#armin art left

[happybird16]

He so cuuuute

[chrollohearttags]

bestie i love your version of eren sm!!!! could you give like a deep dive on his personality and his hobbies? i'm so obsessed and i can't get enough, i've been listening to the ej core playlist on repeat! tysm for writing him so well he's such a comfort

thank you sm bestie!!! I can’t believe somebody else actually listens to it besides me!! But of course I can 🥹 I’ve missed him so bad.

so I’ve talked about this forever ago but eren was always a very introverted person. Even as a kid, he stayed to himself and he just struggled with interacting with people. But mainly because he just loved music over everything else so he shut out the rest of the world. He had Mikasa and Armin for a little while but they were also the kids of famous billionaires so they moved around and were gone once he became a teenager. Eren used to despise small talk and had lowkey terrible communication skills (still love him though! 😭). But he’s honestly just not used to having people around him that he could truly relate to. Another thing about him, even though he left home really young, he is a mama’s boy! He and miss Carla are best friends and he don’t play about her. She has songs with voicemails of her hyping him up on it. She comes to his shows and y’all know Mrs. Jaeger is a baddie so she gets mistaken for his sister or his fans will try to get with her lmao!! His dad on the other hand? Not so much and it’s been hard for him to mend their relationship (for reasons coming in the later chapters). It’s affected a lot of his adult life but he doesn’t like to talk about it much. Which made him really guarded. He started putting all his feelings into his art to help not only himself but others heal. So many fans hear his music and says it’s helped them through the hardest times. To his core though, Eren is truly a sweetheart. Behind his black clothes and nail polish, all the jewelry and emo look, he’s so nice and is also very sensitive. It may take him a while to open up (and trust, he will damn near push you away) but he is such a loverboy to his core. He’s a natural protector and will go to the end of the earth for the ones he adores. Someone said that (y/n) truly healed his inner child and I agree 😭

As far as his hobbies, outside of music of course..he LOVESSS cars! Specifically older muscle cars. He goes to car shows and races all the time. Fans will spot him and ask him for autographs, whole time he’s geeking out over the different motors and vehicle types. He tinkers with old ones and tries to fix them too. He also has a CRAZY collection of new and vintage that’s worth millions. He loves drawing and has actually drawn a lot of the tattoos he has. Like his dragon piece, one he designed for (y/n) and a couple others. He’s an all around creative and he has to be doing something all the time. He’s also big into video games and he and his friends stream on Twitch.

[jjkeremika]

Goofy

description: you think levi’s too serious. he thinks you’re too goofy.

levi ackerman (aot/snk) x reader (fem!reader), levi x you

disclaimer/warning(s)?: aot universe (you’re a scout); historia/sasha/ymir/you/armin friend group; hair pulling; NSFW

“fuck, marry, kill…” sasha giggled at the prompt before ymir even finished the sentence, which caused historia and you to laugh too. ymir ignored everyone and counted the men on three fingers as she spoke their names into the game. “erwin, levi, eren.”

“oooh!” historia squealed, her palms covering her open mouth, resting into her knees and sitting onto the backs of her calves. “i have to think about this one…”

“booriiing,” sasha sighed dramatically and loudly, dropping her head to her arms. she drew a heart in the loose dirt with her finger and kicked her legs in the air. “connie and jean aren’t even in this one…”

ymir scoffed, “sh’yeah,” rolling her eyes and scowling, kicking at the building’s wooden siding, “there’s a reason for that.”

“do you think captain would kill me if i killed him?” sasha asked sincerely, pausing her art to glance around the small crowd. “he scares me.” she glanced to her left and right before chuckling out, “and not in the good way.”

you shrugged, mentally disagreeing. definitely in the good way. “hey, they each have their perks.” you lifted one hand in the air. “marrying erwin means good eats…” you smiled at the array of considerate nods as everyone remembered his campfire stew. you raised the other hand. “levi guarantees clean living.” you thought back to him in his white apron, the handkerchief tied up in his hair, the broom handle firmly held in his grip.

ymir cackled crudely, leaning deeper into her slump against the wall. “what’s eren’s perk?”

you pursed your lips playfully and dropped your hands to your lap. “he’s… passionate,” you supplied weakly, high-pitched, shrugging awkwardly, the other perks of marrying the captain still occupying your mind. you opted for a joke instead, “his girlfriend’s hot.”

sasha laughed and pulled some more grass from the ground, letting it fall into the rest of the pile. ymir glanced at historia before chuckling and nodding in agreement.

“i feel bad killing eren,” historia added quietly, talking to herself, oblivious to the rest, “but mikasa might kill me if i don’t…”

you guffawed and clapped once, which took historia out of her own mind with an embarrassed blush. “tori, its a game.” you tapped her arm. “you can fuck her boyfriend in a game.”

you caught historia and ymir look to each other before both hurried to look away; historia with a nervous sheen and ymir with a disappointed scowl. “would you even want to?” she muttered into her shoulder.

“what about you, ymir?” you asked, gesturing to her with a nod of your head and a faux evil smirk.

“eh, i’d kill all of ‘em,” she answered plainly, a noticeable contrast to the mischievous light in her dark eyes, “and play with their girlfriends.”

you and sasha made amused eye contact and hid your laughter in your palms, sasha practically screaming.

you all but swallowed your tongue when historia directed her question towards you, “you’d fuck levi, right, y/n? would you care if i did, too?”

ymir sneered and rolled her eyes again, and you heard sasha whisper to her, “girl. why did you even ask?”

you blushed, suddenly aware of the heat of attention. you tugged at your shirt collar, finding it too tight. “w-why do you say that?”

“uh,” ymir replied first, like it was obvious, like it was confusing to them why you were even asking, “because you want to fuck him?”

you rotated your attention between your three girl friends while ymir and historia giggled. the unpleasant heat overtook your body. “n-no, that’s not what i…” you settled on historia, taking a mini deep breath, trying to ignore the uncomfortable rustling in your chest. “why would i care if you chose him?”

historia’s face lit in nervous surprise. “o-oh, b-because you…” she tilted her head to the side, raised her eyebrow. she questioned herself as her sentence tapered off. “don’t you…?”

“hey!” the four of you jumped at armin’s sudden appearance from behind the building. he had the same bright, wide smile on his face that he always did when he approached the four of you, like a younger brother desperately trying to fit in with his older sister and her friends.

he sat in the circle with his legs crossed between ymir and sasha. a spot he now claimed as his own. he smiled at each of you. “what are you girls talking about?”

you felt your body temperature rise as the thought of armin already knowing popped into your mind, as you wondered if he’d overheard everything and timed the perfect entrance, the perfect cover.

historia’s eyes were fixed to the pile of grass near sasha’s fist. sasha repeatedly traced the same shape in the dirt before her. ymir debated kicking armin’s cheek with the heel of her boot.

“are you one of the girls, armin?” you asked with a straight face. ymir, historia, and sasha all looked to him simultaneously. “do you swear your clitoris to the greater girlie good?”

you bit back your smirk as you watched the adam’s apple in his throat bob, as you noticed the small droplets of nervous sweat forming in his hairline. sasha and ymir hid their smug smiles behind their hands.

“you have to answer the question, armin,” sasha added, nodding convincingly. “you can’t be one of the girls if you don’t.”

“pretty simple stuff,” ymir added casually, checking her fingernails. “we all did.”

“swear it every day,” historia mused quietly, the four of you sharing a smile.

his flushed face made the bright pink blush oh so noticeable. armin played with his fingers, slumped lightly in his position. “does it, um. w-well. c-can i swear on an honorary cli—” he interrupted himself with a loud swallow. “o-one? can i swear on an honorary o-one?”

the four of you made bemused eye contact with each other before looking back to armin. you shrugged as historia giggled behind her palm. “yeah,” you answered casually, “we’ll allow it.”

“you have to say the word though, armin,” ymir threatened, sitting upright and moving closer to him, “say clitoris, armin. say. it.”

“ymir, stop,” historia denounced, moving to grab her shoulder, yanking her back, “don’t harass him.”

ymir rolled her eyes, but let historia drag her closer. “it’s literally a word, tori. he’s a big boy. he can say clitoris.” she turned her head to look at historia, whose face was only inches away. “you say it.”

you and sasha chuckled awkwardly, turning your attention away from them. “uh, ignore them,” you told armin, “we were just playing fuck, marry, kill.”

*******************

sasha chuckled quietly into the crook of her elbow as she blatantly watched ymir draw a cartoon of the commander and the captain in armin’s notebook.

poor armin was just trying to take notes on the formation and erwin’s tips and suggestions when ymir leaned over and started drawing mildly offensive caricatures of the whole team. you tuned out of the lecture as she was drawing one extremely tall and one extremely small cartoon.

you peered at the doodle from over armin’s shoulder and your fingernails squeezed into the coarse green fabric of the cape to distract you from laughing.

“make hange a pet titan. give levi a mop. give erwin a horse,” sasha not-so-quietly whispered to ymir, “oh! oh! no! make levi his horse.”

“sasha, shut the fuck up,” ymir quietly retorted, trying not to laugh more than anything else, “youre not funny.”

armin put his pencil down and hid his entire face behind both of his palms. sasha mockingly repeated ymir’s sentence as she leaned back into her chair. “yeah, well, you’re not nice,” she concluded and rolled her eyes, crossed her arms in a huff.

you tapped ymir’s arm from behind armin’s back. “give him a leash,” you added, gesturing to levi with a nod to the front of the room.

ymir snorted and shook her head disapprovingly, but her pencil started moving to oblige. “yeah, you’d fucking like that wouldn’t you.”

armin looked to you curiously, but you glanced levi up and down. “oh, yeah.” you nodded repeatedly, a smirk settling as your jaw locked. “i’d ride him all day.” armin’s wide eyes caught your attention, and the color flushed from your cheeks. “l-like a horse.” you felt the heat prickling under your skin.. you wondered if he knew. “like how you… how you ride a… horse.”

armin nodded slowly, concern and confusion bubbling in the blue. you started to laugh uncomfortably. “armin, stop. don’t look at me like that.” you pushed his face away with your palm.

“y/n! quit messing around!” levi shouted, the authoritative command stimulating each nerve and crawling under your skin. his voice echoed in the room.

you felt the entire room’s eyes settle on you. you smiled in disbelief that he singled you out, again. “aye, aye, captain,” you sang monotoned and coldly saluted, digging your toes into your shoes when you saw the slightest twitch of his eyebrow.

**************

“did you guys see levi’s new boots today?” historia asked in between a bite of her salad, the tiny tomato rolling off from the fork tine.

sasha glanced up at her then to you. “highly surprised that didn’t come from y/n.”

“shut up,” you chirped, stabbing the cucumber with your fork, “i would’ve asked if you saw his cock outline, so,” you added, punctuating your sentence by biting into your lettuce, winking.

ymir and sasha laughed boisterously. historia nearly choked on her kale. “oh my god, stop,” she mumbled between small coughs, covering her mouth politely, “i was just pointing out his new boots have heels.”

“ooh, tall boy,” ymir snarked, pointed at historia with her fork, “that’s sexy.”

“wait, did you see his outline?” sasha asked you, reaching her hand across the table to cover yours.

you shook your head and chuckled lightly, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “in those jeans? no.”

“i think they’re riding boots so they add a couple inches. he was almost as tall as mikasa when i saw them together earlier,” historia continued.

“do you think he’ll ride you with those boots?” ymir diverted the conversation, pointing to you.

sasha cackled and clapped her hands. “shit, he can if he wants to,” you answered with a laugh, a pink blush hugging your cheeks. you felt neighboring eyes turn to your group.

“not with the boots,” historia murmured into her hand, rubbing at her forehead, trying not to laugh along with her friends.

“yes with the boots!” sasha yelled along too loudly for comfort, slapping the table excitedly.

fellow scouts at the nearby tables started looking over. “she just pegs him,” ymir added with a loud cackle, knocking her arm against sasha’s chaotically.

sasha fell into her arms on the table, drowning her laughter out. “ymir!” historia yelped, her fork rattling against the bowl, her innocence plastered bright red on her cheeks.

“boots stay on,” you added cheekily before taking a deep breath and stabbing at more lettuce. sasha wiped at her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“i was kidding!” ymir excused herself loudly, arms raised in an unapologetic defense.

“i wasn’t,” you said. you made wide eye contact with sasha before ironically following with, “who said that?” and watching your friend break out into another fit of laughter.

“y/n!” the shout cut through the cafeteria chatter like an elephant on thin ice. you felt the syllables dig into your skin with sharp fingernails and claw its way to your skull. “cut that shit out!”

the chatter and laughter in the room fled into eerie silence as you turned your to see levi glaring at you with a burning scowl. “whatever you saayy,” you sang sourly, muttering “captain buzzkill,” under your breath and outbreaking into a giggle afterwards.

a confident heat rose in your chest as you noticed levi’s lip and eye twitch in sync. you felt his watchful eyes linger on you the rest of the night.

**************

“we’re going to have to separate the four of you,” commander erwin announced, glancing at each of you individually but spending most of his time on you: the one deemed most problematic. “the four of you are loud and disruptive.”

ymir rested her arm comfortingly around historia, who was starting to tear up from being reprimanded. “that’s dumb. eren is way more disruptive and he’s still around,” she grumbled, which earned her a slap on the wrist from historia.

“yeah! why are getting separated when we haven’t even done anything?” sasha questioned confidently, but sank in her seat as soon as levi and erwin’s dark glares casted over her.

levi’s settled on you. “ask captain goofy over here,” he answered disgruntled, his face twitching in and out of a tight scowl. he crossed his arms defensively across his chest.

you scoffed. “goofy?” you stared at the visibly disturbed captain in disbelief. “i do less than everyone else!”

