder to talk to him. You both stop in your tracks, half turning around to look at him. He’s extremely tall, looming over the two of you, and you feel infinitely small in front of him. He looks at Eren, a self-assured smile pressed on his face as he introduces himself. 

“Scott Clarkson. I’m a producer for Stone Studios.” 

“I’m Eren Jaeger. This is-” 

“I know who you are, Eren. I was invited to see one of the first cuts of the latest movie you just filmed and-” 

Before you can even understand what’s happening, he has his hand on Eren’s shoulder, and they’re walking down the length of the hall, the end of their conversation lost to you. Eren looks back, and you give him a halfhearted smile as he tries to turn back before getting stuck in a larger group of people. 

You make your way back against the wall, sliding into one of the farthest chairs and swirling a cup of lemonade in your hands. You watch the pulp of the lemon dissolve into your cup as you aggressively swirl, the drops landing on the black of your skirt. 

It’s moments like this where you feel like you don’t belong. Marco’s words swirl through your mind, that this type of stuff is normal for them because they have no normal to return to, but you can’t help but feel other to them even if they are where you feel most comfortable.

Eren’s on the other side of the room, now stuck in a big group and laughing with producers and casting directors and talking about movies he’s filming and what he has lined up next. You’re on the other side of the room, sulking against the wall - you’d be shocked if they even knew who you were. 

You’re not jealous of him. If anything, it’s everything Eren deserves and more. He’s always been phenomenal. But that’s just the thing, he’s everything and you’re not even on the same playing field. 

Sometimes, it feels like Eren’s too good to be your friend. Your co-star. Someone you’re around. You can feel your knuckles turning white against the plastic of the cup, crushing against your hand. 

“You know, if you do that any harder, you’re going to spill it all over yourself. Then I’ll have to take my pants off so you don’t look like an idiot.”  

You look up to find Sukuna smiling at you, with Nobara and Maki rolling their eyes at him. You hop up, crushing Nobara and him in a hug and physically feeling the unease untangle in your chest. 

“Hi. I’m really glad you’re here I-” 

“This shit always sucks. I have no idea why we’re forced to come to these things.” Maki says, sliding into the seat on your left. Sukuna sits to your right, his arm resting across the back of your chair as the four of you whisper, well, more like the three of them explaining who all the producers in the room are, as you sit there. 

“Hey Sukuna.” 

“Hm, doll?” 

“That guy. The one talking to Eren. Who is he?” 

He squints his eyes as he cranes around the room, trying to find where you’re pointing at Eren. And when he does, you watch his eyes widen before he talks again. 

“Ah. That’s Clarkson. He’s kind of an asshat.” 

“What? Why?” 

“No, he’s just a dick. A really great producer makes super cool movies, but he’s…not the best. All that shit you hear about the industry running people dry, taking advantage of people. They’re talking about him. And his lot.” Nobara explains, glaring daggers at him. 

“Not his entire lot, Nobara. His daughter is fine.” Sukuna says, reaching over to you and Maki to flick her cheek. 

“She’s a bitch. You’re just saying that because you’re dating her.” Nobara responds, flicking him back. 

“Who's a bitch?” 

The four of you break apart, still leaning over each other, to find Eren, Levi, and a short girl with brown hair staring at you. 

“No one, Hyla.” Nobara says, grumbling as she and Maki stand up. Levi gets side-swiped into a conversation. He looks like he’d rather be five feet under than whatever he was talking about as the six of you stand up. You hold your hand out, introducing yourself to Hyla. 

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Hyla Clarkson. Your dad was the one who acted in Interstellar, right?” 

“No. That’s Historia’s dad, but I get the confusion. We’re just from the same show.” 

You watch her eyebrows pinch up in confusion as she crosses her hands around her chest. 

“Oh! Was your mom the one in Moonrise Kingdom?” she asks. 

“Nope. I-” 

“So what film were they-” 

“My parents are dentists. They’re not really in the industry like that.” you ramble out, trying to spare yourself from any more embarrassment. 

She smiles, the expression not meeting her eyes, as she reaches down and links her hand with Sukunas. 

“That’s really sweet, actually. Humble beginnings and all that,” she says. 

“I think it’s pretty cool. Like yeah, we all land roles because our parents kind of help us get them in some way. But, Y/N worked her way to the lead of the show, sans famous parents. It’s a testament to true talent. ” Eren says, his voice firm.

“I agree. L/N has always been badass, especially on the screen.” Maki says, glaring at Hyla altogether. 

She rolls her eyes as she reaches into the pocket of her dress, taking out a shiny silver card and handing it to Eren. 

“Eren. This is my dad’s card. He wanted me to give you another one unless you lost it.” Hyla says, giving Eren a hug before she walks away. 

You both wait outside for Levi to join you, quietly standing against the wall. You watch Eren turn over the card in his hands before ripping it up, slashing right through Scott Clarkson’s shiny name in the middle. 

“That’s a bit harsh, Eren. He’s a really good producer from what I’ve heard,” you say. 

“Don’t care. We’ll get there on our own - we don’t need leg-ups from guys like that.” 

You smile as you lean your head on Eren’s shoulder, the anxious feeling still tingling in your chest. Levi makes his way out, giving you two a smile as you both get dragged to your next panel, individual interviews. 

You go first. The interviewer is a pale blonde girl with a stack of cards in her hand. 

“Y/N. Who's your favorite male co-star on set?” 

“Oh, um. That’s a hard question to ask, we’re all friends.” 

You can tell she’s not satisfied with your answer by her uptight posture, the irritation rolling out of her mouth. 

“Oh, don’t pick a cop-out answer. Who's your favorite male co-star? Is it Eren?” 

“Um, sure? He’s my best friend on set. But I like everyone.” 

She smiles, switching to her next card. 

“Fans have picked up on matching bracelets you and Eren have been wearing during this press tour. Can you comment on the story behind them?” 

“Oh, sure! It was last year, at the Savant Awards TV show awards. A pair of sweet fans gifted them to us.” 

She doesn’t comment any further on the story, switching to the next card as you swirl the bracelet around on your wrist, concealing Eren’s name on the beads against the inner part of your wrist. You have a feeling that what you just said will already get twisted into something it’s not, which in the worst way, distorts the entire thing for you together. 

“Okay, well, that’s all I have for you.” 

You give her a smile as you switch seats, taking Eren’s previous seat. Hange places a hand on your head, and you watch them share a look with Levi as Eren takes the seat.  

“You’re a phenomenal actor, Eren. What gets you in the zone on set?” 

“Thank you so much! I usually have to take a second before I start filming a scene just to get in the right headspace. Especially for scenes that I film with Y/N, I usually need her to be right there next to me just so I can…feel the scene before we film it.” 

The interviewer smiles, sliding to the next card as she asks Eren the questions. She couldn’t be this cheery and enthusiastic for you?

“Do you have any pre-filming rituals before you get on set and start filming?” she asks.

“I need to eat a bowl of ramen with Y/N before we start. It’s not like a good luck thing or anything, but we’ve just always started our day like that and now we just have to do it before we go on and film.” Eren responds, looking over to give you a smile. 

You give him a thumbs up as he keeps going, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that all of Eren’s questions are about his upcoming roles, his acting techniques, his favorite parts of acting, and how yours were all about him. Granted, Eren somehow brings you up in almost every question he answers - even if it’s not explicitly related to you - which only makes the entire thing fester in your mind more. 

What are people going to say about it? This would just make what everyone says about you guys worse. 

Not that it’s bad, but they just…say things. Granted, everyone had been saying things since the start, but you’ve always chalked that up to the fact that you and Eren are closer than everyone else is. And you know how the two of you are, but everyone else seems to have their own opinions about it. And maybe you should try to stop it? But if that’s how you are, who are you to change and-

“You okay?” 

Eren’s taken the seat next to you, leaving Erwin to get interviewed next. You’re both slumped into the chairs at the back, Levi and Hange whispering in hushed voices in front of you. You can’t help but wonder if they felt this way when they were filming La La Land, but then again, they had no reason to deny anything that anyone said. They were actually together. 

“Yeah. Just want to go home.” 

He frowns as he brings a hand to the top of your head, leaning it to rest on his shoulder again. His cold fingers are in your scalp, pressing against the pulsating headache you’d been ignoring for the past hour, soothing the feeling. 

Should you guys really be sitting like this if there are cameras five feet away? And what if-

“Do you want to take a walk? We can go look for lemonade or something.” 

You nod as you both stand up, giving Hange and Levi a wave as you walk off. You’re slowly ambling behind Eren as he looks around for the drinks, the entire day replaying in your mind. 

You just want to go back to set. Have Mikasa tell you goodnight, eat breakfast with Sasha, play cards with Armin. None of this press junket, stupid interviewers, uncomfortable producers business. 

You feel a tugging on your arm, and you look back to find two girls looking at you. They can’t be much older than you, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with matching Attack on Titan shirts. With your face on it. 

“Hi. We’re Sarah and Sofia. We’re really, really big fans of the show. We were wondering if we could get a picture with you?” 

“Oh! Yeah, of course. I’d love to.” you respond. 

You take a few pictures with them before handing them their phones back. 

“Are you guys enjoying the panels?” 

“Yes! We’ve gone to every single one of yours, you’ve been doing really well.” 

You can feel your cheeks burning at their praise, reaching forward to hold both of their hands as you talk. 

“You guys are too kind. And I really, really love the shirts. Did you make them yourselves?” 

“Yeah! We also drove down two hours just to come watch, it’s been such a good weekend. We really, really admire you for what you’ve done. It seems like we hardly ever see “normal” people in the media. But every time we watch you do an interview, you always bring up our favorite songs and slang that we use, it just…makes it feel like there’s someone like us on the screen.” 

You squeeze their hands, the tears welling in your eyes as you fight them down while responding. 

“I promise, I’m a thousand times more like you than any of them, in more ways than you’d think. And…you could do it too. It’s like you said, we’re one and the same.” 

They’re smiling so brightly at you that it’s making your heart squish in your chest, the feeling all warm and gooey and self-soothing. Right. You can do it. Who gives a fuck if a stupid reporter or these people think you’re lame - the people who watch your show are the ones that matter. 

“We love you so much. You’re so, so sweet. You’re literally the nicest celebrity we’ve ever met. I’m sure you have to run soon - I can see Eren back there staring bullets at us - but we hope you have a really good birthday tomorrow, and we can’t wait to meet you again.” they say. 

You wrap your arms around both of them as they both run off, excitedly talking, as you see Eren coming up to join you. He has a cup of lemonade in his right hand, the left hand reaching forward to wipe away the one tear that escaped your eyes. 

“Sure you’re okay?” 

You look over at him, green eyes looking into yours, and reach down to take his hand. 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

You nod, the two of you shuffling off to where you came from. 

- 

When you get on the plane, your impending panic of the “Thank You” scene comes back. You’re both landing on set on New Year’s Day - which is your birthday, so you won’t be filming. Levi and Hange granted you the night off, and Eren says the two of you can go get slushies when you land. But then you’re filming the scene the next morning. You’re both still stuck on the plane for another seven hours running through the lines. 

“Listen, you’ve always been at my side...thank you.”

You drop the script onto the table and groan loudly, to which Eren laughs in response. 

“It-it’s falling flat. This scene is too serious, I-we’re going to have to do a million takes.”

“It’s fine- we’ll just practice a lot.” 

You switch seats so you’re right next to Eren, the two of you looking down at your scripts and switching. You read each other’s stage notes - you both have a habit of writing notes to help remember lines and blocking - which you’ve found helps reading each other's notes helps you stay in line. Like you’re in each other’s head. 

You read through his little scribbles - keep eye contact, start crying here, practice this. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“When you say practice this, you mean…” 

He leans over, eyes going wide as he snatches his own script back, face burning. The arrow saying “practice this” was pointing to the line referring to the two of you kissing.

“Were you going to practice kissing in the mirror?”

“Shut up.” 

“I think a pillow would be more sanitary. Maybe you could find a video of it on the internet or-” 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to practice with me,” Eren responds angrily. 

You can feel your throat drying, eyes met with Eren’s burning stare. 

“Um.” 

“I just thought it-it would be worse if we did it wrong. And had to keep trying, and you know that everyone’s going to come to watch us and-” 

“I guess, but-”

“You don’t have to, Y/N. I was just thinking about it, and I was going to ask. Just so we don’t…have to do it for the first time in front of cameras.” he mumbles, turning his head away to look out the window. 

You sit there for a second and think about it. Eren does have a point. Having Ymir and Reiner stand there while you kiss Eren, or anyone, for the first time would be horribly embarrassing if they were actually standing there. And it would be weird to have your first kiss for the first time in front of someone, maybe it would be a better memory if it was more isolated and someone else. 

“Okay, Eren. That actually makes sense.”

He turns back, a shocked expression spreading across his face. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, just…don’t be weird or something if it’s bad. I’ve like never really done this before, Eren and-”

“It’ll be fine. We can figure it out together. It’s just…kissing. Can’t be rocket science.” 

You nod, albeit apprehensively, as Levi and Hange join you and Eren in the seats across from you. 

“You guys doing okay?” Levi asks, pushing bottles of water toward the two of you. 

You both nod as you take in their expressions, the two of them more stern or serious than normal. Well, Hange being more stern - Levi has resting serious face. 

“We wanted to talk to you about something,” Hange says. 

“Okay. Is everything okay?” you ask. 

“The press junket. You both were exposed to many different things you really haven’t been to before and we just…want to give you our own advice before we let you go on and about in your careers.” Hange says.

“We care about you both, and there are just some things you should know. We don’t care what you do because you’re your own people, but we just want you to be warned about things you…might see.” Levi continues. 

You and Eren give each other a weary look, halfheartedly nodding at the two of them. 

“There are some producers in the industry that don’t have your best interest. I’m sure you guys have heard rumors before of what the industry is really like and what it can do to someone - we’re trusting you both to keep your heads when dealing with situations like that.” Hange says. 

“I don’t give a shit if it ruins your reputation. You don’t let them ruin you, control you, whatever. Your safety and what you’re comfortable with comes first.” Levi says. 

“Have you guys ever been....near stuff like that?” Eren asks

Levi and Hange give each other a weary look before nodding. 

“Yes. That’s why we’re telling you because no one ever told us. They’ll make you do things you don’t want to, make it feel like they control you, and take away the things important to you so they’ll know you’ll stay. Some of them are also very deep in some very, very illegal shit, so again. If you value where you are, you won’t interact with them.” Levi says. 

You both nod, reaching for each other's hands as Levi and Hange study you with their eyes.

“Eren. Y/N. Did you notice anything weird about the press junkets we did today? Or what the media says?” 

“Not really,” Eren responds. 

You look down at your hands, focusing on the way your knuckles look when they’re flexed, from clenching so hard, as they all wait for your response. But you guess your silence is enough of an answer because Hange takes that as their sign to start talking. 

“I had a feeling. What have you been thinking?” Hange asks. 

You can feel your voice getting tangled in your throat and the tears coming to fill your eyes when it comes time to explain, to tell the three of them something they might entirely reject. Or just not understand. 

“I just-the press junket was weird. It seemed like the interviewers were all asking me questions about Eren or Connie, or my other co-stars while they were asking Eren questions about his acting and what he does to get ready on set. It just feels like-that’s the only thing they care about when it comes to me. How I interact with other people.” 

Eren’s squeezing your hand - three times - as the tears are freely spilling out of your eyes. Right with the words because now that you’ve opened this can of worms, it seems like you won’t stop until they’re all out on the floor. 

“And. At the networking event, everyone wanted to talk to Eren and not to me. And it’s not that I’m jealous of him because I want Eren’s dreams to come true just as much as mine, but it…just feels like I’m less than. Like I’m stupid for even trying because my parents are just dentists in a small town, and the only acting I’ve done before this was in a very shitty small-scale production of Hamilton at my middle school.” 

Hange and Levi scoot into the seats at your sides, Hange’s arms around you on your left and Eren’s around you on your right. Hange and Eren are squeezing your hands, Levi’s hand softly running through the strands of your hair as you sniffle through all the tears. 

“I’m sorry, kid, but this part doesn’t go away. Especially because you’re a girl, something about that makes people think they have the right to the most heinous things about you. They’ll criticize anything and everything you do. You’ll learn to roll with the punches because, at the end of the day, you’re here to make art. Let that do the talking for you.” Hange says. 

“I know. I just have to ignore them. Plus, there are nice people out there who really care about the show and what I do so-” you respond.

“More than just care about it, Y/N. People love you. The ones around you and people out there.” Eren says. 

“Another thing. Eren, the type of scrutiny you’ll face is nothing compared to what she’s going to face, just on principle. It’s your job to not be the asshole who turns a blind eye to that and it’s your job to defend her if it calls for it. And if anything, it should infuriate you enough anyways that-” Levi mentions, looking over the tops of your heads to look at Eren. 

“It already does infuriate me. Who gives the people the right to say anything about her when she’s one of the best ones on the show?” Eren responds, the anger spilling out of his mouth.

Levi and Hange give your hands one last squeeze before walking away, muttering something about how you should just focus on enjoying your birthday tomorrow and the scenes, leaving you and Eren in the seats again. 

“What were we talking about before?” you ask. 

“Everyone is stupid. You know that, right?” 

You sigh, leaning against the chair so you’re looking up at the top of the airplane, the white lights shining on the two of you. 

“I know that logically. But sometimes, it just kind of sits in my head. Repeating, and I try to convince myself it’s not true, but-”

“I’ll convince you.” 

“What?” 

“Just tell me. I’ll convince you. You could have told me before too and whenever you want. I’ll drop whatever it is I’m doing for you if this is what you need me to do.” 

You nod, thinking of the best response. Because how do you tell him that he’s the best person you’ve ever met, and this only furthers the fact that he’s just too good for you. Because you’ve never had someone defend you or be so ready to come to your aid before that you don’t know what to do with it? 

“I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it, Y/N.” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Are you quoting the stage directions from our kiss scene?” 

“Maybe. But it’s true. And also, that’s what we were talking about before. Practicing kissing.” 

“Maybe after we go to get slushies for my birthday later?” 

“Yeah.” 

You both smile as you dig your noses back into your scripts, waiting for the plane to reach back to set. 

- 

You guys land on set the next day, around three pm. Eren and Levi woke you up on the plane with a little mini-cupcake and a candle to surprise you. Hange then smashed almost all of the frosting onto your face, which just earned them a good amount of scolding from both Eren and Hange. When you land, you and Eren head to the townhouse together, to change before getting slushies. 

“Why do you have your phone out, Eren?” 

“What? I always have my phone out.” 

“Not when you’re like…walking somewhere. And there isn’t even any wifi outside the townhouse, so I don’t even know what you’re doing on that.” 

“Can you just walk into the house, please? Do you have to question everything I do?” 

You pretend to scratch your temples, like you’re pondering his questions, as Eren rolls his eyes and lightly pushes your head, gesturing you into the house. And when you walk inside, they’re all waiting for you - the foyer of the townhouse decorated for your birthday and little party hats on all of their stupid little heads. 

They’re all singing Happy Birthday off cue - Reiner singing opera again, Connie screaming cha-cha-cha off cue, and Historia singing like she’s the next contestant of America’s Got Talent. Mikasa and Sasha bring over a cake with seventeen green candles, each of them giving you a tight hug as you blow out the candles. 

“Surprise!” Armin says, flashing the camera in your face. 

“This is so sweet, you guys. Thank you,” you say. 

“We have gifts. Come on, let’s open them.” Jean says, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the center room. 

They each hand you their gifts, excitedly watching you rip off the wrapping paper. And you get why because it seems like everyone put so much thought into their gifts that it makes your heart squeeze. Mikasa gives you a nice, leatherbound notebook so you can stop writing song lyrics on napkins, and Armin compliments her gift by buying you a nice set of green guitar picks. 

You take the time to squeeze everyone in a hug and press a kiss to Ymir’s cheek, much to her dismay, because she writes you the sweetest little birthday note that makes you cry, and Reiner buys you a vinyl player to use for when you make your own record. And when you go all around the circle, you end up back at Eren, who is seemingly empty-handed. 

“Did you get me something? You don’t have to, I just-”

“Shut up. Of course, I had to. I just can’t really wrap my gift.” Eren responds, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the closet near the front door. 

The rest of them all follow suit, watching you guys from a little distance. 

“Wow, Eren. I love it. I’ve always wanted my own closet.” 

“Shut up and open it.” 

You reach forward for the handle and swing it open, only to be met with your brothers - Colt and Falco - springing out of the closet and wrapping their arms around you. You’re squeezing the both of them so hard, so excited you’re crying because it’s literally been months on end since you’ve seen them, and you never dreamed they could even be here. 

“What are you doing here? Coco, you literally have class in like two days, and Colt so do you and-” 

“Eren flew us out for your birthday.  We’re leaving at the end of the day tomorrow.” 

