#mr arlert

[moonspirit]

Hi! I'm the same Anon who asked about the hypothetical situation of Annie NOT crystalising herself and the other possible set of events occurring. I read your thoughts and I honestly never even thought about another Kenny and Annie reunion and just.. talking, quite interesting! (Not to mention Pam's own idea that they wrote - I like it!) Including another mentioning a fic where Annie sees her Dad as a Titan during the second Colossal Titan attack and.. I may had a pretty devious idea. So, let's say Annie did in some way join the Scouts (or just is betraying the Warriors,) so during the mission to retake Shinganshina and there's the scene where Zeke & the mindless Titan's appear, what if one of those mindless creatures was her Dad? (This next part, I'm somewhat iffy since it really feels I mis-characterised her since I tend to mess up, so my apologies!) I'm not sure HOW it could play out then, maybe Annie in some desperate attempt to hold her Dad down so it's not mauled by Levi or Zeke. Though, one thing is clear, she sees the Colossal Titan going down and realises that in some selfish way.. she could bring her Dad back, it'll be a curse he'll bare too but at least she'll see him. And oh.. That's Armin. Completely charred, yet still breathing. With the Scouts debating whenever to save Erwin or Armin. This is all I have before I genuinely write more nonsense, I appreciate taking your time to answer my previous question. Please, have a lovely day! (AND I'M SO SORRY FOR HOW WORDY THIS IS)

Oohhhh hello again anon! I'm honestly so relieved you saw my answer because you sent me the ask on sept 19th and... I took nearly a month to answer - very sorry T^T But I enjoyed it so much and yes, the variety of thoughts on it have been incredibly interesting!

Some quick things first tho 1. you don't have to apologise for a long-ask, they are genuinely enjoyable xD 2. I don't think there's such a thing as mis-characterization especially when we talk about a completely new what-if scenario because there's soooooo many little things influencing a person's thoughts and actions and the resultant outcomes. So nope, there are only headcanons, they are all valid, and you don't need to worry about anything else :>

Now to your ask!

🙃

How dare you now bring THREE contenders for the serum with Annie in the mess? Erwin, I don't see her caring for, but now it's Armin vs. her Dad?

What in the gut-wrenching angst is this, holy shit anon 🥲

But no, genuinely I don't think Annie trying to protect her father from Levi's attacks is out of character for her. That is her DAD. She may have joined the Scouts as you say, but maybe that's because it's her best chance for survival. Betraying the warriors isn't Annie's concern, it's betraying her dad. At any cost, even by joining the scouts, she must return to him.

Only, she probably didn't expect to see him in Paradis, and as a titan no less.

Of course she's abandoning everything else (let's say she doesn't know of Armin's plan) and rushing to protect her father and get him out of the line of fire - perhaps by taking him down in her titan form and dragging him to safety, using her scream to summon other pure titans to whoever is attacking and using the time to do so.

(wait... now I suddenly have the mental picture of Annie and Zeke engaging in a screaming match 🥲)

Her sudden switch in priorities isn't likely to bode well with the others, especially when so much is happening and the Scouts find themselves in a dangerously cornered pinch.

Annie's very good at analyzing a situation and quickly making problem-solving decisions, given two options, she chooses the one in which she has a greater chance of survival (yet sometimes she also willingly walks in to dead ends thanks to her heart, but that's canon). Like leaving Marco on the roof vs saving him, but now..... now we have an extreme situation.

Say she thought immediately crosses her mind - of feeding her father the colossal once she learns it's been taken down. She may not have become attached to Bertholdt as much as she considered him a companion in their mission and someone from home, but he's still... a companion. A fellow warrior.

How do you feed such a person to your father?

And then of course:

That's Armin. Completely charred, yet still breathing.

How do you save your father at the cost of losing the one boy who makes your heart beat faster than the wind?

The one boy you swore you'd protect, as long as you wore the wings of freedom by his side.

The one boy who's looked you in the eyes and said I love you.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

[floorworm]

Can we talk abt how Armins parents were pretty much confirmed to be the balloon couple from what I've seen? Like they longed for the world outside and it got them killed. And still Armin carried that will with him for the rest of his life??

Ok so like, in the manga Armin states his parents died in the effort to retake wall Maria with the refugees as impromptu soldiers (which was really all an effort to thin the population out by sending them to die but whatever not important right now) however in the anime (which is the canon im choosing to go by since it's the most recent and stuff) this was changed to his grandfather dying.

The character encyclopedia also states his parents were killed for trying to leave the walls, so like, yeah they're the balloon couple.

BUT CAN WE ACTUALLY DISCUSS THAT???

Like do you think he ever got to know what happened to his parents?? Or was he just told "aw yeah they died sorry"

Do you think he asked to come with them? Do you think he waited for them to get back home, and they never did?

He would've probably lost his parents around the same time Mikasa did, but nobody ever brings it up?????

[evermined]

[idontthinkimokaymentally]

Hello there Mr. Arlert fans.

[gabriellessworldd]

Do i make you nervous?

shy, nerdy Armin x bold black fem reader

wc- 1.4k!

☆ warnings ☆: js a lil smth for my armin girlies! very light smut nth too crazy 18+, oral (f receive, you sit on his face 😛), armin is obsessed with you, so when you asked him to be your tutor he thanked his lucky stars.

"Excuse me, Miss L/n, could you stay after class, there's a pressing matter." your chemistry professor Mrs. Clark announced whilst sending you a look after she graded your assignment. "Yea i'll stay." you mumbled opening up your macbook, checking the damage, '13% no. fucking. way.' sure you weren't the best student but it was never this bad.

Class was finally over and honestly you wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and take a long ass nap. "Miss L/n, don't keep me waiting! Come here please." honestly you didn't want to hear what she had to say, but if you wanted to pass this class you would have to work your ass off. "Yes ma'am, what's the matter?" you were trying to be polite and sweet so maybe she'd have mercy on you but, that plan didn't work.

After 25 minutes of her lecturing you about your grades, she finally offered some help. "I would suggest you get a tutor, it could give you that extra push you need. Hearing the same stuff from me everyday clearly isn't helping you." She looks at you and shrugs, "You can see yourself out now, enjoy your afternoon." As much as she annoyed you, your professor was right, and you had the perfect tutor in mind.

Armin Arlert. Not only was he smart as fuck but he also had a gorgeous face. It made perfect sense, if that pretty boy had been teaching you chemistry you probably would've had perfect attendance and 100's on all your assignments. You saw him walking off campus and rushed after him, you weren't sure if he would help, but what's the harm in asking?

"Hey Armin!" he turned around looking for who was calling him then he spotted you waving him down. 'is y/n looking for me?' he felt his stomach do an olympic level gymnastic routine (😜) and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was captivated by you, there was just something so perfect about you. The way you laughed, your voice, your beautiful eyes, your entire being had him enthralled.

He walked over to you, "h-hey y/n" he tried not to get too nervous but the small voice crack gave him away. "hi! i was wondering if you could do me a favor?" you batted your eyelashes and smiled brightly. "o-oh! y-yea of course, what's the matter?" he said it almost too quickly, Armin was just glad he could talk to you. You studied his face, it was perfect, the way his glasses sat on his face, the pink tint on his lightly freckled cheeks, even his pink plump lips. 'wait, why is he blushing?' you smiled at the thought, this would be so easy.

"s-so you need m-me to tutor y-you?" he stumbled over his words, an hour and thirty minutes alone with you, luck really was on his side today. "Yup, that's it! Think we could start today?" you checked the time, it was 3:47. "You could come to my house now if you're free! There aren't any distractions and it would be just me nd you!" There was no way Armin was turning this down, "yes that works for me." 'fuck yea i finally made it through a sentence without stuttering' he smiled softly showing his teeth, and your knees nearly buckled.

You opened your door, the scent of vanilla and strawberries clouded Armin. Your place was comfy nd clean, "You can sit at the table over there, I need to shower quickly if you don't mind!" He nodded his head 'i can't believe im in y/n's house right now' he pulled out his textbook nd laptop, not that he would really need it.

"Thank you so much for waiting!" you walked out of your room in your pj's and matching house slippers. "You want anything to drink? I've got dr pepper, pineapple fanta, nd water." Armin watched you walk to the kitchen, your small shorts shrinking with every step, "u-uhm dr pepper is fine. thanks." You sat back down with the two drinks, your boobs bounced slightly in your exposed cheetah print push up bra. you noticed Armin's face heat up and slightly turn pink, you decided to tease him.

you leaned over the table and showing more cleavage and placed your hand on his arm, "Do you mind explaining this to me? I don't get it" Armin tried not to make eye contact with you and took a sip of his drink, but when he finally gave in your seductive eyes almost killed him. He choked on the dr pepper, "um y-yea it's dea-" "Wait.. do i make you nervous?" you cut him off, not caring about chemistry anymore, that assignment could wait.

You scooted closer to Armin and leaned in close to his face, "you're a very pretty boy Armin, did you know that?" You looked at his lips and back at his eyes, "n-no I've ne-never-" You went to kiss him and he immediately took the chance. His soft hands instantly squeezed your tits, and you ran your fingers through his soft blonde hair. The kiss was sweet but it was also passionate, it felt desperate like you both needed more. Armin slid down the straps to your top and bra, freeing your boobs. His soft hands pinched and rolled your nipples, you softly moaned into his mouth and he slipped his tongue in. But he still wanted more.

Armin pulled away from the kiss, face flushed and cheeks red, with a light sheen on his lips from your lip gloss. He lowered his mouth to your right nipple, slipping it in while still playing with the left. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, tugging at his locks. Armin left hickeys all over your chest, wanting to mark you, he needed to know that this wasn't a deluded dream and that you were right there letting him touch you. He looked up at you while sliding your tit out of his mouth with a pop, "c-can we go to your room?" his face was filled with lust, he looked so divine. "of course" you stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him to your room. Armin was anxious obviously, but the was something he needed.

You laid in your bed with your legs propped up on Armin's shoulders as he sloppily ate you out. "Fuck Armin! right there please!" He sucked on your clit, he needed you to cum, he wanted to taste how sweet you were. "o-oh fuck armin, mmhm, right there" He came up, his lips covered in your arousal, " I want you to cum in my mouth y/n." He went back to sucking your clit, you felt a familiar pressure build up in the lower half of your stomach,"a-ah mm armin. That feels soo good!" You could feel yourself about to unravel as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon y/n, c-cum for me, please." he felt you pulse on his tongue and pull his hair, he started getting sloppier.

Your thighs squeezed his head as you felt your high coming. "ah Armin 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out as he sucked on your clit, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed, mouth dangling open. You felt yourself squirt and looked down at Armin watching him lick up everything.

"Can, can you s-sit on my f-face?" He wanted you to say yes, he needed you to say yes. You looked at him puzzled, "You want me, to sit on your face?" "Yes. please y/n." You nodded your head at the blonde, Armin quickly sat down, laying down fully when he saw you stand over him. You straddled his face, not fully sitting down all the way. "Y/n sit down all the way please, I promise I'll be alright." You listened and sat down.

"o-oh fuck armin, oh my god please!" his nose rubbed your sensitive clit as he continued tongue fucking you, his groans vibrated against your core. He loved the way you moaned, it sounded so heavenly, it was his new favorite sound. You needed more, you started to slowly grind on his face, "c-can you go faster y/n please." You picked up the pace, his tongue worked wonders, it was like Armin knew exactly what you liked. "a-ah Armin! 'm too sensitive, gonna cum again" You were on cloud nine, his tongue continued the ravaging pace. "c-cum for me sweetheart." The overstimulation and sloppy licks to your clit drove you over the edge "Fuck! ah Armin!" your vision went clouded as you came down from your high. Armin was satisfied, this was all he needed, to taste every bit of you.

a/n ☆: hiiii my lovebugs!! firstly i js wanna say i'm so grateful for all the interaction with "Never get yo bitch back!" also next part will be coming soon! lmk if y'all wanna get tagged in my future projects!! (y'all like the color switch for different characters or js keep pink?)