“stop,” erwin demanded, seemingly purposefully lowering his voice. he straightened out his spine. “you are all disruptive to the learning environment.”

“oh, brother,” sasha groaned, resting her cheek into her fist, “some learning environment.”

“have you considered that the learning environment is stupid?” ymir objected, and historia slapped her arm again.

“quiet,” levi said as he stepped forward, the platform heel of his boot clicking against the tile. “you’re further proving the point.”

the group of girls smirked. ymir glanced him up and down. “nice boots,” she chided, sitting back in the chair and resting her shoes against the desk, “one inch? two inches?” she eyed him curiously as she held up three fingers. “three?”

you and sasha giggled. “did she put you up to this?” levi asked ymir directly, sharply, meanwhile he pointed at you.

you scoffed in disbelief, again. you turned to the commander, argumentatively held out a flat palm towards levi. “i breathe and get accused from captain cruel.”

“knock it off,” levi ordered, his eyes immediately fixing towards you, intimidatingly stepping towards you, still pointing at you, “you’re on thin ice.” his jaw locked.

you thought about licking it. “or what?” you felt hot under his intense gaze. you couldn’t help but cynically smile. “you’ll call me goofy again?”

you caught him off guard, saw the slight panic in his eyes when you didn’t stand down.

he took another step forward, a fire replacing the split second of nerves, and he debated pulling you down to him by your hair. he debated making you regret the scene. and he debated doing it in front of everyone.

“oh, hey, everyone,” the familiar voice greeted, a wave of sheer innocence washing over the stiff, tense room. “is there a meeting i didn’t know about?” armin quickly glanced around, tilting his head questioningly when he noticed levi. “oh, captain, did you swear your clitoris to the greater girlie good, too?”

you pursed your lips and crossed your legs to stay quiet and nonchalant as the girls broke out into hysterical laughter. you watched the deep red break out on levi’s face, practically watched the steam seep out of his ears.

erwin ignored the comment, awkwardly walked armin out, but levi was glaring at you like he couldn’t decide if he should murder you now or later.

“everyone out. now,” levi ordered, his tone verging bloodthirsty, a pitch none of you have heard before. the room erupted into a myriad of noise as chairs and shoes collided with the floor. “not you.” the index finger pointing towards you was overkill. his stare was burning countless holes into your stature. you were practically melting into the ground.

he glared daggers and spears and bullets until you were scraps hanging by threads. his stare hardened until you two were the only ones left in the room, when his facade collapsed and his face contorted into haughty anger and confusion.

“I don’t fucking get you,” he admitted after minutes of aching silence, leaning against the desktop.

“join the club,” you muttered, checking your fingernails, “i don’t get you either.”

his fist slapped against the table, the painful noise reverberating through the vacant room. your attention shot to him. “i didn’t fucking say you could speak.” his tone trailed off as he spoke. you noticed him shake out his hand.

you gasped in disbelief. “jeez, are you always this tense?” you tentatively took a step forward, eying him cautiously. you paused when he glanced over.

“you make me tense!” he shouted, exasperated, flailing his arms in the air. “fucking something about you just… irritates me.”

“poetic,” you responded instantly, defensively. you cocked your hip and crossed your arms.

“jesus, y/n, not everything’s a fucking joke!” he pinched the bridge of his nose and refused to make eye contact with you.

you shrank in your spot, shriveling and wilting like a thirsty, neglected plant. you liked when his attention was on you. “better that than everything being deathly serious,” you retorted defensively, meekly, “you’ll have a heart attack, living like that.”

he huffed, flicked his head to fix the strands of hair that fell out of place, the ones not worth the energy to touch. “no one will ever take you seriously. you’ll always be—”

“goofy?” you interrupted, wearing a tiny smile. you couldn’t help it. he was shining in the waning sunlight sneaking in through the exposed windows.

his expression didn’t waver, the same stern, crass look plastered on his face, but now with an amused glint in his eyes. levi closed the gap between you by a couple steps.

“yeah,” he agreed breathlessly, reaching his hand up and squishing your cheeks together, “always a fucking joke.”

you looked down at him, absentmindedly bending your knees to bring him closer to eye level. the skin was tingling under his touch. he took the distracted opportunity to ravel one fist in your hair and pulled down, throwing you to the floor.

a stinging signal spread to your eyes as thousands of nerve endings prickled along your scalp. “agh, fuck!” you cried, your hands reaching to cup the irritated skin, “uh, ow!”

his hand was wrapped in your hair again within seconds. he knelt down and pulled your head upwards, forcing you to make eye contact. the blood rushed through your veins and you felt the scared adrenaline amplifying everything. every unsettling itch racing through your bloodstream.

“what? can’t take a joke?” he hissed, every muscle in his body locked and tensed like being this close to you was physically tough for him.

“some joke,” you grumbled weakly, meeting his fiery gaze and feeling your stomach flip and drop and define new movements. you felt sparks at the friction between your legs as you squirmed.

you flinched as his face inched closer, as he inspected you. “let me guess.” he ignored you. his nose brushed against the thin sensitive skin of your neck, teased against the perky hairs near your ear. “punishment’s not really your thing?”

the uncharacteristic whimper escaped as soon as you felt his lips less than a hair’s width from your skin. you swore you felt a smirk before he ripped all contact away and tugged mercilessly on your hair, lifting you to your feet.

you had no time to process before his hands were roughly grabbing your sides and hips and he was forcibly walking you backward until your thighs collided with the hard desk and you fell over, your ass hardly and uncomfortably landing against the solid material, your feet lifting up from under you. you threw your arm back behind you to brace your fall, prevent you from uncontrollably sliding off the desk, but your hand collided with air and you only fell further, your stomach leaping into your throat at the free fall.

“ah!” you whined as you felt caught by levi’s firm grip in your hair, a life-saving tether that sparked inexplicable feelings elsewhere. you felt a couple strands of hair detach at the force. you didn’t really care.

you looked to him as his free arm swept around your waist and pulled you closer, your lower cheeks bracing his warm upper thighs and your face erupting into pinks and reds as his prominent erection settled just above the warmest bud of your body, where you wanted to touch the most.

he let go of your hair, gently caressed the fiery nerves of the roots and stared into your eyes. his eyes were softening the longer he stared at you like this, the longer he thought about how hot and itchy and uncomfortable your roots must be.

you couldn’t help yourself. not when you knew what was going to ensue when you did.

“got any more jokes, funny guy?” you asked him sarcastically, smirking arrogantly, inching your nose closer to his.

[cosmicjoke]

Alright... okay... I just... need a moment.

Fuck, I'm emotional. I'm trying to gather my thoughts, but it's difficult. So I'm going to try my best.

First, I just want to say thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone involved in the creation of this anime, of this story, of this masterful, masterful piece of art. The animators, the composers, the writers, the voice actors, the directors, the producers, just, everyone. And most especially, to Hajim Isayama, who, without doubt, has created one of the greatest stories ever told.

And with that said, I'm just going to say this. "Attack on Titan" is, in my opinion, the greatest show ever made. I mean that, sincerely, and with all my heart. It's the greatest show, and one of the greatest stories, of all time. It's truly a masterpiece. A pillar of great art. I don't think that's hyperbole. I think that's absolutely true.

I don't even know where to start.

I'm just blown away. Completely blown away.

Ahh, well, I guess I'll just start by talking about some of the changes that were made, and what wasn't, and how much I appreciate both. I knew they would stick with the overall story and not change the ending, and I'm so glad they didn't, because it was always the right ending. I don't care what anyone says, what anyone's criticisms are. This was always, always, always the right ending.

The obviously biggest change was the conversation between Armin and Eren near the end, and I think, given the controversy caused by this particular moment in the manga, I'm not surprised, and I think they did an excellent job of clarifying what Armin actually meant, and most importantly, that he wasn't ever condoning Eren's actions. That they had Armin instead take on and shoulder the responsibility of Eren's actions, in a show of love and friendship to Eren, was incredibly moving and gut-wrenching at the same time. That Armin blamed himself for what Eren did as much as Eren himself, and said that they would be together again someday, in hell, was actually incredibly shocking to me. But then, it makes perfect sense for Armin's character. Armin, who from the very beginning understood and accepted the bleak reality of war, of having to abandon one's humanity in order to accomplish victory. Armin's never shied away from who he really is, or what he's capable of, or tried to console himself with an idealized self-image. It doesn't surprise me that he blames himself for Eren's actions, or takes on as much responsibility for them as he places on Eren. Though one could argue all day against Armin's self-condemnation, I think it makes perfect sense for his character. I also adore how they really clarified and left no room for doubt as to the motivation behind Eren's actions. He just flat out admits at the end that it was because he wanted to "see this sight", meaning a world completely devoid of humanity, of life. He admits to Armin that he's a "slave to freedom", that this outcome came about because of who he is and for no other reason. Not to make the alliance into heroes, not to save Paradis. It was because Eren couldn't accept a concept of freedom beyond what he'd seen in Armin's book. Because, as he says of himself, he was an idiot who came into power. 80% of the world's population died because of that. But as Historia also admits in the end, it's also a result of ALL their choices. I always have maintained that AoT is a cautionary tale of what happens when we blame and persecute and hold accountable people for the sins of the past. Eren, an idiot, only came into that power to begin with because of Marley's persecution of the Eldian's, continuing to punish the Eldian people for the crimes of their ancestors. Indeed, Historia was correct. It was a culmination of all of their choices. Violence begetting more violence, and on and on the cycle continues.

The Jeagerist's created an army out of fear of reprisals from what remains of the outside world, but in doing so, they sealed their own fate. In becoming so hostile to begin with, they ensured those reprisals. That's the great irony. They formed an army to protect themselves, they became a hostile nation, an isolationist nation, and in the end, it lead directly to them being destroyed. As Armin tells Eren, his violence and desire to see a world wiped clean of humanity leaves them with nothing but the lesson of kill or be killed. It leaves nothing but a legacy of continued violence. That's the whole point of this story, of course. That violence only ever leads to more violence. Even when we don't have a choice, even when we're backed into a corner and there's no way out but to fight, even when it's the right and only choice. That's the tragedy of violence. That's the tragedy of the world. That's the tragedy of humanity. It's not that violence is always wrong. Violence isn't always wrong, but it's always tragic, and it always only leads to tragedy. Armin's condemnation of Eren and his actions here, telling him that he's robbed the world of even the small hope of one day understanding one another, that's the condemnation of Eren's violence, the condemnation of the cycle of violence. He pushed Paradis toward armament through his actions, but so did the rest of the world. People will always fight one another. There will always be war as long as there are people. The only way there won't be war is if there are no people, as Armin says, and that's the biggest joke of all. There's no such thing as lasting peace. Paradis meets its demise in the very end because it falls to the same trap, the same cycle of violence, the same cycle of continued hate that drives all war and that, saddest of all, is intrinsic to the human condition. Violence is intrinsic to the human condition, and to nature itself. In the end, Paradis brings about it's own demise, just as, in the end, Marley and all those who persecuted the Eldian's, brought about theirs. This is an anti-war story. That's what it's always been. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. But it's also a story about the tragedy of humanity and the inescapability of our nature as a species.

So, okay, now, because I'm primarily a blog which talks about Levi, and because Levi is probably, far and away, my favorite character of all time, I have to talk about him.

What can I say?

Levi was the hero of this final episode. Of this final bow of what, again I repeat, is the greatest show I've ever seen, and one of the greatest stories ever told.

Levi is a hero.

First, if anyone, if I see anyone ever, ever, ever question Levi's commitment to humanity and to saving it ever again, after watching this episode, I will come down on them like a fucking bomb myself.

Levi saved humanity.

They all did, of course. They all contributed.

But Levi... Levi was the leader that saved humanity. He became the leader in that moment that humanity needed. For all the talk and accusations thrown Levi's way, of robbing humanity of it's greatest chance at survival in Erwin, by letting Erwin die, it was in a time of humanities greatest need that Levi stepped up and took the reigns and didn't let humanity fall.

Levi wasn't the strongest in this battle. He wasn't humanities strongest soldier anymore. He wasn't the most affective in battle, or able to single-handedly turn the tide of the battle, like he might once have been able to. But he didn't let anyone give up. He didn't let anyone give in. He didn't let anyone lose hope.

I've been saying this since the manga ended, but seeing it brought to life like this only drives it home all the more.

Levi rallied and organized and held together his soldiers when they were all ready to give up and give in. When his own body was ready to give in and give up, Levi's heart and will wouldn't. It was Levi who enabled Mikasa to deliver the final, killing blow to Eren by not giving in to despair or fear or grief when it became clear that everyone on the ground was going to turn into a pure titan. It was Levi who, in the end, fulfilled the dream of his fallen comrades of a world without titans, by keeping it together and giving out orders, by abandoning his own driving need to save lives, like he's always done, since the beginning, in order save more, in order to save the lives of people who had done nothing, in fact, but condemn and persecute him his whole life.

Levi is a hero. He's a pure hero. He has the purest heart of anyone. He's the best of them all.

And I think the change they made to Levi's final scene just drives that truth home all the more.

