#jeankasaweek

[jeankasaweeks]

[game downloading...]

👾: Would you like to start?

Jeankasa Week 2025 is here but ⚠️STOP⚠️ we need your help!

Do you have any suggestions for our prompts this year? Scan the QR code or check this link to fill out the forms. This is open until JANUARY 25th.

[dawnrosheen]

Jeankasa week 2023 Day 1 & 2 Confession/Post-war

So, it's been a time you know... Many things happen in my life, my mon is terrible sick, I quit my job, then I get fired from the new one and now I am in stand by. But I still having to pay the bills and do the chores more than ever... SO, let's say that now I have COMMISSIONS OPEN again.Please, any help would be so fucking great!More info DM or you can check the link on my bio!

[mikatsuobushi]

Heads up, Jeankasa Tumblr Community!

Just a reminder that there will be a JEANKASA WEEK 2023 on June 5-11.

Here are the prompts for the event (which were voted last month on Twitter):

Can't wait to see and read your beautiful entries for our beloved ship! See you!!

Check out the event more on Twitter: @JeankasaWeeks

[luigitaa]

Entry for the #JeankasaHalloween by @JeankasaWeeks for Costumes I made it quickly so It's ugly, don't look at it for too long

I just can't stop thinking about the jeankasa and Morticia-Gomez Addams' vibes🖤

[oxygenbefore1775]

Cicatrix

for day 2 of jeankasaweek "post-war"

pairing: jean x mikasa

wc: 0.5k

summary: for the first time Mikasa lays eyes on Jean's scars left from the war

Until that day, his bare torso had remained veiled from her sight, unintentionally covered by the fabric of his shirt, the quilted cloth of the blanket or the night's shroud as they settled for sleep, making the unveiling all the more profound.

"Morning." A soft breath grazed at her hair as Jean greeted her with a peck to the temple. Yet Mikasa has been long awake before that, rolling to her side to meet his gaze, her eyes half-lidded in the morning bliss.

In the silence of the room they exchanged glances, a few moments of tranquility before the reality of the day sets in.

The night was humid and hot, leaving his skin barely covered by clothing. Jean was the first to break off his gaze, offering a gentle smile as he turned around and sat on the edge of the bed. It was then that she finally noticed.

Scars, like an intricate web, etched into his torso. The pale lifeless ridges in stark contrast against his sun-kissed skin, catching the light with each movement. Her heart swelled with emotion as Mikasa noticed more and more of them, digging into his flesh and denting it.

Her eyebrows furrowed at the morbid realization — all used to be wounds Jean acquired in battle. How painful they must have been at the moment, yawning and pulsing with blood. A hitched gasp gave her away since Jean turned his head to her, his eyes meeting her, a hint of awarness sparked in his eyes, followed by a twinge of vulnerability. He understood that she saw.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Mikasa shifted closer to him, her hand reached out tentatively. A sardonic smile painting his features, Jean gave her a nod, granting her the silent permission.

His skin felt warm and alive beneath her fingertips as she traced the ragged edges of his scars. Jean's body tensed with anticipation, his breath catching in his throat, as the delicate strokes sent shivers down his spine, raising goosebumps on his broad back. Mikasa's touch lingered at certain points, her mind wandering in attemot to guess the origin of each wound.

"Don't you have them as well?" Jean chuckled softly when he received a curt no in response. "No? I suppose you don't. Blows don't seem to land on an Ackerman."

"Don't say that," she rebuked, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

The warmth of their bodies pressing together, and Jean could feel her fluttering hearbeat against his back. With a soft sigh he leaned into the embrace. Her eye caught yet another cicatrix slashing his shoulder, and in an impulse movement she pressed her lips against the pearly skin.

Musing over the scars that bore the memory of pain and blood, Mikasa found solace in the blossoming relief within her. The end of the war had brought her a sense of comfort, knowing that the battles were finally behind them. There was no more loss that stretched its greedy claws out to her and what's dear to her.

