#i blame eren for making write something like this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lookingforariaa · 8 months ago

Text

Attack On Titan: Workplace Romance AU ᝰ.ᐟ

ᯓ★ Y/N is a top gossip columnist at the magazine Quill, but her coworkers are convinced she’s hiding some juicy secret to always land on the front page. Little do they know, she’s secretly dating Eren Jaeger, the magazine’s annoyingly hot CEO. While Y/N works overtime to keep it under wraps, Eren thinks “discretion” means making everything a flirty game. With her coworkers watching her every move and Eren gleefully toeing the line, Y/N is starting to wonder—how long until the real gossip columnist gets out-scooped?

ceo!eren jaeger x employee!reader

You were typing away at your computer in your light pink office chair—one of those ultra-satisfying chairs that squeaked just enough to remind you it was doing its job, and made you feel like you were floating on a cloud of marshmallows.

A fluffy white pillow was wedged behind your back, offering that sweet, almost therapeutic support that made you feel like you were part-time journalist, part-time office chair connoisseur. Honestly, you’d never felt more at home in an office setting. Sure, your job was basically to stalk celebrities for a living, but at least you were doing it from the coziest nook in the entire building.

The gossip columnist team’s office? A Pinterest board of pastel-colored dreams—more comfy living room than corporate cubicle. No one else got to write gossip surrounded by throw pillows and candles.

You finished typing up your latest scoop—something about Aidan West, a popular actor known for his smoldering looks and slightly questionable life choices—who had been caught making out with his co-star in his car. While married.

Oh, and the car was parked on a busy street, practically begging for a photographer to snap the money shot. You decorated the column with pictures of the makeout sesh that were definitely taken by someone who had a clear view of everything.

You even included a particularly unflattering one of Aidan looking like he was mid-kiss and mid-crisis, and slapped a question at the end, as always, to leave the readers wondering: Is this a case of true love, or just another day of bad decisions in Hollywood?

You leaned back in your chair, swiping your fingers over the keys like an artist putting the finishing touches on their masterpiece. You took a moment to admire your work. Classic Y/N. Another gossip column ready to rock the world of the rich and famous.

Then, with a satisfying click, you sent it off to be published.

You could practically hear the storm brewing on the other end of the phone. Aidan’s publicist was likely already dialing the number of your office, getting ready to unleash a 20-minute rant about how this was an invasion of privacy, how his “personal life” was off-limits, blah blah blah. You knew the drill.

The angry, breathless phone call would come. The team would shout at you about boundaries—while ignoring the fact that Aidan was making out in broad daylight in a car that was parked on a main street like it was an undercover mission to make headlines.

Honestly, if you were trying that hard to keep a secret, maybe you should try, you know, hiding? In an alley? Under a blanket? Maybe next time, try not to let your tongue get tangled in your co-star’s while parked next to a paparazzi hotspot, Aidan.

"Done with your piece, Y/N?" Edith asked, leaning over her desk with a smile that could’ve melted an iceberg. You could tell she was genuinely fond of you.

And, honestly, who could blame her? You were the epitome of a stereotypical gossip columnist—pretty, thin, charming, with a smile that could light up a room (or a red carpet), and of course, your stories were always right there on the front page. If anyone deserved a "Most Likely to Ruin a Celebrity's Day" award, it was you, and Edith knew it.

"Yup, done," you replied, pushing your chair back a little and stretching, the smug satisfaction of a job well done settling in.

"Great, ah. I love you." Edith practically gushed, her voice syrupy sweet as she reached over to ruffle your hair. You couldn't help but laugh a little as her fingers tousled your perfectly styled locks. But you also secretly enjoyed the affection.

Edith was the head of the gossip team, a woman who could make or break a career with a single look. And she loved you. "Thanks, Edith," you said, running your hand through your hair after she pulled away. "Glad to have made your day."

"Oh, you did more than that," Edith said with a grin, eyes glinting as she glanced over at your computer screen. "You guys should learn from her," she continued, her voice raising just a touch to get the attention of the other three desks in the room.

The room was arranged in a square—two desks on one side, two on the other, facing each other like some kind of office showdown. Edith’s desk was at the head of the square.

You could feel your colleagues' eyes on you as Edith made her proclamation, and you almost wanted to laugh at the look of mixed jealousy and loathe on their faces. They'd always been jealous of your exclusives, and to be honest, you didn’t blame them. You were kind of a walking goldmine of celebrity scandals.

"She's the only one on my team that gets so many exclusives," Edith continued, practically glowing with pride. "Ugh, I’m so proud of you.

You could feel the weight of their envy. You could almost hear the mental sighs as they all shifted uncomfortably in their seats, trying not to look too sour. Of course, they didn’t know how much you enjoyed this kind of attention.

It was like a nice little bonus to your daily hustle. You put in the work—digging up dirt, charming sources, and cracking open secrets that others couldn’t touch—and now it was paying off.

"I’m just doing my job," you said, giving her a playful grin. "But thank you, Edith. It means a lot."

The other three glanced at each other, one of them named Ellie rolling their eyes dramatically. Edith caught it, though, and shot her a look that had her scrambling to pretend she was busy.

"You all could learn a thing or two." Edith added with a sigh, looking back at you with that fond gaze. Before getting up from her chair, Edith balanced a heavy stack of papers in her arms like a professional juggler. With one hand, she grasped the pile, and with the other, she pulled open the glass door to the office, the soft click of it echoing through the room.

"Where are you going?" Ellie called out, twirling her chair around to watch Edith head for the door. You could hear the annoyance in her voice, like she was still salty from Edith’s earlier praise of you.

"There's a board meeting with all the team leaders and the CEO. I'll be back in half an hour for lunch break," Edith said, her tone cheery. Ellie just nodded, though it was clear from the look on her face she was already over it.

As soon as Edith left the room, Ellie groaned audibly, rolling her chair back like it had a mind of its own and sliding it toward the desks on the other side of the room. Her desk was next to yours, and you both knew it was like the universe had conspired to make her loathe every second of it.

Honestly, it wasn't even a stretch to say that Ellie hated you. The three of them, Emma, Elena, and Ellie, had always been like this tight-knit little squad. You were the odd one out—invited to a few things just because they had to include you. But the underlying tension? You could cut it with a knife.

"Fuck, whenever she brings up the CEO's name… god," Ellie groaned from the other side, almost sounding like she was about to have a moment of religious revelation. "He's so hot, I can't even."

You could practically hear the eye roll from across the room, but you chose to ignore it, swiping at your phone mindlessly to pretend you're busy. You didn't need to give them the satisfaction of knowing you were paying attention.

"I know, right? God, one time I saw him walking down the halls... he's so gorgeous. Those emerald eyes," Emma chimed in, her voice all breathy and dreamy, probably twirling her blonde hair around her finger like she thought that made her more charming.

"I talked to him once! Even his voice is so soothing, and ughhhh!" Elena squealed from the far corner. You could imagine her fanning herself like she’d just encountered a literal Greek god in the flesh.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, feeling a bit smug as the conversation played out on the other side of the room. There was something oddly satisfying about hearing those women—who barely tolerated you—fawn over Eren. They were practically worshipping the ground he walked on, all while you sat there, silently relishing the fact that he belonged to you.

It was like some sort of secret victory, a quiet reminder of your position in this weird little office dynamic. You didn’t have to announce it to the world, but knowing that you were the one who had his attention—it made you feel like you had something they would never have. That kind of power? It was intoxicating.

You leaned back in your chair, a smug little grin pulling at your lips. How lucky you were. Not just because of the high-profile job you had, not just because of your talents and connections, but because Eren Jaeger—the CEO, the legend, the man with the emerald eyes—was obsessed with you.

He would go to the ends of the earth for you. Hell, he’d burn the entire world down just to catch a single glimpse of your face.

You almost laughed at the thought. The guy was so over-the-top obsessed when it came to you. It was a bit ridiculous, honestly. He would drop everything at the slightest hint that you needed him.

He was yours, body and soul, and you couldn’t help but feel proud about it. While they were dreaming about him, you were living the dream.

And that? That was a kind of power no one else could touch.

"Y/N," Edith called as she walked into the room, her grey hair pulled back in a neat bun, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Without even glancing at you, she pushed them up impatiently, the way she always did when she was busy flipping through some important document, her fingers sticky from licking them to turn the pages. "Eren's calling for you—something about the recent article you published."

"Oh, alright." You flashed a quick, mischievous smile at Ellie, who was practically scowling at the sight of you. The sour look on her face made you bite back a laugh—it was so satisfying to watch her stew in jealousy.

With a slight roll of your eyes, you grabbed your phone and headed for the door, walking with a confident swing in your step. Before exiting the room, you quickly applied a coat of lip gloss to make sure you looked perfect—you never knew when you'd need to throw a dazzling smile his way.

You could practically feel the eyes of your coworkers burning a hole in your back as you made your way to the elevator, stepping into the opulent space as the doors closed behind you. You pressed the button for the 15th floor, allowing the soft hum of the elevator to mask your thoughts as you prepared yourself for whatever Eren might have in store.

When the elevator doors opened, you stepped out into the familiar sleekness of his floor—everything about this place screamed power, prestige, and Eren Jaeger. You approached his office with purpose, walking past the impressive glass walls and knocking lightly on the door before entering.

Eren was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to you, looking out over the city with his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit. His hair was tied back into the usual bun, the sharp lines of his face softened by the glow of the afternoon sun.

You cleared your throat lightly, standing at the door, your lips pulling into a playful, innocent smile. "Hi, sir. You called for me?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, I did," Eren said with a smirk, playing along with the unspoken game you had both become experts in. His voice, low and smooth, gave you chills. "I needed your help with something, actually. Would you come here for a second?"

You grinned, not missing a beat. You walked over to his massive desk, gliding past it, the soft click of your heels the only sound in the room. You rounded it carefully, pausing just in front of him, where a series of sketches were laid out. They were potential logos for the new column that was set to launch in Quill.

You bent forward slightly, inspecting the designs, your fingers hovering over a few, teasing them with the thought of selecting the best one. Eren’s towering figure loomed behind you, the warmth of his presence unmistakable.

Then, his hand landed on the desk with a heavy thud—an action that immediately drew your attention. But the real shock came when his other hand slid down your waist, pulling you closer. He leaned down, his lips barely brushing the edge of your ear as his voice dropped to a whisper.

"Which one do you think looks the best?" Eren asked, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. The touch was gentle, but you could feel the heat radiating from him, pressing you against the hard edge of the desk.

You felt your breath hitch slightly as his proximity intensified. You smirked to yourself, trying to keep the situation light. "You needed my help with this?" You whispered back, keeping the playful tone in your voice, even as his fingers tightened around your waist.

"You couldn’t have figured this out yourself?" You chuckled softly, your hand lifting on its own accord to wrap around the side of his neck, fingers grazing his hair, pulling lightly at the ends. The movement pressed you closer, your back now flush against his chest, solid and unyielding.

Eren’s laugh rumbled in his chest, warm and dark, the kind of laugh that always seemed to promise something more. “Actually…” His voice was thick with amusement, as he leaned even closer, his breath skimming your ear, sending another shudder through you. “I needed help with something else…”

He swiftly turned you around, your breath hitching in anticipation as he lifted you effortlessly onto the desk, the cool surface contrasting with the heat radiating between you. His hands gripped your thighs, prying your legs open and positioning himself between them with an urgency that made your heart race.

His lips crashed against yours, a frenzied hunger igniting the moment. Soft sighs escaped you, merging with his groans.

It had been an agonizing week apart—a business trip that felt like an eternity. Each day without him had worn on you, but now, with his body so close, the need you’d tried to suppress surged to the surface. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper against you, coaxing him to close the distance that had felt insurmountable just moments ago.

His grip on your waist tightened, possessive yet electrifying, while the other hand tenderly caressed your cheek, grounding you amidst the rising tension.

