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pickalilywrites · 1 month

Note

Levi plans to asks out Petra for Valentines day, but Zeke beats him to it. Feeling upset by it, he stays in, but receives a call from Petra herself asking if she could come over after a terrible date with Zeke.

last one. thanks for waiting :)

right here waiting

rivetra. high school au. 2689 words

Once again, Levi misses the entrance to “Wings of Freedom,” a song he and his friends have rehearsed at least a hundred times by now. He knows the song by heart, but he keeps coming in half a beat early because his mind is elsewhere. Mike and Hanji are about to keep going, but Levi makes a rewinding gesture with his finger to signal them to go back to the beginning even though this is the fifth time tonight he’s messed up the beginning. This isn’t even the first song Levi’s messed up. They’ve been at it for an hour already and the entrances that Levi hasn’t missed have been sung with flat notes and were completely void of feeling. At this latest mistake, Mike and Hanji exchange looks.

Rather than strumming the opening chords once more, Hanji tucks their pick into the strings of their guitar. “Do you want to take a break, Levi? You seem kind of out of it. It’s not like we don’t practice every other day. We could take tonight off,” they suggest.

“I’m not out of it. I’m fine,” Levi snaps perhaps more harshly than he intended based on the eyebrow that Mike raises. He’ll feel guilty about it later and give Hanji a belated apology once he’s in a better mood. Thankfully, his friend knows about his moods enough not to mind. With a sigh, Levi rubs his face and says more calmly, “It’s fine. Let’s just take it from the top again.”

Mike has already set his drumsticks aside and stretches his arms above his head. “Nah, let’s take a break. I could use one, and you’re in one of those moods again. Might as well just call it a night so you can spend the night being grumpy about Zeke and Petra without any distractions,” he says as Hanji snickers.

“There’s no Zeke and Petra,” Levi snaps reflexively even though he should be denying that he’s grumpy about them in the first place.

The drummer of their band has hit the nail on the head, though. Levi’s been in a horrible mood leading up to today. It’s not that he hates Valentine’s Day. Most years he doesn’t pay any attention to it, but this year is different because he had plans. He had only failed to act upon them fast enough and suddenly Petra had been swept away on a date by someone else. To make things worse, the person who had asked Petra out before Levi could get the question out of his mouth is Zeke Jaeger, the most pretentious asshole in their school. It’s enough to make Levi swear off all subsequent Valentine’s Days altogether.

“I mean, there’s kind of a Zeke and Petra,” Hanji says. They pull up a chair and sit backwards on it, their arms resting on the back of the chair. “They’re going out tonight. They’ve probably had dinner at a nice, swanky restaurants, the ones that cook the steaks right in front of you. But should you really feel bad? If Petra’s going out with someone like Zeke Jaeger, you have to question her taste in men. Maybe you dodged a bullet.”

Mike shakes his head. “It’s not her fault. That guy is charming as fuck. He really buttered me up talking about indie bands. Just when I thought we were being great friends, he asked me if I could lend him my history homework because he forgot to do it last night. He knows how to get people to like him. He’s insidious,” Mike says.

“SAT word,” Hanji says, throwing up a hand to air high-five Mike.

“Did you give him your homework?” Levi asks Mike.

“... yes,” Mike admits reluctantly.

“Tch.”

“He’s really charismatic!” Mike protests as Hanji cackles.

“Well, I guess that’s true. It’s hard not to like him when he’s directed his attention towards you. The dude is charming and sociable, pretty much everything you’re not,” Hanji says to Levi who scowls in reply. Hanji should probably stop talking now if they want to avoid Levi’s ire, but somehow they’ve never felt the need to watch Levi’s temper. “I guess it’s not really Petra’s fault in the end. Does she even know you’re interested in her? If you really wanted to pursue her, you should have asked her out before Zeke. She probably went with him because she didn’t think you were interested in dating her.”

“It’s fine. It’s whatever. It’s over now, so can we just ... practice or whatever?” Levi asks because he doesn’t want to talk about it right now or ever. He’d really like to just play music the entire night, but he knows that his lack of concentration is going to make any rehearsal difficult. He hears Mike and Hanji start up the first few bars of “Wings of Freedom” once more, but they play half-heartedly, their own morale affected by Levi’s bad mood. In the end, Levi lets out a tired sigh and sits on the couch in the corner of the garage and curls up with the notebook he and the others use to scrawl lyrics when they’re brainstorming.

The walls of the garage reverberate from the drum beats that Mike practices, a low, syncopated rhythm that pulses against Levi’s ear. Hanji is strumming away softly, practicing a different song. As they play, they hum the countermelody to a song that is still in their drafts. The noise is something that would probably distract other people from writing new music, but Levi is used to it by now and filters it out, allowing it to fade into the background of his mind as he fiddles with his pencil and stares at a blank page. He doesn’t write a word on it but he can already see the words “I’m sorry” scribbled over and over the page in his own handwriting.

He’s not sure why his own hesitation is preventing him from asking Petra out. They’re just words, and the worst thing she can do is say no. At least he believed that was the worst thing that could happen. It turns out that not doing anything and having the worst person in the world ask out the girl he likes instead is the worst thing that can happen. But if Levi is too much of a coward to ask Petra out, does he even deserve to go out with her in the first place? Maybe he should resign himself to being a pathetic loner for the rest of his life.

Levi is still moping on the couch when his phone vibrates. Without looking at the screen, he picks up. “What is it?”

There’s a crackle on the other end and the sound of cars passing by. The person on the other side doesn’t speak, just makes a noise like sniffling, and for a moment Levi wonders if he’s being prank called. He has half a mind to just hang up when he suddenly hears Petra’s voice.

“L-Levi, can you c-come pick me up?” she asks, her voice breaking towards the end.

He’s already off the couch and grabbing his jacket off, shrugging it on while still keeping the phone to his ear. “Yeah, of course. Let me know where to pick you up. I’ll leave right now,” he says, ignoring the curious looks he’s receiving from his bandmates. He nods as Petra tells him the address and lets her know that he’ll be there soon before hanging up.

“Was that Petra?” Hanji asks, interest piqued. They’ve stopped strumming on their guitar. They’re too excited to stand still, bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet. It’s obvious from the expression on their face that they want to extract as much information from Levi as possible but they’re withholding questions so as to not hold Levi back from the task at hand. “Levi, go to her!”

Levi’s hand is on the doorknob already. “I’m going,” he scowls.

“Go to her, Levi!” Mike echoes with a grin on his face.

“Go to her! Go to her!” Hanji and Mike call as Levi runs out.

⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

Levi isn’t surprised when he pulls up to the address that Petra has given him. It’s Giovanni’s, one of those steakhouses that people dress up to go to and where the chefs cook the steaks right in front of you. It’s on the other side of town where most of the upscale restaurants and stores are. Levi’s never been in this area except to drive right past it, but it’s a neighborhood that suits the tastes of a rich, privileged, pretentious surgeon’s son like Zeke.

As he pulls up to the restaurant, he sees Petra waiting outside, shivering in the cold even though she has a perfectly good men’s blazer folded over her arm. She had taken the time to dress up for the dinner. She’s wearing a off-shoulder cocktail dress made of a rich, red satin with matching heels, and her ginger hair has been curled immaculately to frame her face. She must have been wearing makeup earlier, but the only evidence of it is the faint red that still stains her lips. Her eyes are still red from crying, but her expression turns from sadness to relief when she sees Levi’s beat-up car pull into a parking spot.

She hurries to the car, heels clicking against the pavement, and slips inside. As soon as she gets in, she crumples into the seat. She doesn’t cry, but she’s taking deep breaths as she tries to compose herself. After a while, she says shakily, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay” is all Levi says and he pulls out of the parking lot and starts on the long ride home. He should have turned on the radio so Petra wouldn’t feel self-conscious about crying if she needs to, but there’s too high a chance of radio stations marathoning love songs so he decides silence is the best option. Periodically, he glances at Petra, but she keeps her head down so that her hair covers her face. In her lap sits the blazer folded nicely as her fingers pick off invisible lint.

