#fic: Jäger
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jumexju · 1 month ago
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eren x reader fic where eren isnt portrayed as a feral dog who's mad possessive for not reason and the reader isnt a powerless frail thing to be protected
when will the snk fandom start making good fics again... 😞😞
sigh
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lynxfrost13 · 8 days ago
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HELLO LYNX! 2, 22, 25 for star signalis!! (character ask)
HI STAR!!!! ⭐️
2. Favorite canon thing about this character?
I’m obsessed with their group hierarchy I think it’s really interesting and fun to think about, especially with the fun addition of them being freaks like that and developing physical punishments a lot of them time. It makes me wonder how the dynamics in a star cadre would affect the rest of a facility (bc we know they affect promotions, but what abt friendships, etc!)
22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?
I like when they get to show off both sides of their personality, that more laidback side with replikas but then watching them be so cold during interrogations and such… I eat that shit up it’s just such a great reminder of their purpose as units. They’re built to be the friendly chill cop if need be but they’re still very much not your friend!! Love it!
For what I don’t like hmm… I guess again a common pattern with me but I love that they can be goofier/more chill, I just don’t like it when that’s exaggerated! I’m sure I could find something more specific but I haven’t read enough star fics to see more 😭
25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?
I will be honest!! At first they were probably one of my least favorite replikas design wise (it took some time but their fuckass haircuts grew on me <3333 ). Apart from aesthetics I guess I didn’t think too much of them? Not in a bad way but they were just guys that were there!! Now I love them though, they’re not not part of my holy trinity (I’m so sorry. I do have favorites and they’re Ariane, Elster, and Isita forgive me) but I think stars are so charming and fun to play with!! And once I met the one with her eule in the mines well. Yeah 😭💕
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soviet-sin-corner · 1 year ago
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"I'll eat you whole." - Klaus
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ichijager13 · 2 years ago
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Them discovering you are pregnant
Parings: Reiner x Reader, Seig x reader and Porco x reader.
NO SPOILERS
Tags: Established relation ships and marriage for Seig, marriage proposal, unplanned pregnancy, domestic fluff and a little bit of angst.
AOT boys reacting to you being pregnant.
A/N: this me still having baby fever and your reactions and reblogs of A part of you and I encouraged me to write more, please bare with me and thank you so very much for your support. <3 <3
Porco
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“Darling I’m home”. He listened carefully but nothing. He stepped out of his shoes and headed to the living room. He found you wrapped in a blanket and snuggled on the couch. He picked up the book that fell from your hand before caressing your face softly.
You slowly blinked trying to clear your view and chase away sleep. “Hi dear, you’re home”. He littered gentle kisses on your forehead and cheeks. “I feel like I slept for days”. you mumbled rubbing your sleepy eyes. “Don’t you think you’ve been sleeping a lot lately?” “Now that you mentioned it, yes I have”. You sat resting your head on your shoulder. “Maybe summer fatigue”. “Or maybe you’re pregnant”. “Don’t be silly, Porco”. You whispered nuzzling his neck. “I’m on pills, remember?” your hand was rubbing his back when you suddenly remembered. “Where’s my phone? Give me my phone”. you panicked. Confused your lover pointed at the device set on the coffee table. You snatch it and start mumbling unintelligible words. He glanced at the screen of your phone before asking. “What’s that?” “An app that tracks my period, I’m late. 2 weeks and a half late”. You continued scrolling checking the history of your pill-taking and sexual activities. You squeeze your eyes shut when you find it. “I haven’t taken my pills twice since last May and we didn’t use protection both times”. You muttered. Porco’s eyes widened at the realization. “Could it be?” you pressed your palms against your nape. “It’s late for seeing a physician. I’ll go get you a test”. He spoke standing up. “Wait Porco, please wait”. You held onto the hem of his polo. He sat back next to you and you buried your face in his neck. “Don’t you think we should talk this out first?" You spoke stumbling over your words minutes later. His hand patted your head gently before he lets out. “Let’s talk then”. You sit straight crossing your legs and facing him. Even after four years together, you still love him with the same passion and still find him attractive. He scoots closer and takes your small hands in his. “Don’t worry darling, everything will turn out fine”. You look up at him, eyes glistening. “Whatever decision we will reach I will never give up on you, alright?” You nod. “Do you want to keep it? In case you’re pregnant”. “Do we have a choice?” Your voice quivers. “I believe we do”. “Do you want it?” you spoke softly “I have a stable job; we have our own car and apartment and we love each other”. He paused. “Plus we will finish repaying the debts of the house and the car this month”. He added. “But we have no savings”. A single tear traveled down your cheek. “And I just started this job”. You sniffed trying not to lose your grip. “If you believe you are not ready, we can opt for adoption or we can…”. You squeezed your eyes shut at the thought of getting an abortion. “We don’t have to decide right away. Let me first get pregnancy tests and we’ll continue discussing after we get the results, alright darling?” he pecks your lips before going out.
Reiner
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“Should I wait outside?” He asked, nervous, his hands were buried in your hair, gently caressing it.
“Is it alright?” You looked up at him just as nervous.
“I’ll be on the other side of the door. Just call me when it’s over”. He pecked your temple.
You wrapped your fingers around his wrist. “Kiss me”. you pouted. Smiling he imprisoned your lips between his before closing the bathroom behind him.
You took a deep breath staring at the pregnancy test. You and Reiner have been living together for over 6 years. “You can do it”. You whispered to yourself.
Noticing you haven’t got your period this month you decided to talk to him about it this morning.
“Could it be?” He asked fully awake.
“I hope so”. You mumbled and he immediately wore his coat on top of his pajama and went to the drugstore.
A while later he came back. “I bought three, just in case”. So, here you are sitting on the edge of your bathtub waiting for the result. You tried the three at once.
“Come on, come on, please be positive, please”. You whispered eyes shut. “Reiner”. You called for him.
He opened the door and rushed inside. “So?”
“I can’t see, please tell me what are the results”. You whined.
He took the tests from you, and his eyes moved from the blue lines to the guide and then to you. he checked multiple times before hoping you in his arms and kissing you with devouring passion. He pressed you against the wall and you wrapped your legs around his waist kissing him back.
“Does this mean…”. You panted.
“Yes, yes”. he breathed before devouring your lips. You tightened your grip around him. “Thank you, my dearest”. Your noses touched both smiling. Tears of joy made their way down your face as Reiner stumbled over his words trying to express how happy he feels. He put you down and brushed away your tears. “I think we should book an appointment”. You bobbed your head before pulling him closer for another breathtaking kiss. “I’ll go with you. I want to see my baby”. A short and breathy laugh escaped from your lips.
“We’re going to have a baby”. You whispered in disbelief.
“It feels unreal, right?” You nodded once again wearing your brightest and prettiest smile. “And how about we get married?”
Your eyes went round, it took you a while to fully comprehend what he just said. “Yes, yes, yes, yes”. you kept repeating as he held you in his arms.
Seig
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The sound of the door cracking open, the keys tossed on the table near the entrance, footsteps rushing towards the kitchen, and a low voice humming Strauss’ emperor waltz announced the arrival of your husband. “Smell’s delicious, what’s on the menu”. You heard him ask as soon as he got into the kitchen. “Onion soup and vegetable quiche”. You replied feeling his presence behind you. he pressed his lips to your temple before towering over you with his arms. “How was your day?” He inquired. “A quiet one. I finished correcting freshmen’s exam sheets this afternoon”. You tried your best to hide your excitement and sound normal. “How about yours, dear?” “Had to attend few meetings, discuss some strategies with Captain Macgarth and fill in some rapports”. He tilted his head, eyebrows knitted. “Is there something you want to tell me?”. He asked making your whole face lit up at the thought of how well he knows you. You hummed in response as you continued to chop some parsley to decorate the soup. “Would you please make some salad?” He immediately took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. “Thank you my dearest, I have already prepared the croutons and cut the chicken breasts”. He nodded washing two heads of Romanian lettuce. “And what are the big news you are keeping for yourself”. He asked eyes squinted in concentration as he made the dressing. You set the soup bowls on the table after adding cream and the parsley you chopped minutes ago. “We are expecting a baby”. You spoke burying your face in his back and looping your arms around him. “We’re expecting what?” He mused while combining the ingredients. “A baby, we are expecting a baby”. You slightly parted, making your voice clear. He interrupted his movements and stood still. “A baby”. He whispered still turning his back to you. “A baby? You’re pregnant?” His voice was filled with happiness. “Yes, and yes”. you beamed sinking in his embrace. You felt his large hands cupping your face before your lips met. “I can’t wait to tell my grandparents”. He whispered against your turned-up lips before kissing you again.
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lynxfrost13 · 3 months ago
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Read that Phasenraum fic and got damn yall weren’t lying it’s very delicious
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goldammerchen · 6 months ago
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤
Thank you anon! Last time I answered one of these was in August, before hetahorrorweek in October 😈 (I replied Inevitable, Harvest, Feliks’ Tea, Thorn, and For the old times and Weekend because I wasn't sure...)
Harvest (M, Solo!Gil) (yes, again)
There’s better places to wake up; this time Gil found himself in one of the worst.
Klavier (M, Fem!Pol/Pru; brief Fem!Pol/Hun, Pru/Hun, Aus/Hun)
After a childhood friend stops replying his letters, Gilbert travels to see her.
Der jäger (E, Prussia/OC, many CWs!)