“God, I missed you so much,” he breathed into the kiss, his voice thick with desire. The warmth of his breath fanned over your lips, sending shivers down your spine.

“I missed you too,” you gasped, the words barely escaping as he began to trail kisses down your neck, each touch igniting a fire beneath your skin. His hand, once resting on your cheek, now slid down your body, fingertips grazing over your curves before venturing beneath your mini skirt, teasingly caressing your inner thigh.

“Did you really have to go away for a whole week?” you whined, your voice a playful mix of frustration and longing as you pulled his head up gently, your foreheads meeting in a tender connection.

“Trust me, I was dying without you,” he admitted, his voice warm, laced with sincerity. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the closeness and the feel of your presence. “Everywhere I looked, I saw you. Your laugh, your smile—they haunted me every moment.”

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, a rush of affection mingling with the lingering tension in the air. “You have no idea how much I counted the days,” you replied softly, your gaze locked onto his. The truth of your feelings hung heavily between you, the longing palpable as you both shared the weight of the past week apart.

He smiled, his expression was a mix of relief and adoration, and you simply couldn’t help but lean in closer, your lips just inches from his. “I’m so happy I’m with you now,” he whispered, his breath a warm caress against your skin.

With that, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepened with every second. You could feel his passion envelop you, as if he were trying to pour a week’s worth of missing you into this single moment. His hands moved to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and pulling.

One of your hand went to the desk to support you and hold you up while the other went to grab at his forearm which was wrapped around your waist.

“Ah, Eren, I needed to ask you one thing—” Edith’s voice drifted into the room as she walked in, eyes still fixed on a stack of documents, completely oblivious to the scene unfolding before her.

Your heart dropped, the pulse in your ears drowning out everything else. Oh no. No, no, no, you thought, the thrill of your stolen moment vanishing in an instant. You felt the color drain from your face as you registered the look on Edith’s face.

“Oh my—” Edith froze, her mouth slightly open as she finally looked up from her papers and saw the two of you—very much entangled, with you perched on Eren’s desk, your face inches from his, his hand resting a little too intimately on your waist.

Her face went through a series of emotions—shock, realization, maybe even a little amusement—before she stammered, turning beet red. “I’m… so sorry… I’ll, um, leave,” she managed, holding up her papers in some vague, futile attempt to block her view as she quickly backed out.

The door closed with an audible click, leaving you both in stunned silence. You exchanged a wide-eyed look with Eren, who broke into a guilty, lopsided grin.

“Well…” he murmured, scratching the back of his neck. “So much for keeping secrets.”

Fuck.

104 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 2 years ago

Text

lacy, oh lacy

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: oopsie. mentions of blood/injury. I think drinking is like briefly mentioned at one point.

an: ok. ok. the song line up in this one is so random i swear.

songs mentioned: peace by taylor swift, city of stars by ryan gosling and emma stone, promiscuous by nelly, lacy by olivia rodrigo

previous part linked here

You return home and stay there for an entire month, despite protests from Danny and Sareen. But anytime they try to push back, you remind them.

Your older brother split his head open because someone threw a brick through his window. Because of a situation they got you involved in.

Granted, they’re not fully to blame since you did agree to it, but Levi and Hange vehemently disagree. The two of them were very passionate about the fact that managers have a responsibility to protect their artists and the fact that Danny and Sareen even asked you to do something like this has them fuming. And by them, you mean Levi. He yelled at them on the phone after the pictures dropped.

Regardless, your contract with them won’t be over until the end of the year. The only way you can terminate is if you break the deal with the record company, but then you have to promise them majority royalties that you make with any other songs you release until the two years are up.

Which isn’t bad. You could just not write music for two years. But there’s some sense of loyalty, a need to maintain face so someone else does sign with you later on, you’ve proved you’ll be loyal. And that your records won’t suffer because of internal politics.

But for now, all you’re focused on is Colt and Falco.

Falco, who is quite literally a human cat (in the cute way, not the Catoru Gojo way), is currently nestled up in your lap and fast asleep. After two hours of playing Rocket League, which you actually suck at, and then another two hours of arguing about how stupid the game is (cars playing soccer???), he finally passed out.

Colt knocks, the scar along his hairline bright red, as he hands you a bowl of cereal and settles onto your bed with his laptop. Which he’s been doing often lately - lingering around in your room, never leaving you alone. Hovering.

He’s applying for summer internships, because apparently that’s a thing that normal people and not celebrities do. Not that you would know anything about that.

“Thanks Colt.”

He gives you a hum as he types away on his laptop, his jaw clenched in concentration. But all you can do is stare at that bright red line near his golden blonde hair and how angry it looks. There’s four sets of stitches in place, the area around the entire mark so pink and swollen. And he’s blinking too hard, eyes squinting at the laptop even though the brightness is all the way down. Meaning, his head is still hurting. You make a mental note to call the doctor again tomorrow.

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Quit staring.”

“I’m not staring. And stop being so loud, Coco is sleeping.” you whisper.

“Were you born yesterday? He’d sleep through the apocalypse if he had to.”

You bring your hand down to Falco’s hair, soft under your touch, as he snores into your legs.

“Not lately. Y-yesterday, he came into my room crying in the middle of the night. Said he had a nightmare of glass shattering but it was just someone parking across the street.”

Colt looks over, his glasses resting against his nose, and gives Falco a worried look.

“He just- he was there when it happened, that’s all.” Colt murmurs, voice all quiet.

“You never told me what did happen.”

Colt closes the screen of his laptop and sets the computer in between you, as he readjusts on his side. His hand is now in Falco’s hair, making a mess of his already matted hair.

“I-I was sitting in your room.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I do that when I miss you. Just sit in here, with Chelsea and all these god awful posters you have.”

You smile, reaching forward to squeeze his hand which he rolls his eyes at.

“You’re cute. You miss me?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay, Jesus.”

“Falco came to sit with me too. Also, he totally ate chocolate on your bed and spilled some on the carpet.”

“Remind me to kill him when he wakes up. Is that what’s under that god awful rug you guys put in here?” you respond, grating your teeth.

He ignores the comment all together and keeps going.

“I kept getting a lot of texts from my classmates and stuff like that, like a few hours after. About the pictures of you and the rumors and all that. And I called you and Eren picked up and he told me about how you came to him, all bloody and cold. He told me that you were finally sleeping so he didn’t wake you. Said to call him back if I needed something.”

Sweet, sweet Eren.

“And then I heard it. This rustling, by the side doors. Now, I know that Sandra putting the trash cans back is really loud from your room, but it was Friday. Trash day is on Tuesday. So I peeked my head out the window to see what the noise was and that’s when they threw the brick. It went through the glass and hit me.”

You clench his hand, which he shakes his head at. He’s rubbing small circles into your skin as he keeps going, his voice so hollow it bothers you.

“I fell over. Started bleeding onto your carpet and Falco finally noticed. And, and he was holding my head trying to stop the bleeding. He figured it was the right thing to do after how much Grey’s Anatomy you’ve forced him to watch. Mom and Dad came in and I told them to call Eren and not you, because you were probably still asleep. Eren sent us a security detail super fast, he said it’s the one he’s been using since he was a kid so we can trust them. They got here in like twenty minutes and did the stitches on me.”

You look at him and he wraps his arms around you, Falco meshed in between the two of you. And you stay that way for a while, in each other's embrace, as the guilt sits with you. And when Colt falls asleep too, you reach for your notebook and scribble the lyrics down.

As long as danger is near And it's just around the corner, darling 'Cause it lives in me No, I could never give you peace

You slide out of their embrace, leaving the two of them tangled on your bed as you hike your knees to your chest and sit on the floor to write properly. And when you lift the rug on the ground out of curiosity and piece it all together - that they’re covering up the dark, brown mark of Colt’s blood on your carpet, you keep writing.

I’ll give you my sunshine, give you my best But the rain is always going to come if you’re standing with me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Your phone buzzes three times and you reach for it, sliding it open to read the notification.

eren: attachment, two images

eren: saw you earlier today. ur face card is insane.

You open up the picture, one of him and Lana in Los Angeles with a billboard of you in the back. You had seen them on Twitter, Spotify putting up big pictures of the Ribbons album cover, with Multi-Platinum in shiny letters right next to it.

The first picture is of Eren and Lana blowing kisses towards the billboard of you and the second is Eren choking Lana a few seconds after. The photos are live, so you hold down and watch Eren and Lana move in the picture, Eren’s laugh coming through.

you: please don’t choke my wife. she’s too hot to die young.

eren: i hate you guys. i really do.

you: are you jealous?

eren: you were mine first >:P

eren: how’s falco? he hasn’t responded to my text since yday :/

you: please stop texting my thirteen year old brother. you’re such a loser.

you: idk. he had a nightmare last night about what happened. i don’t think he’s taking it too well.

eren: it’s hard. he’s still so little. how’s colt?

you: his cut looks like it hurts and he keeps squinting at his computer still. i feel like he’s trying to put on a brave face for me or something.

eren: he’s older than you and he’s always taken care of you. he’s going to do that still, and you should just let him. how are you?

You pause.

You’re sick to your stomach. Because all you’ve been able to do is read what people say about you online. And what gets you, is that everyone thinks you’re so fake. And you think so hard, read so much into what they’re saying, that you almost start thinking it’s true.

Is the “I’m a small town Canadian girl an act?” You haven’t lived here in years. And you can’t say you’re not famous anymore - because you’ve literally broken records before, multiple times over. And you’re not really a fraud anymore, despite the fact that you still feel like one. You fake relationships, your friends don’t like you, and…and…..

You’re fake. Your mistakes are on display and some people think you deserve to die for it.

eren: where’d you go?

you: sorry. im trying my best to hold on. i was just writing a song.

eren: LEMME SEE.

you: no.

eren: LET ME SEE.

You take a picture of the lyrics, messily scribbled in your book and send him a picture. And then nearly a minute later, Eren’s name is flashing across your screen and he’s calling you. You quickly walk into Falco’s room and take a seat by his little balcony, sliding the call open.

“Hi Eren.”

“Oh, Y/N. Sweetheart.”

And at the sound of him calling you that, of him calling you sweetheart still, has tears burning down your face and tiny sobs leaving your mouth.

“If the rain is always going to come if I’m standing with you, I’ll just hold an umbrella.”

“Eren.”

“That’s how they feel about it too. Both of them. I know it’s different when it’s me because I understand, because we’re used to this, but they love you. You are enough for them, even if you come with this thing behind you. That you can’t control, mind you.”

“I know that, Eren. But I want them to have that, I want their lives to be peaceful and I want Falco to sleep through the night without waking up. I don’t want to give Colt to get hurt because of me-”

“Every time I call them, all I hear is them worried about you. That you’re going to pull away from them, because you’re scared of hurting them. And-and I told you how much it sucks when you’re on the other side of that. Granted, Zeke’s a sick fuck who did it to mess with me but…please don’t do that to Colt or Falco. You’re going to actually hurt them if you do that. Pull away.”

You pause, taking in Eren’s words. Eren and Zeke. Zeke got canceled and stopped talking to Eren all together. Insulted him, made fun of him, and didn’t say anything at all. And, and it hurt him so bad that when Eren told you, that he was crying.

No. You’re not doing that to Falco or to Colt. God forbid they feel like they’re unlovable because you can’t let them in.

“You-you’re right, Eren. Thanks. That-that actually helps.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I-I didn’t even realize. I forgot that this has happened to you. Are-are you okay? I know this type of thing can be triggering, I should have asked before.” you respond.

He’s quiet.

“Eren?”

“Yeah. It-it wasn’t easy.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve-”

“No, no. I don’t mean like, it wasn’t easy and you shouldn’t have come to me. It was more…eye-opening I guess. It hadn’t happened in so long that I forgot about it. It was a harsh reality check when it was you of all people knocking on my door. I hate that I can’t protect you from these types of things.”

“I’m sorry, Eren. You-”

You pause. What do you say? What do you say to him when this is all he’s known? All he’ll ever know? And when you know all too well that there really is nothing he can do?