They’re stopped at a stoplight when something compels Levi to make conversation.

“You look pretty,” he tells Petra, and he regrets it instantly. It’s not like him to hand out compliments for free.

“Yeah, pretty fucking pathetic,” Petra says with a self-deprecating laugh. It’s only now that she lifts her head, brushing her hair away from her face. She leans against the side door, one arm resting on the elbow rest while her cheek is pressed against her hand. Even miserable, she looks beautiful. “This isn’t how I imagined the evening was going to turn out.”

He wonders how she thought the evening was going to turn out. She probably thought Zeke was going to take her home, maybe kiss her on the doorstep, and then make their relationship official by announcing it to the school on Monday morning. God, the thought of it makes him sick.

“He left me at the restaurant,” Petra continues without any prompting from Levi. She looks more angry than miserable now, her brows furrowed in frustration as she tries to understand why the night had taken a turn for the worse. She glances at Levi from the corner of her eye to gauge his expression as she recounts the night. “We were having a good time, at least I thought so. He took me to such a nice place, and I dressed up for it, too. We both had the steak and the waiter even said we were such a beautiful couple.”

Here, she doesn’t notice the slight grimace on Levi’s face.

“And then he got a call from someone. I didn’t think much of it, although looking back now it was really rude of him to pick up someone else’s call while he was on a date with me, especially since it wasn’t an emergency or anything,” Petra says. The more she speaks, the more she fiddles with the blazer sitting on her lap. She rubs the fabric of the sleeve between her fingers anxiously. “He came back after his call — and we had just ordered a dessert to split between us — and told me had to leave for a party. That junior for Paradis University he interviewed with for admissions called him and invited him to a party, said it was good for an incoming freshman to network with people and get a taste of university life outside of just the academics.”

“Hmm,” Levi hums as he listens. He doesn’t like a single word he hears. Listening to anything regarding Zeke usually annoys him, but everything Petra has just said is making his blood boil over. He tries to keep his voice calm and level as he asks, “He couldn’t have taken you? Or at least driven you home?”

“I wasn’t invited. He said it would make me uncomfortable if I went because I wouldn’t know anyone. Never mind that he doesn’t know anyone aside from the person who interviewed him,” Petra says bitterly. She rolls up the blazer now and sets it beside her instead of letting it take up space on her lap. “The party was at a house near the campus. It’s the complete opposite direction of where we live, so Zeke asked me to call one of my friends to pick me up so he could just drive there right away. And then he left me there.”

“Asshole.”

“I know!” Petra says, and it gives Levi a level of satisfaction that she agrees with him. She turns to Levi now, her hands on the arm rest between them. “He didn’t even wait for the dessert to come either. He just peeled out of there and I had to pay the bill, too.”

Levi has always known Zeke was terrible, but everything Petra tells him makes Zeke look exponentially worse. It’s like there’s no limit to how awful that asshole can be. He’s gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles have turned white.

“He told me he’d pay me back on Monday and then left me with his stupid jacket,” Petra sighs. She flicks the blazer beside her with a finger and then turns away to look out the window again. “I spent an hour crying in the bathroom before I called you. One of the waitresses felt bad for me and snuck me an extra dessert. God, I’m so pathetic.”

“It’s not you,” Levi tells her. “Zeke just sucks. You deserve better. You deserve someone who respects you and treats you right. You deserve someone who doesn’t make you blame yourself when he’s the one being a shithead.”

Petra laughs half-heartedly and Levi’s words, but she does seem in better spirits than she was earlier this evening. “If you ever find a guy like that, let me know. Tell him I’ll be right here waiting.”

Levi wants to be that guy. He wants to be the guy that’s better. He wants to be the one to take Petra to dinner, the one to never abandon her. He wants to be the one that Petra deserves and the one that deserves her, but he’s not sure if he is. All this time he’s been right here waiting to see if he is the right person, but he’s not sure he wants to sit around waiting anymore.

“Do you want to get ice cream?” he asks Petra. He sees her look at him in surprise and he shrugs in response. “It’s too shitty to end your night like this. Let’s get ice cream.”

Petra purses her lips, the corners of her mouth turning upward. “I’d like that a lot,” she tells Levi and then sits back in her seat. Her head is turned toward the window once more, but Levi can see the smile on her face in the reflection.

He decides he won’t hesitate any longer. He’s tired of being a coward. Once Petra has gotten over Zeke, Levi plans to shoot his shot. Until then, he’ll be right here waiting patiently.

#rivetra #levi ackerman #petra ral #snk #high school au #hs au #asks #answered #anon #anonymous #requests

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corner-stories · 20 days

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the whole "boyfriends" thing

Jean Kirschtein. Reiner Braun. High School AU. Chess Boards. Cigarettes. Mother-Son Conversations. 1657 words. (ao3.)

By dumbass teenage boy standards, Jean Kirschtein’s bedroom is fairly neat. Even if the odd marker or paint tube finds itself on the floor, every sock is either tucked into his drawer or tossed into the hamper, every sweater is hung cleanly in his closet or methodically placed on a hook near his door. Even his lacrosse sticks are leaning neatly against a wall.

Reiner is usually able to find a place for himself, that place often being the bed or the floor, as it’s where he can best fit in the limited space. Today he sits with his back against the headboard, situated near the window on a chilly afternoon where the sky is covered with clouds.

The size of the mattress may be small, yet Jean remains in front of him, his long legs folded as he balances a mixed media sketchbook on his knee. Despite the modestly-sized chess board between them, Jean is a lot more concerned with doodling than engaging in the game.

Every few moves they’ll pass the lit cigarette between them, though as the pieces get scattered over the board Jean finds himself accepting it less and less. But Reiner doesn’t seem to mind, as the sound of the Pet Shop Boys playing off laptop speakers keeps their little corner of the world at ease.

Reiner moves his rook across the board, placing it in the ideal spot to take out Jean’s king.

“Check.”

Jean’s eyes show a mild disinterest in the game, yet he puts his charcoal pencil in his mouth so he can move his bishop in front of his king. He then goes back to shading his sketch with soft, dusty lines.

Reiner rolls his eyes and moves one of his knights, further creating another point of attack to take down Jean’s king.

“Double check.”

Jean gives his boyfriend a glare. “You can’t double check, dipshit.”

“Yes, I can…” Reiner starts, taking a rather slow pull of the cigarette. “...and I will.”

Jean rolls his eyes before ceding to the notion. He’s far past the point of arguing over chess, and thus takes Reiner’s rook and knocks down his king himself. He doesn’t put up a fight when Reiner scoffs and begins reorganizing the board for round four. It helps that he’s not entirely invested in the match, as the drawing of a flower in his book is far more important.

Reiner passes the cigarette to Jean as he assembles the next game, Jean tipping some ash into the tray before taking a drag of his own. After blowing out a puff of smoke he places the stick on the tray, which resides on his windowsill.

Then like clockwork, a knock is heard and the bedroom door creaks open. Being used to Jean’s mother by now, Reiner’s disposition barely changes as she pops her head into the room. He hadn’t even heard her enter the house.

Arielle Kirschtein’s eyes are a familiar shade of hazel, the kind with the slightest bits of green, but unlike Jean her hair is a bit darker and her face looks a lot softer, a contrast to her son’s more angular features. Donning a hoodie over her usual nursing scrubs, it’s safe to assume that she just got home from a shift.

“Jeanbo,” Arielle begins. “Did you-”

“Yeah, Ma,” Jean grumbles, not looking up from his drawing. He places his pencil between his teeth again to start smudging the medium with his finger. He manages to speak through the object in his mouth. “The chicken’s defrosting. Took it out when I got home.”