As Mikasa lay her gaze upon the map of Jean's scars, she tried to etch each and every silvery blemish down into her memory. She knew that scars would always be a part of him just as her mental scars are a part of her. Yet, a profound sense of joy welled within her as she embraced the conclusion to that chapter in their young lives, where no more wounds would mar their skin.

[alysiusart]

“After the three years”

(If you want the shirtless version, go to Twt: @alysiusart )

[claudysummer]

Jeankasa Week 2021 – Royal AU

[jkbabies]

~hi guys!! would you mind sharing some of your favorite jeankasa arts, or artists perhaps? I currently have three favorite jeankasa artists: nekomama727 (twitter and pixiv), valmendy (IG, Tumblr, Twitter), and lorfa_lorfa (IG). They have very different styles, but they portray jeankasa in such unique and diverse ways and yet somehow, capture the essence of the ship, if that makes sense lol. Also, a special shout-out to the MAPPA interns who have been pushing for the jk agenda and literally carrying the entire fandom on their back/s 😭. Thank you so much for existing😭💗✨.

P.S. haven't moved on yet from the jk art that pwkj_cos made. If he ever make another one, or do it again and again, I might just be convinced to die while I still have it good😭

~also, jeankasa week is happening soon omgggggg. Fucking fangirl with me, people!! But if you didn't know yet, it's happening March 7 to March 13. Guess what it coincides with mehehehhee. Here are the prompts. I'm not sending you this to remind you to make something for that day, no I'm not. OMG stoppppp. I'm nOT!! Okay, maybe you should do it. I'm not forcing you,,,, but you should.

Okay. I'm done talking smack. I'm thirsty. Drink your water, and know that you're hot and a fucking meal so don't ever settle for someone who thinks you're just some typa dessert they can go to for comfort during the bad days. You're not just the last resort to feel better, do you hear me?? You're the fucking necessary daily sustenance. Okay byeeee

#jeankaokaystupidmeforgotthehashtagsdontworkthisway

[keith-al]

#jeankasaweek: Day 1: Hair ↳ wind in her hair . so close to thee

« Black is the color of my true love’s hair. » 

[yimena-joy]

#JeanKasaWeek // JeanKasa Week // Day 1: Hair -*-*-*- You remember? when we met for first time and you said that my hair was beautiful. since this day I started love my hair... and you too obviously! 💜 -*-*-*- Original Drawing by: Yimena joy. Original Characters by: Hajime Isayama.

[jeankasaweeks]

🤖POLL ALERT!🤖

After curating your responses, we present you the whooping 84 prompts to choose and 36 spicy choices for NSFW for Jeankasa Week 2025!

Answer this forms for our final JK Week prompt list. This will be open until FEBRUARY 14, 2025. Choose the best!

[dawnrosheen]

All my contributions for the jeankasaweek of this year!

I have commissions open, so if you wanna know more about it feel free to send me a direct message nwn

[omniswords]

Learning by Doing [Jean Kirschtein/Mikasa Ackerman] [JeanKasa Week 2014]

so I guess I???? did this for jeankasa week? it wasn't meant to be, it was something done on a whim thanks to i-really-heichou but it turned out to fit today's prompt, firsts, so A+ us. based on that one viral video where strangers had to kiss each other and junk.

His slot was at three o'clock exactly, and he got there five minutes before, palms sweating and fingers ever tipping the beanie on his head off-kilter, as though he'd kept forgetting it was there at all. It was a kiss, the director, a man named Levi with a few inches lacking and a half-sour expression, had told him when they met for an interview in the university cafe. It was for some advertising scheme, or a master's project, he couldn't remember now. There wasn't really anything to remember except the fact that he'd never kissed a girl before. A boy, sure--two of them, even, if he counted the one time he and Eren had gotten stupidly drunk together--but never a girl.

Sometimes he wondered if it was much different--there were still the lips on lips, the hesitant hands, never quite knowing when to pull apart, always learning the ebb and flow by doing. But kissing Marco in high school broom closets was different from kissing Eren in a drunken stupor was different from kissing a girl he probably didn't know, probably would never see again.