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N. Knowing you’re here with me is enough.”

Fucking mind reader. You hate it when he does this.

“God. Quit reading my mind.”

“Can’t help it. I know you like the back of my hand. And I am saying that in earnest. This shit sucks, I’ve dealt with it forever. But you make things easy. Your presence is enough comfort, okay?”

There’s a beat on the phone call. He doesn’t speak and you don’t either. And you can feel your cheeks burning.

“Eren?”

“Hm?”

“Since when do you call my brothers?” you ask, sniffling.

“Ah, you know. Since it happened. But in all fairness, Falco calls me first most of the time.”

“How many times have you talked to him?”

“Like every day or every other day at least. Kid is so ridiculous.”

“Eren. You don’t even call me that much.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No, it’s not the same if I have to ask you to do it. And plus, your new best friend is probably going to get all mad at me.” you tease, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart. I’ll call you more, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t say yeah like that.”

“Like what?”

“God, Y/N. Quit flirting with me or I’m going to fall in love with you.”

Your heart does a somersault, a cartwheel, a back handspring, and everything in between. Eren throws blankets over your barbed wire and shamelessly flirts with you after like it’s nothing.

The song comes out in the middle of your preliminary press tour for Ten Things I Hate About You and instantly becomes a hot topic the interviewees focus on. You’ve been stuck working all day. You can’t even comment on whether or not the song is about you if you wanted to.

Historia released her latest single, for her new and upcoming album, called Lacy. And everyone thinks the song is about you, that it’s a response to dorothea. And when you get home from the warm lights nearly cooking you on the stage, you immediately run and pull up the video on your computer, Yuuta and Rika taking residence in your room while you do.

The music video is simple, a black and white video of Historia and Eren in a recording studio, singing the song. Eren’s nimble hands are plucking the strings of the guitar and Historia’s sweet, soft voice is carrying the vocals.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time Watching, hidden in plain sight And ooh, I try, I try, I try But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere The sweetest torture one could bear

You keep listening, focusing intently on how anyone could even connect the song to you. Granted, from what you’re gathering, the song is about someone Historia knows that she idolizes, focuses on so much that it makes her feel bad about herself. Like an obsession.

You are put into constant competition with each other, down to the time your records come out. People make it a point to comment on who would become a triple threat first - her or you - or pigeon hole the tiniest details into some big feud between the two of you. The only time your song leaves the #1 spot on the top of the charts is when Historia releases a new one, the only time her movie falls in popularity is because yours comes out.

But that doesn’t mean it’s about you.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots You got the one thing that I want Ooh, I try, I try, I try Try to rationalize, people are people But it's like you're made of angel dust

You freeze. That’s where the connection comes in. The ribbons in your hair. Not only is your record literally called Ribbons, but the entire tour, press, even the cover of the album is you with varying colors of ribbons in your hair.

If that’s true, then…Historia stopped talking to you because of it? Because people pit her against you one too many times and it makes her feel bad about herself? You reach for your phone.

you: eren.

eren: y/n. what can i do you for?

you: is lacy about me?

eren: just saw ur lip sync battle with sukuna. i’m inconsolable.

He’s changing the subject. Though, you were waiting for him to bring that up. Your final stop on the press tour before finishing and returning to filming was doing the infamous lip sync battle - with you and Sukuna against Yuuta and Rika. And in true Yuuta and Rika fashion, they did a super lovey dovey rendition of City of Stars, from La La Land. Which only made it funnier that you and Sukuna just sang Promiscuous and made it rain dollar bills on each other.

you: i’m sure your heart is very broken. but quit changing the subject.

eren: it is. i’ll never love again.

you: eren. answer the question. you know how much this entire hisu thing has bothered me.

eren: i’m sorry, sweetheart. you know i can’t talk about things historia told me in confidence, as much as i want to.

you: eren. are you seriously telling me that historia stopped being my friend because OTHER PEOPLE were comparing us? that’s so stupid.

eren: don’t pigeon hole the lyrics. you don’t even know if it’s about you. and even if it is, give historia some slack. this entire thing we do is complicated. and she’s always felt things so deeply.

you: you’re a traitor. you’re supposed to be on my side.

eren: sometimes being the devil's advocate is being on your side.

you: don’t quote me back to me. being annoying isn’t a good look on you.

You throw your phone back and replay the song. Four times, each time doing exactly what Eren told you not to do and pigeonholing the lyrics. But you keep going over it in your head. That if it really is about you, then the way you are, the success you have is so obsessive for Historia that it made her start hating herself. That she feels like she can’t compare, so much so, that she’d avoid you all together.

It stings. You were girls together.

The last time you talked to Historia was months ago, when you were still taking your month off and staying with Colt and Falco. And even that was an exception to her normal radio silence and the miles she put between you two.

The call came in the middle of the night, right after you made sure Falco and Colt were both asleep. What you were expecting was Eren - who was too overprotective and kept calling to check if you were okay. But instead, Historia’s name and the picture of the two of you - fast asleep on the couch on the Attack on Titan set - was flashing across the screen.

“Y/N?”

“Hisu? Is it really you.”

She awkwardly laughs.

“Yeah. Hi. I was just calling to check up on you. I would take time off to come see you like everyone else but I’m stuck on set.”

“No problem. I-I’m staying home anyways. With Coco and Colt.”

“That’s nice. I’m glad, you-you never were one to take a break.”

You pause.

“So. Um-”

“You’re okay, right? I-I saw the pictures. The entire thing is really shitty and I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. How are you?”

“I’m about to go on release my album in a few months. Then go on tour. ”

“Yeah, I’ve been watching all the press. You’re amazing, I-I’m really excited to listen, yeah? I’ve always been your number one fan.”

There’s a beat. She doesn’t respond right away and the silence sticks in your mind, even if it’s only for a few seconds.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’ve always been really sweet.”

“You too, yeah?”

“Listen. I have to go. But take it easy, yeah?”

“Okay. Bye Hisu.”

It’s static.

You reach for your phone and pull up the chat between you and her and text.

you: just listened to lacy, hisu. another hit, once again.

And after you can’t help but think about it. Are these the compliments that hit like bullets on skin? She never responds. You take that as a yes.

You stare at the screen, eyes focused on the texts. That have been bothering you for a few days. Five texts, all left unanswered by Eren.

Your novelty is wearing off. Eren’s done talking to you.

You’re making it up. You’re making it up and it’s only because you’re so used to his quick witted responses that it’s bothering you. That he hasn’t responded yet. You read them over again, double, triple checking what you said.

you: saw this ugly toad ceramic at the store. reminded me of you.

you: i’ll buy it for you.

you: i think jean is going to propose to mika. and i know they’ve literally been together since we were fifteen but we are ONLY TWENTY TWO.

you: it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other!!!

you: armin and i were thinking of coming down for your birthday! meet all ur lil set friends and see connie again and stuff :’)

It sits with you in a weird way. Because you know that he responded to Armin an hour ago, about his birthday. And said that it was best that you both didn’t come just because of how busy it was, that he’d probably only get to spend an hour with you guys.

Armin is insistent on going anyway. And you just miss Eren. Sukuna pads into the room and finds you like this, with your phone flat on your bed and the way you’re leaning over the covers and staring intently at it.

“Just climb in, why don’t you?” he mutters, falling flat on your bed.

“Hello to you too. Why are you in my trailer?”

“Bored. Lonely. Horny. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes and side shuffle to make room for him, his stupid musky smell enveloping the air. What you were expecting to be an unpleasant co-star was anything but, because you and Sukuna have slowly been sweeping hearts.

From the way you guys argue during press, how Sukuna shamelessly flirts with you, to your shared need to fight with each other - you’re quickly ramping up the popularity around the rom-com you aren’t even done filming.

“So. What the fuck are you staring at?”

“Nothing.”

“Talk.” he says sternly, lifting his hand to knock on your head.

Absolute caveman.

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure.”

“How are you so blunt?”

He turns over, a look of confusion spread on his face. You follow suit and turn over too, eyes focused on the tattoos that litter his skin. All the way around his neck and his arms and on instinct, you nervously reach for your own.

“Are you tired of being a pushover, Y/N?”

“What? I’m not a pushover, I’m just-”

You stop. Maybe not the word you would use, people pleaser seems more like the explanation for it. Maybe if you cared less about Eren, about what he thought of you, it would be easier. Maybe if you wanted him less it would be easier to be his friend.

“I’m going to tell you something and you can’t repeat it to anyone, doll. I’m trusting you here, okay?”

“Okay. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I learned quickly that you can’t let anyone have a pull on you. Because when you do, you’ll do anything. Believe anything. And it’ll be your downfall if you let it.”

You take in his words. And he doesn’t talk for a while, eyes focused on the brown ceiling of your trailer.

“I went a long time without doing what I felt was right. What people were pulling me to do this and that, what I had to do. And when I reached a certain point, I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Hundreds, thousands of people loved me and I didn’t even know who I was looking at in the mirror.” he says.

“Well, I hardly doubt it was thousands, Sukuna. You’re quite irritating.”

He brings his hand down on your face, laughing. His face is uncharacteristically soft and he resembles Yuuji too much. Granted, they are fucking twins but the expression - it’s one you’ve only seen reflected on his face and never Sukuna’s.

“You’re tolerable when you’re like this, Y/N. You’re always such a pain in the fucking ass.”

“You’re normal like this. It’s nice. You should do it more often.”

There’s a beat. And he’s thinking.

“Being blunt is the only way I’m sure. That I’m being myself, because that’s what’s coming to mind. And in a place where almost everyone is lying, trying to pit everyone else against each other and bring them down for entertainment, honesty is the only way I make it out.”

You nod, sinking in his words. Thinking back to Sukuna, when you met him. When he was on again and off again with Hyla, how he said that he would just get pulled so deeply into things that he didn’t even realize what was going on till he was out of it. That it was blinding.

“So what was bothering you?”

“Ah. You know, the whole Historia thing.”

He laughs.

“Lacy, oh lacy. Skin like puff pastry.”

You snort.

“I can’t even tell if that’s a compliment or not. Aren’t puff pastries really dry and crumbly?”

“I think she meant to say pasty. Like a ghost.” he responds.

“I don’t know, Sukuna. I guess I feel bad. That we’re always in competition and that it seems like my mere existence just makes it hard for her.”

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“You know what Historia does when she puts you on a pedestal?”

“What?”

“Gives herself no room to stand next to you. And leaves you up there alone.” he says, the tone in his voice definitive.

You pause.

“When the fuck did you become so wise?”

“Beauty and brains, Y/N. There isn’t a thing I can’t do.” he responds, giving you a stupid smirk.

The pictures drop on Twitter three weeks later, on your last week of filming, and give you a bittersweet reaction. The first one, when you see it, makes your heart drop. Maybe even break a little.

Eren and Hyla, all curled up on a yacht kissing each other. Eren looks great, phenomenal even, and people make no point to keep that information to themselves. He’s getting more and more fit as time goes on, the stupid sunglasses he’s wearing, and his hair long again - people are going feral for Eren Jaeger. And Hyla is Hyla - gorgeous, brilliant, and beautiful.

Granted, this entire feeling is on you for making the assumption. That Eren taking care of you after the Ricky thing, that you guys constantly text again like you used to, is any inclination that he likes you. Especially when he started slipping away.

It’s simple. Eren’s your best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. You dropped the ball and let him go and now he’s someone else’s.

You’re fish together because you’re friends, because you get each other. And that alone is a testament to your relationship. That it can’t be replaced.

But it doesn’t make it sting any less. Especially when he gives you no warning beforehand.

But in a nice, karmic way, the second picture makes it all better. It’s Eren throwing up over the side of the boat. Right after kissing Hyla.

Eren and his sensitive stomach save the day. He’s trending for both how great he looks and for how ridiculous it is that he literally vomited after kissing his girlfriend.

