— B@RISTA.

the question softened him up a little bit, in all honesty. seeing just your face, looking so concerned. from below, he gawked at you, but only for a moment. it was seeing you feeling so down that flipped a switch in him, and before you could worry any further, he aggresively moved to reassure you. with a pointed finger and a gnarl in his brow, he'd shout:

"what do you mean what are we going to do? we're gonna get fuckin' married! having served in the military and all, it's a shocker that you aren't willing to get a little wet, beautiful."

and because you never backed down from a challenge, you marched down that aisle, and beautifully so. when it was time for him to kiss his bride, jean took down your hair, letting the rain droplets course through your locks. after all, the weather was bound to ruin it, anyway.

— CONNIE.

similar to jean's scenario, the rain began its course just as the ceremony was about to begin. and as down as you were about it, you still decided to get ready to be walked down the aisle. no matter the weather, you were planning on being wed

as for connie, though, he wasn't nearly as confident as jean would have been. in fact, he practically fell into a half hour long depression over the fact that it was going to storm on your guys' wedding day. quite literally, he was heartbroken. he was profoundly bummed out, and the only person capable of lightening his spirits was you

that being said, with total disregards for the sake of basic tradition, he wound up at your dressing room. softly, he called your name, moving to make himself comfortable inside. however, before he could even stick his head through the door, you threw a comb at him, screeching at him that he couldn't see you in your dress. with that, he simply leaned against the closed door. and like a true lover, you walked on over, leaning against your side. cinematically, it was rlly pretty, the two of you leaning your sides against the opposite sides of a stupid door

"i wanted today to be perfect, y'know."

"pardon?"

the single word itself was enough to make connie blink, a single brow furrowed. meanwhile, on the other side, you were working up quite the committed bride speech

"we've slaughtered literal stampedes of titans, kicked the shit out of trained vigilantes, sat through keith shadis' lectures side by side, and not to mention the fact that we've looked death itself in the face far more times than humanely necessary for teenagers— we've done all of that. all of that, to build up to this moment. our moment. it's rain, baby. maybe the gods above saw that we're still smiling after having survived the shitfest of a life they'd given us, and they started to cry because they'd lost."

creaking the door open just the slightest bit, you'd let only your eyes show, piercing through the crack as you looked at your husband to be. he was staring back at you, wide-eyed, waiting for you to continue. you couldn't help but grin:

"are we really going to let a couple piss babies like that ruin our perfect day?"

after simply gawking at you, connie's surprised expression slowly shifted into motivation, his frown forming into that of a smile. with his newfound hope, he would quickly shake his head— "hell no!" he'd say. then, after telling you just how lost he'd be without you, he ran off. he didn't want to be late to the alter, after all.

— REINER.

probably the least worried out of everyone on this list, surprisingly. unlike jean & connie, the rainstorm had hit after the wedding ceremony, and during the reception party. people were dancing, laughing, drinking, and the two of you were having the time of your lives. that being said, when bertholdt came rushing over to warn the two of you of the rain cloud coming through, the disappointed look on your face was inevitable

"what?" reiner would ask, as if he didn't believe him. of course, the two of you made sure to choose a sunny day whilst planning— this wasn't supposed to happen. so, when your newfound mother-in-law and your bridesmaids rushed to cover the cake and people were slowly shrinking beneath the weeping sky, you frowned, as if you'd just been heartbroken

reiner had his arms wrapped around you just as your face had dropped, as well; the two of you were dancing along with the hired band just as you'd received the news. so, he literally watched as your expression contorted, and it literally ripped his soul out of his chest

like the gentleman that he is [most of the time], he would shrug off his suit jacket, holding it above your head as it began to pour. as he did, he simply watched you sadly stare at the ground, puddles of water beginning to seep into the grass surrounding you. not being able to physically stand seeing you so sad on such an important day, reiner only did what his heart told him to

"take off your heels."

confused, you'd only look at him. with a nod of his head, he'd go, "it's gonna be hard to dance if you've got your heels sinking through every puddle. take off your heels, pull your hair down," slowly, he would remove his jacket from above you, letting the water fall onto you as he held your chin in his fingers, "and let loose with me."

with that, you'd only smile. as unexpected as the weather was, you could see just how much he was ready to waste the day away dancing with you beneath the sobbing sky— and the thought alone made your heart skip a beat

cue the dramatic costume change.

within ten minutes, you ran back to the party in your reception outfit, not wanting to dirty your wedding dress. you'd yanked down your hair, and rid yourself of your heels, stepping into the soaking wet grass entirely barefoot. reiner had been waiting for you, hair completely disheveled. once you arrived, beaming, the party started once more

“you’re going to do what?” you asked, looming above the steaming carcass of both your friend and ally, armin arlert. well, what you thought was a carcass. somehow, he was alive. alive, and about to ruin your entire life as you know it. him, and the others; your friends. utterly flabbergasted, your knees would tremble, and your pulse would skyrocket. 

“you couldn’t have expected us to allow him to live, y/n,” hange would say, her single eye shooting toward the rooftop of which she stood on. her tone was cold, and it practically pierced you, “not after all that he’s done. we haven’t any other choice.”