-with lots of love, gabrielle <3

[kazutora-kurokawa]

I thought it'd be a cute idea to do like a Baji x reader but it's your guy's wedding day/night after :)

Baji x Reader: Wedding Bells

♡ SFW, fem reader, pure fluff, mentions of some the rest of the tokrev characters, set in the final timeline ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon, this was a super cute idea 🩷 I was feeling fluffy today so yeah, no smut lol

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💍 Baji 100% believes in the wedding dress superstition, he refuses to enter the room while you're getting ready, he'd prefer to be surprised when you walk down the aisle anyway

💍 Mitsuya designed your wedding dress (just like he did for Hina) and it was exquisite, he also knows Baji is superstitious so he doesn't mention the dress when he's around

💍 Chifuyu and Tora are his groomsmen and they tease him the whole day because he's nervous, but they're also nervous though because they have to give a toast after the ceremony and they don't wanna ruin you and Baji's special day

💍 Baji cries when you walk down the aisle, he just thinks you look like an angel, the absolute picture of perfection

💍 Taiju is the priest (shocking I know) and is so calm and cordial during the ceremony, he even stops talking when he notices you or Baji getting emotional (probably gives a supportive pat on the back too)

💍 Draken and Mikey are in the front row next to Baji's mom and all three of them are crying like babies and don't even start on Michi because he's absolutely bawling his eyes out, he can't help but remember him and Hina's wedding and he gets so emotional

💍 Mikey stops crying as soon as you and Baji cut the wedding cake (honestly same)

💍 He stays close to your side the entire night, he's almost afraid to let you go because the moment is so perfect he swears he's dreaming

💍 Hanma is y'all wedding photographer and surprisingly gets the best shots, he spends the whole day photographing everyone in the room and catching them off guard

💍 You go to throw the bouquet and Mikey catches it 😭 he throws it back to you so you can throw it again though

💍 You and Baji's first dance is the cutest thing ever, you step on his feet a few times and he jokes with you the entire dance

💍 He spends the rest of the night referring to you as his wife and Mrs. Baji, he's cocky about it too

💍 Even though he comes off as cocky he's slightly insecure, sometimes a thought creeps in that he's not deserving of being your husband, but every kiss you give him and every smile directed at him reassures him that you're all his and you love him

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

[moonspirit]

Do u think Mr Leonhart will ever do something to Annie again? And if he did how would people react.

Idk why but I can see Annie post cannon trusting her farther again completely, possibly to the point of living with him straight away,and getting hurt. Going to the shared house one day late at night, visibly hurt badly bruised eye. They take her in ask her what happened and she doesn’t say anything.

How would they react if her farther starts shouting at her in front of them? Or even raises his hand at her? Who will be the one to step in front of her, who will she go to when scared?

(Please go into detail I love your writing)

Hello anon! Sorry I've taken a little while to answer :3

I think the question of whether Mr. Leonhardt will "physically" hurt Annie again is one that depends on the facts and circumstances of their relationship post-rumbling. If we assume, as in common interpretation, that Mr. Leonhardt is a changed man after losing Annie for so many years, then it would certainly be blood-curdling if he reverts to using violence on her again. However, not entirely shocking, given his past.

So let's entertain this idea. You know, it may not be that Annie "trusts" her father completely now that they're united, but more that she's so happy to have him alive and return to him at all, considering that was her only (and initial) goal. (Whether what she gets out of this father-daughter relationship actually makes her happy is a whole other matter). This could see her not expecting to be at the receiving end of his anger and physical rage anymore - so when it happens, she takes the full blow, caught unaware and too shocked to block him out of fear that she'll hurt him again like she hurt his knee.

Because he's her father and they're both alive - she can't possibly do anything to hurt him anymore.

Although, abusive parental relationships are quite hard to get out of; they tend to keep a vice grip on you because of that very aspect of it - it's a parental relationship. A parent. Your very own parent. Not just anybody, your parent.

Although, when shit hits the fan and it happens that the others witness Annie either being physically hurt, or returning home carrying the signs of it, or being yelled at with shaking fists - it's not going to be pleasant.

See, post-canon Annie lives with a family of five, not including her father. These are Armin, Pieck, Reiner, Jean and Connie, the latter four of whom grow to see Annie as a sister-figure, however much she scowls at them. I like to think the Alliance six are fiercely protective of one another.

For them to see someone like Annie, who they knew in the past for being fearsome, strong and unyielding, actively letting herself get hurt and beaten and injured... by the hands of somebody she only wanted to seek some love from...

Guaranteed, there's not a person that won't see red.

As for who will step to shield her from incoming attacks, I think Reiner or Jean (or both). They have good reflexes, both capable of overpowering any man, even if that man is just crippled, like Mr. Leonhardt now. Not to say Armin can't overpower him. Just that I don't see him being the one to push back; he's more likely to rush to Annie's aid along with Pieck & Connie.

Pieck is the one to take Annie in and help her out of her clothes and into clean pyjamas or big, loose shirts. She'll help her wash her face and hold ice to her swollen cheek.

And lastly, Armin will be the one to put his gentle hands over a decade's worth of trauma and pain, being Annie's rock henceforth, going to work in pulling out the needles stuck all over her body and replacing them with soft, red, threads soaked with his love.

[amywritesthings]

seven days. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: armin arlert x gn!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: Armin gets bamboozled into joining the annual Yeager family beach vacation — and accidentally meets you.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), beach house, summer vacation, eventual romance, alcohol, partying, Armin deserves a romcom, Eren & Zeke have zero braincells Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. | masterlist

“Zeke, you Point Break bitch, did you steal my boogie board?!”

Ah, yes. 

If he was looking for a week of tranquility and peace, then Armin Arlert should have declined the invitation to join the Yeager family for their annual summer vacation.

Time and time again, Eren has begged his best friend to tag along.

As far as he's aware, this has been a family tradition ever since his best friend was a toddler.

One week, the same week, every single year.

Not to mention it's the same beach house merely two blocks away from the boardwalk and sandy shores.

Home away from home.

It’ll be amazing!

(Eren likes to claim.) 

There is so much sick shit we can do!

(His words, not Armin’s.)

You’re gonna sit on your ass and read anyway, so why not do it by a beach?

(...okay, maybe that sold him.)

Then again, nothing is more humbling than standing with your duffle bag in one hand, filled to the brim with ‘maybe’ shirts and ‘just in case’ medicines, and your pillow in another while the Yeager family chaotically dissolves into a panicked army of four battling to even get to said beach in one piece.

Chaos.

It’s their collective middle name.

“Armin, sweetie, do you want any snacks for the road?”

Carla Yeager — doting mother figure and matriarch of the family.

She’s the reason they’re taking two cars this year, too afraid she may forget something important at home.

From fresh tangerines to a plethora of board games, she’s thought of it all.

Shuffling his bag to give his hands some equal soreness — ouch, that's freaking heavy — Armin offers an apologetic smile.

“No, Mrs. Yeager, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“How many times do I need to tell you to call me Carla?” 

Every time, actually.

Although Zeke very easily calls his stepmother by her first name, Armin can't bring himself to do it.

Blah, blah, raised a certain way by his ever-traditional grandfather, blah.

The awkward blonde merely nods once and watches as Carla shuffles by to throw another box of napkins into the trunk.

“Here,” she gestures, waving her arms while she’s in front of the hatchback, “that looks bulky.” 

It is, but he’s a kindred spirit in the name of overpacking.

“I can find a spot for it,” he promises, but relents when the woman gives him that mom look that straightens out her son and stepson. “I— Thank you, Mrs. — Carla.”

Close enough.

He hands her his duffle bag, careful to spot the bottom of it in a sneaky attempt to help her ease his luggage into the first car.

Boom.

The front door bursts open to reveal Zeke and Eren, shoulder to shoulder, frantically fighting to see who can walk out first.

Grunting, Zeke tries to push ahead with his neon-green boogie board against his torso, but Eren manages to dip at the hip and rush down the steps. 

The momentum nearly knocks Zeke’s oval glasses off the bridge of his nose.

“Could you be normal for two seconds?” the blonde groans.

Eren merely answers by sticking his tongue out and holds up a hand, wiggling his thumb and pinkie back and forth. “Fucking loser.”

Carla immediately glares. “Eren, language.”

“Forking, sorry, forking,” Eren corrects with little remorse.

“Seriously?” Zeke laments as he walks by, squinting at his brother. “What are you, ten?”

“Zeke,” a voice chastises softly from the garage. "Be nice to your brother."

Grisha Yeager, father of the year, rolls out a large cooler to bring it towards the second yet-to-be-filled car.

He’s wearing a Margaritavilla button-down, his long hair tied similar to Eren’s. On his forehead is a tie-dye headband.

“We'll be within close quarters of one another for seven whole days," Grisha reminds in that airy tone of his. "We should hold off on the in-fighting until day four at the very least.”

"I'll give it until day three," Zeke mumbles under his breath as he passes by, shoving his boogie board into the first car and smushing Armin's duffle bag down to half its size.

Yeah.

This is what it’s like to vacation with the Yeagers.

Except when your grandfather gets a new girlfriend, and they go to Key West for the summer, you’re stuck without being able to say no to your best friend’s family.

Seven days.

He can handle the Yeagers for seven days.

.

.

— —

.

.

  It took less than three hours for Armin's pale skin to burn like an overcooked egg.

“It’s really not that bad,” chimes in Eren, mouth occupied by the hair tie between his teeth.

Invading his pessimistic mirror space, the taller brunette dips to look at himself while fixing his staple half-up bun hairdo.

The shorter blonde frowns even further as he checks out his tomato-red shoulders, standing shirtless and shoeless in front of him.

“It looks pretty bad, Eren.”

“Nah. Just slap some aloe on it, alright?”

Ruffling sounds behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, a bag of potato chips flies into view as Eren carelessly rips it from the cardboard variety pack — courtesy of the emergency snack stash in the corner of the room.

(The emergency snacks are, quote: So that bitch-ass Zeke doesn't steal the goods.)

The sun-kissed boy walks barefoot to the edge of the twin bed and flops down.

Right.

He forgot to mention he’s sharing a room with Eren, which only makes matters forty times worse.

Two twin beds with doily-esque blankets and flat pillows.

Thank god Armin had the sense to pack his own.

“Besides, the alcohol will make it feel better," Eren adds, chewing on a potato chip.

With a noise of defiance, Armin turns from the mirror to stare at his best friend.

“You do realize alcohol dehydrates a person, right?”

“So?”

“So—” Armin protests tightly, “—it’ll make it worse.”

Eren pops another chip in his mouth, shaking his head. 

“Nah.”

Eloquent as always.

Groaning, he slowly — agonizingly — pulls his pastel blue polo over his aching shoulders and breathes out through his nose.

That SPF 50 was supposed to work, but he must have lost track of time binge-reading his first book of the trip.

A spy thriller, actually, that fell flat right around chapter three and nosedived bad just at the cusp of act three.

The wildly out-of-left-field twist made him so mad that he missed his alarm to reapply another coat of sunscreen, and—

Well.

As a result, human lobster is now on the menu tonight.

Regardless, he promised to go out.

It isn't ideal, but a promise is a promise.

About ten or so blocks away from the beach house is the coveted spot known as The Point.

From what he could gather from Google, The Point is a tiki bar boasting high-top bar tables nestled in sand, recreational volleyball courts, and live music all week long.

It’s about the only lively place in this rather family-friendly beach town.

While not technically a dry town, bars are few and far between and there are approximately a whopping zero nighttime entertainment venues, so The Point was about as wild as any college kid stuck on vacation was going to get.

Earlier, Eren spent most of the car ride to the house hyping it up.

Zeke, in surprising fashion, seemed to hold the same sentiment.

(It’s probably the only thing the brothers could agree upon.)

Plus, Zeke apparently had some surfer friends he’d met online that were going on the first night of vacation, so that solidified the night’s plans.

After showering, dressing, and having family dinner with the parents, it's go time.

A little past nine at night, the three boys walk on the sidewalk in a triangle unit, with Armin trailing behind.

Ever a wallflower he keeps quiet, observing carefully as the two brothers figure out their game plan.

Zeke is anti-shots.

Eren wants shots or nothing at all.

“We’re on vacation, why the fuck wouldn’t you do shots?”

“Because,” Zeke explains, “if you start with shots, then you’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“Yeah, if you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Eren, you just turned twenty-one.”

Eren’s nostrils flare. “So?! I had plenty of practice at university!”

“Is he a lightweight, Arlert?”

Wait.

What?

Oh, shit, they’re including him.

“Be honest,” Zeke adds over his shoulder.

Like a deer in headlights, Armin blinks between the brothers. “Uh… sometimes?”

“What?!”

The yell out of his best friend is piercing.

“You goddamn turncoat!”

“You’re not exactly somebody with an iron stomach, Eren,” the blonde reminds softly as if calming a petulant child, only to wince when he's met with a look of pure anger. “But that isn't to say you can't hold a shot down.”

“Or five,” Eren challenges.

“Three at best,” Armin relents.

“Three and a half.”

Armin squints as they turn the corner leading towards the entrance of the bar.

“In what world does half a shot cou—”

“Wait!”

Eren yelps, holding out an arm to stop Zeke in his tracks.

Armin subsequently also stops — as does his wearing patience.

“I have a solution.”

Zeke pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And what’s that?”

“Look at me, dude.”