"Do you plan on staying out there the whole time? The lighting's better in here."

Jean looked up to find Levi, who was tapping his foot impatiently against the tile from behind the camera, and mumbled an apology as he shuffled into the studio with his hands jammed into his pockets. And there was the girl, sitting on the other side of the studio with her legs crossed and her hair curtaining her cheeks, fingers curled around a mobile phone. It wasn't until he took a few more steps and Levi cleared his throat to get her attention that he thought perhaps he recognized her. He didn't think he'd ever seen her with her hair down, apart from the dark apron and the metallic tag that bore her name. Mikasa Ackerman. Sometimes he tested it on his tongue and it settled comfortably, like it was strangely meant to be there.

He decided to hazard a guess as she approached him, her heels clicking against the polished wood. "You work in the library cafe," he said, cursing his voice for cracking. "In the mornings, right? You look... different."

She raised an eyebrow, eyes darkening--with excitement or sarcasm, he couldn't quite tell--as he held out a hand. "Nice to see you've fine-tuned your sense of object permanence."

He winced, shaking it gingerly, dropping it like he'd been burnt. "I'm Jean. Um. Kirschtein."

"I know."

He blinked. "You do?"

"You order the same sandwich every time you come down to study. Wouldn't be surprised if you were pissing buffalo and ranch by now," she deadpanned, and when Jean paled and tossed a glance to the camera for help he saw Levi cover his mouth with a hand.

He swallowed and tried again. "So... we're supposed to kiss?" Oh, God. He was supposed to kiss her. His first time kissing a girl, Mikasa Ackerman, and she probably thought he smelled like her job.

She hummed in agreement, fingers twisted in the folds of her suspender skirt, something strangely reserved about it. "For this project my cousin has, or something."

He might have dropped his jaw had the resemblance not hit him in time, and he composed himself and nodded so much he thought his beanie might fall off again. "So do we just, uh, go?" He stumbled over his words. Just--just go? Now? Do it now?

"We can switch you out for someone else," Levi said, equal parts taunting and irritated, probably for lack of substance. "I said you had to be strangers, after all."

"We might as well be," Mikasa cut in, folding her arms and tossing Levi a glare. "I'm kissing this one."

Levi lifted his hands in mock surrender, as if insisting that she go ahead, and when she turned back Jean could swear there was a glint of something in her eyes. Resolution? Attraction? He couldn't really tell. All this, and still not knowing what he was supposed to do, and when, where his hands were supposed to go, whether it was supposed to be gentle or firm, or--

She pressed a thumb to his lips, tugged him closer by his wrist, until his hand was settled uncertainly on his waist. "You're thinking too much," she murmured more gently than he expected, resting slender, pale fingers on his jaw. The glint was back, softer than he remembered, and she looked at him as if to guide him, as though something had tipped her off. She didn't seem to have any more words, only lowered lashes and barely puckered lips and the heady air between them when she leaned a little closer on the balls of her feet, leading and encouraging at once. He nearly forgot to close his eyes when their lips finally touched once, twice, again, when she gave him permission to melt into her.

It had none of the closet darkness, no mess of tongues or clacking of teeth; she was gentle and fierce in turns, teaching and reveling as she settled on her heels. It was as though he could feel fire licking at his skin, seeping into muscle and bone and growing in intensity with every second her fingers flitted over his chest, his shoulders, the back of his neck, leading him down until he couldn't conceive a possible return or separation. She only parted from him long enough to sigh against his mouth, tangling her fingers in his hair and tightening her grip when he had the sense to press his palms to her back and swipe his tongue across the seam of her lips. And she invited him in, bending into his touch, shivering at the brush of his fingers against her skin, gasping when he finally took hold of her face and pushed against her.

She kept him in place with the one-two-three of gentle pecks, eyes half-lidded and bottom lip caught between her teeth, head tilted upward with the lax curl of his finger under her chin. "Oh," she said, the word seemingly caught in her throat like a broken sigh.

