#reibert week

[debilmann]

Reibert week compilation ❤️

Ig: @artsyfartsy94

[candysdoodles]

I took part in @reibertdaily 's reibert week challenge on instagram : https://www.instagram.com/p/CvMBaQwuQdw/?img_index=1

I really loved this challenge but it was difficult and stressful to post something every day so I chose to do all the prompts with a chibi style ^^ it was easier for me

Day 2: Hurt/Comfort, poor Bertholdt needs a hug 🥺

Day 3: Kids

Day 4: Titan swap

Day 5: Vacation

Day 6: Happy birthday Reiner! 🖤

Day 7: Baking, oops, don't get mad Reiner xD

[reibert-brainrot]

🌟Reibert Week 2023!🌟

Read below to learn more

Hello all!! I am very very excited to announce that Reibert Week gets to shine yet again this year!

I got to pair up with the ever so lovely Twitter/X/ Instagram artist “ Pixlezy” (also on here as Pixlezi!! ) which completely put me in shock as I’m a huge fan of their work. Not only that, they designed the graphic you see above!

This reibert week is set to run through 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟎! (Not to get confused with the one that ran from july 27th to august 1st)

-Please help us decide what prompts you'd like to see during the event here 👇

[amphithereartz]

Reibert week 2023 day 3: The King and His Knight.

Or in this case, The Princess and His Knight. 😂

I was watching The Princess Bride when I got inspired to draw this. It felt like the perfect film to reference for this prompt. 🥰

I really enjoyed drawing this piece. The color palette is the highlight here. Each color goes well to give it that autumn vibe. I’d say Reiner kinda sticks out cuz he’s the only one not dressed in an autumn color. 🤣 but black goes with anything so he’s good.

[hjemne]

Reiner moons over Krista in front of both Bertholdt and Ymir, completely oblivious to the hurt and anger seeping from them respectively, as well as the complete disinterest of his supposed crush. And that’s all it is, isn’t it? A crush. Meaningless and fleeting. It can’t compare to what he and Bertholdt have, the years being the most important person in each other’s lives, an anchor to steady them against the whirling storm of their slowly collapsing mission.

But Reiner is no longer the boy he knew. Bertholdt can’t deny that any longer.

Some angsty hurt/comfort for Reibert Week 2023: Day 1 - Canonverse!

[midori-moonflaw]

Reibert week 2023 Day 2: Childhood Sweetheart/Pets/First Kiss

Technically this could have also counted for day 5, but...

[the-mother-of-sighs]

Reibert Week 2023, Day 4: | Actor AU | Caste/Modern AU | Reincarnation |

In which a couple can't keep their hands off each other in the photobooth: The Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover Story.

[lucaaazd]

Reibert bus shenanigans part 2. Read part 1 here. Anyways START SCENE

“Stay cool, stay cool,” The blond boy clutched the back of a seat, “All we gotta do is take the bus the other way, right?”

Bertolt was inconsolable. Take the bus the other way? What’s he talking about? He had no money. Why couldn’t Dad have given him a metro card with more than one ride on it? He cussed himself for losing his student pass in a school toilet on Taco Tuesday. He’d had too much beans and rice and was eager to leave the crime scene in case the next person who used the bathroom linked his presence to the radioactive stench. Being caught stinking up the already disgusting boys’ bathroom would be his social death, although to be honest he was getting there without the help of a poopy reputation. There’s no way he’s getting back home. Fluorescent street lights flew past the windows in a bright, ghostly arch, illuminating the run-down, industrial cityscape. Bertolt had only been to Queens twice to visit his family friends, the Galliards’. They lived in a three-story house with an overgrown backyard and chain link fences, and Bertolt had marveled at how much bigger everything was there. The streets were wider, the gas stations enormous, miles of parking garages the size of malls overlooked the highway. The highway. “We’re literally on the highway!” Bertolt sobbed.

“Eh, yeah,” the other boy agreed, “Hm,” he looked down at his feet, any residual pompousness evaporated.

“What’s wrong, darlings?” Squeaked an old woman with a walker. They had caused quite a scene. Bertolt went bright red, “Eh, nothing.”

“Dear me, you lads seem quite young to be taking the bus all by yourselves,” the lady said, “How old are you kids?”

“13,” said the blond kid, puffing up his chest.

“12,” Lied Bertolt. He was turning eleven in a week and a half.

“Oh my,” the woman stood up with difficulty, her shriveled arms shaking like mad above her walker, “Not lost, are you?”

Bertolt looked around quickly and registered the fact that they were the only people on the bus. “No,” both boys said at the same time and looked at each other, flabbergasted. “Hold on,” Bertolt remembered something, “Where’s your phone?”

“Right here,” the boy waved his ginormous iPhone twelve with its Spider-Man case and four cameras.

“Oh,” a hint of resentment flashed through Bertolt, “Can you look up where we are?”

“Eh, no.”

“Why?” Resentment quickly festered into annoyance.

“It’s dead,” said the kid, “Where’s your phone?”

Oh. Duh. “Dead,” said Bertolt bashfully.

“Why didn’t you charge it before you left?” The boy prodded.

“I did,” Bertolt felt defensive, “it’s old.”

“I saw you watching Ice Spice.”

“Hey!” Said Bertolt, “it��s none of your business. Why were you spying?” He bit back.

“You were playing it from your phone really loud. It’s kind of hard to miss.”

“No I wasn’t. I had my headphones in,” gasped Bertolt.

“Guess you didn’t charge your headphones either,” the annoying new boy shrugged.

Bertolt turned scarlet. So the whole bus could hear him. Great. Everyone probably thought he was a little weirdo.

“I don’t blame you. She’s hot,” said the other boy with a longing look. Bertolt’s ears started burning. “Barbie World is a really good song, okay?” he stuttered.

“Sure,” the kid towered over him, waggling his eyebrows, “You totally don’t wanna ‘undress her everywhere’.”

“Ew!” Bertolt protested.

“I wish she had more melons,” his eyes began to cross, “The things I would do to them…”

Bertolt felt extremely uncomfortable, “Please stop. Seriously.”

“I’m Reiner, by the way,” the boy snapped out of his daze with a sheepish smile, “What’s your name?”

“Bertolt,” Bertolt answered reluctantly, bracing for taunts.

“Burger?” Reiner repeated.

“Bertolt,” Bertolt said a little louder.

“Okay Birdsack,” said Reiner, “Let’s get off this fucking bus.”

Bertolt gasped at his audacity. He was disliking the boy more by the minute. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“So,” Reiner whistled, jumping up and hanging onto the bar with one hand, “let’s - wait.”

“I think,” said Bertolt apprehensively, “We might be waiting for a really long time.”

Before Reiner could respond, bus driver barked, “No swinging!” It caught Reiner off guard and he fell right into a pole. “Ow!”

Bertolt watched with little sympathy as the older boy clutched his right knee, hopping on one foot with a pained expression.

“Easy love,” the nice lady with the walker cooed over Reiner, “Want to get off the bus, you said?”

Bertolt nodded furiously. The lady smiled and pointed at a red button next to her head that spelled “STOP” in all cap. She pushed it and a “ding!” issued from the speaker. “Stop requested,” it announced.

“That’s it?” Bertolt said in disbelief.

“Never took the bus before?” The woman grinned toothlessly.

Bertolt stared around him like he’d never taken a proper look at the inside of a bus before. Now that he’s paying attention, there were indeed red buttons everywhere that said “STOP”. The answer was right in front of him this whole time. Bertolt wanted to slap himself. It’s true that he didn’t take the bus very often. Mom didn’t like them. She said it was a vertigo thing, plus they came rather sporadically. Bertolt’s mother was a career woman with very short patience and had sworn off the bus due to the one time they had to wait an hour for the M4 after her meeting at a partner hotel on the East Side. Bertolt had to listen to her rant about how disorganized and inefficient the MTA was as a company and in a lower voice, how rude the bus driver was when her card kept declining. Bertolt tuned out the rest as usual by thinking about that cute girl in his social studies class. He must have had a faraway look in his eyes because his mom had grabbed him by the ear seconds later, hissing at him to pay attention. “Well, there, that’s your stop, young man,” the old lady pointed at the back door.

The bus had come to a stop, sending Reiner crashing into the seat in front of him. “Come on,” Bertolt thought about lending him a hand but instead tucked both into his pockets.

“Okay,” Reiner grimaced as he followed Bertolt to the door. For a moment, they both stared at the glass screen, unsure of what to do.

“Touch the yellow tape to open door,” the same robotic voice from earlier said. Bertolt pushed the yellow strip and the double doors folded aside. “Thanks, ma’am!” Bertolt muttered before hurrying off the bus.

“Good luck, kids!” Said the woman, waving at them from the window, “The other bus is across the street!”

Indeed, the desolate, dimly lit little bus stop stood twenty feet before them. Bertolt looked both ways to make sure no car was coming before crossing the road in a jog. “Wait up, Borgat,” Reiner called after him, panting. Remembering that he had fucked up his leg earlier, Bertolt felt like an asshole. He turned around and reluctantly lent Reiner a shoulder, which the other boy clung onto for dear life. Together they wobbled to the sad little bench in front of a Viagra ad. Bertolt studied the twin cups with a curious expression. “Those don’t work,” said Reiner expertly, wincing as he eased himself down onto the bench.

“I don’t get why you can’t just get more toothpaste,” said Bertolt.

Reiner looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What?” Bertolt shot back.

“Nothing,” said the other boy.

They watched the scarce traffic go by the poorly lit street. “How do we know when the bus is coming?” Bertolt wondered out loud.

“Dunno,” Reiner shrugged, “Oh, I think you can text a number.”

“Great!” Bertolt clapped his hands together, “Let’s text the number.”

Awkward silence hung in the air. “Or,” Reiner coughed into his hand, “We just wait.”

They waited for what felt like fifteen minutes, during which Bertolt adamantly avoided eye contact with the other boy. He distracted himself by thinking about Annie, whose number he acquired last week during recess after half the boys in his class egged him on. They had looked shocked when he came back with ten digits scribbled on the palm of his hand and no bruises anywhere. “No way,” one of them held Bertolt’s hand like it was a piece of important evidence at a crime scene, “it’s probably fake. She’s messing with him. Let’s call it after school.” The same boy’s jaws were slack when she actually picked up later that day, sounding bored as ever. She’s the coolest. She wore her hair down yesterday and Bertolt found himself not so casually staring at her the whole period, earning himself a few extra head smacks from Mrs. Mcleod. For some reason Mrs. Mcleod had decided to dress code Annie as soon as class was over, and she returned from the principle’s office wearing an ugly wrinkly school T-shirt that said “MSC” instead of the blue tank top. She was still cute when she was fuming.