The boy with the man bun demands attention, using his pointer and middle finger to gesture between him and his half-brother. 

“You know what I’m thinking. Give it nine seconds.”

Right.

Not ten, because Eren’s favorite number is arbitrarily nine.

Zeke squints with about as much confusion as Armin’s feeling, but Armin knows by now how this is going to go.

Although they’re born with two different mothers, they’re eerily in sync with one another when they want to be extra annoying. 

Some kind of Yeager sixth sense tying them together; they fall silent, staring—

Then the thought strikes.

Like two brain cells clicking together, they simultaneously grin at one another.

“Jagerbombs.”

Great.

So even worse than a shot or a beer.

That’s all it takes for the two to become best buds as they stroll into the tiki bar like they own the place.

The blonde and brunette zero in on an open spot at one of the several pop-up bar locations at this venue—

—leaving Armin in the dust to fumble out his I.D. to the bouncer.

It's nothing new.

Cover charge? Paid.

Hand stamp? Accomplished.

Careful not to get any sand in his sneakers, Armin treads carefully across the uneven landscape towards the same lively bar as his best friend.

Music thumps right into his ribcage. 

Flashing lights threaten to blind him if he so much as looks over his shoulder to the west.

It’s more than he’s used to.

More than he wants, really.

(What happened to the leisure part of vacation again?)

“We got you one!”

Eren.

Blinking back into his body, Armin glances at the shot glass filled to the brim of Jagermeister waggled in his face. Immediately responding with a grimace, he steps back.

“No, I’ll just grab myself a drink, alright? You two enjoy — that.”

“What?” Eren’s frown is immediate. “Seriously? How else are you gonna get wasted with us?”

I’m not, is what he’d like to argue, but he knows Eren by now.

“What do you mean us?” Arnin shouts over the music. “I don’t see Zeke!”

“He got a text from one of his dumbass surfer bros and ditched,” Eren answers, “but to be perfectly honest, I’m thinking of playing the field tonight.”

“The what?”

“The field!”

“Eren, it’s really hard to hear you when they won’t stop mixing Pitbull with ABBA!”

“What?!”

Oh, this is impossible.

He raises his hands to gently push the shot glass towards his best friend’s chest. 

“You take it and show Zeke you can handle it!” Armin calls back at the top of his lungs, his shaggy blonde hair waving in the wind as he nods with encouragement.

That: giving Eren a challenge.

(Works like a charm.)

Determination spreads across his face. Eren nods, hyping himself up for a double-fisted success story. 

Armin simply nods, too, using the chameleon effect to build up Eren’s trust.

(Maybe he shouldn’t be using his psychology notes against his best friend, but desperate times call for desperate measures.)

“Yeah!”

Eren shouts while dropping the shot into the energy drink left perspiring on the bar top.

“I’m gonna!”

“Okay!”

“And then I’m gonna talk to a girl! Or a guy! Or someone!”

Armin’s eyes shoot wide with surprise, but he chooses not to rain on his best friend’s parade because Eren is already chugging the drink, spilling a little of the Jagerbomb down his oversized black tee.

(Good call, wearing dark colors, unlike Armin’s poorly planned pastel.)

Slamming it down on the bar top with a howl of victory, he pats Armin on the arm and trudges forward to the dance floor to do…

Well, that’s between the power of Charli xcx and God.

“Oh, Eren,” Armin mumbles, watching the little man bun bounce in time with the beat of the music until it’s consumed by dancing bodies.

Turning back to the bartenders, the blonde debates.

Agonizes, really.

He doesn’t drink very often.

It’s not really his thing.

But… when on vacation, right?

(Alone, apparently, since Zeke isn’t coming back anytime soon and he’s going to need to deal with dragging Eren’s drunk ass home in the next two hours.)

“Vodka soda, please,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

The bartender behind the counter nods his way before pulling out a plastic cup. 

Within a few seconds the simple alcoholic beverage is concocted, and he leaves a reluctant ten-dollar bill on the sliver of the bar that isn’t covered in condensation or sloshed liquor.

He reaches—

Oh.

That’s not a cup.

Freezing in his place, his blue eyes zero in on a pair of fingers entwined with his, nestled on the very same cup.

He can feel them tense under his own slender digits.

Dread. Pure, existential dread.

Apologize, apologize—

“Shit—”

“I’m so—”

“Sorry!”

A stranger’s voice yelps with his in unison.

Before he can move, their hand rips away from his, leaving his fingers to meet with the cold plastic.

His neck cranes to his left and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

You.

Blinking several times to get his wits about him, he can feel his mouth growing dry.

The way the blinking lights illuminate off of your face completely force his train of thought off the damn tracks.

Flickers of blues, greens, pinks — they compliment your face so nicely as each shade seems to highlight another feature that he hadn’t noticed a second before.

He shouldn’t stare, but he can’t help it: you’re drop dead gorgeous.

“It’s okay,” Armin breathes out after holding his breath for some time. “That was my bad. I didn’t see you.”

Your eyes are just as wide as his. “No! No, it was my fault. I thought that was my drink.”

“What did you order?”

“Uh, a hard seltzer? I think?” you answer, scrunching your nose as you respond.

Mayday.

That’s a type of adorable he is not equipped to handle in his sunburnt state.

“You think?” he repeats with a small chuckle.

You move your head side to side, tilting with an uncommitted air about it.

“It’s bubbling, right? Means I’m on the right carbonated track.”

“Yeah, but don’t hard seltzers usually come in cans?”

“Not always at this place,” you correct, before pushing the cup towards him. “I also kind of panicked when I ordered, so sorry for almost being a drink stealer.”

“Trust me, I know a thing or two about panic ordering,” Armin admits with a huff, taking the cup into his hands.

“Yeah?”

You give a carefree laugh that causes his stomach to give an Olympian-grade somersault.

“Is that why you got a vodka soda?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“We’ve all been there,” you empathize, briefly pouting your lower lip. “I won’t judge.”

He’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with this (see: at all) but that doesn’t mean Armin is going to waste his opportunity.

He may be a wallflower, but he’s equal parts an opportunist.

“So you’ve been here before?” he tries instead, hoping you don’t suddenly snatch your seltzer can and walk away.

You do get your seltzer from the same bartender — a slender aluminum can, nothing fancy — but you don’t walk away.

The opposite: you angle towards him.

Shit, okay.

He can do this.

“My friends love this place,” you tell him over the music. He finds himself leaning closer, angling his chin down, so he can hear you better. “So I just tagged along to make sure no one got black-out drunk or made out with anyone weird.”

“A noble effort,” Armin teases, and your eyes sparkle with amusement. “My friends dragged me here, too.”

“Dragged?” you catch with a growing smirk as you take a sip. “I said I tagged, not dragged.”

“Oh.”

Idiot.

Recover.

“I mean, it wasn't — yeah, no, I was definitely dragged here,” Armin confesses, sipping his vodka soda for some liquid courage.

No use in lying to seem cool.

That facade would crumble like a house of cards.

“Partying at The Point not your scene?” you ask without judgment laced in your tone.

Armin nods. “I could be sitting on the balcony reading right now.”

Your brows slide high with intrigue. "Reading?"

Yeah, he should have expected a reaction like that.

The blonde shuffles, shrugging his shoulders.

"I know, lame."

"I don't think it's lame at all," you answer instantly.

His eyes widen. "I— no?"

"Uh, no," you snort. "If I had a choice, I'd probably be doing the same thing."

Oh, shit.

Oh... shit.

So he's not lame, and he found a possible fellow bookworm.

Armin sips his drink so fast that a little dribbles out the corner of his mouth.

Liquid courage; he needs it, badly.

"If you could be home right now instead of here, what would you be reading?" he decides to ask, knowing it's the most unsexy question he could offer.

You scrunch your nose again, seriously contemplating the question while bobbing your head to the music.

"I brought maybe two books? I should have brought more."

He nods eagerly, his blue eyes round with interest.

"I have a romance that takes place in the summer — I know. Very on the nose," you relent with a small huff. "And, uh, this thriller? But I'm not crazy about it, so I'm mostly reading the romance book on the beach."

"I brought a thriller, too," he admits. "Bounty Run."

"Shut up, you too?"

"Huh?"

You laugh, and it's a melody that makes the music at this venue pale in comparison.

"I literally bought Bounty Run last month and never got around to it until now! It's so bad!"

To whatever deity is smiling upon him today, Armin has to thank them.

Not only has he met someone who likes reading, but they think Bounty Run sucks.

Maybe he's hallucinating from the burn screaming through his polo right now.

"It's really bad," he agrees breathlessly with a chuckle.

"Like dogshit terrible!"

"I know. What the hell was Tracy thinking in chapter six?"

"Oh my god, when she decided to call the hostage guy?"

"Yes!"

"Like, I'm pretty sure that's not how those situations work."

"Not even close."

You both laugh, and all Armin Arlert wants is to know every miniscule thought of yours.

What other books you may have read.

If you have any recommendations.

If you're single.

Nope.

No.

He's not Eren Yeager.

He is not his best friend— 

"Are you from here?" you ask over the music, breaking his panicked train of thought.

Armin swallows more alcohol, shaking his head. "No, we're not locals. We're just vacationing."

"So are we!"

"With your friends?"

"My friend's family," you correct, leaning closer to stop shouting so loudly.

He can feel his blood pressure spike exponentially.

"I'm with my friend's family, too," Armin tells you. "Our shore house for the week is something like ten blocks from here."

“For the week? Which way’s your house?” you ask, before holding up your free hand. “Not in, like, a mega-stalker way.”

“Oh, I didn’t take it that way,” he promises, earnest intent pouring from his mouth. “It’s, uh… wait where are we — oh! That way.”

He swivels and points, like somehow that’ll triangulate where the beach starts.

Your chin turns, noting the direction. “So near the… beach? No fucking way, our house is that way, too, but more like a seven-block walk from here.”

Oh.

No fucking way, indeed.

"Seriously?" Armin asks, voice cracking just a tad.

"Yeah! Do you guys camp out on the beach by third street, too?"

He nods almost too eagerly. "We were just there this afternoon."

"So were we," you confess with a light laugh. "Small world! We were both being subjected to that god-awful book and could've warned each other to pick a less shitty book."

"Well, I brought about a dozen books if you want one to borrow."

Way to go, mouth.

Armin tenses instantly as the words pour from his mouth.

"I... you know, just in case the romance book doesn't work out! Or if you're a fast reader! Or if you—"

"Promise?"

Your question cuts through like a knife.

He is in awe.

Enamored.

He'll give you all of his goddamn books if it means you'll talk to him after tonight.

Suddenly your chin drops, and your free hand fishes for your phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts.

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, causing the blonde to simply wait.

Stare.

Don't go.

Don't go, don't go, don't— 

"Shit, mayday with my friend."

You sigh as if you were expecting a disaster.

Hell, he's expecting one, too, but he's selfishly forgotten about saving Eren or finding Zeke.

"Are they alright?"

"Yeah, just..." You trail off, typing back a response. "They pre-gamed before we came here to save money. I told them not to, but... best laid plans, right?"

"I could give you my number?" he blurts, and your attention leaves your phone.

Your eyes round with surprise, and he feels immense shame in even offering.

Yet—

"For the books," he adds hastily. Shakily. "To borrow. O-Or if you ever want to just... talk about them."

"For the books," you agree, biting your lip between your teeth. "Yeah, sure, give me your phone."

His cup is empty, but he almost drops it trying to yank his phone out of his pocket.

Armin holds it out to you, unlocking the screen. He watches as you pocket your own phone and take his, typing your number into a new text chat window.

This is happening.

This is seriously, actually happening.

"Here," you offer, handing his phone back. "I put my name in."

He glances down, memorizing your name with newfound vigor.

"Okay, perfect. Oh — my name. My name is Armin."

"Armin?" You repeat. He nods. "I like that name."

Suddenly, he likes it, too.

"See you around?" he asks hopefully.

With a parting smile, you take a slow step backwards.

"...yeah, Armin. See you around."

You look just as sheepish as he feels when you turn on a heel, disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment he stands there, dumbfounded — phone in hand, slack jawed —

Hopeful.

Maybe...

Maybe Armin Arlert won't hate spending seven days at the Yeager shore house after all.

.

author's note:

Thank you SO much for reading part one of my little summer story! I've been dying to write a proper Armin fic for a while now, and a casual, warm vacation setting felt perfect for him. This is meant to be a cozy read, so I hope you enjoy my love letter to my favorite boy. xo

How are we feeling after part one? Let me know in the replies! (And thank you for any reblogs, likes, engagement, etc. Every comment gives this writer wings.)

[twilovesshuake]

Modern time high school teacher - student au

Y/n: Who's your favorite student?

Levi: Teachers aren't supposed to have favorites.