I'm not gonna' lie, I nearly burst into tears seeing what they did in Levi's last scene. To have him sitting there in his wheelchair, his body not even a fraction of what it had once been, but still finding a way to help people, to help, especially, children, again, it drives home without doubt what Levi is. A hero. To see him handing out candy to children, to see the happiness he finds in that simple act... Jesus Christ, I really don't even know what to say about this. It was maybe the most beautiful moment in the entire series. Shit, I'm gonna start crying just talking about it. To see him smile, again, at last, to see him truly at peace. He found a way to be a hero, even with his strength gone. He found a way to be a hero without having to be a weapon, because Levi's heroism was never in his strength. It was never because he was physically strong, or a weapon. It was never because being a hero was easy for him. It was because of his heart. Because his heart is the heart of a hero. His heart is the heart of someone who has only ever wanted to help and protect others. That he still wants to and does help people, despite already having given everything...

Yeah, don't nobody ever, EVER say to me again that Levi doesn't care about humanity. He helps even when he doesn't have to. Even when he deserves to be selfish.

He cares more than anyone.

Man, that's all I have for now. I'm pretty speechless about this episode. I'm just beyond words.

Greatest show ever. Not anime. Just any show, ever. One of the greatest pieces of cinema ever made. One of the greatest stories ever told, with some of the greatest characters to ever exist.

Thank you Hajime Isayama, for giving this gift to the world.

[minami-ff]

Captain, Truth or Dare?

Levi x Reader

The open field outside the walls bathed in the soft saturated hues of the evening, as you and your comrades sat in a circle. Sasha had coerced everyone into playing ‘Truth or Dare’. Levi desperately wanted to find a quiet spot, away from hearing this nonsensical game, but had to stay close for protective duty.

Sasha smirked mischievously at you. "Alright, y/n, Spill it. Who do you have a crush on in the squad?”

A collective murmur of protest echoed through the group, "yeah we agreed not to ask that," you replied.

The air hung in silence as your refusal to answer left the question lingering. Sasha leaned in with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, "fine, fine. Then what's your ideal type of guy?"

You bit your lower lip, contemplating how to navigate this minefield without revealing too much. You had always been terrified that you would be kicked out of the squad if you revealed who had been occupying your thoughts all the time. Though word had it that Captain Levi gave you so much preferential treatment that a dismissal would never occur.

"I don't know," you began, strategically choosing to divert your true thoughts.

"Maybe someone carefree," thinking about his meticulous attention to detail.

"Laid-back," you continued, a complete opposite of Levi’s stern demeanour.

"Openly expressive," you added, against his highly reserved nature.

"A bit of a bad boy?" you chuckled, masking your captain’s discipline.

Connie giggled, "okay, so Captain is out."

Armin chimed in, "that's for sure."

Your words which painted a picture of an antithesis of Levi’s persona left him with disappointment subtly flickering in his eyes. He felt an unusually sudden twist in emotions, but ensured none of his feelings surfaced. Though he mastered the art of concealment, you noticed the tightening of his jaw when you glanced over at him, unsure of what it suggested.

Jean interjected teasingly. "Sounds like you're describing Eren."

You dismissed Jean's comment with a shake of your head, finding it utterly ridiculous. "Eren is way too young for me."

Eren, with an offended sneer on his face, "Uh, three years is barely any difference."

Eyes narrowed, you retorted, "Uh, yes it is."

Eren persisted, his playful grin widening, "You're just being prejudiced against younger guys. Bet you wouldn’t say the same thing about a man three years older."

Levi, quietly eavesdropping on the exchange, side-eyed the group, a secret indication of his curiosity. All eyes turned to you as the conversation hung in the air.

"Fine, this time you're right, a man three years older would definitely be perfect for me." You admitted, thinking it was a safe answer, while Eren snickered in victory.

The atmosphere shifted as Sasha, always eager for some excitement, seized the opportunity. "Alright, Captain, truth or dare?"

Ignoring Sasha entirely, Levi remained aloof, leaving the air thick with awkwardness.

Sasha pressed on, undeterred by the captain's silence, "okay truth! So captain, what is your birth year? I mean you know all of our ages, could we have an exchange of clarity?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, the entire field seemed to hold its breath. Levi's eyes flickered, a subtle change in his typically stoic expression.

"829," Levi admitted. A collective gasp of disbelief echoed through the group. You, too, were taken aback; yes he had a youthful appearance, but his experience was nothing short of astonishing, so you always assumed he was at least 7 years your senior.

“WAIT, that means Captain is three years older than y/n?!” Eren exclaimed, his surprise mirroring your own.

Sasha erupted into laughter, "Y/n, what were you saying again, about a man three years older?"

“Perfect for you?” Jean added to the fire.

The entire group joined in, a chorus of laughter that seemed to reverberate through the field. Heat rushed to your face, the teasing turning your cheeks crimson as you wished to dive into a deep hole.

Seeing your vulnerable body language, Levi intervened, breaking the moment with his sternness. He threw a bunch of papers towards the group, the rustle of the pages cutting through the laughter,

"Break is over. First person to collect all the plants listed gets extra meat for dinner tonight."

The shift from amusement to duty was swift, and the group dispersed as everyone refocused on the mission at hand. You and Levi locked eyes for a brief but electrifying moment before you shamefully looked away, then trudged off into the fields.

[kapeeshkapoosh]

true love’s kiss

a/n: cute idea i had, inspired by an armin story from ages ago that i read on devian art LMFAO, idk what it’s called but credit to that - however mine is very cliche and has bad writing

synopsis: Gojo signed up for the latest play from the theatre club for one sole reason, the true love’s kiss.

contents: gojo oneshot, gojo x reader, gojo has a massive crush, teenage gojo, no curses au, regular high school, little bit of swearing, cliché play plot, 1.4k words, shoko and geto not helping w gojo’s crush at all, oblivious reader, no use of y/n!

Gojo Satoru x F! Reader

When Gojo first found out that you had signed up for this year’s annual play from Shoko, he was quick to put his name on the list.

At first, he was cocky and fully sure in himself that he would get the main love interest with his natural charisma, since you were auditioning for the main role. However, once he heard you practicing for your audition with Shoko, he was shaking in his boots. Simply put, if Gojo wanted to be the main male lead role so that he could get the ‘True Love’s Kiss’ at the end of the play, he had to put in the work.

Every day from then on, he was devoted to becoming a (temporary) actor. Once you found out about this, you were eager to help him out. Considering that you were part of the theatre club and signed up for the play every year, he was happy to get your help.

He was also bursting with joy that his crush was willing to help him get the love interest of her character.

He remembers the morning of try-outs vividly.

You sat next to him in the hall as others did their auditions. It was early Saturday morning, and everyone was rather pumped up.

You seemed confident, but goosebumps trailed up your arms as it got closer and closer to your turn. Gojo wanted to help calm your nerves, but this guy was also shitting himself as his name was up next and he was unsure of whether he would fumble or not.

When his name got called out, shortly after the incredibly enchanting audition by one of his underclass men, he got up nervously and gingerly walked up onto the stage.

At first, the teacher could easily sense his nervousness, so she started off with some simple lines. Once Gojo eased into them, he really started to shine. He was good at everything, of course he would be good at acting as well.

Once his audition finished, you had stars in your eyes; you were truly stunned by what had just happened. When he returned to his seat, he was confused by your expression.

You were awe-struck, but also insanely motivated to give the audition your all.

After a few more people, your name was finally called, yours being the last audition before the try-outs would be closed. Most, if not all, students had left by now; only Gojo and your theatre teacher were in the room.

Your teacher was excited for your audition; she started off with lines that matched your level of acting, and you quickly got into character.

Now if Gojo’s audition was motivational, yours was life-changing.

Sure, Gojo had been at your plays before during other school events, but he had never really focused. Usually messing with Geto and Shoko as they tried to concentrate on the play.

Once yours was done, he was glad yours was the final one; no one else had been there to witness it but you and him, as well as your theatre teacher. He now understood the importance of saving the best for last.

You and Gojo left shortly after, greeting your teacher goodbye and going to get a celebratory bite at the café.

-

The next Monday, when you returned to school, you and Gojo both promised to not look at the results without each other. You rushed to school early that day, finding Gojo already in the classroom with Geto and Shoko. You and Gojo quickly ushered over to the bulletin board; a hoard of students were already looking.

A bunch of ‘aww’s and ‘yes!’s were heard as you pushed your way through, holding onto Gojo firmly by his wrist.

Your eyes followed the text on the pink sheet of paper. A squeal left you as you turned to Gojo. “We got it!” You shook his shoulders, giving him a bone-crushing hug after.

When the two of you returned to the classroom, hand in hand, you beaming and Gojo’s pale face flushed with red, Geto and Shoko burst out laughing.

♡

After every Wednesday practice, which usually lasted till 6, you and Gojo would go out to some place to eat. Not that you didn’t do this before, but now it was just you and Gojo.

He had discovered much more that he didn’t know about you before, like how when you got a line wrong during practice, you would immediately laugh, causing everyone to laugh behind stage. Everyone seemed to like you in the theatre club, and it was no surprise when he saw how much you helped.

On most days of practice, you would stay back way later to help the lighting crew and the people doing the background props.

Meaning Gojo had to wait, which he didn’t mind, but it made him look like a lousy actor who was too lazy to help. (He eventually got assigned as the errand boy that had to buy drinks from the vending machine every practice)

He wasn’t as popular on the set as you were; sure, the girls fawned over him, but the males seemed jealous and always shined the stage lights in his eyes during practice. This worked out badly in their case, since you would stop all acting and make sure he was okay. This took especially long since Gojo was the biggest diva known to man. Also because he was more than happy to piss the jealous boys off as he smiled smugly at them while he pretended to be temporarily blinded.

After a few weeks, everything was done.

Apart from the kiss.

Everyone had seemed to tiptoe around the subject, per your request.

You had wanted to kiss Gojo once, and you wanted it to be perfect. Gojo hadn’t forgotten about the kiss though, but he couldn’t get an answer as to why it was never practiced, always getting brushed off and told, “Go buy more drinks, errand boy.”

Slowly, the big night was coming up.

The tickets had all been sold, and everything was practiced perfectly, to a point where you were dreaming about it in your sleep.

However, the entire week building up to the night, Gojo had spent his time trying to piece together the mystery of 'the true love’s kiss.’ He had even asked the teacher, who had given him a vague answer as well.

So, the last option was you.

Everyone was stressed out about the performance, the lights, and the sound.

But Gojo could only think about you.

Today was a big night for the third years, possibly the biggest night for those wanting to continue with musical arts and theatre.

Meaning you should, in theory, be stressing and shitting yourself. But it was the opposite; you were making peace with the cast, and when Gojo approached you, you weren’t fazed. It was almost as if you had expected it, preparing the answer to his question for weeks.

“I didn’t want to kiss you a ton of times and lose the magic; we can only do it once, and I want it to be the best.”

Gojo was stunned and wasn’t given that much time to recover, as the teacher started to count down when you had to be on stage.

“Do your best, okay?” You grinned at him before running to the edge of the curtain, waiting for your queue in the song.

Gojo swore he could hear the sounds of teenage boys growling behind him.

The very cliché plot of the play was the very reason Gojo had signed up in the first place: ‘the true love’s kiss’, that would fix everything.

And it was finally happening.

His breath hitched as he neared closer to you, and the song he had just been singing came to a close.

As you lay in the artificial bed of flowers and greenery, he took a deep breath in. You looked up at him with one eye, your eye glistening underneath the stage light. But nonetheless, a reassuring smile rested on your lips as you peeked up at him, his worries fled as he returned the smile, leaning in for the kiss happily. When he pulled away, just like in the story, you awoke, reciting the final lines of the play. On queue, the dark red curtains closed before you, the audience’s cheering and applause fading as you gave Gojo your most precious grin while his face started to flush an uncontrollable crimson.

Gojo still wasn’t able to confess his feelings after that night, but he had kissed you; that must mean something, right?

[marsbutterfly]

Final Mission - Remastered

Summary: The rumbling begins to close in on you and your friends. With very few choices remaining, you have to watch as Hanji makes a decision that will alter the course of your life forever.

a/n: hello hello!! So ever since part 3 part 1 came out, I decided to start working on rewriting my very first work, for Hanji and for Attack On Titan. This piece has always meant so much to me as it was written with lol sm grief? anyway, I know it's been a while but Hanji pls come back, the kids and I miss you babes.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: attack on titan season 4 part 3 (part 1) spoilers if you haven't watched it yet, angst, blood, established relationship, soulmate loss, a bit of resentment towards tbh everyone if you squint. | ao3 | wattpad | the original | wc: 3.3k

“You could break my heart in two

But when it heals, it beats for you”

“I’m the one who brought everyone here. I killed my comrades to come this far. I’ll take responsibility for it all,” Hanji says, her hands trembling while grasping the thunder spears firmly, eyes filled with terror while a shallow breath fights to leave her lungs. The ground shakes beneath you and a chilling sensation courses down your spine.

You finally find the courage to turn around to face her as she approaches the group, words dying and being reborn in your throat as you struggle to find just the right thing to say, eventually landing on the bleakest yet most desperate request, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Her footsteps are heavy, contrasting clearly with those of the colossal titans as they march towards you. Her vision is focused on the young, blonde boy ahead of you and you can tell she is trying with all her might to avoid your eyes, afraid of the reaction you might have.

“Armin Arlert,” her voice is gentle, gentler than it has been in a while, almost as if the heavy burden of the world inside the walls has finally lifted from her shoulders and she could actually think straight, “I hereby designate you the 15th Commander of the Scout Regiment.”