You turn around, and you know you’re all teary-eyed and pink in the face, but you reach forward and squish Eren into the tightest hug known to man, eliciting cheering from the rest of them still watching you - that you entirely forgot about. 

“Eren. I love you so much. Thank you. I’ll pay you back for the plane tickets, but this really means the world to me, and I-” 

“You don’t have to pay me back. This was a gift for you, birthday girl,” he says, pinching the side of your cheek. 

- 

Nine hours later and the whole new year in the flesh, you’re scribbling lyrics into the little book Mikasa bought you. The party they threw you - fully set with games, karaoke, and a pinata that Bertholdt procured out of thin air - turned out to be so tiring that they all passed out in the foyer, sleeping on top of each other on the couch and the floor. 

“Writing a song?” 

“Yeah. I think it’s done, actually, I just need to go play it now,” you say. 

“Want me to come? I can help with the piano.” Eren asks. 

“It’s three in the morning. Aren’t you tired? And I don’t even know where the key to set is where we can access the piano.” 

Eren reaches for the closest drawer, pulling out a shiny black key and dragging you out by the hand. You both pull on jackets and run out into the dark to the tandem bike, pushing towards set while shivering in the cold air. 

And when Eren opens the set door and turns on the lights, you immediately scream and duck behind him. 

“What the fuck is that?”

“Ymir’s prosthetic titan.”

“God. Do they need to leave it at the front door? That literally scared the shit out of me.” 

He laughs, locking his hand in yours as he drags you to the piano near the back of the set. You yank your hoodie off your head, placing the lyrics on the front of the piano. 

“Okay, so. Sing it. I’ll see what chords make the most sense after.” 

You nod, going through the first verse. 

There’s glitter on the floor after the party  Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby  Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but

Eren starts playing the piano around the chorus, a light piano tune filling the air. And he’s watching you so intently as you sing the lyrics, change words around with your messy handwriting, and he thinks at this moment, with your forehead all scrunched up in concentration and your sweet voice in the air that you might be his favorite person to be around. 

Don’t read the last page But I stay, when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or we’re making mistakes I want your midnights But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day

And when you finish, he’s wrapping his arms around you, his voice so soft when he whispers in your ear that it makes the hair on your skin stand up. 

“You are…amazing. You know that?” 

“Eren. You’re so-” 

He cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth as he looks into your eyes, the look so warm, so sincere that it makes your chest tingle and your heart pound. Any denial of the fact will be met with pushback, so you drop it. 

“Thank you, Eren.” 

He smiles, dropping his hand to play the chords again and write them in the book. 

“Hey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is this song about me, Y/N?” 

“What?” 

“Well, the line. You squeeze my hand three times in the back of a taxi? Isn’t that kind of our thing? Squeezing hands three times.” 

You can feel your cheeks burning as you focus on the lyrics. And god, maybe the song is about Eren. You didn’t intend to write it that way, but he’s right. The candle wax, and the polaroids are mentioned in the song.

Those are all things you associate with him. 

“I guess so. I mean, I didn’t mean to really write it that way, but I guess that’s how it came out.” 

He smiles, a smirk on his face as he starts teasing you. 

“Am I your muse?” 

“Shut up. You’re so fucking stupid, Eren.” 

“You and me, forevermore huh?”

“Eren. Stop.”

“I’m teasing, Y/N. I like the sound of that. And the entire song, it’s really good. You should submit it to perform for the Savants.” 

“No. I could never do that.” 

He rolls his eyes as he shuts the book, swinging on the other side of the piano bench to lean against the now-closed piano. You’re both sitting silently, taking in the set when it’s so empty. Everyone’s ODM gear is labeled in the closet with their names, Eren’s prosthetic titan arms lying nearby, and Levi’s cleaning supplies. 

Eren clears his throat, breaking the silence. 

“We-um. Were supposed to get slushies yesterday.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I just got so distracted.” 

“Yeah. And.” 

“And?” 

“Weweresupposedtopracticethekiss.” he mumbles out, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. 

You feel your eyes widen as the recognition hits you. You’re supposed to kiss Eren tomorrow morning. 

“Oh, shit. That’s literally tomorrow.” 

“Yeah.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you as the pit in your stomach starts burning. 

“Do you want to practice now? Just so we’re good for tomorrow morning?” 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” 

You both awkwardly shuffle on the piano bench facing, splitting your legs between each side so you can both scoot closer to each other. And you can feel your heart beating really fast at being this close to him, all alone. 

He must sense it, because he puts his hand in yours, squeezing three times, before talking. 

“You okay? We don’t have to.”

“No. We should. I-I want to.” 

He nods, lifting his hands in the air as confusion spreads across his face. 

“You can put your hands wherever. It’s okay.” you say

“O-okay. Right, Y/N. Sorry I-” 

“Don’t worry. I’ve never done this before either.” 

He settles for cupping the side of your face with his right hand and leaving his left hand resting against the side of your waist. You place your hands against his hoodie, crumpling the fabric in your hands as you try to limit the sweat gathering on your palms. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, Y/N. You ready?” 

“Yeah.” 

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours, the sensation so strange that you forget to move your lips and freeze up against your face. You both stay there for three seconds - but it feels like an eternity. And when he pulls away, you can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face when you realize what just happened. 

You just kissed him wrong. You forgot to kiss him back. 

“Oh my god, Eren. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I was so thrown off by it, and I just made your first kiss wrong, and I-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Oh god. We’re going to fuck this up so badly tomorrow. I’m going to fuck this up so badly tomorrow. And we’re going to-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Ymir is never going to stop making fun of me. And then I’ll probably-” 

He drops his hands and reaches for your wrists, squeezing hard as he talks. 

“Y/N. Stop.” he says, his voice so soft, so earnest that it stops you in your tracks. 

“It’s okay. You didn’t mess anything up. I think you’re just…thinking about it too hard. This isn’t the kiss we’re doing for tomorrow or the show. This is just you and me, kissing here and now. So just…relax. It’s just us.”

You groan as you put your hands on your face, murmuring through your fingers. 

“How do you always say the right thing like that? It pisses me off.” 

He laughs, grabbing your wrists and placing them back on his shoulders where they were before. And when he secures his hand around your cheek and your waist again, his green eyes are shining in the set light and you think he might be your favorite person to be around. 

“Ready, Y/N?” 

“Ready.” 

And when he leans forward this time, you move your lips too, taking notice of how soft, how warm his lips feel against yours. How the sensation tingles all the way down to your stomach, makes your cheeks burn and your brain prickle. You instinctively lift your hands off his shoulders, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingertips and how his hand is only guiding your mouth closer to his like he’s pushing your lips together more than they already are. 

And when you both pull away, you’re both staring at each other - dilated eyes and swollen, pink lips. Your hands in his hair and his hands around your waist, breathless. 

When he cracks a smile, you can feel your entire resolve shattering. You make no effort to stop beaming at him the way you are, because you know you couldn’t even if you tried. 

“Hi Y/N.” he whispers.

“Hi Eren.” you whisper back. 

And you both laugh so hard that it makes your chest hurt. 

“Listen, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” 

“You know. We’re practicing. And doing it one time doesn’t mean it’s perfect, so-so we should try again. You know, for method acting purposes and-and.” 

You smirk, reaching forward to pinch his cheek.

“You want to kiss me so bad.” 

“Shut up. We don’t have to, I just want to make-” 

“We can.” 

He smiles, leaning forward to press his lips against yours again, his breath tickling the tip of your nose and his lips pressing against yours again, this kiss better than the last. You’ve committed it to memory - how his lips fit perfectly against yours, where his hands feel the best. 

For acting purposes, of course. 

- 

You and Eren are ready bright and early to film the scene. Seconds before you start, Levi comes over and drops a key piece of information that leaves you and Eren pink in the face.

They’re cutting the kiss from the script.

--

--

next part linked here

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pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

[aaakikoo]

random low effort Attack On Titan headcanons

-> I’m back from the long ass break lol, I’ll try to most more regularly <3

-> nothing is 18+ so everyone can interact, some of these could be a lil icky n they could give ur favs an ick but some r rlly sweet too <3

-> this a guy ver ill do a girl ver soon!

-> girl ver

EREN J.

listens to rap but fails to rap as fast as the rapper so it turns into him mumbling.😭

has a collection of funk pops

doesn’t have a mid, or bad but TERRIBLE spice tolerance.

thinks that his loud motorcycle is hot

his breath smells like onion sometimes

surprisingly doesn’t sweat alot

his fav colour is sage green and black

tries to act manly infront of mikasa but ends up looking stupid

argues with armin but when he proves him wrong he says “that’s exactly what I said!” 💀

doenst use sunscreen

tries to make food for armin and mikasa but fail so the trio end up making food together instead

lends armin his clothes

ARMIN A.

drinks jet black coffee every morning

his breath always smells like mint

has a collection of polo shirts

get sad/offended when he sees those tiktoks of ppl saying that blue eyes are scary.

listens to true crime on the daily

is very very organized like WAYYYY too organized, on his desk his pens, papers, clips etc are all sorted out in different containers, his clothes are washed and ironed perfectly in his closet with each drawer, his bathrooms smells so expensive all the time.

wears those shorts with longer black shorts underneath

has little/to no hair on his body expect his face

has a pet parrot

is allergic to dogs

JEAN K.

this man has a collection of colognes but only used 3 of them.

also has a tie collection

unlike eren he only knows how to cook the basics, coffee, salads, pancakes, cereal, eggs and bacon, pasta & noodles.

he isn’t super organized but like to have control, I feel like he’d have an obsession with vacuuming especially the living room.

watched BEN 10 as a kid

Fav colour purple

smokes cigs, but only sometimes.

calls his car “his lady”

loves to paint/draw

he’d be one of those guys who wear shorts and a tank and no socks around the house (nun wrong w that)

hairy legs but no hair on his arms n chest??? 😭

asks to borrow ur Netflix

spam comments under his partners posts

loves frank ocean

CONNIE S.

surprisingly I feel like Connie would know how to bake and very responsible when it comes to that.

still has the hand writing of a 7 year old

has a collection of tote bags

has a silver piercing in his left ear

loves chunky belts and chunky silver rings

a huge fan of ariana grande

doesn’t like sea food

loves to watch reality tv and get involved in drama

a nice gym bro

doesn’t smoke but drinks on occasions like he really takes his chance

has fully loaded biceps

has 3 suits. Black, grey and navy and rotates between them.

has seen every show/movie on Netflix

LEVI A.

black coffee everyday as well

loves to collect exotic types of tea

has a skincare routine of face wash, moisturizer and sunscreen

uses a bonnet when he sleeps

doesn’t eat meat

listens to rain ASMR when he can’t sleep

always has a bottle of water with him everywhere

his showers r 30 mins long

only wears suit pants

has a wallet with a pic of Hange in it

his fav cake is cheesecake but only eats it if the biscuit ratio is bigger than the cream cheese

loves red tulips

reads the news paper and listens to the radio everyday for 15 mins

ERWIN S.

eats only eggs and bacon with orange juice for breakfast

has a huge collection of suit shirts that he wears everyday

carries a small comb around

has a pen in his chest pocket

when he sees a good looking man he always admires them out loud

has 2 colognes that he rlly likes and wears

really good at cooking

tries to say Gen z slangs

a huge MJ fan

loves Sherlock Holmes

a hairy man

loves dogs

only uses sunscreen on his face

has a little bit of a sweet tooth

uses Vaseline all the time, he has a tub at his place, a tub in his office and a stick with him all the time

REINER B.

lactose intolerant

loves to rewatch his childhood shows/movies

loves salty things, actually he eats quite literally anything

scared of animals

has a fear of heights (??)

actually really great with kids

always rushes to the other side of the car to open the door for his lady

sucks ass at cooking

he is really strong but doesn’t have very good stamina

loves to play video games

very good at literature, wants to be an author (modern AU)

BERTHOLDT H.

nut allergy

has long fingers

very shy and doesn’t really have an opinion on anything

[sleepingpillscosmos]

STUPID GIFTS AND A NEW MILESTONE — jean kirstein

pairing: jean kirstein x fem!reader.

warnings/content: modern AU. implied past sex activity if you squint. reader cries but it's because she's happy.

wc: 1.3k.

a/n: hi hi hi @stopisa, this is your gift from me, your cupid <3 I hope you'll enjoy this fic and I hope you passed a wonderful day! I saw Jean was one of your preferred ones and I've wanted to write for him for a long time so I took this opportunity to do it!

You finished packing for tonight, remembering to put your gifts beside the bag so that you wouldn’t forget them.

It was Valentine’s day, every couple probably decided to go out and eat at a fancy restaurant, but you and Jean opted to stay at home and relax. You both had a hell of a week, so it was the only thing that didn’t require too much effort while spending time together.

As you left your apartment, you sent a quick text to Jean, letting him know that you would be there in about twenty minutes or so.

After you arrived at his apartment you rang the doorbell and Jean opened the door almost immediately.

“Were you waiting for me at the door like a dog?” You said jokingly as you hugged him.

Even though you lived close, you often didn’t have the time to see each other. You both worked, had classes at university and your own lives, so even if you really wished to spend time together everyday, you couldn’t.

You also had different friends. You met Connie, Armin, Eren, Mikasa and Sasha at the very start of your relationship, but they were all childhood friends and you didn’t want to intrude every time they hung out, even if they told you multiple times that it didn’t bother them. Jean met your friends a couple months into your relationship, but it didn’t go as smoothly. Jean and Reiner already knew each other and they weren’t, and still are, on bad terms. Your boyfriend always kept it civil for your sake, but you can’t blame him when he doesn’t want to hang out with you all, which is rare anyway.

“Would I sound pathetic if I said yes?” He asked as he squeezed you harder, leaving a couple of kisses on the side of your head.

“Don’t worry, I already know you are.” He scoffed, breaking the hug while you chuckled. He grabbed your cheeks with both his hands as he closed the distance between you to rest his forehead against yours, you moved your hands to his waist.

“Hi,” Jean said looking in your eyes, “Happy Valentine’s day, sweetheart.”

You smiled muttering, “Happy Valentine’s day to you too, love.”

His smile widened before he kissed you gently. It didn’t matter how long you two have been together, his heart always skipped a beat when you called him that. He just felt so loved and appreciated when you used pet names, but that was with no doubt his favourite.

Once you were both in need of some air, you broke the kiss. You took off your shoes and went to Jean’s bedroom to leave your things and get changed in your pyjamas while he prepared your luxurious dinner, cup noodles.

When you got back in the living room, Jean was already waiting for you on the couch, noodles placed on the little table in front of him, blanket beside him and remote in hand already choosing the series you were slowly watching together.

“I hope you didn’t watch episodes without me.” you teased, sitting beside him and covering the both of you with the blanket before grabbing your noodles.

“It happened one time!” He defended himself.

“And since that day I know that I can’t trust you. What kind of boyfriend would do that?” You clutched your heart with a hurt expression. He looked at you smirking, “Connie doesn’t count.”

He sighed defeated, then he pushed play with the remote, to finally let your night start.

[...]

“Okay time for the gifts!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together. It was your favourite part of the day, not because you were materialistic, but because of your tradition together. It started randomly, but since the first Valentine’s day you spent together it’s stuck with you.. Your tradition consisted of two gifts, one is the real or serious one and the other is the stupidest thing you could think of.

One year you gifted him a pair of slippers. To be exact, horse slippers. Honestly, he loved them, but his friends even more, especially Eren.

“You start.” He said since he knew you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for too long. You nodded happily and handed him the first gift, the stupid one. He opened the bag and found a mug, which looked like it was plain, but when he turned it he read the phrase “I love you for your personality, but that dick is a great bonus.” written in black.

“No, you didn’t!” He gasped, covering his mouth with his free hands, he was nearly crying from laughing so hard. This was one of the best gifts hands down. “I need to send a photo to Connie and Eren right now.”

He quickly took a photo of the mug and sent it to the group chat with the boys, then he hugged and kissed you, thanking you a hundred times and saying this would become his everyday mug.

“Okay, here’s my stupid one for you,” he handed you the package and you didn’t waste a second to open it. It was a pair of socks, but you couldn’t really understand what was printed on them at first. Once you looked at them better, you realised.

“What the actual fuck is this.” You said laughing. There was a face printed on them. Jean’s face. “They’re horrible. I love them.”

You hugged him and finally gave him the real present, even if he told you that nothing could surpass the mug.

This year you went for something more cheesy. You saw he was looking for a chain necklace on the internet since his broke a couple of months ago, but he never bought one, he couldn’t set his mind on a specific one. So you researched for the perfect one, you spent weeks finding it, and then you had both his and your initials engraved on the inside of the necklace.

“I don’t know what to say, really” He stared at the necklace like it was the most beautiful and precious thing in the world, inspecting every centimetre of it. Then he saw the engraved initials and his brain malfunctioned for a good 10 seconds.

He thanked you again, hugging you so hard that you struggled to breathe for a moment, then he took your next present in his hands.

“There’s something I want to say before you open this,” he started, fidgeting with the box in his hands. “We talked about this thing multiple times, mostly joking, but I think it’s the right thing to do now. We’ve been together for a long time, and I love you so, so much. We’ve been through a lot, and even now we’re still struggling with some things. Like spending time together because we’re so busy. But I think you’re my person, honestly I kind of always thought that, and I hope you think the same. So, after thinking about this day and night for a very long time, and after a push by Mikasa and Sasha, this is my gift for you.”

He handed you the box and you opened it with teary eyes from the sweet words he just used.

You found two keys and a little keychain with a phrase from your song, “These are the keys for my apartment. I want to ask you to come and live here with me, so that we don’t have to worry about finding time for each other since we’ll always come home, our home.”

Now you were crying. You couldn’t find the right words to voice your love for him and your gratitude for the gift. You hugged him again, wetting his shirt with your happy tears and mumbling a soft thank you, and that yes, you thought that he was your person too.

No, you knew that he was your person.

network: @enchantedforest-network.

[captainleviswifee]

How would AoT characters react to tasting your (somewhat modern) ramen. A head canon

Tags: !isekaid fem reader, fluff, lighthearted, no romance just fluff, Canon universe ---------------------------------------------------------------

Sasha: * hands out empty bowl.*  SECONDS PLEASE!!

Connie: How did you finish all that in seconds??! * quickly hands out his empty bowl as well * Hey! save some for others!

Jean: * Smug * What a loser, you can’t even pick up noodles?? That’s pathetic, even for you Eren,” *salty for ranking below Eren he savors the ramen while flexing his chopstick skills* (Oh, this is actually delicious almost as good as my mom’s cooking!)

Eren: (What does he mean by even for me?!) * glares * Shut up horseface! I can use this just fine! * struggles *

Jean: HAHAHA! Baaaaka, * smug *

Armin: * slurps * Woah, the broth, and the seasonings, all complement each other so well! Paired with the noodles it really fills the stomach! 

Mikasa: * slurps ramen noodles *, * eyes widen * * cheeks flushed * Oishi…

Levi: * slurps ramen noodles * Not bad… * frowns at Sasha, Connie, Eren’s messily eating * (They all better clean all that shit later)

Moblit: Delicious! I don’t think I’d be able to get back to eating the rations anymore,

Hange: Right?! I feel like I could do all research and experiments for 10–No, 14 days straight!

Moblit: Please don’t… no more…

Erwin: *smiles* Truly exquisite, it’s a shame we won’t be able to implement this as part of the expeditions. (This tool “chopsticks” it doesn’t look very useful at first glance but when used this way it can pick up food rather nicely, and then there’s the method for cooking this “ramen”. How and where exactly did you learn this?)

You: *extremely feeling nervous at Erwin's expression studying you*

[underthetree845]

How to Say "I love you"

Chapter Five: Without Words 

Chapter Index 

Armin/Reader 

Cws: AFAB reader, Reader is Eren’s twin sister, modern high school au, planning a confession

About 5.9k words 

Summary: Reader comes up with an idea on how to communicate their feelings to Armin. 

“You almost WHAT?!” Historia all but screamed, a wide smile growing on her face. 

 Sasha started to choke on her noodles, to which Mikasa began patting her on the back while she coughed. 

“Weren’t you listening, Historia?” Ymir sighed, crossing her arms, “She said she wasn’t sure.” 

“Y-yeah! Well I mean I know something happened, but I don’t know if it was just me or…” you rambled, slowly hugging your knees closer to your chest. 

“Well you may not be sure, but I am! One-hundred percent!” Historia beamed, leaning in closer towards you as her eyes sparkled with excitement. 

You groaned and hid your face in your knees as your cheeks burned, not entirely sure why you even agreed to this in the first place. 

The entire day after your evening out with Armin, your mind would not stop replaying those few moments when you were able to feel his breath on your lips. You had been so close, closer than you ever were hugging or holding hands or even falling asleep on each other, despite the fact that you hadn’t even been touching. 