“any other choice?” you spat, earning your commander’s glare. everyone was staring at you, in both uncertainty and pity. they were fully aware of your relations to the enemy, and yet they knew what was right. they knew what they had to do. and, deep down, so did you. you knew, but you denied the reality of the situation with every fiber of your being. because although you were aware of what was unjust and what wasn’t, love trumped whatever moral highground you had left. and dear god, did you love him. you loved him. you loved him, and they wanted to take him away.

“you have plenty of other choices, godammit!” you shouted, eyes widened in fear. your shoulders trembled, and the grip you had on your blades was deadly. as a precaution, you could see mikasa in the corner, her own swords drawn. by whatever means necessary, she was ready to cut you down. even so, you would be heard. “you’re going to kill him? he’s our friend, he’s our comrade, he’s our bertholdt! dammit, he’s-”

your words would only fall from your lips in a hoarse, cracked sob: “he’s my bertholdt!” 

this earned you nothing but silence in return, frightening you further. looking up, you faced the grim sacrifice that either you or the others would have to pay- and unfortunately for you, majority rules. 

“it doesn’t matter.”

the words struck you, sending you into a frenzy. eren stood before you with confidence, his gaze plunging into your chest with the utmost ferocity. 

“whether you’re able to live with the loss or not, we’re feeding bertholdt to armin.” 

now, here you were. with your entire squadron turned against you, you weren’t given any other choice. if anybody was going to save bertholdt, it was going to have to be you. and even if it meant turning against everything you once believed in, you would do it. you had to. 

mercilessly, you ran. with every ounce of energy left inside your being, you ran. unconscious, your love lay on a faraway rooftop, swaiting his very own demise without even being remotely aware of it. from a distance, you could see him. he was vacant of all four limbs, the steam from his regeneration process rising from off of his wounds and into the air. as if he were peacefully asleep, his eyes kept shut. and while his were closed, yours were brimming with tears. oh, bertl. what have you done? 

desperation was the only thing keeping you moving, and it did so with an utter lack of grace. you sprinted sloppily, and you rid yourself of any sort of technique. you couldn’t think, you could only do. unfortunately for you, doing wasn’t enough. just as you neared the still body of your love, you were pulled back by the ends of your hair, slamming you into the ground. as you smashed downward, the terrifingly large footstops of another being arose from a distance. 

“are you in love with me, bertl?” 

the question was abrupt, and it wasted no time in taking your boyfriend utterly aback. “what?” he asked, blinking down at you. as quickly as the single word had left his lips, a drop of sweat threatened to trickle down the side of his face. “what do you mean?”

“what do i mean?” you simply repeated, a teasing smile creeping onto your lips. the two of you were sitting beside one another on the edge of your bed, comfortably dressed for bed. had either one of you thought to look out the window, you would be sure that it was passed the middle of the night. still, it was the lighthearted conversation that urged the both of you to stay awake, basking in the presence of the other. the time you spent together was crucial, and you made sure to savor every single moment. 

“you speak to me as if you’re in love with me,” you said, moving to rest your head against the boy’s shoulder, “and you touch me as if it’ll always be your last. we may be an item, bertholdt. but the label can’t be all that we have.” 

despite how sudden your words may have been, the brunette knew enough to take them into consideration. through the silence that erupted in suite of your mild tangent, he would only contemplate. then, as if he’d finally gathered the courage to let loose, he would sigh. wrapping an arm around you, you would be brought close, where he then buried his nose within the crook of your neck. had you known any better, you would have assumed that he did it to hide his face from your sight. 

“yes,” he would say, much to your surprise. “yes, i am in love with you. i always have been, i think.” 

your jaw agape, you weren’t exactly sure how to react at first. you hadn’t expected his answer to be so simple, to be so confident. feeling his long, strong arms wrap around you as you were pulled into his chest was heavenly, and with his words poured into the mixture, you wanted to melt. however, because you were clueless, all you could think to do was laugh the matter off, earning you quite the stare. 

“now, now, there’s no need to exaggerate. really, you could have just-”

but before you could even finish, a calloused hand would place itself onto the side of your face, moving your gaze so that it would face bertholdt’s gaze. the two of your faces were close, noses nearly touching. with a tender, soulful look, his sage eyes would pour into yours, brows ever so slightly furrowed. 

“i love you, y/n. if anything, that’s an understatement. please, never doubt me in that regard.”

as you were thrown into the rooftop beneath you by the likes of mikasa, it was the past words of your lover that pushed you to fight. even against an ackerman, you would fight. arching your blade behind you, you angled it with the luckiest sort of precision, pressing the very tip of your sword to the clump of hair your comrade had balled up into her hand. with a single slice, you cut it off completely, freeing yourself of her grip as you slipped from in between her legs. in your hindsight, you saw a blonde headed titan— armin. the plan had already been set in motion, and your time was cut short. 

with a shout, you ran. however, before you could get even get more than a single step in, you were pulled back, a pair of arms locking either side of your shoulders into place from behind you. eren’s face loomed beside your own, his eyes closed as he aided mikasa in holding you down. with the two of them combined, you couldn’t move. as you struggled, you were pressed into the crumbled surface of the roof, rendering you defeated. now, all you could do was watch.