The remainder of the words exchanged between the two of them simply echoes in your brain, going from one ear to the other, almost as if they were speaking sheer gibberish. It doesn’t make sense, none of it does. Why is she making him commander when she is still standing right there? Hopefully not for the reasons you are expecting, right? Your thoughts move a thousand times faster than the actual conversation flows.

Your eyes are fixated on the scenery before you, a mixture of feelings coursing through your veins and your heart feels like it has been missing a few beats as an intense void begins to creep from deep inside of you. The situation is not ideal: the colossal titans get closer by the second, the atmosphere becomes hotter with their steam clouding the air and an overwhelming feeling of despair grows in your chest.

You focus on the sound of her voice, the same sound that has brought you so much comfort in the most trying of times now makes no sense, no matter how you look at it. Her face, which has always been your absolute favorite piece of art to ever exist, now contorted into a pained and saddened expression. In fact, it reminded of the way she looked when Erwin announced she would be taking over the Scouts in case he didn’t make it through Shiganshina.

You are finally pulled out of this trance once she begins to move again, this time towards Levi, confused and worrying eyes following her every move carefully as she moves across the brick bridge. From where you stand, you can see the black haired man tightening his left fist, the breeze hitting every so lightly, just barely enough for it to lift his hair and show you that he is sharing a quick glance with you before returning to Hanji.

“Hey, four-eyes,” he says. That’s the first time you have heard him call her those two words since she became commander. He had told you once before he did it out of respect, seeing that she was now his superior, so for him to say it now, in a moment like this, that is when the realization and truth of the moment finally began to dawn on you.

“You understand, right, Levi?” Her voice trembles in the slightest, in a manner that would be unnoticeable to anyone else but you and the man she is speaking to, “my turn has come at last.”

Hanji raises her hands, fingertips trembling and causing the thunder spears to shake, the sweat glistening on her face as her pupils twitch, it’s a sight you hoped to never see. She tries to play her nervousness off, “I’m giddy with the desire to make a supremely cool exit. Don’t stop what I’ve got going.”

For the first time, her eyes meet yours and you realize only then how many tears she was holding back, a quiet sob dying in your throat as you yelp, your body rejecting your brain’s commands to move, legs stuck in place and swallowing has never been this hard.

With a sigh, you hear those three words out of Levi’s mouth, the same words that are now only chanted by a ghost or a distant memory, “Dedicate your heart.” It feels like a punch to the stomach, air can no longer find its way inside your lungs and you choke on your own saliva, there is no denying what is about to happen anymore and the overwhelming sensation that there is nothing you can do to change it overwhelms you.

She smiles and lets out a gentle giggle, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that.”

Lastly, she makes her way towards you. The need for oxygen is intense but the very second that her gentle fingertips touch your face, the world seems to stop for a moment and every worry you have ever had dissipates into the feeling.

“I truly hope that you can forgive me one day,” she says and the tears that dangled from her eyes were finally allowed to fall. With a smirk on her lips, she blew on your face so that your hair would move from one spot to the other and the smell of her breath fills you with a sense of nostalgia and despair.

“Please don’t say that,” you whisper, bringing your body closer to hers, “you are the only family I have left. I don’t know where to go without you,” your voice trembles, your throat is as dry as the deserts you’ve heard Armin talk so much about. The tips of your fingers gently twirl a loose strand of hair that falls on her face.

Hanji turns her face at a precise 90 degree angle to look at Levi, a stoic expression on his face though his eyes tell you everything you need to know about his feelings. A tear runs down Hanji’s face, but only one as she won’t allow herself to fully break down until you are out of sight, “Will you take care of her for me?” He doesn’t respond with words, the only thing he does is nod his head in agreement.

Her eyes make their way back to you as she uses both of her hands to carefully cup your face, lips meeting yours with a desperation you had never seen before, almost as if she is trying to engrave you on her own body. Her tongue glides with yours for a couple of seconds and you feel the butterflies rising in your stomach as if it were the first time you have kissed her.

The moment couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds but it felt like forever and a day, your body nearly melting in contact with her touch. For a split moment, you forgot about the rumbling, about Eren, about the sacrifice she was about to make, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but this very moment the two of you share.

Everything feels ok for a little while, the warmth of her brown eyes reminds you of the many cups of tea you have shared in the barricades, the softness of her touch bringing up memories of times you’ve met under the apple tree in the courtyard, and the gentleness on her lips stirring butterflies in your stomach, much like the very first time you’d seen her.

However it does not last long. You are brought back to reality by the sound of her ODM gear going off, the hook gripping onto the wall and the cold feeling her lips leave behind. Hanji doesn’t give you enough time to stop her, she simply pulls away before you could even react.

She doesn’t say anything. In the years that passed since she became commander, Hanji had been preparing you for the inevitable moment when she passes away, when her turn to make a sacrifice to save your life would come. In that time, you let your guard down, you had convinced yourself something like that would never happen, not to the both of you.

Your eyes are fixated on her every move, every swing of her blade, every flicker of her cape, and there is nothing you can do. Frozen in place, you watch in horror as she manages to take down a few of the colossal titans on their path of destruction. It wasn’t enough. The engineers still need more time.

Trembling hands struggle to find a way onto your blades as a thought goes through your brain, “How can I help her?” By the time you manage to look back up, you catch a glance of a scene that could only be described as your worst nightmare: your beloved’s body, the person you’ve loved most for the past few years, catching on fire as a result of the bodily heat of the colossal titans.

Your heart sinks in your stomach and all you can do is scream. Your feet begin to move as you make up your mind to run and assist them but a pair of strong hands get a hold of your waist before you have time to move forward.

“Reiner, let me go,” you demand, in vain. No matter just how much you kick, or scream, or scratch him, his grip will not loosen and a sense of utter despair fills you. Your throat burns and your vision is blurred out by all the tears, your hands are shaking and there is nothing more you can do.

The last drop was the moment you caught a glimpse of her lifeless, burned to a crisp body falling from the sky like a meteor ready to destroy your life. You had no more fight left in you, no more strength remaining to try and free yourself from Reiner’s arms.

Something inside of your brain begins to slip away, was it your sanity? Or something more personal, like your spirit? No, this was a feeling you had encountered time and time again, expedition after expedition, titan kill after titan kill, hopelessness. Except this time, the feeling was a thousand times worse.

Without her, how would you be able to find Eren and stop the rumbling once and for all? Not only that, but for the first time, probably ever, you questioned her judgment, after all, how could Armin be commander? The boy who was chosen over Erwin, part of the reason why you found yourself in this situation in the first place.

No, there was no use in pointing fingers at each other. If in a situation like this, where life and death walked hand in hand, she chose him, then you would trust her judgment, even if you didn’t agree with it, even if you believed it to be the wrong choice.

Your eyelids grow heavier the closer you get to the plane, the tears have yet to stop running down your face and a full body spread of goosebumps has taken hold of your skin. You manage to take a deep breath before allowing your exhausted body to slip into unconsciousness and, for the last time, you hear her voice.

“I love you.”

The pounding sensation in your head is nearly too much to bear. You squint through closed eyes, slowly using whatever little strength you have left to raise your arm, shielding your face from the far too close sun rays. The atmosphere surrounding the area is so heavy you could cut it with a knife, but a determined Armin breaks free from the awkwardness. “Listen up,” he says, the confidence is his voice masking his true emotions, “Let’s go over the plan.”

Their voices are now a bit louder, the slight turbulence you come across every so often causes the plane to shake and every last bit of metal to scrape against one another. You can hear the sound of a pencil scribbling on the metal floor, but whether it is writing or drawing, you are unable to realize.

As the conversation goes by, your ears begin to ring and your mind can’t help but wonder how long it has been. You take your hand up to your chest, clutching tightly to the fabric that covers the area above your heart, it feels empty, like it has been broken in two and the pieces have been flung out into space.

Has it been seconds? Has it been days? No, while it feels like an eternity has passed, deep down you know that it has only been somewhere between fifteen to thirty minutes. Tears begin to pool up in your eyes once more, that emptiness eating away at your stomach while you choke down a desolate sob. You don’t want to draw attention towards yourself but yet somehow, you find yourself as the center of everyone’s concern.

For a while, no one dares to move, speak or even breathe. You can’t be bothered by their reactions or lack thereof, the pressure on your chest desperately needs to be released. The tears won’t stop flowing, air fails to enter your lungs as heavy hiccups erupt from deep within your soul. The void you feel could only be compared to a bottomless abyss, not knowing when it will end.

Once you have no more tears left, you try your best to use your arms to sit up, cursing yourself for being so weak in the face of such immediate danger. Footsteps approach you and a helping hand finds a comfortable spot on your lower back, gently assisting you in your attempt to sit. You don’t need to see the person’s face to know exactly who it is.

“Mikasa,” you say, not quite sure if it is a question or if anything else is going to follow.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, her voice is raspy and gentle, like she has been doing some crying of her own. You can’t help but smirk, not out of happiness, but because you know they all already have an idea of what your answer is going to be.

“It feels like my heart has just been ripped out of my chest and I had to watch as it burned,” you say and they all immediately understand that you are referring to the condition you were forced to leave Hanji’s body in. It is a stupid question but, for some reason, it does make the aching a tad bit more tolerable.

“Your hand is bleeding,” Armin points out in a serene voice as he walks towards you, his footsteps seem lighter than a feather in an attempt to not spook you away, as if you were a wild, injured little animal, “How did that happen?”

“I cut it,” You respond, dryly. Your lower lip quivers as you open your palm, revealing the smallest piece of green fabric. It is clear from the patter and the design that it came from one of the cloaks owned by the Survey Corps, no extra words are needed for all present to understand that it belonged to their fallen Commander. Though no one desires to talk about it, Reiner decides to take the fall.

“I may not have been so gentle when we were boarding the flying boat,” he says, using his left hand to scratch the back of his neck while the right one holds onto the rail above his head, “I’m sorry, y/n. I should have been more careful.”

You know what he is trying to do. It is clearly a lie and there is no denying any of it, but you appreciate his efforts to remove the attention from the sore subject. You purse your lips in what could be considered a small smile while quietly nodding your head.

“Would you mind if I took a look at it?” Armin asks, kneeling beside you while reaching his hand underneath your own. Perhaps he was right to treat you like a spooked animal, seeing as your immediate reaction was to move your hand far away from him, clinging onto the fabric for dear life as you push your body towards the back of the ship until you collide with the metal wall. “Please.” He begs.

“No,” you cower away, “This is the last part of me to have ever touched her. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, I can barely feel anything anymore.”

Once more he asks, “Please,” and you realize he isn't going to let the subject go. So before too much of your blood has a chance to soak the bit of cloth, you switch it towards your other hand, extending your injured arm until it touches the top of his thighs.

You whimper as a stream of clean water comes in contact with your open skin, dirt debris being washed away by the contents as best as possible. Your eyes never leave his face, the now 15th Commander of the Survey Corps taking care of you, your heart gets heavier the more you think of him in such a manner. His shoulders are slumped forward, as if there is a “not so fictional” weight on them. It doesn’t take long before he is finished bandaging you up.

“I am fully aware it is not the same but,” a masculine voice comes from the front half of the ship, “you still have us.”

Your eyes now meet Levi, whose crossed arms and stern face somehow brings you the slightest amount of comfort. With a helping hand from Connie, you make your way towards him, gently placing yourself between Pieck and the black-haired man, who ever so gently places a comforting hand behind your back. It is rare for him to demonstrate any sort of affection, so by the way his fingers feel against your clothes, you can nearly feel his own grief. Another lump forms in your throat, but you swallowed it this time.

“We’ll make sure that Hanji’s death wasn’t in vain,” Mikasa swears, false determination taking over her words, “We’ll return Eren into his old self, I know he is still in there somewhere, just waiting for us.”

Any sort of emotion gets drained from your face as you stare deep into her eyes, gray orbs looking deeply at you in hopes of any approval of her message. You raise your chin as you cross your legs, bringing your body forward, closer to her. You don’t want to be mean, nor do you want to make her feel like her attempt at comforting you fell into deaf ears, but all present right now know that what she has said is bullshit. 

“Mikasa,” your voice is stern, “do you remember what Annie asked you once in the forest and then again after we attempted to communicate with Floch?” She doesn’t respond but, by the expression on her face, you realize that she knows exactly what you are talking about. With no indication that she plans on acknowledging the subject, you continue, “She asked you if you would ever be able to kill Eren.”

She looks away, gripping her knees tightly. “That won’t be necessary!” Armin says, the nervousness in his voice is palpable as he desperately tries to change the subject while still hoping to provide you with the comfort he knows you need at this moment.

You sigh before continuing, “I know you want to bring him back. I may know that better than anyone else at the moment. But I need you to listen closely as I tell you this,” Your voice is louder than the engines, the tears begin pooling in your eyes once more, you bring the small piece of Hanji’s cloak towards your chest, a determined expression on your face, “There is no bringing him back at this point. He has gone too far. Even if you did bring him back, the remaining world population would kill him with their bare hands.”

“Why are you saying all of this?” Someone asks, though your mind has become nothing but fog so you can’t quite tell whose voice it is at the moment. You take a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill your burning lungs.

“Because no matter what you all say,” any emotion is drained from your voice, “my final mission is to kill Eren Yeager.”

