Slytherwin - May The Bridges I Burn Light The Way - Tumblr Blog

Richard siken / dave eggers

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THIS IS SO LOVELY

my forever | pjs

pairing: jay x female reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1,427

warnings: blind date, mentions of red strings of fate, not fully explained but it’s for your imagination to build on, yn get sick, jay cries a little, and lots of being in love

a/n: this was supposed to be uploaded on tala’s @laceheartz ​ birthday but then i got the stomach flu and everything i wrote was BLEHHHHH T_T i think i deleted and rewrote this so many times dhjaskdhajk sorry! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, MY SWEET TALA. I know it’s not much but happy belated birthday! have the greatest birthday month ever <3 and happy valentine’s day <3 hehe

Synopsis: You thought it was a cheesy attempt when Jay asked if he’s seen you before. However, you didn’t realize that you were about to say the same thing in return when your eyes met his.

—

It always starts with hello and ends with goodbye when meeting someone new. 

Somehow, when Jay first laid eyes on you from this blind date his friend had helped set him up on, the words in his mouth comes out asking, have we met before? Instead of greeting you with a proper hello. The reason why Jay questions right away before even greeting you isn’t to be rude, but because you look oddly familiar.

“Oh stop it. Did Jake teach you some cheesy tricks?” You question him in return. Your eyes haven’t met with your blind date yet as you were settling in with your seat.

“No, Jake wouldn’t dare. Your sister would probably hurt him,” Jay answers, chuckling along with.

Keep reading

five recipes for an exciting life (in my opinion)

spending enough time creating things with your hands (baking, drawing, scrapbooking, doodling, crocheting, journaling and so on)

keeping track of things like pretty skies, milestones, happy memories, appointments you're looking forward to

listening to music that genuinely makes you feel happy and energetic

making a habit of reaching out to people in a way that's comfortable to you (i send my dad songs he might like, my friend sends me monthly life updates)

being kind to all your five senses → like investing in a scented candle or essential oil dispenser or body mist, having a soft blanket or socks (or a soft animal to pet), listening to birdsong or the rain, looking at the sky more often, and having your favorite foods enough times

promises, promises

jean kirschtein x gn!reader

[1.2k] a self indulgent fic of promises kept and two idiots in love <3

now playing… best part by daniel caesar ft. h.e.r

being woken up in the middle of the night was not how you expected your day to start. but being in the scout regiment meant unpredictability, and that was something that you were still getting used to after your years of being a scout.

something you weren’t used to, however, was seeing your boyfriend jean coming back to you a little battered and bruised from his time away from you. it was always a hard pill to swallow, knowing that he’d be risking his life without you. not being able to be there to back him up, and the uncertainty of the life that the both of you chose was something that you weren’t sure would ever sit right with you.

but seeing him, even a little broken down, was the best part of your week. “shit sorry love. i didn’t mean to wake you,” he amends, slipping out of his boots. a small sigh escapes your lips, and then a chuckle before you’re up and out of your shared bed, closing the distance before you rapidly.

his arms are open for you before you reach him, and they enclose you as soon as you do. you breathe him in and he does the same to you, relishing in the arms of the one that you’ve come to love. that is before you wrinkle your nose and tilt your chin up to look at him. “you stink,” you quip, leaning a bit away from him for emphasis.

you feel his laugh rumble through his chest, through you, and you can’t help the grin that washes over your features. that laugh, it was intoxicating. you strived to be able to hear it endlessly when you were together. before you can tell him so, jean’s voice interrupts your thoughts. “i may stink, but i kept my promise.” his voice is a little more serious than your lighthearted poke at his smell. and your eyes soften as you can see just how tired he is.

the bags under his eyes have deepened. the stubble that was barely noticeable before he left you a week ago is now longer. and your heart aches because even though this is a life you both chose, you hate to see the toll it takes on someone you care so deeply about.

“i know you did jean boy. you always do,” you respond to him, and as you do so he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. moments pass as you both stay like that. relishing in the presence of each other. knowing that the both of you are safe and exactly where you’re supposed to be; with each other.

you can’t help but remember the promise you both made to each other. after you both realized how you felt about each other and the loss of his close friend marco, jean made you promise. at the time you had just thought it had been because he was grieving and was scared to lose again. but the promise was also your motivation every time you set foot into territory that was crawling with titans, at least back then.

now, it seemed, you had bigger problems to deal with. but the promise still remained the same. recited every time either one of you left each other, or were about to risk your lives to save your people. you vowed to come back to each other. whether that meant you had to fight tooth and nail, to crawl, to cross the damn ocean, it was a promise that the both of you intended to keep no matter the circumstances.

eventually jean breaks the silence, causing your eyes to flutter open, only to see he’s already looking at you. “you know it’s because wherever you go i’ll follow, no matter how far. you mean the world to me,” he pauses and you can see how much it’s eating him. the guilt of being away. how hard he was fighting to get back to you. “you’re the sunshine on my life and everyday we’re apart, i’m fighting to see how beautiful you are again. because my memories will never do me justice when i have you right here waiting for me.”

words can’t seem to form over the lump in your throat. choked up, with tears waiting to spill over you press your lips softly to jean’s. he reciprocates immediately, his body moves in sync with yours, like it was made to do so. as if you were the puzzle piece he was missing all along. his hand holds your face so softly, that’s it’s barely a whisper. but it’s there. and so is he. jean. the one man who has been by your side since the beginning of this godforsaken journey of loss.

you break the kiss and immediately he’s there to wipe away the tears that have slipped down your face, thumbs moving soothingly over your cheeks.

“if you love me you could’ve just said that jean. i didn’t know you could be so mushy,” you say through a smile and all he can do now and tug you toward your shared bed.

“that’s a lie and you know it. i’m only like this for you,” he finalizes the statement with your name and you can’t help but relish in that fact of how it sounds coming from him. “plus,” he adds on, “ you know that i would shout from the rooftops how much i love you. as long as everyone knows that your heart is mine.”

he pulls you onto the bed now, the both of you tumbling down onto the mattress. a mess of limbs and jean’s half attempt of taking off his gear. you turn your face to fully look at him and you know that the smile hasn’t left your face yet. to be fair, you’re not sure it ever will. because if life was a movie, then jean would be the best part.

the best parts of you and the world. “are you not going to tell me you love me back?” he questions, flicking at your forehead and you go to bite at his fingers. a grin immediately spreads across his face as well.

“so so needy,” you coo to him, falling back regularly into the routine the both of you had. and maybe that meant that you two were the perfect puzzle pieces, always finding a way to fit into each other's lives without meaning to. “but yes jean. i love you. endlessly. relentlessly. so wholeheartedly. and i will forever be grateful to whoever placed you in my path, because coming home to you is the best part.”

jean pauses, the smile still not leaving his face, before he looks puzzled. “the best part of what love? that’s not a full thought.”

you laugh then. genuine, bright and relieved to be here in the arms of the one you love. how are you supposed to explain to him that it’s, that he’s, the best part of everything you’ve ever known. he brings out the best in you as you do in him. “of everything,” you whisper back to him, and both your smiles never falter.

because you both know that your love runs so deeply that the promise you made years ago will never be lost. as long as you get to come back to the best part of everything.

each other.

note || if you’ve made it this far thanks for reading!! this is the first fic in a while that i’ve been able to crank out and that i actually enjoy. i hope you do too! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <3

AYO AYOOOOO

Virago

Levi x Reader

(A Mulan AU)

When Paradis Island is attacked by Marleyan forces again after ten years of apparent peace, Survey Corps are forced to enroll a male from each family in their military. To save your old and injured father from a certain death, in a world where females aren't allowed to do nothing else than taking care of the household, you pretend to be a man to bring honor to your family, taking part of the Survey Corps guided by the cold, blunt yet handsome Captain Levi.

(pics are not mine, credits to lavlien for cosplay pics, reader's basically padme)

only on Ao3a

- a new chapter out every monday from next week!