Mikasa didn’t usually speak up unless absolutely necessary, and this time, she seemed to have found it necessary to confront you about your “strange” behavior after getting lost in the park with the boy. 

To your mother, father, and Armin’s grandfather, for Hannah and Franz’s sake, you and Armin decided to just say that the two of you happened to run into each other by the park, decided to go out for ice cream to the place Sasha recommended, taken a walk through the park afterward, and ended up getting lost till late. 

With Mikasa, there was almost no point in lying. You didn’t even need to tell her about your feelings for Armin in the first place, she just seemed to know. So, when she asked you for the truth about what happened that night, you made double sure that Eren didn’t follow, locked your bedroom door, climbed up to the roof, and whispered it into her ear. 

At first, Mikasa genuinely didn’t believe that you and Armin had almost kissed. You were distressed because you thought she meant that she didn’t think Armin felt the same way, but Mikasa quickly clarified that she just didn’t think either of you would make a move anytime soon. 

“Neither of us really ‘made a move,’ Mikasa,” you fiddled with the hemline of your shirt, failing to suppress your heart racing at the memory, “we were just talking about how much we both value our friendship, and we both started leaning in…” 

You brought your hands up and buried your face in them as Mikasa sighed. 

“And then I called,” Mikasa stated, her words sounding more like an apology than anything else. 

“Don’t worry Mikasa, you couldn’t have known,” you replied with a compassionate smile, removing your hands from your face. “I don’t even know what Armin thinks of what happened, if he even thought or felt anything at all.” 

“Y/n, if it really went as you described, it, I know he was feeling just the same as you were,” Mikasa’s tone was sure, she looked you in the eyes as she spoke. 

“There’s no way,” you half-laughed, “I just support him and he appreciates it. I’m thankful enough that we get to be friends, I don’t want him to think I don’t value that or have an ulterior motive or anything.” 

“Even though you do?” Mikasa noted sharply. 

“Well,” you shrunk away, a slight huff in your voice, “it’s more of an ulterior… hope?”

“You should confide in the rest of the girls,” Mikasa suggested, getting up to move back inside, “I know they’ll come to the same conclusion I did.” 

And that’s how you ended up here after school. It was pure coincidence that Historia suggested organizing a hangout at one of your houses on Monday, but it was Mikasa who didn’t hesitate to offer up your house so that you wouldn’t be able to weasel your way out. 

Now you were sitting on the carpeted floor of yours and Mikasa’s bedroom with three of your friends huddled in a circle, laughing and chatting over card games and snacks. At least that’s how it had been going, until someone (*cough cough* Ymir) felt the need to spice things up with a game of truth or dare, which eventually just devolved into going around the circle and sharing secrets. 

When your turn came, you considered what Mikasa said earlier. What’s the worst that could happen? you thought. “Famous last words,” as your father always said. 

“Y/n there’s no way you can have a meaningful conversation like that with someone and get so close without feeling anything! I know Armin must be thinking the same thing,” Historia seemed to light up, clasping her hands together enthusiastically. 

“Don’t say it like that!” you retorted in a tone harsher than you meant, shrinking back to lean against the side of your bed. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him about it?” Sasha suggested with her cheeks full of food. 

“Because!” you said dramatically, shoving a pretzel into your mouth and clapping your palms together, “Number one, I don’t even know if he likes me that way, and I don’t want to lose him like that. Number two, you really expect me to look into his eyes and say something like that to someone as wonderful as him without dying?!” 

You didn’t have to worry about keeping your voices down. Your mother and father were still off at work, and as soon as Eren realized you and Mikasa were having your friends over, he grabbed his video game controller and left to spend his afternoon at Armin’s house. 

“Number one,” Mikasa mimicked you, trying to sooth your emotions, “Armin cares about you too much to let something like that get in the way of your friendship.” Everyone nodded in agreement. “And number two, I hate to say it Y/n, but that’s the only way he’s ever going to know how you feel. He’s normally smart about things, but he’s stupid about this. You’re going to have to tell him.” 

You sighed and gave a reluctant nod. Although you knew it deep down, you were too scared to face it until Mikasa said it to your face. She never spoke up unless absolutely necessary, and hadn’t managed to give you bad advice yet. 

“Finding the right time and place can be tricky…” Historia hummed, “for example, that hilltop where the two of you were stargazing would have been perfect.” 

“Well yeah, but then Mikasa’s calls started coming through and poof,” Sasha released her hands from fists, “no more atmosphere.” Mikasa looked down guiltily, and you came to her defense. 

“Sasha! It was bound to happen eventually, Armin and I had been lost for almost an hour,” you stated. True, it was unfortunate that you hadn’t been given a few more minutes, but you were thankful enough to have gotten home safely. 

“And you didn’t even kiss once,” Sasha moped, and your cheeks flared up again. 

“See, that’s a good example of right place wrong time,” Ymir pointed out, cocking her head to the side. Historia closed her eyes and nodded contemplatively. 

Silence followed as everyone continued to brainstorm, but your train of thought was cut short when your phone vibrated on your nightstand. You turned to your right to grab it and felt your heart jump when you saw who it was from. 

“Hey Y/n! History fact: Having been a Jew (although not a citizen of Israel), Albert Einstein was offered a position as the President of Israel in 1952. He turned it down because he knew he lacked the experience and people skills necessary, but isn’t that insane??,” the message read. 

History fact, you realized, right. It’s Tuesday. 

A smile stretched across your lips as you replied, and your giggle caught the attention of the rest of the girls sitting with you. 

“Who is that?” Historia questioned with a knowing grin. 

“It’s the blondie, obviously,” Ymir smirked, and Historia gave her a sideways glance. 

“You know it’s bad when you’re smiling at his texts,” Sasha mused, leaning in closer only for you to push her away with a flustered pout. 

“But look how easily you can talk to him!” Historia encouraged with a bright smile, “The two of you just ooze chemistry!” 

You found that you liked the idea of you and Armin having “chemistry,” and other people being able to see it. Being with him felt like the most natural thing in the world. Armin was the only person who could almost effortlessly sooth your emotions and anxieties, but at the same time, make you melt from the inside out and want to scream into your pillow. 

“But that’s only because we’re not face-to-face,” you sighed, clicking your phone off and placing it on the carpet next to you, “You’re right, talking to him is easy, but if I had to actually choke out a confession in front of him, I would just die.” 

“For the last time, Y/n,” Mikasa’s voice was like a cool mist of air, “you’re not going to die.” You turned your head to face her. “But you are going to have to tell him.” 

Everyone’s silence told you that they felt the same, but Mikasa’s words sparked an idea in the back of your mind. 

“What if… what if I didn’t have to tell him?” you asked thoughtfully. 

“Oh great, she’s backing out entirely,” Ymir leaned back and took a swig of her soda. 

“That’s not what I meant,” you explained, sitting up straight with a hand on either knee, “What if I just didn’t say it?” 

“You’re just going to kiss him?” Mikasa was bewildered. 

“No, no!” your cheeks flushed red at the very thought, “No no no no no! I meant more along the lines of writing him a letter and giving it to him somehow!” 

“Oh! That’s such a cliché idea!” Historia clapped her hands together, “I mean that in a good way!” 

“So you think a letter would be well-suited enough for the situation?” your eyes searched for confirmation. 

“Y/n,” Ymir started, “you could show up to his house in the middle of the night wearing a potato sack, tell him you love him, and he would still marry you.” She set her soda can down with a clink. “Not that I would recommend such a method, I’m just saying that I think a letter would work out fine.” 

“Ymir, that was completely unnecessary,” Historia lightly scolded, giving a concerned glance to your frozen form. “Although I do agree.” 

“But what’s wrong with potato sacks?” Sasha huffed, earning a chuckle from the rest of the room, effectively lightening the mood. 

As the laughter died down and someone suggested a movie, the weight of your decision finally hit you. How would you even begin writing a letter expressing everything you felt about Armin? Would he like it? Would he think it was too cringey or sappy? If he did accept, what would that mean for your relationship? What if he just accepted out of pity or obligation? Would he still want to be friends with you after reading it? 

As much as the potential answers to these questions terrified you, you were going to have to take a leap of faith to have them answered. After all, confessing isn’t about whether you “succeed” or not, it’s a test of bravery. 

-

You found it genuinely challenging to summarize all the reasons you had grown to love Armin throughout your life on a single sheet of paper. You would’ve used more, but you didn’t want to creep him out by handing him an entire essay that you put more effort into than most of your school assignments. 

You had yet to decide whether to leave the letter somewhere he would find it, hand it to him directly and run walk away, or hand it to him and wait there to watch his immediate reaction. Leaving it somewhere would increase the risk of someone else finding it by mistake, if you ran away after giving him the letter he would have to awkwardly reach out to you some other time to talk about it, plus he might just follow you, and you weren’t sure you could handle the embarrassment of standing there as he read the paper you had poured your heart out onto. That would be almost as bad as actually confessing. 

Instead of typing up a list and narrowing it down from there, you decided to highlight the things you noticed about Armin over the next couple days. 

The point wasn’t necessarily to swoon Armin by writing up a bunch of praise and expecting him to accept just because of that, but you wanted to let him know how much you appreciate him in at least one paragraph of the letter. That's how it goes, right?  

-

It wasn’t that you and Armin weren’t ever affectionate or compassionate towards each other, you have been friends for the past nine years. You often shared school lunches, volunteered to help each other out with homework before anyone else, noticed miniscule details about each other and complimented them, stuff like that. There were actually a few students and teachers at school who had to be clarified on the fact that the two of you weren’t a couple already. 

However, in the days following the night you two spent under the stars, the intimacy had increased tenfold. It was life you were Armin’s lifesource; every second you spent apart, he spent wishing he could see you again, and every minute you were together, he was practically clinging onto you, never more than two feet away. 

Now, instead of shyly looking away when you caught him staring, he would hold your gaze, a warm smile making its way onto his lips as redness creeped into his cheeks. 

The last three days since Saturday had been some of the best of his life. He felt like his heart hadn’t stopped racing since that night. 

The difference was noticeable. The two of you shared a lot more secret glances and bashful smiles when you thought no one was looking. It was difficult for others to get your attention when you were zoned out in a conversation or even just staring at each other. 

Neither you nor Armin were entirely sure what this new sense of comfort and budding affection would lead to, but you knew you wanted it to continue. It was probably a subconscious effort to recreate the atmosphere from the park. 

The two of you were lovesick, plain and simple. 

-

“Here Y/n,” Armin grinned sweetly, returning to your lunch table from the vending machine, “I got you a soda too.” You couldn’t help the blush that filled your cheeks at his thoughtful gesture. 

“Thank you, Armin,” you smiled in return, taking the can from his hand and almost jumping at the way your fingers brushed. You didn’t miss that he’d gotten you your favorite soda as you both popped your cans open and took a sip. 

Eren and Mikasa watched the two of you from across the desk table the four of you had formed. 

“No soda for me?” Eren questioned snarkily, to which Mikasa elbowed him. “OW! I mean- us?” Eren tried to correct himself and Mikasa internally facepalmed. 

“Sorry guys,” Armin bashfully apologized, “I really would have, but I only had enough for two, and I owed Y/n for a drink anyway.” His blue eyes locked with yours for a moment and you only looked away to sigh in blissful memory of the indirect kiss you two shared. 

You’re thoughtful. 

-

“I-I don’t have any more! Really!” the boy insisted shakily. The bully leaned even closer, slamming his hand on the boy’s desk, clattering his materials around and causing a few pencils to roll onto the floor. 

“You expect me to buy that bullshit?” the bully scoffed, his hot breath puffing on the boy’s face. “If you can’t pay me right now, I’ll expect double tomorrow, or else it’s over for you.” 

“W-wha-” the boy’s eyes shone with fear. 

“Excuse me, Emil?” Armin tapped the bully on the shoulder, only just managing to hold back his shudder when the older boy turned to face him in a fury. 

“Hell you want, Arlert?” Emil spat, his fist releasing the smaller boy’s shirt as his attention was diverted. 

“I saw you sneak in to avoid the Dean this morning so you could avoid uniform checks,” Armin stated, his smooth tone in black-and-white contrast to Emil’s uncontrolled flurry of rage. 

“Was that supposed to be a threat, runt?” he huffed, taking a looming step towards Armin, who was accustomed to his behavior enough to not cower away. 

Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to intervene and place yourself between Armin and the bully. You wanted to let your protective instincts take over, but much to your current dismay, you’d promised Armin otherwise. 

It wasn’t even five minutes ago when you and Armin stepped through the doorway of your classroom to lay your eyes on Emil trying to squeeze money out of yet another victim. 

You were inclined to flip Emil onto his back, twist his arm, or even go get Eren and Mikasa to help deal with the situation. Armin had to physically latch onto your arm and drag you into the hallway to keep you from immediately intervening. He needed to explain that it would be too risky to pull a move like that for two major reasons. If you strode up to the situation on the offensive, regardless of whether it was in defense of the smaller boy or not, Emil hadn’t hit first, so you would be the one punished for picking a fight, which was the last thing Armin wanted. In addition, it was happening inside of a classroom, not out on the courtyard, so the chance that you would get caught beating Emil down was far too high for Armin’s liking. 

As much as you wanted to take a more direct approach, you knew you could trust Armin when he said he had a plan. 

The idea was that he would go up and “deal” with the situation, whatever that meant, while you secretly recorded from the sidelines. 

“But only if you promise I’m allowed to jump in if he tries to hurt you or anyone else,” you insisted. 

“Alright Y/n,” Armin sighed compliantly, a butterfly feeling filling his chest at how protective you were being. Standing up for others was in your nature; he knew it from the day you first reached out your hand, and he was reminded of it each and every time you faced a situation like this. You didn’t get worked up over many things, but one thing Armin could always be sure about was that you would never let anyone get left behind. 

“It’s a threat if you perceive it to be,” Armin shrugged, giving a reassuring glance to the withering boy behind Emil before continuing. “I’m only here to tell you that I don’t think you should be here right now. Your uniform shirt is open, you’re wearing a bright t-shirt under it, you don’t have your tie,” Armin added a pause for emphasis, “and the Dean is going down the hallway right now doing a once-over of all the classrooms.” 

Emil’s breath caught and he shifted his gaze to peer out the window of your classroom warily. 

“The Dean is in the classroom two doors down right now,” Armin stated, upping the pressure of the situation. 

“Tch, why should I believe anything you say, Arlert?” the bully scoffed, pointing an accusatory finger and jabbing it into Armin’s chest. 

“You don’t have to, I won’t be the one getting in trouble if you get caught,” Armin stated, glancing towards the door before meeting Emil’s eyes. 

“You cocky little- well why would you even tell me this, huh?” the taller boy spat, trying to keep his footing in the situation, “It’s not like we’re friends.” 

“You said you’d pick on me less if I helped you out once in a while, right?” Armin almost failed to hold back his grin. He’d won, you both knew it. 

You had to try your hardest to keep from snickering; you had never seen Emil look quite so trapped. 

“It just won’t look too good if you’re caught out of uniform threatening another student for his pocket money,” Armin piled on, “This isn’t even your classroom.” 

At that, Emil’s thread of will snapped, and he gave one last spiteful glare to the small boy behind him before gritting his teeth and peeking his head out into the hallway, slipping out while muttering curses under his breath. 

The tension in the classroom eased and the surrounding students, including you, let out a breath of relief and turned back to whatever they had been previously working on. 

You stopped recording and immediately stood up to make your way over to Armin. 

“He didn’t hurt you, right?” you asked tenderly, scanning his face for any signs of injury, “You’re okay, right? Say you’re okay.” Even though you had been recording and sneaking glances from time to time, you couldn’t help but worry that Emil had grabbed Armin by the collar or leaned in a little too close when you weren’t looking. Asking these questions after a run-in with a member of the trio was almost customary. 

“I’m okay, Y/n,” Armin reassured you, a gentle smile forming on his lips, “thank you for recording. That’ll be useful if we ever need it.” You nodded and tucked your phone away, turning to check up on the boy Emil had been threatening. 

He still sat in the same position, arms folded over his chest defensively, hunched into himself, only his expression of terror had been replaced with one of admiration, and his gaze was locked on Armin. 

“Hey, did he hurt you anywhere?” Armin asked gently, turning his gaze to focus on the boy in front of him, “That wasn’t the first time, right?” 

“Y-you- thank you so much!” the boy sputtered, standing up and bowing deeply, “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” Yours and Armin’s eyes widened and you shared a glance before responding. 

“Hey, we just wanted to make sure you were okay,” you place a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “and you don’t have to bow. I’m Y/n, and this is Armin. What’s your name?” 

“It’s, it’s Hayate,” the boy sucked in a breath, finally standing up straight, “nice to meet you.” You nodded kindly while Armin perked up. 

“Hey, 'Hayate,' like the character from that street fighter game?” Armin grinned. Fanboy mode, taking over, you thought with a loving roll of your eyes. 

“You know it?!” Hayate’s voice went up an octave and his eyes seemed to glimmer in excitement. 

“Well, my best friend likes it, so I like to play it with him sometimes,” Armin replied, scratching the back of his neck. You smiled in confirmation. It’s true… you thought, sometimes I think mom wishes Eren were less glued to the screen while playing.  

“W-wow! I didn’t think anyone cool would know the game,” Hayate stared in amazement and Armin did a double take. 

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider myself to be ‘cool,’” Armin chuckled dismissively. 

“You have to be kidding,” Hayate started, “you’re always so bright when you answer questions in class, your friends seem really cool too (you smiled at that part) and the way you talk back to Theo, Elliot, and Emil is insane!” 

“He has a point, Armin,” you nudged the blonde with your arm, shooting him a genuine glance, “you’re pretty cool on some levels.” 

Armin felt his cheeks begin to flush from all the praise, and he instinctively took a half step back, waving his hands in front of his body. 

“That’s not really true…” he trailed off and you internally sighed. When would he finally understand? “Anyone would have done what I did given the situation.” 

Anyone? Give me a break, you thought, Look around the room, look at all these people who just sat and watched it happen. You have all the more reason to be afraid of a member of the trio than they do, yet… 

Armin had managed to change the topic of the conversation back to videogames by this point. 

…you’re the one who stepped up. Overcoming your fear makes the act even braver, and you do it because you don’t want others to suffer the same way you have pretty much your entire life.

Your thoughts zeroed in as you watched Armin continue to chat with Hayate. 

You are so much braver than you realize. 

-

“Aaand, that should do it, Louis,” Armin said with a satisfactory grin and one last click on the mouse before standing up from the dark wooden chair and making room for the old man to take a look. 

“Hm, it seems to be working fine now!” Louis adjusted his eyeglasses as he peered at his computer screen. 

“It was just a small syntax error on the navigation level,” Armin nodded, “I have to say, your niece is quite thorough with creating websites. Is she a web developer, by any chance?” 

“Studying to be, I believe,” Louis’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. 

“The bookstore’s website is functioning normally on my phone now too,” you piped up, “nice job, Armin.” You gave the boy a sweet smile which he bashfully returned. 

“Yes, Armin, thank you very much. I don’t mean to trouble you, but I do appreciate how you always help with my internet issues,” Louis adds, “You’re quite good at it too. Are you perhaps considering a career in web development like my niece?” 

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” Armin confirmed with a polite smile, “I don’t really think I want a career in it, but I guess I am decently well-versed in the field from helping my grandfather out and well… just accumulating information overtime.” 

He really does have a wide variety of interests. 

“Still, I’d hate to take your work for granted. Would you accept a cash reward?” Louis offered, and you turned to look at the boy standing beside you. 

Armin’s eyebrows shot up and his expression formed into one of gratitude, but still… 

“No, I couldn’t possibly,” he declined. “I’m happy to help you, Louis, and I love this bookstore. The task is rewarding enough on its own.” 

You sighed gingerly and couldn’t help but smile a little. Armin certainly did deserve a reward for all the help he always offered Louis, from computer troubles to reorganizing the shelves after a busy week. He always did it with a smile on his face. 

“Are you sure there’s no way I could convince you?” Louis sighed, taking a seat down in his chair. 

“I’m sure, Louis,” Armin clasped his hands behind his back neatly. 

“You could use it to buy a gift or go out somewhere with someone,” the old man suggested with an innocent grin. 

Armin’s heart stuttered at the thought but his main concern was about the fact that you were standing right next to him, and Louis’s suggestion was everything but subtle. 

You didn’t have much time to register the bookstore owner’s suggestion before Armin spoke up. 

“I have enough to do that on my own,” he dismissed the idea smoothly, “thank you again for the offer.” Armin wore the guise of a calm smile on his lips, despite his brief internal panic. 

“Alright, lad,” Louis folded his hands in his lap, “Thank you for the help today, enjoy the rest of your time in the bookstore this afternoon.” 