Tempting fate, or fate tempting him, life being so boring lately... During the soldiers' marksmanship training, someone doesn't stop staring at him. It shouldn't be anything he could not handle—or that's what he thought.
Thanatos (E, FrAus, SpAus, PruAus, more ships -Polycule lol-)
Roderich doesn't want to turn around back to human civilization, no matter how much the creatures of the woods and the mountains beg him. He can't go back, he insists, staying composed for as long as he can.
Go ahead if you want to do this!
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wolvzephyr · 1 month ago
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jäger/sieben (scene from a very good fic)
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hats-all-de-hats · 10 months ago
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Oo, dats de kinda dats nic eund simple. Und ho boy iffen some ov dose light keeps ken get nasty bout keeping de light. Goot fight vit dose type!
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Lighthouse Keeper’s Hat, America, c. 1910
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lucyrose191 · 1 year ago
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Oh oh, can you write a pt2 of your kimi raikkonen fic? The date 🥰
SPOKEN ADMIRATION| K.RÄIKKÖNEN
Author’s note; not too sure how I feel about this, it’s not my best work.
Pairing; Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Driver!Reader
Summary; Whilst the rest of the grid are out partying and celebrating Kimi and Y/N spend some time alone getting to know each other in his hotel room together
Warning; Implied age gap but not specified.
F1 Master List , Part 1
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Y/N didn’t know if she understood Kimi correctly when he had invited her to his room for ‘a drink’. These days that could mean anything, if it was anyone else she’d assume they were asking her out as a sort of relaxed date to get to know each other but this was Kimi Raikkonen, possibly one of the hardest people in the world to understand.
Did he want to get to know her better?
She had never really payed much attention to men, she had most definitely been approached and asked out before but with a goal as ambitious as hers growing up she found it best to focus on racing rather than any other aspects of her life, racing was just more important to her.
She also wasn’t really a fan of how immature guys her age could be but Kimi wasn’t her age, their conversations had been pretty limited but she couldn’t deny that he was charming in his own way.
His ‘iciness’ had never deterred her in any way because she herself was like that too, in fact now that she thought about it she seemed to enjoy the press conferences much more when Kimi was there with her, their personalities, as blunt or ‘harsh’ as they could be, fit well together and she knew the journalists hated interviewing them together but Y/N found herself enjoying those interviews more than any others.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, she hadn’t put much effort in her outfit, she thought if she was simply going to be spending the evening with Kimi in his room then comfort was the way to go and settled on a jogger and hoodie set, even if Kimi did want it to be a sort of date she doubted he’d have put in much effort as well.
Her hair looked great though and she had minimal makeup on and deemed it enough for the night.
Arriving at his hotel room, her nerves had skyrocketed, something she wasn’t familiar with as she was usually confident but it seemed all that confidence had left her tonight.
Not wanting to stand in the hallway of the hotel all night, she knocked on the door, it only took a few seconds for him to answer.
She was taken by surprise.
He was wearing a grey top with matching sweats but it was the glasses on his face that had caught her attention.
He looked hot.
"I didn’t know you wore glasses," she commented lightly as she walked past him into his room, taking notice of how uncannily tidy it was, she didn’t imagine him as a near freak but he surely wouldn’t have cleaned his room just because she was coming, would he?
"Just at night," he shrugged, gesturing to his bed for bed to sit whilst he walked round the other side where there was a bottle of wine and two glasses waiting.
Y/N gave him a funny look. "Since when did you drink wine? I thought you were into the hard stuff."
Kimi looked at her before looking towards the floor as though trying to hide a smile knowing she was right. "You prefer wine," he simply stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Y/N stood for a moment and stared, letting his words sink in. "I do-but, well, I thought you invited me here to try and get me drunk? I was expecting whiskey and jäger bombs."
Kimi sighed and took a seat on the edge of the bed, popping open the bottle of wine and filling the glasses half way. "I didn’t invite you here to get drunk," he muttered, turning himself around to hand over her glass before lying his body against the headboard, his own glass in hand resting against his stomach.
She took the glass and mimicked his movements, both lying next to each other as she thought about his words and what to say in return. "Why did you invite me here?" She eventually settled on asking, not really wanting to beat around the bush.
Kimi pursed his lips at her question, eyes trained on the ceiling as he tried to find the words, he couldn’t just blurt it out, that would be wrong.
Y/N turned her head and looked at him curiously, "Do you like me, like, are you attracted to me?" She asked bluntly.
She watched as a subtle pink tinge blossomed on his cheeks and tried to press down the smile that was trying to appear on her face.
"S’ppose so," he responded, his voice that usual Finnish gruff that seems to be more prominent when he tried to be nonchalant or brush a topic to the side.
"You suppose so?" Y/N asked, biting down on her bottom lip, feeling he mouth threatening to stretch wider into a smile.
She wanted to laugh when he simply shrugged in response, knowing that if this was going to go anywhere then it was up to her because getting this far was probably way out of his comfort zone and it seemed he was really trying. "Did you ask me here as a date?"
"It was just a thought- Sebastian thought it would be a good idea-"
"-This was Sebastian’s idea?" The smile fell from her face.
Kimi rubbed a palm over his face as he saw the look on her face, he raised the glass to his mouth and downed its entirety before sitting up and facing her properly.
"I wanted it, he pushed me. I’m glad he did. I hoped you’d be open to the idea but I know you aren’t interested in finding- I just thought-"
"You really aren’t good with words, are you?" Y/N smiled at him, finding his rambling quite adorable.
"You’re right though, I’m not really interested in finding someone, or well- I wasn’t but then you asked which took me by surprise and if you wanted to then I’d give it a go, us two. I’d rather keep it on the down low though, for now at least, until it’s something."
A half a smile had grown on Kimi’s face as Y/N had rambled, relief filling his chest at her words. He was honestly more than fine with keeping it quiet, whatever it was, it would be nice to figure out things without people prying and he wouldn’t want to be the cause of her receiving backlash.
He couldn’t give a shit about anything that’s said about him but Y/N has worked so hard to get to where she is and he didn’t want to affect that, besides he was planning on retiring in the next few year so after that then there’d really be no issue.
"Are you okay with that?" She asked, not knowing what his silence meant.
Kimi looked at her in the eye and nodded, revelling in the pure joy on her face.
"So, what does Kimi Räikkönen do when he’s not busy with his hobby?" Y/N tried to get to know him.
"Bwoah, I don’t know," he blew out a large puff of air as he thought before shrugging "Sleep."
Y/N rolled her eyes "Of course you do, that’s all I ever see you doing," she teased.
"I don’t want to talk about me, I want to know about you," he told her strongly which she relented to knowing that there was time for her to get to know him.
"Well, what do you want to know?"
"Everything," he immediately responded as though he didn’t even need to think about it.
Y/N looked down to hide her smile before looking back up into his eyes that were sitting intently on her, his eyes held a soft gaze that she had never seen him have before; not realising that it actually appeared quite often whenever she was around.
"Well," she began. "When I was younger, I used to be quite bothered about what the boys in karting would say about me but then my dad told me that it was stupid that I even listened when I was easily beating them on the track and would be able to beat them with my fists too if he allowed me to, ever since then I just imagined myself punching everyone whenever they said something about me, I still do it now, the amount of times I’ve imagined punching Will Buxton in the face is ridiculous." She laughed melodically causing Kimi to smirk.
"My favourite colour is light blue, it has been since I was born because my parents got told I was a boy and had gotten me a blue stuffed rabbit that I still have to this day. I’ve always wanted to drive for RedBull because Sebastian drove for the team and he was my favourite driver, I loved how ruthless he was."
Kimi was never going to tell Sebastian that because if he found out the woman Kimi liked had seen Seb as an idol then the German would never let him live it down.
"Something you might not like is that I actually hate partying and getting drunk because I got alcohol poisoning as a teenager and I love that you’re always yourself in front of the cameras and show exactly who you are and where you’re here, to race, you couldn’t care less about the fame and I admire that."
As she finished speaking she looked him in the eyes, appreciating the thoughtful look on his face and the soft curve of his lips.
They simply stared at each other for a while, shoulders touching and wine glasses long forgotten, Y/N still half filled.
It was a subconscious move in the way Kimi’s face inched closer to hers, he hadn’t even noticed but she did and mimicked him until their noses were lightly brushing against each other.
Eventually, it was Y/N that inched forward and pressed her lips against his. She had never experienced a fluttering stomach from a kiss before, right now was a first. There were butterflies flying around crazily in her abdomen and every thought had disappeared, leaving her a cloudy mind.
When they pulled apart for air, they kept their bodies close, not really wanting to lose their connection entirely, both searching the others eyes for any sign of regret but pleasantly found none.
Kimi lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, silently pulling her into his embrace.
Not much needed to be said between the two, there was now a clear unspoken agreement between the two that it was now the start of something that would potentially be great, if not the start of what could be their entire lives,
Both were looking forward to it, grateful that a simple night together could’ve made so much progress.
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star-ar512 · 1 month ago
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jäger chilling gayly on a chair (from a fic i love)
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chigirisprincess · 1 year ago
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Covered in the Colour of You ࿐
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— Armin Arlert
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, cisfem reader (use of girl as reference to the reader), reader's hair gets combed through, reader wears a nightgown, post-canon exploration of characters and setting, reader is mentally ill (so is Armin), hunger as a metaphor for desire, love as consumption, love confessions, first times (Armin is a virgin, Reader is not), first kisses, sex on a table, some foreplay, unprotected sex, creampies, ambiguous ending, angst, hurt/some comfort, childhood friends to lovers. ⊹ Run time. 10k ⊹ Note. I don't know how we got here but I'm glad we did. This was meant to be a cute comfort fic to deal with the ending of Attack on Titan but it became so much more, I hope you enjoy.