PROLOGUE: CALL TO ARMS

CHAPTER I: HONOUR

CHAPTER II:BALANCE

CHAPTER III:ADRENALINE

CHAPTER IV:BLACK

CHAPTER V: ALONE

CHAPTER VI: TRUST

me at 1am without fail

In case anyone is having a bad night:

Here is the fudgiest brownie in a mug recipe I’ve found

Here are some fun sites

Here is a master post of Adventure Time episodes and comics

Here is a master post of movies including Disney and Studio Ghibli

Here is a master post of other master posts to TV shows and movies

*tucks you in with fuzzy blanket* *pats your head*

You’ll be okay, friend <3

have to thank tumblr for romanticizing absolutely everything. i'll be washing dishes and peeling oranges thinking of love languages its insane

maybe the purpose of life is to fill it with as many positive things as you can. regardless of how bad life gets, don’t let it steal your personality, your hobbies, your style. after coming home from a bad day at work maybe you need to sit down and read a nice book. after studying non-stop for so long, maybe you should finish that crochet project you’ve been putting off because you’re so busy. maybe we should prioritize the things we love, the things that make us happy, and not just the things we’re forced to do to survive. in this society, a little peace from the outside world is important. don’t give up on the things that make you happy. don’t forget about yourself.

FUCK IT HURTS SO BAD BUT IN A GOOD BAD WAY IF THAT MAKE SENSE

Lonely

summary: while you're injured and in oblivion, Levi asks you to wake up when he comes back after the war... if he does.

✧ pairing: levi x fem reader

✧ includes: angst, major character death, manga chapter 139, afterlife au, mentions of injuries, very angsty

✧ a/n: not me hurting my own feelings when writing this 😭 this is inspired by something from Lucifer S 5B, and of course, this song by mgk.

“then he said goodbye way too soon, and this don't feel right without you.”

“... that's our approach.” Armin concludes the plan of operation to Levi as he quietly held his infant son in his arms and watched you sleep on the infirmary bed.

On the way home from the rumbling, you acquired some major injuries and contusions that currently put you in a coma. It's only been a couple of days, but everyone was still worried.

“Okay, is that all?”

“Yes, captain.” Armin answers.

“Alright, Can you excuse us.” He immediately obliged at Levi's orders, proceeding to the doors and quietly closing it, letting the three of you have your private time

“Listen...” Levi sighs, he knows you couldn't hear him, but a small part of him hoped you could, and so he's now going to tell you what's about to happen. “We are at war now, and things are not looking good for us.” He gets up from the rocking chair to put your son in a small bassinet, carefully tucking him in with the blanket you've sewn for him, with his name neatly embroidered on the corner— Scout.

Taken from your group, Scouts, it also means, the first explorer. You are all fighters, and ever since Scout came to your lives, you had more reason to fight. All you want for him is to be able to freely explore the world for it's beauty and not the abomination you are going through. It was a promised you carved on a stone

“If I'm being candid here, this doesn't feel so right without you, I knew how much you'd love to fight in this.” Levi says, now fixing the blankets of your own. “But you have to rest.”

“When... when I return, please be up.” He asks, running a hand up your arm. “I have to go now.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Don't go anywhere, brat.”

It turns out that every man must have a peaceful place to contemplate. A safe place, if you will.

and if you don't have such a place, well, it's a good idea to find one.

[Name]'s eyes slowly open to the harsh rays of the sun and immediately, by instinct, she looks away only to feel her whole body laid on dewy green grass.

In that moment, her surroundings start to stir clear, feeling the cool breeze hit her skin as she sits up to meet the endlessly colorful blankets of different plants and flowers extending through the fields and up the hill.

a flock of crane birds flew above as she got up, now feeling the hem of her soft, white, chiffon dress tickling her calves as it flowed through the wind.

It felt so peaceful and tranquil for [Name], feeling no pain and worries. Any negative thing– just simply didn't exist in this place. It's like she could stay here forever, exploring every square feet of the land.

[Name]'s head turns to get a full look of everything, before realizing that she had the whole place to herself. No one else was in sight.

The grass was greener, and the sky was more vibrant than she could remember. Animals she's never seen before walked by the woods and the birds chirped a beautiful song as she walks down the hill, getting a sight of where she was.

It was until she sees what seemed like a picnic spot on a nearby area. [Name] carefully made her way to the spot to observe the setting.

On a blanket was baskets of bread and pastries, a bottle of wine, and petals of roses scattered around. She couldn't help but crash on the blanket and lay herself down.

After a moment of watching the clouds pass up the blue sky, [Name] decides to pour herself a glass of wine, propping herself up before taking a sip. It was even more fine than she could remember– everything deemed to be better in this place. Where the hell was she?

“[Name]!” A distant voice took [Name] out of her moment, her eyes and ears starting to look from the source. “[Name]!” The voice called another one, now seemingly more loud and clear.

“[Name]!” She finally gets ahold of the voice and finds the right direction, slowly getting on her feet as she saw the figure standing.

“[Name]!” The figure waved one of their arms while she slowly approached, now seeing the person clearly. Is that...

“Levi!” [Name] finally identified the person, who turns out to be her lover all along. She wasted no time in getting to him, running as fast as she could as her feet stomped through the grass.

Levi couldn't help but smile at the sight of finally getting to see [Name] run towards him in such excitement and full of joy. Until she trips on a small rock she didn't notice, having fallen down face first which caused Levi to laugh.

“What?!” [Name] immediately stands herself up and dusted off the dirt. “This really is real.” She remarked, while Levi still chuckled at her little accident. “I hate you.” She rolls her eyes. “You love me, brat.” He replies, finally having her closer from a few feet away.

“I told you not to go anywhere.” He says, now taking a couple steps closer to her. “Right...” [Name] nods, remembering hearing Levi's voice earlier. How long has it been since then?

“Wait, what are you doing here?” She realized that he's in the same place at her. Was he okay? What is he doing here? Did something happen to him? [Name] had so many questions.

Her question made Levi freeze on the spot. He wasn't ready to answer that just yet. But he needed to tell her a couple things, and that is his priority right now. He's going to be honest and direct.

“I'm here to tell you something...” He states, gently taking her hands in his as she looks up in response, ready to listen intently.

“We won, my love.” Levi stated, bringing a smile onto her face. “The war... yeah...” She remembered Levi saying something about the war starting. “We won that?”

“Yes.” [Name] almost jumps on him when she hears the news. It's safe to say that humanity is finally free.

“Let's go home then, my love.” She offers a hand to Levi, on which he only looks at. Her response broke his heart into pieces. It's time.

“I want to... spend time with you here first.” He spoke. “Alright.” She agreed.

Levi lets her hook their arms together as they quietly walk back towards the picnic spot she found earlier, butterflies flying past them before taking their seats on the blanket.

“[Name], I need you to listen.” Levi wanted to be honest to her, and she needed to hear what he had to say. “Yes?”

“While the world is finally free from the powers of titans, sadly, I cannot come back.” He truthfully spoke. [Name]'s heart drops to her stomach, “Wh-why?” She fearfully asked.

“It's too late for me.” He says. [Name] never knew that such five words could make her world fall apart. and with that, it's as if she gets a vision of what happened to Levi. after killing Zeke and eliminating Eren's titan, she had a vision of Levi sitting by a boulder, seeing all of his friends.

“Oh...” She exclaims. “Yeah...”

“What, what about me?” She asks. “You can still go back, your condition is doing better.” Levi answers. “What about Scout?” [Name] says more of worried than a question.

Levi didn't want to leave his son. But sadly, he cannot control that. He could do something else though, and that is to make sure that [Name] makes it back for their child.

“[Name]...” Levi softly calls for her name before shifting behind her, and holding her close into an embrace.

“You know I'll never really leave you, right?” He asks, his fingers keeping her hair tamed from the slight wind gushing.

“But, while I was fighting, I knew at some point, I may–” “I know.” She interrupted his words.

“Dying is exhausting.” Levi says. “You know, as a soldier, when you feel like, you've done everything for everyone... Give them the will to live, will to fight, but I never understood this level of exhaustion...” He sighs, eyes fixed on the colorful fields in front of them.

“But, there came a point that the desire to rest overrides the desire to live.” His words hurt to hear but it was the truth.

“Tell Scout... everything I said to you here. and that I'll always be by your side and I will never stop loving you, not even from a different life.” He states. “I love you.” Levi simply finished.

[Name] let her head fall on his shoulder as they reminisced the sight in front of them.

“It's so beautiful here. Why don't you want me to stay?” [Name] asks.

“It's not time yet.” Levi shook his head.

“But there is no pain here.”

“I've only been here a while but I do kind of miss it.” He admits. “It's not your time yet. Our baby needs you.” He says.