Arielle smiles and nods. “That’s all I needed to hear, thank you.”

Reiner looks at Arielle with a calm expression. Perhaps any other mother would clutch her pearls at the sight, one involving a strappingly handsome linebacker in her son’s bed with a lit cigarette resting on the windowsill. But she proves to be different, giving the guest in her home an honest smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Kirschtein,” Reiner greets, clearly trying to sound polite.

“Oh, Reiner, you know you can call me Arielle, right?” she jests, letting out a laugh.

The linebacker chuckles. “Yeah, I’m still working on that.”

Arielle nods, then eyes her son being artsy and deep. “And Jeanbo, remember to-”

“Yes, Ma!” Jean responds, implying that he’s heard this particular tone of voice countless times. He dramatically pulls the pencil from his mouth to begin more shading. “We’ll clean up when we’re done!”

Arielle lets out another laugh, an infectious noise that cuts into the music playing from the laptop. “Okay, you boys behave.”

Once she’s gone she closes the door. The chess board is now set up and Reiner reaches for the cigarette again, holding it between his fingers. One would expect a football player to be more health-conscious, yet something about the atmosphere of Jean’s room helps him stop caring, even if for a moment. Sometimes he wonders what the school would think to see the star football player and lacrosse captain enjoying a smoke together, some people would find it more scandalous than the whole “boyfriends” thing.

“Why’s your mom so chill?” Reiner asks, making the first move in the game.

“Because when I was young I was an absolute fucking nightmare,” Jean explains, his signature snark seeping into his voice.

He reaches over and moves his own pawn, then when Reiner passes the cigarette he accepts, taking a drag with the energy of a vintage film star who’s no longer a suitable leading lady at the tender age of twenty five.

“Life tip,” Jean starts, keeping his eyes on his significant other. “Lower the bar when you’re a kid so the bare minimum impresses your mother in the future.”

Reiner chuckles, though this time it’s plagued with a sense of unease, a contrast to the lightheartedness he had shown not a minute earlier.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

…

Reiner is gone by the time dinner rolls around. As per usual, Jean rids his room of the smoky smell with a can of air freshener and the strategic opening of his window. Once the warmer weather comes around he and Reiner should be able to spend time in the backyard, whether they be training like the productive athletes they are or continuing to be teenage dipshits. But in the meantime, Jean’s bedroom will have to do.

Once the space is mostly clean he heads downstairs, entering the kitchen to join his mother.

Arielle is cooking when Jean walks by. He heads straight to the fridge to retrieve the milk, then like clockwork he takes a pull directly from the carton.

Arielle wordlessly grabs a glass from the cupboard and slides it across the counter, where Jean catches it.

Jean rolls his eyes but heeds to her request, pouring himself a glass of milk like a respectable young man. For once.

“Did Reiner leave?” Arielle asks, focusing on her cooking as her son chugs milk behind her.

Jean nods as he puts down his glass. “Yeah, he has to pick up his cousin from karate. It’s a whole thing.”

Arielle hums. “Good to know.”

A few moments pass as she continues to cook and Jean pours himself another glass of milk — clearly, his sudden growth spurt isn’t going to fuel itself. When Arielle steps away from the stove she heads to the spice shelf. She doesn’t need to reach for the tarragon for long before Jean steps in, silently grabbing the small bottle that’s just out of his mother’s reach. At least he’s using his freakish frankenteen height for good.

Arielle grins as she accepts the spices, then heads back to the stove. “I ran into Karina, by the way, at the post office.”

Jean raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Arielle nods as she sprinkles dried herbs into a pan full of stir-fried chicken and vegetables. “Yeah, she’s…” she begins, then pauses to think her words through. “...she’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to.”

Jean’s only reaction is to shrug. “That’s Ms. Braun for ya.”

The sound of a sizzling pan fills the kitchen as Jean feels his smartphone vibrate. He fishes it out of his pocket as he leans against the counter, reading the latest text from his boyfriend. The bulk of the message consists of a smiling selfie depicting Reiner and his little cousin, the caption explaining that Gabi finally earned her green belt with a flurry of excited emojis.

Jean grins and sends back a reply about how she’ll be the next linebacker by the time she’s in high school.

The memory of Reiner’s smile remains in Jean’s mind even after putting his phone down. Soon he feels his mother tapping his shoulder, then when he looks over he sees her gesturing to a cutting board, a knife, and several stalks of unsliced scallions. She doesn’t need to say anything for him to walk over and get to work.

The sound of chopping permeates the air, alongside the sizzle and Arielle’s quiet humming. As Jean meticulously slices the scallions as thin as his mother prefers them, a sudden thought comes to his mind, one influenced by the conversion between him and his mother, as well as the message from his boyfriend.

“Uh… mom?” Jean starts.

Arielle doesn’t look up from her pan. “Yes?”

“Ms. Braun doesn’t know about me and Reiner,” Jean decides to say. He keeps his words simple, not wanting to complicate things. Like his mother, he focuses on cooking, but lets the topic in mind retain its weight. “So could you maybe… not let her in on this?”

Arielle looks to Jean, then when he meets her gaze he notices the worried, questioning look on her face.

“Not tell her we’re together, I mean,” he’s quick to clarify.

And to that Arielle doesn’t hesitate. She nods her head and immediately goes back to cooking, understanding the request but not making a fuss about it.

“Of course, of course.”

#reijean #jeanrei #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #reiner braun #modern au #high school au #mama kirschtein #snk #shoutout to Mama Kirschtein for being the best mom ever

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captain-natey · 1 year

Text

Read In your Eyes on ao3

#rivetra #citrinate draws #snk #levi x petra #aot #petra ral #anime #levi ackerman #citrinate writes #high school au #trans levi au #in your eyes #fanart #rivapet

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isabel-magn0lia · 2 months

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Jean accidentally making eyes at Armin instead of Mikasa

#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #jean kirschstein #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #snk high school au #mission failed

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crisalidaseason · 2 years

Note

which subjects in school would be aot characters favourites?

Umm let's go!

AOT characters favorite school subjects

Eren

Honestly, his favorite subject would be anything he's excelling at the moment. That man probably has ADHD so he cannot focus in one thing for that long. But if he had to choose he would pick Sociology.

Mikasa

I think she would be good at everything, but absolutely hate school subjects. She's like "I'm only here because I need, but everything I learned is useless". The only subject she likes a bit more is Physical Education.

Armin

Complicated. He would be good at everything either! But he also values every subject as important. If he had to choose it would be Literature and sometimes Science/Biology.

Jean

My man is a filosophy lover and he would be so freaking smart about it. If the teacher isn't nice or good, the students would definitely ask Jean to help them.

Connie

Math. If jean loves filosophy, he needs a friend that is crazy enough to genuinely like math. And Connie is really good at it.

Sasha

I think she would love Biology, specially field classes and sanctuary/zoo visits.

Historia

She's a history girl. She would specially love ancient history and develop a cute love for archeology later on.

Ymir

Art. She doesn't like any school subjects besides art. In my mind, she's good at everything art related but enjoys sculpting and clay modeling the most.

Hange

Chemistry. They are completely nuts! Chemistry is their life and reason to live. Knows everything and teaches people how to make homemade explosives.

Levi

Hates absolutely everything, but tolerates English.

Erwin

Sociology man too. He would love history and filosophy too though.

Annie

I think she wouldn't like a specific subject, but maybe she has a soft spot for P.E (she is definetly an athletic girl) and Physics (I know, terrifying, just like her).

Bertholdt (bertolt? bertoldt? idk)

He would be into Geography, specially Geopolitics and Geoeconomics.

Reiner

Chemistry kind of guy, wanna be Walter White. Definetly too interested in making some sort of drugs.

Porco

Lunch time, that's it. He only wants lunch time.