Y/n: Mr Erwin does

Levi: Of course he doesn't-

Erwin, walking in: Yes I do. Arlert is my favorite.

[genacity]

DAY THREE. DRACULA

ft. armin arlert — shingeki no kyojin (進撃の巨人)

as a vampire and a parent, it’s hard to find a babysitter that’ll stay up all night with your nocturnal little one while you’re at work. luckily for you, armin is here to get the job done.

ruling. nsfw — mature content

content warnings. dom! vampire! parent! reader, sub! babysitter! armin, blood kink, slight pain kink, biting, handjob, vampiric age gap? but normal human age gap (reader is hypothetically mid 20s, armin early 20s), plot before porn, “mx.” title is used to refer to reader but can be interpreted as “mr.”, “ms.”, or “mrs.”

an. hi all! sorry this came out a day late! again, lots of tests yesterday and today lol. c/n stands for child’s name, pls ignore the picture on the right. i couldn’t find one i liked. will be replacing later. enjoy!

kinktober 2023 masterlist

“thank you so much for coming again on such short notice, armin.” you thanked the young man as he was ready to leave your house.

“it was no problem, mx. l/n,” armin dismissed your thanks with a soft smile. “i’m always happy to stay late if it means you’re able to work without worrying about your little one.”

armin arlert, your babysitter; a sweet thing. always willing to come in during unearthy hours of the night to look after your baby. at first, you thought your little bat could handle themselves home alone, but after you found them playing with worms in the bathtub at 5:17 in the morning, you found it best to find a babysitter.

at first, it was hopeless. finding a sitter that would tend to your vampiric needs; to come in at twelve in the morning and stay until four was a nightmare. until you got a message from sweet armin; offering to stay over as long as he was paid well.

and he was — how could you decline? a pretty young face offering to watch your child for just a bit extra? a steal. he was your last hope, and good thing he was good at his job, too. so, he became your regular sitter.

“was c/n any trouble?” you hummed, hanging your coat onto the hook and watching as armin shook his head. “not at all. they were the sweetest, as always.”

“good to hear.” you nodded and turned to armin. “i’m so sorry i kept you here past your promised hours. is there any way i can make it up to you?”

armin shook his head almost immediately at your question. “oh, no! please, it was only an hour,” he dismissed. “it was no trouble at all. c/n was asleep for the majority, so you really don’t have to pay me back.”

“nonsense.” you said as you took a step towards armin. “i insist. i held you up longer than you were in for. allow me to pay you back, my treat.”

armin’s cheeks went a pale pink as he flashed his usual little smile. “well, if you insist.” he laughed nervously, eyes squinting as he giggled and oh, it made your stomach churn.

you noticed that today armin had a book with him. with interest, you motioned to it. it had a black hard cover and silver lettering along the spine. “what’re you reading?”

armin raised his eyebrows and held up his book. “oh, this?” he looked at the cover, then at you. “it’s a new horror romance novel i’ve picked up.”

you hummed attentively. armin was always one to bring a book over while he watched c/n; it was no uncommon occurrence. “what’s it about?”

he seemed to think about it before answering. “well, it’s about a vampire and his long lost reincarnated love.”

you felt your veins run cold. not like they hadn’t been for thousands of years prior, but just then especially had you really felt the shiver. “vampires, you say?” you swallowed, showing as much interest as you could.

“yes, vampires.” he said. “i’m really enjoying the fantasy elements. some of the scenes even make me curious as to what they would feel like for myself.”

“really?” you laughed coolly, walking over to peer down at the book cover for yourself. the silver-print title flickered in the beaming remnants of the moonlight. “which scenes in particular?”

armin paused. “well,” and began again. “at the beginning of the book, the main character goes out to a bar and drinks the blood of a woman. the author describes it as ‘a burning but pleasurable sensation’.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle. pleasurable, is that how humans described your bite nowadays? back when you were alive people were too busy screaming to notice how nice it felt if they were being bit.

“hey, then for your payment tonight, maybe i can help you out.” you blurted out, and suddenly you found yourself too deep in to turn back. armin had already turned to you with a raised brow as you laughed awkwardly.

it was when your lips were parted as you chuckled that his eyes flickered to the sharp peaks of your teeth that glinted so sweetly; the ones that left his eyes blown wide as all of the pieces clicked in his head.

the reason you always worked during the night, the reason why your skin was bone cold all of the times you accidentally bumped into him or patted his hand with thanks before he left after babysitting. you were a vampire. a vampire offering to drink his blood.

he should be scared. he should be running, screaming for help or scrambling to check if that stake and garlic thing was true. this was an undead creature offering to prey upon him. but he didn’t do anything rash. not before dropping his book and grabbing your arms, pulling you forward on top of him.

“armin—” but he was already grabbing you, pulling you on top of him as he staggered back onto the couch. “please,” he breathed as you stumbled forward and towered over the human boy. “i want to know what it feels like.”

your breath hitched in your throat. it felt like you could hear everything. the overlapped pounding of your heartbeats that hammered in your ears; the rushing of blood in his veins and every thick swallow he took. your eyes trailed slowly down his body, his chest rising and falling before you realized what was truly happening.

“please, mx. l/n.” armin begged again. “i want to know if it feels as good as they say it does.”

he watched as your expression softened. “are you sure, armin? i would hate to hurt you.” armin nodded eagerly and gulped. “yes. i’m sure.”

you looked down at his neck. you assumed that’s where he wanted you to bite; it was where vampires in media always aimed. quickly you breathed in and out, looking up at armin for one last motion of confirmation before you continued.

he nodded, as if reading your mind; pulling you further into him with pleading eyes. “it’s okay, mx. l/n. please. i want this. do whatever you want. anything.”

armin’s voice left your head pounding. thoughts spinning round your brain like a racetrack, not once stopping to think logically before you had pulled the collar of his shirt down to sink your sharp fangs deep into the base of his neck.

he let out a loud squeal, hands flying to grab onto your shoulders as his hips bucked up at the sudden pain. your fangs piercing through his skin, locking in deep just before a major vein. your lips closed in around the wound and began to suck harshly as he writhed beneath you.

“mx — oh, ah! it — it hurts, oh god!” armin moaned out, panting as he felt your hands begin to grab at his buckle, he was much too focused on the burning, flourishing madness that spread through his skin. it hurt so badly, sending adrenaline shocks through him that left his body jerking and grabbing onto you. it left his skin red, flushed, and burning to the touch as he moaned again.

there was something about the burning sensation that left him impossibly aroused — the relief of your bloodless lips soothing the everlasting pain, your freezing skin that fought the burn as you held him down. like a boiling hot aphrodisiac, it turned his brain inside out and back again.

your hands pushed his pants down and quickly pulled out his weeping cock. you began to stroke it slowly in pace with your sucks; drawn out enough to make armin cry out and claw at your back. “ohnn, please, more!” armin gasped through a choked whimper, thrusting up into your hand sloppily.

his movements grew messy and irregular. you feared you were drinking too much for armin’s own good — but the metallic taste of him invading your lips and mouth was enough to keep you feeding for a few more moments before retracting your fangs to lick the leaking piercing in his neck as your hand sped up around his cock.

“ah! ah, mx. l/n — i’m gonna — please, let me cum!” the blonde whimpered out weakly once he felt you begin to pull away.

as your fangs drew back from his wound, armin let out a series of sloppy whimpers and moans before bucking up and spilling ropes of cum all over your hand and his stomach; shirt riding up his abdomen from the heat of the moment. armin’s hips slowed their messy pace before he fell limp against the couch. his chest rose and fell and his eyes went in and out of focus.

you looked down at the sight beneath you. never in the thousands of years you had been alive had something that exhilarating happened to you.

and as you began to help him up, cooing to him softly about how good he had done and how you were going to glean him up, you could only hope that something like this would happen again.

[spicerackofblorbos]

Ice Prince - figure skater!Armin Arlert x gen!Reader

☾ summary ➼ when taking your little brother to an ice skating camp for beginners, you're thrown for a loop. Your brother's coach wasn't just talented, he was cute and adorable as hell. ☾ content/warnings ➼ modernAU, fluff, meetcute, no use of y/n or physical descriptors, reader has a little brother, soft bby armin ☾ wc ➼ ~4.05k ☾ a/n ➼ this is for @crazychaoticizzy and @cinnamon-girl-writes 's full throttle event!! thank you guys so much for inviting me as well as being patient with me. this was so fun to write and i hope you enjoy it!! also i'm posting this from my writing blog lol

A single tug on your hand grabs your attention. Looking down, you see your nerve-wracked little brother, wide-eyed with taut lips. You stop in the middle of the parking lot belonging to your local ice rink, the winter sun beaming down on you two from above.

“Are you still nervous?” You whisper down to him, turning to face him as you bend down to his eye level. You give him a soft smile and a reassuring squeeze on the hand that still grips yours.

“I’m going to be laughed at.” Your brother says in a small voice. His eyes avert from yours.

“Little sparrow, they will not laugh at you. You’re a beginner, just like them! Falling is inevitable and normal.” You reach over to fix the thick winter coat that warms his little body. “Besides, if anyone laughs at you, then they have your big sister to answer to first.” You smirk.

He searches your face, as if he might find any doubt that would contradict your words. The little boy finds none. He takes a shuddering breath before inhaling deeply one last time. With a determined nod, he squeezes your hand and leads you to the large entrance to the arena.

Upon entering through glass double doors, the sounds of children laughing and metal against ice fill your ears. There’s a booth ahead with a kind looking lady, who is currently reading through a clipboard as you both step up. The woman is unaware as she mutters to herself, so you clear your throat gently.

“Oh!” She pops up, fixing her glasses that had shifted down her nose. “Welcome! I assume you are here for camp?” Her voice is soft, almost fragile.

“Yes. Well, not me. For this little man right here.” You tilt your chin down in his direction, shifting the woman’s attention to the wide-eyed boy.

“Ah, perfect. Name?” She goes back to the clipboard, ready to mark off the newcomer.

“Zachary Simmons.”

“There he is! Looks like he’s in Mr. Arlert’s group.” she says excitedly.

“Which is a good thing, right?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Very. He made it here for once. He’s usually gone for this season for tournaments or other miscellaneous events. He’s a great teacher and even sweeter man. This little one will love him.” She puts down her clipboard and beams towards the both of you.

“Uhh, right. Yes. Thank you. Where is that group?” Your eyes look around the semi-busy arena.

“All the way to the left and back. There should be about five other children in the group, and you’re looking for the blonde-haired man.”

Zach doesn’t hesitate to drag you in the direction without another word, and a bubble of laughter escaping you because of his newfound enthusiasm. On your way through, you see many other children giggling and talking with excitement, ready for the next three days.

“Would you like some help, Dela?” You hear a soft-spoken voice as you turn into a quieter section of the arena. Your eyes snap to the source of it, seeing a blonde-haired man squatting with his back to you, facing a little girl who sits on a bench with her feet propped up on what looks like the man’s knee. It seems he’s helping her lace up her skates. After a moment, he leans back as the little girl swings her feet, testing the tightness.

“Thank you, Armin!” She says gratefully before attempting to stand up with help from the man, his hands holding her by her shoulders for stability.

“Let’s take it slow, okay? Try and walk along the wall to the others.” He instructs. You can hear a small smile in his voice. He stands tall, much taller than you, then turns.

You’re caught off guard.

Mr. Arlert is adorably cute. He has boyish features, bright blue eyes, soft pink tinged cheeks, and a sweet smile. He also seems to be about your age, if not older. He’s wearing a sweatshirt that hangs loose on his lean body, followed by equally baggy windbreaker pants and a pair of worn-out sneakers.

He steps over to where you and your brother stand, offering an outstretched hand. You take it hesitantly, surprised by how warm and soft his hand is. But, despite the delicate and soft features, his grip is strong.

“Hi, you must be the Simmons?” He inquires. Even his voice is soft, soothing even.

“That would be us. This is Zach.” You release your brother’s hand and place it on his upper back, nudging him forward. Once bouncing with excitement, he is now suddenly very shy.

“Hi, Zach.” Mr. Arlert bends down to Zach’s level, resting his hands on his knees as he smiles. “I’m Armin Arlert, welcome!”

“H-hello, Mr. Arlert.”

“Please, call me Armin. I’m so happy to have you in my group.” Armin’s eyes trail to the pair of skates with the laces knotted together, hanging off Zach’s shoulder. “Are you ready to have fun?”

Zach tilts his head up to look at you, as if waiting for permission. You offer a thumbs up with a smile, which makes him crack his own goofy grin.

“I’ll be here the whole time. You’ll be okay.” You mutter down to him, ruffling his hair. You’re met with a grumpy swat at your hand, but even still. Zach smiles and nods to Armin, subtly relaxing.