“I'm tired.” She admits. Levi huffed before getting on his feet and offering a hand to her. “Get up, brat.” He then shows her the flower crown he's been making the whole time they had during the conversation.

[Name] obliged immediately, now both her hands intertwined with Levi's as they peacefully stood on the grass, letting the breeze flow through their body, gushing their hair and clothes along with it.

Levi didn't waste no time before resting his forehead on [Name]'s, knowing well that this will be the last time that he's gonna get to hold her this close.

If you know how something's gonna end, doesn't mean you can't enjoy the ride, am I right?

[Name] realizes that they both had white attires on, petals of flowers scattered through the ground by their feet and the birds continue to sing a beautiful song.

“We never had the chance to get married.” She points out. “I know.” Levi painfully admits. “I wish I could give this to our son.” He added. [Name] gulped nervously before speaking, “Me too.”

“Okay, what do you want me to promise?” She asks.

“Make sure... you and Scout know it's okay to cry, don't let this build up and ruin you.” He starts.

“You don't have to be strong every moment of every day, it's okay to fall apart and be a mess.”

[Name] didn't know how hard she was crying when he felt Levi's palm brush against her cheek and kissed the tears away.

“And don't forget to clean our room, especially my office. Because I will check.” A bittersweet laugh comes from the two of them at his words.

[Name]'s laughter died after a few moments, now letting her face level with his neck.

“and it's okay for you to fall in love again... You have my permission.”

“I don't want that.” [Name] denied. He is the love of her life and will always be.

“Me either, but, just in case it comes to that... I need you to know that you are worthy of love and you deserve everything nice in this life.” Of course Levi doesn't want [Name] to forget him, but if she is put in that situation, he wouldn't want her to suffer the wondering and questioning. He's simply saving her the pain.

“And remember– to torture yourself less and don't beat yourself up. Because you deserve to be happy.” He finished up with a kiss on her head.

“You are the love of my life. Everything that I am, and all that I have, is yours forever.” [Name] states, now triggering the waterworks from Levi. That might've been the most beautiful thing someone's ever said to him.

“I love you so much.” He simply answers, continuing to hold [Name] in an embrace as they let the time pass, neither not wanting to let go of each other. He wished this moment would last forever, but he knows, that cannot happen.

He may not be able to stay with her, but he knows, at least, with his embrace, forever stays in her heart.

“Levi!” A faint feminine voice calls from a distance in which Levi recognizes almost immediately, taking his eyes up to the source.

“Mom...” He sees the familiar figure of Kuchel standing by a few meters behind [Name], who waved her hand at him. [Name] knew that it was time for him to leave. She was never ready for this, and she still isn't.

“[Name]...” Levi looks back at [Name] who had a thin smile on her face, looking at him with such adoration and love. She was taking in the last sight she's ever gonna see of him. “Levi...” She whispered.

“It's alright...” She lets his lips fit with hers in a slow rhythm,

“You go, we'll be fine.” She says through the kiss. “It's ok, I'll see you again.” Now pulling away, tracing figures on his arm with her thumb.

“I'll see you again, my love.” He says. and just like that, [Name] lets go of Levi's hands and let him reunite with his mother, her body already missing his touch as she watched the mother and son finally meet each other again.

“Mother...” Levi almost jumps for an embrace while Kuchel happily held him in her arms. “Levi!”

This was all [Name] needed to make sure her lover is going to be all fine in this place. They get to say goodbye, bind their promises, and she got the assurance of him being free of pain now. He can be truly happy now, but she's sad she can't witness all of it.

“[Name]...[Name]?...[Name]...” [Name] started to hear faint voices and ringing in her head, entrancing her into a dizzy and disoriented state, the sight of Levi and Kuchel coming to a blur as her head felt heavier and heavier by the second, now her body hitting the ground before everything went black.

“Call the doctors! She's up!” Armin called.

“Where's Scout?” Was the first thing [Name] asked once she gained full consciousness.

“Right here, ma'am!” Connie spoke from the couches, letting her see the infant safely sleeping in his arms

“Okay, everyone, I want a full work-up.” A doctor enters the room, starting the protocol process to check [Name]'s condition.

This procedure took about ten minutes, as they made sure she was in a better and more stable state. and to their surprise, [Name] was so much stronger and better than they expect to. and they could even permit her to go home. But she needed a few more hours for observation.

“I hate to do this.” Mikasa whispers to Armin right beside [Name]'s private room doors. No one wants to be the bearer of bad news. “Me too, but the Captain would've been happy to let her go back home.” Armin explained.

“Hi.” Mikasa nervously greets as they enter the room, seeing [Name] pack some of her belongings and a sleeping Scout on the bed.

“What is it? Did you find a titan that managed to survive?” She asks, noticing the horrified look on Mikasa and Armin's faces.

“No! Nothing like that.” Armin denied. “What then?”

“I-it's about Captain Levi. We have to tell you now–” Mikasa rambled.

“He's fine.” [Name] simply spoke.

“No, he's not... Something happened, he–” Armin's sentence was cut off by a very unexpected yet odd answer from her. “Levi is with his mother.” [Name] says.

“and Erwin, Hange, squad Levi one, and Isabel, and Furlan.” She enumerated. [Name] once again heard the chirping birds and the wind gushing for a moment as she remembered her last moments with her love.

Mikasa and Armin shares a look as [Name] packed the last of her items before carrying the infant in her arms. “You kids should go get some rest, I'm going home.” She advised.

“Yes ma'am!” The two quickly saluted, watching [Name] exit the doors and make her way to the location of the home that Levi had bought for them.

The sight of the way back home wasn't pleasing for [Name], as the town she once called home was now almost completely damaged, which made her question if their home was still intact. It's quite far, but, who knows?

[Name] sees Scout's eyes start to flutter open, and she immediately shushes the child, covering his eyes with the hood of his jacket– actually, Levi's jacket, not wanting the innocent infant to see their surroundings.

After an hour of walking, and talking to her son, [Name] finally reached the woods, beyond happy to see that their cabin was still in one whole piece, ready for them to come home to. Although the thought of Levi not being with them immediately saddened her.

[Name] made her way to their shared bedroom, carefully placing down the sleeping child on the sheets while she fixed up and got ready for bed.

The child was sleeping on her side, so [Name] had no choice but to lay on Levi's side of the bed. She immediately picked up the faint smell of his shampoo and fresh laundry come from the pillow, bringing a smile up to her face.

[Name] knew that scents can fade in an instant, so she wasted no time in burying her head on it and held it close, as if it was Levi she was embracing.

“We miss you already, you know that?” Her tear hits the pillow, and she immediately wipes it off, now laying on her back to face the ceiling.

“I love you, Levi... Never leave our side.”

i remember this being the reason why i got back into reading fanfics 🥺 so beautifully written and one of the best fics ive read. still heartbroken author discontinued the fic 🥺

a line without a hook

pairing. levi ackerman x fem!reader

synopsis. Had you known that such a mysterious, brooding man would throw you into a series of unfortunate events, maybe you wouldn’t have saved him from the women crowding him into a corner that night at the first ball of the season.

But had you known that you, of all the women who had fawned over him and begged to be spared at least a glance from someone as beautiful as Levi Ackerman, were the only one who had ever felt the warmth of him smile.  

So maybe, just maybe, all the chaos that had been birthed from your first meeting was worth it. All the blood that had been spilled and the tears that have been shed was all worth it.

tags. 19th century!au, angst, fluff, swearing, slight suggestive themes, kinda slow burn, mentions of violence, slight themes of misogyny, age gap

notes. did i write this because i couldn’t stop binge watching pride and prejudice? oh, most definitely. do i have any shame that i recite lines to myself? kinda…just kinda. 

chapters

part one.  “do you dance, mr. ackerman?” 

part two. “i have a proposition to make.” 

part three. “merely tolerable, really.” 

part four. “what have i discovered? very little.” 

part five. “what a shame for i dearly love to laugh.” 

part six. “i cannot accept you.” 

part seven. “doors are meant to be knocked on, mr. ackerman.”

part eight. “don’t be mean.” 

part nine. “what business do you have with me?” 

part ten. “she’s safely hidden in my heart.” 

part eleven. “am i to be held accountable?”

part twelve. “once upon a dream…” 

part thirteen. “i see you’ve kept your promise.” 