“If I could do it all again

I know I'd go back to you”

[m-jelly]

I love your fics omg. Could you maybe do a part 2 to your fic where Levi finds reader in the underground? Like where he brings reader back to the scouts and everybody is stunned to see Levi holding hands with someone in general but it's an even greater shock because the reader's front is covered in mud and looks like they haven't showerd in a few days (this is the underground we're talking about lol) and then then eren and armin start doing the awkward "So uhh... who's your friend?" and plot twist Levi pulls out the "That's my wife dumbass" line, since they're married but Levi kept her hidden to keep her safe. Please delete this if you don't feel like writing this, and have a nice rest of your day 🌸

@kenkopanda-art <3

With you again: Part 2

Levi x fem!Reader

Canon world, fluff, romance, reuniting, together again, hugs, kisses, tears, Levi being sweet, married.

Levi takes you back to the base and everyone is curious about who you are. After having a bath together, Levi gives you a tour and people ask who you are and Levi declares your marriage.

Note: I reread the request and realised I messed up in the oneshot. I got everyone to meet the reader after she's cleaned up and not before, sorry!

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

Part 1

The hot water massaged your aching muscles. It'd been so long since you'd been this relaxed and safe. Tears stung your eyes as you felt overwhelming relief that you had found Levi again and now you were going to be with him, forever.

The sponge moved up and down your body gently. Levi was so delicate with his touch as if any moment you might break. A few scars on your body caught his attention. Every inch of your body was well known to Levi, but he didn't know those scars.

Veins popped on his fist when he clenched it tightly, water from the sponge trickled and oozed. "How did you get those scars?"

It was embarrassing to confess the truth, but you knew you couldn't lie to the man you loved. "After you left, there was some food to keep me going. You said you'd come back, but you didn't." You welled up. "I waited and I was so hungry. I had to survive. I had to steal and I got caught sometimes."

Levi dropped the sponge in the water and wrapped his arms around you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took so long to get to you."

You clung to Levi and sobbed a little. "It's okay. I knew you'd come back."

"I did. I asked Erwin to look for you." He pulled back and smiled. "I was a month over the promised time, but I made it."

You nodded and kissed Levi. "You did."

He lightly caressed your cheek. "Let's get you dressed, fed and take you on a tour."

You grinned at him. "Great!"

It touched your heart to see Levi had a few clothes prepared for you already. All the clothes were comfy and perfect. Levi always loved dressing you up in pretty things and now he had a great wage, he could get you everything he dreamed of. It was time for him to spoil you rotten.

Levi pulled you along to his desk. "I have something for you." He opened the side drawer and revealed two rings. "Proper wedding rings. We can wear them with the special woven thread ones you made."

You offered your hand as you softly giggled. "Thank you."

Heart filled with love and bodies tingled when the two of you kissed over and over again. Levi released you and kissed your cheek. "Let's get you some food."

You felt your cheeks burn when his fingers entwined with yours. "This place is so cosy and warm."

"Compared to what we've had before, it is wonderful." He released a long sigh. "Very dusty though."

You smiled a little. "Well, you're excellent at cleaning so I know you'll find a way." You giggled. "I love the cravat by the way."

He pouted a little. "Well, you said it would look good so I gave it a go."

"Handsome."

He hummed a laugh causing those he walked past to be in utter shock. He moved past Eren and Armin in the mess hall and grabbed some food for you. "Here brat."

"Thank you!"

Eren walked over to his Captain. "So uhh... who's your friend?"

"That's my wife dumbass." He stormed over to you and yanked you close. "Come on beautiful. Time to eat and sleep."

Eren's jaw dropped. "The Captain is married?"

Armin ruffled his hair. "She's pretty."

[happybird16]

Me, every time we get new official art

👀👀

👀👀

[annawayne]

I see that you're Ukrainian and I saw two arts with Ukrainian culture. Is there some meanings behind it, references? Could you please tell more? I love seeing artist drawing their culture. It's amazing

OH, anon! You have no idea how it made me happy to know you're curious about my country. And yes, there's a lot to tell, so thank you so much for asking!

I'll try to keep it as short as possible and not turn it into the lecture, so here we go!

So, I have two arts, featuring Ukrainian culture

So, all the jewelry here is traditional Ukrainian jewelry, and not just random. Important note: all Ukrainian culture is about the beauty of layers, in clothes, jewelry, literature, in art.

For example, this one from the left art is called dukach - a medallion, which is supplemented with additional jewelry elements, such as ribbons, bows etc. Annie wears a lion medallion, of course, as a reference to her surname.

Another element, under the dukach, the necklace with the half moons, is called zgrada. The base consists of crosses in two or three rows strung on a string or a dart, in the spaces between them there are tubes or spirals made of brass or copper. Well, the truth is that zgrada can be not only with crosses but also with other elements. Here are half moons that are a reference to another Ukrainian piece of jewelry, lunnitsa. It's a talisman ornament in the form of a crescent with the tips down. Lunnitsa was called to ensure the continuation of the family, it was endowed with the properties of a family talisman, capable of harmonizing the relationship of spouses. It was also believed that the talisman promotes restful sleep, drives away nightmares, and protects the owner from nighttime evil spirits.

Finally, the red necklace that we call namysto. The more layers of necklaces a woman had, the wealthier she was considered. Here Annie wears 10 (!) strings of the namysto, and it's not just a "cheap" gem, it's corals!

Now, about earrings!

Both Armin and Annie wear earrings, and it's the usual shape of the Ukrainian traditional earrings, but we have a small interesting detail here with Armin.

Actually, in both arts Armin is a Cossack - the Ukrainian warrior, who decided against all odds to fight for the independence of Ukraine. All of them were struggling in slavery (not really the "usual" form of slavery but more military like) and under other countries' protectorate, but if we put it VERY simply, they were fed up and started fighting for Ukraine and the freedom of their homeland. That's why they are usually called "people of a free spirit".

And Armin wears earrings in both of his ears and in Cossack culture - it's also the symbol of his status. So, if the Cossask wears it on his left ear - indicates that the Cossack was the only son of his mother; on the right — signals that the man is the last representative of his family; both have a sign that the Cossack is the only child of his parents. So, yeah! Only child Armin!

About the embroidery!

Each region of Ukraine has various embroidery techniques, starting from the color of the threads used and to the ornaments/motifs the shirt is adorned. Both Armin and Annie wear floral and geometry ornaments that are widely used in the central-north part of Ukraine such as the Poltava and Chernihiv regions. But also you can find similar ornaments in Kharkiv, Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, but all of them differ in colors and shapes.

Now, Annie's flower crown or wreath that we call vinok.

Usually, vinok is worn by girls and unmarried women, sometimes, even after marriage, women wear it, accompanied by a head shawl or kerchief. Flowers here aren't also random, but each of them symbolizes something: malva and peony - beauty, hope, the long lives and symbol of home, of Homeland; centaurea - simple and quiet life.

And ending it all, just want to add that the left art with the ornaments in the background - it's an imitation of one of the traditional Ukrainian ornaments that is widely used for the decoration of walls, plates, cups etc; and for the second one - Ukraine has a lot of sunflower fields, so that's landscape is very dear for me.

Thank you once again for asking, and I hope it was interesting!

[rorynni]

i know boy parents aruani is somewhat controversial in the fandom right now BUT HEAR ME OUT ON LONG HAIR ARUANI SON PLS

also some headcanons:

- He learned to walk and run really early (Annie’s genes) so the toddler phase was really fun. Annie could handle him easily but he probably outran his dad so many times that it left Armin questioning his eight years of being a trained soldier.

- The kid knew how to read by age four (Armin insists that this isn’t that extraordinary but he probably also learned to read at like three years old).

- He didn’t get a first haircut until he was three, and by the time he was two his hair was shoulder length. Annie put it in a little ponytail a couple times and it just stuck.

- Since Armin was very feminine as a kid and got a lot of shit for it growing up, he was a little reluctant about leaving their son’s hair long and probably initially wanted him to get it cut shorter. He decided it was okay since it was tied up and no one really mistook him for a girl.

- Annie was reluctant to teach their child martial arts, since she didn’t want to feel like she was forcing it on him like her father did to her. After being begged approximately 7283 times, she started giving him age appropriate lessons and teaching her technique in a healthy way.

- He’s taller than both his parents by the time he’s sixteen (much to Armin’s dismay).

- Armin really wanted him to share his interest in the ocean but instead he’s really fascinated by outer space.

- Much like Annie, he tends to be quiet and keeps to himself.

- Aunt Mikasa is his favourite.

- Jean, Connie, Reiner and Pieck are very betrayed by this fact.

i might add more later

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 📖 ꒱ BOOKSTORE BOY

Armin x fem!reader

Chapter index / Chapter Ⅵ

Overview; Armin asks you on a date to the art gallery. Well, actually, he needed the help of an old best friend to make that happen.

Content; fluff, slight angst between Eren x Armin

DM in my askbox to be added to taglists! 💕

For Armin to ask you out from himself he needed an immense surge of courage. Usually he derived that from a pep talk with Connie, but he was on vacation in a foreign country.

So...

"Okay, Eren, you're Y/n and I'm... well, me. Okay? I'll ask you out and you try respond how she would." Armin instructed his friend carefully.

Eren was leaning nonchalantly against the bookshelves. "I don't know a damn thing about this girl, and you want me to imagine how she would respond?"

"Come on, just help me out here." Armin whined. "Please?"

Eren gave an exasperated grunt and reluctantly played along with him. Armin thought it was depressingly funny, how once their souls were intertwined with one another, but disconnected at one of life's unexpected crossroads.

They used to be best friends.

"Y/n, um, so th-there's this art gallery – you've probably been there before, but they've renovated it recently and – and I was thinking – if you're free – " Armin rambled.

Eren interrupted, "Get to the point." he snapped.

"Hey, Y/n wouldn't snap at me like that! She's a patient listener."

"Well I'm not." Eren said bitingly.

Armin tilted his head at the brunette sadly. Eren thinned out his lips regretfully.

"Sorry." he said earnestly.

Armin heaved a sigh to alleviate his chest. He tugged off his white knitted scarf and threw it down, taking a seat on the stack of books. His hand glided through his golden hair, then he rubbed his face, like he was trying to rub the tension out. But the tension was in the atmosphere, not inside him.

"We haven't seen each other in ages, you know." Armin said quietly.

Eren lowered his head in shame and refused to look at him.

A dim midday light filtered in through the bookstore's half-closed shutters.

Armin sat. Eren stood. Armin talked. Eren listened. All the while life and the sound of lunchtime traffic rattled the windows from outside.

It just wasn't like how it used to be between them. Why? Armin had spent countless nights trying to figure out why they drifted apart.

"You were the one that stopped calling me." Eren pointed out.

"Because I don't like using phones." Armin said, folding his arms defensively.

"That's not a good enough excuse." Eren looked at him. If anyone's eyes could rival Armin's in terms of intensity, it was Eren's.

Armin nibbled his lip and nearly cried. "Well, you also moved far away." he stated bitterly.

Such a simple statement upset the whole atmosphere in the vacant bookstore. Armin looked away tearfully, blurred vision catching the CLOSED sign dangling and swaying clumsily in the window outside the front door.

"I wanted to start my life, can you blame me for that?" Eren reasoned defensively. Though he was usually harsh, he tiptoed around Armin's emotions when he saw tears pricking his pretty eyes.

Armin considered his response.

After a short silence, he croaked with a quiet, subtly shaky voice; "No, I can't blame you for that. But I can still be upset by it. I missed you... God, Eren, I had nothing to do here after you left. I was so god damn sad. And then she — like some miracle — walked into my life and changed that. So the least you could do is help me out here... because she means a lot to me."

Eren was looking at the ground while he listened. A stiff silence engulfed the two boys.

"Okay. I've got a plan. I'll make this art gallery date happen for you."

"Thank you." Armin smiled at him. "Really, thank you."

"...since you're too much of a wimp to do it yourself." Eren muttered teasingly under his breath.

"Hey!" Armin giggled a little.

They had a brief moment of banter and teasing. It felt like old times, if only for a fleeting two minutes.

Everything ceased when there was a person tapping at the window of the store's front door.

Peering in from the other side was none other than you, the one who happened to be the sole subject of conversation for the whole morning and early noon.

"Is that her?" Eren quickly asked under his breath as Armin bounced quickly past the cashier desk to the entrance.

It was a stupid question. Of course it was you, because Armin's eyes lit up like a light show.

"Yeah, that's her." Armin smiled at you through the glass pane, and came to open the door.

He wrung it open, the bell chimed, and his face brightened at your presence. That pleasant feeling of seeing the one you love engulfed him from all angles.

You hugged him with a gentle squeeze, and so did he. "How are you! Why is the store open so late? It feels odd." you asked.

Armin's throat stuttered and staggered a small bit before replying, "My grandfather is sick at home, so I'm running the ship for a while."

"And that means the store will open when you've had the appropriate amount of coffees?" Eren mused.

His deep, smooth voice caught your ears. It was just a really good voice, no one can be blamed for being infatuated with it.

"Right." Armin nodded.

His eyes flitted between you and his old best friend. "Uh, Eren, this is Y/n, and Y/n... Eren." he introduced the two of you.

"Oh, that name sounds familiar." you commented.

Eren looked at you in surprise, "Does it?"

"Yeah, I think Armin mentioned you a few times in conversation, but I have bad memory..." you said embarrassedly.

"We grew up together." Eren said simply.

"Oh! That's right, now I remember."

Armin felt a strong jealousy bubbling inside his chest.

It grew and grew, like sharp vines under his chest. It grew stronger the longer you and Eren talked, because honestly? You two hit it off. And in the most peculiar way. Neither you nor Eren felt attraction towards each other, but Armin was convinced that there was a special feeling between you and him.

"I've got to head out." Eren said after the conversation tapered off, preparing to leave the store.

"Oh, where are you headed?" you asked him curiously.