“LET ME GO!” you would scream, all to no avail. tears coated the sweat that trickled down both sides of you face, leaving your voice hoarse as you shouted, pleaded, and cried all at once. your vision was blurred, and you couldn’t even clearly see as the titan that was once your dying comrade reached down to grasp the awakening body of your love, plotting to take him away from you for good. it was all happening so quickly, you readied yourself to wake up from the nightmare that was reality. wake up, wake up, wake up. 

nothing could wake you up, except for a single thing. to your absolute horror, just as he was dropped into the clutches of death itself, the last thing bertholdt could bring himself to scream was your name. 

of course, the thought conflicted you. the enemy, living with you? sure, they were barely teenagers, but that didn't make them any less capable of murdering you in your slumber.

knowing levi, though, that would never be the case. the man was already the world’s most calculating insomniac, lord knows he’d never let either of those kids out of his sight. especially not around you. 

nevertheless, your guys’ experience living with the remaining warriors of marley would be far more different than either of you would ever think to realize. 

ACTUAL HEADCANONS BELOW: ⇩︎

to your surpise, falco’s quite literally the sweetest pre-teen to ever roam the earth. of course, you’d only assumed it was all an act. that was,, until you genuinely caught him attempting to befriend levi's horse one morning. he was outside holding a fistful of grass, holding it out to the thing as if it were some sort of a beast. eventually, you joined him, and you showed him just how to handle it. and while the boy seemed skeptical at first, you saw that glimmer in his eyes the moment the horse allowed him to pet its mane. from the window, levi only watched.

speaking of levi's horse, that thing absolutely despises gabi. you're not quite sure why, but it does. you've literally had to run out and claw her hair out from between its teeth before— she's scReaminG, you'Re screaming, even the horse is screaming.

"why does this keep happening to me?!"

"this has happened befoRe?"

whenever either of the two children curse, levi's quick to correct them. despite having quite the foul mouth himself, he doesn't hesitate whenever he has to toss out a blunt "language."

^ at first, they were bitter. with time, though, they stopped swearing.

a key moment in time that helped develop you and falco's relationship was one afternoon where he was helping you out with yard work. somehow, his little crush on gabi came up, and the two of you got to talking about it. after giving him some genuine, appropriate advice for a kid with a crush, he really did start looking at you differently.

as for levi and gabi, those two bonded over intense, hilarious training. he found her punching the air in his backyard, and decided to drop in with a few sarcastic pointers. somehow, it ended in him kicking the poor girl around like a rag doll— not violently, he never hurt her. instead, he fended off each and every attack she fired at him, leaving her absolutely exhausted. she was tired out, and he was perfectly fine. imagine gabi, laying on the ground, tired as shiT, and levi, gently nudging the toe of his boot into her side:

"you can fight, but you're messy. if you ever stand a chance at surviving this war you started, i suggest you clean up your act."

cue gabi, glaring.

"if you care so much, then help me become better."

and so he did 🥺🥺 the two bond over levi practically coaching her, and as the days merge into weeks, she grows to actually respect levi, and maybe even look up to him.

basically, while you and falco live your cottagecore lives and bond over horses and apple picking, levi and gabi beat the everliving shit out of eachother in the backyard. it's a great balance.

for the first couple of nights, eating at the dinner table with those two was disgustingly awkward. it was utter silence, nothing more. however, one night, falco dropped his fork, and when he bent down to get it, he looked underneath the table for a milliseconD— there levi was, leaned down, stArinG at him. it was both hilarious and terrifying altogether, and falco ended up screeching and knocking his head into the table, hard.

"I WAS GETTING A F O R K-"

"and? gRemlin."

it surprised all of you, hearing gabi laugh. a genuine, real laugh. eventually, that turned into a conversation. and after that, you had conversations during every dinner. the development process was cruel, but worth it.

the kids help you prepare breakfast in the morning while levi downs his fourth cup of tea at the table, and it's always cute. because of you, falco knows how to make scrambled eggs! and also because of you, gabi knows how to prank somebody using an uncooked noodle. literally, she just places a piece of it between her teeth, pretend to crack her nose, and crunch. she made falco scReAm, and levi just looked at you like 🤨 bitch, tf are u teaching her

now, this was around three months into supervising them. one night, they were sitting alongside you on the sofa, and you were reading them a story. while falco was into it, gabi thought it was silly— still, though, she listened. eventually, they passed the hell out on either side of you. you drifted off, as well. when you woke up, you'd woken up to levi, his head rested onto your lap while his knees prop him up from the floor. by the looks of it, he wanted to be included.

whenever either of them step out of line, they earn a swift flick to the forehead from levi. it's a daily thing. gabi says something stupid, flick. falco slacks off during chores, flick. one time, gabi tried flicking him back, and it just started a flick war. you were done with all three of them.

both gabi and falco love telling you about marley's technology. you'd never heard of such things, and to know that they exist? shit, the look on your face is priceless. they absolutely adore getting a reaction out of you, and they often butt heads over who gets to tell you what. when they do, cue the overly aggressive forehead flicks from levi.

while levi told you not to, you couldn't help yourself. you showed them just how cool it is to use ODM gear. of course, they lost their shit, because holy hell that looks fun. your boyfriend, of course, caught you swinging from tree to tree while the two children gawked at you, and he gave you a stern talking to. before he did, though, that motherfucker joined you in the trees. again, the kids lost it.