*posting begins 02/13/21 and every saturday onwards

*tag list is open!

copyright © 2021 tamagochiie, all works and writing are reserved.

tag list: @castellandiangelo @astronomyturtle @regalillegal @oshuncheyenne @drapetomaniaac  @whalerus @hinaamaya @ggsmashgg  @kyosugi92 @daikushiji @acker-baby @lundabean @moonxochu @melodiamore​ @unlikelyfestivalshepherdhuman @osmosly @halparkebitch​​ @leashaoki @bonkybabe @myeg1993 @chikenbitches @kinda-sleepy @omlbarnes @pukahanchan @ahtsumumiya @idiotic–punk @megumiisee @arthemus-o-negative @primusk​ @meazrahhh​

— Status: completed.

— Pairing: Jean x fem!Reader, friends to lovers.

— General info: 18+, modern college au, multi-chapter fic.

— Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, jealousy, virginity loss, mentions of underage drinking.

— Summary: Who would you fall for if not for each other? 

Links: AO3 | Masterlist  

Keep reading

WHERE IS THAT JEAN AUGUST INSPIRED FIC I CANT FIND IT PLS HELP ME

"You're taking fucking forever in there."

You ignore Levi's irritated comment as you fiddle with the buckles on your shoes, too tiny to clasp easily and at a part of your ankle that requires your legs to be both tilted and bent to access them. A lethal combination in opposition to your dexterity.

"Are you sewing that dress by hand or what?"

His voice is nearer to your bedroom door now, a little bit more difficult to tune out with only the thin wood between you.

"No, my little mice helpers are doing that for me while I sing to them," you call back, but your words are light and flippant where his were heavy with the weight of his impatience.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did have your own army of vermin with the amount of junk you've got in this apartment." You can't see Levi's face but you know he's looking around your living room with his nose crinkled in the particular way he does when he finds something distasteful.

You scoff as you finally succeed in doing up your second buckle. You lift your head so you can snap your rebuttal directly towards your closed door.

"Sorry we can't all live like minimalist monks!"

Levi snorts in reply. "I'm hardly a minimalist, I just don't accumulate needless things."

"You only own one bowl, one plate, and one mug."

You've known Levi since college, and you're fairly certain he has the same amount of possessions filling the entirety of his one-bedroom apartment that he did in his one-room dorm a decade prior. Probably the same ones, too.

"That way no one ever tries to come over for meals, it's clever."

"It's spartan."

There's a light thump on the other side of your door, and you wonder what it may have been.

"Didn't you ever read those Marie Kondo books?" Levi's voice is impossibly close now, like he's got his forehead pressed to your door. The thump makes a little more sense.

You laugh a bit to yourself as you imagine the way he's slumped against the expanse of wood, long-dressed in his suit and ready to go where you've taken your time getting ready. It's not your fault Levi showed up thirty minutes earlier than he said he would to pick you up for the company party your shared workplace was throwing that evening--though you should have expected it, given he's never been tardy to anything in the entire time the two of you had been friends.

"Can't say I did," you reply as you cross your bedroom, leaning over in your mirror to get one last close-up look at your face. You run your thumbnail against the edge of your bottom lip where your gloss was slightly ill-applied. "Why do you ask?"

"S'all that," Levi sighs, "'spark joy' bullshit. Don't keep things in your space if they don't make you happy or whatever."

You smile at your own reflection, eyes flickering to the image of your bedroom door you can see in the glass.

"And what if all my 'junk' makes me happy?"

There's some shuffling, and a moment later Levi mutters: "How can an issue of a magazine from 2010 make you happy?"

You suspect he's plucked an old copy of some fashion magazine off the stack resting on the bookshelf beside your door. You've actually been meaning to throw those away for a while, but you don't tell him that.

"How can you manage to not find happiness in anything?"

"That's not true," he argues.

"Oh yeah?" you counter, adjusting the way your necklace is resting against your collarbones. "Name something that you keep around just because it makes you happy."

"My kettle."

"Nope," you answer immediately, grabbing your purse off the end of your bed and heading towards the door, "that serves a practical, utilitarian purpose. I mean something useless that you just like. Just something you think is pretty."

You grasp the handle and pull it open, and you take Levi by surprise--he barely catches himself with a hand on either side of the door frame to keep from crashing into you.

There's a little pink mark at the centre of his brow where he'd been leaning against the door, and his eyes are wide.

"You ready to go?" you ask him, tucking your bag under your arm.

He's frozen, his expression still a little taken aback.

"What?" you ask him, suddenly self conscious. Your hands tug at the material of your dress nervously. "Should I change?"

"No," he says, soft but sure. "You look... fine."

Your face pinches.

"Fine?"

"Nice," Levi corrects himself, finally looking away. He fiddles with the stack of magazines he'd been complaining about moments prior. "You look nice."

"Wow, Ackerman, with compliments like that it's shocking that you have to take your best friend as your date to the company party and not one of the countless women I'm sure are knocking at your door."

Levi narrows his eyes, tossing you a withering look.

"You're the one who said we should go together."

"That's because I want to blackout at the open bar, and you're the only person I know who turns down a drink on the corporate dollar," you say with a bright smile.

Levi tuts in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes wandering away from you again. "Charming."

A beat of silence passes.

Levi sucks in a little breath.

"You."

"Pardon?" you ask, and not even because he said it so quietly you barely understood him, but because it doesn't quite make sense.

"Something I keep around just because I like it," Levi says, his eyes fixed so intently on the outdated magazine stack that you're surprised the pages don't burst into flames. "Just because it makes me happy..."

Your heart stutters in its rhythm, a sudden weakness in your knees you can't chalk up to the height of your heels as easily as you may have liked to.

"...Just because it's pretty."

You swallow thickly.

His eyes meet yours.

The time and space between the two of you is thick and sweet like honey, and you wade through it slowly as you fight to find your words. You swear you can almost taste it as your tongue peeks out to moisten your already glossy lips.

"We should probably go," you say quietly, reaching out to adjust the lapel of Levi's suit. If your touch lingers a moment longer than it ought to, if your fingers brush against him in a way that friends' shouldn't, neither of you says anything about it.

Levi nods and clears his throat, taking the slightest step away from you towards your front door. "We gotta get you back before midnight after all, Cinderella."

You blink, a little confused, a little dazed, a little bit of a head rush still clouding your thoughts.

"The mice, remember?" Levi offers when he sees your curious look, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Oh," you laugh, letting your head hang as you nod slightly. "Right."

The two of you make your way down to the parking lot outside of your apartment building towards Levi's car, and you watch as the lights flash when he unlocks it.

"I've got two mugs, by the way," Levi says as he pulls the driver's side door open, and you pause with your hand on the handle of your own. He looks at you over the roof of his car, his eyes suddenly firmer than you'd seen them all night. More insistent. More sure.

You tilt your head, confused.

He ducks down to slide into his seat, but not before calling back to you one last time:

"The other one is yours."

“let’s kiss, just to see what it’s like” (jean kirstein x reader) (wc: 850+)

inspired from this list of prompts

Drunken nights spent with Jean in the confines of your childhood bedroom weren’t all that unfamiliar to you. 

You may have outgrown the stains on your rug and the neon colors on your walls, but you’ve yet to get tired of the man sitting across from you, his long legs folded like a pretzel as he takes a large swig of the alcohol in his cup. It’s warm, familiar, you think, as you slowly intoxicate yourselves with cheap wine and giggles about nothing in particular. 

However, what is unfamiliar are the words he casually bares; they cut through the air like a steel sword as the warmth of the room turns into a sudden overbearing and sweltering heat. 

“Let’s kiss.”

You try your best to not choke on the sweet liquor you’re sipping on, but a tiny cough bubbles up from your throat regardless of your attempts to swallow it down. 

“Sorry?”

“Let’s kiss,” he repeats without hesitation, but after carefully assessing the panicked look on your face, he’s quick to elaborate with a shrug of his shoulders, “Just to see what it’s like.”

Just to see what it’s like? 

You scoff out of uneasiness, a weak attempt of playing your anxiety off as annoyance at his flirty manner. He’d always been one to make teasing comments, but they were jokes, they didn’t matter, because you were friends. 

But if you’re truly just friends, then why does your heart feel like lead as it sinks down into your stomach at his words? 

You continue to blankly stare at him, waiting for his just kidding or in your dreams to come, but they never do. His honey eyes simply bore right back into yours, almost as if he’s challenging you to respond to him. Your body instantly reacts to his suggestion by heating up all over, so you do what you do best—you ignore him and deflect his words. 