“Sukuna. Come here.”

“Hm? What do you want?”

“Let’s send him a picture.” you say, pointing at the pictures.

Sukuna, in true Sukuna fashion, has printed out both pictures and framed them for the trailer.

For Sukuna, the entire ordeal is priceless. Because Eren and Hyla being together is funny, but Hyla being so atrocious that Eren throws up after they kiss is even funnier. He’s already tweeted so much about it that everyone’s dying over Sukuna and how petty he is. Truly, the only person who could get away with this.

You debate addressing the elephant in the room with Eren. Granted, calling a model like Hyla an elephant is almost ironic but, you digress.

If it was a big deal, he would give you a warning. So you shouldn't. But maybe you should tell him you don't care and that it's okay that he's with her.

What are you saying? He doesn't need your permission. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

You put the frame against the mirror, making sure Eren can see you and Sukuna laughing in the reflection as you take a picture of the frame. And the fact that Sukuna’s not wearing a shirt, that he’s leaning all over you, should trigger some type of reaction. Or you at least hope it will.

“Give him hell, doll. Stupid prick.” he says, shuffling away back to the other side of his trailer.

You give him a smile as you slide open your phone, sending him the picture. And then you follow and plop onto Sukuna’s bed, which has him nearly trying to cut off your circulation by smothering a pillow in your face.

A gentleman.

you: eren jaeger, the man that you are

eren: FUCKING STOP. JEAN IS ALREADY DOGGING ME ON TWITTER.

you: an instant classic. you are never living this down, my friend.

you: the fact that connie has said nothing yet is almost concerning. this has him written all over it.

eren: tell sukuna i will kill him. he’s got his dirty paws ALL OVER YOU TOO

you: possessive much?

eren: i am a simple man. and you two together has been a sore spot for me since i was sixteen. there’s only so much i can stomach.

you: protect your peace, king. this movie is not going to be easy for you.

eren: WHY?????

you: has a lot of smooching. and you KNOW sukuna gets carried away.

eren: blocked. I hate you.

eren: never talk to me again. i refuse to come to the premiere.

you: hehe.

eren: do NOT hehe me. im going to cry myself to sleep. do you relish in my pain?

you: a little bit. sweet dreams!!!

eren disliked a message.

Sukuna leans over and reads the messages as Yuuji and Rika walk in, with Yuuta and Annie in tow. You give them all a smile as they fall onto the bed with you two, stuck in their own conversations. Annie and Rika are talking about Rika’s birthday that’s coming up and Yuuji’s too busy trying to swipe Annie’s phone, for god knows what reason.

“This is insane. He’s all but fucking another girl on a yacht but talking to you like this? After ignoring you too?” Sukuna mutters, glaring at you.

“It’s not like that. We-we’re just friends. And it’s funny to joke about it.”

“You’re just friends. Yeah, and I’m the Thirteenth Disciple of Jesus, Y/N.” he responds, bitingly sarcastic.

“You and Judas would get along.” you respond.

“You’re being stupid. I’m not buying you ice cream when you come to me crying when he stops texting you.”

“You would. Begrudgingly, probably while hurling a bunch of insults at me, but you would.”

He reaches forward and flicks your forehead. A telltale sign that even he knows he would, because he isn’t rejecting the notion. Yuuta scoots over and flicks Sukuna’s hand off, giving you a smile.

“What are you arguing about over here?” he asks, giving you a warm smile.

“Eren.”

“Oh, I just saw the pictures. Poor guy.” Yuuta says, an awkward hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yuuta. Got a question.” you say, propping up on your elbows.

You explain the whole situation to Yuuta. That you and Eren dated. And then you didn’t. And then he saved you from Ricky, that you guys were texting again, but he’s dating Hyla now, full on and out in the open. And then let him read the texts and ask him.

“Now tell me, Yuu. Who is in the wrong?”

“Sukuna.”

You give Yuuta a glimmering smile as Sukuna rolls his eyes, reaching forward to headbutt both of you down into the mattress. You both protest and smack him off, giving him the finger.

“The only person on this Earth who is more goo goo ga ga and down horrendous than you is Yuuta. You picked a biased person to intervene.” he says, seething.

“Did not. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, quit playing dumb, doll. Yuuta and Maki are worse than you and Eren. Break up, make up, argue loud as fuck in the middle of the street, just to be kissing in the park the next day.”

“You just don’t get it. You can’t relate to the situation, Sukuna. Sometimes you just can’t stay away. Have you ever been in love?”

“Every time I look at you, doll.”

“Ugh. You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

The bell rings outside the trailer, signaling the call time for set, and Sukuna makes it a point to give you his warning.

“You’re treading on thin ice, doll. And when you fall, it’s going to be no one’s fault but your own.”

“For someone who claims he’s not a disciple of Jesus, you sure like to act self righteous as fuck all the time.” you respond, pushing him into the food cart near the directors chair.

Sukuna rolls his eyes as he drags you by the arm to your chairs, propped up, as you watch Yuuta and Rika take their marks, with Annie and Yuuji in the back. Sukuna’s glaring at you, bloody murder, unable to drop what he’s talking about.

“Look. Even for normal people, it’s never a good sign to be friends with your exes. And I bet he’s already being suspicious as fuck, despite the fact that he puts this whole goofy best friend persona on and flirts with you once in a while.”

“He does not. He-he’s not like that, all calculated and manipulative. You know him, he’s like a walking cheeseball.”

“He was a walking cheese ball. But at some point, you become the people you surround yourself with.”

“Okay, Sukuna. I fucking hate it when you’re all cryptic as fuck. You go on and on about how fucked up the people Eren’s around are. But you never once say what they actually do.”

He frowns, glaring at you.

“Why do you think Connie and Eren are fighting?”

You pause, thrown off by the question.

“Connie and Eren aren’t fighting. They’re like best friends. Connie’s even going to be in his next movie, Sukuna.”

“You said it yourself. It’s weird that Connie hasn’t commented on Eren’s whole vomit-gate moment. They’re filming a movie together, but they haven’t taken any pictures. And I can bet you ten bucks that Eren hasn’t said shit about him being there.”

You don’t respond. Because he’s right. Eren hasn’t said anything about being there. And Connie hasn’t even talked to you in weeks.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it? That he’s pulling away?”

“Eren isn’t pulling away, Sukuna. He just has a girlfriend, it’s obviously not going to be the same between us as before.”

“Bullshit. You know he’s pulling away. What does he do? Forget to text back once in a while but then flirt to make it better? Tell you you’re pretty when pictures of him and Hyla drop? You’re ignoring every gut feeling you have about him because you want to keep him around.”

“Fuck you, Sukuna.” you respond, warm tears filling your eyes.

This is what you hate about Sukuna. His persistent need to point out things you so blatantly choose to ignore. That he pokes holes in what you and Eren have, valid holes that bother you at night, that only validate what you think is true.

You need Eren more than he needs you. You like Eren more than he likes you. And he’s going to leave you far behind, at the end of all of this.

Sukuna reaches forward, fingers swiping the tears off your cheeks as he rolls his eyes.

“Stop fucking crying.”

“You’re so rude.”

“I’m not rude. You’re just a bitch.”

You smack his face out of your space.

“When you’re ready for it, I’m here to help you. There’s nothing I do better than revenge, doll.”

You scoff.

“Save your unadulterated rage for the camera. And don’t get too excited when I lean in to kiss you.” he responds, tucking your hair behind your ear and giving you a wink as he slides over to his mark.

You’re going to kill him.

Six weeks of freedom from Sukuna and you’re hiding in the bushes with Armin, Annie, Connie, Sasha, and Marco next to you. Hands locked together as you watch Jean and Mikasa in the distance. And you make your best efforts not to cry, to not fully sob at the second time you’ve been able to witness a love so warm.

It’s all so soft. So warm, so sweet, so much like Levi and Hange’s vow renewal that it makes your heart swell, to the biggest of shapes, for the two of them.

Mikasa is getting engaged. Engaged to Jean, who has always been so sure of her. So quick to run to her defense, to love her like it’s his second nature. They’re going to be together, by each other's side, drunk at award shows and holding hands in taxis for the rest of their lives.

Mikasa is wearing a white dress, soft and willowy, with her low cut Doc Martens. You convinced her that you just wanted to take her out for brunch, drive by the ocean a little bit before you leave town again. Because Jean had approached you, all squirrel like and antsy, and showed you the beautifully ornate ring he had gotten her and asked you to help her.

And Jean. Sweet Jean, he’s fumbling with the box in the pocket as he talks to her. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you can quickly tell that Mikasa is comforting Jean. That he’s stumbling over his words, his feelings, but she’s standing there and holding his hand. Walking him through them.

And then Jean’s on one knee. Smiling up at her so hard he’s squinting, soft tears falling out of his eyes and her surprised expression. And she brings her hand up to her chest, right over her heart and falls to her knees to meet him, the two of them hugging each other so hard that it makes your chest squelch.

“Crybaby.” Marco mutters, reaching over to swipe your tears.

“Shut up.”

You look back at them, at Jean and Mikasa lying down in the grass tangled in each other's arms, and can’t wait any longer. The five of you - Marco, Annie, Armin, Sasha, and you - run up and pile on, the six of you crying in each other's arms, pink faces. Armin snaps a polaroid picture of Jean and Mikasa - her hands wrapped around his face and the softest look on his face when he smiles back at her. And then one of you and Marco crying, holding each other for good measure.

You reach for Mikasa’s hands the second Jean finally lets her go to hug Armin and Marco and your eyes are positively burning.

“Oh, Mika. I’m so, so happy for you.”

She’s crying. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes are red, and she has the full marks of love on her face. The softest kind of love.

“Thank you, Y/N. You-you’re a treasure. I love you. Thank you for not letting me wear that ugly green dress earlier.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around her, and press a kiss to the side of her face.

Your heart aches. For green eyes, brown hair, and a soft smirk that no one else gets to see. For snarky comments, for shameless flirting, for every hurt feeling in your chest being smoothed over like it was nothing.

Jean and Mikasa make you long, long so ruefully for this feeling. The way they look at each other, the way he keeps tissues in all his pockets because she gets sniffly outside, how Mikasa is the only person who can handle him. The feeling you used to have.

You’ve decided then and there. You’re going to get him back. And luckily for you, you’re flying to Seattle and in nine hours you’ll be there with him. On his birthday, with all this love you’re going to share again.

You’re fish together. You’re not swimming forward without him.

“Hey. Where’s Con? We should get ready to leave soon.” Armin asks, pointing at his watch.

You look around at the crowd of you, Marco holding Mikasa’s hand in his as he admires the ring and gives Jean a smile.

Where is Connie?

You shrug as you tell Armin to stay, to keep taking pictures of the two of them, as you march around the garden, looking around for him. And you find him, knees hiked to his chest, crouched over with red eyes and a pink nose. You immediately reach for him and place your hand on his shoulder, which he immediately flinches at and then releases.

“Connie?” you ask, caught off guard.

He relaxes when he realizes it’s just you and aggressively wipes the back of his hand against his nose and smiles.

“Hey. My bad, they just got me too emotional in there. Fucking saps they are, I just love them so much.”

“Okay. Con, are you okay? You-you don’t look so good.”

He smiles again and it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s sweating and…green. He places his hands against your cheeks and squeezes, his voice soft when he talks.

“Always the type to worry, aren't you? I promise I’m fine, Y/N. Help me finish packing because I actually didn’t start.”

“Huh? We leave in like an hour.”

“Exactly why I need your help!”

He stands up and pulls you along with him, your arms linked together, as you recruit Armin and Marco to help you pack. And you ignore the feeling, as you climb on the plane, nestled in between Armin and Connie, and focus on the important thing.

Brown hair, green eyes, and the soft smile.

You’re getting him back.

next part linked here

an, again: guess who is getting blocked on his birthday. eren no middle name jaeger.