“What’s with that smile?” Reiner’s voice snapped him back into an Annie-less reality, “Thinking about Ice Spice again?”

How dare he make such a vile allegation? “No!” Bertolt bellowed.

“Chill. I have a proposal,” said Reiner.

Bertolt waited for him to continue.

“You see that deli over there?” Reiner gestured behind them at the sketchiest looking deli Bertolt had ever seen, its narrow doorway lit up beneath the man-sized Viagra bottle. “Let’s see if we could charge our phones there.”

“I don’t have a charger. Or money,” Bertolt worried.

“Me neither,” said Reiner in a mock sing-songy voice, “I could use some Taki’s though.” He made to get up and Bertolt had to try and stop him, “But your leg! Plus, I have a feeling we shouldn’t go in there.” Bertolt eyed the men hanging out outside the shop, smoking cigarettes with their backs against the graffitied walls.

“Fine, you wait here then,” Reiner pushed Bertolt’s hand away and strode towards the deli.

“Wait up! Don’t leave me here alone,” Bertolt whined. When Reiner didn’t answer, he gritted his teeth and followed the older boy.

END SCENE

[kiwie-not-kiwi]

« Achilles, When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together » - Patroclus

⠀

I did this AU illustration for Reibert week this summer, for the theme « Historical ». It was the perfect occasion to explore an idea I had some weeks ago : to imagine Bert and Reiner as Patroclus and Achilles. I love all similarities between these two duos ! The Patroclus’s devotion for Achilles reminds me so much the Bert’s loyalty for Reiner… And they have both of them a tragic fate for that … 😔

Best friends or lovers ? ( for my part, I chose 👀 ) I also really love this ambiguity between Patrochilles which matches very well with Reibert !!

[oxygenbefore1775]

i want to hear ur take on loveless marriage canon divergence routes because what comes to mind for Me are

yumihisu come with reibert to the docked marleyan ship with Only reibert's hunch from annie that her family is "important" to the wallists, hisu hates zeke because he Seems like the one at fault for porco eating ymir, drama of How will they figure out her nobility ooh ahh

the whole time skip proposal from zeke via kiyomi, as we Have discussed

i support you launching this rarepair even if it's a canoe dear mae

hi dear kat

beware, this is a sheet of text

1) This is quite inventive considering that Reiner's (and Ymir's?) initial plan for CoT to kidnap Historia anyway. But this leaves her in a compromised position as prisoner of war in Marley where she could be easily executed (I prefer Zeke to be like this lol). Plus at that point, Historia has never had her government arc — at that point in the story she's feeling like an empty shell (killing her dad has quite reformed her). Also, i don't think there would be any chance for Zeke and Historia to hit it off since Historia obvi hates Zeke and to him she's just a brat who got tagged along because Reiner has a crush on her — [my irl thought process about to ensue] — but then again, Zeke is vaguely aware that Historia ~might~ be valuable since she appears to have connections to some Reiss family (I believe at that time Zeke could only learn that Reiss were a noble house crucial to the government but nothing more). Most likely that Zeke would be more concerned about finding Eren of whose existence he learned from Reibert, and mostly ignore Historia during the first weeks the warriors spent preparing for RTS.

I haven't read the royal uprising arc in quite a while but Historia's presence wasn't really crucial to the overthrowing of the government - Erwin just did it on his own volition and additionally found out that the Reisses are the real ruling family of Paradis. At this point I'm not sure if they would make Rod the King since his presence in politics was always prominent throughout but let's assume he will so naturally the question of an heir would arise. Since Historia was carries away before she had a chance to reveal her true identity, the Survey Corps would have no idea of her royal heritage unless Rod tells them. But, admittedly, it would be hard to make the missing girl the official heir so I guess they would just leave it there. (god, i'll hope Rod would die soon to create a power vaccum for Historia to fill)

I don't want to think how Zeke found out about Historia's royal blood. He wouldn't be interested to build connections with someone who is not somehow an extension of himself (like Eren is). But maybe the matter of Historia's identity was pressed soon enough since Marleyans weren't pleased with keeping a low-rank scout instead of simply getting rid of her. Maybe it was Ymir who relayed the info about Historia to Zeke in an attempt to make her life seem valuable and thus protected, or maybe Zeke found this out by himself by raiding the nearby villages and learning of the recent coronation of some Reiss and connecting the dots. Only then would Zeke feel the tendency to guard Historia from the Marleyans, but not out of deep attachment to someone of his bloodline, but because she suddenly became an important political bargaining tool in his eyes.

Eren was still something more important than anything else to Zeke yet he lacked power or influence in Paradis to arrange a meeting with him. And it seemed that Historia would be his key to Eren (much like Sansa in asoiaf). At this point Zeke would force Historia into a position of no choice but to accept his plan. In the Marleyan camp, Zeke is the only one to stand between her and the execution so she's highly reliant on him to live, and it's not that Marleyans would be willing to let her go, not after she came to learn some intel on Marley - he has her life in his hands.

In exchange for her help establishing contact with Eren and sending a note to him, Zeke would help Historia escape the ship and thus give Paradis its Queen. Additionally, Zeke's anti-Marleyan volunteers would provide communications between the Island and the outside world should Paradis ever want to lift the iron curtain. To seal the deal — but mostly to give himself some sort of power as an outsider — they marry. (much to Reiner's chagrin, most possibly) (Atp I'm not sure if Zeke would be psycho enough to make her consume his spinal fluid to always have that leash of influence over Historia, idk)

The warriors would still lose in RTS, but that wouldn't faze Zeke too much since he's already dug his claws in the probability of future contact with Paradis idk idk

...

I quite like this canon divergence but it leaves Historia a submissive husk of a person character that is constantly compromised (at least in my rendition) since the royal uprising arc is where she gets a massive growth that is not present in this case. So the Jikuhisu dynamic is suffering greatly cuz Historia isn't able to give any pushback on Zeke's delulu.

And also there's the matter of their canonical ages which is *eugh*

2) That is something that originally came to my mind, yes. I guess it involves less dark stuff because Historia can fight for herself in this scenario. But also, in this case, the whole reason behind the marriage happening would be Zeke scheming too much and driving himself into a matrimony neither of them wanted. This way, it's more hilarious and makes the blonde man suffer more from the consequences of his own actions. They would spend the days trying to outwit each other into oblivion, with Zeke trying to see Eren and Historia reining him in yet simultaneously demanding a more high quality help from anti-marleyan volunteers in terms of modernizing Paradise or something like that — fruitless months, just like how Zeke spent them in the canon, but instead of a forest he's in a royal quarters and instead of Levi chaperoning him it's the Queen.

Yet additionally, the lack of things to do and the prior knowledge of their blood relation might compel Zeke to deign to inquire more about Historia, with initial intent to get into her head and find out the best way to sway her. But I guess their similar upbringing and trauma made Zeke realize that she has a lot of common with him. As I posited somewhere before, Zeke tends to like people who resemble him the most and this discovery must've positively predisposed him to Historia (let's be fucked up together vibes).

I'm not sure about their dynamic from Historia's side, though. From what I understand, the Queenship weighed heavily on her. Despite the opportunities her position offered, she lamented her inability to keep her promise to Ymir. Her marriage to Zeke for the sake of Paradis was yet another nail in the coffin of her hope for personal freedom, making her grieve her fate even more. Thus the initial hostility that Historia might have showcased, lying through her teeth to get Paradis better perks. But, as they came to get to know each other more, the more Historia recognized her past self in Zeke. Considering the similarities in their upbringing, with them desperately striving for their parents' love, they both got the "dead inside". Only Historia managed to find her self-worth (plus Frieda was a huge pillar of emotional support) whereas Zeke was still stuck in his self-destructive curve. [something something using chapter 66 as a flimsy shield of an excuse] Mayhaps Historia would do something about it (I don't expect her saviour complex to kick in, she's not someone who may be able to cure his 20+ year-old trauma)

Come to think of it, both of their characters are defined by the promises they made to their loved ones (Zeke's being fulfilling the euthanasia plan and Historia's being living she wouldn't regret). However, the former is being miserable through adhering to his promise, whereas the latter suffers all the same by not keeping her promise. [idk idk it's just very interesting to point out]

...

I like this version more since it has the ability to get more dark and yet more hilarious simultaneosly. Plus, this scenario gives both of them a similar size agenda to hold whereas with the first one it's the Zeke who holds more power in their dynamic.

I'm not very good when it comes to canon divergences. I don't believe I can do better than Yams in terms of thinking thru the politics these major changes should bring so there's that. I tend to live off of vibes, mostly, and the vibes these two give off are simply scrumptious

3) that's why I've been delulu about quasi medieval/fantasy au with those two. It's not much but It's about Zeke "taking a castle and holding his host there", with Historia being the lady of the castle who's obviously not chuffed with being occupied by an enemy army. That's it, that's the vibes

[shingekinosimpson]

You Had Me At B Minor: Chapter 13

First | Previous

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x Marco Bodt

Other relationships: Reibert, Springles, Historia x Ymir, Levi x Hange, a smidge of Jearmin

Rating: Mature

Summary: Jean's band needs a new bass player. Cue freckled Jesus.

Warnings/tags: Long fic, slow burn, Jean POV, friends to lovers, British AU with cannon locations, northern Jean, Unsigned band AU, nonbinary Armin, I promise there will be smut eventually! drinking, mentions of death, descriptions of domestic violence, panic attacks, see start of each chapter for more specific trigger warnings

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

Trigger warnings: n/a

Who am I, darling to you? Who am I? Going to tell you stories of mine Who am I?

Oh, who am I, darling for you? Who am I? Could be a burden in time, lonely Who am I, to you?

And who am I, darling for you? Who am I? Will be a burden Who am I, darling to you? Who am I?

“I got the job!”

“Wh-what??”

“I got the job!!”

“Yes!! Shit that’s amazing, I knew you would!”

“I didn’t! I thought my lesson went a bit wrong but they said I had lots of good things in there and they really liked how I was with the kids and…fuck. I can’t believe I actually got it!”

God I could listen to his voice all day.