"loOKATTHEMFALCOLOOKLOOK-"

"i'MloOokinG-"

before and during your guys’ relationship, marco’s love language is an endless amount of consolation. of course, this goes for everyone, but especially you. seeing you hopless is something that he doesn’t ever want to have to say, so with that being said, he does everything in his power to keep your spirits lifted. and if you’re ever down, he’ll know. you can’t hide your feelings from this man, he’s far too intuitive for his own good. and even if you’re fine, he’ll still go above and beyond with his words of affirmation. it’s who he is. 

during your trainee days, you spent a lot of time with him, jean, sasha, and connie. no matter the circumstances, that was your crowd. really, it was just a huddle of idiot teenagers half-assedly working to become soldiers. even so, they were the ones that got you through it. 

^ honestly, if it weren’t for marco’s constant encouragement, you likely would have quit the training to go work on the farmlands. whenever you tell him that, though, he sheepishly shuts you down, contradicting his own denial through the very thing that made you a shoulder.

“you’re giving me too much credit, y’know. i may have chipped in, but it was you that got you to where you are now. it always was, and it always will be.” 

yeah, this freckled bastard is your go-to therapist. half of the time, you don’t even go to him for help; he comes to you. it’s like he has this sense, or something- no matter how far apart the two of you are, he can feel whenever it is you’re unhappy. perhaps his intuition is just that good, or the two of you are simply soulmates, linked together through delicate intertwinement. quietly, marco believes the latter. back to the main topic of discussion, though. one of his main objectives is to solve whatever problems you may have, even if they have absolutely nothing to do with him. no matter the circumstances, it’s his duty to keep that sweet, soothing smile on your face. without it, his world is dull. 

love letters. yeah, that’s right. for his safety within the boy’s barracks, he’s asked that you keep them a secret,, but marco writes you one to two love letters a month. it isn’t a dramatic amount, and they aren’t all that lengthy, but they never fail to get you to swoon. he’s got a way with words, and when it comes to the likes of you, they’re as passionate as ever. really, he could go on and on about you, page after page, and never find himself getting bored. with every fiber of his being, he’s absolutely smitten over you.

of course, though, the letters don’t start making an appearance until after the two of you establish your relationship. which, as always, i’ll leave that up to you! however, it was probably some time during the end of your time as cadet trainees. after three whole years of helplessly pining for you, i can see him gathering enough courage to actually confess to you. with jean’s encouragement, of course (even though it was more like pRessurinG plspls). 

it can get a little overbearing at times, but marco likes to try and help you with everything and anything. you can’t quite reach that top shelf? don’t worry, he’s got you. struggling with your gear? alright, what’s the problem, he’ll fix it. you’re taking an extra moment to count horses, and he’s already rushing to lend a helping hand. at some point, you’ll have to communicate that although it’s sweet that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, he’ll have to give you the chance to actually learn a thing or do. once you do, he’ll take literally everything into consideration, and try his hardest to stop himself whenever there’s a possible learning exercise in your way. 

cheek kisses! an endless amount, at that. out of everywhere on your body, marco favors your cheeks, if he could, he’d pepper them in kisses all day long. unfortunately, though, he can’t, so he’ll stick to sneaking in little pecks in between every other hour of the day. the two of you live for those moments where he cups either side of your face, plants a sweet kiss onto your cheek, and rushed back to finish whatever it was he was meant to be doing. as expected, they always manage to leave you craving more. 

ah, jean. the third wheel you never fucking asked for. he’s such a pest, and marco refuses to get rid of him, literally ever. with that being said, he’s practically an honorary member of your guys’ relationship. the amount of times you and marco have been cozied up together on the sofa only to be very rudely interrupted by jean sLipping in between the two of you is ridiculous. you and your boyfriend have cancelled dates for this man, simply because he doesn’t want to be alone. typically, it’s jean giving marco the puppy dog eyes, and then in suite, marco giving you the puppy dog eyes, which you simply cannot resist. 

honestly, it’s nearly impossible to get this man jealous. you’ve tried, it should not be as difficult as it is. of course, i said nearly impossible. really, marco’s funny when he gets jelly. he isn’t overly edgy, or agGressive with you- he’s more,, chaotically conflicted. one night, you were feeling a bit more committed to the cause, so you mindlessly sat on reiner’s lap during dinner in the mess hall. marco, who was busy rough-housing with jean, choked. 