“You’re drunk,” you simply state.  

“Tipsy,” he quickly corrects, “And so are you, so it cancels out.”

Again, there’s no point in arguing with him when your body feels like it’s on fire, so you scoff once more before hiding your flushed cheeks behind a drawn out sip of your drink. You pray it’s enough to be a successful attempt at hiding how flustered you actually are. In fact, anyone who doesn’t know you would think that you’re completely and utterly irritated by the persistent idiot currently pestering you. 

However, Jean knows you. He knows your ins and outs like a book he’s written himself. He knows your hardcover illustration and the soft pages of your delicate chapters. He knows your crooked spine and your personal annotations. So no, your aloof facade doesn’t sway him—if anything, it lights a fire beneath him to keep persisting. 

“C’mon,” he ushers you with a light bump of his shoulder. The liquid in your cup gently swooshes around the plastic ring from the impact as he continues, “You’ve never thought about what it’d be like?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

He’s taunting you—getting you all riled up for his own personal amusement. He’s purposefully pushing all of your buttons he’s oh so familiar with, just to get a rise out of you. But, you’re not going to give it to him—not without a little bit of a fight, at least. 

“Maybe,” you bite back with an edge, as you down the rest of your drink and turn towards him. His raised eyebrows tell you that he’s a bit surprised at your courage, but still entertained with what he’s set into motion. 

You’re eyeing him directly, silently challenging him to do something. If he’s quick to talk and tease, he might as well prove himself. You’re eyes fall from his own down to his lips, before quickly returning to his stare, “What if I am? What are you gonna do about it, huh?”

For a second, a split second, you feel like you’ve won. Jean is almost silent as he surveys your smirk, revealing your own satisfaction with your response. 

Your upper hand is short lived because suddenly he’s closing the space between the two of you (not that there was much to begin with). He’s overwhelmingly close and yet it’s still not enough—you still find yourself wishing he was closer. His lips are ghosting over your own, barely allowing them to touch but you feel the warmth of his breath as he exhales gently. 

Millimeters seem like miles as his lips stay there, waiting for you. Itching to touch one another, but stubbornly grounding yourselves as you mentally beg the other to move. Like a game of chicken, the two of you silently mock one another as you wait to see who bites first. 

And it’s him. 

“The second you give me the okay, I’m going to kiss you,” he whispers so quietly, you wouldn’t have heard him if you weren’t already staring at his lips, “That’s what I’m gonna do about it. Okay?”

You release a breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in, and Jean’s close enough to almost swallow it.  His eyes are pleading you to give him the green light, to want this as badly as he does. 

And you do—your response is music to his ears. 

“Okay.”

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 (jean kirstein x reader)

inspired from this list of prompts | wc: 1.2k | not proof read we die like men

Jean doesn’t think there’s anything worse in this world than feeling helpless. 

He’s felt it far too many times before. Pungent like the bitter iron of blood in one’s mouth, it has become a feeling that he’s sickeningly familiar with. 

He feels it when his mother calls him in tears, baring her fear of getting older and leaving him forever. He feels it when he watches the news, tragedy after tragedy decorating the screen with a faux sense of sympathy from the news anchors narrating the horrific details. He feels it with you, when you close yourself off from him and deny him the privilege of knowing your worries, of soothing them with the tenderness of his bare hands. 

With a heavy heart, Jean swallows the pill that today is one of those days.

He notices the familiar sinking coil in his stomach when you barely greet him good morning, instead mumbling something along the lines of having a busy day ahead of you. He senses it seeping deeper where he stands in the hallway, doing nothing but watching you lock yourself in your office, shut him out and refuse his help as you succumb to the constrictive weight that is your work. 

“Take a small break,” his voice is cautious, slightly pleading, as he makes his way over to where you hunch over your laptop. You would’ve have even knew he was there—let alone watching you from the doorway for the past 15 minutes—if he hadn’t finally spoken up. 

You spare a glance at the clock, reading a grim 4:37pm. You’d been working since seven this morning. Jean knows you haven’t eaten—hell, Jean knows you haven’t even left your office—since then.

“Can’t,” you meekly wave him away, distracted by the amount of unfinished work sitting on your plate. Dozens of emails waiting to be read and replied to, an article in need of analyzing and proofreading, a few schedules meetings dispersed in between webinars and phone calls and—

“For me?"  

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dancin’ in your levi’s, drunk under a streetlight ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

jean kirstein x reader | wc: 0.8k+ | L’s FOLKLORE event

You hear him before you see him, which is odd, given his usually towering frame. 

You’d somehow gotten saddled with the task of escorting an extremely intoxicated Jean home from a friend’s birthday party. While you both had a few drinks, you agreed to remain sober enough to be the brains of the operation for the night. After all, its usually the other way around—Jean doesn’t have enough fingers to count all of the times he’s carried your sorry ass from the bar. 

You learn that Jean’s a fast drunk when you lose sight of him within seconds. On the walk home, you stopped to double check that your phone was in your bag. Your eyes were off of him for five seconds, at most—but that was all Jean needed to sprint ahead of you and turn a corner, completely vanishing from your line of sight. 

“C’mere for a second,” like a siren, his call echoes off of the surrounding buildings and summons you closer to him. 

Turning the corner of the brick building, your boyfriend comes into vision. He stands up straight, grinning like a fool beneath the dim illumination of a streetlight. A few moths flutter and dance in the glow directly above him. 

His grin grows even wider as you shuffle towards him with an unimpressed look.

“You’re being an absolute nuisance,” leaves your lips with a frown. 

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it’s a beautiful night — jean kirstein

22:14pm

wheezy laughter fills the room as you both collapse back onto the couch. the strewn around bottles of mulled wine and half-discarded carton of eggnog are what you’re choosing to blame your acceptance at jeans offer to dance on. it’s not that you don’t like dancing with him- you love it actually- but the boyish spontaneity that usually makes you laugh and roll your eyes was nothing but endearing when your adorable wine-drunk boyfriend had insisted on a competition to the music of the montage as Elf played on the tv screen.

“i totally won!” you say, breathless and smiling and in love.

“oh you’re in deep denial, did you see my cartwheel?”

“cartwheels aren’t dancing, you’re just a show off.” you pinch at his cheek that’s dusted pink from his efforts in parading around the coffee table with his legs in the air.

jean sighs and accepts defeat, if not just to see your eyes shine as you pump your fists in the air in obnoxious triumph. when your fists flail a little too close to his face he’s quick to grab them and lift your hands to graze his lips over your knuckles. he kisses your pulse-point on the inside of your wrist, making his way up your arms.

“and what––” he begins to pepper featherlight kisses along your collarbone, igniting flames in your chest, “does my oh so humble winner wish for their prize?”

you release your hands from the warmth of his to press down on his chest and hover over him, situating yourself over his clothed cock.

“i can have anything?” you blink at him innocently.

“anything.” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a dizzying kiss. jean thinks that your kisses have to be laced with valium, addictive and over far too soon. he groans and chases your mouth for his next hit when you pull away a fraction. your chuckle is light and your breath warm against his ear as you lean into him.

the moan of his name has him twitching in his pants as you press your core against him, “jean i want––” he’s rolling his hips and humming to urge you to speak before he starts stating what he wants. his breath hitches as you lick a slow stripe from from his jugular to just behind his ear, his heartbeat thrumming faster under the heat from your tongue.

“i want cake.” you state, pulling away to stare down at him, your eyes sparkling and lips pulled up in mischief.

“you–– what?” he pouts, incredulous and horny and pretty sure no supermarket is open this late on christmas eve to satiate your cravings.

he audibly groans when you rise off of the couch to stop straddling him, taking your warmth and ignoring his desire. jeans hands reach out for you but you’re quick to sidestep him and make your way towards the entryway.

you take on a singsong tone, “c’mon jeanie! shoes on, your winner wants cake!” and jean shamelessly stares at your ass as you bend down to tie your converse laces. he glowers at you with no real malice as you snicker and throw a scarf at his face and his jacket over the half-hard bulge in his pants.

“you’re lucky i love you..”