As you and Armin began to roam the classics section, you found yourself staring at his profile with a soft smile as his eyes scanned over the titles and he traced them gently with his fingers. 

You’re smart, but you don’t take it for granted. 

-

Your phone buzzed with the name of the only person who’s messages you’d set to allow past Do Not Disturb time. 

“Hello Y/n,” you smiled as you read his message, “Sorry to message you this late, I just couldn’t wait till tomorrow.” You kept scrolling and found that there was a picture attached to the bottom of the message. 

“Apollo fell asleep on the jacket you left over here last week!” and sure enough, the picture showed the little gray kitten curled up in the fabric of the jacket on a chair, and Armin in the corner, holding the phone out to take a selfie. 

Your heart warmed and you took a screenshot to save the picture to your camera roll. One, because you didn’t have any pictures of Apollo yet, and two, Armin grinning so adorably in his nightclothes was too precious to pass up. 

“He misses you,” Armin messaged, and you thought for a moment before typing up a reply. 

“I miss him too, give him a hug for me <3,” the boy held his phone to his chest at that last message, smiling from ear-to-ear as he curled up on his bed. 

You sighed and melted into your desk with a stupid grin and Mikasa turned over to face you. 

“Are you going to bed soon?” she asked, eyeing your phone as you put it down. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll be done soon,” you nodded, adjusting your lamp light and focusing back on the paper in front of you. 

I love your smile. You always know how to make my day better. 

Mikasa fell asleep to the sound of your pencil scratching against your paper that night. 

-

“Are you sure you want me to proofread something like this?” Mikasa pushed the folded piece of paper you were shoving at her away from her body, and you nervously glanced to the side before looking back at her. 

“Please, Mikasa! We don’t have much time until Armin comes back from the bathroom,” you hissed in a whisper. “I’d rather not have him start wondering what this is. I left blank the spots where I’m going to add his name just in case so it won’t be worst-case scenario, but still.” 

“But why give it to me now, in school?” your best friend questioned, crossing her arms and refusing to budge. 

“I would have given it to you this morning, if you didn’t wake up so freakishly early. I swear, you’re already waiting by the door by the time Eren and I come down for breakfast,” you retort with a sigh, “And my mom was there, she’s more likely to get pushy with what it’s about than Armin.” 

“Y/n, this just doesn’t seem like the kind of thing I’d be good at,” Mikasa resisted. 

“But you’re the only person I trust enough to show this to who I won’t have to worry about trying to tease me or actually suggesting I rewrite the whole thing,” you pouted, “please, Mikasa?” In truth, you were looking for reassurance more than anything. The whole idea of what you had written made your hands clammy, you wanted to run it by at least one person first. 

“What about waiting till we get home?” Mikasa suggested and you let out a sigh. 

“Because! Armin is coming over and we’re all going to make adoption posters for Apollo, remember?” you insisted. “I already have the letter right now and the only time you’ll be able to read it is when Armin and I are picking up Apollo from his house because I know you won’t want to do it when it’s late. Please, Mikasa.” There was a beat of silence between you two before Mikasa finally cracked. 

“...Okay, I’ll take it,” she gave a defeated sigh and you grinned widely before tucking the letter under a notebook on her desk. 

“Ah, thank you! I couldn’t ask for a better best friend,” you beamed, throwing your arm around Mikasa, who reciprocated your half-hug with an understanding curve of her lips. 

-

“Y/n, you’ve been tired and listless all day, are you sure you’re okay?” Armin asked as you slung your backpack over your shoulder and he gathered up his materials. 

“I promise Armin, I’m fine. I just stayed up a little late last night watching a show,” you smiled gratefully, but Armin couldn’t ease his worry. Did you wake up to read his message, then struggle to fall back asleep? Were you restless because of anxiety? If you really were tired just because of a show, how often did you stay up so late? Would it affect your day-to-day operation? He had caught you dozing off a few times in class, and always made sure to divert the teacher’s attention so they wouldn’t notice or even nudge you gently if need be. 

Armin mentally cursed when he realized his thoughts had led him to forget about packing his materials. He now awkwardly scrambled to organize his papers as you stood there and waited with a patient smile. I’m holding her up, and she didn’t say a word… Armin thought. 

“Y/n, I’ll meet you by the shoe lockers so we can go get Apollo in a minute, you can get going,” he told you with a gentle smile. 

“Promise you’ll be right there?” you pressed playfully. A sweet chuckle fell from his lips as he nodded. With that, you turned on your heel and headed towards the classroom door, disappearing with a wave. 

After a few minutes, Armin rushed out the door, paying no mind to Eren and Mikasa’s murmurs behind him. 

“Eren, did you drop off your packet at the science lab yet?” Mikasa questioned, and Eren shot up in his seat. 

“Shit, no, I didn’t,” his eyes widened, “I don’t think I have the assignment rubric though.” 

“There’s a copy in my binder,” Mikasa gestured with a nod, and Eren sputtered out thank yous before moving to shuffle through her papers. She definitely knew he’d forget it. 

By the time Mikasa finished getting what she needed from her locker, Eren was already standing behind her with both their backpacks, a marked-up rubric, and the homework packet he had been given an extension on two days ago. 

“Come with me to drop it off?” Eren asked, and Mikasa couldn't refuse. 

It’s not that your brother was stupid or anything, in fact quite the contrary; he had always been a decent student. Eren wasn’t at the bottom of the class by any means, and didn’t have any real trouble when exam season rolled around, he was just very good at landing himself extra work and allowing his tenacity to distract him from remembering due dates. Your brother mostly relied on Armin for that sort of thing, but the blonde had been wrapped up for the past few days. 

No, you didn’t consider your brother stupid on any level, but if you knew what happened next, you probably would have socked him in the face for being so careless. 

If only he’d noticed the paper that fluttered to the ground as he packed up Mikasa’s things. Why did it have to be that specific paper? 

If only he and Mikasa hadn’t left in such a haste to drop off the packet he was late to turn in. Why did the paper have to be left on the ground? 

If only someone else hadn’t seen it and decided to pick it up. Why did it have to be Jean’s eye that it caught? 

Chapter Six: Things Better Left Unsaid

[harmlesspotato20]

BLLK | Ego Jinpachi - the man you made.

❝┋ ego jinpachi x levi! reader

Anri was so surprised , shocked , aghast , amazed , astonished stunned, horrified , you say it when she found out the vector looks slender man has a wife. After first she thought he Ego was fooling her for April fools but surprise , surprise! it's not even April.

Anri was like : Him? This guy? This fucking emo had a wife? that too soo beautiful. Jinpachi Ego was watching the soccer clips when Ari came in to see him room all dark and few cups of noodles lying around.

She sighed knowing how this guy was and was concerned for his health. That's when she saw Ego eating food , a homemade food - not junk with rainbow and stars around him , happily. Well not that his expression read but his aura tells otherwise. 

So naturally she assumed Ego bought it from a good restaurant due to it's good smell that even made her hungry. "When did you go out and buy it?" she asked , hands on her hip. She wasn't angry. She was at least relaxed that he ate other than cup noodles.

"My wifey gave it." Ego let him tongue slip. Well not that he cared. He was busy enjoying his dear food. That's when the red haired girl heard the door swing open as she looked back to see a short yet beautiful woman.

"Oh.. good morning darling." Ego calmly greeted despite the mess in his room. 

Almost at the height of 5'2 or '3 , with your resting bitch face , you made your way towards your husband and gave him your tea. You made him tea everyday. and Ego never denied it. He loved it. When you ask him how's it he would reply like, "acceptable." making you mad.

"Don't 'good morning' me Jin, I swear to god , four eyes , if you don't help me clean after this , I'm throwing football on your face." your cold voice said as you placed two tea on his desk and swiped out under the table with your finger.

"Tsk , look at the dust!" you showed him your finger. "Oh.." He looked you straight in the eyes under his glasses and turned around like nothing happened. "Agh.." you started tying your hair to clean the room when Ego interrupted you.

"Don't stress yourself darling , Anri-chan will clean it." Ego nonchalantly said it in a calm and relaxed manner making Anri turn angry as irk mark appeared on her forehead. Did he fucking think that she is his maid?! how dare this man!?

"I'll be leaving now , excuse me..." Anri said a sadistic smile at Ego and left the room giving the couple privacy. "Tch , she isn't your babysitter to clean your shit up. be a man and get off!!"! you pulled Ego's hands after he finished eating.

He groaned and just pulled you into his lap , making you sit on him. "Jin.." you muttered death glaring at him. You looked at his face and saw how he changed over time. You you both met at sports college , this man had no idea of romance. Same goes to you.

When he classmates asked him if he had a crush on someone , he would be like what's crush? new instant noodle brand? But everything changed when you had to clean up the sports room. 2 members of any team would be assigned randomly to do the fair task.

And that fine day it was Jinpachi Ego and Y/N Ackerman. You both didn't even know each other but you would scold him for lazing around and not cleaning it properly. In a weird way , it caught his attention. He learnt that you were from combat sport team.

Just like a fucking weirdo , he would never talk to you directly or approach you but just stare at you. Just sit and stareeeee. Jinpachi was not that dumb head , he knew half of the male population in his college like you for your physical appearance.

And he knew how you would reject them like a cruel princess what everyone termed it to be. One lucky day , he saw you watching his football team practice. It was like girls verses boys. Your eyes were fixed on a female who played so good.

She was Mikasa Ackerman. It wouldn't take a genius to find out that she was related to you looking at both your last names. Junpachi paused for a moment. Why was he thinking about you do deeply?

His teammates said that he liked you. Like? what's that? Look Jinpachi hardly had any friends due to his personality clashing against those teen souls. But he had few good people around him though.

At the same evening , he saw you teaching your cousin — Mikasa to play football. The new good tricks you taught to you , as you demonstrated first and sending the spherical black and white ball to goal.

And oh boy , man fell in love , —deep , fell for you hook, line and sinker. This was not one-sided attraction no. When watching the match your eyes would glance at the black haired male named Ego. That day accidently you heard him give a big ass speech about strikers to his coach.

And that day you discovered , his love for football. This aroused your curiosity. Ego being fucking weirdo did nothing but stared at you in lunch when he heart thumped against his chest. You were fed up and walked near his table where he sat alone.

"Oi brat." you called him making him look at you and pause. You showed him 2 packet of cup noodles in your hand. "Want to eat together?" you asked. And that day my friends ,  Ego fell again. He had zero facial expression but his ears were red.

You both start spending your lunches and cleaning together. He slowly started helping you in cleaning too. You looked at his eyes , dark black and void. You complimented his eyes looking like a mysterious cosmic. And he fell again , thrice.

The first time he saw you smile was when you saw convenient cleaning goods. He notices how you always seems like you don't care with Hanji but you do. You were far from cold and uncaring person.

You would glare at a fanboy or girl or tsk you way away if something was unsanitary. Would be so shut off and cold with everyone except your one friend Hanji. People call you selfish and rude. A bit tsundere but a total softie inside.

And This skinny yet tall, pale man names ego , was an ambitious and overly confident man. Beneath that ambition however, is something even more sinister as he puts the emphasis in "ego" as he is shown to be an extremely egotistical, cruel, and self-serving man.

He never wastes an opportunity to tell his mates the cold truth about themselves and their reality, either seeping them into further despair or inspiring them with his cold hearted truth. A mean boy. This is the man you met.

Just imagine your college mates lowkey scared of you both and now you are dating. This place about to blow. Two prideful people dating in a room? Nah the tension is making them tremble. Too much to handle.

It was you who confessed first , and was like "Oi you brat , let's go on a date." and yeah you didn't ask but said. Ego agreed and you both would spend your time in ramen shop or library where he just looked at you reading history books.

Neither you or Ego were good with PDA so it was much better in private. You made the first move obviously. And started off with you making him tea and asking him if he ate anything and holding hands when you just real books.

You would give a quick peck on his cheek and run away. You both dated for almost 9 years and Ego grew more fine with your relationship. He was definitely not that good with his words and actions to show how he loved you but it improved overtime.

He started off with calling you darling. He never said "I love you" in front of you but did when you fall asleep , he would kiss your forehead and be with you. He knows how light sleeper you are and helps you with it with just caressing his thumb over your knuckles to calm you down.

Ego somehow managed to get his shit together and propose to you. You were so polite and quite. And just said "only if you help me clean and drink tea with me everyday" Ego took it as a yes. Ego works almost all the time and barely gets a chance to spend with you.

"Did you get sleep darling?" Ego asked looking into game clips as your head rested on his shoulder. "Yes." you answered , you did sleep for two hours. Better than nothing. Ego looked at your face as saw you almost tired from all the work you do.

"I see." he nodded placing his one hand on top of your head and other holding your waist. With or without conversation, you're still the only one Ego wants. He kissed the crown of your head , holding your head softly like a fragile glass.

He looked down again to see you almost asleep. You eye lids edging to close and when it did he heard your soft little snored and your body going unconscious in his hold. He knew how you insist him to take rest.

He switched off his systems and placed his head on top of yours. Ego rubbed your shoulder in comfort and whispered watching you sleep. "Sleep well my darling..."  And this is the man you made. 

the end.  please don’t mind the grammar mistakes. original post : my Wattpad account. 

[karizard-ao3]

I just saw a picture of Jane and Tarzan from Disney's Tarzan and all I could think was how perfectly long hair Eren and short hair Mikasa fit as the two of them and now I need an AU of Tarzan!Eren & Jane!Mikasa so bad now!!! Maybe it's not ur cup of tea but ur the only EM writer I'm moots with so I thought I'd shoot my shot and idk maybe if you're not into it you'll have moots who write EM who might pick it up anyways hope ur doing well luv u bye

Okay, I watched Tarzan a while back and was thiking the same thing! You could basically drop Eremika right into Tarzan and Jane's spots, imo, and barely anything would change except Tarzeren would probably kill a few people at the end and get Janekasa to help.

As far as a fic version of it, I'm not sure if there's a term for when you rewrite a story that already exists but put characters from another piece of media in it (? Is there a term? Surely there must be?), but it's not really my jam to write, personally. I don't even like writing canonverse that much because I can't deal with that much pre-existing structure. I'm sorry. My brain's just a pile of noodles and I can't do anything with it.

But! It would be very fun if someone else decided to do something with the idea because it really does suit Eremika, so here's hoping someone sees this and gets the itch to make some Tarzan!Eren and Jane!Mikasa stories or art!

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Happy early wet beast(s) Wednesday

Sad stinky beasts go to the Wet Place for a Scrumble

[corner-stories]

weird night

Mikasa Ackerman. Jean Kirschtein. Rejections. Drunk Stumbling. Cup Noodles. Gentle Kissing. Grad School AU. 5601 words. (ao3.)

Mikasa Ackerman often thrusts herself into challenges — unbridled by the fear of failure, fuelled only by her determination to make it to the other side. 

There are days that she dreads in the week leading up, days that she knows will be filled with mountains to climb and battles to be fought. Yet when she wakes in the morning the fear is gone. What is in its place is not bravery per se, but a willingness to take the first step and solve the first problem, then take the next step and so on. Because she needs to fight if she wants to win. 

But then there are days where her resolve utterly snaps. 

She’s in a cafe when she gets the news, an establishment just off-campus that almost exclusively caters to sleepless students like herself, huddled into her own corner with her laptop. Fuelled by an overpriced muffin and oat milk latte, the last hour had been occupied by her usual TA duties — it seems that everyday there will be a lesson plan to go over, a message that needs replying, or a set of data to organize. 

But it’s an email from her advisor that turns her whole day upside down. Professor Dietrich had the courtesy to tack the word ‘URGENT’ at the end of the subject line, but his kindness only goes so far when delivering the soul-crushing news. In hindsight, the notion was well-intentioned, even if it did lead to her panicking before she even opened the message. 

Reading the email in question makes her remember a similar moment months ago, when the research proposal she had spent weeks curating had gotten rejected. She always thought it would hurt less the second time, but as she sits in a crowded cafe, surrounded by other over-caffeinated McGill students, Mikasa comes to the startling realization that it hurts even more. 

She reads the email three more times, giving herself a moment to adjust to her new reality. Professor Dietrich gives a brief rundown as to why her would-be thesis had been denied. Unlike the last time, it has nothing to do with her recorded data and findings not being up to par, but instead pertains to the other achievements made by other people in her department. To the surprise of no one the School of Agricultural and Environmental Sciences is full of brilliant minds, and thus the way that Mikasa wishes to study all the beautiful, plant-killing diseases in existence had been deemed unoriginal at best and blatantly derivative at worst. 

Professor Dietrich promises that they’ll talk about it the following Monday, where they’ll meet in his office and he’ll tell her about all the things she had done wrong. At least has the decency to relay all her academic failures in-person. It leaves Mikasa sitting in her own corner of a crowded cafe, still staring at her laptop in disbelief as she stews in the fact that she’s been dragged back to square one.

And for once in the rollercoaster that is her adventures in grad school, she doesn’t know how to take the next step. 

…

…

…

Her commute from campus to the Plateau isn’t particularly far, but a numbness plagues her with every step. It all feels like a haze, even when she exits the metro and drifts through the sea of people leaving the station. On most days she’ll notice the cold, whether it be the air nipping at her cheeks or the way the slightest bit of snow crunches underneath her boots. But as she traverses the streets of Montreal she feels nothing. 

She can’t even feel relieved when she arrives at her apartment. On this particular Friday she’s lucky to have the place to herself, as Sasha had planned a trip with her significant other and would be gone the whole weekend. The concept of being alone for a while had excited her all week, as she could exist in her space as she pleased, free from the restraints of her roommate and her roommate’s numerous weird guy friends. 

But when Mikasa enters her empty apartment she is filled with anything but joy. There’s an emptiness inside of her, something that had been following her ever since she left the cafe. She wonders if she looks as pitiful as she feels when she removes her boots and coat, organizing them all in a nearby closet in an attempt to create the slightest pretense of control.

She goes to her room, removing her day clothes in favour of something more comfortable. Under normal circumstances Mikasa would head to the kitchen, either looking to brew some tea or snack on Sasha’s various leftovers. But as she pulls on her dumpy old cardigan she can’t even find the energy to do that. 

The numbness continues as she flops onto her bed. She takes a breath before checking her phone for the first time in the last hour, having avoided it to lessen the chances of adding to her stress. It’s fortunate that all she sees is a message from Sasha, one that includes a selfie of her and Niccolo on the Via Rail aptly captioned with ‘Kingston bound! See ya sunday night!’ 

As Mikasa can’t find it in herself to smile, all it manages to get from her is a hum, because at least someone is managing to have a good time tonight. 

Perhaps she would smile more if her notifications pertained to her research proposal, but Mikasa is enough of a realist to know that “Hi, we’re so sorry! We made a mistake and your thesis topic is good to go!” won’t be coming to her inbox any time soon.

With that in mind, Mikasa puts her phone down and pulls her blankets over herself, ugly cardigan and all. On any other day she would be up and about and doing something, but tonight all she can do is settle into the warmth and drift off into a dreamless sleep. 

…

…

…

Mikasa isn’t sure how much time passes before she hears a heavy fist pounding on her front door. She doesn’t jolt up necessarily, instead her eyes suddenly open to a dark bedroom and it’s utterly jarring — one moment she’s in the midst of a dull slumber and the next she’s pulled back into reality. 

The throes of sleep are gone the second she sits up, feeling much more awake than she expected to be. A quick glance to her window tells her that it’s the middle of the night, then an even quicker glance to her phone tells her that it’s one in the morning. It seems that the stress of the afternoon had a power unseen, something that did the impossible and forced her to get more than six hours of sleep. 

The sound of harsh door-knocking repeats and Mikasa is immediately on her feet. She hasn’t the faintest idea who it could be, but the frequency of each knock tells her that they aren’t going home soon. She takes only a step out of her bedroom before a voice accompanies the noise. 

“Sasha! Hey!” comes a muffled yell, the voice belonging to a man. It sounds less aggressive and more desperate. He knocks on the door again. “Ah, criss d’esti de tabarnak… Come on! I’m gonna piss on your doorstep, câlice!” 

It’s certainly not the first time one of Sasha’s weird guy friends had stumbled to the door in the midst of the night, swearing in ways that only the Quebecois can. But it’s certainly the first time it had happened when Sasha wasn’t even home. 

Mikasa doesn’t even bother looking through the peephole before she opens the door. 

Standing on the other side is Jean Kirschtein, also known as the taller, more gangly member of Sasha’s guy friend duo, the one with ashy hair and long face. He looks to have been shivering in the apartment courtyard, especially considering the time of night. Tiny bits of snow have collected onto his coat and beard, his cheeks are slightly red, and the look on his face immediately shifts from frustration to surprise. 

Very obviously confused, Jean looks Mikasa up and down. “You’re not Sasha… or maybe I’m a lot drunker than I thought…”

“Sasha’s not here.” 