"iSTHATCOMFORTABLEORSOMETHING-"

reiner: 🧍‍♂️

during the quiet of the night, you enjoy tenderly kissing each and every one of his freckles you can see. starting with the ones dusted along his face, to his shoulders, to his arms, and so on. usually, marco's far too tired to fully react, but he's always softly smiling, silently admiring you while a hand tangles itself within the locks of your hair.

it's been confirmed that marco's a big brother, so that's definitely a thing. even if you've only been together for a short amount of time at this point, marco would want you to meet his family. after all, he's quite literally in love with you. why not start the formalities earlier than necessary? even if you don't make too good of an impression, he's sure that one day, his family will be one that you're apart of. he wouldn't have it any other way.

he's flustered easily. the smallest thing could happen, and he's red in the face, stumbling over his words, all of it. of course, you only find it endearing. rake your fingers through his hair while he's a blushing mess, you'll never get enough of it. beneath your touch, he crumbles.

one night, after a rougher session of training, you took hold of marco's busted and blistered knuckles, which had been dirtied on the field. while he thought nothing of it, you moved them to your lips, planting a sweet kiss along the bridge as a form of comfort. he absolutely melted, and it was the birth of a beautiful pattern. whenever his fists are battered, your kiss mends them right back together.

during chores, you and him tend to hum together in sync. it's a surprisingly pleasing harmony, and it's become a shared habit to make up silly melodies to hum to whenever you run out. and whenever you're in need of comfort, expect to hear him quietly humming one of the songs the two of you made up while softly rubbing your back. vice versa, as well.

expect to get teased by this boy about everything and anything. you're short? ha, sucks to suck. you're tall? wow, how's the weather up there? he may view you as an upstanding figure, but teasing is his go-to flirting technique. this is all he knows, lethimloveyou.

let's be honest here,, you were probably the one to kill that pizza cutter season three haircut. it was a funny conversation between the two of you.

"so,, are you gonna look like that forever?"

"what?"

"here, let's see what the combs are up to-"

you combed that bitch OUT, and the process of training it was an absolute shitfest. literally, you had to hype him up profusely so that he wouldn't tap out.

"W h O' S TH E SEXIE S T GING E R ALivE?!"

"I AM, GO DD A M M I T-"

yeah, jean despised you two for weeks.

working out side by side! yes, floch enjoys training with you. whenever the two of you need to maintain your physique, you tend to do so together, and together only. it's strictly the two of you for only one reason: neither of you can get embarrassed. the amount of times you've both just collapsed thirty minutes into a training session is ridiculous, and it's hEavenLy that there's nobody there to judge you. when one of you quits, the other follows. it's a great dynamic, don't take it for granted.

when the time comes where floch and the jaegerists band together, he bears no shame in asking you to join him. and while he'd make sure to keep a stoic, stable expression, he'd be desperate for you to accept. if you aren't by his side, nothing feels right. he absolutely despises this power you hold over him, and how it's bound to jeopardize his mission entirely.

still, he's far too weak to let you go. while your hold on him is enough to make him want to loathe you, he can't. why? because he loves you. and to him, love is enough.

when it comes to affection, you'll have to be the one to first initiate it. while he melts at your touch, floch is a bit too closed off for his own good, and that's a bit of a struggle. however, once you set things into motion, he won't be able to ever get enough of you. the first time you lean in to kiss him? he's addicted to the taste of your lips. once you nuzzle into his neck for the first time during an embrace, he savors the feeling for days. that first time you sleep in the same bed, he can no longer succumb to sleep without the feeling of you beside him beneath the sheets.

^ basically, he's far too confident in his ability to resist you. you greatly humble this man.

at first, he was confused on whether or not he wanted to be you, or be with you. does he overwork himself to reach your level, or does he take his actual feelings into consideration and make a move on you? many questions, not enough answers. he was,, very conflicted.

never will he ever admit it, but whenever floch is sick or injured, he absolutely loves when you baby him. please don't EVER do it front of people, but behind closed doors, go nuts. please, spoil him, it makes him feel better.

due to just how highly he thinks of you, he has a bad tendency to overestimate you. mans thinks that you're capable of doing literally anything, and it shows. it's cute, but overbearing. he's accepted overly aggressive challenges for you, only to be absolutely shocked when you get your ass handed to you.

like, what? baby, what do you mean you can't bench press jean and armin's weight combined while chugging a two-liter of sweet tea? u got this, babe.

if floch ever witnesses you all dressed up, he'll be floored. one time, he walked in on you trying on a strapless burguny dress, and he face planted into the doorframe. you thought he broke his nose, and he's swoOning over you.

a lot of bickering. it's typically lighthearted, but it's a lot. it's far too much back and forth than remotely necessary, and everyone absolutely hates the two of you for arguing 70% of the time.

apologies go somewhat like this:

"sorry."

"you better be."