I may not have seen Marco as much as I would like this week – nowhere near as much – but I’ve heard that voice plenty. So much so that I swear I can hear the difference between a small smile and a big smile. And let me tell you, that is a wide-ass fucking grin Marco is sporting right now.

Probably matches the one I’m wearing. I’m so fucking pleased for him. The number of times this poor guy’s rang me this week in a total stress and in need of a distraction has almost reached double figures. Not that I mind in the slightest. Although it was pretty eye-opening finding out how much pressure Marco puts on himself, how desperately he wants a steady job so he can give more support to his mam and sister. Even though I’m sure they’d be the first to tell him not to worry. It's a big relief knowing he can stop stressing so much now.

“I’m so fucking happy for you. What did your mam say when you told her? Did she scream in Italian like you said?”

“I haven’t told her yet. I literally just got off the phone with the head teacher. She probably will though.”

“…So…am I the first person you’ve told?”

“Erm, yeah,” he chuckles. “I guess.” It’s a good job I’m sitting down, otherwise that information might’ve floored me. A flush of heat rushes over my cheeks and chest and I grip my phone a little tighter, coyly chewing my lip. He just landed a permanent job and the first thing he does is ring me.

“I mean, you did say to ring you as soon as I heard,” Marco adds.

“Damn right I did!”

“Though now you mention it, I probably should give my mum a ring,” he says with a nervous laugh.

“Probably. I’ll speak to you later though yeah?”

“Yeah okay. Later then.”

“Later. And well done again. You’re gonna be amazing I know it.”

“O-okay.” That’s definitely his blushing voice. “Speak soon.”

As soon as he hangs up, I start typing a message.

HeresJeany:

By the way I am 100% taking you out for food tomorrow to celebrate! :P

He still hasn’t taken up my offer from last week, with him being so busy and all. I hope he doesn’t already have plans.

_________________________________

I've just chucked some chips and fish fingers in the oven (I can't be arsed to cook a proper meal) when my phone starts to ring, the picture of me and Marco where I look like a pineapple flashing up on the screen.

“It's like you knew I was making a fish finger sandwich. Well the answer is no, you can't have any.”

“Aw not even a bite?” he asks, snickering at my blunt greeting.

“Nope. All for me.”

He hums through another chuckle before speaking. “Soooo about food tomorrow. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Err, both I guess?” Okay, I know we're going away to Dauper in like, two days, but I'll still be gutted if he's not free for food. I am seriously craving some Marco time, especially after how touchy-feely he was the last time we hung out together. “What's up?"

“So the good news is we can have food tomorrow.”

Phew!

“Bad news is my mum is going all out cooking a family meal and she is absolutely insisting that you join us.”

What?

“Which basically means you don't have a choice.”

“Err...okay?”

The tips of my ears prickle with nervous energy. Family dinners always fill me with a sense of dread, especially since that disastrous one with Hitch a couple of years ago. I know there's no way Marco's family would be like them, and I've already met Mia but still, there's a formality to these things that sets me on edge.

“You sure? You don't actually have to I was only kidding…but my mum is really keen to meet my friends and... I’d really like it if you came.”

Oh fuck. His voice sounded really adorable there.

“N-no that sounds great! Tell her thanks for the invite that's really nice of her. So erm, what time should I come over?”

“Is six okay?”

“Yeah fine. Do you want me to bring anything or...Oh what do I need to wear? Do I need to wear something smart?”

He barks a laugh at that question. “No absolutely not. Wear anything you like. Though maybe don't risk the Moomin Vans or I might steal them.”

“Haha, okay.”

“Okay. I'll let you get back to your fish fingers.” His voice sounds so gorgeous I kind of don't want him to. “Speak to you later.”

“Okay later then. Bye.”

“Bye Jean.”

_________________________________

I pull the handbrake and toot the horn when I get to Marco's. After finding out he was planning to get the bus, I absolutely insisted on picking him up.

Butterflies are already starting to flip in my stomach in anticipation of seeing him. On one hand, I cannot wait to hang out with him again (it’s pretty much all I’ve thought about the last few days), but I won’t lie, the coward in me wants to run for the hills.

Last weekend was just so…I don’t even know how to describe it. I still have to pinch myself whenever I think about it. The way he was with me felt different. All the touching and blushing. There was just so much fucking joy in his eyes and in his laugh and I felt like I was a big part of that…maybe even the cause of that.

There have been moments when I’ve felt certain of that fact, to the point where I daydream telling him how I feel – what I’ll say, where I’ll say it, what he might say back…But then there have been other moments…moments where I’ve imagined Marco pulling away from me, backtracking on his affections and playing it all off as a bit of fun or drunken silliness…

The front door opens and I look over, my stomach landing with a ker-thump…

Wait, what the actual fuck???

I roll the window down as fast as I can while my eyes start bugging out of my head. “Marco what the hell!?”

WHY?? Why is he wearing a blazer with a fucking shirt and tie!?

He turns to me looking perplexed. “What?”

“What d'you mean 'WHAT'? Why are you dressed like that? You said I didn't have to dress up!”

“I’m not dressed up. I’m just dressed for a family meal. I thought it was obvious you needed to dress like this,” he says sounding a bit hurt.

“Of course it's not obvious! Why do you think I asked!? Shit, I need to go home and get changed. I don't even know if-”

Marco doubles over and starts howling with laughter.

“Oh my god,” he chokes with his hands on his knees. “Your face! Could you be anymore freaked out?”

He descends into wheezy chuckles again holding his stomach.

“Oh my god. You bastard.”

“I'm sorry. I just thought it was cute when you asked about wearing something smart and I couldn't resist.”

My grumpiness can't help but lessen at the word ‘cute’. Not to mention how cute he looks giggling away at me.

“I'll go get changed. Two seconds,” he says turning back.

That little shit. As if he actually came out dressed like that just to mess with me. At least I get a nice view of his arse in smart pants and his nipped in waist as I watch him retreat.

“If you don't come down here looking like a hobo, I'm gonna be seriously pissed!”

I’m treated to one more cheeky smile as he closes the door. My smile stretches so wide my cheeks ache. Fuck. I like him so much.

When he returns, he's definitely dressed way down compared to before but that does nothing to stop my butterflies making themselves known again, twirling and somersaulting like they’re caught in a tornado. He's wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a grey Superdry hoody. That's it. That's literally it. But christ does he look fucking sexy. His thighs and his shoulders and oh my god he just turned to lock the door and look at his arse nnggghhhhh!!

“Better?” he asks with a sunshine smile as he practically skips towards the car.

“Much better,” I answer honestly.

He buckles up and we set off with only ten minutes to spare.

“I am absolutely blaming you if we’re late,” I huff.

“We won't be late. Why are you getting so stressed?” Marco asks with an amused look.

“Because I don't want to make a shit impression.”

“You're really that bothered?”

“Of course I am, they're your family.”

There's a weight to those words I wish wasn't there. Marco considers me from the passenger seat, a warm smile on his face. I don’t realise I’m holding my breath until he speaks.

“You've got nothing to worry about Jean. My family likes you plenty.”

“I've only met Mia remember? Your family don't know me.��

“Okay but they know of you. How you helped out with Mia, how you've helped me...” He looks down at his lap with a blush, picking at the threads near his exposed knee. “My mum's been pestering me to bring you over for a while.”

“She has?”

“Well yeah, I talk about you all the time and she wants to meet-” He stops to clear his throat, brow furrowed. “I mean, she knows how you helped me find Mia that time so, yeah...like I said you've got nothing to worry about, so can you please calm your tits?”

My ears flush hearing he's talked about me with his mam, and all good things by the sound of it. I chew my lip around the huge smile trying to burst across my face, not wanting to look like a complete dork.

“Okay. Calm tiddies from now on. I promise.”

I let the smile out anyway and Marco mirrors it.

To my great relief we’re not super late, arriving one minute after six to be precise. I’m sure with some parents that would result in a passive aggressive comment or just an outright scolding when they answer the door. That is absolutely not what happens when Marco’s mam welcomes us.

“Marcorsetto! Come here my baby boy! Mwah, mwah, mwah!”

Marco’s mam can’t be much over five foot but that doesn’t stop her from pulling his face down for some serious smooches.

Not gonna lie - it’s adorable. She reminds me of Connie’s mam and I instantly like her.

Fuck, I hope she likes me.

She cups Marco’s cheeks with a big smile and then turns to me. “Jean! I’m Gianna. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

I’m a little (a lot) unprepared for the huge hug I find myself in. The air in my lungs leaves me with an oof but I quickly recover with a chuckle.

“You too! Thanks for inviting me.”

“Oooh molto bello!” she says over my shoulder, making Marco turn crimson.

“Mum!!”

“Hahaha! Come in! Come in! Help yourselves to slippers if you like!” she says disappearing down the passage towards the kitchen.

“Marcorsetto?” I ask, toeing off my shoes.

“Orsetto means ‘little bear’ in Italian.”

“Okay that might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Marco slides on some fluffy bunny slippers but I opt for the far more sensible tartan pair. I follow him down the hall towards the kitchen, where a number of voices are chatting animatedly.

“How in the hell? That one’s rigged. It must be!” says a gruff voice.

“It’s not! Here you bloody well use it!”

Opening the door, two things come into focus. The first thing is all the noise – laughter mostly, accompanied by something sizzling loudly on the hob and a classic disco tune dancing out of the radio in the corner. The second thing is the incredible smell. A mix of garlic and onion and herbs and other delicious things I can’t quite put my finger on.

I feel my stomach grumble, like it knows it’s in for a good time.

“Hello bonny lad!” says a stocky man with slightly greying, light brown hair.

He rises from his seat to give Marco a quick hug. The lady next to him – a dead-ringer for Marco’s mam – also stands, her eyes soft when she pulls Marco towards her.

“Hello Marco sweetheart!”

“Hi! You both okay?”

They nod and hum, both throwing a smile and a sideways glance in my direction.

“This is my friend Jean,” Marco beams making my stomach flip. “Jean, this is my Uncle Dave and Aunty Maxine.”

“Good to meet you son!” Uncle Dave smiles giving my hand a warm shake.

“Call me Max,” his Aunty replies, slipping a delicate hand in mine for a moment.

I greet them both in turn and take a seat next to Mia, offering her a quick ‘hi’. She quietly returns it, giving me what I think is a genuine smile before looking up at her Uncle Dave.

“C’mon then! You’ve got the rigged one so you shouldn’t have a problem now.”