"Oh." His shoulders heaved with a sigh of his own, hands only reaching to straighten her hair and clothes--had he done that?--before they slowly receded. So that was it. That was all there was to it, and he was going to walk out of here with experience and maybe one less shred of dignity. Levi gave a single nod from behind the camera, almost smiling, and Jean stiffened, thanking him--of all things, thanking him--before he bolted out of the studio. So maybe he would have to start getting his sandwiches somewhere else. Maybe he'd have to scout out a different part of the library.

He barely noticed the click-clack of footsteps behind him, and he jumped at the tap on his shoulder. He found Mikasa standing behind him with her hands behind her back, faced barely flushed as she cast her gaze to the floor. "You forgot this," she said, holding up his beanie, and before he could thank her she'd already turned on her heel and click-clacked all the way back down the hall.

A folded scrap of paper dropped to the floor when he up-ended the hat, and when he knelt to pick it up, the neat script betrayed a name and phone number to him. His stomach lurched at the message at the bottom.

Next sandwich is on the house.

[luigitaa]

Entry for the #JeankasaHalloween by

@JeankasaWeeks

Tried a goth/witchcraft kinda thing with hs castes bc I'm obssessed with them lately

[oxygenbefore1775]

Peal of Thunder

for day 1 of jeankasaweek "rainy day"

pairing: jean x mikasa

wc: 2.2k

summary: seeking warmth after being caught in the downpour

a/n: more like "stormy day" or "rain not being central to the story at all" or "watch me pathetically try to play it down to the given prompt in the end" but i digress; also idky but i made mikasa a bit uneasy with thunder, guess it's from the memory of the day her parents were taken away from her

The rain caught them in the lushness of an open field — cold heavy droplets on their skin, bringing them out of the pools of each other's eyes. Not long after, the downpour grew heavier, with walls of water landing on their bodies. The sounds of thunder rolled off in the distance, sealing the end of their short-lived respite in nature.

The deceiving morning heat left them with nothing but lightweight summer clothes on, now transformed into translucent films clinging to their skin. Another minute in this violent rainstorm would surely soak them and leave them shivering to their bones. Although a single coat that one of them had thought of taking would hardly provide sufficient shelter, let alone for both of them, there was determination in Jean's motions as he draped it over their shoulders. His voice faded into the cascades of the downpour — she could only surmise that he was urging their swift departure, and soon enough, they headed towards home.

A shadow of a smile played on Mikasa's lips as she watched Jean squint his eyes and furrow his eyebrows, struggling to see even a stone's throw ahead of him. The felt of his fedora grew sodden, heavy with water, rendering it useless. The evidence of this was clear, with streams running down his face. Yet, the sight lulled within her a weird sense of security. Surrounded by the cool wet fabric all around, except for the side where his body pressed against hers, it brought her comfort amid the hostile rage of the elements.

Mikasa intercepted his movements, gently taking the lead, "Surely, not this way." Despite the comforting presence of Jean by her side, she yearned to escape the tumultuous symphony of roaring thunder and the blinding flashes of lightning that tore the sky apart. She wanted to get away.

Guided by her, they swiftly reached their cabin, but the speed bore little significance as every inch of their bodies was drenched long before catching a glimpse of shelter from afar. Droplets of water trailed after them to the couch, leaving wet spots on the upholstery that grew as they collapsed onto the couch. With cold stiff fingers Mikasa reached for the buttons on her dress while Jean crouched in front of the fireplace.

The crackling of burning wood drowned the sounds of the rain against the window glass yet the thunder could still reach her acute hearing, although it was significantly lower in its roars. Her mind wandering, Mikasa carded her fingers through the wet tussles of her hair, feeling the dampness cling to her fingertips, while her gaze fixated on the shadow that Jean's broad frame cast on the floor.

"It will take some time for the room to heat up," he muttered, rolling the sopping cloth of his shirt off his shoulders. "I'll go put the kettle on. Maybe some tea will get us warm quicker."