"biTCH-"

currently, you were in the midst of a mission. an intense one, at that. while each and every one of your assignments served with severe purpose, this one in particular wasn't meant to be taken lightly. after all, this had to be your very first time off of the island. not only were you standing on unfamiliar soil, but you were also standing within the core of an established battle between two entirely seperate worlds— that fact alone was enough dangerous as it was exhilarating.

however, the said battle was soon coming to a close, and it was nearing the end of your abrupt visit at the marleyan headquarters. the assignment was meant to be brief, if not a little tightly knit. you were to fight alongside the opposing combatants, retrieve your distant comrade, eren jaeger, and retreat immediately. and while you were still a bit skeptical of the literal aircraft you'd be traveling on, it was surely something you could get used to.

standing alongside your given sector of the battlefield, you were preparing for takeoff. due to having excelled in hand to hand combat during your time as a trainee, you were put closer to the ground than the rest of your associates, much to your worried boyfriend's dismay. as always, he fretted over you. if you so pleased, you could drop him on his ass whenever you'd like. even so, it always felt as if your capabilities were underestimated.

nevertheless, this wasn't the time nor the place for you to sulk in your own bitterness. soon, you'd be home. in the mere matter of hours, you'd be back within the comfortable abode of your home, cozied up in the arms of your beloved. in the moment, that's all you could bring yourself to even think about. you were tired, you were. if anything, the fighting only drained you. you were drained, and the only one able to comfort you was halfway across the battlefield, fighting the same fight as you. once you were to rejoice on the aircraft, you would be sure to pester him for the affection you craved ever so intensely.

with that being said, a call from afar was quick to pull you out of your own head and back to reality. from across the calloused ground that you stood upon, a familiar face waved in your direction.

"y/n!" they would call, "we're boarding— it's time to go home."

at that, you wasted no time in gathering yourself. with a nod, you readied your gear, intertwining your fingertips in between the metallic leashes that resided on your hips. with a single jolt, you propell yourself forwards, releasing your gear's wires onto the nearest rooftop. the moment your feet left the ground, you headed toward the jet. alas, your work here was done.

just as your comrade had said, it was time to go home.

while the carnage beneath you served as a grim reminder of just how destructive your livelihood was, it was the thought of returning to your sweet home within the walls that urged you to look away. a fire had been lit upon your very own accord, and you despised this war. still, it was your war to fight, and with good reason. at least, that's what you told yourself.

as your team's blimp came into view, your voyage into the sky became rushed. clearly, you were aching to leave. little did you know that below the latches of your ODM gear, a tiny pair of copper hues were watching you; and with the utmost fury.

with that final clasp hooking to the aircraft's entrance, you swiftly flew into the air, inured hands grasping at the rescue ropes that fluttered against the metal exterior. the air serving a harsh breeze against your skin, you climbed to the door. however, before you could pull yourself in, a hand reached out to your aid.

"come," the voice would say, earning quite the look from you. to your immediate relief, it was the exact person you'd been meaning to see. looking down at you from within the jet was connie, his arm extended out toward you. and while you couldn't exactly see it due to the circumstances, there was a faint glimmer of consolation poured within his golden hues. thank god, you were alright.

taking hold of his hand, you allowed him to pull you up, bringing you into the craft with such a force, you'd have assumed he was angry with you. however, you knew that that wasn't the case— he was relieved, in the same way that you were. and immediately, he began checking you of any possible harm.

"how are you?" he'd ask, fingers moving to pinch at your cheeks. you only winced at the feeling, the literal life being squeezed out of your face as your boyfriend hurriedly scanned you. this was an occurrence that happened at the end of each and every expedition, much to your displeasure. "are you hurt? anything happen while we were seperated? i didn't realize it'd get so hectic, or else i would have-"

in the midst of his banter, you would only place your hands on his forearms, lowering his touch from either side of your face. gently, you would give them a squeeze, providing him with that reassurance that he desperately needed. softly, you would smile, "i'm okay. by the looks of it, most of us are. that's good."

with a sigh, connie would nod. after all, you were right. only few soldiers were injured, and from what the two of you could tell, most of them were coming home. considering the rare occurrence, you could only smile.

from the corner of your eye, you could see more and more comrades boarding the aircraft. and with time, a particularly familiar face would pull himself on board. having made himself out to be quite the leader, it brought warmth to your core to see jean return safely. the same went for your other friends, of course— sasha, mikasa, armin, and so on. at this point in time, you couldn't even classify them as friends. they were family.

seeing as though your lover was quietly waiting to reconcile with the others, you would lay a brief pat to his shoulder. "i'm gonna put up my gear," you'd say, bringing yourself up to your feet. "while i do that, you ought to thank those two for making it through."

with a nod, he would comply. as always, you were the one to nudge him in the right direction. it was your straightforwardness that balanced out connie's constant uncertainty, adding yet another reason as to why the two of you were simply perfect. without any further discussion, he would make his way over to the entrance of the jet, rejoicing with jean and sasha. as he did, you made your way to the compartment sector of the craft, stowing away your gear. after all, there wasn't any further need for it.

as you situated yourself for the trip back to paradis, you would exchange small talk with your fellow soldiers, both congratulating and thanking those who made it back alive. because truly, you were thankful. it wasn't often that you gain such a victory. though, as time went on and you'd circled your way through the plane, you found yourself headed right back to where your heart lingered.

sitting along the back of the carrier, you saw your love hooked in the middle of his fabulous trio of friends, pulling an immediate smile out of you. he was yet to see you, but you could see him. with both of his arms latched onto the other two, you could hear his quiet confession from where you stood.

"it's not very fair to the others, but you guys are special ... to me."

not wanting to spoil the three's moment, you would only watch. it was the tender silence that stitched together a memorable matter of seconds, despite the circumstances. from a fair couple of feet away, you smiled. unfortunately for you, he was able to catch it.