22:50pm

“damn.” you frown at what’s shaping up to be your third failed attempt to claim your prize as you stare at the cake-less shelves of the 24h gas station. the door chimes as you exit, catching jeans attention and he turns to face you. you perk up at the sight of him–– his orange beanie making his hair spike against his forehead, matching scarf wrapped up to his nose- courtesy of you- and his long eyelashes dusted with the light snowfall that surrounds you. he’s too cute for his own good.

you sigh dramatically and bury your head in his chest, wrapping your hands around him as you feel his chin come to rest atop your head. “think i’m ready to call it a night..” a low hum in his chest rumbles against your cheek.

he’s silent for a moment, is arms a comforting weight draped around your waist. “how bad d’you want that cake?” he asks carefully.

“more than anything in the world, jean.” you deadpan.

his fingers begin to toy with the hem of your shirt, exposing your skin to the crisp, blue air and making you shiver. he clears his throat and you look up at him, but his eyes dart to the floor in a shy manner that’s unlike him. he mutters lowly, “there’s this chapel on the boulevard,” and your brows raise. “they, uh, they give out cake to the newly wed couples? like vegas! but it’s like,” he swallows the fear that feels like marbles in his throat and continues, “it’s like really good cake, y’know? i’m talking costco sheet cake level good, babe it’s like––”

“jean.” you whisper, feeling him tighten his grip around your waist.

“it’s just a dumb idea but i mean… we could always get it like, annulled or whatever in the morning? i got maybe 40 bucks on me? probably enough for a marriage licence but it’d be one expensive cake––”

“jean.” you say, firmly enough to bring his eyes back up to you. the tops of his cheeks are flushed and you can tell it’s not from the cold. tilting your head to place a chaste kiss to his lips, you feel him sigh against you.

“are you asking me to marry you, you idiot?”

“i’m… giving you an ultimatum for cake.” he huffs.

the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on you, despite the lingering buzz from the decent amount of spiced wine still swimming in your system, but maybe it’s the devestating, hopeful look in his eyes or the fact that you’re desperately fucking in love with him that has you saying,

“yes.”

“yes?”

“yes.” you start to laugh, but jean is quick to swallow it down. his hands are cold as he cups your face, but with his tongue against yours and your blood fizzling with want in your veins, you’ve never felt warmer.

23:01pm

“jean we don’t have time for this!” you call after him as he exits the car to jog back to the gas station door. it’d been all of 3 minutes since you’d gotten ‘engaged’ and he’d started the car, beginning to dive before slamming on the breaks and shouting, “rings!” you barely processed his train of thought before he was leaping from his seat and fishing for coins in his jacket pocket.

craning your neck out the window, you see his tall figure crouched by the kids’ toy machines and can’t help the smile that fights its way onto your face. “you’re ridiculous.” you say as he clambers back into the car, grinning and opening his large palms to reveal four little plastic packets.

“pick two.” he commands “one from each hand.”

you sigh, reminding him that the chapel closes in an hour, but nevertheless reach out to choose two. the giddy ripping of plastic reveals the packets contents: for you, a cherry ring pop and a ‘sapphire’ ring and for jean, blue raspberry and a ‘diamond’.

the plastic rings are comically small, with yours unable to go past the knuckle of your ring finger and jeans just about fitting his pinky. he seems more interested in the sweets anyway, “if you kiss me long enough after these our tongues’ll be purple.” he smirks and wiggles his eyesbrows, his diamond clad hand coming to rest dangerously high on your thigh.

you swat at his arm but make no real move to remove his hand. “just drive.”

23:36pm

the chapel is pretty much what you’d expect from a vegas-style hole in the wall on christmas eve, absolutely deserted. you actually startled the receptionist who was on the edge of sleep when you’d barrelled in with a gust of wind on your tails. he’d sighed and handed you some paperwork that you both promptly filled out, taken the grand total of 37.40 from jean who so chivalrously offered up his 40 dollars, and gestured to the hallway where you were now waiting. holy shit you were waiting to get married.

jean was sucking on his ring pop, his lips already tinged blue as you fidgeted on the hard seat of the chair. he said nothing, just reached over and laced his fingers with yours and began running his thumb in soothing lines along your hand.

“got your vows ready?” he pipes up.

“oh yeah. all here.” you tap your temple. “you?”

“uh huh. wanna hear ‘em?”

you nod and he says your name, becoming serious.

“you are… the apple of my eye. the ache in my loins. the throb in my–– ow!” the whack to the back of his head echoes through the empty corridor.

“you’re insufferable.” you mutter, bringing your ring pop to your lips to hide your smile.

“and you’re stuck with me.” he wiggles his pinky in your face–– you wouldn’t be surprised if that ring is permanently stuck on his finger, “foreverrr.”

you suppose he meant for it to sound teasingly menacing, but it just makes your smile widen and heart race and brain flood with everything you love about him.

23:59pm

the cake is painfully mediocre. you’re both huddled on a bench opposite the chapel, overly sweet icing coating your gums as you wait for the clock to strike.

“so, dear husband, care to explain yourself? what happened to ‘costco sheet cake level good’?” you say, pushing the remains of the sponge around on the paper plate with your fork.

“details of the cake may have been… greatly exaggerated.”

“any particular reason why?” you’re fishing for something and he knows it.

“maybe i just enjoy lying to my dear wife.” you pout and jean can’t help but let his stare linger on your lips, a little cracked from the cold and stained cherry red.

“i think,” you start, tossing the sad excuse for wedding cake into the bin behind you, “you just really wanted to marry me.”

he pinches your nose playfully that has you trying to resist him when he pulls you to his chest. a moment of weakness as the chiming of the clock makes you jump results him him pulling you flush with him, his lips barely touching yours as he whispers, “maybe.” his admission has you smiling and closing the distance between you.

00:00am

the clock continues to ring, 12 consecutive chimes that jean pulls away with as they conclude. his eyes are glassy as he blinks away the snowflakes that litter his lashes and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“merry christmas, mrs kirstein.” <3

a/n: now you might be thinking, a christmas fic? in a july heatwave? yes, shut the fuck up!!!

thinking about jean kirstein and how pathetically romantic he is.

the way he admires your beauty as you rest peacefully next to him, head resting against his shoulder. the way you always have his full attention when you’re speaking to him. and the way he holds you oh-so-tenderly, fingers grazing along your skin, treating your body as if it was sculpted by the gods– and as far as he’s concerned, you were.

word count: 0.5k

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She is collected and calm. She practices her French while she perfects cooking foie gras. She is highly educated and cultured. She can hold her own in a room full of elites. She does so easily and naturally. She has an imported dog from Poland. She only drinks fine red wine. She smiles often and genuinely. She is noticed and admired by everyone. She is kind everyone. To the butlers, the neighbors, the cleaners, the doorman, and to the barista. She does not speak badly of others. She doesn’t tolerate disrespect or a lack of appretiation. She walks away from things and people that do not serve her. She does not beg or ask for anything. The people around her understand her expectations. She is seductive by having elegance and class. She doesn’t mention celebrities by their first name, even if they ate dinner at her house last weekend. She never flaunts. And because of this, people envy her more. Nothing is unattainable to her. If she wants to go somewhere, she simply goes. If she wants to buy something, she does. If she wants to achieve something, she works towards it. She is aware of herself. She thinks before she speaks or acts.

Love as Acceptance

Caitlyn Siehl // Leonard Cohen, "Anthem" // Rumi, "Bitterweet" // trans. Anne Carson, "Euripides" // Sade Andria Zabala, "Coffee and Cigarettes" // tumblr acct @/gayassnatural // Anne Carson, "H of H Playbook" // William Shakespeare, "Sonnet 116" // Clementine von Radics, "Mouthful of Forevers" // Toni Morrison, "Jazz"

Blooming Hearts

Jean Kirstein x gender neutral! reader (they/them pronouns used) mini series, reincarnation au.

summary : you never thought that some freshly bloomed flowers and newly brewed coffee would help you meet the one person you desperately wanted to meet.

warnings : some angst

a/n : working on the next chapter of only you, darling next! sorry this took so long, I've been kinda busy lately. this is also the second last chapter of this fic :) this chapter isn't really as good as compared to the others, i just wanted to get it out as soon as I could. oh, and also, you can find the Series Masterlist linked in my main Masterlist. tumblr's tagging system sucks so I'm trying to not put links to old Tumblr posts to see if that helps. thank you for all the patience and kind words!

enter my taglist!

| Main Masterlist is pinned | Fic playlist | requests for jean kirstein and five hargreeves are open! |

--

Chapter Four - Wilting

You gasped, collecting your breath as your shoulders shook from the amount of giggling you were doing.