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp. @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

380 notes · View notes

jacqulants · 5 months ago

Text

A little sneak peak of a fanfiction I was writing where Levi and the reader both used to live in the underground before coming up to the surface!

The night sky was a clock that told everyone when it was time to sleep but once a night the Marigold Festival awakens making the people revolt against the stars and moon to laugh the night away. Lanterns lit the streets as vendors had their stalls decorated with flags and posters saying their special deals for the night. Every restaurant was packed to the brim with people, lines of people waited outside cafes and restaurants, some lines longer than others. The streets occupied with dancers and singers. Levi had excused Eren so he could go enjoy the evening with Armin and Mikasa, maybe you two would bump into them.

"So! What's first on our agenda?" You smiled at Levi.

"I don't come to the festivals often, only when Hange forces me. I say let's go get something to drink." Levi recommended pointing at a tea shop.

"Whaat? Levi you came to the surface before me but still haven't lived your life yet." You put a hand on your hip.

"Fine. Then what do you want to do?" He asked.

"I want to try new foods, let's go look at the vendors." You smiled and led him away into the crowd.

"That's her." Eren pointed at you and Levi.

"Do you think their dating..?" Armin asked.

Levi and you stood at a man selling fried spiral potato's, each of you getting one and trying it. Both of you discussing the spices, the presentation, and the taste before giving it a rating.

"Most definitely." Eren answered.

"No. I think their just friends." Mikasa looked at Armin and Eren.

"Yeah but friends always lead to another thing." Eren looked at Mikasa and she looked away, a tint of blush spreading across her cheek.

"Mikasa's right, they could be just friends. How long have you said they've known each other?" Armin asked eating some corn in a cup.

"Umm...I think since 14." Eren watched Levi and Y/N closely.

"Then they might just be friends." Armin nodded.

"No guys. You should see the way Levi acts around Y/N. He isn't so uptight; he actually made a joke!" Eren looked frightened.

"What!? Then he most definitely likes her." Armin admitted.

"Most definitely." Mikasa nodded.

"I rate it a 10/10." You licked your fingers clean from the fried spiral potato's.

"Definitely better than the stale bread they serve us in the scouts. But I'll have to give it a 7/10."

"Why?'' You looked appalled as you gasped.

"Too greasy for my liking." He grabbed a handkerchief cleaning his hands.

"Laaaame." You huffed out and he rolled his eyes, "since I chose the last place you choose the next."

Levi looked around at the vendors and spotted a tea shop. However, the most peculiar thing happened, he didn't recommend tea. He wouldn't admit it, but he liked being adventurous with you and finding out what you like and don't like. He pointed at a stall that sold beignets.

"That one." He said grabbing your hand and walking over.

"See! He just grabbed her hand!" Armin shook Eren.

Mikasa, Armin, and Erin had become to invested in Levi and your's love life. They hid in a bush with a single pair of binoculars trying to uncover if Levi has the ability to love someone.

"Let me see." Mikasa calmy said, Eren handed the binoculars over as Mikasa looked in them to see Levi holding your hand to guide you through the crowd.

You looked down at Levi holding your hand and you felt your stomach get warm and your cheeks flush. You blamed it on the fried spiral potato's and brushed it off as you guys approached the beignets stand. Levi ordered for the two of you, giving you your beignet.

You both chomped into it, and you could feel the softness of the bread as well as the airiness that was inside it. Levi noticed the powdered sugar on your lips, he reached his hand over wiping it off. His fingers gliding along your soft lips. He felt his own heart pound, something he hasn't experienced in a while. When you fight titans on the daily it's hard to get scared of anything anymore but that didn't shake the fact that right now, he was nervous. He leaned in closer to your face, if your lips felt soft on his fingers how did they feel on his own lips?

"Was there something on my mouth?" You asked, he snapped back into reality and quickly retracted his face.

Mikasa, Armin, and Eren sat in the bush with their jaws slacked.

"Yes. I was just wiping it off, my apologies." He said pulling back his hand.

"Thank you." You smiled and he felt his ears get warm, he prayed to whatever god was out there that you couldn’t see it, “what do you rate it?"

"Um. 10/10." He hummed out. In all honestly, he could care less about the beignet and more about the fact he almost kissed you.

"For the first time in my life I'm gonna have to agree with you." You laughed and he let out a gentle smile.

"Guys..is he even the same Levi we know anymore?" Armin asked looking at the other two.

"He's gone, he's lost in the sauce. He just smiled at her.." Eren looked like if he saw a ghost.

"I didn't even know his face muscles were capable of such...movements!" Mikasa interjected.

"Hey Levi. Wanna get some tea." You recommended and he nodded.

You two entered a tea shop, little did you know Armin, Mikasa, and Eren were right behind you guys. You and Levi found a table, the 3 scouts sat close, they wore disguises. Eren wore his hoodie, Mikasa a fake mustache and Armin wore a wig. You and Levi ordered, you a chamomile tea and Levi got black tea.

You looked out the tea shops window to see the dancers dancing out on the street, "Hey Levi. If you could be anything in the world, what would it be?"

With you. Was what he thought instead he answered, "I don't know. I'm quite content with my life right now."

Levi wasn't sure what made these feelings arise all of a sudden, maybe it was the way the light hit your face and illuminated all of his favorite features about you. Maybe it was the way every citizen was happy tonight and maybe it rubbed off on him. Or maybe it was the fact that you have always been his calm after the storm. He can't remember how long he's liked you, but he can remember how he felt when you said you liked Farlan.

It was back when Isabel, you, Farlan and Levi lived in the underground. Farlan had went to train Isabel on how to work the ODM gear. You and Levi sat at the table, him drinking tea and you drinking water.

"I think I like Farlan." Was what you said and he remembered his grip tightening on his cup, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"Really." He lifted his tea cup to his face to hide his expressions, taking a longer sip than usual.

"Yeah. I think I'll confess to him today." You smiled.

Levi snapped back to reality before looking at you, "What would you be?"

"I would like to be free. I'd like to live in a house in the middle of nowhere outside the walls and have a garden." You smiled.

The server walked over handing you two your orders, giving Levi his black bitter tea and giving you your herbal tea.

"Maybe one day that could happen." Levi drank his tea.

"Mhm. Thank you Levi." You hummed.

"For what?"

"For staying alive all these years." You smiled and he nodded.

"My pleasure."

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's presence, drinking tea and watching the dancers and singers do what they were passionate about. You heard mumbling to the table next to you and you turned your head to the table.

"Eren?" You asked and he looked at you like a deer in headlights. Levi turned his attention to where the group was sitting.

"Eren, Mikasa, Armin." Levi looked coldly at them, "Why are you 3 here?"

"To enjoy tea sir." Mikasa answered.

"You all hate tea." Levi called them out and they stayed silent with nervous looks on their faces, "Extra laps for you guys tomorrow."

They all sighed in defeat as you and Levi exited the tea shop, "At least we know he's in love..." Eren mentioned.

You and Levi had decided to leave the excitement of the festival, using the carriage to take you guy's home. Your eyelids felt heavy, but you fought to stay awake. Levi noticed finding your actions somewhat cute. He wanted to confess there and then how much he liked you. How much he wanted to kiss you or to be able to even touch you. To feel your warmth against his skin in a hug, to feel your fingers dance in his hair, to feel your lips on his own.

"Y/N." Levi called out. It sounded unnatural as if he didn't intend to say your name.

"Yes?"

Shit. He didn't know what to say. He could ruin everything by muttering 3 stupid words so instead he opted for the safer option, "Sleep. I'll tell you when we're home."

#levi ackerman #levi aot #captain levi #levi attack on titan #fanfic #x reader

21 notes · View notes

hamliet · 8 months ago

Note

I was talking to a friend about how in recent years it has become so common to have anti-heroes and villains as protagonists. I think this trend started with Tony Soprano back in 2000 and it was definitely something that changed series and movies in a good way, gave us alot of great and interesting characters to explore (Tony Soprano himself was an incredible and complex character that captivated the audience, even though he sometimes did things that we found horrible and hated him for it. But seeing the success and popularity, it's no wonder that after the Sopranos show people started to explore the idea of anti-hero/villain protagonists way more). I can't say when this trend started in anime, if it was before or after The Sopranos, but it also became something quite common (Light Yagami, Eren Yeager, Lelouch Lamperouge and the list goes on). I confess that sometimes I miss seeing a character with a good alignment as the protagonist, I wanted to know your opinion on these things.

So... I think there are a few layers here.

I don't actually agree that morally gray protagonists are very common at all, sorry Anon!, but--

I do think there is a general lack of well-written protagonists of all moralities, and--

All writing is a product of its time to an extent, and in a world where people at least pay lipservice to the idea that we are all culpable for the horrid state of the world, stories are at least going to pay lipservice to that.

On the line of lipservice.... Antihero protagonists do exist, but I think if anything protagonists have become very, very sanitized. Even the ones who are considered antiheroes aren't really doing anything bad. They're just vessels for the authors to preach... which, to be fair to authors, is also partially because I do think there's a lack of critical thinking among the populace and no one wants to be accused of supporting something truly terrible especially in an age where cyberbullying is an expected part of the job. But writing about it isn't inherently an endorsement.

Even in stories like House of the Dragon, which literally is based on a book that is all about gray morality, has sanitized the characters (especially the Blacks and even more so the women) so much that they are barely characters anymore. They're not the ambitious, human people who love and lust and hurt and do the unforgivable yet are still so human. Again, I think the reasoning is pretty clearly to appeal to the audience by not doing the misogyny GoT Season 8 was... except they ironically actually are but bending over so far backwards they're making the characters caricatures instead of people.

I mean, I don't know which movies nowadays besides nugu artsy ones don't have a "good" protagonist. It's far more common. Look at Pixar, at Marvel, at Disney's stranglehold on the industry. Look at BNHA. Part of this is genre-dependent too, but. Good guy wins. Bad guy loses.

In fact, it's so common for people to assume that protagonist status is an endorsement of everything the protagonist does that a sizable portion of AoT fans refuse to accept that Eren Jaeger wasn't intended to be a hero and created ANR, and other fans wrote for big-name publications directly calling Isayama a fascist for portraying a hero who sank into fascism. Overall, I do think the majority got the message, but I also think that while there are certainly some things that could have been done better, the main issue isn't the messaging of the story. I don't think AoT is muddy thematically. I do think the majority of people can't think critically if their life depended on it these days.

That said, I do think what you're onto is that a lot of characters and protagonists just are not well-written. Heroic or not, they're not well done. They're vessels to be used to prop up the author's moral views, rather than explore the difficult questions about what it means to navigate that morality in a bleak world. And I can't even blame them, because the way audiences respond gives them no choice.

Yet, antihero characters are often the more popular characters over MCs. Why? Because they're usually the ones who have a touch of humanity left, and also because tragic stories have appeal when the world is, well, tragic. Until the Mouse beats that humanity out of them anyways. However--

A good "good" protagonist is Luffy from One Piece, honestly. He's complex and interesting while maintaining his fundamental desire for kindness and compassion in the world. Or Tenma from Monster. Jim and Aja from Tales of Arcadia and Adora from She-Ra, too! And Xie Lian from TGCF (okay he considered genocide but--). And, of course, Ruby from RWBY!

#ask hamliet

23 notes · View notes

firefly--bright · 1 year ago

Text

strangers.