Dave gives a hearty laugh, holding a small red counter between thumb and forefinger.

“Oh jeez,” Marco moans. “Tiddlywinks again Dave? You know she can’t be beaten.”

That explains the random assortment of things on the table – a red cup, counters of different colours and sizes and a few small, plastic animals - the kind you’d get in a Christmas cracker.

“Right then, this is the one I can feel it,” Dave smirks.

He presses the edge of his counter to another and it pings across the table, missing the red cup by quite a margin.

“Bollocks,” Dave grumbles, causing everyone to laugh. “Haway boys see if you can beat her. An entire pound coin is riding on this game!”

Marco grabs a small plastic spider with a weird tab sticking out of its arse. He presses his finger to the tab and the spider jumps forward, grazing the edge of the red cup before landing on the table.

“Oh, so close! C’mon Jean, see if you can get one in,” Maxine says excitedly.

I consider the options before me.

“I’ll try my luck with Mr Froggy I guess.”

I grab the green plastic frog and place it in front of me, deciding the best angle. I notice Marco and Mia sharing a smile but think nothing of it…

“JESUS!”

…Until the plastic frog flies a fucking mile and they both burst out laughing.

“Oh god I’m so sorry!”

The fucking frog has flown over to the kitchen bench and plopped right into the fucking salad bowl. I jump up and rush over to pick it out, muttering a million apologies to Gianna.

She laughs warmly, grabbing it before I get the chance. “It’s fine Jean darling don’t panic. You two!” she snaps, throwing the frog in Marco and Mia’s general direction. “You could have warned the poor boy!”

Marco gets his giggles under control and pats me on the shoulder when I sit down. “Sorry. The frog is notoriously hard to control. It always goes flying no matter how softly you try to do it.”

“And you just let me choose it without saying anything! Some friend you are,” I say shoving him in the shoulder.

“Wicked boy,” Gianna smiles, swatting Marco with a tea towel.

“He’s a menace!” I laugh. “Have you heard what he did to me when I picked him up?”

I tell the tale of Marco winding me up with his bloody suit, much to the amusement of everyone else.

“Oh Marco you are awful!” Gianna says with a laugh. “Right clear the table then. This will be ready soon. Marco darling, can you grab the bread from the oven? Mia, help me with the plates, would you sweetie?”

“Anything I can do to help?” I ask.

“No Jean darling you’re our guest! You just relax,” Gianna insists.

“Can I tempt you with some wine Jean?” Maxine asks, pouring herself a glass of red.

“Oh, yes please. Just a small one though. I’m driving.”

Plates and bowls start appearing on the table – bread fresh from the oven and oil for dipping, tomatoes and mozzarella, and something else I’m not quite sure of.

“Wow. This looks amazing. Is that hummus?”

“It’s mashed cannellini beans with garlic and a bit of lemon,” Gianna smiles. “Here, try it on some bread, it’s delicious!”

Literally everything is delicious. Marco was right about his mam being an amazing cook. And I can’t believe all this is just the starter. Everyone quietens during the first part of the meal, enjoying the food too much to bother with conversation, but it soon picks back up again when the last few bits disappear from our plates.

Dave and Maxine have plenty of questions for Marco about his new job. He gets so enthusiastic talking about all the ideas he has for his new class. It’s nice listening to him interact with Dave and Maxine – he’s clearly very fond of them and I can tell they have a lot of love for him too. They both come across as genuinely lovely people and it warms my heart to know that, despite his past, Marco has a loving family he can rely on.

“Alright dig in everyone!” Gianna smiles after presenting us with the main course – mushroom risotto.

“Mmm, wow, this is really good,” I mumble around a mouthful of heaven.

It is literally the best mushroom risotto I’ve ever tasted in my life. I’m not even that into mushroom risotto, but I would happily have this one every day of the week.

“Thank you dear! You can come back anytime,” Gianna replies with a wink.

Now I see where Marco gets his cheeky nature from.

“How’s the band going Marco?” Maxine asks after we’ve all been tucking in for a while. “Your mum was telling me you’ve had a couple of gigs.”

“Yeah, good thanks,” he says scratching his neck. “I’ve managed to remember most of the songs so far, so that’s good.”

Like hell am I gonna sit here and let him be so modest.

“He’s doing more than good. Your nephew is one seriously talented man,” I say, more to Marco than Maxine.

“A seriously talented man you say!” Maxine beams.

“He’s overexaggerating,” Marco smiles, nudging my shoulder and blushing prettily.

“I’m definitely not! None of us can believe our luck he joined. We’ve never sounded better.”

Marco’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red but I just smile. I’m only telling the truth after all.

“Aww how lovely! My clever boy,” Gianna gushes, smooching the top of his head as she gets up to grab another bottle of wine.

“Well that’s good to know…because I have a bit of a proposition for you boys,” Maxine grins. “You know your cousin Sara’s wedding is coming up? In June?”

“Yeah,” Marco replies.

“Well the band they booked for the evening have cancelled. Would you boys be interested? No pressure but I said I’d ask.”

“You guys have done weddings before right?” Marco asks, turning to me.

“Yeah, we have. They’ve always been a good laugh.”

“I’ve no idea what songs they’d like but if you send her a message on Facebook, I’m sure she’ll be happy to give you the details,” Maxine continues.

“Okay I’ll get in touch with her. What do you reckon Jean? Will Connie and Eren be interested?”

“I’m sure they would be up for it. Hey, maybe by June I’ll have finally convinced you to start singing,” I grin.

“Doubtful,” he smiles, rolling his eyes at me.

“Thank you!” Mia suddenly pipes up, gesturing at me. “See Marco, how many times have I said you should be singing?”

“He’s got a good voice, hasn’t he?” I say to Mia. Good to know I’m not the only one who’s told him so.

“Yeah! He always used to beat me on Singstar. He’s well good.”

“Oh, what was that song you used to sing so beautifully together?” Gianna ponders. “The ‘hold on for one more day’ song.”

“Ah, Wilson Phillips,” Mia answers.

“Yes! Oh I used to love it when you sang that together.”

“Well, maybe Sara will want it at the wedding if Marco’s that good!” Dave laughs.

“Listen if you heard this guy sing,” Marco says gesturing to me, “you wouldn’t be praising my singing abilities.”

I’m almost derailed by his compliment but I power through. “There’s always room for more singers in the band Marco, and we’d be daft not to make use of your voice from time to time.”

He hums, wilting under my and Mia’s staring. “I’ll think about it.”

“You bloody better,” Mia mumbles, smirking at Marco.

Gianna gets up starts clearing the table, asking Maxine a million questions about the wedding as she places our dishes in the sink. Marco makes a start on washing them and Mia soon gets up to help him dry. They speak in hushed voices as they work side by side so I can’t hear what they’re saying, but at one point Marco grabs the tea towel out of Mia’s hand and slaps her playfully on the head with it.

Then dessert starts appearing on the table – chocolate ganache with shortbread, strawberries and orange segments to share. I wasn’t sure I’d want any dessert after the filling risotto but oh man does it look good. Gianna recommends smoothing some ganache onto the shortbread and topping it with an orange segment so I go for that first.

Marco smiles when I hum contentedly. “It’s good right?”

“Sooo good.”

“I hear you’re heading off on holiday tomorrow boys,” Dave comments with a grin.

“Yeah. Our friend’s grandma is lending us her holiday cottage for the weekend,” Marco replies with a smile in my direction, making my ears prickle.

“Oh nice. Good friend to have. Just the two of you is it?” Dave beams.

“N-no,” Marco splutters turning red, which makes me turn red. Even more so when Mia tries to cover up her snort with a cough. “There’s about ten of us going.”

Marco takes a sip of water, so he doesn’t notice Maxine’s death glare or Dave bewilderedly mouthing ‘what!?’ It’s kind of funny actually, like seeing what Connie and Sasha will be like in 30 years.

“Whereabouts is the cottage you’re all staying in?” Maxine asks, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Dauper,” Marco replies.

“Ooooh lovely! Gorgeous part of the world Dauper. We’ve been a couple of times. Have you ever been Jean?”

“No. Looking forward to it though. The dark skies are meant to be great there.”

“Oh yes, the night sky is beautiful in that area! Oh Dave, what was the name of that pub? The one where you had that gorgeous trout…”

Dave and Maxine give us all their best tips for where to go and what to do. Hearing them talk about it so merrily gets me even more excited for the trip.

After practically licking my bowl clean, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I find Katniss snoozing on the landing.

“Hey baby girl!”

She indulges me in some head scritches, before sleepily rolling over for some tummy love. I slip my phone out of my pocket to snap some cheeky pics, though my desperate need to pee stops it turning into a full photo shoot. I’ve just finished up in the bathroom and cracked open the door when I hear Dave’s voice downstairs in the hall.

“Max! C’mere I can’t find it.”

A few seconds later I hear Maxine. “You never bloody can despite it being right in front of your face! There! Look! In the front pocket like I said…I’ll bloody kill you for embarrassing Marco.”

“Wha-? How’s it embarrassing to ask if you’re going on holiday with your boyfriend?”

“They’re not boyfriends!” Max whispers exasperatedly.

“I thought Gianna said they were?”

“No! They’re just friends!”

“Oh bloody hell. Put my foot right in it there then,” Dave grumbles.

“Gianna said she thought they might become boyfriends. She says Marco talks about him all the time.”

“Oh yeah, that was it…Well you can see why I thought they were already an item. They’d make a lovely couple wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah…a right handsome pair. Oh, I hope they do. Jean seems so lovely.”

I’ve literally frozen to the spot. I dare not move, or even breathe for that matter.

As if I’ve got Marco’s flesh and blood rooting for me! Holy shit!

I couldn’t help but wonder what Gianna thought when Marco let slip he talks to her about me. At worst, I thought she might be wary of me hurting him like so many others before. At best, I hoped she’d be grateful Marco had found a good friend. To hear she thinks there might be something more than friendship though…I’m just…Gyaahhh!!!

Worrying my absence might start to become suspicious, I close the bathroom door loud enough to make my presence known and head down the stairs. Dave and Max quickly hush up at the sound.

“Alright dear?” Maxine smiles.

“Just grabbing my insulin pen! Needed a bit of a top-up after helping myself to too much dessert!” Dave laughs.

I smile widely; I really can’t help it after what I’ve just heard. “Bet it was worth it though. That chocolate ganache was insane.”