“Why don’t go lace up over there,” he points to the bench that the little girl was just sitting on moments ago. “While I talk to your mom.” His eyes meet yours, ocean deep blue. You’re so mesmerized by him that you barely catch on to what he said.

“Oh! No, um. Not his mom, I’m his sister.” You wave your hands in front of your chest in a dismissive manner. Zach couldn’t care less as he bounds over, quickly slipping off his winter boots.

Armin stands up, a bright blush creeping up his neck and face. He’s a few inches taller than you, not enough to tower but still enough that you have to tilt your chin to meet his gaze.

“I’m so sorry! That was incredibly rude of me to assume. You don’t even look that old, it’s just habit since most of the kids come with their moms so.” He nervously cards his fingers through his blonde hair, pushing the strands back and away from his face, which inevitably falls back into place.

“No, you’re okay! It’s a common misconception.” You shake your head, eyes wide. “My mother married his dad, then they had him when I was in high school. It was definitely not something I wasn’t prepared for, but I really like Nick, he’s good to my mom. My biological dad left the picture early on…” you ramble, your fingers fidgeting with the rings that adorn your fingers. “Which… you definitely did not need to know that. I’m sorry.” You laugh nervously as you avert your gaze, your cheeks now heating up in embarrassment.

“It’s really okay, I’m not judging one bit! In fact, I think it’s really sweet how much you care for him. I’ve heard stories of stepsiblings and stepparents not getting along well, so it’s great that you both are so close.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both ingest the conversation that just transpired between the two of you.

“Um,” Armin clears his throat. “I’m going to start with the kids. Feel free to sit over on those benches if you’d like to stay.” He turns on his heel and walks away briskly.

Your eyes travel in the direction Armin has suggested, seeing a myriad of parents either working on hobbies they brought with them or video recording their kids fall on the ice. With a heavy sigh, you make your way over and sit next to a woman who was currently knitting what looked like a winter hat.

You assumed the few hours would pass by playing on your phone, anything to distract from the boredom that would inevitably creep into your bones. But that’s not how it went. Much to your surprise, you’re enamored with how Armin slides across the ice with grace. It’s as if he’d been doing this his whole life.

You finally understand by what the woman at check-in had meant by Mr. Arlert being away every year. He is a talented skater as she said, enough to be medal worthy.

You watch as he instructs the children on correct posture, being patient while taking the extra time to help each individual kid that needed assistance. Not once did a flicker of annoyance or frustration cross his features. If anything, he was having the time of his life by the way he smiled and spoke words full of compassion.

By the end of the day, your brother glows with confidence. His semi-toothless grin beams at you while changing back into his sneakers, the weight of his used skates hanging on your shoulders. He doesn’t stop chatting to another boy sitting next to him on the bench who was also lacing his sneakers. You smile fondly.

“Your brother is a natural, are you sure he wants to stay in the beginner’s class?” That familiar soft-spoken voice pipes up behind you.

You turn to face Armin who was currently using a fluffy towel to wipe the sweat his face. There’s no hint of jest in his features, only sweet sincerity. And true curiosity.

“Oh, he has very little experience. He tried it once when he was much younger, out on the lake in the dead of winter. He hurt himself, and that was it. They tried everything for years to get him to try again, but…” You mentally pinch yourself for rambling on again, a ridiculous nervous habit.

“So, what made him want to try again?”

Now it’s your turn to look at Armin with curiosity. To have someone genuinely interested in what you had to say was not something you come to expect from people you just met. It only makes the small smile tugging at your lips that much sweeter.

“He found an old video of our mom and dad figure skating together a few years before he was born, and he’s been watching every day since then. Our parents met on the ice, actually. It’s where they fell in love. He’s under the impression he’ll find his first love on the ice too. Silly kid.” You chuckle softly as you turn to face Zach again who is talking animatedly about something with his new friend.

“Hm.” Armin thinks for a moment. “So, that must mean you’re pretty talented in skates as well?” You meet his gaze again with tight lips.

“Definitely not. I’ve never even been on the ice before.”

“No? Not interested or…?”

“Never really gave it much thought. I was so focused on my studies, I refused to have anything outside of that since it was a distraction.” You shake your head dismissively before cracking a smile. “But it’s okay. I get to live vicariously through Zach. And, well now you, I guess. You’re a very talented skater, the way you move is very beautiful.” Your words slip out faster than you can stop them, heat rushing up into your cheeks again.

“Anyway!” You chuckle nervously as you back away with your car keys in hand. “I really need to take us home for dinner. Uh, see you tomorrow, I think.” You say quickly before turning and walking straight to where Zach still stands. You mentally berate yourself the whole way back to the car and on the ride home.

The second day of camp came and went faster than you would have liked. Much like the day before, you were enchanted by the way Armin carved into the ice. It was almost as if it required little no effort for him.

Somewhere around noon, Zach collided with another camper which flared up your sibling instincts. Before you could throw off the soft blanket you had brought with you, Armin was there in an instant. He had dropped to his knees to help your brother up, gently gripping his biceps as he steadied Zach's trembling posture.

There was something about the compassionate moment that made your heart melt. It’s not unusual to see someone comforting an upset child, but the way Armin went about it was just as stunning as he was in his skates. At that point, you had left your stuff on the bleachers while you made your way down to the entrance separating the ice and the carpeted floor.

As if nothing happened, Zach clumsily skates off to meet up with his friend. You only see the back of his head so you aren't able to get a good look at his face, but you can imagine the smile that lights up on it like it usually does once he's feeling better.

The sound of scraping startles you, paired with Armin's lean body gracefully holding on to the half wall to stop his slide. He looks at you with a soft gaze and kind smile. From his position, you can make out the subtle light freckles that scatter on the bridge of his nose and fade out towards his cheekbones.

“Your brother reminds me a lot of myself when I was his age.” He states.

“Clumsy?” You laugh under your breath as your eyes trail back to your brother. He's currently working on starting and stopping with a wild grin.

“Yes,” He chuckles as well. “and determined. He's a fighter.” The sincerity in his compliment draws your eyes back to his.

“What made you want to start skating?” You rest your forearms on top of the half-wall, leaning forward onto the balls of your feet.

“Well, let's just say something traumatic happened when I was a kid, and I found that figure skating distracted my mind. It became therapeutic, and then it just stuck.” He shrugs as if that was that. In all honesty, you wanted to ask more. You wanted to know more about this soft spoken man before you.

“I'm really sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, it's fine really! I found something I love because of it.” The way his eyes scrunch when he genuinely smiles almost kills you. “What do you like to do in your spare time?”

At the time, you assumed this was polite small talk. Something to pass the time while the kids practiced starts and stops. To Armin, though, this was him trying to learn as much about you as he could.

“Well, it's nothing exciting as skating, that's for sure.” You prop your chin up on a palm as you continue to lean on the wall. “I like to write.”

“That can be very exciting depending on what you write! Can I know?” There's that genuine and sincere curiosity again.

“Well, it depends, I guess. I'm working on a murder mystery right now.” You purse your lips in thought, thinking back to the last paragraph you had outlined.

“That sounds extremely exciting!” His eyes widen, soft blue eyes filled with wonder. “Have you published any?”

“No, I don't think I will. It's more of a hobby if anything.” You shift your weight onto the other foot.

“Still, it’s great that you write. I love to read, so if you ever publish it I'd love to read it. Having a best selling author live in my town? That's a pretty cool fun fact.” Despite Armin's confident words, his face turns a pale carmine red. It's adorable on him. Your face heats up as well, his words resonating through you.

“O-oh, well. If I ever do, I'll make sure to give you a signed copy.” Another nervous laugh leaves you.

A resounding thud sounds behind Armin, followed by a child’s cry. “Ah, shit.” He whispers under his breath. His blue eyes meet yours and gives you an apologetic smile before pushing off the wall and skating over to the fallen beginner.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips, finally able to breathe normally. There was something about being in his presence that left you dizzy. He was calm. Peaceful. Refreshing.

The third and final day was more than you bargained for.

Considering it was a three day camp, perfect results were not expected. If anything, this camp served as a way to teach kids the basics of skating and if they liked it and wanted more, there were sign up sheets for lessons that started in about a month.

The way that Zach talked about the camp at the dinner table, it was clear he wanted to continue to practice. Your parents were elated, of course. As were you, but for an entirely different reason. The last two nights consisted of you thinking about Armin against your will. There was just something about him.

So, when your little brother comes bounding up to you with the seasonal sign up forms with his request to be in Armin's class, you could feel your heart leaping up into your throat – either from anxiety or excitement, you couldn't tell. You just know that you'd be the one transporting Zach, which meant you could see Armin every week. You roll your eyes at yourself the moment that thought crosses your mind.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask Zach as you read through the sign up sheets and waivers, your eyes glancing up at him from the overwhelming amount of words that swim on the page. You'd let your parents take care of this, you decide.

“Yes! I really like him, he's a good teacher. He said he liked my skates too!” His ice skates were slung over his shoulder like they usually were. The red and orange flames on the side of them make your eyebrows quirk, because it's the first time you've seen them like this. “Plus, I think you like him too!” He giggles at the way your body language changes from being flustered.

“You don't know what you're talking about! Shush!” You give him a look, scrunching your nose.

“I see the way you look at him!”

“Stop!”

“Are you going to kiss him?”

“Zachary I swear to-!"

“Zach!” The friend that your brother had made calls him over, standing next to his mom. They're both smiling in your direction, waving politely. With permission from both moms (and a physical meet up of course), a little playdate and dinner were set up to celebrate.

Honestly, you could have just dropped him off in the care of the mother at the beginning of the day. But, then you wouldn't be able to see the way Armin smiled every time he hit the ice.

“Just go.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. Despite the annoyances, you still grab him and pull him into your chest for a final hug. “Don't forget to call if anything happens. And if you're ready to come home earlier than planned, please let us know. Do you have your jacket and everything?” You say down to him, finally releasing him from your grip.

It was his turn to scrunch his nose at you.

“Yes, yes, and yes. Can I go now?” He nods, clutching the little drawstring bag he brought with him in his little hands.

“Okay, okay. Go have fun.” With a smile, you watch him run off. He's never been great at having friends, so the sight of him laughing so freely with someone else is nice.

You turn to head out the large double doors, checking your pockets and hands to make sure you have everything. Wallet, phone, earbuds, sign up sheets, waivers… keys? You pat around all of your pockets, hoping maybe that you put them in a different pocket than usual.

Nothing.

With a deep groan, you turn around and head back to the back bleachers where you were sitting just moments before. At this point, the arena was next to empty. The only people left were mingling camp and venue staff, and they were all up front tidying everything up.

After five minutes of deep searching in every crevice of the nasty seats, you sit up with a frustrated sigh. The thought of someone stealing your keys and driving off fills your mind, dread slinking its way through your body like a snake.

“Ugh, what am I going to tell mom…” You whine into the air with your hands thrown up in defeat.

“Um. I assume these might be yours?” The soft-spoken voice behind you creates goosebumps down your arms.

You turn around slowly and see Armin looking at you with your car keys dangling from his lithe fingers. The relief that crashes over you is palpable, so much so that you aren’t aware of how quickly you threw yourself off the bleachers and almost on top of him.

“Oh my gosh, thank you Armin! You just saved me hours of being yelled at by my parents.” Armin drops them into your open palm with a shake of his head.

“It’s no problem. I’ve been looking around for you anyway, so this works out.” He smiles at you as if what he just said wasn’t that big of a deal. Again, despite his confident and unwavering expression, the red around his neck and face tells just how awkward he must be feeling.

“For me?” You tuck your keys and other belongings in the shoulder bag you brought. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes! Everything is fine. Um,” he runs his fingers through his blonde locks as he looks down at you with a shy smile. “I was wondering if you’d like to learn how to skate while you were here.” His voice slowly gets quieter. The way he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck nervously gives a good display of his lean muscles and milky skin under the bright fluorescent lights.

There’s a moment of silence, him waiting for your response and you slowly comprehending his question.

“Learn? Like, me…? Get out on the ice…?”

A soft huff escapes Armin’s lips, the nervous smile now an amused grin.

“Yes. I’m here, I promise I won’t let you fall.”

“I don’t think you want to see that. And, I don’t even have skates.”

“There are ones you can borrow from the rental booth.”

“Don’t you have to pay for those?”

“So, is that a yes?” His blue eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, excitement even at the proposition of spending actual time with you outside of professionality.

“I-I don’t know. I’m not very balanced.” You step away slightly, feeling your face heat up yet again.  

“What if I promise that you won’t fall and that I’ll buy dinner after? If you do fall, then we can promise to never see each other again.” There’s a small playful smirk that threatens to tug on the corners of his mouth.