"and you," connie would add, quickly reaching over to grasp your hand, "you're no different."

melting into his touch, all you could do was interlock your fingers in his own, lips tipping in yet another smile. taking advantage of the opportunity, the boy would pull you into his shared embrace, tugging you in between him and the other two. the iron outline of your uniform managed to graze jean's side, causing quite the exclamation: "ouch, jackasses. don't go for the hug when you're covered head-to-toe in metal."

of course, you would only ignore the brunette's antics, further sinking into the heavenly embrace of your lover. with your cheek pressed against his chest and his fingers tracing along the locks of your hair, you immediately felt at ease. this was home.

"now, now," sasha would coo, adjusting her ponytail, "now isn't the time to overflow the aircraft in your PDA, lovebirds. when do we get to eat?"

pulling your head from connie's chest, you would let out a chuckle, "not until we land, sasha. you do realize we're in the air, right?"

"ah," the girl would sigh, sheepishly moving to scratch the back of her neck. adjusting yourselves, the bunch of you moved to your feet, "i suppose i haven't quite adjusted just yet. just three years ago, we relied on our horses for everything."

"yeah," jean would add, "somehow, it feels like that was just yesterday."

now that you were all situated, the four of you shifted further towards the rest of your team, who were all dancing and shouting in celebration. you hadn't even realized how elated everyone was, having been so focused on the others. out of everyone boarded the ship, it was those who were apart of the 104th that had witnessed the most. with that in mind, acts of celebration were more mild than anything else. while you were glad, you were glad quietly.

still, something felt off. somebody was missing.

just as you were about to make a comment regarding the missing member of the squadron, a quick remark from sasha caught your attention.

"did you hear a sound just now?"

while the other two dismissed the thought, it was you that took it into a much more thorough consideration. compared to anyone else, sasha's sense of hearing was impeccable. while the others may have failed to realize it, she heard something. and with her senses mixed with your paranoia, you were quick to take the remark into account. out of instinct, you watched the door. the door was open, and one of your comrades from below remained missing. the door was open, and sasha heard something. the door was open, and it was vacant of any sort of movement.

the door was open, and someone slipped through.

a miniature figure with a barreled weapon pounced through the doorway and onto the aircraft, and at the sight of a single finger latched onto the trigger, your heart itself dropped. before anyone else had the chance to react, you did. seeing as though the muzzle was aiming toward the center of the flood, you were quick to lunge sideways, pushing whoever it was that stood before the armed figure out of the way. as you flushed whatever will you had to live into the force of your push, sasha simply looked at you in horror— the horror of having to survive, simply due to your own accord.

it was quick. it was immediate, the single bullet, plunging directly into your chest. it was quick to enter you, and it was just as quick to warp you of your senses completely. while you saw that you were falling, you couldn't feel the impact of the wooden floor beating into your back. you couldn't feel it. you felt nothing.

and while you felt nothing, connie felt everything. his entire universe, crumbling apart before him.

in a blend of absolute horror, you could see from your hindsight as he rushed to your side, palms immediately moving to cup your face. moving your blurred gaze towards him, he would shout at you. he would shout, but it was all unintelligible.

"no, no, no," he would mutter, fiercely shaking his head. you were in an absolute daze, and he couldn't sense what you were feeling. hell arose in the back, and your attackers were being mercilessly beaten into defeat. your friends, however, didn't leave your side.

tears brimming in her eyes, sasha would rush to get some sort of a bandage for your wound, which was bleeding profusely. before anyone could process anything, you were laying in a pool of blood, the crimson flow staining your uniform.

"goddammit— HURRY!" your lover would scream, eyes wide. your head lay in his lap, and his fingers tenderly graze the sides of your cheeks in a loving, desperate manner. soon enough, he would feel the raw set of tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes, too. this wasn't happening, this couldn't happen. not to you. dear god, not to you.

"look at me, y/n." he would say, to which you tried your absolute hardest to oblige. you tried, but as your life itself began to drain, you only struggled.

"you can't leave, baby. you can't go, not yet. not after everything we've been through, everything we've fought for! it's always been us, it's always been you. look at me!"

however, you couldn't look. no, you couldn't do anything. instead, you could use whatever strength you held, and mutter the very last of your words: "us."

it's always been us.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

because there isn't a whole lot to change (other than bertholt's feelings for annie; he's older, so in this version, he's over it entirely), everything will be the same as it was in the first part. the four of you, all living in extremely gloomy territory. you're only close with eachother, and it's the sour scent of cigarette smoke and green tea keeping the lot of you sane. that, and the rain. the sweet, senseless rain.

as before, bertholdt's in his twenties, and currently working as a philosophy professor's assistant. his workplace is at a local community college, where you and the other two occasionally visit.

the same goes for the others, as well— while annie's a policy analyst, reiner's taken up certified training. again, not much is different from the first version, if anything at all. what you do for a living is entirely up to you. as for lodging, you're still sharing an apartment with annie, and the boys still visit far too often than remotely necessary. for such a big city, the four of you don't really get out much. really, if you ever do, it's with eachother. you're a very, very tight-knit posse.