Pieck

Sleep time. Porco and her share one braincell that's contantly hungry or sleepy. Kidding, she would be into either music or art (maybe play the piano? do a little painting?)

Colt

My man is average in everything, I don't think he has a favorite subject, but would love to have higiene and basic care classes (so he can take care of our children)

Zeke

Baseball, only thing that smelly monkey cares about (oh, besides abortion and eugenics, he would be a blast to have in sociology class)

I am sure I must have forgotten someone, but tell me which character you'd like me to talk about!

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underthetree845 · 6 months

Text

How to Say “I love you”

Chapter Eight: When In Doubt

Chapter Index

Armin/Reader

Cws: AFAB Reader, Reader is Eren’s twin sister, high school au, communication issues resolution, mutual pining, childhood friends, flashbacks

About 5.8k words

Summary: Armin reflects on the history of his and Reader’s relationship and they have a much needed conversation.

A/n: Okay so I did get it out this weekend! It's Sunday night for me as I'm posting this, so I'm sure some of you will see this Monday morning so apologies for that. <3

The last time Armin had to deal with Eren holding a grudge against him was probably around seventh grade- your guys’ second year of junior high.

Near the end of the year, for one Friday only, the cafeteria had been giving away Unagi and Chee Burg Steak per popular vote amongst the students and student council on what to spend the school’s extra fundraiser money on.

Of course, fate had already woven its terrible web, and the one day Eren would have been able to get his favorite food for free at school, a terrible flu left him bedridden that Friday and almost the entirety of the following week. It was so bad your mother wouldn’t even let him leave his room. Your father did what he could. Eren wasn’t on the brink of death by any means, even if he did act like it, but from what you could tell, he did suffer pretty terribly.

He blamed it on the after school fight on Wednesday that he’d gotten himself involved in. It happened during a heavy snowfall. By the time you, Armin, and Mikasa found him, he was already wet and chattering, trudging home on battered legs. Umbrellas aren’t really much of a priority in fistfights.

That Friday, you and Mikasa had a project to work on during lunch, so Eren asked Armin if he would grab an extra meal and bring it back as a favor. The blonde boy happily obliged, but was met with dismay by the rate at which all the specialty lunches were being handed out. Spending some extra time after class to help a classmate through a difficult math problem had already made Armin a little late getting to the lunchroom; not late enough, however, to miss out on snatching an extra Chee Burg Steak packet. It was one of the last ones.

Not being able to get ahold of the meal wasn’t what Armin ended up apologizing for. Theo, for whatever reason, always took to dirtying Armin’s uniform whenever he caught him alone at lunch. When none of his friends were there to defend him, Theo could play it off as an accident in such a way that it would be useless to report to the faculty as harassment without any witnesses. It just happened to be one of those days. As Armin was walking back to your classroom with both meals, he caught Theo’s eye, and god forbid he have one day of peace, because the poor boy ended up with Unagi sauce all down the front of his sweater vest.

Theo wasn’t even the direct reason Armin was unable to deliver the Chee Burg Steak meal to Eren. Now he had to go to the bathroom to wash up and stop by his locker to change into his other sweater (which he had learnt to bring after the third occurrence). Armin briefly stepped into the nearest classroom to set the meals down. It was reasonable to think that the meals would be safe- after all who would just take someone else’s food?

Well apparently the answer was at least one person, because when Armin came back from changing, his one meal of Unagi and one meal of Chee Burg Steak had turned into two meals of Unagi.

You were dead set on interrogating that entire class when you found out, but Armin managed to convince you that there wouldn’t be much of a point in doing so. There would be no way to prove who exchanged the meals unless enough students acted as witnesses, and the chance that students would take the time after school for something so trivial was beyond slim. He doubted the faculty would even hear them out. Plus, the meal was probably already being eaten, so there wouldn’t be much to gain even if they did pinpoint a perpetrator.

Eren understood that what happened wasn’t for Armin’s lack of trying, the brunette mostly just grumbled about “not being so much of a pushover,” and “why’d you leave them in that classroom anyway?” He wasn’t really upset with Armin’s actions, he was mostly just being grumpy about missing out on the Chee Burg Steak (it definitely being the only possible meal that could cure his sickness).

The grudge itself didn’t last very long. Armin felt absolutely terrible, so that weekend he stopped by the convenience store and picked up half a dozen pre-packaged Chee Burg Steak meals for your brother; all qualms were immediately forgotten.

This time, Armin had a feeling that forgiveness wouldn’t come so easily.

His fists wrinkled the fabric of his uniform pants, Eren’s eyes continued to bore into him like two sharp nails.

“I won’t… say what it is exactly,” Armin’s voice displayed his hesitancy, “but it’s just something to do with your sister. Okay?”

“Well yeah, I already know that much,” Eren replied with a sigh, “You’ve been acting weird around her, like there’s something in the back of your mind other than the fact that you want to marry her or whatever.” Armin flushed.

“O-okay so I just,-” the boy pressed his lips into a line, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I know something that makes me think that Y/n knows something else that makes me think that she’s just pretending to care about me so she doesn’t hurt my feelings.”

Eren blinked once.

“Sorry, what?”

“I’m worried that she’s just pretending to care about me,” Armin finished, finally looking up and the two boys locked eyes.

“... Are you actually being serious? Because that’s kind of the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Eren scrunched his face up in contemplation.

“I wish I weren’t being serious,” Armin said, lowering his eyelids to let out a sigh.

Your brother sat there for a minute. Part of him was dumbfounded. What had you done to make Armin worry about this? Part of him wanted to shake his best friend by the shoulders for being stupid enough to even consider the possibility. The other part of him was choosing what course of action to take to convince Armin that there was no possible way what he was worrying about could be true without revealing too much.

“You know what? Come with me,” Eren said, getting up from his position on the floor. Armin stood and followed him out into the hallway, but paused when he realized where they were headed. “Y/n and Mikasa’s room??” Armin exclaimed in a whisper, placing his hand on Eren’s shoulder. “We can’t go in there while they’re not home, it’d be an invasion… of… privacy.” I really am a hypocrite, aren’t I? Armin sighed as his thoughts trailed off. He pulled his hand back.

Eren continued into your room and kneeled down next to the short dresser that sat in front of the window. Armin followed apprehensively, making a conscious effort to avoid looking at your desk.

“What are you even doing?” Armin hissed, “We shouldn’t be here.”

“Relax, I’ve done worse,” Eren waved him off.

“That doesn’t help,” Armin sighed warily, squinting to check the time on his watch in your dark room. It would be another hour and a half till you got back from helping Sasha babysit. He had no excuse to make for worrying.

“Ah, but this might,” Eren said, pulling out a small wooden jewelry box with a satisfactory grin. The box wore a coat of white paint, slightly chipped but mostly in good condition. It had a gold keyhole that needed polishing on the front, but not much else.

Eren moved to sit across from Armin so that the beam of light from the cracked door went between them. He slid the little box into the beam of light and crossed his arms.

“Why don’t you take a look inside here and try to tell me my sister doesn’t really care about you again?” the way he said it sounded more like a command than a suggestion, and Armin found himself unable to refuse.

The box actually didn’t hold much. One by one, on the carpet, Armin laid out each of his findings. First was a seashell; a small one with a spiral at the top, still big enough to hold up to your ear to listen to the waves. Next was a small folded piece of paper. Armin set it down without making a move to open it. Lastly came some pressed flowers. They were purple and there were nine of them- he counted.

“These are just things- aren’t they? I mean… I don’t really know…” Armin lowered his eyebrows in thought as he continued to stare.

“For someone so smart, you sure are really stupid when it comes to this,” Eren sighed, scooting forward to brush his fingertips over the petals. “Do you remember that science fair project you did with Y/n when we were like, what- thirteen?”