❝A surprise visit from your childhood friend, Armin Arlert forces you to confront the feelings you've been harbouring for over a decade..❞
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The Jägerist’s cries are deafening, they bounce off the clay brick walls of the surrounding houses and slither through your shuttered window panes. Every Tuesday and Thursday, the newly minted Paradis military regiment convenes in the small town square within the rebuilt city of Shiganshina. It took them just under a month to replace the fallen with green boys and girls who were just buzzing at the idea of honouring Eren Jäger and avenging his death. Once Paradis managed to secure the resources– if there were any left– you were certain that the military would erect a bronze statue of Paradis’ “saviour”. For now, they’d bother napping babies and the elderly folk who milled about the area to soak in some of the sun’s sweet warmth. 
Today they seemed to be reminding those who’d spare an ear to listen, that traitors would soon shore and with them came treasonous falsehoods. If not for Queen Historia who still harbours some morsel of affection for her old comrades, they’d be as good as dead the moment their ship docked. Word spread quickly, how you weren’t sure, but like wildfire the claim that Armin Arlert had been the one to kill Eren Jäger scorched the plains and further sowed the seeds of instability amongst the population. 
The irony of such a ludicrous statement was not lost on you. Armin Arlert couldn’t kill Eren Jäger, they were best friends and all of Shiganshina knew there could not be one without the other. You had known the two almost as long as they had known each other. Shiganshina wasn’t so big in those days, Grisha Jäger was the only doctor and Armin’s father was something of a handyman. They were who you called upon when something was amiss and you’d thank them with a warm meal or something sweet. That was what you did in those days, you showed kindness wherever you could. They were so simple, those days when the walls kept secrets and our minds were shrouded with ignorant bliss. Some mornings when you woke before the sun had yet risen, you wished Paradis could have remained tucked safely beneath the blanket King Fritz had pulled over the island. 
What little sense of communal affection remained dwindled with calls to action that erupted from the square.
This morning, the sense of longing that had settled between your lungs weighed heavily as you listened to the shouting. You wished the clock would turn back and the next time you woke, you’d be ten years old and the house you lived in would be your home. It was sort of a sick joke, to be given the keys to the house built upon the rubble of your family's home. Floch handed you the keys as if he had done you this great personal service when it had been Eren, Armin, Mikasa, and their friends who had dug through the wreckage to salvage the home they too had lost. Vagrancy was tiring and what little money you had to your name after years of working for meagre wages that just barely covered your expenses, maybe you should have been grateful to at least collect a few pieces of your life before even if they jagged and misshapen. Something was better than nothing, wasn’t it?
It had to be. 
There needed to be some reason for you to keep going. Lately, there didn’t seem to be any. Everything felt wrong. The once-cobbled streets were made of smooth even stone that allowed you to bounce around the city with ease, it reminded you of the capital. As a child, you often felt jealous that Wall Sina was home to such niceties while you were made to trip over protruding stones and wade through mud puddles in the wet months. Now though, you’d give anything for a semblance of a distant past that would make Shiganshina home once more. But as you lingered around your old haunts, searching for familiar faces and memories that would ease the pain in your chest, all you’d find was something new and foreign that left you feeling disappointed.
Turning over onto your side you curled inwards, a soft sigh passing your lips as you willed your mind to banish the longing that gnawed at you. The cool breeze that glides through your window leaves goosebumps on the bits of flesh that aren’t being swaddled by your thin white blanket. All the battle cries seemed to have simmered down as the sun inched closer toward the middle of the sky. You might be able to catch the morning market before they pack up their wares for the day if you leave now. Your icebox was pathetically empty, with only a head of rapidly wilting lettuce and milk to occupy the space. Sitting upward with a yawn, you cast a glance toward your dresser. Your clothes hang sloppily over the side of the open drawers. You should probably tidy things up before the hour grows too late.
The sleek, mousy brown floorboards that make up the second story of your house do not creak as you pad across the room—your chest aches, though you’ve grown desensitised to the familiar feeling. Your house used to creak and groan when the wind blew too roughly, and the walls were thin enough that you’d wake to the sound of your mother humming as she prepared breakfast for your family. You tried not to dwell too hard, if anything you should have been relieved. An unexpected storm wouldn’t dare to blow the roof off your house now. 
Plucking the soft, brown wool knit cardigan off the lip of your cracked door you slipped the fabric over your body. Your delicate muslin nightgown did little to keep the morning chill away. It did even less to preserve any ounce of modesty. Your bare feet slapped against the stairs as you headed downward, and a soft knock sounded at your door. Pulling your cardigan closer to your body you sighed. It must have been Mrs. Bergmann from next door coming to check on you, make sure you left your house this week, let in some fresh air– function as any other human would, that sort of stuff. She had been widowed long ago, her only son had been one of the many scouts to give his life for a free Paradis. There wasn’t much for her to do aside from checking in on her neighbours. She was a wife, a mother– it was in her nature to nurture all the little lost souls she came across.
“I’m coming Mrs. Bergmann,” You called, your voice echoing around the empty space that would have been your living room, “You don’t need to call in Werner to bust down the door just yet!”
Forcing a smile to your lips, you prepared yourself to open the door. Mrs. Bergmann was well-meaning on the best of days, if a little nosey on the worst. It was better to have someone than no one at all, you remind yourself, pushing back the urge to blanche and roll your eyes at the urgency of her knocking. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hope your hair wasn’t too gnarly after all the tossing and turning you did last night. The door opens with a soft click as you twist the knob open.
Shock blows through you as you blink at the person on the other side. Your eyes frantically open and close, trying to make sense of who stood before you but as your synapses fired off round after round, searching for something, they found nothing.
“Armin?” You timidly ask, your throat twists up and grows dry.
The syllables on your tongue felt wrong. Maybe, the muscles had just forgotten how his name tasted. As a child, his name rolled off your tongue sweetly and constantly. Back then, there had been too many emotions packed inside your small body, you could never make sense of them, all you knew was that they all led back to the man in front of you. Your cheeks warmed at the reminder of the crush you used to harbour, of how you’d write your name and his, silently calling yourself Mrs. Arlert as if she hadn’t already existed in the form of his mother.
Armin’s cheeks grow round with the shy smile he wears, “Hi,” he says. The remnants of his boyhood live in the soft curve of his jaw and the cherub-like softness of his rosy complexion. 
“Hi,” you breathlessly whispered as you searched for any other lingering signs of familiarity. 
“May I come in?” he asks, his nervous hands smooth imaginary wrinkles in his sage green tie. The breath is selfishly stolen from your lungs by the greedy, monster who lived inside of you. They swallowed back the traces of your youth, you hoped it was enough to placate them because as long as your breath was hitched, no words could come forth.
Armin’s blue eyes curiously peered back at you from beneath his pale blonde lashes. He was still quite pretty, but the edge of maturity that marred his features made your heart flutter in a way it never had. The desperate longing that clawed at your rib cage slowed, pawing instead as its interests morphed into something more amorous. You would have beaten it down if you could, shame prickles your skin as you clear your throat.
“Of course,” you stutter, opening the door to make room for him to enter, “You’ll have to excuse my appearance, I wasn’t expecting any guests this morning.”
His smile is polite, “What about Mrs. Bergmann?” He inquires, his eyes darting around to drink in the interior of your house. It looked just like the one he was raised in but it had been twelve years since he stepped foot in one. The scouts lived in barracks that were carved out of long-since abandoned castles, “You seemed to be expecting her.”
“Ah, not exactly,” you muttered, offering him a seat at your dining table, “She’s just the only visitor I have as of late … So, what brings you by?”
Armin declines the seat, instead pulling out the chair opposite of him for you. You thank him with a small bow of your head. His knuckles brush against your shoulders as he slides his fingertips along the edge of your chair before swinging around to the other side. In a world of boys, Armin Arlert was a gentleman, as he always had been, even at the age of ten when boys took to tugging girls' pigtails for attention. His grandfather would be proud of the young man he’s become. You think Mr. Arlert would have been proud even if all Armin did was survive.
The warm yellow sunlight filters through the windows and turns Armin’s hair a shade of bleach blonde. His skin is tanned, his cheeks rosy. He looks healthy, he’s a bit taller too. His hair was different too now that you took a moment to look at it, only slightly so. The shaved undercut reminded you of the short, stoic captain whose charge Armin was in for years.
Insecurity stirred in your belly. You thought of what you might look like to him being so dishevelled in nothing but a nightgown and cardigan. Unkempt, that is how you must have appeared to him. The bike in your stomach burns at the back of your throat as you cross your legs and tuck as much of your body beneath the table as you can. 
“I just wanted to see you,” he says, resting his linked hands on the table, “It’s been a while since we last spoke.”
It’s been over four years, the bitter overly insecure voice in your head hisses, “It has, but you’ve been busy, saving the world and all,” you say instead, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, “Honestly I must confess, I'm a bit surprised, I thought you and the other ambassadors would be meeting with the Queen.”
What you truly mean to say dangles in the air. Armin can feel it, he shifts in his seat— why wasn’t he with someone more important? How did he manage to sneak past the Jägerists predatory gaze? He shouldn’t have been here. The anguish that wrought the shores of Paradis couldn’t be fixed with a measly conversation but surely, it was a start so, why was he here with you?