“Bloody gorgeou-”

A series of giggles and a surge in volume makes us all turn our heads towards the kitchen. We share an inquisitive smirk, heading to investigate what’s so funny.

The three Bodts are dancing up a storm around the kitchen table. Marco’s toing and froing between his mam and Mia, waltzing and spinning them as they sing along to George Michael and Aretha Franklin.

Maxine and Dave both laugh and smile but my lips only twitch slightly. My smile is soft and tender as a bittersweet tug in my stomach sends warmth throughout my body. I was right when I said Connie, Eren and I were lucky to have found such a talented bassist, but the bigger truth of how lucky I am to have found Marco fills me to the brim as I watch him laugh and smile.

He looks radiant and just…impossibly beautiful.

“Show them how it’s done Maxy!”

Dave takes hold of Maxine and they begin to sway back and forth. After a few beats, they break apart and grab a hold of the nearest person – Mia and Gianna – and start dancing with them.

Emboldened by Dave and Maxine’s earlier conversation, I take a step forward and sweep into Marco’s space, my fingers slipping into his palm as I lead him in a twirl. He chuckles and returns the favour, spinning me away and pulling me back. My hand finds a hold in the dip of his waist on instinct, and I rock him side to side, not caring one little bit for the goofy grin on my face or the glowing looks I get from Marco’s family.

And then he sings and the warm fuzzies in my chest increase tenfold.

“So we were draaaawwwn tooogether through destinyyyyyy…ooh boy. Ooh!

I know this loooove weeee share was meant to beeeee. Oh!

Knew you were waiting! WooOoooh, yeah!”

The rest of his family are singing too but I the only sound I hear is him. I beam and laugh at the way he hits the high notes, doing his best over-the-top popstar impression.

“Oh, when the valley was low. No, it didn't stop meeeee, no!

Knew you were waiting! Knew you were waiting for me!”

I’m giddy when he spins me away and tugs me back into his orbit. He laughs and something flashes in his eyes when they meet mine. He pulls me close enough to meet the warmth of his torso as the song draws to a close. Our embrace only lasts for a moment, but it leaves me lightheaded and breathless. I reach out a hand to steady myself on a chair as we all break apart.

“Always knew I’d married into a family of crackerjacks!” Dave chortles, giving Mia a quick tickle on her side before sitting down. “Reckon me and Jean should run for the hills while we still have a chance!”

“I dunno,” I grin, taking my seat next to Marco. “Reckon the food is worth the craziness.”

“Ooooh you’re definitely allowed back again you little charmer!” Gianna coos, squidging my shoulders (to my absolute delight). “Phew! I need a brew after that. Shall I put a pot of tea on?”

Max helps Gianna sort out the cups and teapot while Mia and Dave start setting out the tiddlywinks again. I look at Marco with a coy smile, still a little dazed from the moment we shared.

“I promise we’re not always this mental,” he smiles quietly. “But now you know, if that song ever comes on the radio, it’s pretty much a given we’ll all drop everything and start dancing.”

“Fine by me. I love a good twirl around the kitchen now and then,” I smirk, resting my head on my hand.

It makes Marco blush for some reason, though maybe he's just flushing from all the dancing.

“Why that song?” I ask.

“Well my mum used to play it a lot when we were younger,” he starts, keeping his voice low, “but once it was the three of us, I noticed...when she played it, she started actually singing along with it. I’d never heard her sing before. So I started joining in and then eventually Mia did too and it kind of escalated from there.”

Once again, I'm in awe of Marco and his family. In awe of how they’ve found the strength to sing and laugh after everything they've endured. In awe of how much love and warmth they extend to everyone around them when they could so easily have closed themselves off. They're amazing.

“You fancy another round boys?” Dave asks, wiggling a tiddlywink in our direction. 

We stay another hour or so, sharing a few laughs and silly stories as all the delicious food settles in our stomachs.

After bidding the rest of Marco's family goodbye, his mam follows us to the door to see us out.

“You will come again won’t you Jean?”

“I’m literally booking in for every Sunday! Can’t remember the last time I was so well fed,” I reply.

“Oh you’re more than welcome dear. Thank you so much for coming.”

She pulls me into a squishy hug and then turns to Marco, pulling him down to reach her.

“Love you baby boy. Have the best time this weekend okay? You deserve it sweetheart.”

“Love you. I will, don’t worry,” he says with a sleepy smile, resting his head on her shoulder a moment.

Too cute.

“Drive safe Jean okay?” Gianna smiles.

“I will. Gotta get this precious cargo there in one piece,” I grin, giving Marco a playful squeeze on the shoulders.

I run around to the driver’s side as Marco slumps into the passenger seat. We bid Gianna another farewell and pull out into the road. Marco settles back with a contented sigh, gazing sleepily out the window.

“...I really like your family,” I say after a moment.

Marco's gaze jerks towards me, a look of surprise on his face, but it quickly softens into a smile.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I like them too.”

“I can't believe how much your Aunty Max looks like your mam!”

“I know. Apparently they'd always get mistaken for twins when they were kids.”

Marco tells me more about his aunty and uncle during the drive; the shenanigans Dave gets up to at family parties and the jumpers Max makes for them every Christmas.

We pull up outside Marco’s much sooner than I would like. Luckily he doesn't seem to notice, continuing his story about the time Dave ended up in A&E, after losing a fight with a goose that took a disliking to him.

We giggle and laugh with our heads resting against the back of our seats, our general sleepiness starting to take over.

He looks over at the front door and sighs. “Guess I should head in,” he says with a sad smile, unbuckling his seat belt. “Thanks again for the lift.”

“Anytime.”

I pause. Secretly hoping he invites me in to hang out. I know he won't though. It's late and we've got a long drive tomorrow...Still though.

“So erm, d'you..?” he starts and I hold my breath.

“Do you...still wanna pick us up at eleven tomorrow?”

“Oh. Erm...yeah 'course. Eleven still works for me.”

I make a point of ignoring the disappointment I feel in the pit of my stomach.

“Okay cool,” he says climbing out of the car. It feels like he has something else to say. “See you tomorrow then. Drive home safe.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” I reply, trying to work out what expression I can see in his features, but it changes into a sweet smile before I get the chance.

He turns with a wave of his hand and I release a pent-up breath. My chest and stomach twist as I watch him head inside. It's not exactly an unpleasant feeling though.

I replay so many parts of this evening in my head on the drive home, but when my head finally hits the pillow, it's the voice of Dave that sends me to sleep with a smile.

'They'd make a lovely couple wouldn’t they?'

_________________________________

Connie helps me load up the car before waving me off (with an actual fucking hanky he got from god knows where) with an obnoxiously loud 'Farewell my beloved!'

Due to a couple of other people booking time off, there was absolutely no way Connie could get away from work before 8pm tonight, so he's joining us later. I feel bad knowing he’ll be on his own for the journey. I would have offered to go with him but that would have meant making Eren and Marco late too and it seemed silly not to make the most of our stay.

I park my car outside Eren and Marco’s and give the horn a quick toot, rolling the window down so I can lean on my elbow while I wait. My phone beeps after less than a minute. I’m expecting something silly from Marco but it’s from Eren.

Jaegermeister:

Good fucking luck

What the hell?

HeresJeany:

???????

Jaegermeister:

>:-)

Before I tap out another reply, the front door opens and the meaning behind Eren’s message becomes all too clear.

“Morning!” Marco says cheerfully.

He’s got his hair tied back again. A few wavy tendrils are escaping from where it’s loosely pulled back…It looks really fucking good.

“Hey you,” I smile, not really bothering to hide the affection in my tone.

“Good morning my favourite douche!” Eren squawks obnoxiously, appearing behind Marco with a shit-eating grin.

“Your smelly ass needs one!”

My reply doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

“You doing alright?” he asks with a knowing smirk I’m glad Marco can’t see.

I decide to ignore him, jumping out of the car to open the boot for Marco.

After loading up their bags, I connect my phone to the car stereo. It takes nearly three hours to get to Dauper, but the music I've put together for the journey is a veritable 90s/00s wet dream of a playlist so we’re in for a good time.

Marco catches my eye and smiles as he recognises the opening bars of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys surging through the speakers. I smirk back before checking on Eren.

"We all clunk-clicked back there?"

"Yes Mam."

"Right let's go then."

After our rendezvous with everyone at Sasha’s, we head off – Mikasa taking Sasha, Armin and Historia in one car with Bert and Reiner in the other. The busy streets of Trost gradually fall away as we make our way to the motorway. There's a buzz in the car that affirms just how excited we all are for the trip. Between sing-alongs, taking the piss out of shitty drivers and sniggering at weird place names, the journey goes by quickly. Even the heavy rain we hit half an hour in doesn’t dampen our spirits.

Marco is especially animated, twisting in his seat to laugh and joke or reaching forward to turn the music up every time of one his favourites comes on (which is often!). The whole car vibrates when Goon Squad by Deftones gets turned up a notch and we all sing (scream) the lyrics as we clear the last of the rain clouds.

“I feel like ‘Goon Squad’ would be a good name for us if we ever decide to become vigilantes and fight crime,” Eren says as the next song starts and we catch our breath.

“Maybe for you two,” I tease. “I think Captain Kirschtein and the Goon Squad sounds better though.”

“You fucking wish.”

“Hmm, I don’t think I know this one,” Marco says nodding at the stereo.

I cock an eyebrow at him as the persistent riff of Good Morning, Captain starts up again. “How can a total 90s dweeb like you not know Slint?”

He looks at me blankly. “Slint?”

“Oh my god. Spiderland? Are you kidding me?? Right, you need to listen to this song.”

Eren starts babbling away to Marco about the album and how the band originally wanted it to be instrumental, that is until I turn and smack him on the leg.

“Okay OW!”

“Well fucking shut up! You can tell him when the song’s over!”

Crashing cymbals and guttural guitars fill the car as Marco taps out the rhythm on his knee. When the song reaches its crescendo, he looks over at me.

“Oh man, I think I have a new band boner!”

I laugh, because it’s obviously a joke, but he says it with such a salacious grin that I blurt out, “Wait, seriously?”

All he does in reply is stick his tongue between his teeth and waggle his eyebrows at me.

Shit that’s hot.

I cover how flustered it makes me with a chuckle and focus on the road. My imagination starts running wild though, and I can’t help the way my gaze slides over to Marco’s crotch just to have a cheeky look.

“Saw that.”

My eyes snap up to Eren in the mirror.

“Saw what?” Marco asks, thankfully oblivious.