She smiled shyly at the proposition but couldn't resist catching his hand as Jean was about to leave. "My mother used to draw me a bath whenever I was cold, so I'll do just that." Giving his palm a gentle squeeze, her gaze locked with his.

Jean's eyes softened as he met her glance, "Alright, you go first then." With that, he brought her palm close to his lips, leaving a kiss on her knuckles and ready to go to the kitchen again. Yet, she didn't let go of him.

Her other arm slid down his shoulder, still damp and covered in goose bumps. "You're freezing too," she insisted. The glint in her eyes took an alluring spark. "And the tub's big enough for the two of us."

The obvious request froze on her tongue and never fell past her lips. As she was looking down, she didn't notice how he reached for her face, pulling a strand away from her face. "If that's what you want, then with pleasure. Besides, we're already soaked from head to toe." An endearing smile found its way onto Jean's lips.

As the rain clattered against the windows in the distance and the inviting heat of the bathtub enveloped her cool skin, Mikasa reveled in the touch of his embrace. By lifting her arm under the surface and submerging it again into the soapy water, she let droplets fall from her palm, echoing the rain outside. She welcomed the warmth that bloomed in her chest and grew with each second she felt her back against his chest and his hot breath searing the shell of her ear. All that lulled her into sleep yet she forced her eyes to stay open for she wanted to be awake through each moment of it.

"My mother also drew me baths," Jean mused in a hushed tone, as if his voice threatened to shatter the tender silence in the bathroom, "though mine often had bubbles added to it."

The rumble of thunder echoed through the air, swallowing his last words in its mighty roar, sending a shiver down Mikasa's spine. She shook off the trepidation, determined to find solace in their conversation and a refuge from the foreboding storm. "Do you wish that our bath had bubbles right now?"

There was no pause following her words and he picked up with a resolute tone. "No." Without hesitation, Jean's arm reached forward, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Otherwise I won't see all of you just as I am seeing you right in this moment. Every part of you."

"Jean." The flush burned at the tips of her ears as she remained motionless. The mix of emotions washed over her, the flattery tinged with uneasiness. It was what she had come to expect from her husband, yet it still caught her off guard every time. Each unwarranted praise and compliment stirred a struggle deep within her, as if she should respond in kind, showering him with the same vocal affection he bestowed upon her. But the words eluded her, slipping through her fingers like streams of water. Her chest burned yet the cause for it remained unknown to her, be it the heat rising from the tub or Jean's words.

At a loss of meaningful phrases, Mikasa gingerly lifted his palm towards her face. She pressed her lips against his blushed knuckles, leaving a soft cascade of kisses on his damp skin. In that moment a subtle thought crossed her mind — perhaps she should feel greedy, almost demanding. To want more of his lavish affection and the cherished moments of intimacy that Jean would bestow upon her, no doubt about that.

Gentle patter of rain served as a soothing background, uniting in its repetitivness with her shallow breaths and the rhythmic thuds of his heart. "I saw your eyes lit up each time the lightning struck," Jean spoke again, seemingly out of breath. Was she leaning against him with such a force that robbed him of air? "Does the thunder remind you of something?"

The question left Mikasa perplexed, her lips parting as she delved deep in her thoughts, searching for an answer. Her restlessness during these violent outbursts of the nature persisted throughout the years yet she never pondered the cause of it. After all, the thundersorms were a rare occurence on Paradis so she wouldn't be haunted by their fearsome roars to a significant extent. A fleeting memory of stormy days from her early childhood appeared in her mind and she allowed it to play further. Try as she might, she couldn't recall the feeling of fear from that recollection. When she was still living in the forest on the outskirts of Shiganshina there was no fear. It was only after she moved in with the Yeagers that the fear began spring up — that much she knew.

Mikasa lightly shook her head in response, the tightening sensation at her temples threatening to break out into a migraine should another thought of those days visit her. "I..." she murmured, trying to find purchase for her wandering mind.