“She met our boat at the harbour to ensure our safe passage into the city,” he explains, picking at his fingers, “We’re still trying to coordinate with the army but they’ve agreed to allow free reign of Shiganshina so long as we remain unarmed.”
“It would be rather counterintuitive for peace ambassadors to bear arms.”
Armin lets out a small chuckle, smiling a bit to himself.
“But, they’ve already proved their incompetence in thinking trained soldiers need weapons to fight,” you muttered, casting your eyes away from him, “I … My apologies, I shouldn't speak ill of your comrades.”
“They’ve dissolved the Scout Regiment, I’m no longer a soldier and they are not my comrades,” Armin swiftly replies.
He fiddles with his tie again, flattening out the fabric with scar-riddled hands. The last time you saw him, his skin was surprisingly unmarred. Old scars you could have sworn imprinted his skin ceased to exist, something to do with his newfound titan ability, that’s what Eren said when he rolled up his sleeves to expose his own blemish-free body. It seemed unnatural then, for the pieces of personal history to be erased but Armin felt alien enough without you reminding him of how much he had changed. 
“Yes, but-”
“How are you doing?” He interrupts, and an apologetic look swims within the depths of his baby blue eyes. His time in the military was a touchy subject, which was to be expected but it didn’t wash away the burn of curiosity that ribbed at your bones, “When I last wrote to Mikasa, she said she hadn’t seen you in some time in spite of being neighbours.”
Pursing your lips, you sigh, “I’m doing well Armin,” it’s a bald-faced lie but the two of you have become so estranged, Armin couldn’t know you the way he once did, not when so much time has washed the imprints you’ve pressed upon each other as it brought in the tide, “How are you?”
“That’s not an answer,” Armin frowns, the dip of his lips making his cheeks round in a way that reminds you that he is only twenty-two, “I haven’t seen you in four years, I … I want to know what your life is like.”
Reaching over the table, Armin takes your hand in his. If he notices the irritated and oozing flesh around your cuticles, he keeps it well hidden. Smoothing his thumb over your knuckles, Armin settles his eyes on yours, taking in the two little lines that have been carved into your skin from how often you furrow your brows. There was no “correct” way to tell someone that you spent most of your afternoons curled up in bed, lying listlessly as you listened to the sounds of the bustling street below. Armin had a penchant for worrying, he’d worry about your well-being when there were far more important issues for him to focus on. 
“It’s not so different from before.”
Armin was unconvinced. Eight years ago, after the Scout Regiment took control of the central government, a bit of money was sent your way in addition to your rebuilt childhood home. Though they wouldn’t say it, you believed that Eren, Armin, and Mikasa felt guilty for abandoning you the moment they turned twelve thus becoming eligible to enrol in the Cadet Corps. You had no interest in joining the Scouts, Military Police, or the Garrison but Eren was determined and wherever Eren went so too did Mikasa and Armin. With no family and no friends, you had to fend for yourself. It wasn’t so bad. A woman, you could hardly remember her name now, paid you to care for her youngest child while she and her husband worked, and their older children attended school. She gave you room and board, fed you three square meals, and gave you “hand-me-downs” to wear.
In the chaos of Trost being breeched you became separated and weeks later learned that the family perished. You used what little money you managed to save to pay for board in an inn near Jinae where you worked as a stable hand until your childhood friends and their comrades came bearing gifts. You’d need to find work soon. Now that you were of age, you were sure to find a cushy job as a barmaid at the local tavern. 
“You think it is?” You asked, biting on your bottom lip.
Armin nods. His grip tightens and he mutters a low, “Sorry” when you wince from how he accidentally squishes your fingers beneath his.
Shrugging your shoulders you think back to the before much like you did most days, “Paradis is being run by lunatics who worship a dead man,” you blanche, your chest preemptively tightening from your nerves, “That’s not so different to before when this shitty little island was run by lunatics who worshipped the walls.”
Except now, people actually paid mind to the chirping loons. They had access to weapons that could wipe out what was left of humanity and certainly were unafraid to use them. Crossing them would be a very stupid and very dangerous mistake. Bravery was what this island prided itself on, now the most one could muster was a contempt-filled glower that was sent in passing. 
“That’s not …” Armin’s voice trailed off. There was that look of guilt again. 
“I know.”
Lacing your fingers between his, you squeeze Armin’s hand.
“It’s not your fault, Armin,” you assure, your mouth twisting up into a strange smile. The muscles in your face seemed to ache as though you were contorting your expression, “You know that, right?”
He nods his head, and strands of his pale blonde hair fall against his forehead as he does, “I know,” he whispers with conviction though his hand trembles in yours. You remain unconvinced, guilt rolls off his shoulders in sickening waves.
“It’s not Eren’s fault either.”
You’re unsure why you say it. It was Eren’s fault. It was his name and his image that they fought for. Whatever politics happened behind closed doors did not matter, not when he died knowing that those men and women idolised him and would wage wars in his name. One spoiled fruit rotted away the entire crop and now Paradis was ready to cosign its doom, picking on the weakened and the damned as if this island had not once been just the same.
“Thank you,” Armin mouths, his voice barely audible as he clears his throat and replaces his expression with a friendly smile.
“I guess the trains are different,” you blurt, looking for a way to steer the sinking ship that was this conversation, “I’ll never get used to them, they’re so loud and dark inside.”
“Glad to know our hard work is being appreciated.” 
You lift the corners of your lips to smile at him, “It is, the horses are very grateful to no longer be worked to the bone by merchants transporting goods from Maria to Sheena,” you say, nearly forgetting that there no longer was an interior or exterior to name, “Life here is still simple, Armin, there isn’t much to update you on.”
“Still-”
“We can’t all be heroes,” you jest, nudging his foot beneath the table, “So, tell me what is life like for you?”
Armin withdraws his hands from yours, “It’s all I talk about, I don’t want to talk about it with you,” he explains, swallowing thickly, “Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.”
Rising from your seat you round the corner of the small table to press the palm of your hand between his shoulder blades. The gesture is meant to be comforting but you feel awkward, like you shouldn’t be touching him like this though your body craved the knowledge of what his skin would like against yours. The tips of your fingers graze the edge of his crisp collar, you hastily jerk back, eyes narrowing to inspect the fabric for any unwanted crinkles you may have caused.
“I’ve been such a bad host,” you mutter, “My mother would be so disappointed that I haven’t asked you if you’d like anything to drink.”
“Tea if you have any, please.”
You nod again, you still have some dried chamomile that Mrs.Bergmann gave to you when you confessed to her that you struggled to sleep some days. The tea didn’t help but it was the thought that counted. Goosebumps trailed up the length of your bare legs and you cursed yourself for not excusing yourself to dress before you sat down with Armin. The early spring air wouldn’t warm until the late afternoon most days. 
Armin’s gaze is heavy. He watches you flutter about your kitchen with keen intent. His eyes slither up your body in a methodical manner. You’re unsure if he’s leering the way men unabashedly do when they’re three pints in or if he’s searching for any indication that something might be amiss. You hope it’s the latter. It should be the latter, you didn’t feel uncomfortable and Armin wasn’t one to steal eyefuls of others.
“Do you still like it with milk and honey?” you ask, though you’ve already reached into the icebox in search of the milk you knew was in there. Hopefully, it hasn't yet spoiled.
You flinched when you rose to your full height. Armin had materialised behind you. The jug nearly drops from your hand but Armin is quick to wrap his fingers around the handle, overtop of your hand. He guides the jug to the counter and reaches an arm around you to take the teapot off the heat before it can release a shrill squeal. 
Pressing your hand to your chest, you murmur a breathless, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Armin chirps.
His eyes bore into yours, he’s inspecting you once more. Whatever he’s in search of, you’re certain he isn’t going to find it. The girl that he once knew was not the same woman that stood before him, nor was he the same boy even if his eyes twinkled just the same. That was growing up. Your stomach grumbled, licking its chops as the wanting returned. Your eyes trickled down Armin’s face until they settled on his cupid's bow. His lips were full and a dusted pink colour. They were nice, you remember wondering what they’d feel like against yours if it’d hurt to kiss him after he’d bitten his lips raw with stress. 
The sharp edge of the counter digs into the plush flesh of your hips as you press your body against it. Hunger is as frightening as it is all consuming. You are hungry. Are you hungry for him? You’ve craved and yearned for places and their people, but never their bodies. The one time you allowed a man in your bed it’d been out of curiosity and some twisted need to feel something, anything other than the dull twinge of melancholy that sprouted from the roots it planted in your heart. 
Armin placed his hand on your chest where your heart was. The heat of his palm melted through the thin fabric of your nightgown, causing you to instinctively shiver, “Your heart is racing,” he comments, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, “I didn’t startle you, did I?”
“No.”
“How is Annie?” You nervously ask, searching for a way to stifle the deluded desire that coursed through your veins, “Last I heard from Hitch, she had been freed from her crystal and joined you. That must have been exciting, being able to speak to her after so many years.”
His face crinkles up into a confused expression, “Annie is fine, they’re all fine. Connie and Jean are excited to see their mothers,” he replies slightly, cocking his head to the side, “Why do you ask?”
You shrug your shoulders. Armin doesn’t remove his hand. Your heart skips a beat, you’re sure he feels it. 
“Was just curious I guess, since I heard you had feelings for her.”