He raises an eyebrow, appearing even more shocked in the span of a second. “Huh?! Are you serious?!” 

“She’s in Kingston,” Mikasa explains bluntly. 

Jean tilts his head to the side. “Kingston, Ontario?” 

She shakes her head. “No — Kingston, Jamaica.” She can’t stop herself from sounding utterly sarcastic when she speaks.

Jean takes a moment to blink and take in the information being thrown at him. Unsurprisingly, it appears to have caught him off guard. “Voyons donc, no wonder she didn’t text me back…”

Mikasa sucks in a sharp breath — she really doesn’t have the energy to entertain this for any longer. Instead she asks — “What was this about pissing on the doorstep?” 

It takes a second, but suddenly Jean remembers why he began knocking on her door at this ungodly hour. “Right, uh… would it be okay if I…?”

Mikasa nods before stepping aside and letting him in. She may be bitter and depressed over the current state of her career, but she’s not cold-hearted enough to leave him shivering his tits off in the courtyard. 

After she closes and locks the front door, she watches him remove his wet boots before shuffling towards the bathroom. With Jean being a common occurrence in the apartment, the sight of him awkwardly stumbling through the narrow hallways is strangely familiar. He spends a second rummaging through his inner coat pocket before placing an item on the kitchen island. Mikasa sees that it’s a small, half-finished bottle of cheap whiskey, the kind best enjoyed by edgy teens at a bus stop and wrapped in a brown paper bag. Suffice to say, she gets a very good idea on what Jean had been up to before he arrived. 

Unlike her, it seems that some overworked McGill students are capable of attaining a life outside their studies. Even though Mikasa is not a partier at heart she can’t deny the slightest bit of jealousy that arises. She then tries her damndest to do anything but dwell on the feeling — she doesn’t need another reason to feel that something’s wrong with her life. 

Jean slips into the bathroom and closes the door. Once he’s out of sight she goes to the bottle on the island. Before she can tell herself it’s a bad idea she takes a swig for herself, a movement so quick that it barely lasts a second. He probably won’t even notice that she did it. 

“So… what’s Sasha doing in Kingston?” Jean’s muffled voice asks. 

Mikasa can feel the liquor burning through her chest as she puts the bottle down. “She’s meeting Niccolo’s family,” she explains, walking to the kitchen cupboard. “Did she really not tell you?” 

“No! She didn’t!” 

The sound of the toilet flushing follows, as well as the bathroom sink running. Mikasa doesn’t pay much attention to it as she pours herself a glass of water, chugging it quickly as her stomach begins to rumble. As she’s certainly not in the mood to cook tonight, she resigns herself to subsisting on whatever she can find in the cupboard. It only takes a few seconds of rummaging around for her to decide that some old cup noodles shall suffice. 

Jean exits the bathroom just as she turns on the kettle. Mikasa looks over just in time to see him take a single step, then stop in place. There’s another beat of silence as he looks to be remembering exactly where he is, recalibrating his brain as he gets used to his new surroundings. 

“Sorry, I’m still a little… uh…” 

Mikasa shakes her head. “It’s fine.” 

“Weird night, y’know?” Jean starts. He begins gesturing with his hand as he continues to speak. “Connie and I, we went to this place around Mile End. Thought we’d just have a few beers, then this lady walks by and she’s gorgeous so Connie’s in love, then of course the bastard decides to ditch me, so I stop by that liquor store down the block, then I’m halfway through the park before I gotta piss like a madman and…” 

Suddenly Jean gets a good look at Mikasa. It’s only then when she realizes that the look on her pretty face must be oh-so captivated by the tale of how her roommate’s drunk friend ended up alone on a Friday night. Or technically, a Saturday morning.  

Jean looks slightly embarrassed as he points out the obvious. “You don’t care, do you?”

Mikasa doesn’t nod nor shrug, though she does walk back to the kitchenette. “You did have me at ‘weird night’ though.”

She hears Jean sigh as she pulls back the paper lid of her ramen, the mere sound igniting a sense of nostalgia inside of her. Who knew that such a simple sensation could remind her of her stress-filled undergrad days? All-nighters were certainly not the same without microwaving some dehydrated noodles just to feel something. Nonetheless, she can feel parts of herself easing up as prepares her dinner, a feeling that she had been seeking for the last few hours. It’s not much but it’s something, which is coincidentally a fitting way to describe her career in academia so far. 

When she spares a glance to Jean he’s still standing awkwardly in the main space, running a hand through his hair. On a normal day it would be slicked and styled, usually with some kind of pomade, but now it looks like an unkempt mess, various strands having been pushed out of place, the shorter ones sticking out to the sides. 

“Uh… would you mind if I sat for a bit?” he tries. 

Mikasa avoids his gaze. “Don’t let me stop you.” 

Another sigh follows as Jean sheds his peacoat and tosses it on a nearby chair. Mikasa only focuses on her sorry excuse for a meal, though she manages to look over just in time to see Jean clambering onto the couch. 

His presence has always been a recurring sight, as Sasha’s quite fond of having her boys over. Mikasa has seen Jean crashing in the living room all the time, usually after a hockey game or a night out, occasions that both involve copious beer swigging before the sudden need to lie down. Even if he doesn’t own a car and there’s no worry of him getting behind the wheel, sleeping at Sasha’s is a lot safer than heading back to Griffintown while stumbling drunk. Jean usually opts for the couch, but will go for the armchair if Connie’s staying over as well. It seems that he cares about the guy enough to spend a night awkwardly curled onto something better made for sitting and not sleeping. 

But to see Jean sans Sasha is strange, Mikasa notices. There’s an uncanniness to it all, when the familiar clashes with the unusual. A part of her is expecting Sasha to pop in like a sitcom character and yell at Jean in an amusing mix of French and English, but another part knows that it won’t happen. 

Mikasa’s not sure if she’s entirely comfortable with Jean being here or not, but to say that she abhors the presence of another on the day that she just had would be a lie. At least Jean’s tipsy stumbling creates a suitable distraction from her slipping into despair.

Another sigh escapes Jean’s lips once he’s on the cushions. He looks slightly more disheveled than before, the top buttons of his shirt remaining undone with the hem sticking out from the bottom of his waistcoat. 

With Jean looking more exhausted than concerned with his appearance for once, Mikasa wonders exactly how long he had wandered in the cold before arriving at the apartment. How much time he had spent in the park with some cheap whiskey before realizing he needed to take a leak? How long did it take for him to get to the apartment? At least the image of him floundering around in the dark courtyard is amusing.

Having tended to Sasha (and occasionally herself) after many nights out, Mikasa pours another glass of water and walks over to Jean. It takes him a second to realize she’s handing it to her and he accepts it without complaint. 

“Merci.”

His fingers graze hers as he takes the glass from her hand. The contact is brief but it’s just enough to make her notice just how warm he is — certainly a lot warmer than one would expect from a guy who just walked several blocks in the cold. She tries not to linger on the thought as she goes back to the kitchenette and grabs her dinner. 

She ends up sitting on an armchair across the couch. Curling up with a cup of noodles is not how she expected to spend her Friday night, especially with the tipsy guy sitting nearby, but it’s better than continuing to lie face down on her bed for all eternity. In that sense, perhaps Jean banging on her door at one in the morning is a blessing in disguise.  

Mikasa doesn’t look him in the eye when she speaks. “You might as well stay here.” 

Jean hums, then puts his empty glass on the coffee table. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

“You’re not.” 

Mikasa finds herself more distracted by her food than the hunky Quebecer on the couch. Only a few minutes ago a sense of hunger had been pulsating through her stomach, but now as she sits in her chair and pokes at the noodles with a fork, she can’t find it in her to actually eat. She’s not sure what it is — the stress, the fear of the following week, or something in that brown-bagged whiskey — either way, Mikasa’s appetite is gone. 

Frustrated with herself, she puts her noodles down on the table. “Take this,” she tells Jean, still not looking him in the eye. “I can’t eat.” 

His first response is that of concern. “Are you okay?”

She sits back on the chair, crossing her arms over her chest to keep herself busy. “Why do you ask?”

“‘Cause you look like shit.”

Mikasa finally meets his gaze by shooting him an incredulous look, which causes Jean to immediately perform a verbal backspace. 

“I mean! You look like you feel like shit!” he corrects. For a brief moment it seems that he would want nothing more than to dive out the nearest window and never return. Thankfully, he manages to suck in a breath and regain himself. “What happened?”

Mikasa shakes her head. “It’s fine.”

Jean doesn’t miss a beat before saying — “No, it’s not.”

She shoots him another odd look, though not one in disbelief over the audacity of Jean’s tongue. But rather, a look filled with intrigue, even if it is subdued. She’s immediately curious about exactly what he’s getting at, what her roommate’s tipsy friend is looking to find in a conversation like this. What does it even matter to him?

His face remains focused, serious. Unlike the sentence before, he doesn’t regret his words.

“But hey, you don’t have to tell me,” he soon says, shrugging. He begins undoing the buttons of his fancy waistcoat, perhaps in a similar bid to keep himself busy. “Sorry I pried. I’ll…” He looks to be thinking for a moment, then shakes his head. “Forget about me, I’m drunk.” 

“If you really want to know…” Mikasa starts, and each word that leaves her mouth feels bolder than the one before. She hadn’t expected to open up about her plight this soon, but the second she speaks she finds herself unable to stop. “My thesis proposal got turned down. Again.” 

Seconds pass as Jean’s face softens, becoming considerably less serious and a lot more worried. 

“...Marde.” 

Her first reaction is to scoff. “Yeah… marde.” 

And some say that her grasp on French is lacking. 

More seconds pass as Jean appears to be thinking of the right thing to say. “What do you have to do now?” 

She’s not sure what to tell him. They may study at the same university, but the School of Agricultural and Environmental Science feels quite removed from the School of Architecture. And if both departments were to ever intersect then she hadn’t been told of it. She’s tempted to bore him with the details, to explain the intricacies of why her attempts at studying plant pathology could not stand out from her predecessors. She could even put it in layman’s terms and say that she needs to be more creative in discovering all the horrible ways crops get sick and die. 

“I don’t know,” Mikasa decides to say, her shoulders slumping as she speaks. “My advisor wants to meet on Monday…” she sighs, already dreading the moment where she’ll walk into his office. “...so I guess I’ll figure it out then.” 

Jean nods. “You’ll make it through.”

Without missing a beat, she looks up at him and shoots him a glare. “You don’t know that.” 

A few seconds of silence go by and all Mikasa can hear is the sound of cars outside her window. Jean’s eyes remain affixed to hers, wherein she can see the sense of determination inside of him, a refusal to take back his words despite her reaction. 

“Yeah, maybe I don’t,” he reasons. “But you’re tough. You’ll make it, trust me.” 

Once again she’s tempted to tell him that he’s wrong, that he doesn’t know what he’s saying and that he’s talking out of his ass. Or that he’s drunk and won’t even remember his words in the morning. But for the life of her she can’t, and she’s not really sure why. 

Maybe it’s because at this point of the night she lacks the energy to argue, as despite her hours of sleep she still feels exhausted. But perhaps it has to do with Jean’s words in itself, the fact that what he’s saying is meant to comfort, to assure, and even she’s not cynical enough to deny it. It seems at this point of the evening her brain is quite desperate for something that isn’t an endless pit of mental anguish, whether it pertains to her academic career or her current life choices.

Somehow the cloud of stress in her head starts to fade, though in doing so a different kind of nervousness takes control, a restless feeling that makes her cross her arms over her chest even harder to quell the jitters in her system. When she looks at Jean he’s still focused on her. To distract herself she tries to focus on other parts of him, like the short beard on his face, hair that’s a shade darker than that on his head, or the way he has undone the buttons on his waistcoat. 

“I should probably sleep,” he suddenly declares, and a part of Mikasa wonders if he noticed the different kind of agitation now plaguing her. 

She’s very tempted to not let the conversation end before saying “Thank you, Jean” or something of the like. She hasn’t even said his name all night. 

But instead of speaking she stands up, ignoring the way Jean fidgets with his shirt again. 

“You could sleep in Sasha’s bed,” she suggests. 

“Nah, I’ll take the couch,” Jean insists. “I don’t wanna sleep in a place that she and Niccolo might’ve… y’know.” 

Mikasa rolls her eyes, but heeds to his request while trying not to envision any part of Jean’s statement. She goes to the closet in the narrow hallway and takes out the several blankets hidden inside, most of which are hers but tonight they will be Jean’s. With the slightest bits of frost clinging to the windows, he might need them more than her. 

She goes back to Jean at the couch. He has shed his waistcoat and now his dress shirt is completely unbuttoned, exposing his chest just enough for Mikasa to remind herself that it would be disrespectful to stare. 

When he sees her with an armful of blankets he stands up. “Oh, thanks.” He takes the bundle from her and she lets him.

“You’re welcome,” she says as their hands end up grazing again. He’s still warm, or maybe she’s just cold. “And Jean?”

His eyebrow quirks up. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” 

He tilts his head to the side, confused. “For what?”

“For talking to me,” she simplifies, which might be as good an explanation as he’ll get.

Jean manages a smile, a kindly one. “It’s all good,” he tells her, then shrugs playfully. “Maybe we should talk more often.” 

Mikasa thinks it through, then supposes that it won’t be a bad idea. She does need to make more friends in the city, despite being here for over a year.

“I’d be okay with that.” 

The grin on his handsome face gets just a little bit wider. “I hope so. Good night.” 

Not a second passes before Jean leans in and presses a quick kiss to Mikasa’s cheek. The gesture is absurdly quick, too fast for either of them to realize what they’re doing. Mikasa doesn’t avoid him and Jean doesn’t stop himself.

But the second his lips graze her they both pull back. Two pairs of eyes are wide in shock, disbelief, the caring cordiality between mere friends having been cut by something so forward.

Mikasa goes still. She sees the regret in Jean’s gaze, as well as the red tint coming to his cheeks, one that could probably not be blamed on the alcohol. 

“Oh, uh…” Jean stammers out. “I’m sorry… so sorry… I shouldn’t have done that, I’ll… I’m sorry.” 

In a rush he turns around and plops the blankets on the couch, both in an attempt to avoid her gaze and hide his blush. He begins to assemble the makeshift bed. 

With his eyes no longer on her, Mikasa reaches up to her face. With the gentlest touch she touches the spot where he had kissed her, recreating the feeling of a gesture that happened only seconds ago. She thinks of what she felt when he kissed her — even though it was over as soon as it began she tries to extrapolate her frame of mind when it happened. She’s seen him do the motion before, usually to Sasha and occasionally Connie, a playful sign of affection between close companions. Perhaps his muscle memory had taken control at the right place and wrong time.  

The realization that she didn’t hate it comes to her gently. 

Mikasa looks to Jean as he fusses over his sleeping arrangement. Her heart is beating fast but she finally speaks.

“Could you…”

Jean stops what he’s doing and looks up. The sight of her still touching her cheek both ignites and baffles him. 

It’s strange that the boldest thing Mikasa could possibly say all night comes when she feels nervous, disarmed, like it’s her turn to finally fantasize about jumping out the window and plummeting to the street below. Her hand moves from her face to a spot just under her neck, where she grasps the fabric of her clothing and squeezes it hard. 

“...could you do that again?”

A beat follows, then Jean straightens up and steps forward. For a second he hovers near her, and though he looks unsure he seems to be searching for the right thing to do. The next step, perhaps. 

“You mean like…?” he starts, then leans over to kiss her cheek again, the same one. 

The kiss is a little bit longer, not a brisk peck like before, but something that gives her enough time to close her eyes and savour the feeling. It’s sweet, simple, and she still doesn’t hate it. 

Jean pulls away just as she’s getting used to his beard tickling her cheek. Their eyes meet and she’s reminded that his are hazel — the kind with the slightest specks of green, the kind that almost shimmer in this light. 

Mikasa lets out a nervous breath. “Uh, I actually meant…” 

Jean practically reads her mind. He leans forward and closes the space between their lips, and once again Mikasa closes her eyes and lets him kiss her. 

She’s been kissed before, though only once. It feels like only yesterday she was a lonely, isolated undergrad who only concerned herself with studies. Attending a single party in her senior year was her attempt to be social, and it was in a sea of U of T students that she briefly locked lips with a stranger. The moment was fleeting and she can’t even remember their name. She’s not even sure if such a thing counts as a first kiss. 

So Jean feels different. His kiss starts out chaste, gentle, almost experimental, like he’s testing the waters to see how she feels. His nose brushes against hers and parts of her begin softening up. 

When they break away their eyes meet again, both pensive in the aftermath, but not a moment too soon Mikasa leans in and meets his lips once more. Her hand releases the material of her shirt and finds his chin, guiding him as she deepens the gesture. She needs this to be real, even if for a second. 

Soon Jean’s palms are on her cheeks and his touch feels so sweet. He’s still warm as continues the kiss. When his lips leave hers she lets him, keeping her eyes closed. Slowly, he kisses other parts of her face, like her other cheek, the spot under her right eye where her childhood scar is, a part of her that she had never expected to be treated with such care and grace. There’s even a moment where she needs to remind herself to breathe. His kisses move to her eyelids and remain just as tender. Both her hands find his shoulders and she still doesn’t want him to stop. 

Time goes by before Mikasa and Jean finally pull away. For a few more seconds their gazes hold, dark meeting light. 

“Weird night,” Jean soon says. When he realizes his hands are still on her face he takes a step back, looking embarrassed as he rubs his nape. 

“Yeah,” Mikasa nods along, her voice taking a breathless quality. “Weird night.” 

Before she can contemplate another brilliant idea, she turns away and heads to her bedroom. 

“See you,” she says instead of something more fitting, like ‘Good Night’ or ‘Sweet Dreams.’ Doing so could lead to more harm than good.

When Mikasa bumps into her own door frame, the last thing she sees on Jean’s handsome face is an expression of concern before she seals herself away. 

She tries not to sigh too loudly once she’s in her room. Regret is not what rushes through her as she tumbles onto her bed — in fact, she knows that if she had stayed in the living space for any longer she would’ve asked him to kiss her again, as embarrassing as it is. The thought of wanting more doesn’t leave her head, even if she’s not entirely sure what ‘more’ means. Maybe kiss her harder? Run his hands through her hair? Push her against a wall like in movies? It’s perplexing to suddenly fantasize about something that doesn’t remotely happen in real life.

The fact that she enjoyed it doesn’t make her as distraught as she expected, but now that it’s over her past satisfaction doesn’t bring much comfort either. 

As she crawls under her blanket with all the grace of a sad puppy, two parts of her begin wrestling with each other — the side of her that enjoyed the kiss and wished she had the courage to ask for another, and the side that deems it a bad idea. 

As she tries to force herself to sleep, the part that hates herself starts to win. She’s reminded that Jean had been drinking and that she only asked him to kiss her because she was feeling sad, vulnerable, and desperate. How pathetic, how sad. Making out with her roommate’s guy friend because she feels like shit and needs a distraction is a new low, even for her. She should be locked up. 

But the part of her that strives to be kind, especially to herself, says otherwise. She rationalizes that she can talk to Jean later, when he’ll be sober — or hungover — and they can discuss things like adults. She also remembers that she had the decency to ask him to kiss her, and had he said no then at least they could laugh about it later. Maybe. 

Then a third part, one whose existence was unforeseen even to her, is not necessarily thinking, but remembering. She’ll drift back into the memory of the kiss — the way Jean’s nose brushed against hers, how his short beard tickled her chin, how he treated every point of contact with the utmost care. There are even moments where she’ll imagine what would have happened if they continued, because even now she still can’t deny that she wanted to. Possibilities slip into her head, and for the briefest moment she wonders how the rest of her evening would have played out with the extra weight on her bed. 

At some point of the night — she doesn’t know exactly when — Mikasa begins drifting back to a much-needed sleep. Her internal battle fades away, and in its place are thoughts regarding the cars outside her window, the cold that seeps into every corner of her Plateau apartment, and the feeling of Jean Kirschtein’s lips on hers. 

[liquorisce]

Do you have like little observations or details about IDILY's Eren and Mikasa that didn't make it to the final story? Like very little facts about them that you thought about but weren't relevant to the story, or you just didn't incorporate but thought about, or even your own "headcanons" about them in the story?

I've been waiting for a long time to answer this bc i needed to be at my desk but!!! tysm for this question

i wrote a huge bit about mikasa's childhood and how she became friends with armin... that didn't make it in the story :( idk if i will be able to fit it in later or when i finally finish it and go back to revise it maybe i can fit it in... if u have any suggestions pls share :)

but here u go!!

i dreamed i left you - deleted scene [4.5k+]

MIKASA

[14 years old]

One day when I was fourteen, my mother told me I’d be changing schools. I blinked at her slowly and asked only one thing, “But Mother, it’s the middle of term. Won’t it affect my grades?” 