"For me, it's the memory of thunder spears," Jean interjected, gently prying her mind away from the painful reminiscense, "of the time when we still got to use them. When we had to fight."

Mikasa coudn't see his face yet her imagination painted a vivid image of the shadows weighing down his features, the crease between his eybrows growing deeper with the weight of the memories. "At each peal of the real thunder I can't help but to recall their heaviness in my arms and on my back. How they tremble in my grip right as I'm about to launch them." A sigh, barely noticable by her acute hearing, rolled past his lips and brushed against her nape. "The adrenaline rush after each time I got the target right."

Tone of sour nostalgia crawled into his voice, but Mikasa would lie if she denied the same hold that the memory of the thunder spears had over her. As if caught up on their reminiscing, a peal of thunder rolled off in the distance. This time, it indeed sounded like the release of explosives in the missile.

"I am still not sure if this is a pleasant connection in my mind. Those were good times yet we were always living on the edge of life and death back then."

The silence filled the room again as Mikasa was pondering his words. There was some undeniable allure in the memory of the days long gone — before the war, before the fall of the walls. She herself quite often sought refuge in the past, the sweetness of those recollections too blissfull to return from all that easily. Nonetheless, the joy was tainted by the pain that followed suit like a clockwork. As invitingly pleasant as the nostalgia was, it inevitably closed off with the sorrowful memories, remainder of the price that they all had to pay for the chance for this world to draw another breath.

Her mind robbed of its capacity to think such dreadful thoughts no longer, her body instead became acutely aware of each and every sensation she was reveling in. The billowy steam enveloping her face, its gentle touch leaving tiny water droplets glistening on her skin, indistinguishable from the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. The tight hold Jean's hands had on hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. The smell of soap and earthy fragrance of rain still clinging to the tussels of her hair filling the room and fogging up her mind in the most delectable way. The mix of those made her thoughts adrift, lost in bliss her current position bestowed upon her. And it was a welcome one, the one Mikasa was openly relishing and ready to express with zeal.

As her resolve grew, her voice echoed through the air, thick with steam and fragrance. "I suppose it's alright, the way you feel," she concluded, "past can hurt just as much as it can uplift but—"

With that, she positioned her arms at the either side of the bathtub for the purchase lifting herself out of the soapy water. Droplets cascading down the glistening skin of her toned body, she turned around so that she was facing Jean. Her palms quickly found their place at his shoulders as she settled herself back into his embrace.

Despite the heat of the room, somehow even more flush managed to dust across Jean's face, beading with sweat, "Mikasa." Yet with no hesitation to his movements, he snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He tilted his head back to meet her gaze seeing as now she was towering over him.

The pitter-patter of rain echoed off in the distance.

"But as this day would end," Mikasa whispered, her warm breath brushing against Jean's features, "It'd be the only thing I'd like to associate the sounds of thunder with." A spark ignited in her eyes as she found herself being pulled deeper into the pools of his gaze.

You she silently mouthed to Jean.

As the downpour washed the outside world, the air in the bathroom came to a halt, rendering their bodies motionless as well. The distance between their mouths almost non-existent, hitched breaths fanning against each other's lips and lingering gazes full of soft silent promise. With a surge of insolence, Jean closed off the miniscule gap between their lips, sealing off the confession in a tender kiss.

The sensation of their entwined bodies, the softness to their breaths and the intoxicating warmth of their embrace — they hoped that all of it etched in their memory. Moments later, they found themselves laying together in the living room, fully dry and enveloped in the comforting warmth of the space. Mikasa's head rested on Jean's chest, her ear attuned to the soothing sounds of the ongoing rain outside. In the tranquility of the moment, they allowed themselves to melt into the atmosphere of the evening, finding solace and peace in each other's presence.

[104thvoicesquad]

"I have something I want to tell you."

[x] Mikasa                    [x] Jean

Remember that time we were going to do the confession prompt but Sahar got strep throat and couldn't get it done on time?

WE FIXED IT.