Armin’s eyes widened. “Yeah, of course I do. But… what do you mean by that?” Armin asked. He was unable to help the way his heart thumped in his chest. Flashes of your awestruck expression and beautiful smile against the rays of the sunset long since burned into the back of his mind began to resurface.

“She was giddy that entire night. When I asked her where the flowers came from she told me you’d given them to her after the science fair after having grown them separately,” Eren explained, arranging the paperlike blossoms into the shape of a bouquet on the floor. “Ah, so she told you about that,” Armin’s voice lowered in embarrassment, a pink hue glowed on his cheeks as he looked down. “Yeah. She said it was the best thing she’d ever received and that she wanted to keep them forever,” your brother continued, “They sat in a vase for a while, our mom almost threw them away when they started to get too wilty. Y/n stopped her and decided to press them. They’re completely off limits so don’t you dare mention anything about this.” “She really liked them… that much?” Armin wanted to smile- but something held him back. He knew you held the types of feelings he longed for, just for someone else. It felt wrong to smile about something so precious that didn’t belong to him.

“If she was pretending to care about you, she wouldn’t have put the flowers out,” Eren noted, “Hell, the fact that she stopped our mom from throwing them away to preserve them even longer probably means that she cares about you kinda a lot.”

That’s true. The flowers did succeed in at least partially relieving some of Armin’s concerns. What was most important was to be there for you. He would always love you unconditionally, he didn’t need his feelings to be returned to do that. He loved you, not just the idea of being loved by you.

“Do you need me to tell you what the seashell is from too, then?” Eren asked, shifting to sit more comfortably and leaning on one of his hands.

“No, I remember this,” Armin said with a fond smile, picking up the little trinket and holding it close. He shut his eyes and focused on the sound of the waves crashing against his ear.

- “It’s so pretty! Where did you find it?” your eyes sparkled as Armin handed you the treasure. “Just over there,” he replied, a light flush coming to his cheeks at how easily he was able to make you smile.

He watched as you closed your eyes and held the shell up to your ear, sighing blissfully before opening them again and looking at him.

“You know it’s really echoing the sound of your blood capillaries, right?” Armin asked, shifting his foot in the sand.

“What are caterpillar fairies?” you looked up at him in confusion, a gentle breeze blowing as you refocused to meet his gaze. “The blood flowing in your head,” Armin explained, tapping a finger to his temple, “When you press a seashell to your ear, it sounds like the ocean because the shell is reflecting the sound of your blood flowing right back into your own ear. “Really?” you replied, looking at the small shell in your hand. Armin nodded. “Well then that just means the ocean’s inside of us, right?” you grinned at him as a wave washed over your feet. “Sure, I guess,” Armin replied with half a smile, “My mom just kind of taught me the explanation for it though, so…”

“Have you ever actually tried it?” you tilted your head.

“Not in a while…” he mumbled.

You took hold of his hand and placed the seashell in it. He gripped onto the small object and you pushed his hand into his chest. “Please do it,” your voice was laced with sincerity, “I know you’ll love it.”

Armin looked at you for a moment before nodding softly, holding the seashell delicately in both hands as he brought it up to his ear and allowed his eyelids to sink closed.

It was a sound he hadn’t heard in a long time. Memories of his parents’ voices carried through the wind and over his ears. Armin felt a certain ache in his chest at the familiarity. At the same time, it made his heart thump with newfound joy. He had always found a certain fascination with the ocean, and now you had decided to share something you discovered about it with him. He had no reason not to be happy.

Armin’s lips soon curved into a gentle smile, he took a deep breath before opening his eyes again and looking at the shell fondly. “Thank you, Y/n,” you watched him wordlessly as he took your hand and placed the shell in your palm. “I think I needed that.”

“We were only ten when I found this, did she really keep it all this time?” Armin spoke aloud, more to himself than anyone, admiring the seashell one last time before setting it back down on the carpet. “Do I really have to answer that question?” your brother replied.

“So what’s the paper then?” Armin asked, pointing to the small folded piece of parchment that still sat untouched at his knees. “Open it.” “I… don’t know about that.”

“It’s just a picture,” Eren said, furrowing his brows at Armin’s hesitancy.

“Oh, okay then,” the blonde boy nodded once, reaching for the picture and opening it with great care. The creases were deep. He would’ve been able to tell the picture was five years old even if he didn’t still remember the day it was taken. It was the same day he gave you the shell.

Armin’s grandfather and your mother thought it would be nice to take the four of you out for a beach day to celebrate Armin’s birthday. The boy had been hesitant to return after his parents’ death; the adults were hoping that having his friends there to create new memories would give him some kind of push in the right direction. The picture wasn’t perfect by any means, but neither were the four of you; it brought a sincere smile to Armin’s lips. Eren’s face- or rather the top half of his face- took up the bottom right corner of the shot. He’d been yelling to Carla about god knows what and ran up way too close to the camera when she’d been trying to take a picture.

Mikasa stood off to the side, her face scrunched into a knot and her arm halfway up. A second after the picture was taken, she’d let out a sneeze.

And perhaps Armin’s favorite part- he could still feel the way you wrapped your arms around his neck. He still remembers how you threw your body weight on him. He still remembers how bright your smile was, he couldn't help but run his thumb over the picture fondly.

A warm chuckle slipped past his lips as he continued to stare. Ten year old Armin hadn’t been completely prepared for you to suddenly latch onto him for the picture; his posture was off-balance and he kicked up a little sand. He was looking at you with wide eyes and his mouth was open- he had been starting to say something.

“So you’re saying all that wasn’t any kind of real foundation?” Eren raised his eyebrows after it had been long enough, “Go on, try to tell me again.”

There was a pause.

“Thank you, Eren,” Armin’s voice was gentle as he packed the items up and closed the lid of the box with a click, “I think I needed that.”

You were cut off mid sentence by a sneeze, Mikasa handing you a tissue on autopilot.

“Thank you,” you nodded gratefully, taking the tissue and blowing your nose once more. You swiftly tossed the paper into the garbage can and moved over to the sink.

“That’s the fourth time in the past hour- are you sure you aren’t getting sick?” Mikasa asked skeptically as you washed your hands.

“Yeah, I feel fine, it’s just so strange. Maybe I’m not reacting well to a certain cleaner or something like that,” you sighed, toweling your hands dry before folding the garment and hanging it back up.

“Someone must be talking about you a lot,” Sasha chimed.

“Huh?”

“You did save some! Thank you!” a pleased gasp left your throat. Your bag was thrown to the side as you entered the kitchen, your mother setting a hearty plate of beef rolls down on the counter for you and Mikasa to share.

“Of course, growing girls need good dinners,” your mother smiled warmly.

Mikasa entered the kitchen soon after you, and you saw her eyes light up a bit when she noticed the food. Your mother turned to the sink to begin washing the dishes but you (as politely as possible) shouldered her to the side before she could get her hands wet. “You’ve been working, Mikasa and I can take care of this before we eat,” you offered with a smile, taking the sponge and pumping some green dish soap onto it.

“Thank you sweetheart, but I can do it if you want. You’ve been working hard too,” your mother replied, crossing her hands over her apron as Mikasa joined you at the sink.

“It’s no trouble at all, Carla,” Mikasa added, and your mother gave in with a sigh. “Where’s Eren?” the raven-haired girl asked. Only then did you turn back and notice the strange stillness of the house.

“He’s walking Armin home, those boys studied so hard,” your mother answered, reaching into the cabinet to pull out some of your father’s favorite tea.

“Oh so we just missed them,” you sighed. A small smile quirked onto your mother’s lips.

“Yes, but Armin did ask me to ask you to call him later. I think he has something to discuss with you,” your mother added, and you almost dropped the plate you were holding into the sink. Mikasa swooped it out of your loose grasp, suds of soap dripped from your hands onto the floor.