“No, Mikasa. They said they’ll take care of it.” And then she sat next to me and did something she did often when she wanted to tell me something she deemed important; she caressed my hair and tucked it behind my ear. “Listen to me carefully.” I was right. “This is a really good opportunity for you, Mikasa. It is a very prestigious school. And we are so lucky that we have a chance to send you to a school like this,” she hesitated at this, looking somewhat shameful, “with our limited means.” 

Growing up poor makes you understand these sorts of euphemisms well. Limited means, Our station, Within our status; these were just different ways to talk about money and our lack thereof. “Then how will we manage, Mother?” 

She gave me a forced smile. “One of the patrons of the restaurant has arranged it. You will have a full scholarship until you finish your studies.” She patted my head, signaling the end of our conversation. “Pending good grades, of course.” 

My mother never had to worry about that. My grades were always excellent. It was something she’d beaten into me when I got my first grade: A–, on a math test. Turns out I had made a mistake and added two lemons into the basket instead of removing them, and hence arrived at an incorrect total. I made sure to read every question at least twice, ever since then, just to be sure. And if I ever forgot, she was always happy to remind me, ruler in hand. 

“What does that mean then? A prestigious school?” My friend Sasha had asked me when I told her we could no longer eat lunch together every day. That was my comprehension of friendship back then. My life had little in the name of adversity, for a friend to adopt any opposing significance. And I didn’t have much time, with all the extra-curriculars my mother had packed into my schedule, for playdates or any such thing. 

“Mother says it means a lot of important people send their kids there to study.” 

“So does that mean they’re all smart? That would make sense,” Sasha says thoughtfully. “You’re a smart girl, Mikasa.” 

“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. “I do think they’d have much fancier lunches than you or I, though.” 

Sasha pouts at her egg sandwiches. “I’m jealous. Although I love your lunch! Mama Ackerman makes the best stir-fried noodles.”

I passed her the rest of my lunch and gave her a small smile. “She only makes it because she knows you eat more than half of it.” It was true, the cut apples and bananas were meant to make up a significant portion of my lunch.

My uniform arrived the weekend before I was meant to start. It was fancier than my current one. It had a little gold logo, with three ornate circles intersecting with each other. And the fabric was better too, the sweater was actually warm, and the colours were a pleasing cream and white instead of the ugly grey that I wore until last week. 

I stared at my reflection in the mirror as my mother pulled on my hair ungently and combed it back into a braid. My bangs covered my forehead. “Did you memorise the list that I gave you?” She asked. 

“Yes.” 

“It’s important for you to understand who is who. This isn’t like your public school—” 

“I memorised it and went through it twice again this morning.” 

“Okay…” I look up at her. My mother and eye have the same eyes, the same hair and probably the same face shape as when she was about twenty years younger. “I know I’m hard on you,” she says, with considerable discomfort. 

I don’t say anything back. What would be the point of acknowledging this? Yes, I breathe air. Yes, my mother treated me harshly. Felt equivalent. Felt normal. She turns me around me and slicks my flyaways down. “But we need to work hard. People like us don’t get the opportunity to take it easy.” 

As I walked the entire way to school that day— my new school was thirty minutes away by foot, whereas my previous school was just one block away— I thought about what she said. At first, I thought that she meant people like us, people without money, could not afford to take it easy, but when I think back to it, she had a faraway look in her eyes. Perhaps she meant the other thing— the matter of our otherness. 

My mother was from overseas. That’s all she said about it. Nothing more to be said, she’d tell me whenever I dared to press her on the subject. As far as she was concerned, I was from here: a real, proper citizen of Paradis. Born and brought up here, I’d never stepped foot on another land. But it didn’t matter. Paradis didn’t have the best of international relations, and here I am, with the face of an outsider. 

I thought this is what had worried my mother, who had obsessively made me memorize a list of “important people” and their children who apparently attended this school. So I now stare at the tall, iron gates that housed a school that looked more like a castle, replete with towers and a medieval facade, with my head filled with names of people I’d never met before. 

<hr>

I didn’t get it at first, but eventually, I understood why my mother made me do it. Apparently “Hi, my name is Mikasa Ackerman,” didn’t really cut it as an introduction around here. There was a lot of “who’s your father?” and “what does your father do?” talk that sounded plain odd to me. I doubt anybody other than Sasha and a couple of other girls, from my previous school, cared to know that my parents owned a small but popular noodle shop in the city centre. But my answers of “Henrik Ackerman,” and “He owns Lemongrass, a noodle shop on 17th Main,” didn’t seem to impress many. So eventually, I just kept my head down and avoided introductions altogether. You didn’t have to speak to anybody if weren’t in anybody’s way. 

It wasn’t always easy though. On one such occasion, I was paired up with Armin Arlert for a history assignment, and as my list of names would remind me, he was the grandson of a very influential ex-Foreign Minister. I stuck my hand out towards him but he didn’t take it. “Mikasa Ackerman, I know,” he says, giving me a small smile, as we head out of class. He saved me the trouble of introduction, but I couldn’t help but wonder what else he knew about me, what else he had heard. 

“My name’s Armin, which you also know, I suppose.” He watches me with his clear blue eyes from across the table. His voice is not fully broken, and he wears his hair in an adorable bowl cut, but as soft as he looked, I could tell there was a hardness within him. It felt comfortable, to be honest. After all, I had a hardness within me too. 

“So,” he said, the next day, when we sat at the library going through a list of potential topics for our paper. “How do you like it at the Academy so far?” 

“It’s nice,” I say automatically. “It’s a wonderful opportunity to be here.” 

“Is it?” I can hear the laughter in his voice. 

“Isn’t it?” 

“I haven’t been anywhere else, so I couldn’t tell you.” 

“The cafeteria is better,” I decide to say, after a moment’s pause. “Than my previous school.” 

He hums and looks back into his notebook. After a few minutes he looks up at me again, “And the people? Are you liking it around here?” 

I’m not sure if he genuinely wants to know, because it was rather obvious that I wasn’t the very social kind. Or perhaps he really doesn’t know, it’s not his business after all. So I tell him, “I’m a bit of a loner, actually.” 

“Amongst this crowd who wouldn’t be.” I raised my eyes at this. Why would a boy like him be a loner, in this school? He had the wealth and the status that, as I had understood after the first four weeks here, would attract anybody into friendship. 

I’d been so absorbed in myself and my desire to stay out of everybody’s way that I hadn’t really noticed anybody else. And when I actually cared to notice, I realised that he was being truthful. Armin didn’t appear to assimilate easily into the crowd of designer brand-wearing, father’s name-touting, genus of Academy students. Instead, he quite often disagreed with them, vocally, sometimes even resulting in skirmishes. 

 One day at lunch— we’d started having lunch together after Armin had shown up on the bench where I ate and said, “figured you wouldn’t mind if another loner joined you,” — he turned up with a swollen cheek and angry tears on his lashes. “Jesus, Armin.” 

“Can you hold up my bangs?” He asks, sounding sulky. “It hurts when my hair keeps touching my cheek.” 

I pull out a bobby pin from my own hair and stick it into his. “We should probably get some ice for you.”

“Already got it.” And he begins to press it onto his cheek, grumbling incoherently. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

“If that’s your question, no, I do not want to tell you—” 

“Just tell me what happened.” 

He sighs. “It’s nothing new, Mikasa. Just…” 

I take the ice from him and hold it against his cheek. “Some of the guys from the hockey team were asking if we’re dating.” 

“Oh? That’s— well,” I blush slightly, but I’m not sure why. It’s definitely not because of any secret feelings. “I’m not really allowed to date, you know.” 

Armin looks at me like I have two heads. “Well, parents aren’t really going to be out here saying hey, why don’t you go around smooching that other kid over there! Not when you’re fourteen, but kids do it anyway.” He cringes visibly. “Well maybe Ruth’s mother does, but you know what I mean.” 

I look at him like I don’t know what he means. “Wait,” he says slowly. “What do you mean you’re not allowed to date?” 

“I’m not,” I shrug. “My parents have a very clear no-boys policy while I’m in school. Or probably until marriage, but I haven’t really pressed the details to be honest.” 

Armin is gaping at me. “And you have never wanted to…” 

“We’re only fourteen,” I say somewhat defensively. 

“Almost fifteen,” he corrects sharply, and then, blushing, he says “I-I’ve had crushes before.” He is hiding under his long blonde bangs, which I somehow thought was very cute. 

“Really? What’s it like, then? Having a crush.” 

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.” He looks somewhat mortified. As if the question I asked was not the logical follow-up to his admitting to having crushes on people. 

“I suppose I could ask you who you have a crush on. If that’s what you want.” 

“Mikasa, you’re weird,” he says, cheeks still giving away his embarrassment. At least he didn’t look upset anymore. 

“So does that mean I won’t be getting any answers?” I tease him. 

He takes a deep breath. “Okay. You promise not to judge me or anything?”

“Do you have a crush on a teacher or something?” I grin. I could see that with Armin. His naturally inquisitive nature and excellent grades made them quite fond of him. I’d even heard some of the other students grumbling about how he was a ‘teacher’s pet.’ 

“No! What?” he sputters, “I don’t think we should be making light of the power imbalance in that dynamic—” 

“It’s a crush, Armin, not a relationship. Anyway, if not a teacher, then who is this mysterious crush of yours that you are so hesitant to tell me about?” 

He huffs. “Ok but you have to swear not to tell anyone about it.” 

I roll my eyes. “Pinky promise.” 

“You know that guy in second year? Boris Feulner?” 

I can vaguely recollect such a name on my mother’s list. “Mm-hmm.” 

“We go to swimming lessons together. And I, um—” Armin is positively pink at this point. He is twisting the pink ends of his fingers, there is a pink flush along his neck, and his cheeks have also attained that colour; impressively, his entire body is pink. “Well, let’s just say that I have spent an ungodly amount of time imagining him in his swimsuit when I’m back in my room.” 

I blink at him. And then I burst out laughing. “That’s your way of saying that you find him attractive?” 

“It’s not funny.” 

“No, I guess not,” I say, still laughing. “What’s to judge here? He’s one class higher than us, is he?” 

“No, that’s not it. It’s the fact that, well, that he’s a he. That I find him attractive.” A stupid look crosses his face, and it’s Armin, so stupid looks seldom cross his face. 

“That’s quite last decade of you to be embarrassed about something like that,” I say thoughtlessly. “Isn’t it legal now to be with whoever you want?” 

“My sexuality is not about keeping with the times, Mikasa,” he snaps. Ok, I guess I deserved that. 

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, “I didn’t mean it like that, Armin.” 

He waves me off impatiently. “Anyway, in case you hadn’t noticed, what is legal isn’t always what is accepted. Here,” he makes a circle to denote this school, “amongst this world, everyone plays by a specific set of rules. What you study, who you date, who you marry, it’s all scripted. Sons take over their father’s businesses, whether it falls into legal or illegal lines, and women frame their fancy diplomas and stand by their husbands at galas and make polite talk, and when it’s time, they pop out a baby or two to do their ‘duty.’”

I listen to him, stunned. “What do you mean… They don’t go to work, after all this?” By all this what I meant, was the ridiculous amount of tuition that was being spent on a school like this. Followed by, no doubt, even more expensive tuition for a college degree they would never use. 

“They don’t need to.” Armin’s voice drops to a hushed murmur. “Half of the kids here belong to Mafia families, the other half mostly politics or business. All of them, every last one, is corrupt.” 

“B-but I thought—” 

“Everyone’s got legitimate businesses to cover up anything shady, so no, nobody is going to introduce themselves as the daughter of an Underground Family.”

He gives me a pitying look, probably at the cluelessness that I can’t hide. “Sheesh, you don’t know anything, do you? Where are you even from?” 

“I told you already,” I say, somewhat irritated, “... we live close to the Oriental Quarter. My Father just owns a restaurant, I know that there’s,” I gesture vaguely, “some sort of mafia, but I don’t really know much more than that. I can’t really tell the difference between the Mafia and the police anyway.” 

“And that’s the real problem with our society,” he mutters angrily. His blue eyes return to mine. “I know that’s what you said, but I thought… Usually, everybody has more of a story here.” 

“No story here,” I say blandly, “Just the daughter of a restaurant owner.” Who is apparently clueless and kept deliberately misinformed. 

It’s not that I didn’t know about the Mafia. In Sina, it’s something you grow up with. You have the government, you have the police, and you have the Mafia, or the Underground, as it’s called here. The truth is, there’s no way to ignore it. When I was old enough to be at the restaurant to help with small chores and odd jobs, my parents drilled it into me: Keep your head down, be polite, give them what they want, and get on with your day. I’d seen Mother and Father do it too, to ‘important customers,’ treating them like God as soon as they stepped into our small joint. Handing envelopes of cash to men with guns hanging off their low-slung jeans, and unruly hair.that  Money that my parents spent their blood, sweat and tears on. That’s who I thought of when I heard ‘Mafia.’ 

When I was younger I almost asked them why they gave away their own hard-earned money to somebody else when it was them who worked for it. Don’t we own the restaurant, Papa? I almost asked him once. But something held me back. Much later, after eavesdropping on an argument between my parents, I learnt that it was “protection.” That these men— who I’d grown to believe were so important— were just enforcers who collected payments from us in turn for their ‘protection’, a heavily jargoned word that people would often mistake for defence against an outsider, but what it really was, was a bribe. A fee extorted from people who had no other choice. I guess I’d always known that the Mafia was a bigger thing, something I couldn’t even comprehend, invisible but everywhere. 

What I had never imagined was that they would exist in a world like this: Shiny and filthy rich, dressing their children in the most expensive linens, while they were up to their arms in blood. Milling companies, Breweries, Textile manufacturers, I saw literally everything on that list and didn’t suspect once that they had anything to do with the Underground. And now they were all around me.

“You’re shaking,” Armin says, softly. “Mikasa, are you okay?” 

I nod, and try to say something, but I can’t find the words. Something has happened to me. I feel choked, my heartbeat has begun to pulse rapidly. My hands are balled into fists on my skirt. “I just—” I suddenly remember the time I’d seen my father with a gun to his temple, his voice shaking as he asked me to leave the room. I remember that when he came home that night, my mother was crying and we ate little more than leftovers that entire week because “business was not that good”. “I—” I remember the time I went to fetch onions from the store because we ran out. When I came back one of the men had his hand on my Mother’s behind as he ordered food and my mother was frozen still. “I hate them,” I manage finally, and my voice is raspy and unlike myself. There are little crescent moons in my palm from where I have dug my fingernails into them. “I hate them,” I say even louder, this time more frantic, “I hate them so much–” 

“Mikasa!” Armin’s hand is heavy on my shoulder and he looks at me alarmed, baby-blue eyes filled with concern. That’s when I realise I was almost screaming. “I know.” He squeezes my hand. “I know. I hate them too.”

It’s been so long since I’ve felt this feeling. Every now and then I feel it, this shaking, violent, urge that spills out of my throat and into a bottle inside of my heart, every time topping up and up and up until now, when the lid shakes and it threatens to spill over. “I feel angry too,” Armin is saying. I don’t hear him fully because the violence inside of me is loud. “It isn’t right. None of this is right.” 

Angry? Somehow that word doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like it’s enough to contain everything that this feeling really is. 

Eventually my vision refocused, and my breathing calmed. Armin was still watching me carefully, his cheek swollen and his lips bitten. “Anyway,” he said tentatively, after he had given me enough time to be in my own head. “Do you want to know the rest of what happened with the hockey boys?” 

“Sorry,” I say, distractedly, “... We veered off.” 

He waves me off again. “I told them we weren’t dating. They didn’t believe me at first. But then one of them said,” he puffs his shoulders up and deepens his voice comically, “She doesn’t date faggots, probably.”

“Armin,” I gasp, shocked. 

“It’s fine, he’s not wrong.” He shuts up my sputtering buts, and grins, looking mighty pleased with himself. “I told him you didn’t date braindead morons like him either.” 

I groan. “And that’s why you got socked?” 

He shrugs. “Well was I wrong?”

…

Two months into our second year in high school, our class teacher announced that a new student would be joining us. By this time, Armin and I had grown comfortable enough to pick our seats side by side. This school was well funded so we had nice seats, with a little cushion on the chair, and a large enough desk to spread out your things comfortably. There was little space between us, so a mid-volume whisper was sufficient to communicate during class, most times. 

Armin looked disinterested, but I was curious about this new student. It was somebody outside of my list, after all. A few minutes after being told by Miss Langnar to welcome the new kid and help him cover up anything he might have missed, the ‘kid’ in question walked in. It was probably strange to refer to another student, at my grand old age of fifteen, as a ‘kid,’ but it seemed to suit him. He was tall, with dark brown hair that didn’t sit very neatly atop his head, and large green eyes that seemed like a mirror to his soul. Perhaps it was quite a dramatic thing to say about somebody whose name I didn’t even know, but I felt certain of it. For example, I could see now that he was angry. He wasn’t happy to be here, and it shone in the brilliance of his verdant eyes, making even a thing like anger appear to be beautiful. I wondered what it must be like to live in that way, to be so honest whether you wanted to be or not.

I felt a sting of envy at that moment, just as my Mother’s words resounded in my head. “Save your anger, Mikasa,” she’d tell me, after whatever punishment she was ‘forced’ to give me— she was always forced to punish me, you see, she didn’t have a choice, it was the only way I would learn my lesson— “it makes you look ugly.” 

“Eren Jaeger,” he says, his voice clipped, not offering anything more as an introduction.

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell your classmates about yourself, Eren?” Miss Langnar prompted kindly, after the awkward moment of silence. 

“Nope. Not really.” 

She looked taken aback, not having expected that response. “Well, why don’t you take a seat next to Mikasa?” She pointed towards the empty desk to my right. “I’m sure she’ll be willing to show you all the important resources in the school and help you catch up.”

Eren Jaeger looked at me then, his large green eyes came to rest on mine. My breath hitched ever so slightly, and I tugged on my lower lip with my teeth. “Sure, Miss Langnar,” I said, sounding somewhat different than usual. 

He watched me as he walked to his desk, as he slid into his seat. And then, unexpectedly, he gave me a small smile. “Hey,” he said. His eyes were still stormy, a deep annoyance swirling within them, but his gesture let me know that it had nothing to do with me. My teeth dug further into my lower lip, any more and it would have bled. Forcing it loose, I replied, “Hi.” 

He craned his neck and looked past me, and then said, “Armin.” 

Armin lifted a hand and gave him a small smile. 

I looked at Armin, my eyebrows arched. You know him?

Armin wasn’t telepathic of course so I don’t know if he understood my unspoken question, but he just shrugged at me and turned his attention to what the teacher was saying. 

I watched Eren out of the corner of my eye. He sat back in his seat in a sort of slouch. It instinctively made me sit up a little bit straighter; I would have been beaten at home if I ever displayed that sort of posture. Miss Langnar has begun her lesson and Eren looked straight at her, but I can tell it was that sort of vacant look where he was looking but not really seeing. Primarily because she asked us to take out our textbooks and turn to page 53, and Eren hadn’t moved a muscle. 

“I can share with you, if you like,” I whisper, hoping it was loud enough and that I wouldn’t have to repeat myself because, surprisingly, these words had taken considerable effort. 

He blinks at me, somewhat lost, and then looks at my textbook, which I have pushed towards him. “Oh,” he said. And then he pushed his seat closer to mine, making his desk incongruent from the rest of the line of desks, the noise attracting glances from everybody else. I can feel my cheeks heat up. “Thanks.”

I nod, feeling inexplicably shy, for no apparent reason, pushing my book further towards him until it was half on his desk and half on mine. When Miss Langnar is done with what is on this page and it is time to turn the page, my hand brushes his. I jerked my hand back, feeling an electric tingle on the tips of my fingertips. My heart felt as if it was in my mouth. Eren looked at me strangely. “Sorry,” he said, sounding more confused than sorry.

I sank back into my seat feeling a bit foolish. I wasn’t sure why I was behaving this way, and I was even less sure of why I felt this way. Whatever it was that I was feeling, that is. 

A small folded piece of paper falls into my lap. Are you okay? It reads. I turn around to give Armin a reassuring smile, but when he saw me, his blue eyes twinkled with humour, and his mouth curved into a smirk. 

He throws another wad of paper at me. You’re blushing.

I am not. I write back. But as I write it, I can feel my cheeks grow warmer with embarrassment. What was going on with me?

“Armin,” Miss Langnar called. For a second I worried that she had caught on to our secret messaging system, but it turns out she just called him to hand out worksheets, as she always does, always preferring Armin to do these types of things. 

He still has that smirk on his face when he hands us our worksheets, and for some reason, I feel even more embarrassed now, in front of Eren. 

Later, after two more classes of me sharing my textbooks with Eren, our hands touching inadvertently, and me getting slowly better with my reactions, I slip Armin another note. 

The new boy is pretty, don’t you think? 