He placed his hand on the doorframe and then, as he spoke his next words, made everything up on the spot.

"Actually... to the art gallery," he looked at Armin, "with my girlfriend – you two wanna make it a double date?" he invited.

You thought that was so friendly of him.

"Absolutely! I'd love to see the art gallery..." you responded enthusiastically. "Of course, but only if Armin is willing. Armin?" you turned to face him.

Armin's jealousy dissipated, a feeling of fondness and thankfulness replaced it.

"I'm willing." he mumbled shyly.

"Why the art gallery?" Eren's girlfriend questioned confusedly, romantically clinging to his arm. "I thought we were going to the countryside? A picnic would have been good... this is a rare sunny day."

They observed an oil painting on the white wall.

"Because Armin wanted to take that girl on a date, but he was too shy to ask her himself." Eren explained in a hushed voice under his breath.

"I didn't know you were cupid." Mikasa teased. Eren shook his head.

You marveled around you.

Something in the atmosphere felt magical. For a long time, you and Armin wandered the corridors alone together, in utter silence. No words were necessary. Especially not when they'd disturb the beauty of the silent paintings staring down at you.

He had no idea how it happened, but he ended up holding your hand. His skin felt soft, a little cool to the touch — your warmth made him fluttery.

You stood in front of a painting with him, admiring it as if through a dream lens.

"I've never been to an art gallery before." you told him.

"Really?"

"I planned to visit this one when I first arrived here, but never seemed to make time for it. You know how it is." you said. "But this is nice." you showed him a pretty smile.

Like so many times before, it seemed like Armin was going to say something. Something big; important, emotional – something that required a lot of courage to say.

"Do you want gelato?" he blurted out. "I'll go get some."

"I – uh, yes, sure." you agreed a bit confusedly. "Gelato sounds lovely."

So Armin disappeared down the corridor and Mikasa too, but she went to the restroom to refresh herself.

You went over to where Eren stood so you wouldn't seem like you were rudely ignoring him, when he so kindly invited you to a double date.

He was observing an oil painting depicting cupid. Something about it really had his attention and you didn't know why. He seemed amused. But you couldn't be sure, because his expressions were enigmatic. Reading them was like reading a foreign language that you only know two words of.

You held small talk with him, until he said something that steered the two of you into a meaningful conversation.

"Actually, Armin wanted to ask you out to the art gallery himself. I didn't even plan to come here today." he admitted.

You gasped on purpose, "You're exposing your best friend like this!"

"We're not best friends anymore." he said.

You dropped your playful attitude a bit, "What happened?" you asked curiously.

"Nothing, just life." Eren shrugged.

And though that was the truth when cut short, you could tell there was a long story behind it. He didn't elaborate, because it would make him get emotional. And you'd anyways have to sit through the first ten chapters of his and Armin's upbringings to understand it in its fullness.

"Oh, I see..." you said.

The conversation trailed off for a moment.

"It took Armin a long time to ask me out." you said. "I visited the bookstore an uncountable amount of times before he finally said hello to me." you laughed reminiscently, "was he always a nervous boy?" you asked Eren curiously.

"Sort of." Eren replied bluntly.

"Sort of? Could you elaborate?" you laughed.

"He's always been doubtful of himself. That's why he's never had a romance before, he never let himself fall in love, because he deemed himself unworthy of having a lover. And, I guess, inadequate to be a lover himself."

You looked at the brunette, he stood tall and straight, still looking at the painting. Past him you caught sight of your favorite blond as he approached the two of you.

Such a cute and soft boy. So gentle and sincere. Anyone can understand those traits about him from a mile away. It's the way he styles his hair. It's the cream-colored cutoff sweater over his white shirt. It's his way of walking. The slight blush that never leaves his face.

"It makes me sad when I learn these things about good-hearted people." you said, "If anyone in this world deserves love, it's Armin."

Eren looked at you contemplatively for a moment. He was thinking about the inflection you used when you said Armin's name. "Sounds like you're in love." he remarked observantly.

"Huh?" you blinked at him. His comment made your cheeks heat up very quickly.

Armin reunited with you and Eren, two hands holding cups of gelato. He had such an awkward yet elegant charm, it was hard to describe. But not even a poet could have described him.

He handed you and Eren gelatos, and talked about how he nearly tripped and dropped them on the stones outside on his way back. In the back of your mind, you were thinking about what Eren had told you.

Viewing Armin there in the art gallery felt dreamy, he had such warmth radiating all around him.

Mikasa returned from the bathroom and held onto Eren tiredly, refusing the gelato at first but nibbling from his cup eventually, and she gradually finished it herself while Eren held it like a cute boyfriend.

Armin was observing how they behaved as a couple. He thought about how badly he wanted to be that close to you, but you and him still had a ways to go.

"We'll get going in a little bit." Eren said.

"Aw, okay." Armin replied. "This was nice. Thanks for inviting us to join..."

"Of course." Eren bobbed his head noddingly, a stray strand of hair slipping out of his sloppy manbun. "We should... do something together sometime again. Just you and me. No offence, ladies."

"None taken." you chuckled.

Armin felt as light as air. Everything that once made him feel heavy in the past was becoming the reason for his weightlessness.

You and Armin still planned to stay at the art gallery a little longer. As Armin said, "The paintings have a demanding beauty, we have to look at them one more time."

While Eren and Mikasa were leaving, you accidentally called Armin Loverboy in front of them.

Eren looked teasingly at Armin. "Loverboy?" he questioned with raised brows, a smirk

Armin went pink in the face, oh, really pink. It was especially noticeable because of the palette of his appearance; the white and soft brown of his clothes, the honey blond of his hair, the ocean blue of his eyes.

"You embarrassed meee!"

"Sorry... Loverboy."

He giggled. You perched yourself on the bench in the middle of the wide corridor, stretching your arms out to balance as you walked along it.

White walls displayed a stretch of impossibly beautiful artworks, contrasting to the antique heartpine flooring.

A statue of Aphrodite stood at the end of the T-junction corridor, posed with ethereal beauty; she almost felt alive. You half-expected her to start running the comb through her hair.

But the only living souls in the art gallery were you and Armin; intertwined completely, undisturbed in an envelope of your love.

When you and him stopped to admire the statue, it felt as if the goddess of love was smiling down at the two of you, uttering wordless blessings upon your romance.

"Hey, dance with me, Loverboy." you said, encouragingly tugging the fabric of his sleeve.

He looked at you like he's never looked at anyone in his life, with eyes blazing like the stars in Van Gogh's masterpiece.

"C'mon."

You offered your hands to him. He timidly took them.

And so there you and him were, haphazardly dancing down the corridors of an empty art gallery during closing hours.

Giggling, stumbling, twirling, talking, exchanging an intimacy —a connection — that can't be described, only felt or imagined by the most imaginative mind.

At the closing of the day, while you and him were waiting on the bench at the bus stop, Armin leaned over and scribbled a poem on a napkin.

Though you kept naggingly asking him what the poem was about, he blushed and refused to say.

"Have patience, love." he said, and kept writing.

You loved watching him writing. He was so simply beautiful when he was in his element. Scratching lines out, rewriting them, contemplatively pausing; you observed him like an artwork.

"But the bus is here." you said when you heard it rounding the corner.

Armin's blue eyes blinked up at the approaching bus. The brakes sighed as it came to a rolling stop, the navy blue color inspiring the final words of Armin's poem.

"Alright." Armin hopped to his feet very suddenly.

He looked so happy. No, he radiated happiness.

"So eager to leave me!" you teased him.

He smiled at you and gave you the napkin with his poem.

"Read it when you get home; I don't want to be embarrassed in front of you right now." he half-joked.

"Okay." you replied in a soft voice. "When... when will we see each other again? I mean, besides at the store."

Armin's heart beat faster.

"We... could..." he began.

He was trying, he really was. The courage was building up inside him, though it faltered and he closed his mouth again.

"We could...?" you encouraged.

"Gimme the napkin back for a moment, please." he said, and took it to write something more on the back of it.

You looked at him curiously.

There was a long moment of silence that was filled with... well, love. Just love. A very pure and sincere love, the type that isn't fully acknowledged yet, and so isn't affected by the expectations of either lover.

"There – ah, the driver is looking impatient." Armin said hurriedly and handed the napkin back to you.

You shared a shy, departing hug with him.

As he boarded the bus, he placed his hand on the bus door frame, and looked back at you.

"Bye." he said.

"Bye, see you." you smiled.

"Mmm, yes." he said and looked at you. "Bye." he said again.

"Goodbye." you giggled.

He just couldn't go.

It was one of those never-ending goodbyes, because neither you nor him really wanted to be apart.

You watched from outside as he weaved through the crowded bus and took a seat.

He waved at you through the window.

The bus rolled back into motion and headed down the street before finally rounding the corner and disappearing.

You walked back to your apartment by foot.

Every movement you made, from sticking the key into your apartment door to pouring a fresh coffee, was done with a dreamy languidness.

When you finally settled down into bed with your beverage, you looked over at your pillow, and thought of when Armin was sat there reading at your side you not long ago. The memory made you smile.

Now alone, you read his letter.

After your eyes reread each line three times over, you wished you could text him. But that boy really didn't like phones, he always lost his own, and never read any messages from anyone. Who knew where his phone was right now, probably besides the pot plant in his grandfather's back garden.

In the art gallery, you experienced his wordless love. At home, you read the words that attempted to summarize his feelings.

The way I feel with you,

Is comparable to,

The navy blue of,

The sparkling sea I saw long ago.

On the back, there was his additional note. It was scribbled very hastily.

Spring is close, why don't we have a picnic by the lake? I know the trail to take =)

🏷️; @sad-darksoul / @ringsofsaturnnnn / @underthetree845 / @oliviaissocool1 / @crisalidaseason / @koriinsan

[kzlove]

OH MY GOD CONNIES SISTER GOT IT GOIN ON😍😍 WE NEED A PART 2🙈🙈🙈

french girl

continuation of connie's sister's got it goin' on

jean takes your night invitation and uses it wisely

warnings : smut, fingering, squirting, light mention of overstim, nude art, marking, not proofread.

note : chill im onnat rn. first smut n it's w JEAN???

-

after jean had eaten dinner with connie, the two of them had gone back to his room and played 2k for the rest of the night.

connie was nice enough to fill the full sized air mattress for him, resting it next to his own bed.

when they were over 2k, they decided to get on valorant with eren and armin.

eventually, connie called it a night and went to sleep.

so did the other two, quietly teasing jean about his little problem earlier and connie's sister.

when time came around, jean quietly shuffled his way into the hallway and stood outside of your door.

were you sleeping? or were you playing with his feelings earlier?

would he look like a fool? what would he even say when he knocked?

jean took a deep inhale, taking his chances and knocking at the door.

he waited patiently for a few seconds, fully believing that you were already in your fifth dream.

he and connie did stay up pretty late.

all thoughts left his mind when you opened the door in a fluffly white towel.

"niña i thought i told you go to- jean." you said in surprise, a warm smile gracing your face.

he wanted to kiss you so bad.

jean nodded, giving you a short smile as he tried to keep his eyes on yours.

"wanted to uhm.. take you up on that offer." jean explained quietly, finally letting his eyes roam down to your towel.

you grinned, before opening your door wider to let his bigger frame into your room.

it was just as he expected. pretty in pink and white.

the led lights were dimmed on a pale pink, giving everything a gorgeous hue.

you had a swing seat not too far from your bed, and a vanity with a gorgeous arm chair.

"i like your room." jean complimented, picking up the sketch book you had sitting on the table.

you never responded, making him turn to see what you were doing.

and jean's eyes widened.

you had dropped your towel and stood there, waiting for him to notice you.

jean took this opportunity to walk up to you, grab on your love handles lightly.

you hummed quietly, wrapping your arms around his neck while you leaned in slowly.

"where do you want me?" you asked, licking your lips as you looked into his eyes.

jean held onto you while taking a quick look around the room.

as much as he'd want to have you on your bed, he felt like the swing chair was good enough for his imagination.

and it also meant you wouldn't have to change your sheets when he was finished with you.

"the swing chair." jean whispered, grabbing a handful of your ass with a small grin.

you squealed lightly, before letting him help you onto the seat.

and the position he puts you in just happens to be one of your favorites.

he has you lay with your head on a throw pillow, face mushed into it partially.

you held a beautiful arch, sticking your ass up in the air.

the breeze on your cunt had you giggling. open access.

jean stood over you a bit longer, stroking your ass slowly while teasing your hole slightly.

before you could properly enjoy it, jean walked away from you.

leaving you anticipating his touch once more.

you watch as he drags your armchair over in front of you, sitting in it with the sketch book and pencil.

"are you comfortable? will you be able to keep that position for me baby?" jean asked, looking up at you.

you nod, smiling at him. you'd do it just for him.

and so, jean got to work immediately.

you watched the entire time as he drew you, not missing the growing hard on he had in his pants.

you grinned, resisting the urge to reach out and grab it right now.

"what are you smiling at?" jean chuckled, looking up at you.

you giggled lightly, the globes of your ass moving with your chest.

"mm.. nothing." you replied, pursing your lips at him and making kissing noises.

eventually, he finished up and slid the book in front of you.

he got the arch of your back perfectly, even going as far as to get your face the same.

your false lashes and all.

you couldn't focus on it for too long though, because jean made his way behind you immediately.

he began massaging your ass, kneading the skin with his big hands slowly.

you looked at him from behind your lashes. "how can i pay you, pretty boy?" you questioned lowly.