“...Really?” you asked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yeah, I can do that.”

Your mother was silent as she poured the boiling water from the kettle into the teacup, stirring it with a small spoon before placing the cup on a matching plate and holding it out. “Bring this to your father, will you, Y/n?” your mother asked. You immediately brushed your hands dry and took the steaming cup into your grasp. “He’s been working so late in his office lately, I wish there was more I could do,” your mother lowered her eyebrows and folded her hands neatly after handing you the tea.

“You’re making thoughtful gestures like this, that’s more than enough,” you said with a smile before disappearing down the hallway.

“I’m home, Grandfather!” Armin called, toeing off his shoes and taking a step forward, only to have a little gray ball of fluff dash towards him and curl behind his legs. “Apollo?” Armin looked down with a slight chuckle, halting his movements so as to not step on the small creature. “Ah, Armin. Welcome home,” Armin’s grandfather greeted warmly, “Pick up the little rascal for me, will you?”

Armin reached down and swiftly gripped the scruff on Apollo’s neck, scooping the kitten into his arms and walking towards his grandfather. “I was trying to bathe the little thing but he kept escaping,” Armin’s grandfather shook his head, smiling fondly as Armin handed Apollo over. “I’ve got him now.”

“Grandfather, did you get scented candles?” Armin scanned the room as he sniffed the air. He was able to spot a few little flames scattered about, and the air had been smelling distinctly more floral than usual since he came in. “Yes I did!” Armin’s grandfather replied, “I heard that lavender is good for calming cats down, so I picked up some scents on my way back from the doctor’s office today. I figured it might help Apollo feel more at home.”

Armin’s eyes softened.

“Grandfather, you realize we’re planning to get Apollo adopted soon, right? If we can’t find anyone by the end of this school year then we’re going to hand him over to a shelter,” Armin pointed out, finding his own heart sinking at the thought.

“Yes I know, but this is his home for now, so we may as well give him pleasant memories of it,” Armin’s grandfather replied, his wrinkled hand cupping the kitten softly. His thumb ran over Apollo’s head, lulling him into a calmer state.

Armin and his grandfather looked at each other and matching smiles spread across their faces.

A wet toothbrush sat next to the sink. Clean hands folded a fluffy white towel and hung it back up. Blonde hair tickled his ears, still slightly damp and cool on his scalp. He slipped on a pair of socks and made his way across the carpet. The deep blue curtains were pulled closed, a small gray kitten lay sleeping soundly at the foot of the sheets. The boy flicked off the lights and carefully slid under the covers so as to not wake the kitten. His head hit the pillow as he let out a sigh.

I’m not sure whether to feel better or worse about today, Armin thought, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, But I’m sure getting it off my chest will help.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, little green specks of light came into his vision and he grinned.

“B-be careful!” a tiny voice uttered.

“Relax, we’re not going to die or anything,” your brother replied, peeling another star-shaped sticky off the plastic sheet and pressing it to the ceiling.

“Don’t worry, there’s only a few more!” you grinned down at the blonde boy.

Armin’s eight year old hands gripped the ladder a little tighter as he attempted to peer around your heads to see how they looked.

The glow in the dark star stickeys had been a gift from your family to Armin for his birthday just a week prior. Your younger self had probably been a bit self-indulgent when picking out the gift, given how much you loved to look at the stars, but that didn’t make Armin appreciate it any less.

“Finished!” Eren said with a sigh, stepping down a few steps on the ladder and allowing himself to fall onto Armin’s blue checkered bed with a poof.

“Grandfather, can you please turn the lights off now?” you asked, eyes twinkling as you descended the rungs and grabbed Armin by the hand. The sheets dipped under you as you crawled onto the bed. You allowed your knees to dangle off and tugged Armin down beside you.

Armin’s grandfather flipped the switch, you all squinted in the darkness for a moment before small soft little green stars shapes came into view.

Armin wore the same smile he did that night. You were everywhere, every part of his life. You had left your mark on his past and his soul. The stars were more faded now and much less noticeable than when they were fresh out of the package, but how could he have the heart to take them down?

I wonder why she didn’t call me tonight… Armin thought with a sigh, glancing over at his phone as it sat on his nightstand as if doing so would will it to ring.

Maybe she just wants me to learn my lesson for avoiding her, he placed his hands over his face, I mean I was just really suddenly distant. I wouldn’t blame her if she-

Armin’s phone buzzed with one of the only two caller IDs he’d set to go off in silent mode, and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin. If it wasn’t his grandfather calling him from down the hallway at eleven o’ clock at night, then it had to be…

“Y/n?” he spoke in a hushed tone, squinting at the brightness of his phone screen. Apollo lifted his head and looked over for a moment before curling over the other way.

“Armin? You there?” you replied. He couldn’t help the way his expression softened upon seeing your face, and he was partially thankful for the almost pitch darkness of his room to hide it. “Armin I can’t see you,” you uttered, and he was quick to snap out of his trance and sit up to turn on the lamp at his bedside table.

“Hey,” he smiled, internally wincing at the state of his hair once he caught sight of it in the camera. “So I take it your mom passed on the message?” he inquired, making a quick effort to smoothen out his hair before focusing on you again. “Yeah…” you replied, pressing your cheek into your pillow, “Sorry about it being so late. I got caught up talking to my dad about some family stuff in his office.” Armin accepted the fact with a nod. “...Zeke is coming to visit soon,” you added, and Armin’s smile wavered. “That’ll be… interesting,” he hummed, searching your expression for any kind of inference.

“Yeah, we’ll see how it goes. He sees Grandma and Grandpa a lot more often than he sees us, I’m pretty sure last time he visited Eren and I were just starting junior high.”

“Mhm, I remember that,” Armin nodded, “Do you think I’ll get to meet him this time?”

“Possibly. If you’re interested I can come up with a time for you to coincidentally drop by while he’s over,” you replied, and Armin gave you an appreciative smile.

“Thank you Y/n, but I think I’ll just leave it up to fate,” he said, turning to copy your position and lay on his side.

Part of him wished he were really laying like this with you.

“So… did you have a specific reason you wanted to call?” you asked. Armin took a deep breath.

The boy shifted for a moment, placing his hand under his head before finally looking into the camera to make eye contact with you. “Yeah…” he stated, “I have to confess.”

That sentence alone made your brain spiral into a million different directions at once. Confession? What kind? Did he do something or does he mean… no way! It has to have to do with how distant he’s been these last few days. Has to be.

“Oh? What do you mean?” you replied, internally cursing the way your breath shook.

“The letter,” Armin stiffened as he spoke, a cloud of shame hovering over his head.

Your breath caught in your throat. No, no. Please for the love of god, no.

“I didn’t read it all, but I did kind of… catch some glimpses,” he admitted, lips tugging into a slight frown as he physically curled in on himself more, “Mikasa didn't write it, did she?”

That was it. You were going to die. There is no recovery from this. How does something like this even happen? It was so ridiculous you almost couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“Ah, I see,” you struggled to keep your tone steady.

“And I wanted to let you know,” Armin continued, “that I’ll support you no matter what. Whoever it is would have been very touched, I’m sure.”

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, his sentence felt like a nail to your chest. If he accepts and supports me being with someone else that easily, then there’s no way he has his own feelings for me.

“Okay,” you knew the tension in your tone was obvious but you didn’t care. You just wished you could turn back time and forget this whole stupid mess.

“And… I also wanted to say I’m sorry,” Armin spoke timidly. This was another one of the times you could swear his eyes change based on how he is feeling. That shade of blue always seemed to dim when he was down and actually light up when something excited him or when the two of you made eye contact. “I didn’t really know what to do…” he continued to explain with a waver in his voice, “I was so worried that you’d hate me for what I did. I tried to distance myself so I could have time to think, but that just made things a million times worse.”