You purse your lips at him, fingers intertwining with each other as you weigh your pros and cons. On the one hand, you could finally indulge yourself with what might happen between the two of you. On the other, you’d have to lace up some skates and pray your jeans don’t rip.

“Do I get to choose the restaurant?” You meet his gaze with a quirked eyebrow.

“Sure.” He chuckles. From his voice to his laugh to the delicate features on his face, you wonder how anyone could say no to him.

It takes you a while to find skates that fit you comfortably. They were very used and even smelled like it too, much to your disdain. Armin makes sure to hold you by the arm as he leads you back to the rink entrance, letting go so he can step on the ice first then holds his hand out to you to take.

“I never got your name, by the way.”

You take it in your own hand, pleasantly surprised yet again by how warm it was. Your fingers tighten around his palm as he gently pulls you into him. Already you can feel your legs trembling under you – but was it the nerves or the lack of skill, you didn’t know. Regardless, you give him a smile.

“That’s because I haven’t told you yet. Buy me dinner first, then I’ll talk.”

[violentvaleska]

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆

ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴇᴠɪ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟɪsᴛ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ғɪᴇʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴡᴀʀ ᴠᴇᴛᴇʀᴀɴs. ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀʀᴍɪɴs ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴs ғᴏʀ ʜɪs ғᴏʀᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ʜɪʀᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴀs ᴀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇʀ. ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ɴᴜʀsᴇ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ, ᴄᴜʀsɪɴɢ, sᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀs

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴘᴏsᴛ ᴡᴀʀ...sᴏ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ sᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʏᴇʟʟ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ! ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴀʀɴᴇᴅ

The life after war was almost like the life before. Peaceful and quiet. You were eighteen when the titans attacked for the first time, twenty-three when everything stopped. You're now in your mid-twenties, working as a caretaker for veterans in a nursing home specified for the military, trying to help both; Marley's and Eldian's. The prejudice still cutting a line between the two nations, but it's obviously gotten better. 

You were taking care of an invalid woman, when a man with blonde hair and sky-blue eyes approached you. He wore a military uniform and had a warm smile on his young-looking face. You're not surprised to see military people on a daily basis, after all you work for them. Being approached by a high ranked one was different though.

"My name is Armin Arlert. You must be Miss (Y/L/N), correct?" You nodded your head, not daring to leave the woman's side. 

"Good, you've been recommended to me by your supervisor Mrs. Mayer. I'd be happy to announce that you will be deported to personal caretaking by next week." Gulping, you looked at him with surprise. 

"Personal caretaking? May I ask who my patient will be?" You asked out of curiosity. Armin only smiled, a sad one, and shook his head. 

"This will be discussed further next week. I'll join you to meet him. Mrs. Meyer will let you know more about the exact date and location. It was nice to meet you." 

The whole situation left you nervous the following days and it wasn't until you sat in an automobile (for the first time in your life) on your way to Marley that you relaxed a little bit. 

Looking at Commander Armin with a raised brow, you brush over your skirt, flattening it. 

"Captain Levi Ackerman? Isn't he humanities strongest-" you get interrupted by his sorrowful voice. 

"He was humanity's strongest." He explains quickly, glancing out of the window in a haze. 

"Two former Marley warriors take care of him now. It wasn't a problem until recently though. He got more-" he trails off looking for the right words.

"He needs someone experienced in the field." Mrs. Mayer suggests, looking at you with a meaningful gaze. 

"Yes." Armin breaths, the sadness not leaving him. 

"The kids are great. But they wrote me a letter a while ago. Explaining that they've reached their limits with him." Swallowing you nod your head, understanding the situation. 

"How bad is his condition." You dare to ask, but this time you look at your supervisor, not wanting to pressure the Commander.

"I was told by our former Commander Hange Zoë that Levi was caught in an explosion, losing sight of his right eye and two of his fingers on his right hand. While we fought against Eren, he saved one of us. Unfortunately, a titan damaged his leg permanently, leaving him basically wheelchaired." He explains and you can't help but to notice that he is a bit hesitant. 

"Anything else I need to know?" You try to be polite, hoping to not come across as rude. 

"His mental condition is a bit-" Now that even your supervisor Mrs. Mayer struggles to find the right words to describe the Captain’s situation, you can't help but to feel a bit scared again. 

"He's overwhelmed with the fact that he is dependent on someone else. The Captain has always been a bit grumpy and mean but recently he's been depressed, making Gabi and Falco unable to help him." You form your lips into an "o" form, seeing the situation in another light now. 

"I understand. I'll make sure to keep that in mind." You promise, smiling at Commander Armin with reassurance.

Armin knocks at the fine wooden door, his posture anything but relaxed. Hearing footsteps emerging you straighten your posture and patiently wait for the person behind the door to open it. In front of the three of you appears a girl in her teens with brown hair and eyes, a tired expression on her young features.

"Commander." She greets, a small smile appears on her thin lips. 

"Gabi." He softly smiles back, allowing himself into the suburban house. You follow him, running your eyes around the small entry hall. Everything appears to be clean, no sign of dust or clutter. 

"Thank God you are here." She whispers, eying you and Mrs. Mayer with hope. 

"I swear Commander he is-" A raspy voice coming from one of the rooms breaks her hushed tone, making her noticeably shudder.

"Who is this Gabi? Who are you talking to?" For a moment Armin closes his eyes, letting out a heavy breath. 

"It's just me, Captain Levi." The blonde walks straight up to the room where the grumpy voice came from, making you follow him hesitantly. Your body is tense, as you nervously appear in the door frame, right behind the Commander. In the middle of the living room is a man, his rather small body placed in a wheelchair. 'This is him.' You think and meet his eyes, your lips turning upwards into a polite smile. 

"Who's your company?" Levi asks in clear disinterest, eyeing you with suspicion.

"This is Miss (Y/L/N) and her supervisor Mrs. Mayer. Miss (Y/L/N) works for the care-program. I ordered her here to-" the low chuckle of the former Captain makes Armin stop, eyes wide with fear. Seeing the Commander's reaction to a former soldier's laugh, makes you wonder how the Captain treated his companions back in the day. 

"Let me guess. She's here to take care of me, isn't she?" Levi asks, mockingly gesturing at you. 

"Well- yes." Armin scratches the back of his head, grinning uncomfortably. 

"Then that's a no." Levi decides with confidence, crossing his arms with a pout. You didn't know that the Captain wasn't aware of you coming, making you feel awkward and like an intruder in his home. Getting a grip of himself, Armin Arlert gives him an annoyed look. 

"This was an order. Not a suggestion." At this Levi expression turns sour, bitter. 

"You singing high tones now, Arlert? Remember who saved your burned ass a few years ago." The unbearable tension makes you feel sick to the stomach, and you shift around, trying to make yourself more comfortable. 

"I'm aware and grateful, Captain. But Gabi und Falco are no longer able to tend to your needs." Levi's good eye moves to the brown-haired girl, giving her the 'you'll regret that' look. Gabi looks to the ground in shame, a nervous grin plastered on her face. 

"Oh! And I'm sure she can tend to my needs then." He speaks, arrogance directed at both you and Armin. 

"She's good in her field Captain Levi-" 

"Damn it, stop calling me Captain, Arlert." 

"-She will help you clean and cook. Miss (Y/L/N), don't you want to introduce yourself." All eyes land on you, like a deer caught up in headlights. 

"Good morning Mr. Ackerman. My name is (Y/N) (YL//N) and I'd be honored to help you around your home whenever needed." You try to hold your nervous smile upward while he looks at you with judgment.

"So, you're a housemaid?" Being caught off guard for a second, your supervisor comes to your rescue. 

"No. She is a trained caretaker and has a great range of medical and pharmaceutical knowledge. She's better than your ordinary maid Mr. Ackerman." Your cheeks redden as his steel-colored orbs lands on you again, observing you. 

"Fine. She can stay and assist Gabi and Falco." At that Armin let's out a noticeable sight, the soft smile returning on his rosy cheeks. 

"Happy to have found an agreement Captain-"

"Only Levi." 

"-Levi." 

The first week has been nothing but horrible. You can see why the kids are clearly overwhelmed with situation, your help only smoothing it a little. Levi Ackerman has been rude and cold towards you, snarky remarks and dark jokes following you around the house. He seems to be born with a natural authority and insomnia. In this entire week you have only seen him sleep once. You even thought that he was dead, his body crouched down on his wheelchair, his chest flatly falling and rising. 

"Should we bring him to his room?" You whispered to Falco who only shook his head. 

"No. He never sleeps in there." 

The next thing you noticed was his obsession with cleanliness; everything had to be perfectly neat. It was your main duty, cleaning, doing the laundry and ironing it after. Everything had to be up to his standards, and they were high. He took joy in cleaning too though, trying his best every day. You noticed that he trained a lot too, using a cane instead of a wheelchair or (trying) doing pushups. Other days he would only lay on his bed not doing anything but stare on the blank wall. It was then you realized that Levi mentally still relieves the war, that he is traumatized.

Right now you prepare the breakfast table for tomorrow, putting clean china on the round wood. Falco and Gabi are already fast asleep, exhausted from school and tending to Captain Levi. He only lets the kids help him, not letting you near him in any way. You already wrote Mrs. Mayer a letter, explaining your current situation. Her answer was quick and disappointing. "Keep up. You managed worse." Levi was right, you are nothing more than a maid in this household. So you wrote Commander Armin next, only receiving the same answer.

"Oi, brat." A harsh voice breaks your thoughts making you look to Mr. Ackerman. He leans against his cane for support, his usual bored expression covering his true emotions.

"A little help would be nice." He gestures at his tea can, his struggling obvious. You feel embarrassed that you were too deep in thoughts to notice him. You mumble a quick apology, rushing to his side. By now you know how he likes his black tea; the water shouldn't boil anymore, and the tea shouldn't brew for too long. The two of you stay beside each other in silence, preparing everything for his tea. After it is ready to stir, you notice his cold stare on your form, his steel-colored eye catches yours. His other one appears to be milky, a scar tearing his fine skin. 

"Could you do me a favor?" The question catches you off guard and you wonder if there might be a catch.

"Of course." You decide on a simple answer, awaiting his favor patiently. 

"My knee has been hurting like shit lately. Could you-" he rasps, avoiding your gaze. 

"Could you give me a massage?" Surprised you smile at him, finally feeling appreciated as a caretaker and not a housewife by him. 

"Of course, Mr. Ackerman." You joyfully reply, offering him to take a seat at the dining table. 

You carefully move his leg up, placing it on your lap. 

"Is the pain constant? Or random at times?" You question, placing your palm carefully on his hurting knee. 

"Random. I can tell that the muscles are affected most of the time though. They never fully healed." You move your hand over his hurt muscles, a small groan escaping him in the process. He fletches his teeth, pained face looking at you accusingly.

"Sorry." You breathe out, stopping your movement instantly. 

"I don't really know where to massage it. With your leg being covered, you know?" You explain carefully, hoping he understands. Levi rolls his eyes and after a few seconds starts to fiddle with his belt and pants. Being used to nudity, you don't particularly feel uncomfortable, only seeing this situation as a matter of treating your patient well and so does Levi. 

"Alright. Can't have you destroy it even more." He simply comments and pulls his pants down, neatly picking it up from the floor to fold it. Perfectionism. He simply rests his leg back on your lap, allowing you to continue. Scars line up his skin and you notice that it appears to be a bit deformed. No wonder he is in pain while walking with a cane. Your eyes follow your movements, your fingers carefully brushing over his scars. They've healed nicely. When your hands slowly start to knead his muscles, sounds escape him that make your cheeks flush. You look up, noticing how his body relaxes against the chair, eyes squeezed shut. 

"Hm. You're not bad at this." He admits, body relaxing under your touch, while you give him a small smile. 

"It's my job Mr. Ackerman." At that he only clicks his tongue, opening his eyes to meet yours. Though they might seem emotionless, there clearly is more behind them. 

"You could do your job more often then." Biting your tongue, you try not to reply something rude. 

"If that would please you." A cold smile tugged on your lip, you continue your wonders, making him lean back even more. You notice that the muscles on his tights seem sore too and you slowly make your way up his knee. He blinks at you, eyes dark and wide. If he's bothered, he doesn't let you know, observing your every touch. His skin, warm and soft, feels quite nice against your hands and you can tell that he takes good care of his body. After another minute you pause, relaxing your fingers a little. 

"Can you do that to my back too?" 