✩‧₊˚☾

masquerade chapter one.

jean kirstein x fem!reader, regency a.u.

chapter summary ; how it all began.

chapter warning ; familial issues/abandonment, running away.

a/n ; im trying out a different writing style to match the theme of this au!! :') I don't think it's going that well, so constructive criticisms are always welcome. also lmk if I should continue in this style or just go back to my normal one!! :)

taglist ; @mrsnobodynobody @jeanscremebrulee @holding-infinity-and-a-book @happxme

☾ series masterlist ☾ main masterlist ☾ enter my taglist ☾

✩‧₊˚☾

the ackermans, despite their precedence, were kind to you. as much as they could find it in themselves to be.

their name was attached to authority and harshness; something you hadn't been a stranger to since birth, despite not being one of them yourself - a reality nobody let you forget. but then again, you wouldn't want to forget.

the late january nights were cooling on your cheeks, even as you were stationary, sat on a bench that was illuminated solely by one lantern. it would've been dangerous if you weren't cloaked, hiding your figure from the eyes of the rare strangers that crossed your view from time to time, no doubt for a smoke break, trying to escape their realities.

you didn't blame them. you were doing the same thing as well, sketching out the picture in front of you - a sleeping ginger cat. peacefully, it's belly heaved upwards, then down as it dreamt. your pencil glided across the page, trying to capture its fur. you were, by no means, exceptional. not as great as the artists you would see when you'd sneak out to go to galleries with artists that were recognized, unlike your own pieces. marked off as "anonyomous", without a home but with a creator that painted like it did have one. a home, a place to go back to.

you rub the eraser dust away with your fingers, sinking into your seat, looking back up at your subject who was peacefully unaware of your observation.

"you're here again." a voice remarks.

you know this voice. you look to your right, where it's coming from. his own figure was hiding with a thick long coat, buttoned up till the top. a brown hat covered the top of his head, furling up and away from his forehead. the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink with the cold and his ash-brown hair peeked out from under his hat. his eyes were a halo of gold with the light of the lamp above you. you smile up at him.

"interesting subject tonight." you say, looking back at the cat. he turns to look at it too, humming. he takes a seat right beside you, keeping his own sketchbook in his lap, methodically, neatly. he looks into your sketchbook.

"you've made progress without me," he says. complains, really. it's endearing and you find yourself smiling.

"it's just practice, don't worry."

he scoffs. "I'm not worried." he says, lying straight through his teeth, flipping his sketchbook open to an untouched page.

his first mark is just like him - precise and calculated. you've noticed it, through the weeks you've known him, that his first line always remains. he may go back and erase other strokes, adjust some others, but the first one remained the same, unchanging. he hesitates before drawing it, however, twisting his pencil between the fingers of his left hand before his decision, like he's marking off a territory.

it's routine. you pretend to be asleep in clothes that you're still not quite used to, watch as Mikasa lights a candle, helping Eren up from her balcony windows, making sure that she is distracted with whispered, secret conversations with the man before sneaking out, heading to have your own whispered and secret life at night. most nights it's this - meeting this stranger with honeyed eyes and cleched jaw. he spoke only when prompted to, but it was worthwhile. if you were brave enough, you'd ask for his name. but you werent, and it seemed neither was he. he must be too recognizable in this place, too hard to ignore.

he's too hard to ignore right now as well, when you sit in silence and the only sounds you hear are the gentle scrapings of hard and soft led - the stranger liked more feathery charcoal - against rough parchment paper. your shoulders keep brushing with every stroke, as they did every time. it sends warmth through your body against the cold night, but you don't mention it in words. you're not sure you can, even if you were allowed to, you couldn't dare put it into words and let it be known and tangible.

the stranger sighs. "how did you do it?" he asks. his voice fogs up the air around his mouth.

you look at him. maybe the mystery around his being is why you feel the way you do around him. maybe if you know him, you'd feel less. but how much power can a name even posses? you know everything he'd allow you to, and for now it was enough. you knew that his favourite scent was that of the lavender oil that he'd dot on his collarbone on special occasions only because his best friend had told him to. you know that he did not care much for sweets, except those that his mother rarely made for him and his company, you knew that he had a scar on his ankle after having it be broken running away from a horse as a child, too scared to brave the act of riding one. everything he'd tell you, you'd hang on to like it was your purpose.

he's your friend. the first one you had made that you did not owe anything to.

"do what?" you ask him, tilting your head to one side. his eyes trail down to your unfinished sketch.

"make it feel alive." he asks, again, as his left hand sets his lead down on his lap in favour of feeling your page. you hum in thought as he touches your drawing's fur.

"do not think over it too much. layer, keep adding until it feels right." you say. you don't have much advice to give after doing art for so long. it feels like a muscle memory and not like the power that people would try to convince you it is. it doesn't feel like something you wield to create but something that you had known since you were born.

maybe you were born with it.

he shifts in his seat and his left hand rests on the back of the bench, behind your arms. not touching you, but enough for you to know that he is persistently there, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his obvious attempt at being a flirt - another thing you had noticed. "it never works the way you make it work."

"blind flattery will not get you far," you tell him, looking at him in his eyes, and he stares back, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"i do not need to go far."

"clearly," you mutter.

he scoffs, falsely offended.

the night continues and so does the light banter and shared smiles.

he feels light. despite your surroundings being dark and clouded, despite there being several thousand things you should have been worrying about, he makes you feel like you are floating in the gently blowing wind.

you were a thing meant to be kept this gently. you were satisfied, greatly so, to be in his presence while doing the one thing you had truly enjoyed. a space that could not be destroyed, understanding without any transaction being made.

if only you could spend more time with him, like this, without his name, without your name, only the small differences that set you aside from everyone else. the two of you existed as mere symbols of each other, mere faces that knew and saw each other despite your last names, the people you were supposed to stand for.

you might've regretted spending all these late nights with the nameless stranger, considering the ungodly hour at which you had to wake up. just before the sun rises, you were required to do the same tasks that concerned your scarce colleagues. helping dry the clothes, helping make sure that everything was set for when Mikasa would eventually wake up to her own morning regrets, setting the soaps for her bath and ironing her dresses, laying out the jewellery she was to wear.

it suited her. you smoothed over her deep wine coloured dress, ridding it of any of its wrinkles, admiring how the colour would bring out her eyes that looked at you kindly under the guise of being indifferent. you'd been glad the day she found you - you were a teen, looking desperately for somewhere to belong to and you found her. crashed into her, really, because she was running away too. you still hadn't asked her what she'd been running away from, but one thing was for certain - taking a single look at her that day told you everything you needed to know - she was just like you. in the sense that she had the same, undeterred resolve of removing herself, finding escape in whatever obscurity she could find it in.

you had crashed into her, dropping the measly amount of bread in your hands on the ground on impact. it became dirtied with the heavy raindrops and mud almost immediately, and you would've berated her. you would've yelled and let out all your pent-up anger if it wasn't for the clothes she was wearing. they were wet but you could tell they were made from heavy material - a material that you had seen only important people wear. even if she tried covering the bottom half of her face with a washed-out red scarf, she looked like how she was supposed to look; the look you had decided to grow out of after running away. like a child.

scared and shivering, you led her to your meagre shelter with an arm around her shoulder, lighting up a small fire to keep her warm for the time being. you spent three days with her there. she left on the fourth day, and even though she hadn't told you about her decision to leave, you knew it would be inevitable.

what you didn't know was that she'd lead her cousin there, too. in your shelter - into the basement of an abandoned shop - the floors of which were scattered with paintbrushes and charcoals and empty tubes of paint. her family took you in and provided you of a newer, better shelter.

but you could not call it a home. it was not home. you never had one, you were sure of it.

the only drawback of this temporary... settlement, you should call it, was that you'd have to work for them. yes, the Ackermans weren't as harsh and cold as their reputation claimed, but that did not mean they were the kindest. surely a stranger could not be of the same rank as their own daughter, a fact you very well understood.

and Mikasa's spirit was as you had expected them to be after you had found her that day. she was stubborn over her softness, and made it abundantly clear that she did not wish for anyone else but you to be her handmaiden.

she is your best friend. but she is also your employer, a line you have to remember to tread lightly and carefully every day.

her drowsy voice calls you into her room from the bathing chambers.

wiping your hands on the skirt of your dress, you make your familiar way to her large room. you greet her squinting eyes with a smile, opening up the curtains to let the morning light in. the sun had made its way up into the sky as you finished your chores with its rays boring into the morning as it did every winter day. Mikasa didn't seem to appreciate it as much as you did, however, her hair unruly and unkept after tossing and turning all night.

"you'll feel less tired once you warm up a bit. i've already ran a bath for you," you tell her, and like clockwork, she lets her feet down on the ground from the bed, rubbing her wrist against her eye. she nods while doing it, letting you know that you are heard.

you strike a smile at her tired state, one that you relate to a little too well. you make your way towards her.

"here," you say, plucking up the hot cup of tea into your hands from her bedside. "this'll help you wake up. it's something new. Sir Arlert brought it for you. something about Doctor Yeager's remedy?" you say, knowing exactly what words to speak to bring her out of her dreamy state.

"Yeager?" she asks, her voice raspy. she takes the cup from your hand.

you know too well about her relations with the two boys. even if his post dubbed him to be "Sir", Armin Arlert was a man who could convince even the stoniest Ackerman to let Mikasa talk to him. even after the Yeager family was left desolate, the two boys never lost their nature, especially with Mikasa herself.

you hum at her question. "i think he called it...coffee? something along those lines. if it's bitter, I'll bring the sugar."

she takes a tentative sip and nods. "it's alright." she says. "thank you." there's a slight grimace on her face and you know what it says even if she doesn't say it; it's bitter, but it's tolerable.

Levi Ackerman wasn't as prude as people made him out to be. yes, he did have the look of a scoundrel who might've had daggers strapped into the inside of his coat, but you had wormed your way into his heart. you knew that for a fact because you had spilled milk on his cotton shirt and had, somehow, gotten away with it. all he did was mumble something under his breath, shaking his head before dabbing it away with a rag.

if it were anyone else, he would've led them to unemployment, but he didn't do so with you. he could have, it was within his right, but he didn't.

of course, you did make up for it. you went out into the darker parts of the town and purchased a small pouch of tea that helped with sleeplessness to help him ease his dark circles out. you knew of his issues with sleep, how he stayed awake into the wee hours of the night, roaming around like a ghost in his robes, reading a book that no-one knew the name of. you didn't know about what nightmares plagued him, but the tea you gave him seemed to help with that. instead of hearing his footsteps creaking on the wooden floors, you heard his sound snoring when you passed his room in the morning.

maybe it was because it was him that found you in that dingy basement along with Mikasa, helped coax you out of there, crouched infront of you and told you that you'd have a house to live in and a bed to sleep on if you follow him and Mikasa. maybe it was because he saw you grow up just like he saw his cousin grow up, from where you came to where you've reached. from wearing clothes that barely fit you, paint marks all over your face from pigment that wasn't safe for skin as sensitive as yours, to here. to clothes that you kept clean and ironed, pigments that you didnt let come near your face to prevent the rashes that you'd eventually get due to them.

you prepared his morning tea just the way he liked it, which was to say, only a dash of milk and no sugar. he wanted to taste as much tea as he could without diluting it, placing the cup on the tray along with all the other assortments.

you snuck a taste of the batter that the cook - Mr Berner - had prepared in advance as he frets over the cook of the eggs. Lord Ackerman, mikasa's stern father, deeply disliked uncooked yolks whereas Lady Ackerman disliked yolks that were solid throughout. thankfully, Kenny Ackerman bad gone hunting, and with any luck, would not be back until later in the evening. his hunting expeditions always extended to something else entirely, sometimes he'd return a little intoxicated. again, thankfully, he somehow managed not to raise any suspicions from anyone else.

"can you help with the juice if you can spare some time? Mrs Ackerman seems to be preferring it now-a-days." Mr Berner asks, turning his head to glance at you. you hum in agreement, helping the poor man by getting started on the orange juice. he has too much to do every day, with the kitchen being short staffed and new hires being dismissed due to silly mistakes that anyone in their shoes would make in their first week. Lord Ackerman had to be the cause of the hushed rumors that surrounded his family because of his last minute decisions made due to mild rage. if it weren't for his only child being on your side, you also would have met the same fate as the maid that left after not being able to remove the clothes from the rack fast enough before a thunderstorm.

in some ways, he reminded you of your own grandfather.

you finished up squeezing the juice our of the fruit as fast as you could before hurrying over to mikasa's bath, getting ready for her to get out.

luckily, she seemed more awake now as she accepted the towel being wrapped around her figure, heading to the closet.