I watched Armin as he opened it, feeling unbearably hot in anticipation that he was about to read those words. I wished I could reach out and take it back from him. But I already felt like enough of a fool today. He almost bursts out laughing when he reads it and I want to bury myself in the ground. 

I glance at Eren, and he looks utterly bored— and I thought to myself that this person next to me could even make boredom look pretty. Like it was more of a meaningful thing, as if this plane, and all of us mortals who roamed it, weren’t interesting enough to keep his attention. 

Another paper falls in my lap. Mikasa, do you have a CRUSH?? On Eren Jaeger??

I crumple the paper as quickly as I can, casting a furtive glance at my neighbour, who thankfully, seemed blissfully unaware. 

Ignoring what Armin said, I wrote back, He is pretty, though. Don’t you agree? 

Armin rolled his eyes. FINE. Sure. But I can’t believe The great Mikasa Ackerman finally has a crush on somebody!!!!

Despite my embarrassment, I felt a small smile creep onto my face. I folded the paper neatly and put it in my skirt pocket. So that’s what this, I thought to myself. A crush. 

[theotherackerman]

NOTES: This chapter was supposed to cover up until New Years but it didn't feel right to just sort of gloss over some of these plot points. So here this chapter is. Enjoy!

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentioned sexual harassment and body shaming (not on the page)

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan

CHAPTER THREE:  FRIENDS?

Mikasa had not expected Eren’s apartment to be so clean. Then again, Carla never let him get away with a messy room. 

The layout seemed very similar to Mikasa’s, which made sense since the entire top floor was just cut into the two penthouse apartments. 

On one wall, there was a poster of the starting line up. Jean, Falco, Connie, Armin, Eren, and Colt all trying to look badass as they pointed their hockey sticks towards the camera.

On the opposite wall, there was the wings of freedom, the symbols of the Scouts. 

The front wall had a huge flatscreen tv with three different gaming consoles on it. There was also a pinball machine. Several couches and comfortable chairs took the space in the room. 

“Why doesn’t Colt hang out with you?” Mikasa asked as Eren disappeared around the corner. 

“He has a girlfriend who hates us. She hates hockey and thinks we’re all playboy assholes,” Eren said as he emerged with a cherry coke, Mikasa’s favorite. He held it out to her.

“Thanks,” she smiled as she took the drink from him and popped the top. Eren disappeared again.  “Is she anyone I know?” 

“Nah. She’s from Liberio,” Eren answered as he came back into the room with a regular coke. “You can sit. I promise the couches are clean.”

Mikasa raised an eyebrow at him before she sat down. “So…”

“This is weird, right?” Eren laughed after a moment.

It was.

For more than one reason. 

Back when they were kids, it would have been easy. Too much time had passed.

“Feel like sharing why you really quit dance?” Eren asked.

Mikasa groaned. 

“Okay, fine. We’ll come back to that. What was the deal with Karl?”

“He has noodle arms,” Mikasa muttered before taking a drink of her coke.

“Noodle arms?” Eren raised an eyebrow as he sat down on the couch opposite her. 

“He couldn’t lift me. Said I weighed more than a regular ballerina and should lose some weight. I suggested he should start lifting. It didn’t go over well,” Mikasa sighed as she put her cherry coke down on the little table closest to her seat on the couch. 

“You don’t need to lose weight.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “You’ve seen me mostly naked. You know I’m all muscle. That isn’t…it’s not very appealing.” 

“Who told you that? No, I want names. Because it is.”

“There’s no one here, Eren. You don’t have to pretend to be attracted to me. I know how I look.”

“I’m not pretending. You’re hot. I know at least three people who would kill to have their head between your legs to be smashed like a watermelon, including me. I also know for a fact I could lift you. So you’re right. Karl has noodle arms and should start weight lifting. And fuck anyone who has never made you feel bad about how you look.”

Oh.

This was not how Mikasa saw this going.

He was attracted to her?

That may have been the nicest thing he ever said to her. 

“Are you going to be nice to me now?” Mikasa asked.

“No,” he scoffed. “That would make things boring. Besides, I’m still bad for you.”

Mikasa shook her head. “So you’re an ass because you care?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes at him, much like how Levi did. Eren must have thought the same because he did a double take.

“You don’t scare me,” Mikasa shrugged. “So since I shared something, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m an open book, what do you want to know?” 

Mikasa thought for a moment. What she really wanted to know is if he remembered his childhood best friend, if he remembered anything about her. But she also didn’t want to know that those years weren’t important to him. It was silly. They were just kids but still it had meant something to her. He had been her first real friend, her first kiss, her first heartbreak. 

So after a moment of consideration of what to ask him, Mikasa finally said: “what did you turn the giant empty space in the back of your apartment into?” 

“That’s your question?” Eren frowned, like he’d been expecting something else.

“I’m curious,” she shrugged before she picked her drink up again and took a sip.

“A weight room. I asked Historia and paid extra for there to be a sauna and ice bath back there. What’s yours?” 

“A library.”

“A library?” 

“Yes, what’s wrong with a library? I also use it to do arts and crafts in.”

“Huh.”

“What did you expect me to have?” Mikasa asked as she sat her drink back down.

“I don’t know. A weight room too. What did you think mine was going to be?” Eren took a drink.

“A sex dungeon,” Mikasa said monotone.

Eren choked on his drink. 

Mikasa started laughing. 

“A sex dungeon?” He repeated.

“It’s a thing.”

“I’m aware it’s a thing. I’m more interested in why you think I have one and why you even know about them.” 

“I read romance novels,” she shrugged. “And you have women over here all the time. I’m trying to understand the appeal.”

“I call you hot. You try to understand my appeal,” Eren shook his head. “No, it’s not a sex dungeon.”

“You’re right, you’re probably rather vanilla,” Mikasa laughed.

Eren shook his head at her before he started laughing.

Normally, Mikasa wasn’t like this. She could be blunt but the teasing, the flirting. She wasn’t always the best at it. Most people didn’t understand she was interested in them. She’d never been good at it. With Eren, everything felt natural. Maybe that’s why his shitty behavior got to her. She knew they could be good friends, best friends in fact. If only he would let her in, maybe then, he would see it too. 

Unfortunately, that also involved Mikasa letting him into her life. That wasn’t something she was good at. 

“How good are you at video games?” Eren asked, changing the subject. 

“I’m alright,” Mikasa shrugged. 

“Want to play something?” 

“Sure,” she grinned. 

Eren stood up and walked over to the entertainment center and began to list off games.

——————-

If someone had told Eren that he would be knocking on Mikasa’s door days after losing to her every single round of Mortal Kombat, he would have called you a liar.

“ACKERMAN! Let’s go!” He called as he knocked again. 

Since she was already going to the game, there was no reason for them to drive separately. Besides, if he admitted it, he liked spending time with her. He only hoped she felt the same.

A few moments later, Mikasa came out of the apartment, ready for the game. He noted her Scout hoodie that had ACKERMAN written on the back along with the number nine. It must have been from when Levi had played. 

They walked in comfortable silence to his car. Then he cued up his playlist before driving to the arena. As they both went their separate ways, Mikasa gave Eren a small wave with a smile. 

It tugged on his heart a little bit. 

He was dying to know if she remembered him. But he didn’t look like an idiot. So he settled for this weird little….whatever this was. There was a part of him that knew she was far too good for him. Once this PR relationship ended, they would go their separate ways. It was just the nature of these things. Besides, sooner or later, she’d get a new job, they wouldn’t see each other. She’d marry some other man and forget all about him. It was just a fact. He needed to remember that none of this was real. She didn’t actually want him. 

————-

“THAT’S A BULLSHIT CALL!” Hange yelled in the box seats. Tonight, Levi’s box had a lively bunch in it.

Hange, Sasha, Mikasa, and Zeke were all in there. Zeke was in disguise as he had a home game tomorrow and wasn’t supposed to be out. 

“Any game my brother has where I’m not playing, I’m going to. I always have. Thankfully, now I can just duck in here and not have to worry about running into our dad,” Zeke had told her  when he had walked in. He wore a mask, sunglasses, and his hood up. Levi had made sure they wouldn’t be looking into the box. Mikasa was beginning to think that Zeke and Levi might not be the rivals they tried to claim they were. 

Hange was always passionate but watching hockey, they were downright scary. 

“He’s not going to be able to skate. Daz is not going to be able to continue to play,” Sasha noted. 

“He’s going to have to sub Eren in. Why is Michigan so violent tonight?” Zeke asked.

“I think they want to try and spark Jean into a fight. Will Eren be able to keep his cool?” Sasha turned to Mikasa.

“Why are you asking me?” Mikasa replied.

“Because you’re his girlfriend,” Sasha grinned.

Everyone in this box knew the truth. 

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “He should. If he wants to play, he could keep his cool. As well as he can.” 

“SUBBING IN: NUMBER THIRTEEN, EREN JAEGER!” Shadis announced. The crowd went wild. 

Eren skated onto the ice. 

“Don’t fuck this up,” Mikasa muttered under her breath.

The game immediately changed.

It became the team that was completely in sync. 

Armin was doing well in the goal. Michigan was doing what most did to the goalie. They underestimated Armin due to his size but Armin was smart. He could anticipate moves, it was his brain that made him such a good goalie. Tonight was no exception. Armin blocked every shot. 

Before, it had been a game of defense. 

Now with Eren on ice, it was an attack. 

“Come on! Break it out of there!” Hange yelled. 

Defense of the other team was paying far too much attention to Falco. They were too busy watching the rookie to notice that Eren was right there.

They passed the puck from one teammate to another.

Then Eren snuck in there.

He was fast.

Almost as fast as Levi. 

Eren had the puck. 

“GO! GO!” Hange screamed.

“DON’T FUCK THIS UP!” Zeke screamed.

Sasha and Mikasa clutched their hands together as they watched Eren head down the ice. 

Eren fake left. The goalie followed. 

Eren shot to the right back corner.

“GOAL!” 

Mikasa and Sasha screamed as they jumped up and down. 

“FUCK YEAH!” Zeke screamed.

The Scouts all skated to Eren as he skated around the rink. When Eren got right in front of the box, he stopped for a moment. Mikasa locked eyes with him. Eren winked before he skated off.

Mikasa felt her cheeks warm.

It was all an act.

All an act.

—-------------

NOW TRENDING:

#SCOUTSBACKONTOP

#JAEGERDYNASTY

#ACKERMANJAEGERSUPREMACY 

#BESTCOACHACKERMAN

#LEVIACKERMANLEGACY

#GOALJAEGER

—---------------

Niccolo had a bar that was known for good food. 

Nights like tonight called for the entire team to celebrate together. Zeke wasn’t supposed to be here so he had slipped out from the game as soon as it ended. His house was not an option for everyone to fit into. So they went to Niccolo’s.

Mikasa had been there several times with Sasha so she was pretty comfortable in the place even though she didn’t know most of the team. It was also not a place anyone dressed  fancy for, which she had been thankful for when she had heard they were all going out. 

Falco had found her, still in his jersey. “I’m the rookie so Eren said to give you these,” he had said, handing her Eren’s car keys. “We’re going out to dinner.”  Mikasa had figured they’d end up going somewhere after the game. 

So she had waited for him in the car when she got a text from Sasha saying they were going to Niccolo’s and that Sasha would meet them there.

Eren showed up later than everyone else.

“Interviews,” Eren sighed as he climbed into the car and drove them to Niccolo’s.

Niccolo’s was full. 

“Come on,” Eren said, intertwining her hand with his. 

Oh right.

They were in public. 

Only the starting line up knew that they were a PR relationship, everyone else thought it was real. 

“We saved you a seat!” Armin called from the large booth in the back. 

Armin, Annie, Sasha, Jean, Connie, and Falco were waiting for them. Eren kept a hold of her hand as they walked through the tables. 

“Gabi is on her way,” Falco said just as Mikasa and Eren reached the table. 

Mikasa slid in next to Annie.

“Annie, Mikasa. Mikasa, Annie,” Eren introduced them. “I know you technically met at Zeke’s.”

“Right, the kickboxer,” Mikasa nodded.

“Coach. I don’t compete anymore,” Annie added before she took a sip of her drink. 

Eren let go of her hand and threw his arm around her shoulder. 

Mikasa looked down at his hand for a moment before turning her attention back to Annie. 

“I should have you teach me then,” Mikasa mentioned.

“I don’t think you need my help. I saw what you did to that guy on the ice. Good on you making him kiss the ice,” Annie gave her a small smile.

Mikasa’s cheeks reddened.

“What did you do?” Eren asked.

“Wait, are we talking about that asshole in high school?” Sasha asked across the table.

Mikasa nodded.

“That was epic,” Connie answered.

“What happened?” Armin asked.

“Fucking Floch had to run his mouth. We had a no contact boys vs girls game every year. Senior year, he was harassing Anka. She kept telling him to leave her alone. He wouldn’t. He kept trying to body check her. Mikasa had enough, flipped on over so he landed on his stomach. Then she held his head down on the ice until coaches got involved,” Jean explained.

“It’s on youtube,” Annie added. 

“Wait, Floch as in Warrior’s Floch?” Eren asked.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Mikasa confirmed. 

“I hate that guy,” Falco muttered. 

“I went to college with him. He’s…something,” Eren replied. “You want a drink?” he asked Mikasa.

“Sure,” Mikasa answered. 

“Be right back,” Eren slid out of the seat and headed to the bar.

“So that’s interesting,” Annie nodded to Eren. 

“It’s….new,” Mikasa looked down. 

“For never having a real relationship, he’s doing well right now,” Jean noted.

“Speaking of relationships…where’s your girlfriend?” Sasha asked him. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jean muttered.

“As long as you don’t start ditching us like Colt, we’ll all be fine,” Connie teased. 

“Yeah, is your brother ditching us?” Armin asked Falco.

“As always,” Falco rolled his eyes.

Strangely, Mikasa felt at ease with everyone at this table. Maybe it was because they knew the truth or because she had known Sasha, Jean, and Connie for such a long time. But she didn’t feel uncomfortable as Eren got their drinks.

A wet haired Gabi showed up at the table before Eren did. She slid into the booth next to Falco. 

“Win?” Falco asked her.

Gabi shook her head. “No contact only seems to apply to the Warriors and not the opposing team. Fuck New York.”

“What is New York doing this season?” Falco asked.

“I don’t know. But Reiner, Zeke, Bertolt, and Udo are going to have a time tomorrow,” Gabi sighed. 

“Oh. That’s right. You’re Reiner’s cousin,” Mikasa thought out loud.

Gabi stared at her for a moment. “Yeah. Hi. I don’t think we’ve actually talked.”

“Because she’s terrified to speak to you,” Falco blurted out.

“Me? Why?” Mikasa asked.

“Oh. Well. I kind of spent my entire high school years trying to beat your record and didn’t. You were a standard for me. So talking to you…pretty intimidating,” Gabi shrugged.

As much as she wished it was the first time Mikasa had heard that, it wasn’t. 

“Well, we’ll be coaching together. So hopefully you’re not intimidated now. I haven’t played since high school so I guarantee you’re better at hockey than me. I’m nervous to return, even for this camp,”  Mikasa confessed. 

“Really?” 

Mikasa nodded. “I asked if you have any spare time if you wanted to reteach me the basic but–”

“I live in Shiganshina. I commute to Liberio. I do have days off so if you do want to skate, we can,” Gabi’s face lit up. 

“Really? I don’t want to bother you.”

“Trying to beat your record is what got me scouted right out of high school. I can spend time helping you remember. I doubt you’re that rusty.”

The conversation moved on as Mikasa saw a woman walk up to Eren. She was pretty, had beautiful long, black hair. He smiled at her. They talked happily.

They must have known one another but she was no one who Mikasa knew. Then again, Mikasa didn’t know everyone involved with the Scouts.

The woman ordered something from the bartender before leaning in closer to Eren. He laughed at something she said. Then the woman was running her hand down Eren’s arm. 

Eren leaned over, whispered something into the woman’s ear before running his finger down the side of the woman’s face. 

So that was Eren’s type. 

The woman leaned closer to him, her lips ghosting over his ear. 

Something in Mikasa’s stomach made her feel sick. She had no claim on Eren, not really. She knew what he was like when she got into it. Hell, she couldn’t even blame the woman as Mikasa and Eren’s relationship had yet to be more than a few pictures. 

And he was smiling with her. 

He was happy with her. 

Mikasa looked down. She felt a pair of eyes on her. She looked across the table to see Gabi looking at her, studying her. Mikasa looked away. The feeling was still there so Mikasa turned to her side to see Annie and Sasha watching her. 

It was as if they all had some sort of sixth sense that she was in trouble. 

Eren came over to the booth and sat a drink in front of Mikasa.  “I got you an amaretto and Coke since you like Cherry Coke.” 

Mikasa smiled at him but it didn’t fully reach his eyes. 

“And I got a coke for myself because I’m driving,” he told Jean who was glaring at him. 

Jean grabbed Eren’s drink and took a sip from it. He nodded in agreement before he sat it back down. 

Eren rolled his eyes. 

“Oh fuck,” Connie muttered as he ducked down. 

“What?” Sasha asked.

“Mina is here,” Connie groaned. 

“Who’s Mina?” Gabi asked. 

“She’s obsessed with our team.”

“So she’s a puck bunny?” 

“Basically.” Connie slid down further in the chair. 

Mina was staring at Eren from across the bar. She waved at him before seductively sucking on her straw. 

Mikasa looked away. 

“Is that why you were gone for so long?” Jean accused.

“No! What the fuck, Jean?” Eren asked.

“I just know your reputation.”

“Is that what’s this about?”

“It’s about I’ve known Mikasa a lot longer than you have! I’m not going to have you make a fool of her!” 

“So this is all about protecting Mikasa?”

“Of course it is!”

Mikasa stood up. “I don’t need protecting”

Jean and Eren both looked at her. 

“I’m going home,” she stated.

“I’ll drive you,” Eren offered as he stepped aside to let her out.

“No need,” Mikasa said.

“But you didn’t drive,” Eren pointed out.

“I’ll take her,” Gabi said as she stood. “Come on, Falco.” 

“Thank you,” Mikasa muttered as she followed Gabi and Falco out.

—----------------

Getting smacked by a magazine was not how Eren expected to wake up the following morning.

There was a very angry Historia standing over him. 

“Ow!” Eren said as he rubbed his head.

“What did you do?” she asked as she stood over him. 

“Nothing! I didn’t take anyone home! I didn’t drink! I was perfect!” He replied as he threw his hands up. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“Because you hurt her!” 

“How? I haven’t done anything!” Eren defended himself. 

“Then why is she backing out of the game next?” Historia crossed her arms across her chest. “Because I seriously doubt it's to help Kuchel get groceries for Thanksgiving.” 

“I don’t know! How am I supposed to know? She got all weird at the bar yesterday. I haven’t seen or talked to her since!”

Historia stared at him for a moment, studying him. “You did something. I know you did and when I find out, it won’t be me as PR coming for you. It’ll be me as Mikasa’s best friend.”

“I thought Sasha was her best friend.”

“You can have more than one best friend!” Historia huffed at him. She looked around his room, for what? Eren didn’t know but he had a feeling it was going to lead to violence so he pulled the blankets closer.

“Holy shit,” Historia remarked as she studied one of the pictures on his bedroom wall. “Is that…?” She stepped towards it. 

Keeping the blanket wrapped around his waist, Eren stood. “Out,” he ordered. 

“That’s Mikasa,” Historia remarked. “Mikasa is on your bedroom wall. Holy shit. Is this why you never have sex with women in here? Always the guest room? Because Mikasa is on your wall?” 

“Get out,” Eren ordered again as he pointed to the door. 

“I’ll go. On one condition, how old are you in that picture?” 

Eren looked over at it. He tried not to look at it. They were nine. It was before he moved. Mikasa had braided him a flower crown and he wore it. Even though he knew his other friends would tease him about it. He didn’t care. His mom had taken a photo of the two of them.  Once Eren moved, he cried about leaving Mikasa. So his mom printed the photo out and put it in frame above his bed. That was it always stayed. His mom had helped decorate his apartment once he moved in. She had put the photo in her with all of the others from his childhood. There were pictures of him with Armin, Reiner, Bertolt,  Annie, and Zeke from when he had moved to Liberio. It wasn’t like the photo of him and Mikasa was alone or over his bed anymore. It was just here on the wall of his childhood memories. 

He hadn’t purposely kept the women he hooked up with out of this room. It was just easier to make sure nothing of value got stolen or embracing pictures ending up on the internet.

“I see,” Historia said after a moment, pulling Eren from his thoughts.

“Don’t tell her,” Eren pleaded, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

“What did you do last night? Is it something I need to worry about?” 

Eren sat back down on his bed, keeping the blanket intacted. “I don’t know. I think it’s because Mina was talking to me. She didn’t even give me time to explain.”

“Do you blame her?” 