Days later you have found quite the nice routine: wake up, prepare breakfast, go to the market, clean, prepare lunch, clean, read, prepare dinner, clean, give Levi a massage and go to sleep. With him everything is about cleaning. Today you started to take notice of his changing behavior. He's not as tense anymore, keeps you company at the market and started to meet old comrades again. Happy about this, you smile, while your fingers dance over his back. For the first time since your arrival, he decided to occupy his bed, making you sit at his side, right at his laying form. His eyes are partly closed, cloudy orbs looking at you with interest. 

"You look pretty." He whispers, his words catching you by surprise. You stop, giving him a shocked look. 

"What?" The whisper barely leaves your lips and you're surprised that he heard you in the first place. 

"You heard me." He states, closing his eyes again, like nothing just happened. 

"Thank you. You look pretty too." You can't help but to smile, relaxing your fingers at his bare skin. 

"Don't mock me." He groans, his muscles flexing under your touch. 

"I'm not." It's true, to you he looks beautiful. His hair feels like silk, his skin so soft and pure. The scars do nothing to his flawless looks. 

"Whatever." Levi noticeably flinches, his gaze on his hand with the missing fingers. His condition truly is pitiful, so much Armin Arlert talked to you about it with a lowered head. 

"He was humanity's strongest." He told you, his small smile falling from his lips.

"I was told by our Commander Hange Zoë that Levi was caught in an explosion, losing sight of his right eye and two of his fingers on his right hand. While we fought against Eren, he saved one of us. Unfortunately, a titan damaged his leg permanently, leaving him basically wheel chaired." 

You knew what was coming from the beginning, you knew about his disabilities, but they never bothered you. In fact, his personality was more off putting than his wounds. Though, things got better between the two of you and you feel more comfortable in his imitating presence. You don't dare to speak, giving him time and enough room to relax in your presence. While your thoughts swing unresolved in your head, your hands seemingly move on their own gently brushing down his spine and back up to his head. A soft purre escapes his lips, ripping you from your own world. His grey eyes are looking back up at you, heavy breathes tingling your hand.

"Tease." He whispers, leaning into your touch, making you shrink back, surprised at his reaction. 

"You are so perfect, aren't you?" Levi's tone is mocking, the expression on his cracked porcelain face void of any emotion. 

"Always in those clean, ironed dresses. You make perfect tea, and you are clean. Pretty too, you have magical hands." He appears to be in a trance, glaring at you with hunger.

"Armin must have send you to seduce me, didn’t he? To keep me nice and quiet." 

'Great' you think 'he's suspicious of me.' He slowly retreats his body from the back, turning into a sitting position. 

"He did not. Commander Armin has only your best health in interest." At least that's what he told you, what you believe in. Levi mutters a disapproving "Tsk." under his breath and catches your chin in between the fingers of his left hand. Your heart jumps at the touch, beating against your rib cage rapidly. 

"Are you here to please me?" It's not the first time that he caught you off guard and certainly won't be last, but this question almost seems sad, desperate even. 

"Please you? I'm here to take care of you Sir." You state, not moving in his grasp. 

"Taking care, hm? What would you do to make me feel better?" His body closes in, his warmth and scent making you feel dizzy. 

"Everything you are in need of." You stutter, harshly closing your lids, as his fingers brush over your lips. Butterflies tingle your gut, making you wonder if it is the sudden adrenaline or something more intense. 

"You know it's been a while since I had a woman touch me that way. And while it did its medical wonders, it did wake something inside of me that I buried a long time ago." You whimper, fingers squeezing your chin. 

"Many soldiers and warriors did so. Armin most likely too. He of all people would know the desperation of a touch starved man." You open your eyes, as his hands move to the collar of your dress, pulling you flatly against him. He appears to be more aggressive now, his eyes blown wide with madness. 

"I am sorry for giving you the assumption of seducing you Sir. But I'm only here to do my duty, which is taking care of war veterans." You quietly murmur, gripping his wrists for support. You don't like the way he mistreats you; abusing the power he has a former Captain. He doesn't seem to care about your words, only glaring at you.

"You don't fool me." Levi shakes his head, voice raspy as he observes you. 

"You are like one of those poisonous plants I found outside of the walls on Paradis. Your petals are beautiful." He leans in more, lips barely touching yours. Closing your eyes again, you try to enjoy his closeness, his touch and new behavior. Your hurt nearly breaks through your chest, after it stopped beating just moments ago when his lips brushed yours. 

"But your touch and silver tongue are oh so toxic." He whispers, softly nibbling at your lip, his hands still clawing at you. 

"I'll give you something to write to Armin and your supervisor about." He knows that you exchanged letters with them, which made Jim probably even more suspicious about you. That and his body's reaction to you. While you do understand his confusion with the situation, you are way too overwhelmed to think about it now. 

His lips catch yours in an hungry attack, while his hands roam from your collar to the buttons of your dress, ripping them open. Being exposed to him and the cool air leaves you in shock and you awkwardly push him away from you. 

"Wait." You begg, holding his flexed arms in a tight grip. 

"This is not right Mr. Ackerman. Please believe me, I have no interest in seducing you, no-" A moan escapes you as his hand squeezes your breast, while his mouth moves closes around the nipple of your other one. Your faces takes the color of cherries and your rapid breath is concerning to you. Levi plays you like an instrument, making your lips leave sounds you didn't know you were able to make. 

"Torture, isn't it? It's how I've felt ever since you barged into my life." He comments, teasingly returning to suck and bite on your sensitive skin, while he leads your body down onto the soft sheets. You move underneath him, giving in to your foolish desires. 

He struggles to undress the both of you, his right hand barely able to do so. His frustration is obvious, which is why you decide to take matters into your own hands. Your legs around his hips, you turn the two of you, placing yourself over him. He seems surprised, blinking at you with astonishment. 

"Let me take care of you." You whisper at his ear, softly nibbling at his neck. Groaning, he nods his head in appreciation, letting you take the lead. You carefully open his dress shirt, revealing his defined chest and stomach. Muscles and scars litter his pale, creamy skin and you can't help yourself but to trace the dips of your fingers over it. 

The sudden sensation makes your heartbeat even faster. "You make me feel dizzy." You admit, staring deeply into his eyes, as if hypnotizing him. His gaze turns distant, as if lost in thought. The expression of longing on his face causes a lump to form in your throat. He leans forward and brushes the hair out of your face, while his eyes travel back up to meet yours. His kiss is slow and passionate. Your tongue meets his, exploring every inch of his mouth. His hands roam all over your back, as he caresses your curves. The sound of fabric tearing fills the air and you pull away slightly, noticing how he roughly freed you from your clothes.

You gasp for breath, looking down at your naked bodies. His dark eyes are full of passion while you wonder what he is thinking, while the heat rises between you. The desire inside your belly intensifies, making the need to be closer to him grow. You want to touch every part of him, to feel him.  He is hard under your fingertips and a small whimper escapes your mouth at the feeling. Levi's eyes narrow at your actions, making him press his lips against your neck, sucking and biting it. The noises coming from you only intensify, as you grind against him. His hands slowly lower to your hips, guiding you down onto him. The friction of your heated skin against each other sends chills through your spine and a low groan escapes your mouth. The moment you enter him feels like heaven. A deep sigh follows after, while his hands find their way into your hair, pulling gently.  You move your hips in synchronicity, making the friction burn hotter. Both of you are breathing heavily now and you feel yourself thrive in the heated pleasure. Levi's eyes are still locked with yours, as if in trance. His breathing accelerates to match yours and soon you are moving together again, until he grabs your hips once again, pushing himself upwards into you.  Another moan slips out of your mouth and your knees shake. You lean forward, resting your head on his shoulder, while he continues to thrust into you, faster and harder each time. He pulls at your hair and nips at your collarbone while moaning. He took the lead from you quickly, grinding rapidly against you. You relax on his chest, letting him snap his hips upwards. 

Every well angled push drives you closer to your device bliss and you can tell that Levi is close too. His thrusts get sloppier, and his little whines turn louder. Your ecstasy hits you first, and you grip on him hard, seeing soft stars. Slicing his member out of you, you feel a warm liquid squirting onto your lower belly. His eyes are closed, his breath hot and heavy, while droplets of sweat run down the side of his head. You too feel all hot and bothered, rolling yourself off him onto your back. You notice him gazing at you through his lashes, a satisfied smile on his lips. 

"That was-" you start, not finding the right word to describe your shared experience. Levi grabs for a cloth he fetched out of the pocket of his pants and carefully collects the white, liquidly strings on your belly with it. 

"You could certainly take care of me that way more often." He teases, placing a small kiss on your forehead. You grin, like a naive girl and nod your head in agreement.

"Certainly Sir." 

"Please. Call me Levi." 

[iqzo]

FOUR EYED

chapter one, armin x black reader. this is a book in which the reader is a bratty girl.

warnings: drugs, bullying, smut, sexual scenes, language.

001 ,

“Armin, don’t forget your lunch!” His mother shouted from her bedroom, armin sighs heavily. Glancing over at the navy blue bag that sat on of the marble countertop, “I won’t!” He shouted back as he stuffed the lunchbox in his bag, “Love you minnie!” She shouts, Armin chortles before turning the lock on the door he grasped the doorknob and opened it to a certain extent, “Love you too mom!” He leaves the house and locks the door behind him.

He steps down the porch steps, looking over by the house beside his own. Seeing that familiar brunette hair standing on the porch, a smile instant went on Armin’s face.

“Eren!” He shouts.

The brunette’s head snaps up with a confused glare, his bushy eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the blurry shadow figure by his front gates.

“Your glasses!” Armin shouts through a light chuckle, seeing his face relax, he digs in his bag and pulls out his glasses.

“Arminn” He smiled walking down the steps to hug his best friend, “Good morning,” Armin responds as they pulled away.

“Good morning,” Eren smiled, “What did mama Arlert give you today?” Eren questions as they began to walk along the sidewalk side by side. Armin shoulder shrugged.

“I think i got the lasagna she cooked last night.” Eren hums, “Did you see that update?” Eren asked which caused Armin’s face to screw, “Mortal Kombat or Fortnite?” “Fortnite.” He replied, “Oh yes, I haven’t gotten the chance to update it. But i’ll update it after school and we could play together.” Eren’s hands clapped from excitement of course.

“Oh crap, wait.” Eren groaned, “What happened?” Armin questioned as his eyebrow perks up. “That project from Mr. Simmins. I haven’t started on it and I need too.” Armin’s face scrunched up, he hasn’t seen anything about Mr. Simmins posting about a project. Maybe his class just hadn’t gotten there yet.

Since it’s filled with disrespectful students.

“Do you have a partner?” Armin inquired. “Yeah,” Eren blushed, “It’s Joyce.” He whispered with a full blown red face. “Isn’t she sisters with that brat?” Armin brusquely said, Eren’s shoulder shrugs softly.

“Yeah, but I think she’s the nice one.” Armin hummed.

Finally arriving early at the school, both students walked past the glass double doors. Stepping into the crowded hallways of Bridgetown HighSchool.

Armin walks over to his locker as Eren walks to his. Which was right beside Armin’s.

Armin placed in his combination, the locker opens with a snap. He stores his bag inside keeping his phone in his pants pockets. “Dude, i’m so mad i have math first period.” Eren soughed. “I thought you liked math?” Armin spoke softly as a chuckle emits from his mouth.

“Man I do but having it first period? I would rather have it in the middle of the day.” Armin chortles at his comment, “Oh no you would not. 5th period math class sucks, I’m with the brat and her hooligans.”

quick lil errr fit check.

armin’s fit

eren’s fit

y/n’s fit

joyce’s fit

anyway, back to the story.

Eren chuckled. “Damn, I feel bad for you. I just have one of her friends and they’re quiet.” Armin grins as he closes his locker causing it to lock, “Yeah cause they don’t have their freakin’ ring leader with them.” Armin scoffs as he held his english studies book between his armpits and his side.

“Hey, uhh armin right?” A girl with nice brunette lavish short hair said. Standing in front of Armin. “Yeah?” He answered eyeing the girl.

“I’m new to the school,” she chortles, “My name is Sasha.” She smiles as she placed out her hand for armin to shake.

He glanced over at Eren before returning the gaze back onto her hand, “Nice to meet you, Sasha.” He grins as he shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you too. Do you have any idea where the calculus class is?” She questions with her eyes squint. “Oh uhh.” Armin turned to Eren, “He’s going there now.” His emerald eyes panned over to the girl, “Oh, Uh, yes follow me.” He grinned as he began walking to his class as soon as the bell rang.

Armin sighs, sliding his hands into his pockets he trudges through the crowd of students who were trying to make it before that late bell rung. On his way to class, he saw you standing by his classroom door.

Looking all mad. Armin eyed you and than the outfit you had on.

The two piece juicy couture tracksuit. The fabric settling onto your body, framing it perfectly.