"is there any more of that coffee?" she asks as you brush her hair.

"yes. it's kept aside just for you. was your talk with Mr. Yeager to your satisfaction last night?" you ask her, smiling at her through the mirror as she evades your eyes.

"it was. er- Mister Yeager is... nice." she says, small smile gracing her face that anyone else would've missed but you latch on to quickly.

"you might want to sleep earlier for a little while. so as to avoid suspicion," you say as she hums, playing with a string of her silky black hair. "i just miss him sometimes. after living next door to him for so long...." she reminisces.

"you got used to him?" you ask. in truth, you did not know much about the Yeager boy. all you knew was creditted to what you had gathered from over-hearing. something about his father running away, something about the legitimacy of his birth or lack thereof, something else about his brother forcing him and his mother to move to a more rural part of Paradis. what ever it may be, his life and his secrets and his stories, you hope he could find it in himself to be content. even if everything you heard was false, you knew all too well how a teen felt after being removed from their home with or against their will.

all you knew was that he made Mikasa happy. it didn't matter much to you about where he came from or how much wealth he possessed, all that mattered was that after the day was done, Mikasa could sleep with a smile on her face because of him.

Mikasa nods as an answer.

"his mother was kind to us. she'd make our favourite meals when we were tired after playing." she says, her smile more visible now. you smile back as you apply pigment to her cheeks, blending it out to be more natural, holding her cheeks in your hands after you were done. "beautiful."

she smiles and averts her eyes. "all thanks to you," she says, whispering.

you shake your head. "Lord Ackerman wants to see you." you tell her, remembering what he had asked. "seemed to be important." you say.

she sighs, getting up from her seat at the vanity. "sometimes I wish we could...live in a cottage." she says, smoothing out her dress with her hands, dusting off any stray hair or pigment. Lord Ackerman much preferred it when his family was well presented, even in the confines of their own home.

you smiled wider, indulging in her thoughts. this wasn't something new.

when you were only just getting accomadated to your living situation as a mere fifeteen year old, she'd find you, restless and preparing hot milk to rest better, trying to do the same for herself. you'd look at her with understanding, carrying two cups of milk and some cut up fruit up to her room, hiding under her covers, talking about an ideal life and why you'd like to lead it.

"I could steal some books for you from Smith's library," you tell her, and she breathes out a laugh. "and I'd steal you some good paints from Armin's parents." she says. a compelling case.

"and we'd have a cat. with a ginger coat."

"you know we can't possibly handle it,"

"two cats."

she laughs, a proper giggle this time, her hand coming up to cover her mouth with a fist. "alright. two cats."

"we'd grow catnip in our backyard."

"...I do not think that would work. as long as I get to read, I'll be alright."

Mikasa asked you to stay near the doorway of her father's study. you obliged, knowing that these 'talks' Lord Ackerman requested were more of a lecturing than anything. he prides himself in not being aggressive, but the passiveness of his voice and the looks he shoots his family over dinner for stepping out of an invisible, imaginary line prove otherwise. regardless, he doesn't raise his voice in spite of his anger or lack of it, and his presence in the house made you stand with your back pin-straight and chin bowed down. not because of the respect he so clearly demanded, but because of fear.

even now, standing right outside of his dark wooden door, his voice was nothing but a low hum, interrupted by mikasa's higher pitched voice. you could not eavesdrop even if you wanted to with the thick doors and his voice barely penetrating through them. sometimes you think that this house was built keeping in mind of this fact only - that the Ackerman family needed to keep any and all of their secrets locked up behind doors.

you played with the hem of the waistband on your skirt, digging it under your thumbnail and removing it before doing it again - a trait you had habituated since childhood. you used to do it with a silver necklace chained across the base of your neck, but now that necklace sat in a closed closet along with your other, more valuable belongings.

Mikasa steps out, opening the doors with ease, sighing after they're finally closed. you don't crowd her immediately; you know better than that. you know she needs space, so you keep your distance at a safe arm's length. but today was not like the other days this occured. no, because today, you felt it. the tension in the air, more so than usual, the back of your neck covered in light swear not due to working in the kitchen but due to being here, in this wide, cold corridor that held no windows, the air stiff.

and because, instead of asking for space, Mikasa opens her mouth to speak, as if it's a death sentence. you're sure it is.

"he has decided to marry me off."

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein x reader #aot #jean kirstein x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #jean kirschtein #mikasa ackerman #eren yeager #armin arlert #levi ackerman

52 notes · View notes

cosmicjoke · 7 months ago

Note

As a writer in the SNK fandom, how do you push through the discouragement from lack of engagement? No one comments on my works and it makes me really sad. At most, I’ll get one comment whenever I post something and it’ll be something like “Please update!!” People always say “write for yourself” and I do, but if I wanted to only write for myself, I wouldn’t bother posting my work. I had a work with 30+ chapters and whenever I posted, I would get hundreds of hits and no comments. I abandoned it because posting made me insecure and anxious. I write for other fandoms and don’t have this problem there, so I don’t think the issue is my writing.

Hey there!

First of all, I'm sorry to hear about the lack of engagement you've been getting on your work. That really sucks, and I know first-hand what that's like. My own work doesn't get much traction at all, either, particularly in the SnK fandom, and I don't know why that is. Whether it's people simply being too lazy to comment, or too entitled, thinking they're owed someone's work and effort and shouldn't have to pay it back in any way, or if it's some weird insecurity on their part, not wanting to comment because they feel shy or something. But I have the same issue you do, and I'm certain it's got nothing to do with the quality of the writing itself, for either of us. Sometimes I think it's because I'm not writing what's "popular", i.e. Levi/reader fics, or Levi/Eren or whatever. I don't know. I feel like most people just want to read smut, but I'm not into that at all. I updated and/or posted three new chapters for my AoT fics over the last, couple days, and I've gotten a grand total of 2 comments, I think, lol. And whenever I post a chapter or a one-shot here on tumblr, I'm lucky if I get one or two likes, and I almost never get a single reblog. It's super discouraging, and I don't blame you at all for abandoning your own writing. I've felt very often like just quitting when nobody can be bothered to leave any sort of comment, or the most they can manage is a one word comment, or a demand for an update. Hardly anybody bothers to actually tell you what they liked about a story or a chapter that you've posted.

To be honest, it's not easy to continue on when you just aren't getting any feedback. As you said, if people that write fanfiction were just doing it for themselves, they wouldn't bother publishing it online. Fandom thrives off of engagement and interaction. You'll get people whining about a fandom dying out, but then they don't lift a finger to try and keep it alive. I understand not always having the time to leave a comment on something, but once in a while would be nice. If someone is interested enough in your story to click on it, assuming they enjoy it, they should make the effort to let you know.

Mainly, I end up motivating myself just through my own passion for the source material and/or character I'm writing for. It's the same with my analyses posts. I get very little engagement, most of the time, with those, and I work pretty hard on them, too. But I keep writing them because, ultimately, I care about the media I'm analyzing and want to work out my thoughts and feelings about it. It's nice if somebody interacts with the posts, but generally, I don't expect it anymore.

It's harder with fiction, though, because while analyses posts can be seen as something more academic in nature, fiction is a form of entertainment, and so you assume people are reading it to enjoy themselves. Well, if they're enjoying it, then they should let the creator know they are.

Anyway, I feel like I'm not giving you a very good answer here. Basically, the way I keep writing, even when I don't get any engagement, is just by being interested in the source material and characters myself. So if I'm writing a story about Levi, at the end of the day, it's because I personally love his character and find enjoyment in writing for him, creating different scenarios to put him in and bringing them to life, etc... But again, it's not easy. I can't tell you how often I just want to quit. Some days, I think I will entirely. Art is meant to be shared with other people. If nobody wants to read your work, or isn't willing to let you know that they're reading and enjoying your work, then it's basically the same as telling a creator that they shouldn't bother. There's a certain level of responsibility, I feel like, from readers. They should, at a certain point, feel beholden to leave a comment if they're enjoying your work and regularly engaging with it. It's the least they could do. It takes a lot of work to write fanfiction, and nobody is getting paid to write it. The payment is when people actually tell you what they think.

#anon asks #fanfiction #fanfic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #writing #creative writing

8 notes · View notes

kingkaisen · 1 year ago

Note

im gonna read part by part however you are so amazing when it comes to portraying moral dilemmas

spoilers but mikasa carrying guilt and wanting nothing but to have a life with reader full of sweetness and joy was so heart shattering. connie’s cruelty and ruthlessness is executed so well and even the awkwardness between eren and jean but despite all those horrid fights there is still love and care for each other (deep, DEEP down 😭) and it really does upset me everybody is scrambling and blaming themselves for the circumstances of what is happening to the reader. its easy to be mad at her (ik that all too well) but at the end of the day, while she makes mistakes that hurt everybody around her, the industry is beyond cruel and she has always been some sort of pierrot for ALL of these men 🚶🏽‍♂️ which would obvs take a toll on her

AHHH

Ty for sending this in! When writing that part with Mikasa I had that one song stuck in my head that goes:

I watch the moon

Let it run my mood

Can't stop thinking of you

I watch you (now I let it go)

(And I watch as things play out like)

So long nice to know you I'll be moving on

And yeah I added that scene with Jean and Eren at the last minute actually 😄 it was supposed to be something entirely different but I felt like the 2 of them needed a little bonding moment and to show that they’re both still precious sometimes 😭

I hope you like how this part ends 😄 and I can’t wait to read your fic too, I have it all bookmarked for when I have the time! I can tell it’s very well written and creative from the little part I have read; you’re really talented especially when it comes to imagery!

#five husbands spoilers #˗ ˏˋ♛ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐀 ♛ˎˊ ˗#˗ ˏˋ♛ 𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 ♛ˎˊ ˗#💌

8 notes · View notes

naussensei · 2 years ago

Text

Teacher Levi

When he entered the classroom the students were all either sitting on their desks or standing by the window, watching some football match happening. Paper planes and snack wrappings were scattered all over the floor already and it wasn’t even lunch time yet.

“Away from the window, now.” He yelled as soon as he entered, throwing his thick book on the desk with a loud bang that had all eyes on him. “Class has started.”

The students began to move slowly, watching him with weary eyes as they murmured things Levi could not care less about right now.

“Ok, someone’s woke up with the wrong foot this morning.” Said Ymir as she took a seat in front of Levi.

“Did you forget your coffee, Lee?” Asked Armin.

“Silence,” he groaned. He had indeed not had enough time to make himself a coffee between classes, because of the stupid photocopier, but that was not the only reason for his foul mood.

He scanned the classroom quickly, walking through the aisles as he ran a finger through the desks.

“This class is disgusting, you should be ashamed. It’s your classroom, you can’t expect the janitors to clean up after your mess all the time, that’s fucking rude. Their job is to maintain the cleanliness, not to keep up with your filthy habits.”

The students rolled their eyes, and readied for what they knew would be a long sermon, only to then claim innocence when the time to clean up came.

“Excuse me, sir,” said Historia, puting her hand up, “but I don’t think it’s fair for all of us to listen to this speech if it’s the same few people who always make a mess.”

There was chattering again, and Levi could feel the veins pop in his forehead.

“Teacher’s pet is right,” said Eren, without bothering putting his hand up to speak. “I’m not picking up after someone else’s shit. It’s always Jean and his football friends making a mess.”

Jean turned violently, he was about to stand and open his mouth when Levi held him down by his shoulders.

“Silence, I’m not done speaking,” Levi said, “this is the problem with you all. You don’t act like classmates and you keep blaming each other and fighting for the smallest things. Nobody takes responsibility for anything. You are all part of this class, so you’re all responsible, I don’t care who made the mess. Somebody has to clean, and it’s not going to be me.”

Confused and annoyed faces stared at him, then at each other, but nobody else dared protest.