“You didn’t see shit Jaeger.”

He chuckles, very obviously pleased with catching me red-handed.

Despite all the singing and chatting, Eren still manages to conk out about two hours into the journey. Never in my life have I known this guy stay awake on a long car trip.

“Oh, man down,” Marco smiles quietly looking back at Eren.

My eyes flit up to the mirror and I see his reflection; slumped down into his hoody and gently rocking with the car’s movement. I turn the music down a little. I don’t really need to – Eren could sleep through the apocalypse – but Marco’s hushed voice makes me feel like I should.

After a few songs, I notice Marco glancing at me out of the corner of my eye, his mouth opening and closing as if he wants to say something. Eventually he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey I meant to ask…” he trails off, looking oddly awkward all of a sudden.

“Yeah?”

He scratches his neck and looks out of his window instead of at me.

“I know you and Connie are roomies but…I figured he might be sharing with Sasha so…I was thinking it might be nice if - I mean I don't know what the sleeping arrangements are at this place but," his eyes flit over to me as he babbles and stutters. "Do you...do you maybewannasharearoomwithme?”

Ba-dump.

I’ve thought about it. Obviously I've thought about where I might be sleeping - where he might be sleeping - but I figured people would just pair off when we got there and that Eren would somehow wingman me to make sure I share with Marco.

What I didn't think about was Marco just coming straight out and asking me!

Shit. How do I answer this without completely giving myself away or making it weird?

“E-Err,” I stammer, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“We don't have to!" he backtracks when I fail to answer. “If you've already arranged something with Eren or Armin or whoev-”

My determination not to screw this up brings confidence surging back to my voice in an instant. If he’s got the guts to ask me, there’s no way I’m going to ruin it by losing my cool.

“We can share a room.”

“…Yeah?” Marco asks with a slight tone of disbelief.

“Yeah ‘course we can share a room. It'll be fun,” I add with a big smile to show him I’m not just being polite.

“Okay...cool,” Marco replies.

The way he ducks his head to hide his own smile and blush makes me giddy, though that feeling is definitely coupled with weird mixture of nervousness and anticipation. My stomach starts flipping at the thought of what might be whispered and confessed in the dark, when we're wrapped in soft blankets and sleepiness has lifted our filters…

Then a short but incredibly loud snort from Eren snaps me back to the present. Marco and I both lock eyes before breaking into hysterics.

“What the hell!?” I laugh, with Marco wheezing beside me.

“Huh? Wha?” Eren murmurs, squinting at us with sleepy eyes and wiping the drool from his chin.

_________________________________

By late afternoon we reach Dauper. After staying within close range of each other on the motorway, we all manage to take the exit at the same time and follow Sasha’s car as it weaves its way along the narrow, grass-lined roads.

The higher we climb, the more beautiful the scenery becomes. The houses become less frequent and older in style, broken up by farmers’ fields, rolling hills and the occasional mill.

“Deer! Oh my god there’s deer in that field!” Marco says excitedly, causing Eren to press his face up at the window and gawk.

There’s so much wildlife here. Aside from the deer we also spot a huge flock of geese flying in a V-formation above us, a fox zipping across a field and we narrowly miss hitting a pheasant that thought it was a good idea to stand in the middle of the road.

After a couple of tight turns and an awkward encounter with a tractor, we pull onto the cobbled lane with the cottage at the end. The car judders and wobbles as we follow Sasha, with Bert and Reiner behind us. Eventually, we stop outside a stone building with blue pastel windows and a yellow door.

“Wow. This looks nice,” Marco says with bright eyes after we climb out of the car.

It really does.

Armin gasps from the open door of Sasha’s car, looking at the driveway. “How am I going to get to the door? My Vans are going to get ruined!”

The rain stopped over an hour ago, but it must’ve been especially heavy in Dauper if the puddles around us are anything to go by. My eyes travel down Armin’s all-black outfit to the new lilac Vans on their feet. Yep. Those kicks are gonna be fucked.

Marco chuckles beside me and asks, “Why are you wearing them for a trip to the countryside? I thought you were smart!”

“Typical bloody PhD student – all those brains and no common sense,” Eren grumbles heading in Armin’s direction.

“I’ve got sensible clothes in my bag! I just wanted to be comfy for the journey. Plus their cute as fuck,” Armin adds with a cheeky grin that makes me smile.

“Alright c’mere princess.”

Eren sweeps Armin off their feet, earning a loud laugh from Sasha and a whoop from Historia.

“Eren!” Armin cries with a smile.

“Do you want your shoes to get muddy or not?” He starts heading to the door and calls over his shoulder, “Can someone get my bags? Hands are a bit full of idiot here!”

“Yeah I got ‘em,” I laugh, bending over my seat to reach into the back.

When I straighten up, I feel eyes on me and turn to see Marco, a red blush blooming on his face as he quickly looks down.

Erm…?

“H-here, let me take the guitars for you,” he says reaching out his hand, still not meeting my eyes.

“Oh, thanks.”

Was he…was he checking me out just now??

I walk around to the open boot, purposely (and unnecessarily) bending over again to get my own guitar.

“You threatening us with a good time Kirschtein?” Reiner barks behind us, laughing as he walks past with Bert in tow.

“You wish!” I yell as I dig around in the boot.

I look back at Marco with a sly grin, straightening up to give him mine and Eren’s guitars, but keeping my back arched so my ass sticks out.

“Here you go,” I say, my tongue poking slightly between my teeth.

“Thanks,” he replies, ducking his head with a smirk, the blush on his cheeks intensifying.

Excitement sparks through me as I watch him walk away. As if I just flirted with him! And he didn’t seem to mind!

I follow him along the yellow gravel path, lined with daisies and bluebells. The back door opens straight onto the kitchen, which is an impressive mix of exposed stone, patterned tiles and rich blue cabinets. My eyes follow the old, wooden beams across the ceiling, down to a large dining table at the opposite end.

“Woah. This place is stunning!” Marco chirps, turning in a slow circle as he takes it all in.

Cute.

He cranes his head to look up the staircase beside the back door.

“Should we put our bags in a room or-”

“Guys come see how cosy the living room is!” Armin yells, appearing in the doorway opposite us.

They reach forward and grab Marco’s hand before we’ve even had a chance to reply, dragging him through the door. I follow them both with a smile.

Wow. It certainly is cosy in here, though way bigger than I was expecting; they must have knocked down a wall down at some point. There are rugs all over the floor, cushions and throws all over the furniture and bookshelves all over the walls. Aside from the TV mounted on the wall, everything has a comforting, old-timey feel to it. The beams across the ceiling match the ones in the kitchen, but there’s no exposed stone from what I can see. Instead, a rich navy colour covers the walls.

Everyone’s in the living room now, except Sasha, but she soon makes her presence known.

“Hey guys?” she calls from the kitchen.

“Yeaaah?” a few of us reply.

She appears in the doorway with a look that spells ‘trouble’.

“Bedrooms are first come first serve and I may have forgot to mention, some are waaay nicer than others…Bagsie the master bedroom!” she cries racing off.

Everyone silently glances at each other before bursting into action. There’s a massive crush as we all try to fit through the doorway at once. Thankfully I hadn’t sat down yet so I get through quickly, heading for the staircase just ahead of everyone else.

I’ll get us a good room Marco don’t you wor- “Ahh!!”

Someone pulls my ankle and I land flat on the stairs. I look up to see Mikasa long-jumping over me and racing up the rest of the steps.

“Go Kasa!” Armin shouts somewhere behind me.

I try to get my legs back under me before I’m trampled. Luckily, the next thing I feel is a pair of warm hands hooking under my arms and lifting me up.

“Man down!” Marco laughs. “C’mon Jean we can do thi- Ahhh!”

Marco collapses on top of me as Eren scrambles over both of us.

“Eren! You fucking tool! Mikasa’s already won you a room!” I squawk.

Someone else tries to get passed us but Marco gets up before they manage it.

“Not so fast Bertie boy!” Marco cries, blocking Bert’s path. “Go on Jean! Go!”

I leave Marco to wrestle the giant and hop up the rest of the stairs two at a time. I dive left but quickly back up when I see the bunk beds against the wall – No fucking thank you! Footsteps thunder up the stairs so I take my chances with the first room on the right.

Oh thank fuck.

I hop up onto the double bed, claiming it as my own and more than willing to fight if anyone tries to take it from me.

Bert sticks his head in the door muttering a quick ‘shit’ when he sees me sitting on the bed. There’s a commotion further down hall. I really want to go look when I hear Sasha screaming ‘Mikasa! Put me down!’ but I dare not leave my spot.

“Bunk beds!? No fucking thank you!” Historia’s voice. I have an awful feeling about where this is going. “Haha! Give it up Kirschtein! This room is mine!”

She runs towards me, with a manic grin, trying to grab my legs so she can pull me off.

“No no no! Marco! Help!”

Historia and I both laugh and giggle as she tries to get a hold on me. I keep her at bay with the two pillows I’ve grabbed, just long enough for Marco to come in and save the day.

“Waahhh!”

Distracted by our battle for the bed, she doesn’t realise Marco’s behind her until he’s lifting her up over his shoulder.

“Oh no you don’t!” he laughs carrying her out as her little legs wiggle and kick.

He plops her on the floor, runs back inside and closes the door. I hop over to join him, both of us laughing as we brace ourselves, ready for someone to push it open. Luckily no one does and we slump down to the floor after a minute or two, our faces flushed from all the excitement.

“Seems like we’re safe for now,” I smile, leaning my head against the door.

“Yeah,” Marco replies taking in his surroundings. “Hey this room is pretty nice. Good job.”

It is now that I look at it. It’s not super big and the window doesn’t let much light in, but the peachy paint, wall tapestries and salt lamps create a really snug, mellow vibe.

“Aw look, they’re cute,” Marco says pointing up.

I smile at his reaction, looking up to see a dozen little crochet plant pots hanging from a wooden beam, woven flowers sitting inside each one. They do look very sweet all dangling there above the bed.

“My grandma used to crochet stuff for me, when she was alive,” I smile.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head to look at me.

“Yeah, lots of bonnets when I was a baby, then toys. She was really good at animals. I had a whole farmyard at one point. My favourite was Buchwald the horse.”

“Buchwald?” Marco laughs, his breath tickling my cheek.

“Yeah, she was half German and she often gave them German names. His mane was really cool. It was made of this thick but super soft wool or something. I used to like running my fingers through it.”