You shouldn’t have been here, like this, but who would care, right? You deserved this.

You raised your head, wide smile still etched on your face. Jean’s face was mirroring yours, his left hand propped up behind you.

You had been doing your normal chores, going to attend the horses at the stables, holding a large brush in an even larger bucket.

It was a comparatively hot day, hot enough to make a good amount of sweat collect on your forehead. Armin, Mikasa, Eren, Historia and Jean were attending a meeting with the seniors of the scouts. It was almost surreal, the way Marco predicted the fact that Jean would be a leader some day, and here he was, now sitting as a commanding officer. Sasha was probably with Niccolo, and Connie had just left to visit his mom in the now abandoned village as he always did once a month, which left you to do some much needed cleaning around Historia’s cabin.

Historia hadn’t gotten around much, after reading the last letter Ymir ever sent to her, spending much of her time on the porch of her cabin that was used as an orphanage, going inside to interact with the kids once in a while.

The loss of a close loved one does that to people, you thought, chugging the bucket with difficulty.

Suddenly, you had felt a harsh tug on your sleeve, making you jerk to the right.

Your back pressed against the wood on the side of the stable, a shadow overcoming your figure. Your first instinct was to fight them off but as soon as you opened your eyes, you found the familiar charming smile that had first made you fall.

Eyes shimmering, Jean greeted you with a slight laugh at your appearance, for which you did slap his chest. He proceeded to tell you the most hilarious thing that had taken place during the meeting, which happened to be a higher up… farting.

“walls, it wasn’t even that funny, Jean.” You lied, smiling. “I applaud your story telling skills for keeping me hooked, though, 6/10”

“oh, do I get extra points for being so damn good looking?” he asks slyly, attempting to wink but ending up blinking instead, which sent you into yet another laughing fit.

You swore it was the most you’d laughed since Sasha went apeshit on that food Niccolo made, which was about a month ago.

you collected your breath again, finding Jean's hand which was resting next to your face, propped up on the wood. Your head rolled to the side, resting on his forearm.

His eyes were twinkling, a soft look on his face.

“there was… an attempt to wink. I mean, you tried, right?” you said teasingly, shrugging a little at the end.

“uh huh, and what would your grace, the almighty (y/n) rate this, out of a ten?” he asks.

“hmm, probably a 2/10. Not bad, Kirstein. You’d pick up all the girls in town with that.” You say.

He stands up straight at that, removing his hand from it’s previous position, opting to cup your cheeks gently instead.

He brought his nose closer to yours, till they were touching. You felt his nose move as he said, “i don’t need them to look at me when I have you.”

And with that, he kisses you.

Stable duties long forgotten, you kiss him back, hands wandering to the nape of his neck.

He pulls away, “missed you. the meeting was pretty boring without you. and Sasha and Connie, but don’t tell them I told you that.” His face is still close to yours, you feel his lips moving right over your parted ones.

“well I missed you too. Connie just left to visit his ma,” you say, “but I was gonna clean the stables… if you wanna help? Or we can just go home and take a shower and then have an early dinner… relax a bit.” You say, looking into his eyes which light up on the sound of a shower and dinner with you.

“i'd love that.” He said, pulling you in for another kiss

--

you had a noticeable skip in your step as you entered the flower shop.

Jean’s eyes locked on yours, your eyes shining, smile wide, as you greeted him with that all-consuming warmth.

It was consuming Jean, too, but he refused to acknowledge it.

He refused anything to do with you, which absolutely killed him. It had taken him a while to start warming up to Marco and Sasha when he first met them as well, but he didn’t think how hard it would be with you. he had assumed everything with you would have been the same, easy and comfortable yet adventurous and brand new, despite being such an old and tight tie.

His eyes remained to be steely, as he let out the most monotonous “hey,” he could find in him, which still sounded weak in his ears.

Your spirits weren’t deflated yet, though, as you browsed the shop a little. Jean used these moments to admire you, before you made your way to the counter.

“so… I don’t really have any flowers in mind today, so what would you recommend, flower boy?” you asked, placing his hands on the counter, close to his.

His chest tingled. His heart futtered. He could feel his ears heating up at the mere nickname.

He snatched his hands so they were now crisscrossed over his tingling chest, “I don’t know. You should’ve thought about that before coming here.”

The urge to use your special nickname he curated for you was strong, but Jean didn’t give in.

That was one thing about Jean Kirsten: he was stubborn. And he was confident about his stubborn-ness too, which only inflated his ego, puffing his chest a bit.

But now all his chest seemed to be doing was deflating, giving you the treatment he knew you wouldn’t like, nor deserve.l

He saw your shoulders deflate as well, which, again, nothing short of killed him.

You let out a little laugh to get rid of the tension in the room. You weren’t expecting this, it seemed, and understandably so.

Jean wanted nothing but to give you a small bouquet of dandelions, delicately tied with some baby’s breaths, all with a kiss to your knuckles while handing them to you just to see your flustered reaction.

“well, then, I’ll just take five of the… blue violets.” You said, small smile still on your face. You looked more pristine than usual, and Jean wondered if you were going to go do something after this.

Oh, right. He was supposed to leave with you today, to go hang out with Marco and the others.

The day was planned more for you, more for you to catch up with your friends and make even new memories, plan more days.

Only now, seeing how had it was to face you, did Jean realise how much he was going to dread today.

He silently rung your five blue violets up, tying them before handing them to you. The transaction took about five minutes, but they felt like eternity as he tried not to look at your eyes or smell your perfume too much.

Did you change it? It smelled… better, Jean thought. He liked it.

This was exactly what he was dreading.

--

The walk with Jean had been nothing short of boring. A little disappointing, too.

You assumed now, knowing your… soulmate, essentially, would be liberating. And it was! When he held you the other week, everything seemed fine, you felt so whole and complete.

Yet now, you were walking side to side to an absolute stranger who seemed to want nothing to do with you.

The physical part of it was nice, you thought, walking next to someone never felt this good before. All your old feelings revived at his mere presence and you wondered how all it took was his name for your mind to immediately know who he was. Nevertheless, your stride matched his, your feet making a unanimous sound as they scruffed the pavement.

You decided ten minutes into your little walk that you’d give up trying to make conversation with him, which broke your heart just a little.

The sky looked like it was going to rain, as you cursed yourself for not bringing an umbrella.

Flowers still in your hand, you made your way to sasha’s dorm which she shared with niccolo.

--

You sipped your warm coffee as you stepped into the flower shop.

Three months had passed since you first met your old friends. Since then, as planned, you had created more memories with them, too many to count, and it had never felt this good to be so loved and included in a friend group before.

In fact, they had invited you to a party with even more of the old cadet group. Apparently they had all been acquainted before and decided that it was a good idea to have a small party at someone’s house so it would be like “the old days”.

“but, you know, without the killing and all.” Connie had added helpfully.

You, of course, had readily agreed.

The weather was a little windy, greying clouds covering some parts of the sky. You wondered if it would rain today.

The fragrance surrounded you once again, as you welcomed it to hug your clothes.

You gripped your coffee cup a little as you saw Jean behind the counter, as usual, stoic and cold.

You didn’t know why but something had definitely changed after that day you got to know his name. As if knowing your name and knowing the past changed his perception of you.

Maybe he was a different person now? Or maybe he liked someone else? Or maybe he just wanted something new, something different, something not you.

The thoughts stung more than you wanted them to, but it’s not like you could do anything about them. You had tried to talk to him, asking him about his day, what he was up to, but he never answered the way you hoped he would. He give you his usual shrug and a one word answer that allowed no room for further conversation.

You wondered if this was what he really wanted. If being cold and steely towards you was the way he wanted to act with you, or if he was just a really good actor.

Either way, you were hurt.

Yet, you continued your visits to the flower shop, sometimes only to hear his voice. You knew it was probably a long shot but you continued making small talk with him even if you frequented the shop fewer and less enthusiastic. Sometimes you went knowing it wasn’t Jean’s shift, not in the mood to use your social battery on him.

Now, though, you wanted to buy flowers for Sasha, Marco and Connie. You thought it would be a nice gesture and it wasn’t like you hadnt already done it before.

Jean barely acknowledged the bell ringing, much less your presence as you bit back a small sigh.