Your expression softened. You could never hold any anger towards the boy, not really. In fact you weren’t even angry in the first place, Armin certainly hadn’t done anything wrong. The feeling just needed to settle in your gut for a while until you could be normal again.

“Armin, it’s okay,” you tried to reassure him as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“But don’t- don’t you hate me now?” Armin’s bottom lip quivered, he pulled the sheets up a little higher on his chest. Oh how you wished you could reach out and wrap him in your arms.

“Come on, I could never do that,” your smile was so warm and so sincere it made him want to burst into tears.

He didn’t deserve to be forgiven. How could you not even distrust him a little bit? He didn’t deserve such kindness, but was thankful enough to have been blessed with someone like you; you who he never planned on letting go.

“Okay,” he nodded with a shaky breath, “Thank you, Y/n.”

“Yeah,” you replied with a light smile. The unease still swam in your stomach, but Armin’s sincerity lessened the weight significanlty. This could have gone so much worse if it was someone else. “How could I call you my closest friend if I let something like this ruin it?”

A smile tugged on Armin’s lips.

“And Y/n, I just want to say it one more time,” he added with an earnest breath, “what you wrote was beautiful. I’m sure your feelings are true, and anyone would have to be crazy to not accept a confession like that.”

A bittersweet taste stung on the tip of your tongue, you swallowed it in favor of appreciating the fact that you hadn’t accidentally ruined one of the most valuable relationships in your life.

“So how were Sasha and her four little siblings?” Armin changed the topic lightly, and you let out a laugh.

“Good, but I think Leo is going through a phase,” you replied with an mirthful glint in your eyes.

“How so?” Armin asked. That familiar warmth began to fill his chest.

“I know it’s normal for kids to have collections, but when I was getting his Legos so we could play, I found an entire box of bug and lizard carcasses under his bed,” you explained, your stomach twisting at the memory.

“An entire box?!” Armin exclaimed in a hushed tone.

“An entire box,” you shook your head.

“I used to collect bugs when I was little too though,” Armin pointed out with a light chuckle.

“Yeah but you didn’t trap them in an air-tight container under your bed!” you retorted, “You were such a sweetheart about it! You fed them leaves and smaller bugs and released them after a while.”

“True,” Armin admitted with a bashful smile.

“I remember one time you started crying when you stepped on a worm because you felt so bad,” you giggled. Armin’s ears flushed red.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he tried to pout.

“Sorry sorry,” you sighed with a lingering grin, “Did you finish that book you were telling me about a while back?”

“You mean Sense and Sensibility?” Armin’s eyes lit up and you nodded.

His voice reminded you of the tide. Gentle and smooth, coming in and out, never failing to put you at ease.

He went on about his book. You paid attention at first, and completely meant to listen for as long as he spoke; but your pillow proved too soft and his voice just settling enough.

The stress in anticipation for the call had been lifted from your shoulders; it felt so good to just be able to talk again.

Armin softened his voice as your eyes sank closed, soon he went quiet and just stared.

Your chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. Armin resisted the urge to take a screenshot as he admired the way your eyelashes rested atop your cheeks and your skin glowed warmly illuminated by your bedside lamp. He hoped you had already done everything you needed to get ready for bed, there was no way he would be able to wake you up.

In the same way that he occasionally wore his grandfather’s smile, Armin had heard many people compare your smile to Eren’s; saying that they looked the same. You were twins, after all. Even though it made sense, Armin never found himself able to completely agree. Yes, it was nice to see his best friend smile, but when the corners of your lips tugged into a grin, he always felt somewhat weak in the knees. It was even better if he was the reason behind such a breathtaking display.

Your lips had different kinds of smiles. Some were polite, given to anyone upon a first meeting or out of courtesy to those you didn't know well.

Some were loud. You let those out when Connie made a stupid joke in class or when your brother landed flat on his face while jumping hurdles in phys ed.

Some were feigned. He could see the pain that blended through your expression, the exhaustion in your eyes and the tears that threatened to spill. He pulled you side and held you close as you cried, allowing you to hide yourself in him in your little corner of the world.

Then there were the special ones, the ones that stopped time and made Armin forget how to breathe. They came from your heart. Practically infectious, he could never help matching it and allowing himself to fall a little more in love.

Suddenly, the camera shifted, and Armin tilted his head as someone picked it up.

He made eye contact with Mikasa and a small flush creeped onto his cheeks.

Her eyebrows were lowered and the ghost of a smile rested in her expression. Armin didn’t miss the knowing look in her eyes.

“I know, I know,” he whispered briefly, “Sleep well, Mikasa.”

She replied with a sigh, “Goodnight, Armin.”

A/n: AHH- it feels like forever since I updated, thank you all for your patience and continued kindness! Thank you so much for reading, next chapter in progress!

Tagging: @rui-0836

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lostcauses-noregrets · 4 months

Note

Erwin having a weird sense of humour is also based on this canon bit from the Attack on School Castes :)

Oh yes! Thank you! Good catch, I'd forgotten about this 😊

#asks #erwin smith #erwin meta #school castes au #high school au #snk

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exolefirstclass · 1 year

Text

[ high school!AU ]

It’s not Jean’s first relationship, but it is his first love (and first real break up that he didn’t want)

Twitter | Instagram

#floch forster #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein angst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #aot #snk #fan art #flojean #au #high school au #art #doodle

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pickalilywrites · 4 months

Note

Petra is shopping for Levi's birthday/christmas present at the mall. but has trouble what to get. She runs into her friends and ask for help

thanks!!! have a good holiday :)

gift shopping

rivetra. high school au. 2119 words. read on ao3.

Petra feigns a smile when she finds herself running into her friends at the mall. Somehow, she’s not surprised to see them here. Even though she already knows the answer, she asks, “What are you all doing here?”

“Holiday shopping,” Eld replies easily without any trace of shame. Behind him, Auruo and Gunther nod their heads a little too vigorously. Eld grins down at Petra. “You’re going gift shopping too, right? Maybe we should shop together. The more the merrier, right?”

“We could also be helpful if you’re shopping for a guy. It’s good to have a male perspective in these situations,” Gunther says. He’s a little too eager, a little too helpful as he tries to subtly convince Petra to allow them to join her shopping spree. It would be obvious even to an outsider that they’re not so much helping as they are trying to weasel their way into her business.

“Especially if you’re shopping for a special guy,” Auruo adds. He wears the same eager smile that Gunther does and it makes Petra stumble backwards in alarm. “As special guys ourselves, we would be more than happy to help you in that department, Petra. Especially if that guy is Levi Ackerman.”

Her cheeks flush red at the mention of Levi’s name, but Auruo’s words are not untrue. She has come to the mall with the intention of purchasing a gift for Levi’s birthday, although she is admittedly having difficulty finding the perfect gift. Levi isn’t a very materialistic person to begin with, so Petra is afraid he will be less than impressed than whatever she manages to find. She has already been at the mall for two hours scouring the shelves of half the stores in the mall only to come up empty-handed. At this point, Petra should be glad that her friends have turned up and offered to assist her, but she knows they’re only here to meddle rather than offer any goodwill as they so claim.

“You three are awfully interested in my affairs with Levi Ackerman,” Petra mutters. She moves towards a rack of winter coats and flips through the various peacoats even though she knows she won’t find anything suitable for Levi. Even though she doesn’t turn her head, she can hear her friends shuffling behind her, following her every move. “It’s just a birthday present. It’s not that interesting.”

“If it has anything to do with Levi Ackerman, it’s automatically interesting. Those are just the rules,” Eld says. Behind him, Auruo and Gunther nod in agreement.

Despite being rather popular at school, Levi Ackerman is an enigma. He’s in a well-known indie rock band called No Name with two other classmates. While the band has their fans and even holds concerts from time to time, Levi tends to keep to himself and only speaks with a few other classmates. It seems Petra is a part of this precious few, much to her friends’ utter delight.