“Oh I had a toy I used to do that with! Mine was a lion though. Rory - you know because…lions roar.”

An unattractive snort escapes me and he chuckles softly, his eyes not just looking at me, but seeming to take in my whole face. I wish I had the willpower to stay where I am, but I get a little flustered at our close proximity and get up, grabbing one of the cushions and a throw that’s fallen off the bed as I go.

“You reckon it’s safe to get our bags now?” he asks.

“Maybe, don’t let your guard down completely though. Hey Marco, look at this.”

I’d never even heard of this book until Marco gave it to me so I don’t know what the chances are of finding another copy here of all places but there it is – What we see in the stars – the book Marco gifted me after our visit to Trost museum, sitting on the stone windowsill.

“Oh wow!” Marco says when he sees what I’m holding.

Butterflies start flipping in my stomach. He reaches out and I swear I feel it hum with energy or some shit when he takes it from me. My pulse quickens. He holds it with a soft smile, glancing at the other star themed trinkets on the windowsill.

“Weird. It’s like we were meant to have this room,” he says with an awkward laugh.

Asddfghhjkl!! I was thinking it, but I didn’t think he’d actually fucking say it!

I nervously laugh too, my face turning crimson.

“Haha, yeah. Maybe it’s a good omen for some stargazing tonight.”

Then as if to say, ‘we’ll see about that’ Mother Nature decides to fuck me over – the gentle pitter-patter outside turns into a downpour, hammering against the window.

“Well fuck.”

“Yeah. Looks like we’re staying in tonight.”

_________________________________

After unpacking, nobody is in the mood to brave the rain for the sake of the pub, so we decide to have a night in; everyone’s brought some food for a buffet anyway. I have a quick shower, stick my comfy clothes on and then head downstairs to join everyone.

Eren and Armin are gathered around the woodburning fireplace, constructing a pile of logs and kindling. There’s a spot on the sofa next to Marco with my name on it. I sit next to him with a smile and a sigh, sinking into the plush green velvet.

“Do you guys even know what you’re doing?” Historia asks, looking rather regal sitting in a Chesterfield wingback chair.

“Well, I’m a man so I assume it’s in my DNA somewhere,” Eren smirks, knowing fine well he’s going to wind Historia up with that comment.

“That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard! Penises are not valid qualifications for fire building!” she protests.

“What about penises?” Reiner grins suddenly appearing in the doorway, earning a very big eyeroll from me.

“Yes!” Eren cries when the tiniest of fires flickers into existence, both arms in the air. “AND JESUS WEPT! FOR MAN HAD CREATED FIRE!” It flickers out the moment he stops speaking. “…Shit.”

Historia is beside herself, hanging over the arm of the chair and cackling at Eren’s disappointed face.

“Well you bloody have a go then!” he snaps.

“I’ve never lit a fire before and I’m not arrogant enough to just assume I can,” Historia snaps back.

“Maybe there’s a book somewhere explaining how to do it,” Armin suggests.

“Min we are NOT reading a book to find out how to do something as basic as light a fire,” Eren says with a huff.

Reiner and Bert opt for the biggest armchair, the shorter pulling the other one into his lap and twining their legs together.

“Thanks again for switching Historia,” Bert smiles.

“No worries. Though I’m sad I won’t get to see one of you trying to fit into that top bunk.”

“You’re too nice Historia. I’d have paid good money to see Bert sleeping in that with his big legs hanging off the end,” Marco smirks.

“Glad we didn’t come begging to you then,” Reiner says, throwing a cushion at Marco.

Once Eren and Armin (though mainly Mikasa) finally get the fire going we help out with food and before long, there are all kinds of tasty things to pick at on the dining table. Although not everything makes it there (Sasha insists on ‘testing’ everything before we lay it out). The homemade stuff looks especially good – some bread from Armin, a chickpea dahl from Historia and a pasta salad courtesy of Marco’s mam.

After everyone’s first plateful, we decide to dig out some board games for the evening’s entertainment. Though it takes us a while to agree on which one to play.

“We’ve got to play Monopoly,” states Armin. “It’s a classic!”

“Yeah, no. I’d rather not stay up until 4am mortgaging all my properties because you’ve somehow fucked me over again,” Eren glares.

“Let’s split into teams and start with something simple,” suggests Sasha. “Ooh! And whichever team wins the most games gets to snuggle Maggie!” she grins, grabbing a tiny highland cow from a nearby shelf and holding it aloft like a scene from the Lion King.

After a game of Boggle descends into ‘which team can make the dirtiest words’, we play an insanely intense game of Jenga, followed by a much less stress-inducing game of Pictionary. Whatever we play though, Marco and I have an absolute ball. Everything seems to make us laugh way more than usual and our desire to team up for everything creates lots of opportunities for playful touch. At one point, when he wins us a wedge in Trivial Pursuit, I squeeze his arm for a ‘well done’ and he boops me on the nose.

Cue me melting into a puddle on the rug.

By the time most of the buffet has gone, each team has one win a piece, so Eren demands a game of strip poker to decide the overall winner.

“Okay hands up who actually knows how to play poker,” Historia asks with an eyeroll in Eren’s direction.

Only Eren and Reiner put their hands up.

“Okay fine, fucking…Strip Go Fish then!” Eren smiles.

It’s such a ridiculous idea that we all agree to give it a go. However, we all quickly catch on to the fact that we’re all targeting Eren. By the time everyone’s had their first turn, he’s lost both socks and his t-shirt.

“Hey Eren, got any threes?” I grin.

“No! Go fucking fish bitch!”

I curse and pick up a card.

“Hey Eren?”

“For fucksake Marco.”

“Got any Jacks?”

“Fucking hell. YES,” he grouses, causing everyone to break into hysterics again as he shimmies out of his jeans and sits huffily in just his underwear. “Right my fucking turn. Sasha, you got any sixes?”

“Ugh. Yes,” Sasha grouses handing them over. “Da-da da daaaah! DA-da da daaaah…” she sings while seductively taking off her sock.

Reiner’s turn.

“Hey Eren?”

“Jesus Christ no.”

“You got any…aces?”

“…Oh you absolute anus face.”

Everyone simultaneously cheers and screeches with laughter, knowing Eren has no choice but to get naked.

“Why are you all so desperate to see me naked!?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mikasa deadpans. “Serves you right for suggesting it.”

“C’mon Eren! Time to show us the goods!

“Off! Off! Off! Off!”

We all tap a drumroll on our legs as Eren reaches into his underwear to cup his junk with one hand and pulls them down with the other. When they reach the floor, the sound we make is deafening – Thank fuck there are no neighbours to worry about!

He sits down with a shit-eating grin. “Well at least you can’t all pick on me anymore.”

We continue the game until Sasha notices a set of headlights moving past the window – Connie is finally here. She gets up to meet him and returns moments later with a seriously tired looking Connie trailing behind her.

“Hey!” We all say, greeting him almost in unison.

“Hey!...Why the fuck is Eren naked?”

That sets us all off laughing again but we eventually compose ourselves enough to fill Connie in on all the details. Sasha offers to show Connie where he’s staying and we decide to give up on Go Fish, letting Eren put his clothes back on. Armin and Historia offer to make everyone a hot chocolate and we all settle into various cosy spots around the room.

I sneak a peek out the window for the hundredth time that evening. The rain has stopped but it’s still overcast. Not one fucking star in the sky.

Marco must sense my frustration when I sit down next to him with a huff.

"Still cloudy huh?"

"Yeah. Not even a patch of sky on show."

He taps at his phone. "Weather's meant to get better. Maybe we'll get lucky with the sky tomorrow night."

"Yeah I hope so. It would be shit to come out here and not see a single fucking star.” I look up to find Marco smiling at me. “Though I guess, there are other good things about being here.”

His eyes twinkle and there’s a pause - probably just a second but it feels like much longer.

“The hot chocolate?” he smiles cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes the hot chocolate, definitely the hot chocolate.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah.”

“Mmmhmm.”

We jostle each other in the shoulder with a giggle.

“Here you go!” Armin appears with two steaming mugs for us.

They beam at me when I take mine and I can’t help but smile back. It can’t all be in my head if Armin’s noticed too. Things between Marco and I have definitely shifted. Only ever so slightly, but enough to make my heart skip a beat at the possibilities of what it could mean…

Blushing, I take a sip of my drink and smile. Marco does the same before covering his mouth for a big yawn.

God, he looks so cute when his eyes get all scrunched up like that.

“You doing okay there sleeping beauty?”

Another yawn hits him straight after the first making me snort.

“Oof. Yeah sorry. I think this week’s catching up with me. I didn’t sleep too well the night before my interview and I’m still feeling it.”

“Aw. Don’t force yourself to stay up. No-one will mind if you wanna head off to bed.”

“Yeah I know but” - another big yawn cuts him off – “I don’t really want to…I’m having a good time.”

His sleepy eyes find mine and he smiles, so so softly…I can hardly bare to look at him but I’m powerless to stop.

If I kissed him right now, he’d taste of hot chocolate.

He looks down at his drink and takes a nice long sip. After setting his mug down he pulls out his hair tie and cards his fingers through his roots, shaking out his wavy tendrils, and then leans his head back against the sofa with a contented sigh.

It’s not even fair how gorgeous he looked doing that.

I shuffle along and close the tiny gap between our sides. Marco, understanding my intention, lets his head fall to my shoulder. He snuggles his cheek against the fabric of my t-shirt and settles down with a deep exhale.

I’ve just closed my eyes to enjoy the moment when Historia clears her throat, catching everyone’s attention.

“Soooo…anyone else noticed Sasha still hasn’t come back?”

“Oh?...Oh! Yeah, you’re right,” Eren answers.

We all share a moment of squeeing like excited schoolgirls, everyone sharing the hope that Sasha and Connie might finally become official. I feel relieved knowing Mikasa and Historia feel the same way. Sasha must have said something to them about wanting things to go in that direction.

After another half hour or so, the warmth of the hot chocolate starts to make everyone pretty sleepy so we all decide to get ready for bed. Marco grumbles when I nudge him awake from his doze, but his face immediately softens when he remembers where he is.

“C’mon buddy. Bedtime.”

I let Marco brush his teeth and use the bathroom first, and by the time I return he’s flat out asleep.

Doing my best not to disturb him, I climb under the covers and lie on my side facing him. I remember the last time we slept in the same bed and how nervous I felt. I remember how simultaneously over-the-moon and terrified I was. How my heart pounded in my chest.