“Annie and I are friends, nothing more,” his nose crinkles, he seems to want to ask where you hear such a ludicrous rumour but doesn’t. When he wasn’t with the scouts, he was with her crystal, talking as if one day she might answer back.
“Oh.”
“Are you seeing anyone?” Armin counters, his long pale lashes fluttering against his cheek as he blinks, “You’ve always been … quite the catch.”
His voice trails off, he regrets his wording. He didn’t want to liken you to fish or cattle but of all the vast information stored in his brain, there seemed to be nothing on complimenting women. Not that he’s done much of that in his lifetime. There’s never been a need to. Armin wants to compliment you, to tell you how he really feels but it gets clogged in his throat as he struggles to get a read on you.
Shaking your head, you avert your gaze.
It’s not for a lack of trying or wanting. None of the relationships you pursued ever felt right. Their hands didn’t fit within yours the way they were supposed to. Your body was hallowed out in the middle but they couldn’t fill you up. It wasn’t their fault. You’d accept that you were broken, someone who simply wasn’t meant to be loved. It was easy. Until now, when the one person your heart still clung to stood here and dangled himself like a carrot.
“Good, you’re too good for anyone on this island,” his proclamation makes your skin itch. Even if what he said were true, you would have to settle for someone on this island eventually, lest you spend the rest of your life as alone as you are now, “You deserve someone who’s good enough for you.”
You nearly laugh, though he makes this statement with such earnestness that you’re almost inclined to believe him. Almost.
“Who then?”
Looking into his eyes made your lungs ache. There was nowhere to escape with how he pinned you in place with his gaze.
“Who’s good enough for me?” You ask, your nails digging into the wood counter as you curl your fists around the lip of it, “You?”
Armin rolls his eyes and the sight alone shocks you, “No, I could never be good enough for you,” a laugh springs forth, crackling past your lips before you’re able to stop it, “Is something funny?”
His cheeks turn red with embarrassment but there's nowhere for him to hide either.
“No … Yes, actually,” you sigh, expelling all the air from your lungs as you muster up the resolve to be truthful, “I have loved for as long as I can remember and I have wanted you even before I even knew what love truly was.”
Your fingers coil around his wrist, intent on wrenching his hand away from your chest but the look in his eyes stops you. Sadness and self-loathing meet in the bright blue pools of his irises. You were born six months before he was but he’s always seemed years ahead of you. There was a certain kind of wisdom that surrounded him, you weren’t sure why. Now though, whatever maturity that shrouded Armin vanished and all that lay beneath was a newborn fawn that teetered on legs far too long for him.
Your nails dig into the cuff of his jacket, crinkling the pristine fabric, “There is not a day that goes by where I haven’t thought of you.”
“I’m no good for you either,” he says with a wet laugh. His eyes shone with welled up tears that had no business blurring his gaze.
“Because you’ve killed people?” You ask, your brows furrowing as you frown, “There are many people who have done worse for less. At least you had a reason.”
“I could never be the man that you need me to be.”
“Not even for an afternoon?” You had always known his future held more than your own, even before he became humanity's saviour. He’d make his peace with Paradis and leave, maybe he’d come back years from now, or maybe he’d plant his roots elsewhere.
His hand trembles as he shakes his head, “No.”
Pressing his forehead against yours, he releases a shaky exhale. You bite back the urge to ask him once more why he was here. You were never that close as children, you were close in a way that all of Shiganshina was but never anything more than, at least nothing that would have meant this unannounced visit was appropriate.
“Why?”
“You should live a quiet life,” Armin whispers, his lips nearly grazing yours as they move to form each syllable, “A happy life, after all you’ve been through, you deserve it.”
Your eyes flutter shut, “And you don’t?” It’s a stupid question, really, if he believed he did this conversation wouldn’t be happening, “You’ve been through far more than I, you’ve lost so much more.”
“I have even more to atone for.”
His bottom lip quivers as he presses the weight of his body into you. He’s heavier than you could have imagined, and his body is harder too. Somewhere between now and then his lithe frame melded into lean muscle and it serves as another reminder of how much time has passed, how little you two knew of each other now. Trailing your fingertips over his shoulder, you slide your arm around him, pulling him into an embrace. Armin shudders in your hold, a meek whimper slipping past his lips as he crushes his body into yours. Your nails press into the sliver of skin that peeks over the lip of his collar. 
It's the nape of his neck.
When titans were simply the monsters that hid beneath your bed and plagued your dreams, it was common knowledge that the way to snuff them out was through the nape. It felt oddly vulnerable for your hand to roam over the smooth expanse of skin, though even as a titan shifter it was no weak spot, it may well have been with the way his body shook in your arms.
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to live or to love,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, “You get to love now, you get to be loved. Armin, you’re allowed to have things and to want things even after all that has happened.”
Armin sniffles, pressing his nose in your hair. The scent of the lavender soap you’ve used for as long as you could remember still clings to your hair. You wonder if he remembers if that is why he burrows his face deeper until the tip of his nose and his lips brush against the skin of your neck. 
Wanting was hard.
So little felt tangible and on the off chance it was, it remained just out of reach. Like a tease, that brushed your fingertips as you outstretched your arm before pulling away or a glimpse of the sun before an array of clouds moved in from across the sky. You couldn’t remember the last time you wanted something. Whatever it was you felt for Armin simmered lowly on a back burner until now, longing did not serve survival. Still, you wanted him but not in the way magpies coveted shiny trinkets but in the way the stars longed for the moon. It was a constant, all consuming yearning that made your stomach twist inward at the strange sensation.
“I don’t even …” Armin trails off, his voice wet with emotion, “I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to desire something.”
Leaning back, Armin allows enough space for him to look at your face. His cheeks are pink, blotchy, and shiny with half dried tears that pooled atop the apples of his cheeks. Cupping your face with the palm of your hand, he smiles sadly at you.
“But, all I have wanted for years was to know what it is like to kiss you.”
Your body burns, not with embarrassment but something else.
“Is that all?” You ask.
The corners of Armin’s mouth twitch upward, “Maybe not but I let go of those dreams long ago.”
“You kept this one, why?”
“Wishful thinking, maybe or … ?” Armin says, scrunching his brows together as he trails off, “You’ve always been here, you’ve been a constant in this ever changing world so I suppose I hoped there’d be a day where I could …”
“Kiss me?”
Armin bashfully nods, biting his lip a bit.
The shiny metal kettle of water grows cold in the length of time you and Armin spend silently staring at each other. He assesses you, slowly, looking for any signs that your affection for him remained buried in the past. You spoke in the past tense, and your words were too easily misconstrued. Your hands slip to cup the underside of his jaw. All this waiting, all this thinking was maddening when you knew exactly what you wanted. His face replaced those of all the men you kissed, his body manifested in the throngs of taverns like an apparition to taunt you. You wanted to kiss him more than you wanted anything else in this world.
His skin was warm to the touch, you’re sure yours is too. You feel warm like you’ve been dipped in melted candle wax. A bit of stubble tickles the palm of your hands and it makes you giggle. His hair is so fair, you didn’t even notice. Armin’s shoulders tense as you lean in, insecurity claws at your throat but you’ve already taken the leap. You were too far gone now to change your mind. Gently grazing your lips across his, you give Armin a chance to back away but he only leans in closer, his calloused thumbs bite into the soft edge of your jawline as he instinctively squeezes you.
Armin’s lips are slightly chapped and scabbed over in a way that tells you he still nervously chews them when he’s worried. He’s inexperienced, that you were expecting, not that you were particularly tactful with how you clumsily melded your mouth against his. Though, he didn’t seem to mind as he eagerly attempted to mimic each movement. The thread of want that coiled around your stomach roared, begging for your attention as pulled away.
The small noise of disappointment that gathers in the back of Armin’s throat does not fall deaf upon your ears. But, you feel ravenous. If you didn’t slither away now, you’d consume him, bones and all, before he’d even had the chance to register that you sunk your teeth into his sternum. You feel ravenous. It makes your skin itch. Your fingers twitched, they desperately wished to burrow themselves into his flesh to feel how his heart thrummed for you.
Through lidded eyes, Armin peers at you, “Just like I thought,” he says, his cheeks somehow deepening in colour.
“What do you mean?”
“One kiss and I’m gone,” he explains but that doesn’t smooth the confused furrow from between your brows, “I want more, I don’t know how I’m meant to live on knowing what it’s like to kiss and never being able to again.”
Your nose scrunches as you frown, “Say who?”
“Pardon?”
“Who said that I’d never kiss you again?” You ask, smoothing your thumb along the length of his stubbly jaw, “Because, I never said that.”
“I just thought-”
Looping your arms around his neck you sigh, “Stop thinking so much,” you whine, allowing yourself to relish in the knowledge that he too wanted more, “Sometimes things are far simpler than you make them out to be.”
Armin bashfully dips his chin for a moment, his heat filled gaze cast away which offers you some reprieve. Only for a short moment, though. He faces you once more in an instant. You can see it swimming in the pools of his irises, the want, the hunger. It’s something you never imagined to be reflected back to you, least of all from Armin. It thrills you all the same, your skin prickling with electricity that crackles to life when he reaches for your hips.
It’s gentlemanly, how he rests his hands respectively over your body with a feather light touch that may flee should you move too quickly. You want more though, you wish he’d take claim to you the way you the way your cunt ached for.
“Are they?”
You nod, fearing your voice would somehow betray you.