“No. I don’t.” 

Eren didn’t blame her at all. 

“I didn’t just want her to do this fake relationship just for you, you know,” Historia confessed. “Mikasa has been in a bad place but she loves helping people. She can’t help but help people. I thought maybe it would get her out, socialize. You two would be great friends, I thought. You looked like you were back then.”

“She doesn’t remember,” Eren muttered as he looked down at his hands. “It was so long ago. It doesn’t matter.” 

“I think it does. To you. I think it matters to you.”

“I’ll make sure there are no misunderstandings in the future, okay?” Eren finally looked up at Historia, meeting her eyes.

Historia studied him. “I won’t tell her.” Then she nodded before leaving Eren considering where his thoughts and feelings truly were.

———————

Thanksgiving was not what Mikasa was expecting.

Mostly because Kenny announced he and Kuchel were going on a cruise in two days. All expenses were apparently paid by Uri. Kuchel had managed to get some time off, they were leaving and wouldn’t be back until Christmas.

“I feel sorry for whoever gets stuck on that cruise with you three,” Levi had scoffed. 

The rest had been pretty standard. 

Mikasa did feel a little strange about the whole situation with Eren, embarrassed even. It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong. It was just listening to him and Jean fight. She just didn’t want to be involved, didn’t want someone saying what she should do. Mostly because Mikasa didn’t know what she should do. 

The good thing was that Mikasa and Gabi had exchanged numbers. Gabi had some spare time on Friday, the Scouts had practice in the afternoon but once it was over, they planned to get some time on the ice. 

Gabi stood in the goal while Mikasa took shots at it. 

“See! I told you! You haven’t forgotten a thing!” Gabi cheered as Mikasa got another puck past her. 

“That's because you’re a really bad goalie,” Mikasa laughed. 

“Okay, fair point. But you are very fast. What is it with Ackermans and being good at hockey?” 

Mikasa laughed. “It’s only Levi and me.”

“So your dad or mom didn’t play?” 

Mikasa shook her head. “My dad was an architect. He actually designed the arena.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My mom wanted me to dance in the New York Ballet. Still trying to understand that dream of hers. She hated me playing hockey. She would always tell me how she dreamed of bringing her daughter flowers on every opening night. I wanted to play hockey like Levi. So we compromised. I played hockey and I'd dance. She made me try finger skating, but it didn't stick.”

“But you quit hockey for dance?” 

Mikasa sighed. “Yeah. I..uhh…every time I’d step onto the ice, I’d think about how my mom and dad had been coming to see me play. That's how they were killed. If I hadn’t been playing hockey, they wouldn’t have died. I was a good enough dancer to get into a few private universities so that’s what I did. I thought I could at least live her dream for me.” 

“I’m guessing that didn’t work out then.”

Mikasa scoffed, “no. It didn’t. I ended up hating it. There was too much hate, body shaming, and sexual harassment. Sorry. I don’t mean to just dump this on you….”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s actually…my life is sort of similar. I ran away from my parents. My aunt Karina took me in. I’m sure you’ll hear the story if you stick around the Scouts. But long story short, my parents only had me because they wanted a child who would make a lot of money and they could live off of that said. I ran away when I was nine. Went to Reiner’s house, didn’t go back home,” Gabi shrugged. “So you’re not the only one who had family baggage. It’s sort of nice that you do. Not like that…it’s just…I don’t know. I always sort of saw you as this record I wanted to beat. It’s nice that you’re actually a person.” 

“Do…do you want to go get coffee with me?” Mikasa asked.

“Yeah. We should. Besides, I want to know more about this Eren situation.” 

Mikasa groaned as she skated towards the exit to the Guest Team’s locker room.

—----------------------

Thanksgiving for Eren had been extremely awkward.

First, there was his grandparents.

They never liked Carla or Eren. They didn’t think that Grisha should have divorced Dina. In fact, they spent most of the time completely ignoring both Carla and Eren. 

“This turkey is dry. Your mother’s turkey was never this dry,” Grisha’s mother told Zeke. 

Carla set her jaw, biting her tongue. There was no point fighting with them.

Eren grabbed the wine bottle and filled his mom’s glass.

Carla met his eyes in thanks. 

Thankfully, Grisha didn’t make comments about Eren’s games or dating. 

After a grueling practice the following Friday, Eren passed Mikasa in the parking lot. He was surprised to see her chatting with Gabi, walking in together.

He felt horrible.

He hadn’t even bothered texting her since she left the bar. She clearly wanted, needed space from him. With Historia knowing that he remembered, he kept Mikasa’s photo and all the confusing feelings there, Eren didn’t want to talk to her either.

 So somehow, he found himself at his parent’s house after practice. Grisha was gone. He was doing guest commentary on some college hockey game so it was just Carla there.

As soon as he pulled into the gated community and up to the monster house his parents owned, his mom was waiting at the front door. 

“I saw you on the cameras,” she smiled weakly at him. “Come in and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Eren nodded, following his mom inside. 

While Carla had been hard on Eren, it was in a more loving way. She kept in line, without her, he would have spiraled even more out of control. 

“Why do Dad’s parents hate us so much?” Eren asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.

Carla sighed as she put the tea kettle on. 

Eren didn’t know anyone else who still used an old tea kettle on the stove but his mom did. 

“Dina Fritz was a perfect bride for your dad. She was known in the upper circles of the Liberio High Society. They were a good match. They fell in love, they married, and had a child. It was meant to be perfect. Then…they fell out of love. It was what was best for Zeke. A child seeing his parents fighting all the time, it was not good for him. So they divorce which was bad enough. Then he met me, a lowly waitress and bartender from Shiganshina.”

“Why did that matter?” 

“Because your grandparents care about image. Dina was a cousin to Uri and Rod Reiss who are both obscenely wealthy. I was no one but that didn’t matter to your father, it doesn’t matter to me. All that mattered is we loved each other.”

The tea kettle began whistling. Carla filled two cups up with tea. 

“So they hate you over something that happened nearly thirty years ago?” Eren raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Did you know before I started dating your dad seriously I met Zeke and Dina to see if we got along?” Carla put sugar into both cups, then carried them over to the kitchen table.

Eren shook his head.

“We went out to dinner, the four of us. Then we went to a playground with Zeke. I spent the entire time running with Zeke. He’d drag me down the slide, through the monkey bars. I don’t think I ever ran that much in my life. Dina grabbed your dad and told him, “Grisha, if you don’t marry her, I will.” We became best friends after that. There’s not a day that goes by that I don't miss her,” Carla sighed as she lifted the glass up to her mouth. “But that’s not why you came here, is it?”

“I fucked up, Mom,” Eren confessed as he looked down into his cup of tea. 

“What did you do to Mikasa?” 

Eren looked up. “How did–”

“I know how to use the internet, Eren. You can tell me that relationship is fake but from those pictures, I don’t think it is. At least your feelings for her are not. I may be old but I’m not stupid.” 

Eren rolled his eyes, “you’re not even that old, Mom. This woman at the bar was flirting with me. I..I didn’t stop her. Then I ended up arguing in front of Mikasa with Jean about it. I could tell she was hurt when I got back to the table but…I don’t know. It feels nice to be wanted. Not chained to someone who couldn’t care less about me.” 

“You know Mikasa cares about you. She always has.”

“She doesn’t even remember me. She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t want me,” Eren laid his head onto the table. 

“Oh my sweet boy,” Carla sighed. “For someone so smart, you can be rather dumb. You should really look at those photos of you and her going around the internet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eren sat as he raised his head.

“It means you were already wanted. You were just too busy to see it. Now drink your tea,” Carla commanded.

—--------------------------------

The next game for the Scouts, Mikasa went. Historia had told Mikasa she could quit if she wanted to but Mikasa was true to her word. She would see this out for the rest of the season. Then she would move on. Besides, she didn’t have to do much. 

Tonight, there would be a good amount of photographers in the parking lot. Once the game was over and post game interviews, Eren and Mikasa would walk out together. 

Simple. 

Easy.

It was just Mikasa in the box tonight. Sasha had an influencer event and Hange had some sort of lecture they had to attend. Of course Zeke had a game at the same time. 

The box felt rather empty as Mikasa lingered there. 

Though she didn’t need to dress up, Mikasa had. She wore a black leather skirt with tights, a new Scouts jacket, a cute black tank top, and black leather knee high boots. She felt cute. Historia had sent a squealing gif when Mikasa had sent her a picture of her outfit. 

She spent most of the game mindlessly scrolling through her phone. The Scouts had already scored twice, one from Falco and one from Jean. 

Before she knew it, the game was over. Final score: 2-0.

She made her way down to the hallway that led to the locker rooms. 

“Hey Mikasa!” Falco called to her.

“Hi,” Mikasa waved. 

“How’s training with Gabi going?” he grinned.

“Really well,” Mikasa smiled. 

“Good. She needs more friends besides her teammates. Let me know if you want to come over. I know you don’t like to drive and we’re only a few blocks over. And if you wanted to go with me to any of her games, I know she’d really appreciate it,” Falco smiled again. “I’m gonna go home and see if I can catch her away game. Have a good night!” 

“You too. And great goal!” Mikasa called as he walked away.

She hadn’t expected to find a kindred soul in Gabi but she did. Though neither went into detail about their parents, they both understood each other. Mikasa hadn’t told Gabi about punching Gross yet. It just wasn’t something she was comfortable talking about. Though they did discuss Eren. She didn’t tell Gabi she had known him before. Just that she had felt like an idiot while he was flirting with another girl in front of the entire bar. 

“He is an idiot, not you,” Gabi had told her. 

While that was true, it didn’t make Mikasa feel any better.

“You coming out tonight?” Jean asked, interrupting her thoughts. 

“Oh. I don’t know. I guess it’ll depend on Eren,” Mikasa sighed. 

Jean frowned, “you can always just come out with Pieck, Connie, and me, you know. Sasha is going to try and meet up later.”

“I know. I just…I’m dating Eren, I go where he goes.” 

Jean set his jaw. “I know. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you last time. I hope that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with us. I’ve missed hanging out with you, you know. I mean you didn’t stop hanging out with me in high school when I confessed my feelings. Even though you did run away minutes after I told you.” 

Mikasa laughed, “I forgot about that. We were what? Fifteen?”

“Something like that.  I don’t think I’ve ever had a girl run away from me,” Jean laughed.

“I didn’t know what else to do! We were friends and I didn’t want our little group to break up because I didn’t return your feelings,” Mikasa confessed.

“Probably for the best. Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t have feelings for you due to who would come along later. Like something in me recognized the person who would come later. Same long dark black hair.”

“She’s the one, isn’t she?” 

Jean nodded, “just don’t say anything around the rest of the team. You know. So do Connie and Sasha. I just don’t want to scare Pieck off. It’s new but when you know, you know.” 

Mikasa smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

“Am I interrupting something?” Eren cleared his throat as he walked up. 

Mikasa removed her hand.

The nerve of this man. 

“And if you were?” Mikasa answered. 

Eren shrugged. 

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.” 

“Yeah, let’s,” Eren said as he grabbed her hand, pulling her along. 

Mikasa looked back over her shoulder to see Jean shaking his head. 

“If we’re together, maybe you shouldn’t flirt with my teammates,” Eren hissed.

“And you shouldn’t flirt with puck bunnies at the bar,” Mikasa reminded him, squeezing his hand hard. She wanted to ball her hand up into a fist but it was hard to do while holding his hand. She didn’t dare drop it. 

But where did Eren get off being mad at her for talking with Jean, her old friend, when he could flirt with someone in front of the entire bar? 

She shoved those thoughts away as they came upon the door to the outside. 

“You ready for this?” Eren asked her as he paused at the door.

“I guess we’ll both see,” Mikasa retorted.

Eren pushed the door open.

Immediately the flashbulbs went off. 

Who the hell did Historia call? Every damn photographer she knew in the state? Because that’s what it seemed like. They all crowded around, yelling questions.

“MIKASA, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

“EREN, HOW HAS THIS AFFECTED YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH  YOUR COACH?” 

“IS THIS RELATIONSHIP SERIOUS?”

“WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR THE HOLIDAYS?”

Mikasa kept her head down, not looking at anyone. Eren kept her hand in a vice grip, leading her through the crowd. 

This was absolutely out of control. 

Who did these people think they were? 

Eren wasn’t that famous and Mikasa sure as hell wasn’t. This was all Historia. 

This was overkill.

But then again, Eren’s reputation desperately needed something positive. 

Finally, they made it through the reporters and photographers, arriving at the parking lot. Eren walked alongside her until they got to his car. He opened her passenger side door. Mikasa climbed in. 

“I’ll text Jean and see where they’re all going,” Mikasa told him.

Eren set his jaw.

She hadn’t planned on going on but now that she found a weakness in Eren.

Game on.

—------------

What was worse than not drinking was not drinking while Mikasa danced with every other player on the team but Eren. 

She was doing it on purpose. 

He knew it. 

He could see it. 

He also knew it wasn’t just purely payback for that night at the bar. 

No, this was payback for everything he’d done. 

But he also knew that there was some part of her that at least liked him as a friend. Eren had listened to his mom, and looked at the photos. There were a couple shot as they had been walking into the bar. She was smiling at him, laughing. She was really laughing. 

This was why Eren didn’t want her to get close. 

He had known from day one he would mess it up. 

He always messed it up. 

He tried so hard for a reason. 

Years and years of being bullied by both his grandparents and classmates had pushed him to this. The need to be wanted, to be liked, to be the best. 

As he watched Mikasa dance with everyone but him, he wondered what it would be like to be wanted and liked by her. 

“Are you going to do the creepy stare at her thing all night? You’re reminding me of that shitty vampire movie,” Annie scoffed as she sat next to him in the vip lounge, just sipping on whatever fancy ass drink she had. 

“Why are you never supportive of me anymore?” Eren asked her. 

“Because you’re a dumbass,” Annie shrugged. 

“Where is Armin?” 

“Dancing with your girlfriend,” Annie pointed back to the dance floor.

Indeed, Mikasa and Armin were dancing. If you could call jumping up and down while holding hands and screaming the lyrics to a song dancing. Either way, Mikasa was smiling.

“That could be you, if you weren’t an asshole,” Annie reminded him. 

“Thank you so much for that,” Eren rolled his eyes. 

“That’s my job as your friend.” 

Eren rolled his eyes. 

Armin was the first friend Eren had made in Liberio. Annie was the second. They didn’t meet Annie until junior high. She was a year older than them but had been held out of school due to her shitty birth parents. Now, she only recognized the man who had raised as her father. Though Annie spent most of her time hanging out with Bertolt and Reiner, she got tired of watching Eren get his ass beat. So Annie taught him how to fight in exchange for an introduction to Armin. 

Annie was never afraid to call Eren out on his shit. Tonight was not a rare occurrence.

Eren sighed. 

“Have you even apologized?” Annie asked him.

No, he hadn’t apologized. He’d barely talked to her. She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to him either. 

Eren just sighed again and leaned back on the couch in the vip area. He continued to watch Mikasa dance for the rest of the night. She was having fun. Eren wished he could have been having fun with her. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to move.

What was it about her? 

She didn’t give a shit that he was Eren Jaeger. She never had. Beautiful and perfect and everything Eren wasn’t. Everything that Eren would ruin. He always ruined everything. It was just his nature. That day she had been in his apartment, that day in the bar, he knew he was starting to like her. He knew as he watched her every move that he was undeniably attracted to her but it was more than simply wanting her under him. 

Eren wanted Mikasa. 

He wanted her more than just for one night, more than just her body. He wanted her to continue to challenge him, and put him in his place. 

Eren’s stomach dropped.

Shit.

Mikasa was important to him.

She had wormed her way in, right back where she had been all those years ago. Was it possible that  those feelings he had had as a child were coming back, stronger than ever?

—--

After a night full of dancing, Mikasa was exhausted. 

When everyone else started to leave, Mikasa followed suit, getting into Eren’s car. She leaned against the glass of the window. 

It was silent for a moment before Eren finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. 

“Huh?” Mikasa turned to face him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for flirting with Mina and I’m sorry for making you feel bad. I wasn’t taking this relationship seriously like I should have. It wasn’t….I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to feel wanted.”

As much as Mikasa wanted to, she could not fault him for that. It was something she desired as well. 

“And I promise I’ll take things more seriously from now on. You’re the one who is doing me the favor and I promise not to forget that again. If you want to date Jean, I’ll cover for you,” Eren promised.

Mikasa laughed. “I don’t want to date Jean. He asked me out once in high school and I told him I wasn’t interested. Then I ran away because it was too awkward.”

Eren stopped at the light and looked over at her. Then he laughed.  “So we’re good?” 

Mikasa bit her lip, considering. Then she nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Once they arrived at their apartment complex and were in the elevator, Eren turned to Mikasa, holding out his hand.

“Friends?” he asked.

For a moment she looked at his hand, seeing there was ink right under his sleeve. How had she not noticed his tattoos before?  She took his hand and looked him in the eyes.

“Friends,” she agreed.

Eren smiled at her as they shook hands. He let go and faced forward again. 

“We’re both going to regret that, aren’t we?” he teased.

“Probably,” she shrugged. “But it’s probably better if we are. Besides, I could use all the friends I can get right now.” Mikasa bit her lip again.

“Yeah, I could too,” Eren confessed. “By the way, you look good tonight. Not that you don’t look good every night. I just…you’re dressed differently but a good different.”

Mikasa looked over at him. “What are you trying to say? Because it sounds like you’re trying to flirt with me….very badly,” she laughed.

Eren looked over at her before he started laughing himself. “Okay, fine. You look hot, Ackerman. If you were anyone else, I’d say, you should come back to my place. But you’re not and we just became friends. So I’m not going to fuck our tentative friendship up.” 

Mikasa’s blushed. “What do you mean if I’m not anyone else? Because I’m your PR relationship?”

“No and not because you’re Levi’s little sister either.” 

Mikasa gulped. 

Eren took a step closer to her, brushed one of her bangs out of her eyes. 

Was the air in this elevator getting hot? 

She swallowed again as she studied him, trying to figure out how things had gotten this way. 

Well, this night had taken a turn.

The elevator dinged. They had reached their floor. Both of them walked out, to their respective doors.

“Goodnight, Mikasa,” Eren said before disappearing into his apartment.

Mikasa went into her apartment and took a cold shower.

[nuri148]

Six Sentence Sunday: Clarity Ch. 13 preview

The first round of edits is complete! I hope I'll start writing the epilogue tonight. I don't want to space out the last 3 installments too much between them, it'd be the equivalent of those awful tv programmers that insert a long commercial break right before the last 30 seconds of show.

So, without further ado:

The door thumped again, shaking her out of her musings and prompting her to open. Levi was nicely dressed too—wasn’t he always?—, in a smart brown suit, pristine white shirt and a cashmere tan jumper in lieu of a vest which, along with the lack of a tie, attested to the purely informal, non-datey character of the evening ahead.

“Smells good,” he observed upon entering the living room. Mikasa was heating up the broth and had already braised the pork and boiled the eggs and the noodles. She was by no means insecure about her cooking skills, but Levi’s casual praise when he still hadn’t tasted the meal made her all giddy up inside. She could only hope to keep her composure through the whole thing.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Feel like Mikasa with her perfect Ackerman genetics rarely gets sick. So whenever she does get seriously sick Eren goes into panic mode and does everything in his power to make her comfortable and recover faster. He also doesn't gaf whether he catches it himself, in fact inwardly he'll wish that he does catch it so that he can suffer instead of her, because he's a dork like that. This means lots of snuggles, Mikasa tries telling him not to but it's hard to resist being pampered in so much affection.

ITS REMINDING ME OF MY PERFECT GENETICS AU LOL!!

That's like Eren's crown jewel of breeding her lol, he's so smug about it, always telling her that he chose the best girl bc she really is perfect, doesn't even get sick. But u know he's so overdramatic about it, like he's running her hot baths, making her home made chicken noodle soup, he skips from work even though he's literaly lab director, takes a week off, makes Armin deal with it. Mikasa will never admit it but during those tiems she LOVES being the centre of his attention and just doted on all week. She actually tries to get sick sometimes lol, just so she can have uninterrupted Eren time.

[funny55572]

I̷'m̷ 🚫f̷a̷t̷, 𝙸'𝚖 𝐅𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 ✅

🅕🅞🅛🅛🅞🅦 ⓜⓔ 🙋

Does Anyone want noodles

👁👄👁

\__🍜’\__/

(´༎ຶ۝༎ຶ) Eren

(ㅍ＿ㅍ ) Mikasa

눈‸눈 Levi

°˖✧∩(◎ヮ◎∩)✧˖° Hanji

(ง •̀ゝ•́)ง Annie

(๑╹ڡ╹๑) Sasha

ლ(ಠ_ಠლ) Jean

(‧ิω‧ิ＊) Armin