“So?” Levi crossed his arms against his chest, the last bit of patience leaving his body, “who’s going to stay to clean this shit up? Huh? Nobody? Should I choose, then?”

The was a round of laughter, but it didn’t last long after they saw Levi’s serious face.

“I’m not telling any jokes, so I don’t know why you’re laughing. Are you stupid or what? You think this is funny?”

Some students snorted as they attempted to restrain their laugh.

“What’s wrong Lee?” Said Connie, “had a fight with your girlfriend or something?” He laughed and the whole class laughed with him.

“Thank you for volunteering, Springer. I’ll see you after class with a mop and a bucket.”

“No!”

The class laughed again, but this time Connie didn’t. He sank back into his chair and elbowed Sasha, muttering a curse as she continued to laugh.

“Miss Braus looks like she wants to join you.”

Sasha’s smile was instantly wiped off her face. He was now shaking her head eagerly.

“Anyone else feels like cleaning after class?”

The whole class went now silent.

Levi turned, and began to write some questions on the board mindlessly. He was in no mood to try anything innovative for his class today. He’s just have them read and copy from the board and go to hell.

There was quiet mumbling again behind his back, not loud enough for a Levi to stop writing, though he kept his ears sharp all the same.

“I heard someone say he argued with Mr. Smith,” someone whispered. “They haven’t sat together at lunch since the trip.”

“Who said that?” Levi turned suddenly, but everyone was sitting straight in their chairs and copying.

He turned to the board again and there was soft giggling.

“More like who hasn’t,” he heard Jean whisper discreetly, but Levi’s ears were sharp. The piece of challenge he was writing with cracked in his hand. He turned, and fired it at Jean.

“Hey!” Jean jumped in his seat as the chalk landed with precision in the middle of his forehead.

“Kierschtein,” Levi played with the remaining of the chalk in his hand, ready for a second shot. “Page 159. Read. Now.”

“Jeez, fine,” the boy flipped the pages with one hand, rubbed his forehead with the other, then turned to Marco by his side. “What’s wrong with him today?”

“Kirsten!”

“Fine! Ok! I said ok! Jesus…”

Read on Ao3

#Eruri #Erwin x Levi #Eruri fics #AoT #SNK

14 notes · View notes

sunlightandsuffering · 2 years ago

Note

One thing I love about your fics is how you write Eren faithful to his fiery, hotblooded personality from earlier aot. Don’t get me wrong, I like Eren’s post timeskip style, but I do miss combative hotheaded Eren. And I feel like what you said in another post about how aot changed so much is very true, the latter part and ending of the story are so different from the beginning when it was just them vs the titans. I obviously like aot as a whole (and the last part gave us canon EM but at what cost), it’s just that I miss the feel of the early series

Aww thank you that makes me so happy!! I ADORE hot headed Eren, he is my favourite, and I miss him so much towards the end, I think that's maybe a part of how you can see he's dealt with it all, maybe it's a little bit of PTSD showing, mental health struggles, he just doesn't have it in him to be his passionate self, his burden is too great. It's really jaded him, my poor bb. I think Yams actually said, that outburst where he tells Armin how he wants Mikasa to remember him for 10 years at least, to not love someone else, he said that was like peak Eren coming back or something. And i totally agree, to me THAT is my Eren, his selfish passionate fiery personality, that was the first real moment of him we had in so long 😭🤧 I love him for it tho, it's one of my fave traits of his lol!! He's so cute!

I'll always try to incorporate him into fics lol, he's unhinged and I LOVE THAT FOR HIM!! HERE BESTIE HAVE SELFISH EREN!

But he can sure as fuck blame Porco for it, and he does, vowing to beat the shit out of the fucker at the first opportunity.

Mikasa was fucking his, her every first he’d taken.

Every. Single. One.

Possibilities Porco hadn’t even considered Eren had worked her through, his every sense attuned to her.

He could tell when she was going to come by just the flutter of her lashes, that sweet little sound she made whenever he sank into her for the first time, that lush, relaxed enjoyment. How she liked to linger, just feel it out, feel him.

Not Porco, not any other man, him.

For fuck’s sake he has scars down his back to prove it, the little half-moons of where her nails had dug in just a little too far, drawing blood, when he’d taken her virginity.

How she’d made that surprisingly sweet little ‘oh’ sounds the first time he’d taken her ass before turning to tell him she could take more, take all of him, how he’d fallen even more in love with her then.

How fucking shy she could be sometimes, how sweet even when she was fulfilling his every dirty fantasy, sucking him off while he played video games, asking if it was okay, if he was enjoying himself despite the fact that she’d blown him a hundred times before. She was constantly seeking his approval, his praise, her eyes lighting up with the barest of compliments, how she preened under his attention. It was him, him, him she cared about, needed like it was air to breathe.

17 notes · View notes

heavenzscent · 2 years ago

Note

For the ask game could you do: 🔑 + ❤️‍🔥 🪨 Thanks!

I felt like this was a little scandalous but I always wished we could have seen how Eren's friends handled him leaving. I always thought that Mikasa would grow closer to Jean and Connie who would take time to cheer her up and be more vulnerable than ever with Armin and Sasha. But yeah this all just came out and I’m not sure how accurate this is to the characters but I thought it was definitely fun to write. I hope you enjoy ! Setting: Survey Corps- 15- 19 ThemeS: Courage , Perseverance Word Count : 1,514

Year 854- 19 years old

Her breath was hot on his neck and her calloused hands gripped tightly to his forearm. They were surprisingly cold.

“Mikasa stay with me.” Jean pleaded in a breathy voice. “Just stay okay.”

All she could do was nod through the tears.

Jean could feel her body slacken as he rubbed circles between her shoulder blades and shushed her the way he had learned at the orphanage.

He reminded her to breathe for a long while until she finally loosened her grip from his forearm to reveal it was now covered in a purple band of bruises in the shape of her hands and small crescent cuts were beginning to spillover with blood.

He instructed her to lay down and she complied.

Once Mikasa’s breathing was even he got up to go find Armin.

“Where are you going?” She asked anxiously.

He couldn’t look at her. “I’m going to get Armin.”

“Don’t, I can’t right now!” She shrieked.

His first thought was to reassure her that Armin would not be angry and with his titan powers he was most definitely not hurt from her outburst after receiving Erens letter.

He had never seen her so distraught and it would have left him jarred if it hadn’t fallen on him to be the one to find her,restrain her, to keep her from hurting herself or anyone else since he was the second strongest and the biggest.

Her pride was bruised even at that moment she was covering her face with her pillow and worst of all she was ashamed. He took a little bit of blame for the latter.

“Mikasa look at me.” He said in a hushed tone. She simply shook her head from beneath the pillow. “We know he’s alive and we know where to find him. Maybe we could still find a way if we’re clever enough.” He barely believed his words but he hoped.

“I'm tired, Jean.” Her voice was muffled from beneath the pillow.

“Then rest.” He said simply.

“No, of chasing him. Why does he-”

“He’s a suicidal bastard.” Jean said without a thought. Eren never changed even when he seemed to be a whole new person the past few years. Something about that scared Jean, thinking about his own selfish nature at his core. He had to believe people could change, grow. To persevere past their own juvenile desires. There had to be hope or he would have to give up on himself and the world all together.

Mikasa rolled over to look him in the eye. He could barely make out her expression as the sun set deeper and with only a small oil lamp on her bedside to provide them with light. “It must be hard being right this whole time.”

“Wish I wasn’t.” He smiled bitterly but to his relief she reciprocated.

After 20 minutes of silence he had believed that she had fallen asleep. “Can you stay?” her voice sounded closer to herself then he had heard since they got Erens fucked up letter.

He hummed and nodded his head. He himself had grown drowsy after the adrenaline from holding her still had gone down. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the sturdy wooden chair next to her bed.

“You can come in.” She lifted her comforter up. As the sun disappeared the roles that they had lived in melted and they became whatever they had melded into for the past 2 months.

More than friends,

Less than lovers.

One anothers solace,

A shameful secret.

He simply stared at her. After the letter after all her tears and the possible guilt that she felt he didn’t think she would ever let him in her bed again. He was okay with it. He knew that this was something that wasn’t sustainable and barely even justifiable.

His body obeyed her command without his consent and he was nestled under the covers, his shoulder touching hers as they both lay on their back.

“It’s not as though this is the first time.” He heard a touch of grief in her voice. It hurt but he knew it wasn’t aimed towards him. All responsibility laid upon her shoulders in her mind.

“Maybe it should be the last.” He said.

He had said that every time.

“I’m sorry. The way I reacted.” She turned around her back facing him. “It was wrong. I just want you to know it’s not your fault.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you're you.” She said, “and I know you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She stroked his hair as if he were a rabbit about to bolt away at any moment. “There's a reason you got promoted.'' The little greedy beast inside of him wanted to pry kind words from her but that was enough he understood her as she did him at this point. She thought he was responsible and altruistic. He wished that was the truth. That this was all there was to it.

“Thank you. You're right but I just want you to know that I would never tell him. I know I could be a -”

“You're not a prick.” She interrupted with an urgent passion that he missed from her voice for so long resurfacing, although never could he remember it being used for his sake.

This was enough for him. To be cherished by her in the only way she could manage to.

“Anyways,I’m a big boy. I already knew how you felt about him.” He could see Mikasa blush in the lamp light.

“Jean, if this is our last night. I think I need to confess.”

“Is it about that last night on the hill?” He said maybe too bluntly even for him.

“How did you-”

“I know you.” He kissed her between the brows and smoothed out the creases that were developing with his rough fingers. He already had them as well, they seemed to refuse to disappear.

“He tried asking me about my feelings and I just stuttered like an idiot and now he’s gone off and he’s going to kill himself or us and all this innocent people and I-I just don-”

“Mikasa,” He gripped her shoulders tight to bring her back with him and out of her self blaming thoughts. “Nothings your fault. Leaving was his choice. Got it. We never were able to control him, this is just who he is.”

It would have been easier to say that after all the trouble Eren caused her since Jean had known them that she should just step away. Afterall Jean was the one right here in the bed with her. But He knew as well as Mikasa that one couldn’t control who they loved. Who provided them with hope.

Once he felt the new tension in her shoulders ease he let her go once more.

“Why?” He had some much more he wanted to say but his lips felt too dry and his throat too tight. Why did she not tell him the truth? Why did she hold back with Eren and so carelessly stumbled into him?

“I’m a coward.” She answered simply.

“We all can be.” He assured her. “But why?”

“I thought you knew me.” he could barely make out the smirk playing on her lips. He felt relieved by the weak but genuine smile. If she could still smile then she could get up and move forward with the rest of them. She should be okay. She was strong, always had been and he didn’t know a world where she wasn’t.

“You're a tough nut to crack Miss Ackerman.” He yawned.

Mikasa chuckled (He felt his chest swell with the sound). “He has so little time and what if it doesn’t work out or what we have isn’t as good as what we have now. I don’t want to waste our last few years on silly things because my eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

Jean believed that despite the lines crossed and the regrets over how their relationship had escalated that he and Mikasa would be fine and so it felt silly to think that Mikasa and Eren would ever become strangers to one another. “I understand but what if it's great. Everytime I bit off more than I could chew I always felt grateful to have so much food even though it may have hurt after the fact.”

They stared at one another meaningfully and understood because they knew each other. Much deeper than they should have.

Mikasa hummed as she mulled over his words.

She rolled closer to him and sighed. “ I’m a bad person.” She whispered into his chest.

“What are you going to do about it?” He asked.

“Move forward.” She answered without hesitation.

That would be his last night in her bed for many years to come. Even as the years passed with all the pain and regrets they weren't the type of people who could control where they found hope although they were the type who always chased it, which to no one's surprise but their own led them back into bed with each other.

#jeankasa #for Solciego #writing prompt #Thanks for the asks!#I loved your prompts so I really hope you enjoy this as well #This feels so different from what I usually write so I feel a little nervous lol #ask

11 notes · View notes