If it wasn’t for the way you acted, Armin would have most likely tried to take you out on a date. But you’re all bitchy because your father owns the school.

He walks pass you stepping into the classroom, your head perked up after your nose inhaled that familiar scent. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stepped inside the classroom, luckily this was your room or it would’ve been a different story.

browsing through the students trying to find that blond hair boy, seeing the tip of his hair peeking over a student you instantly made your way to the back.

Taking the empty seat beside him, you placed down your tote bag on the desk. Slightly slouched on the chair with one leg thrown over the next, “What do you want, Y/n.” Armin tiredly asked. “I wanna know why you didn’t do my chemistry homework,” Armin heavily exhaled leaning into his seat, “Bro, it’s your homework. Not mines, Y/n. You’ve could’ve done it yourself.” He jadedly said.

The tip of his pencil moved against his book, writing down every note Mr. Levi left on the board.

You sucked your teeth, completely ignoring his comment you pulled out the paper and slapped it onto his desk. “Do it.” You whispered.

Glancing away from him—Armin eyed you. That jet black lace front that framed your face and its beauty perfectly, the way your lips glimmered from the sun rays beaming through the large windows, your scent swallowed him whole. As if he couldn’t smell anything, but you.

And it made him mad. But he couldn’t do anything about it since your knuckle headed boyfriend who’s the caption of the football team is always not afraid to beat some geeks head in.

“F-Fine, whatever.” He stammered as he stores the paper into his folder, “I’ll do it after I do mines,” Your arms crossed on your stomach watching him from your peripheral vision, the way he was slouched forward writing down everything he saw on the white board, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. He takes his pointer to push it back up.

He than sits up to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, his messy blond hair framing his cubby face perfectly. As well as his black frames and his comely blue eyes.

He had a perfectly side profile, a nice snubby nose that was slightly red at the tip. His lips that were perfectly pushed outwards. His soft jawline and his adam apple that bobbed every time he’d swallowed. Olive skin that looked so soft if you were to touch it.

You swallowed dryly, looking away with an eye roll, beginning to realized that you were staring at him for too long.

part 2 soon. Hope you enjooyyyeddd, this was lowk rushed idk if u could tell it was but😭

[mamasbakeria]

hey, what's your major again?

summary: my credible expert opinion on what the aot characters would study in university. what are my qualifications? the dozens of hours i’ve spent staring at my school’s program bulletin trying to figure out what i’m majoring in

genre | includes: headcanons, sfw, minor language, uninformed percy jackson reference (pls don't hate me if im wrong)

characters: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, sasha braus, jean kirschtein, connie springer, historia reiss, ymir, reiner braun, annie leonhardt

author’s note: had this in my drafts for months now. i just need to post it so it stops haunting me. might do the rest of the marleyans and vets in the future! lmk your thoughts, my only tumblr notifications are from p*rn bots, so i'd love to hear from real people lol. enjoy <3

eren: sociology and public policy, 4+1 program for a social work masters

there’s only so many times you can hear “you’re gonna be a doctor just like your dad” before you start to believe it. that’s why eren started out with biology on the premed track. the thing is, he really didn’t care for it. eren is really passionate about lessening equity gaps and is a firm believer in “if you want something done right, do it yourself”. this is why i see him making the switch to a double major in public policy and sociology. he wants to know about how society got to the point of perpetuating disparities so that he can fix them. but he also knows that the government fucking sucks and thinks its naive to expect policy change to be the only method of change. and like the maniac he is, eren is enrolled in a 4+1 program so he can get his master’s in social work when he’s done with his undergrad. he’s determined to graduate with both degrees in just 4 years though. rip his summers.

armin: international relations and military ethics, minor in communications or smth

everyone always says armin would study marine biology or oceanographic studies, but i honestly think that it’s a passion that he pursues on the side. he takes marine bio courses for his breadth requirements, but knows he’d end up hating the ocean if he spent the rest of his life studying it. he also strikes me as someone who would rather run buck naked into traffic than sit through multiple semesters of organic chemistry. armin was always a good public speaker, though, despite being a bit insecure. that’s why his speech and debate teacher during sophomore year of high school recommended model united nations to him. he was hooked after his first conference and now genuinely sees the path of international diplomacy as his calling. that’s why he’s majoring in international relations. his concentration in military ethics is something he tacks on in his junior year after taking some courses and publishing research with dr. erwin smith. he probably minors in communications because he can.

mikasa: forensic science

mikasa had no idea what she wanted to do when she started uni. she’s good at nearly everything. like never gotten a B in her life and is the student who the curve is based off of. but excelling in every environment you’re put in often means you don’t know what you’re best at. she knew deep down that she wanted to do something justice related like her childhood best friends did, but she’s no public speaker and has no interest in political reform. she was, however, emo in high school and heard a fair share of undertaker jokes at her expense. it wouldn’t hurt to look into right? as cool as the title sounds, morticians don’t make enough money for the job they have. fortunately enough, forensic pathologists do and mikasa looks good in a lab coat. she would never admit it to spare armin and eren’s feelings, but when they, as children, recreated the crime-solving shows mrs. jaeger always had on, mikasa always wanted to be the brains. so criminology and forensic science it is. (side note: she definitely joins the military and they pay for her education)

jean: structural engineering and industrial design with a minor in studio art

more than anything, jean wants to provide for his mom and knows he can’t guarantee a retirement of luxury for her as the freelance artist he wishes he could be. he’s decent at math when he tries and doesn’t hate physics, so he decided he’d give structural engineering a try for at least a semester or two. he wasn’t expecting to get much from it, to be honest. he had a plethora of backup plans waiting for his supposedly inevitable distaste for engineering, but he found that he didn’t hate it at all. someone once told jean that he had the makings of a great leader and he didn’t believe them until he started taking the lead on design projects and producing incredible results. his only qualm is that he just doesn’t get to be as creative as he wanted to be. that was easily rectified by an additional major in industrial design and a minor in studio art. he’s unbelievably busy, busier than he anticipated when he started his post-secondary journey, but he’s content and there’s nothing some extra coffee can’t solve. 

sasha: environmental science and sustainability

sasha spent her childhood ankle-deep in mud and fighting her way through forest thickets without a compass. an upbringing like that doesn’t leave your spirit, no matter how far into the city you go for school. so sasha’s always been passively passionate about the environment. that passiveness became significantly more prominent when part of the woods she grew up in was cleared out to build an industrial complex. it was then that she started researching and writing petitions about preserving wildlife and making environmentally conscious decisions. her work actually got her the scholarship she’s on (because god knows it wasn’t her grades). and she genuinely loves what she does, so why wouldn’t she keep learning about it? the environmental science and sustainability program at the school is small, but tight-knit and known for churning out changemakers. sasha knows she’ll be one of them one day. just hide your plastic straws from her, okay?

connie: computer science and chinese

stick with me here okay? everyone expects connie to be a douchebag marketing major whose hardest assignments are graphing functions and making posters on photoshop, but he’s a lot more invested in his education than he looks. don’t get me wrong, connie has always struggled academically, but that’s because so much of early education is pre-determined. he performed way better when he could choose what courses he took. it’s kind of like percy jackson being dyslexic in english because he was wired to read in greek. connie can’t keep his eyes on a history textbook for shit, but will gladly sit in front of the c++ code on his pc for hours. he doesn’t even get mad when he realizes that he was missing a semicolon. connie loves how versatile of a future he could have with a compsci degree, because, let’s be real, he could never survive in a typical office environment. definitely takes a bunch of chinese classes and doesn’t realize that he has enough credits for it to be a minor until his second to last semester.

historia: political science with a minor in international relations and child development

historia is a lot like eren in the sense that she knows her time is best spent doing hands-on work in the fields she cares about. she realizes this sometime after reconnecting with her estranged father and volunteering at the orphanage she grew up in. but now that she’s publicly associated with a powerful political figure, historia doesn’t get to do what she wants, only what is expected of her. that’s how she ends up on the pre-law political science and public policy route. the nickname “ms. president” that connie and sasha give her only further reminds her that she’s heading down a path she never wanted for herself. after lots of encouragement from ymir, historia decided to take child development courses on the side. even if she doesn’t take on the full minor, she’s taking some classes she cares about. maybe she’ll find use for it someday. at the very least, it’s her first step in becoming the most selfish girl in the world.

ymir: data science and business management

ymir is smart. much smarter than she presents herself to be, almost as a form of protection. nobody expects much of someone who is aloof, so it makes it easy to slip through the cracks to remain safe and comfortable in the shadows. business management is notoriously low commitment and easy to skate by with. guaranteed internships, post-graduate employment, and so on. To anyone who doesn’t know ymir well, it’s perfect. but they have her mistaken, ymir will do as little as possible to go as far as possible. sure, she can live comfortably with a business degree, but it could be better with a little bit of data science in her arsenal. she’s intelligent enough to pick up on it, and determined enough to make it her bitch. yeah, academia is a money-sucking pipeline into the capitalist hellscape, she doesn’t believe in it yada yada, but at the end of the day, ymir’s gonna get the bag. so what if she’s gotta sleep through some stats classes to get it?

reiner: behavioral economics

reiner’s mother had convinced him his whole life that getting a high paying job would fix their lives and bring his father back. believing “perfect grades lead to a perfect life” made high school tough for reiner; gifted kid burnout is no joke. it really messed him up. he wasn’t sure if he could withstand the pressures of university, but here he is. reiner was never allowed a therapist, so he figured pursuing psychology would, at the very least, give him some answers and be a good pathway to a medical degree. he loved getting to understand how people work and why they act the way they do, but something was missing. he found out what it was when a guest lecturer spoke in his economics class. he knew making the switch would be risky, it’s a new field and his current career options are really only research, academia, or government, but the interdisciplinary study of behavioral economics is calling reiner’s name. 

annie: biomedical engineering and kinesiology

annie’s entire life revolved around her father, including the injury he was never able to heal from. the one she gave him. he’s claimed to be over it, she’s forgiven, but annie will never feel like she’s earned that forgiveness until she gets rid of the problem entirely. how is she going to do that exactly? with biomedical engineering. she has years of hell in front of her, especially with her concentration on biomechanics, but she doesn’t care. annie will throw herself into her work to get the results she wants. she takes the highest amount of credits possible every semester so she can graduate early. you’ll most likely find her chained to a study cubicle at the library at all hours of the day and running on 2 hours of sleep, but it doesn’t faze her. she tacks on a minor in kinesiology because it makes sense and she had most of the credits for it anyway. and as if it couldn’t get worse, she probably TAs for a thermodynamics course or something crazy like that.

© mamasbakeria 2023. do not repost, translate (without permission), or modify

[aruanimess]

What are your headcanons about Armin's parents and his relationship to them?

Hello, Al!! 

Okay, so first of all we need a last name for his mother’s side of the family. Let’s call them… Drucker (yes from the Pentiment game, you’ll see why). 

The preoccupation with the outside world comes from his mother’s side of the family. Their ancestor that came to Paradis with King Fritz managed to sneak in the book that Armin finds all these years later, and unwittingly dooms his whole bloodline to endlessly pine for life beyond the Walls. 

The reason he had this book in the first place was because the Druckers were printers. 

Armin’s grandpa operated the print shop until the tremor in his hands became too much for him to be able to work the press. 

His mother was meant to inherit the shop, but she fell in love with the local mechanic and started working with him instead. She picked up the skill very quickly and even surpassed him in ability. 

She was the one to convince his father to build the hot air balloon.

Armin was an accident. His parents always meant to travel outside; they never planned for a child. When Mrs Arlert got pregnant though, they decided not to risk it with an abortion and tried to do their best. 

Armin’s grandpa, who had been recently widowed, agreed to help as well. 

Unfortunately, they were always a bit distant. Not because they didn’t love him, but their first priority was always their dream, and they were away often, pouring over diagrams for their aircraft and making plans about their trip. 

They still wanted to return though.

Armin ended up spending most of his time in his grandpa’s place, perusing his library and playing with his tools (because Grandpa Drucker might not have been able to work enough to support himself, but he always kept busy with his passion projects). 

Little Armin didn’t mind. He loved his grandpa’s place and as long as his parents were there to cuddle him at night he was happy. 

Only one day, they never returned. 

After they were gone, Armin questioned their entire relationship, searching desperately for where he went wrong. What did he do for them to leave him without a second thought?

He never found the reason, and that was almost worse. 

Then the MPs showed up to tell them his parents had perished.

Everything made sense again. He knew his enemy and he knew his goal.

He started studying his book with renewed vigor. 

Grandpa Drucker watched from the sidelines, unable to stop him, seeing the same hopeless dream swallow up his grandson as it had his daughter, and blaming himself for showing them this blasted book in the first place. 

[crazychaoticizzy]

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

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.

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

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