-

having a soundproof room came in handy when living with the springers.

when you wanted to stay up as late as you wanted playing music, watching movies as loud as you want, or talking to a few friends and laughing about silly jokes.

but this? might just take the cake.

"mmmh right there!" you cried out, gripping onto jean's hand.

he sat you in his lap in front of your full body mirror, one hand on your throat and the other between your legs.

jean had two thick fingers inside of you, and was stabbing them straight into your sweet spot.

he'd been at it for a while, having you cream on his fingers twice now.

"yeah? you like that?" jean groaned huskily into your ear, sucking on the side of your neck.

you whined, arching your back and attempting to close your thighs around his hand.

jean let go of your throat and forced your legs open, looking at you through the mirror.

"hold em open for me mama. you know i gotchu." jean cooed, pressing honey flavored kisses to your skin.

and you listen to him, beginning to buck your hips into your hand as you cried out even more.

"m'gonna cum again.." you gasp out, grabbing onto jean's bicep as you knocked your head back onto his shoulder.

jean sped his fingers up while rubbing tight circles on your clit with his palm and your brain instantly turned into mush.

you could barely hear anything, save for the wet sounds of your pussy echoing throughout the room and jean's heavy sighs.

it was almost like he was enjoying it more than you were.

you gasped loudly, before biting into jean's neck as you squirted all over his hand and your mirror.

jean let out a groan, watching as your pussy gushed all over the floor and his hand.

"good girl~" jean cooed, coaxing you with soft praises as you released.

he pulled his fingers out slowly, watching as you caught your breath while running your hand up and down his arm.

when you let out a breathy 'whew' and sat up, jean smiled at you through the mirror.

"good?" jean questioned, wiping the excess of your release onto your towel.

you nodded, turning over to him with a big hazy smile.

"now.. think you can do that on my cock?"

-

the next morning, connie walked downstairs and seen jean sitting in the kitchen with you.

"good morning bitches!" connie said, immediately shoving you for absolutely no reason.

you sucked your teeth and shoved him back, watching him slide across the floor.

jean was busy in the kitchen, fixing the fan that you were complaining about so he hadn't noticed connie.

"golly! what the fuck happened to your neck?" connie asked, leaning down to shove jean's head to the side.

jean froze up, almost forgetting that you were sucking something serious into his neck.

he touched his neck quickly, hiding the hickey in shame.

"he went out in the back last night and didn't light the candle. mosquitos had a field day." you chuckled, covering for him.

connie whipped around to look at his older sister confused.

while connie's attention was on you, jean began thanking you silently.

he was about to fumble the bag so hard, he knew connie would never speak to him again.

"yeah? and how do you know?" connie questioned, raising his eyebrow.

either connie's suspicious, or he already knows.

you looked away from the stove that had four pancakes on the wide pan, glaring at him.

"because i went out there to smoke. what's your issue?" you scoffed, raising your eyebrow.

connie stayed silent, before shaking his head and laughing. "nothing. i'm just messing." connie said.

he made his way into the living room, snagging the controller from his little brother and playing the game.

jean exhaled and looked at you, who was holding your chest.

"that was so close." you sighed out quietly, smiling at jean.

jean nodded, before standing up and placing the box fan where it originally was.

he turned the knob and like clockwork, the fan began blowing cool air like it was brand new.

you immediately felt the breeze and looked over to jean with another big smile.

"thank you so much for fixing it jean. connie is just so unreliable." you complained, wrapping your arms around him to give him a hug.

jean recipocrated the hug, rubbing the small of your bag. "no problem." jean said.

before jean could let go, you pulled him closer and whispered softly into his ear.

"let me know when you want another reward, okay?"

-

bonus :

after breakfast, jean took his shower and headed back to his cozy apartment building.

as much as he loved the springers (especially you), their energy could get pretty overwhelming sometimes.

when he arrived, he received four messages.

[12:23pm] egghead : u forgot ur applewatch [12:24pm] egghead : also, ik u fked my sister, not mad [12:24pm] egghead : js disappointed. but at least it's not mikasa ur lustin ova n e mo [12:26pm] egghead : here's her number ***-***-****

-

[cosmicjoke]

I just wanted to say one more time how incredible, not just this final episode of Attack on Titan was, but the previous special, and truly, all of MAPPA's fourth season. The weight with which they handled this story, the seriousness with which they treated it, shows in every frame, in every moment. The voice work from the actors is second to none, and helped bring these characters to life with incredible emotion and complexity. The animators, being overworked and underpaid, put their hearts and souls into this, you can tell, as did the writers and directors. I really can't thank everyone enough.

They captured the drama and seriousness of this story to such perfection, as did WIT when it was the studio behind this show, and together, they've created what, I again say, is the greatest show of all time, bringing one of the greatest stories of all time miraculously to life.

They never handled the material with anything less than the respect it always deserved. One isn't watching a cartoon when they watch this show. One is watching a piece of dramatic cinema worthy of any award celebrating the craft. I really do mean that.

I felt that especially culminated with these final two episodes, which felt more like a genuine event, a cultural moment unfolding before us, than a simple episode of a tv show. These final two specials felt momentous and grand and epic in their scale and scope, and in the emotions they conveyed and the messages they imparted. Attack on Titan is a serious piece of art. Both the manga and the anime. It's a culturally important, and significant piece of culture.

I've come to care so deeply for all of these characters, to regard them as so much a part of my life, that their pain became my pain, their happiness became my happiness, their grief and sense of loss was also in my heart. Watching Armin and Eren speak to each other one last time, watching Mikasa and Eren, watching them hug, and then after, watching them cry and scream at the grief of losing him, all of that was like experiencing a real life friend go through all the same. Watching Jean's and Connie's courage and stubbornness, watching Pieck and Annie and Reiner put aside their differences to work with everyone for the right thing, watching Levi giving every last ounce of what he had left to fight alongside all of them and save humanity, all of it has left an indelible mark on me that I won't ever forget. These characters have become real to me. I care about them like I would a real person. Their story became real to me. When Armin says at the end, people will want to know our story, they'll want to know what we saw, that's real to me. Their struggle, their suffering, their loses, their lives, it's real to me. It means as much to me as any, real life story of heroism, because it's such a realistic reflection of our condition as human beings. It can relate to all of our lives, all of our struggles, all of our grief and loss and hope.

So, thank you MAPPA, and thank you Hajime Isayayam, and thank you Eren and Mikasa and Armin, thank you Levi and Hange and Erwin, thank you Jean and Connie and Sasha, thank you Reiner and Annie and Pieck. Thank you all of you, for bringing so much of worth into our lives. Your story has the power to change the world for the better, to change people for the better, and nothing is worth more than that.

[corner-stories]

A Crash Course in Curve Lifts

Armin Arlert. Annie Leonhardt. Jean Kirschtein. Ice Dance Lifts. Coaching. Eros and Psyche on Ice. Figure Skating AU. 2023 words. (ao3.)

While Armin didn’t do ice dance or pairs, he had performed enough shows to know his way around other skaters. He had several memories skating alongside Eren in galas, working hard to coordinate the take-off and landings of their jumps, ensuring that every instance of their synchronized quadruple toe loops were a work of moving art. 

Skating alongside Annie was different, and it had nothing to do with the lack of quads in her arsenal. She moved with a very particular kind of grace, letting a lithe quality imbue her lines as she glided across the ice. Rotations were more her forte, managing to make the transition between a flying camel and a sit spin look effortless. Pieck liked to affectionately refer to Annie as the world’s most graceful blender and Armin had to agree. 

As new to choreographing as Armin was, working with Annie was easy. Although it was merely a treat for the next gala, they were keen on treating the music like it was that of their programs, as if the way they skated to every note would define the future of their careers. The opera Armin picked was beautiful and bright, music that could make the hairs on his arm stand even if his grasp on French left much to be desired.

Even if neither him nor Annie could understand the words, they could understand the characters that inspired the tale. If Annie was Psyche — the embodiment of soul who endured trials given by Aphrodite herself — then Armin was Eros — the embodiment of love brave enough to defy the goddess of love. 

But despite Armin’s familiarity with the original myth, he couldn’t recall a point in the legend where Eros awkwardly lifted Psyche into his arms and glided across a sheet of ice. 

At least Jean was willing to help. It seemed that even the busiest of ice dancers had time to administer a crash-course in curve lifts to a pair of plucky blonde skaters. 

Armin stood on the ice with his arms crossed, watching intently as Jean demonstrated a very basic lift, utilizing Annie as his semi-willing participant. 

“Willing” because how else was she going to practice her part of the element? And “semi” because she looked to be glaring daggers at Jean as he carried her across the surface. 

Back in the dance studio Jean had taught the two every he could. He explained the physics behind the move, showing the points of contact between the two skaters and how the momentum of the movement would make it easier on Armin’s frame. The lifter — whether it be Armin or Jean — was to move across the ice in a curved pattern, all while their body remained in a lunge position. The lifted would lie on the thigh of the lifter, keeping their core tight as they two glided across the ice. 

All Annie really needed to do was remain still as she rested on her boyfriend’s leg, and all Armin had to do was keep one hand on the small of her back and try to make the whole move look easy.

While practicing the position on a wooden floor was one thing, bringing the concept to the rink felt like something else entirely. 

Being the seasoned ice dancer he was, Jean looked like he could do the lift with his eyes closed. Although Annie was stiff as a board in his arms, he held himself and her with the kind of unbridled ease, gliding across the familiar pattern like it was second nature. Even the look in his eyes was amicable and gentle, despite Annie looking damn near close to kicking him in the shin. 

Annie was a far cry from Jean’s usual partner — in fact, her being an entire head shorter than Mikasa made the lift look more comedic than elegant. 

The amount of times that Armin had seen Jean lifting Mikasa into his arms was endless, often without breaking a sweat. The feat either involved excessive spinning, the blade of her skate resting against his thigh, or the occasional leg wrapping around his neck as they twirled. Heck, Jean had even lifted Armin himself, easily raising the smaller skater upwards, then hip-to-shoulder the two would rotate and Armin could experience the ice with a whole different perspective. 

It was fun being lifted, but being the lifter seemed like a whole other beast.

Once the lift ended Jean put Annie down, the latter looking relieved to finally return to solid ice. In the actual routine she and Armin were meant to skate towards the opposite end of the rink before performing a few more jumps, but at the moment the extra bit of pizzazz was far from necessary. 

Armin let out the breath of air he had been holding in his stomach, feeling slightly more uneasy at the concept of lifting. And here he thought the synchronized double axels would be the most difficult part of the routine. 

Jean skated towards Armin with energy to spare, Annie trailing behind. 

“Alright, ready to give it a try?” 

A part of Armin wanted to say no and scrap the lift entirely, but another part of him had spoken at length about performing such a move to one of the higher notes of the music — he had already made his bed and at this point he had to lie in it.

For a brief moment he tore his eyes away from Jean, looking around the rink and praying to spot a worthy distraction. 

On the other end of the ice was Eren and Zeke, currently operating as skater-and-coach when on the ice instead of the brothers they were when off. They were currently working with a harness, Zeke assisting Eren in mastering the quad lutz he had set out to perfect from the start of the season. 

Off the ice were a handful of his other rinkmates, seemingly relaxing between sessions. Mikasa was on a bench with Historia, the rink’s resident golden girl being very enamored by the fact that Mikasa had brought her dog to practice that day. It seemed that winning gold at Worlds had earned her the right to have her practices watched over by Panko the Shiba Inu. 

Behind them were Porco and Pieck wrangling a class of younger skaters, a group consisting of kids no older than twelve. The instructors tried to keep the chaos down as they waited for their designated ice time. It appeared that Porco’s method of entertaining the children — that was, lifting them in the air like he would with his partner — was working. Hand-to-hand he lifted a little girl named Sofia high above his shoulders, much to the child’s delight and Pieck’s laughter. Her classmates happily jumped in excitement like a bunch of puppies begging for their own turn. 

With nothing out of the ordinary in sight, Armin was forced to return to the reality he had bestowed on himself. With a sigh, he looked back to Jean and nodded. 

“Ready.”

He then skated towards Annie, quickly taking her hand and looking her in the eye. He was nowhere near as tall as Jean, yet whenever Armin looked at Annie he could feel his neck bending slightly so their gazes could meet. 

“You good with this?” he asked, though a part of him already knew the answer. 

Annie nodded very slowly. “You’re shaking, by the way.”

The laugh that Armin let out relieved the nerves in his system, but only marginally so. “I’m afraid you’d dump me if I dropped you.” 

Annie rolled her eyes. “You’d have to do a lot more than that.” She reached over to take his hand, tugging him slightly to guide him across the ice. 

Somehow, Annie’s words brought a smile to Armin’s face. “Do what, exactly?” 

Annie refused to dignify that with a response as she and Armin began to skate. It was easy to slip into their first move, side-by-side spirals on one foot. The position was familiar to both of them, but perhaps a little more to Annie than Armin.

Jean remained where he was, crossing his arms and watching intently. The way he held himself could remind anyone of a coach, a role he seemed to play just as well Armin and Annie did with theirs. 

The pair of tiny blonde skaters moved across the ice in a curve pattern. Armin’s heart began beating just a bit faster as the fabled lift came into play. In his eyes time slowed down — Armin got into the lunge position just as he felt Annie wrap one of her arms around his shoulder for support. She navigated Armin’s slender frame with ease, managing to position the backs of her thighs onto his extended knee. Then Armin held her, making sure to support her back like a newlywed groom would to his bride. 