He too nods, far more thoughtful than you were, “You know, I loved you too, never had any doubts of what it was,” he muses, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows, “It never faded either even when I lost and confused about what came next.”
His admission makes you bristle, your ears perking up in search of any misspoken syllables that may have deluded you. There were none. There was no mistaking what Armin had confessed. It doesn’t feel real. You’d pinch yourself if Armin’s watchful gaze was pointed anywhere but you. That alone was proof enough that this was very real, Armin just confessed his love for you.
“And you?” Armin asks.
“Huh?”
Your heart pounds, screaming over the sound of Armin’s voice. You suck in a shaky breath and will your heart to calm down. In all your years of wanting, of yearning, you never imagined what it would be like to have your feelings reciprocated. You assumed neither of you would live long enough for anything to come to fruition. But you could hope now, right?
“Did your feelings for me ever fade?”
“No … no, never,” admitting out loud that you pined after a boy for nearly two decades would have made you feel pathetic if it wasn’t Armin who pulled the truth from where it coiled around your ribs,  “Even if I wanted them too, they never would. You’re it for me, you’re the only person I was made to love.”
You didn’t fancy yourself a dreamer. At least, not after everything was said and done. There wasn’t much to dream up, but if you were to dream or indulge you’d tell him that there could never be anyone else because your souls were tied together. It was a terribly selfish thought but it was true enough that you felt inexplicably tied to Armin. Even if this day passed and you never saw him again, your heart would remain his until you both returned to earth.
Armin kisses you before you’re able to backpedal on any of your words, almost shyly, but still eager enough that his need rolls off his body in waves and crashes into you. His nails press through the thin material of your nightgown to nip at your hips. You’re reminded of just how strong he has become in all your years apart when you feel his muscles ripple through his forearms.
“Armin,” you sharply whisper between the desperate press of his mouth to yours, “I want you.”
It’s an unfinished thought. There are too many words that could come next and not enough actions to convey what it is you want. Threading your fingers through carefully styled hair, you tug at the strands. Armin keens into your mouth, one of his hands shooting out to grasp the edge of the counter you were pressed against. Having braced himself, he’s careful not to put too much of his weight onto you as his body melts into yours. 
“I’m right here,” he says, with a slight laugh.
Resting your forehead against his, you sigh, “I want you,” you repeat, untangling your fingers from his hair to fiddle with the top button of his shirt. You flick it open, slowly testing the waters. There’s a sparse patch of flaxen hair that leads your gaze past his collarbones, “I want to be close to you, close with you…” 
Your whisper, wanton words did little to clarify what you meant, Armin’s confused stare was fixed on your swollen, kiss bitten lips. Popping open another button, you glare at his tie. It constricts the fabric of his shirt from spilling open any further. Pulling the tongue of the tie out from where it’s neatly tucked in his waistband, you tug on it until you’re nose to nose. You swallow thickly, your gaze trailing down the expanse of his neck. The muscles strained beneath the skin as he nervously clenched his jaw.
“Oh … Oh.”
The red in his cheeks deepened. He looked a bit like a tomato but it was rather endearing.
“...Yeah?”
He nods a bit too quickly, “Yeah,” he agrees, biting his bottom lip, “I want this, I want this with you.”
Tentatively, Armin rests his hands on your shoulder and thumbs at the worn wool of your well loved cardigan. The fabric is slowly peeling away from your body, slipping down your biceps to pool in the crook of your elbows. Your heart flutters, it’s a strange sensation and for a moment you wonder if it’s healthy. It can’t be, not with how your stomach lurches alongside your heart. Unfurling your fists from his tie, you straighten your arms and allow your cardigan to unceremoniously fall to the floor.
“Are you sure?” You ask, your fingers skimming the delicate neckline of your nightgown. You weren’t yet so overcome with lust that you forgot yourself or Armin’s apparent lack of experience.
His hands replace yours, “Yes,” his skin is clammy but so is yours, the sheen of nervous sweat that gathers along your jugular feels disgusting when laid overtop of goosebumps but you can’t will either away, “You’re special to me … there isn’t anyone else I would want to do this with.”
“You’re not just saying this because you want to die with no regrets?”
You cringe at the crippling edge of insecurity that creeps over you, mentally slapping your hand in shame. Bad! You silently scold. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. In spite of all that happened, the future was never promised, you both knew that much. There was no shame in wanting to taste all life had to offer just in case. It was human nature.
“I’m going to live a very long life,” Armin says with a confident smile. Such sureness would usually make you roll your eyes in annoyance but Armin doesn’t say it to be boastful– even if he had, he’d have earned it– he says it matter of fact, he will live a long life in spite of everything, “And so are you, there’s no need to think in half measures filled with worries because we’re going to live long beautiful lives filled with everything we could ever want.”
It’s a pretty picture he paints but you can’t help but whisper, “We are?”
Smoothing his calloused thumbs along the column of your throat, Armin exhales, “Yes, we are,” you almost believe him, his optimism was just that convincing, “I’ll make sure of it.”
Armin tugs on the loop that keeps your nightgown tied closed, not minding that the two of you still stand in your kitchenette and it’s his first time. He gently guides the thin cotton fabric open to expose your chest but doesn’t move to pull the cloth from your body. In turn, you push his jacket off his shoulders and toss it to the floor with your cardigan. He unbuttons his shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his lithe abdomen. 
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, walking backwards at your behest, “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
His brows shoot into his hairline when he bumps into the edge of your table, “I never pegged you to be such a flatterer, Mister Arlert,” you tease, pushing his chest until he takes the hint to hop onto the tabletop, “You tell all the girls that?”
It’s easy to wear a smile and play the part of a bashful lovestruck young lady. It’s only half a performance. There were parts of you that have long since been buried amongst the past lives you lived. They seemed to come back to you with each puff of breath that passed your lips. You slip in and out of you were and you could become. It’s frightening and thrilling. You like the rush you get when he smiles back at you. It’s megawatt bright and wide enough to take up most of his face. You wonder if he feels it too, the pieces that come together like a puzzle. He must, that’s why he smiles and allows himself to indulge in the perilous depths of wanting that lap at your bellies.
“No,” he playfully rolls his eyes, his fingers splaying out as he presses his palms flat against the table, “Only you. It’s only ever been you.”
Your stomach somersaults, you could get used to the feeling, the flirting, being desired earnestly. 
You’ve been desired before but those men didn’t desire you, but rather the idea of you, your house, even your cunt, but never really you. They never filled you with empty promises, their intentions quite clear from the first shared mug of ale. It never bothered you before but now it does. You wish you didn’t fall for their promise of something good when the real thing was so much better now that you had it in your grasp.
The tip of his shoe just barely grazes the floor as he swings his leg back and forth, stepping into the space between his spread legs, you graze your fingertip along the length of his thigh. The metal of his belt glints in the warm morning light. You should probably bring him upstairs, to your bedroom. You worry if you do, you’ll lose the nerves that have steeled over to service the aching monster in your belly. Tomorrow he might think you crass, perhaps he would even sooner when the haze of desire faded and he was left with the weight of his indulgence.
“May I? 
“Yes, please,” Armin breathes, shuddering a bit when you place your hand on the buckle.
His hips twitch upward, seeking the warm touch of your hand. Daring to cast your gaze downward, you rake your eyes over his growing bulge. His belt clinks open and you suck in a nervous breath. You’re about to ask if you can unbutton his dress pants when he whispers another small plea, his breath heavy.
A few strands of hair slip over the edge of your shoulder, Armin tucks them behind your ear with a pleased smile. His cock springs forth when you pull the waistband of his underwear downward. The wispy trail of hair that disappears beneath his shirt is a shade darker, but just as fine as the hair on his head. Your mouth waters at the sight of his rosy tip, precum oozes when you gently squeeze the base of his cock. Slowly pumping your hand up and down his length, you glance at Armin.
His bottom lip is squished between his teeth, hiding the sweet little sounds that travel up his throat. You strain your ears to listen, your eyes boring into his. He blinks but holds your gaze. He frees his bottom lip and allows his jaw to hang open when he realises that you’re listening to his sounds. Armin doesn’t have to be quiet, he can loudly indulge in his pleasures so he does. Softly moaning your name with a goofy, lovestruck expression on his face even as he jerks his hips up to match your rhythm. 
“Does that feel good?” you ask, internally cringing as you wrack your brain for something to say. You wonder if you should stay silent, but words may be more comforting. 
Armin’s head bobs as he nods a bit too quickly, “Yes,” he moans as he digs his nails into the splintered wood of your table.
He uses his other hand to curl his fingers around your wrist, the one that wasn’t languidly working his cock. Armin squeezes your wrist too roughly like he forgets himself and his own strength, your brows crinkle in pain but it’s easily masked as a look of concentration. You don’t mind though, the pain reminds you that you’re alive, that this was real and not just the machinations of an overactive imagination. Armin shudders when you use your thumb to spread some of the precum gathered along the head of his cock down the shaft, allowing your hand to slide more smoothly.
Your name is  sweet on his tongue, the syllables roll off it in a way that makes you think it belongs there. Like Armin was meant to say your name like this for the rest of eternity. 
“I want to touch you too,” he pants, between wanton whimpers. The smooth silver of skin that he clings to isn’t enough, “I want you to feel good too.”
It’s difficult to say no to Armin when he asks so sweetly, “Okay,” you say, bringing your linked hands up to your mouth to press a kiss to the back of his hand, “Lay back for me, okay?”