In complete contrast, Petra and her friends can fly under the radar at school. They don’t stand out, but they aren’t at the bottom of the social ladder either. They blend in seamlessly with the rest of the crowd at school. If Petra were any more popular, she’s sure that her unexpected friendship with Levi Ackerman would surely turn heads, but she’s so invisible that nobody has noticed aside from her small circle of friends.

“It’s really not that interesting. I’m sure it’s not that different from buying a present for any other guy,” Petra mutters.

“Untrue. Would you buy the same present for Levi that you’d buy for me? Or Eld? Or Gunther?” Auruo asks. He doesn’t falter when Petra shoots him a glare. Instead, he grows more confident, standing up taller and puffing out his chest as Petra refuses to answer. His smile widens. “See? You need us.”

Petra doesn’t agree, but it would be tedious to argue with her friends. If she refuses to accept their help, they would only follow her around the store at what they believed was a discreet distance even though she would easily be able to see them if she turned her head to look over her shoulder. It would be more convenient to just accept their help. At least then she could just buy the first thing they recommend her and return it the next day before continuing her gift shopping by herself.

“I don’t need you, but I’ll allow you to help me,” Petra says and instantly regrets it when she sees her friends pump their fists in victory.

“You’ll be so excited once we help you find the perfect gift for Levi,” Eld says. He links his arm around Petra’s and begins to lead down the aisle.

Auruo links his arm with Petra’s free arm. He’s practically vibrating with happiness. “We’re going to help you find the absolute best gift, Petra. You’re going to wonder why you hadn’t begged for our help earlier,” Auruo grins. He seems to have forgotten the fact that Petra hadn’t begged them for help in the first place.

As it turns out, shopping with her friends is more distracting than it is helpful. Gunther has a tendency to try every article of clothing of interest, insisting that Petra needs a live model to get a good visual of how the clothes fit rather than relying on mannequins and online models. Never mind that Gunther and Levi are completely different body types, the other boys think that it’s an excellent idea and give their honest opinions of Gunther’s modeling, asking him to turn so that they could see the clothing at every angle. If they are looking at food items, Auruo will snatch whatever Petra is looking at from her hands and inspect the list of ingredients. He nods whenever he comes across ingredients he knows and for those he’s less familiar with he will look up on his phone. When he finally finds the ingredient online, he announces it for everyone to hear. (“Malic acid,” Auruo says at one point with a wrinkle of his nose before furiously typing it into his phone, and everyone waits for him to give them the definition before moving onto the next item.) It can be argued that Auruo and Gunther are at least trying to help in their own way, but the same cannot be said for Eld. With Eld, Petra finds that they’re constantly being pulled towards whatever gimmicky, holiday-themed gift that catches Eld’s attention. He’s dragged them to a rack of ugly Christmas sweaters, Christmas stuffed animals with loud bells or bright lights, and Christmas chocolates that are so sweet that it hurts Petra’s teeth just to look at them.

At this particular moment, Eld is having them try out different Christmas headbands. The entire afternoon has been wasted and Petra is no closer to find a gift for Levi than she was at the beginning of the day. She would have plucked something off the shelf and bought it for Levi just to rid herself of her friends, but she has already tried that three times before and each time her friends wrestled whatever random object she had out of her hands because they didn’t believe it was the right gift for Levi. At least their hearts are in the right place.

“Petra, what do you think of this one?” Eld asks, turning around to show her the headband he’s slipped on his head. It looks like an elf hat, bright green with thin red stripes and a large bell dangling at the end.

“Is that for you or for Levi?” Petra sighs. She’s been trying to steer them all away from the holiday section of the stores they visit. She doesn’t think Levi would particularly enjoy a Christmas themed gift for his birthday even though his birthday’s the same day. Her own birthday falls at the beginning of December and she still gets Christmas themed presents.

“Come on, Petra. Lighten up. This is all part of the process,” Gunther says. Petra would normally trust Gunther, but the ridiculous Christmas tree hat on his head makes him lose any credibility he previously had.

“Yeah, all part of the process,” Auruo echoes before placing a headband with a large, sparkly green gift ribbon on Petra’s head. On his own head he wears an enormous pair of reindeer antlers that flicker and light up. “It takes time to find the perfect gift.”

Petra is about to snap and reply that finding a decent gift shouldn’t take an entire day when a familiar voice squeals, “Gift shopping? Us, too!”

Petra is horrified when she turns around and finds Isabel bounding towards them. Behind her are Levi and Farlan, shopping bags hanging off their arms. They look amused to see Petra and her friends with holiday headbands on top of their heads.

Isabel doesn’t seem to notice Petra’s distress. The redhead hooks her arm around Petra’s and smiles widely up at her. “Have you been shopping very long? You guys don’t seem to have very much.”

“That’s probably because they don’t buy everything they think is cute,” Farlan grumbles, setting the bags down at his feet.

“Maybe they’re just unsure of what people want!” Isabel says. She gives Petra another dazzling smile. “If you guys are buying Christmas presents for us, I really like holiday gifts. I think they’re so cute!”

“Oh, is that why you purchased everything with a reindeer or a snowflake on it?” Farlan asks sarcastically as he gestures at the bags he had set on the floor as well as the bags that Levi still carries.

“I’m just trying to get into the Christmas spirit! It’s better than being a scrouge like you!” Isabel huffs.

With shopping bags still hanging on his arms, Levi navigates towards the rack of holiday accessories that Petra and his friends had been looking at earlier. He shifts all the bags onto one arm so that he can look through the racks better. As his friends bicker, his gaze passes over the festive hair ties and headbands. He seems more interested in the simpler ones: hair ties that are plain red or green with gold sparkles or silver stripes, little gingerbread men on plastic hair clips, or a clip with a poinsettia. He eventually pulls out a bundle of hair ties with jingle bells attached to them.

“Hey, Isabel, will these do?” he asks, holding them out to her.

The redhead’s emerald eyes grow in excitement. “Oh, those are so adorable!” she gushes.

“Good. Now you can leave me alone about buying you a Christmas present,” Levi says.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Isabel cheers. She jumps up and down in her excitement and accidentally jostles Petra in the process. She turns her head to apologize but must notice something in Petra’s expression because she composes herself quickly and asks Levi, “What would you want as a present, Levi? It must be difficult buying presents for you because people have to buy things for Christmas and your birthday.”

“A present? I don’t really care much for them,” Levi says. His eyes travel from Isabel to Petra and his gaze settles on the green ribbon on Petra’s head. “As long as the person put thought into it, I’d be grateful. Especially if they took the time to wrap it nicely.”

Something about his gaze is too much for Petra to handle. She has the urge to cover her face with her hands or at least snatch the headband off her head so she looks less like a fool, but all she can do is look down quickly and hope that the flush of her cheeks isn’t too apparent. She’s so lost in her thoughts that she’s startled when she finds Levi gently touching the gift bow on her head.

“This looks nice on you, Petra,” he tells her.

“Th-thanks,” she manages to stammer.

“We need to get going. I need to pick up one of my purchases before the store closes,” Farlan says as he looks down at his watch. He picks up his bag and starts off. Isabel has detached herself from Petra’s side and is skipping behind Farlan. “It was nice bumping into you all. See you later.”

“See you guys at school!” Eld says back, waving off Farlan, Isabel, and Levi. When they’re far enough away, Eld and the rest of Petra’s friends turn towards her with shit-eating grins. “I guess you know what to get Levi for his birthday this year, Pet.”

“Shut up,” Petra mutters but she nonetheless pulls off her headband and stomps towards the cash register to buy it as her friends fall over in laughter behind her.

#petra ral #levi ackerman #snk #modern au #high school au #eld jinn #gunther schultz #auruo bossard #isabel magnolia #farlan church #requests #asks #answered #anon #anonymous

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