And to Armin’s shock, they managed to glide across the ice without stumbling, remaining in the position for the entire duration of the curve lift. He let out a laugh of relief and held his significant other dearly. Smiling wildly, they looked into each other's eyes, Annie’s usual icy expression softening very slightly. 

Soon it was over and Armin let her down. In the usual routine they had choreographed a synchronized butterfly kick into a sit spin, but right now neither him nor Annie bothered. 

In his career Armin had accomplished a variety of milestones — a double axel when most kids were struggling with toe loops, a handful of quads by the time he was a teenager, and a bronze medal during his Junior Grand Prix Final debut. But at this moment all of that paled in comparison. 

It wasn’t like the first time he landed a quad, wherein he let out a delightful yell so jarring that Coach Erwin asked if he was okay. The aftermath of achieving such a basic curve lift made Armin feel elated and free — a feeling characterized by a rather wide smile on his pretty face. 

Beaming like the sun on a cloudless day, Armin looked at Annie. Instead of sporting her usual dead-eyed glare, the mildest glimpse of a smile seemed to be tugging at her lips. 

Before Armin could tease his girlfriend over it, the pair of tiny skaters were interrupted by the sound of clapping. 

“Yeah! Fuck yeah!” Jean let out. Ignoring the gaggle of school-aged children waiting near the rink, he skated towards his trainees with what could only be described as ‘Proud Coach Face,’ a look that both Armin and Annie had seen plenty of times before. 

“That’s how it’s done!” Jean continued, patting Armin on the shoulder. He attempted to do the same for Annie until the resurgence of her usual glare made him decide against it. 

Nonetheless, Jean seemed pleased with what he had taught, and that in itself was all Armin and Annie really needed from the session. 

“That good, huh?” Armin asked, resting a hand on his hip as he caught his breath. 

A beat followed as Jean kept his hands clasped together. Armin heard Annie let out a slight scoff — she knew this look and so did he, the look on Jean’s face when he wanted to say what was on his mind, but had to say it in a way that was more helpful than harmful. At least no one could say he wasn’t working on his constructive criticism skills.

“There’s always room for improvement,” Jean soon said. “But it’s a good start.”

Annie scoffed once more, louder this time, and Armin let out an awkward chuckle. Considering how he didn’t drop his significant other on the rink, he considered the practice a success. Sure, there were plenty of kinks to be ironed out — the unfamiliarity of the lift on his slender frame, the slight wobble in his ankle as he glided across the ice, and Annie struggling to properly secure herself to him in a short amount of time.

But for now, Armin only wanted to celebrate the positive, as he achieved what he set out to do on he and Annie’s quest to put the tale of Eros and Psyche on ice. 

[ghost-party]

Pairing: Marco Bodt x Curvy F!Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: friends to lovers, mutual pining, confessions, kissing, male arousal, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), lots of praise, swearing, Marco is a consent king, soft sex, use of a condom, mild begging, sweet banter

A/N: This is a commission for the lovely @antique-remains! 😊 Both Marco and the reader are in their early 20’s. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT INTERACT!

When Marco agreed to continue rooming with Jean after college, he knew what he was in for. Towels left on the bathroom floor, frozen waffles on Sunday mornings, the occasional drunken pining for Mikasa, and hanging out with friends a lot.

Jean’s a social guy, and he gladly jumps at any opportunity to throw a party. Marco, although outgoing, is a little more introverted, especially now that he’s working on his Master’s degree, surviving on caffeine and intermittent bouts of restless sleep.

But he’s always happy to see the college crew: Eren, who’s back in town for a week before flying back to Germany for work; Armin and Annie, high school sweethearts working at the same elementary school; Mikasa, now the head instructor at her uncle’s martial arts school; Connie, who’s in between jobs and constantly plugging his Twitch stream; and Sasha, an events coordinator at a culinary school.

And then there’s you.

Jean may be his oldest friend, but you’re his closest. After meeting in a freshman psychology lecture, you began to study together, frequenting mediocre on-campus coffee shops until you discovered a cozy café near your dorm. It became your spot, the place you two would always go to complain about classes and talk about anything and everything.

After four years of closeness, learning about all your little quirks and habits, knowing more about you than anyone else he spent time with, even Jean, it’s really no surprise that he fell for you.

He just has to work up the courage to tell you.

Graduation was nearly six months ago. The year is winding down, more quickly than he ever expected. And he’s still trying to figure out the best way to do it. 

He’s not nervous. No, no… He just wants it to be perfect, and that takes time, right? He’s not worried you’re going to gently let him down and tell him you’re only interested in being friends… That’s ridiculous.

And completely true, of course. He’s terrified.

He snaps out of his thoughts to see that his friends, having already devoured their pizza and poured generous drinks, are now sprawled on the big thrift store couch Jean positioned in front of the TV. From the eerie music and the cheesy blood spatter decorating the opening credits, he guesses they’re watching some cult classic slasher flick. 

“Halloween was two weeks ago,” he teases, mostly to enjoy Jean’s groan.

“Don’t be a killjoy. Just sit back and enjoy Zombie Cowboys from Outer Space.”

Eren speaks with his hair tie held between his lips, his fingers combing through his tangles. At least part of Jean’s annoyance probably comes from the way Mikasa is tucked into Eren’s side, their thighs pressed together.

“Is that seriously what it’s called?” Eren asks, and Jean scoffs.

Marco shakes his head and decides it might be for the best to skip this one. Besides, he’s realized he’s not the only one uninterested in low-budget dismemberments and truly awful dialogue.

When he finds his bedroom door open, his heart starts beating a little faster. The feeling only worsens when he sees you sitting on his bed, examining the bookshelves he tucked into the corner next to his desk.

You turn and smile at him, and not for the first time, he’s struck by how beautiful you are.

“Hiding?” he asks, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. 

“Yeah. I wasn’t really in the mood for schlocky horror.” Your smile is warm, albeit a little sheepish. “If you want me to leave, I can —”

“No.” Marco is quick to shake his head. As he fully steps into the room and closes the door behind him, he swallows thickly.

Maybe this… This is the moment.

“I’ve actually… been wanting to talk to you. For, uh… for a while now.”

Your brow furrows just a little as he sits beside you on the bed. He’s close enough to feel the warmth of your body, and he briefly wonders if he’ll faint before he even gets the chance to confess. You’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters, which makes it one of his favorite sweaters, and it’s one that he’s hugged you in before and knows is soft. He can smell your shampoo, too, a familiar scent that has somehow become a comfort to him.

It’s hard not to stare, but at the same time, conflictingly, it feels difficult to meet your gaze. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask, voice laced with concern. “You kind of look like you’re going to be sick…”

I do? Ugh, that is the last thing he wants. Why is this so hard?

He’s confident when it comes to nearly everything else in his life. He was captain of the debate team in high school. He never balks at the prospect of giving a presentation. He heartily throws himself into trying new things and embraces spontaneity.

But this…

Taking a deep breath, he draws upon the many, many imaginary versions of this conversation he’s practiced in his head and finally speaks.

“I like you. So much. And I… I really want us to be more than friends, but if that’s not how you feel, I don’t want — I mean, I do want, but I totally respect —”

When he feels your hands on his face, palms pressed against his cheeks, fingers sliding into his hair, which has fallen across his forehead, still freckled from summer… everything stops.

Now he can’t help but look at you — can’t imagine doing anything but look at you.

“Marco Bodt,” you intone very seriously, though your eyes are full of something tender he’s only glimpsed a few times, an emotion he convinced himself he must have imagined.

“It’s about time one of us said it.”

His eyes widen. “You knew?”

“Well, no. But I hoped…” Now it’s your turn to look flustered. “What I do know is that we both think things through before we act. Maybe sometimes a little too much…”

The noise Marco makes is somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief. “Overthinking is one of my specialties when it comes to big feelings. And what I feel for you…” 

He leans into your touch, enjoying this newfound closeness. “It might be the biggest thing I’ve ever felt.”

If someone later asked him who moved first, you or him, he honestly couldn’t say. But it doesn’t matter in the slightest since your lips meet either way, the kiss slow and tentative at first. He wants to memorize the feel of your mouth, the way it seems to fit so perfectly against his.

Your hands card through his hair, and his own reach out to grasp your waist. He’s touched you before, but not like this — never like this. He narrowly swallows a groan as he traces your curves, fighting the desire to lift the hem of your sweater and seek out bare skin.

But as your kiss grows in intensity, your body soon lying halfway back on the bed, you verge on giving in to your own desires, one of your hands remaining at the back of his neck while the other tugs at his shirt.

Reluctantly pulling away, he looks down at you, his gaze uncertain. He can’t deny that he’s wondered what this would be like, having you in his room, no more secrets, no distractions, just the two of you, together. But even so, he wants to check in.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice low. “I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I just want to make you feel good, whatever that looks like.”

Your hand fists in the soft cotton of his shirt as you look up at him, biting your lower lip in a way that makes his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Maybe it’s weird, but… we’ve been friends for so long, and I’ve been wanting this for so long that…” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck as you consider your words.

“It doesn’t feel too fast or anything. It just… feels right.” Pushing his shirt a little higher, you press your hand against the small of his back, pulling him closer.

“I want you, Marco. I’m all yours. Always have been.”

Those words replay in his mind again and again as the two of you undress each other, throwing clothes onto the floor and gradually moving further up the bed. As he slowly tugs your panties down your legs, you try to hide your face, embarrassed, and he murmurs sweet praise in an effort to help you relax.

He’s grateful that the others are watching such a loud movie when he starts fingering you, and then, unable to resist, when he buries his face between your plush thighs, letting every sweet gasp and whimper guide him in his efforts.

“That’s it, baby…” His voice seems to move through you, mouth still pressed against you as two of his fingers push a little deeper, rubbing a spot that has you practically writhing beneath him.

“You look so pretty like this. Don’t hold back, okay? I’ve got you… I want to see you cum…”

His strong arms hold you steady as he uses his lips and tongue to push you over the edge, his gaze lifting to watch your expression dissolve into bliss.

Soon enough, though, you’re reaching for him, hands grasping at his broad shoulders, trying to pull him closer. “Marco…”

Fuck, the way you say his name… He’s hard and aching, wanting nothing more than to slip inside you. But he needs to hear it from you. He needs to know that you’re ready, that you want this.

Propping himself above you, he swipes the back of his hand across his lips before kissing you, though you don’t seem to mind the lingering taste of your own arousal.

“You sure, baby?” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. And we can stop if it doesn’t feel good.”

You respond by wrapping your legs around him, and a shaky groan escapes him as his cock rubs against your slick folds.

“I’m sure,” you tell him, your voice light, still riding the euphoric wave of your orgasm. “It’s you… Of course it’ll feel good.”

He kisses you again and again as he fumbles for the nightstand drawer, blindly opening it and reaching around until he finds a box of condoms. When you help him tear open the wrapper and then roll it onto his length, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to make sure he doesn’t cum too soon. Tasting you had pushed him closer to the edge than he expected.

He lowers his body once more and keeps his word, moving slowly as he rubs against you, rolling his hips as your legs open wider, inviting him in. As he begins to push inside, he pays attention to your face, watching for any signs of discomfort.

“You’re doing so good for me… There you go… Just relax, baby. You feel amazing.”

And you do. His body is tense with the effort it takes to restrain himself. But he wants this pleasure to last as long as it can, for both of you.

When you nod, telling him you’re ready for more, he slowly pulls back before pushing back in, gradually finding a steady pace that feels good. He loves being able to see you, to look into your eyes as he praises you.

“You’re perfect. So beautiful, you know that?” His lips linger on the swell of your cheek, and you sigh into his ear, a sound he knows he’ll never grow tired of hearing.

He’s content to take his time with you, to make this moment better than any fantasy he’s ever had. Your warmth envelops him in a way that makes things hazy, his mind emptying, leaving only this — your hips rising to meet his, the way your breasts move, the softness of your skin, his name on your lips.

He’s in love. He loves you. And he’ll tell you soon enough. But for now, he’ll do everything he can to show you.

When it’s clear that you’re getting close, your body tensing beneath him as you cling even harder to his back, he slips a hand between you, angling himself in a way that allows him to reach your clit.

“Baby… Yes… Please, cum for me again.” His breaths are harder now, his brow damp with sweat as his own orgasm grows nearer. “Want to feel you — then I’ll — I need you.”

His kiss swallows your cries as you tip over the edge, trembling as he cradles your body against his. A few more thrusts, and then he’s right there with you, grateful that his moan is muffled by your lips. Next time, he distantly thinks, he’ll make sure no one else is home. He wants to hear you properly.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, his mouth trailing along your jaw, every movement feeling pleasantly weighed down. He can feel when you smile, even as he kisses your neck.

“For what? I feel like I should be thanking you.” Your arms encircle him, and he gladly reciprocates, wrapping himself around you.

“A mutual thanking, then,” he says, and you softly laugh. “Can I take you on a date tomorrow? Breakfast?”

You hum, making a show of thinking about it. “Are you just assuming I’ll spend the night?”

He rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him, and you laugh again, prompting him to grin.

“Yes, because I’m not letting you go. I physically can’t. Sorry about that.”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“Ah, you caught me. Can you ever forgive me?”

Your nose bumps against his, and he swears his heart might crack open his chest. He loves you so much. It’s the most joyful realization he’s ever had.

“I suppose I can let my boyfriend treat me to pancakes…”

When you begin to kiss his freckles, he feels lighter than air. Boyfriend. Which means you’re finally, finally his girlfriend.

And, if he allows himself to dream, perhaps someday even more than that. He could only be so lucky.