Armin does as you ask without question like a dutiful dog obeys its owner. You hitch your legs over the edge of the table and settle atop of his thighs. Hiking the hem of your nightgown upward, you guide Armin’s hand between your legs to where your bare, wet pussy clenches in anticipation. Your cunt aches with need and your chest squeezes at the slight brush of his calloused fingers across your folds.
“Touch me here.”
“Like this?” he asks, curling his fingers to rub against your throbbing clit, a shiver rolls through your spine.
Cupping your hand over his, you encourage him to make a few small circles, “Mhm, just like that,” you shudder, your breath halting when the table creaks beneath your shared weight, “It feels good, Armin.”
Seeming satisfied with himself and the way his name melted past your lips, he replicates your movement. You feel feverish with need as the urge to burrow yourself within his sternum consumes you. It melds with the pinpricks of pleasure that dance inside your belly as your muscles tense. It’s a terrible fate– to be ensnared by Armin Arlert. You don’t believe his promises, no matter how saccharine. It’s devilish for him to touch you, you’ve decided. Like with your kisses, how were you meant to go on without Armin ever touching you like this again? But, you’ve learned to manage your expectations. Dreams were called dreams because they were never meant to be anything more than something to wish on as a child. Even if he did still love you, there was too much distance between what became of your life and what became of his. 
Pleasure burns your belly. It singes your insecurities but doesn’t snuff them out in their entirety. It’s just enough to chase them away and leave nothing but bliss in their wake. Your head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Your chest heaves with haggard breaths, and your nightgown slips open to reveal the supple skin of your chest and your breasts to Armin. His gaze is respectful as he drinks in the sight. He moans to himself and marvels, it’s quite endearing. You like it, you don’t feel dirty or ashamed for your wanton ways, how could you when Armin drinks you in like you’re a perfectly crafted mountainside that has been crafted just for his admiration?
“Armin,” you sigh, “I need you inside of me.”
Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you slide the head between your dripping folds. Armin’s body wracks and his shoulders shake as he quivers with need. He moans your name once more, and you commit the sound to memory, for those cold and lonely nights that never seem to end. Your shoulders tense when you press the tip to your hole. It’s been a while, the stretch burns a bit. But, it’s nice. Your eyes roll back into your head and you curse under your breath. 
Armin slopes his hand around the nape of your neck, “Can I kiss you?” he all but moans, “I want to kiss you again.”
His rosy cheeks grow round when he offers you a bashful smile. You kiss him, your tongue and teeth clicking against one another as you sloppily move your mouth alongside his. You’ve never been much of a multitasker. It’s hard to focus on much else aside from the mind numbing pleasure that distracts you. He hasn’t stopped rolling your clit between his fingers and as he swallows up your moans with desperate, fevered kisses, you wonder if he’s enjoying how much of a mess he’s made of you. 
Your heart throbs in a funny sort of manner when you sink all the way down the length of his cock. The feeling of fullness spreads to the tips of your fingers all the way down to your toes. You hate how complete you feel, the fact that a small part of you wishes you could bottle the utter feeling of contentedness that warms you. The hunger and longing that lives inside of you never felt satiated, not once in the decade since it burrowed behind your lungs. Now though, they purr happily like a fat cat who’s had its fair share of the cream.
The taste of salt dabbles on your tongue, “Why are you crying?” Armin asks, his voice laced with concern, “Is something wrong, does it hurt?”
Swiping your fingers across the top of your cheekbones you confirm that those are your tears and not his. They spill past your lash line and there is nothing you can do to stop them. You don’t feel sad, even with the mess in your head you know that much. You sputter for a moment, desperately searching his face for an answer but nothing comes.
“I’m just so happy,” you say though you’re unsure where those words come from but they flow freely before you can stop them just like your tears, “I like being this close to you, I want to stay this close to you.”
Forever.
That’s the word that should complete your sentence. You keep it clutched to your chest where it’ll remain safe so long as you’re vigilant.
You knock your hips forward to silence whatever endeared sentiment Armin is about to form. His brows press together in concentration. He’s nearing his end, you can feel it in the way he throbs inside of you. Your tears are gently wiped by rough hands, you hardly register them. It’s difficult to focus on much as he plays with your clit and dutifully matches each flick of your hips. He’s a quick learner, he always has been. You wonder if he’s storing your reactions and sounds for later so that if there was a next time, he’d do exactly what you’d like without instruction. The end nears for you too, it lingers amongst the obnoxious groans from your table as you rock your hips. The sounds of skin bare slapping marry your shared, debauched whines. They’ll haunt your walls tomorrow and the next. 
They haunt you right now.
You didn’t think you were capable of feeling so serene, but you do. You’re untouchable as you chase your release. It lays in the palm of Armin’s hands. You’ll eat straight from them if you have to. The coil in your stomach tightens for a moment and your breathing becomes staggered. Armin is no better, he sputters small half breaths between needy whines of your name. His forehead rests on your shoulder, and his sweat dabbled hair sticks to you. Strands of your hair cling to the nape of your neck too. The cool breeze that slithers across your house makes your heated skin break out with goosebumps. It doesn’t bother you though, nothing could bother you now.
“I love you,” Armin whispers into your skin as he cums, holding your body close to his.
A few more tears well up as your orgasm washes through you. Your thighs shake and you struggle to bring your arms around his torso. His tight embrace makes up for it as they lay limply by your side. Your flush skin is peppered with affectionate kisses and his nose is nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You feel loved, you haven’t felt it in a while but it felt similar to this. The earnest way he embraces you without a second thought is imbued with love. Lifting your tired arms, you curl them around his body. Your nails dig into the hardened flesh of his back. They leave a few crescent moons to join the myriad of battle scars and freckles that have returned to him.
‘“I love you too.”
You wish you could say it was true for the moment but it’s not. It was true because you did love him, you loved him in a way you weren’t sure you were capable of loving anyone else. If Ymir the Founder had left her people with anyone before erasing herself and her titan kin from existence, you think it might have been eternal love. The kind that wasn’t possible of fading, even when you didn’t understand why.
Hours pass and you find yourself in your bed once more, on the edge of waking and sleep you register the lack of sunlight. You don’t remember exactly how you made your way upstairs but you do remember two strong arms holding you close as you allowed slumber to cradle your tired mind in its embrace. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your blanket is tucked snugly beneath your chin.
There’s a letter on your bedside table and a glass of water. You make out the letters of your name and the promise of return but you choose not to read any further. Laying in silence you wonder if she’s still out there, your creator, the founder. If she was, you hoped she would listen to your pleas. You were strong, but you weren’t strong enough to spend the rest of your life waiting on a lost life whose remains had long since returned to the dirt and earth.
You prayed that the Jägerist’s stupidity would fall deaf to Queen Historia’s ears and that when you awoke next, there’d still be a head of blond hair next to you with long pretty eyelashes and rosy cheeks that told all his secrets. 
He was too far entangled in your rib cage. You were far too comfortably curled around his aorta. Armin may be able to withstand it but you weren’t. After all this time, you really hoped you could be happy. Even with all the strangeness that came from estrangement, you felt more alive with Armin than you had in all the years of living in Shiganshina. It was a shell of its former self, with the ghosts of yesterday's past filling all the nooks and crannies. You too easily allowed yourself to become one of them, the ghosts but you didn’t half to be a ghost, you could want things just the same as Armin could.
And you wanted him to come back to you so the two of you could experience that future he was talking about.
Mr. Arlert did not raise a liar or a man who’d break promises. Your chances were good. You could be happy. All the lost parts of you could return and maybe you’d feel whole again, and maybe you’d welcome the warmth of the sun on your skin the same way you welcomed Armin back into your life. 
You deserved some ounce of happiness too. 
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© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.
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hats-all-de-hats · 10 months ago
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Huh, hy never knew about dis ting! From vhat hy looked is called 'darning'. So many hats vit de slashes ov knives, swords, a bullet dat tear t'rough de side dat vould b eall fixed op by dis und made a leetle colorful.
Ha! Mine brudders could ask, 'ho, vhy is dis part all pink vit stiches?' Und hy ken say 'let me tell hyu of de day hy face a giant bear vit knives for fingers und teeth und spines, vit a leetle lizard on its head!'
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recent repairs 🧵🪡✨️
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crazychaoticizzy · 9 months ago
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TRACK ONE: Pilot/Heart Attack
Heart Attack: the greatest rock band in history. Decades after the nasty breakup that followed their final performance in Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, the six band members finally agree to separate interviews that reveal how they came together and their rise to fame.
And what led to their sudden downfall.
EREN X READER X JEAN
CONTENT: multipart fic, rock band au, love triangle, slow burn, angst
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
Series Masterlist
AOT Masterlist
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DODGER STADIUM, LOS ANGELES After their highly anticipated performance at Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, Jean Kirschtein tore off the neck of his bass on stage and ripped a hole in the drums. After announcing his resignation from the famous band, Heart Attack, Eren Jäger punched him.
Following Jean Kirschtein's resignation, Heart Attack fell apart. The performance in Dodger Stadium was their last, and the six band members have not been seen together since.
This biography is made up of a series of interviews compiled over the years by Olivia Russo. This is the first time the band and others involved have spoken on their scandals since they broke up.
JEAN KIRSTEIN, bassist for Heart Attack: Just sit here?  Alright. Yeah, of course. Sure you don’t want anything to drink? Okay. [smiling] Hi.
EREN JÄGER, main male vocalist for Heart Attack: We’re gonna make this quick, ‘kay? I don’t wanna talk about this shit. Ask your questions, get a snack or something, and leave.