You walked over to the baskets of carefully segregated flowers sprayed with water, picking each of your friends’ favourite flowers, along with two daffodils for yourself.

Three yellow roses for Marco, a hyacinth stem for Connie, who said he didn’t really have a favourite flower, so you picked the ones that reminded you of him, which also happened to symbolize playfulness. Three Chrysanthemums for Sasha, and you were all set.

Your plans were to meet Marco, Connie, Sasha at Sasha’s dorm, all dressed up, and then you’d leave whenever Niccolo would come to pick you guys up, being the only one with a car.

Silently, you put the flowers infront of Jean, telling him how you wanted it bundled. He obliged, as was his job, sneaking glances at your direction. You caught one, and offered him a small smile.

He quickly looked away, continuing his work. You didn’t know why you hoped he’d return the smile.

He rung you up, as you paid the money, without wasting much time. You felt the need to get away from the shop you used to love so much. A pang went through your heart.

Grabbing the flowers gently, rushing out of the place with them clutched in your hands.

“wait!” you heard Jean call behind you, making you halt and turn around, hope blooming in your chest.

“are you… are you gonna go to the party tonight? With us?” his eyes refuse to meet yours.

“I doubt it’s a full fledged party,” you let out a light chuckle, “but I’ll be going.”

You hoped he was trying. You hoped he started to atleast care. You hoped he knew you appreciated it.

He looked as if he wanted to say something, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. You bit back a laugh at his expression.

Finally, still not meeting your gaze, he says “that’s… nice.”

That’s it?

Its okay. You could be patient, though he was testing your limits.

“I’ll see you then, Jean.” You said, turning around on your heels and speed-walking through the doors missing the way Jean let out a heavy sigh behind you, the bell of the doors drowning out the noise.

--

Jean’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, waiting with anticipation for your arrival in Sasha’s dorm. His leg was bouncing up and down as he sat on Sasha’s bed, fiddling with the belt of the watch his mother gave him when he graduated highschool, claiming he’d look even more handsome with it. Jean wasn’t sure how a watch was supposed to make him look handsome but he wore it nonetheless.

“I think you should talk to them, jeanbo,” he remembered his ma giving him advice when he told her about poppy, “by the way you speak about them it seems like you really like them. You shouldn’t throw that away because of something that might happen.”

She and Marco were the only ones who knew about his situation, but as always, Jean decided to not listen to him.

“just talk to them, Jean.” Marco whispered near him, rather annoyed, which was unlike him. Sasha and Connie were going through Sasha’s closet, trying to figure out what she should wear. Sasha, being a master at procrastinating, had yet to change her clothes and get ready.

Jean leaned back, “I don’t think that’s gonna fix anything, though. I mean, it wont take back the fact that they’re quiet literally destined to be hurt.”

Marco sighs, closing his eyes. Jean was making whatever strong thread marco had that kept him together almost snap. Jean was good at doing that, he thought.

“you know what? Do whatever you want, just… I think you can fix this, I think both you and (y/n) deserve a happy ending. Other than that, I have no comments.” He says, getting up and joining Sasha and Connie, who thankfully didn’t hear his and Jean’s whispered conversation.

“I think this one-“ Connie pointed, but was cut off by a knock Jean just knew was you. he sat up, running a hand through his hair and glancing at marco.

“Talk. To. Them.” Marco mouths.

“youre here!” Sasha says, almost tackling you with a hug.

Jean sighs. Sasha’s love language was rather aggressive. He hoped you weren’t hurt by her antics.

“hey, (y/n)!” Connie greets as Marco smiles warmly at you.

Jean finally gets a good look at you as Sasha lets go of your shoulders.

His breath hitches. If his heart was going fast before he wondered how he was still alive with his heart going so inexplicably rapid.

You looked beautiful, smiling and happy and oh you were smiling at him, and you looked so bright, even under the shitty lighting in Sasha’s dorm, you looked gorgeous.

He gave you a tight lipped smile, seeing yours falter in response.

Jean was a cruel, cruel, person, he thought.

You made your way over to Sasha’s closet, your face immediately brightening and pointing at the dress you thought she’d look good in, in about two seconds.

Sasha gasped, saying something Jean barely listened to as he was too focused on your face, watching your eyes crinkle, your perfume surrounding him warmly, and he never wished he could hold you close to him more than now.

fuck it, he thought. I'll try.

He played with the belt of his wristwatch again, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, joining the rest of you. he stood behind you, hesitantly placing a hand on your shoulder, hoping you’d see he was reaching out, hoping it wasn’t too late.

You stiffened initially, but your shoulders relaxed after noticing it was just him.

“okay, I’m gonna get ready now,” Sasha declared, moving to the bathroom to change, “(y/n), choose my makeup later, okay?” she said, shutting the door of the bathroom with no further argument.

“oh, right, I got these for you guys!” you say, perking up and showing them the flowers Kean had tied together that morning.

You gave the yellow roses to Marco, the hyacinths to Connie, and left the Chrysanthemums for Sasha.

Jean felt like he’d been stabbed.

Of course he had wondered why you had bought so many flowers, if they had been for your friends. He wondered if the dandelions were for him, but now, seeing as they weren’t, he wanted to cry.

Had he already hurt you that much? had it been too much?

Three months ago, he would have been a little glad about the fact, he would have been a little glad that you had stopped hoping.

But now, knowing how hard it was to continue this charade for any longer, all he felt was a deep hurt. He had never felt this way, the type of visceral sadness that made his want to sit down and hug himself and shut the world out. he wondered if you felt like this everytime he was no less than a dick to you. he wondered how you lived like that. thinking your only soulmate doesn't want anything to do with you, tossing you aside.

the hurt boiled and bubbled in his chest, the guilt washing up on him in waves. the same heart that was fluttering just a moment ago felt like it now sunk into the depths of the Marianna trench.

he removed his palm that was resting in your shoulder, promptly shoving it in the pockets of his pants and rolled his shoulders back. there were no tears to be blinked away, but the lump in his throat prevented him to speak.

the pain of knowing it was probably too late to fix the things he messed up was just now dawning him.

you made your way to Sasha's closet once again, going through one of her drawers full of makeup products, picking the things she'd need after getting changed, while Marco helped. Connie still stood beside Jean, observing him carefully.

"something happened, didn't it?" Connie said, loud enough for only Jean to hear him.

Jean only looked at him. maybe it was because Connie knew Jean for longer than anyone did in this room, maybe it was because Jean wasn't doing such a good job at hiding his hurt as he thought he was, but Connie nodded, patting Jean's back stiffly yet comfortingly : his way of showing affection.

Jean still appreciated it, though he couldn't find it in him to speak.

"you can fix it." Connie said, leaving Jean standing in the middle of the room as he went to join you and Marco.

Jean looked at you, laughing at something Connie had said about mascara, your laugh crinkling the corner of your eyes beautifully.

he hoped he wasn't too late.

--

jean could hear his breathing in his own ears, he could feel someone holding him in an uncomfortable position, yet he couldn't move.

he felt the imminent fear of the titans rushing towards him and whoever was holding him, the person frantically waving their blade in order to keep both Jean and them safe.

he could hear faint sniffles, gasping, struggling from the person holding him. the last thing he remembered was that he saved Mikasa from a Titan and...

what was happening?

why couldn't he open his fucking eyes? why couldn't he move?

the person holding him stopped waving their blade, a louder, surprised gasp coming from them.

Jean finally pried his eyes open at that, the lack of warm air from the titan's nostrils compelled him to check what was happening.

he blinked his eyes blearily, groaning a bit in the process. he felt the sweat drip off his forehead as he looked at the person holding him.

armin.

he followed armin's eyes, where Jean assumed the Titan was standing, but instead found its corpse.

someone had killed it, saving both Jean and Armin in the process. not just someone, but... you.

the sun was gleaming behind your sillohette, lighting up only the sides of your face as you prevented more titans from approaching him. Jean couldn't see your face clearly, his eyes still blurry and lungs still hurting, but he remembered thinking that he'd never forget this.

he'd never forget the way you were fighting for him, the way you used the titans themselves to grapple the hook of your ODM gear to, the way you guided yourself with strength and bravery.

Jean would also never forget the way he was angry.

why would you not care about your own life? why would you risk your life to save his?

he remembered scolding you about it later.

the little argument would then turn into his first kiss with his soulmate.

and Jean remembered thinking he'd never forget it.

--