This time I feel completely at peace. I let a goofy grin take over my face and breathe with Marco, watching his peaceful face with every inhale and exhale. I brush his hair out of his face and marvel at how steady my movements are, how unbothered I am by the prospect of him waking up and catching me. My eyes start to soften as I think about waking up next to him tomorrow and how much I’m looking forward to it…

_________________________________

“Jean…Hey Jean.”

There’s a warm hand on my arm, switching between stroking my skin and gently rocking me.

“Jean wake up,” the soft voice continues…Marco’s voice…and Marco’s fingers brushing my hair off my forehead.

“Hmm?” I scrunch up my eyes and roll over.

“Hey, you awake?”

“Y-yeah,” I manage, blinking my eyes until they adjust.

Marco’s sitting beside me on the bed, looking over me.

“What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Yeah sorry to wake you, it’s just…I just got up to pee and noticed the clouds have gone. You wanna go look at the stars?”

“Oh, erm,” it takes me a moment to process his words, but excitement sparks through me when my brain finally catches up. “Yeah definitely. Just err, gimme a sec to get changed.”

We shuffle about in the dark as we try to find our warmer clothes, the odd whispered giggle filling the silence when we inevitably bump into furniture or each other. Once we’re wrapped up nice and warm, I creak the bedroom door open, and we sneak downstairs as quietly as possible. I chance a look out the kitchen window when we reach the backdoor and see a starry patch of sky between the outline of two trees. My breath hitches in anticipation as I feel around for the torch hanging by the door frame.

“Marco, do me a favour,” I whisper, turning to him.

“Hmm?”

“Don't look up until I say so. Trust me it will be way better.”

“Alright.” I hear rather than see his smile.

“Okay let's go.”

The latch makes a soft click as I open the door and, thankfully, the hinges don’t squeak when I swing it open.

Cold air greets us, carrying that unique scent of rain, soil and pine needles you only ever get on a rainy day in the countryside. We step over the threshold and follow the light of my torch.

“Eep!” There's a loud crunch in the gravel as Marco grabs my shoulder. “I can't see where the dips are!” he giggles in a hushed voice.

“Here you numpty, hold my hand.”

Our palms slot together and I almost have to pinch myself over how warm and comforting and right they feel. I squeeze Marco’s hand as I tug him forward, navigating around the puddles until we reach the narrow road. There are less trees to block the view a few yards further down – the perfect viewing spot.

“We can just walk in a straight line from here so I’m gonna turn the torch off. Remember not to look up yet though.”

“Okay,” he replies giving my hand a quick squeeze.

I pocket the torch and wait a few seconds for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once I can make out my feet next to the grassy verge, I start walking.

“Hoo-hoo.”

“Aah!”

An owl flapping and hooting makes us both jump out of our skin and we grab each other, wheezing and giggling like a couple of idiots.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Marco whisper-shouts. “What the hell?”

“C-come on,” I laugh. “It’s not much further.”

This time I lace our fingers together, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand as I pull us further into the darkness. I feel his thumb do the same.

“Okay this should do. You ready?” I ask bouncing a little on the balls of my feet.

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles.

“Okay…look up.”

A sharp intake of breath punctuates the night air as we gasp at the sight before us. A canopy of lights, each unique in their depth and glow, consumes the sky above our heads.

“Oh my g-god.”

“I know.”

I will never get over this view. Never. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen it before; the sheer depth of the universe always knocks me for six. All this beautiful light filling the sky, despite having started its journey thousands, or even millions of years ago. It’s as if the starlight has travelled just for us, to create this perfect moment. I squeeze Marco’s hand tightly as I start to recognise some familiar sparkles.

“Look, you see that bright star there?” I ask, leaning into his space and pointing at the sky. “That’s Rigel. It’s the bottom of my favourite constellation Orion. See there, that’s Orion’s belt.”

“Oh yeah! Is that reddish one part of Orion?”

“Yeah that’s Betelgeuse! It’s a collapsing star! Oh and can you see those ones next to it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That’s the constellation Gemini – that super bright star at the head of it is called Pollux. Oh, and that zigzagging cluster is Cassiopeia. And then if you go further up you can see the big dipper. It’s the one that’s kind of shaped like-”

I stop when I realise Marco’s gaze is no longer following the end of my finger. A million galaxies shine above his head but he’s looking at me. I can see them all reflected in his eyes, just like that time in the planetarium except even more breathtakingly beautiful. His thumb starts stroking my hand again as he takes a step closer.

“Jean…”

“…Yeah?”

His other hand moves to my waist and I forget how to breathe.

He closes the gap between us, so much so that I feel his breath tickle my skin…and then his lips touch mine.

It’s brief, barely even a peck before he draws back a fraction, only a whisper of space between us. He releases a shallow breath. My heart yammers in my chest. A heavy second passes between us, but then, when I squeeze his hand and start stroking his knuckles, he leans forward and finds my lips again.

The grip he has on my waist tightens as he untangles our fingers and holds the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. My own hands snake over his back, holding him just as tightly as I tilt my head and melt against his soft lips.

And then his tongue finds mine and I die on the spot.

Oh my god. I’m kissing him. I’m kissing Marco. I’M KISSING MARCO!

AND. I. CANNOT. GET. ENOUGH.

I feel overwhelmed and utterly insatiable all at once. Like, I know I’m kissing him, but I wish I was kissing him more somehow. I’m kissing him and I wish I was kissing him and I never want to stop kissing him…

…But he stops kissing me.

“Jean, wait I’m sorry I can’t…I don’t know if…I don’t know if I…”

I freeze.

“I mean…I want to kiss you, but…I can’t do this if it’s just a one-time thing okay? I don’t…I don’t want this to be something casual that we joke about at the next band practice like it was nothing. I-I…I like you, okay? I’ve liked you for a long time…longer than I should have…”

Fuck.

This is it. This is the moment. These are the words I’ve been longing to hear but never dared to believe I actually would. Holy fuck! But…the way he said them…

He doesn’t know. How can he not know?

How can he not know how much he means to me? How can he not know how much affection floods my body when I look at him? How I have to remind myself to breathe when he touches me. How my heart scorches me from the inside out every time we’ve ever said goodbye.

“J-Jean?” His voice breaks and my heart breaks with it.

I step forward and reach for his hands on instinct. There’s still a warmth to them, despite the chilly night air.

I’ve rehearsed this fantasy a thousand times in my head, but nothing prepares me for the real thing. I don’t know where to begin, whether it’s even possible to make him understand the depth of my adoration.

He squeezes my fingers ever so slightly, like he’s scared anything more might break me, but his delicate touch is all the courage I need to start speaking.

“Marco…you were never a ‘one-time’ option for me.”

His breath hitches, eyes sparkling as he lifts his head to look at me again.

“I like you too okay? Like, A LOT. I think…I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and I you’re my favourite person to spend time with, but it’s been getting harder and harder because of how much I want to touch you all the time and kiss you and stroke your hair and-”

I puff out a breath and gather my thoughts. The darkness makes it easier to say what I want to say.

“I don’t want this to be a ‘one-time’ thing either. I want…I want everything with you.”

He steps forward, kisses me again and all the stars above our heads turn supernova.

[candysdoodles]

Bertholdt and Reiner in a medieval fantasy AU. I made this fanart for @reibertdaily 's reibert week challenge on instagram. Here is the link

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Reiner and Bertholdt 🧡💙 (@reibertdaily)

I really love medieval fantasy so it was really fun to do this fanart ^^

[reibert-brainrot]

ReiBert week has begun!!

Super sorry for being late, I meant to post this earlier this week and thats my fault cause now its day 2 and I slacked off.

SO HUGE REMINDER I'll still reblog any of the posts that are posted after the week is finished so don't worry if you are late and have to make up any days, it's supposed to be fun!! Day 1 prompts

Day 2 prompts

[reibertzine]

⛺ [Reibert Zine Weekly Poll - Week 1 of 2]

"An Arranged Date" - Reiner & Bertholdt receive a letter from <??> on two separate occasions.

The letter asks to meet them at <??> to take care of some business...

👉 Vote on twitter on what you think the <??> question marks should be and follow this post to see the results next week!

-

🎨Comissioned artwork by Sawa_in_Space@Instagram

[sailorspica]

it’s 5am and i can’t sleep so my mind has turned to wondering: where the hell were jean and annie finding the time to bleach their hair in the middle of like world-ending chaos???? jean and levi had their perfectly maintained undercuts and annie had her platinum blonde hair 😭😭😭😭😭 i know it’s probably her natural blonde but she’s the only blonde is the series with that shade and it’s significantly funnier to me to imagine her letting hitch do a bleach and tone immediately before she went out to kill the levi squad 😭

okay, having giffed WIT and mappa annie and reiner several times, i think they pass for siblings, but you know who else has identical hair color? jean and hitch. this also begs the question of if any shifter used like, overtone or hair chalk, would their titans also get it? i guess it's like clothes—it's not as if the beast titan gets giant glasses—but the thought of the female titan with the Lover pastel bi ends is sending me

i've seen so much fruity fanart of levi and erwin shaving each other and touching up their undercuts with straight 😏 razors, so i think soldiers in general/anyone in close quarters like that all cut each other's hair—mikasa chopped hers off night one, so she might have asked for help or been offered a hand in the girls' barracks, yk? in my little heart, EMA probably spent the previous two years as refugees cutting each other's hair, so why would they stop? and the same goes for RBA, or at least reibert. i think the cadet boys would have fun shaving connie's head all the damn time and would surely inflict bad haircuts on each other on purpose until shadis put the fear of god in them (his own bald head).

eren and jean Certainly had some incident early on—say, eren was cutting jean's hair, doing well, and jean was like, "i'll return the favor" and eren went, "that's okay, mikasa just trimmed it last week," et cetera. come disbandment time and quickly joining squad levi, i headcanon the scouts are all so close that atp who Hasn't shorn connie, and in a pinch (idk, if hange is busy) the kids also cut levi's hair

it's also SO funny that jean hates marlowe's bowl cut, but i just made myself deeply sad with the thought that jean grew his hair out in the time skip because idk, in the three months marlowe was a scout they enabled each other, or something. idk

[midori-moonflaw]

Reibert Week 2023, Day 1: Canonverse/Training Days/Secret

Decided to do a little thing for this event! Early morning on Wall Maria ft. Zeke