ARMIN ARLERT, guitarist for Heart Attack: Do I look okay? I dunno, I just feel nervous, I guess. I haven’t really talked about this in years, especially on camera.
SASHA BRAUS, keyboardist for Heart Attack: Oh, I’m so excited for this. Did my hair curl weird? No? Okay. What do you want me to do? Introduce myself? I don’t know, everything’s changed so much since the last time I did a one on one interview like this. Hi, my name is Sasha Braus. I was the former keyboardist and supporting female vocalist for Heart Attack.
CONNIE SPRINGER, drummer for Heart Attack: Ready, kid? You’re in for a ride. I hope you brought snack or something to hold you by, this is a long story.
MIKASA ACKERMAN, photographer and costume designer for Heart Attack: This is for a documentary, right? Or a novel? Oh, okay. Either way, I’ll try to remember everything as best I can.
Y/N L/N, main female vocalist for Heart Attack: Hey. Yeah, of course. Mess with whatever. Maybe you can hide the circles under my eyes. [laughs]
What did you think of Heart Attack?
MIKASA: Well, it was Eren’s dream, so I just kind of went with it. It was fun, though. I really liked everyone we worked with. Most of them were really nice.
EREN: We were on top of the fucking world. The biggest band of the century. Everyone knew our name and we were making millions. I don’t know why Jean wanted to throw that shit away.
JEAN: You want honesty? I fucking hated it. Every single second.
CONNIE: Ooo, getting into the deep shit already? Well, I personally thought it was so fun. More so after we got famous, but it was great even back when we were just teenagers in Mrs. Yeager’s basement.
ARMIN: I kind of felt… indifferent? I mean, yeah I liked it. I was spending time with my best friends. But I would have preferred something quieter, maybe? Something that didn’t have us at each other’s throats all the time, at least.
SASHA: Well, it was definitely stressful. God, especially when I was pregnant. I was so worried about what we were going to do then. I mean, I couldn’t be up on stage at almost nine months. Are you crazy? But then for half of our songs the keyboard is a really big part so it’s not like I just couldn’t be there.
Y/N: I really enjoyed it. Yeah, there were a couple times I maybe wanted to kill someone, but it was fun. Lifelong friends, some of them. All of them, actually, but . . .
SASHA: Oh, well. We figured it out in the end. [smiles]
Y/N: It didn’t end well, as I’m sure you know.
JEAN: What were we? A rock band, according to Google, but what we were doing wasn’t rock.
CONNIE: It’s kind of funny, actually. Before Sasha we were all so uncreative and couldn’t come up with song titles. With good reason, too, that shit is hard. Trying to sum up your song in a couple words? Pfft. We were all useless, especially Eren.
ARMIN: Only the super old fans know this, but our very first song ever, track one on our debut album, was originally called “Pilot.”
EREN: Yes, like the fucking first episode of a show that doesn’t know if it’s gonna do well or some shit. It was not my idea.
JEAN: It was Eren’s idea.
MIKASA: I tried convincing them to name it something else, but they wouldn’t budge. I suggested just their band name and they said, “No, that’s too basic. We need something unique.” They didn’t change it until Scout Records told them to. And guess what they changed it to.
CONNIE: We changed the first song to “Heart Attack” in… let’s see, 2018 or somewhere close to that. 2019, maybe?
JEAN: Naming our first album “Debut” was Eren’s dumb ass idea, too. Uncreative prick.
EREN: No one else had any better ideas, so we just went with what I said by default. It’s not like anyone cared, anyway.
What can you tell me about Marco Bodt?
SASHA: Sorry, darling. I don’t know much about him other than he was the band’s first keyboardist.
Y/N: Just what Annie and everyone else told me way back when. I don't remember much.
MIKASA: Oh, I wasn’t around them enough at the beginning to know him. That was around the same time my mom had started getting me ready to take over the store, so I spent almost all of my free time with her.
ARMIN: I don’t really remember him. I had him in my Chemistry class before I dropped out. He was my table partner, I think. He was nice, though. We tutored each other sometimes. And, of course, he was over at Eren’s with us a lot.
CONNIE: I loved Marco, man. If you met him, you knew you had just met the sun. He always had such a bright outlook on everything. He was like Switzerland when we started arguing. And he always came up with the best compromises.
EREN: Marco was amazing. I felt bad all the time because he was always breaking up arguments. I have no clue why he was friends with us.
ARMIN: We were definitely annoying. It took a special kind of patience to deal with us, especially at that age. Marco always handled it so well, though. I think he and I would’ve ended up being much better friends if we were given the chance.
JEAN: Someone did their homework. You know about Marco? Course you do, you’re fucking [incoherent]. Uhm, Marco… God, I haven’t talked about him since he died. I don’t even think the really old fans know about him, to be honest. Well, Marco was . . . I think he was the first boy I ever loved.
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i'm so excited for this series you guys don't even know. i have so much planned and i hope you guys have as much fun reading it as i had writing it
TAGLIST: @arlerts-angel if you'd like to join the taglist please comment to let me know!
next part >>
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otterkitty · 12 hours ago
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In this house we love jäger x sieben toxic lesbian yaoi
Heavily inspired by this fanfic. Fic so good I could print it on paper and eat it (it's explicit fyi)
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jumexju · 8 months ago
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★ MAIN MASTERLIST
My masterlists are located at the bottom of this post, read rules stated below before requesting ! My request status can be viewed in my navigation !
NOTE !! : I write for a lot of diff characters (mentioned down below) & i might not be able to write frequently/fulfill asks too fast bcs im in my last year of hs so pls b patient ^^!
CW !! : I may write fics containing uncomfortable topics (depression, dissociation, SH, poverty, etc), If you're not comfortable with such things, don't read. (i include warnings at the beginning !)
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RULES !! :
I don't write problematic ships (proship, incest, etc.)
I will not write NSFW (soy menor de edad lol) & will not write suggestive stuff for characters who are minors. (i.e: megumi, denji..)
I write platonic, romantic + queerplatonic fics.
I write both chara x chara & chara x reader but i will not write chara x oc.
Reader is usually gender neutral (gn) unless I say otherwise.
I may take a while to complete requests as I'm busy + I wanna complete the req as best i can.
Do not translate/copy my works onto other platforms.
All of my original works are also on AO3.
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WHAT / WHO I WRITE FOR !! :
Death Note : Lawliet L, Amane Misa, Rem, Ryuk, Near, Mello, Mikami Teru & Kagami Taro.
Jujutsu Kaisen : Gojo Satoru, Okkotsu Yuuta, Fushiguro Megumi, Fushiguro Toji, Zen'in Maki, Itadori Yuji, Kamo Choso & Higuruma Hiromi. (Will not write for Sukuna under any circumstances srry)
Chainsaw Man : Denji, Mitaka Asa, Power, Higashiyama Kobeni & Hayakawa Aki. (Will not write for Makima nor Himeno, srry not srry)
Naruto : Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Senju Tobirama, Uzumaki Naruto, & Hatake Kakashi.
Genshin Impact : Ragnvindr Diluc, Alberich Kaeya, Xiao, Kunikuzushi/Scaramouche, Il Capitano, Il Dottore, & Arlecchino.
Black Butler : Sutcliff Grell & Undertaker.
Boku No Hero Academia : Shigaraki Tomura, Bubaigawara Jin/Twice & Todoroki Toya/Dabi.
Soul Eater : Black Star, Death The Kid, Death, Evans Soul, Albarn Maka, Franken Stein.
Yu-Gi-Oh ! : Kaiba Seto, Bakura Ryo, & Ishtar Marik.
Shingeki No Kyojin : Jäger Eren, Ackerman Mikasa, Arlert Armin, Ackerman Levi.
Angels of Death : Foster Isaac.
Creepypasta : Jeff The Killer, Ticci Toby & Laughing Jack.
Kimetsu No Yaiba : Shinazugawa Sanemi, Tomioka Giyu, Kokushibō / Tsugikuni Michikatsu.
Slashers : Michael Myers, Vincent Sinclair, Stu Macher.
tba..
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★.. DEATH NOTE
Incl. L, Misa, Near, Mello & Taro.
★.. JUJUTSU KAISEN
Incl. Satoru, Yuuta & Choso.
★.. CHAINSAW MAN
Incl. Denji.
★.. NARUTO
Incl. Madara, Sasuke, Naruto & Tobirama.
★.. MISCELLANEOUS
Incl. Characters that only have 1-2 works & works that contain various characters/works containing multiple characters in a single piece.
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★ NAVIGATION
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hats-all-de-hats · 8 months ago
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Now dats a preety hat! Goot touch vit de design, an appealink round brim dat hyu dun see too often. Hy can imagine a leetle touch ov Mechanicsburg on dat vit some skulls und trilobites, mebbe some thorns. Verra nize!
Hy iz only a leetle concerned iffen it vould go flyink off vit a run, or a shtrong breeze. Gots to vear it back a bit to show off de preety design, vhat happens iffen de vind catches it? Vell, de same hy guess fer any of de less secure or less practical hats ov mine brudders. Mamma gots de right hydea vit der chin strap, but hy guess hyu gots to have dat vhen hyu hat iz dat tall. But all de shakos, how does dey keep dem on...?
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A fun collaboration with Wild as Heck: The Roux hat! When designing this, I thought about what I would want to wear and came up with this bird + floral motif. I’m honored it bears my name! Photos are by Wild as Heck🌹
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