back during your college campus days, you're liking toward bertholdt was merely platonic. after all, not only were the bunch of you focused on your academia, but he was always the quieter sort. back then, you were more close to reiner, and even annie, who's worse. still, that didn't mean the two of you didn't interact quite a bit. whenever you were struggling with your studies, he was always offering to help. if we're being entirely honest, there were quite a few exams that you'd have likely failed if it weren't for his assistance.

now, the two of you have grown far more comfortable with one another. of course, college was years ago. as time went on, you'd managed to get closer to him, and vice versa. all four of you are close, despite you having turned their trio into a quartet only a mere matter of years ago. somehow, it felt as they were waiting for you to join them.

if you read the part before this one, you read the instance of which you were hassled on the subway, ultimately leading to an actual buddy system in your favor. well, your friends claim that it's in your favor, anyway. really, it feels like babysitting. they don't like whenever you board the underground train by yourself, and you've been caught trying once or twice. the first time, it was by reiner, who nearly bit your head off. the second time, it was by bert, who was mildly displeased.

instead of scolding you, though, he only boarded the same train as you, offering to see you home. unlike reiner, bertholdt isn't aggressive, especially towards you. if anything, he's protective. he doesn't like it whenever the lingering eyes of a stranger land on you, and he sure as hell isn't fond of the thought of another man taking you home. if you're the more flamboyant sort, and you're unafraid of a fling or two, he'll be quietly bitter. of course, he'll never tell you what to do with your life. he'll tell you to be careful with who you trust, and to stay safe. he's only one call away.

back to your feelings, though. currently, your quiet crush on bertholdt is rising with every given day. it's a struggle, bearing feelings for a man so closed off. nevertheless, it's uncontrollable. fortunately, your pining towards him is more subtle than it is obvious, so he's yet to actually realize. that, and he's fucking oblivious. annie and reiner, however? they're as observing as they come. they know about it, and while they don't tease you, they do root for you. reiner more than annie, because annie's horrible at that sort of thing. still, 10/10 friends.

as of right now, you have three pieces of bertholdt's clothing in your closet. a sweater, a scarf, and a t-shirt. he hasn't asked for any of them back, so they're practically yours. they were all loaned to you on seperate occasions. and although he'll never tell you, there's an actual reason for why he hasn't asked for them back— one time, while you were wearing his sweatshirt, he caught a brief glimpse of you from afar: you were bringing the collar to your nose, inhaling the bittersweet scent of his cologne, his scent. you looked so pleased, and it fucking melted him. he can't bring himself to take anything back that he gives to you.

cuddling. all of you cuddle, though it's a bit subtle. whenever the four of you gather at you and annie's apartment after a rough week, you all have this moment where for hours, you simply sit in silence, watching the rain pour atop the cityscape from the other side of the balcony. the television is lowly drumming in the background, and glasses of tea mixed with pure whiskey sit ontop of the coffee table behind you. you do this as a group, and it's weirdly cinematic. when annie's head isn't rested against your shoulder, you like to press the bottom of your chin onto the top of bertholdt's head. from behind him, your arms lazily wrap around his shoulders, and he sinks into you. this is such a weekly occurrence, neither of you even think much of it. after all, reiner and annie are falling asleep ontop of one another beside you. when they do, you and bertholdt often have a quiet conversation. it's sweet, and exactly what the two of you need.

one time, he took you to an ice sculpture festival. it was the midst of winter, and there was one showcasing in the city. of course, the other two were invited. however, they both claimed to be "busy," when really, they went out to see a movie so the two of you could actually do something together. that being said, you went as a pair.

it was actually fun, to your surprise. not because of the sculptures themselves, but because of how much bertholdt actually liked them. for being so closed off, he showed quite a bit of interest in them. y'all know he's artsy. you couldn't help yourself— as he was silently gawking over a ten foot sculpture of a roaring tiger, you called him cute.

of course, knowing him, he immediately started to flush. due to the weather, he easily pinned the redness of his cheeks to the cold. you, of course, were smarter than that.

speaking of the cold, you were freezing. while you made sure to bundle up, you didn't think to bring a scarf. the blisteringly cold wind tickled at your exposed neck, earning itself a shiver from you. you may not have thought much of it, but he certainly did.

from directly behind you, you felt a hand move to hold your hair out of the way as a large, burgundy fabric coiled itself around your neck, immediately encasing you in its warmth. glancing both behind and above you, you saw bertholdt, snugly tying his own scarf around you. from the looks of it, he thought nothing of it. you were cold, and he wanted to fix that. still, the brief collision of his palm against your bare skin was enough to make you melt.

cigarette sharing. this is just,, a thing. the entire group does it, you and bertholdt especially. there have been plenty of instances where you've snatched a dart from in between his lips, bringing it to your own. vice versa, as well— he's a bit more gentle with it, though. when he reaches for your lips, he's careful, and his knuckles ever so slightly graze against your face as he tugs the cigarette from out of your mouth. to this day, you debate surprising him with a quick kiss to his hand.

speaking of kisses, several have been placed on your forehead. despite not being an item, after a particular rough moment, bertholdt's incredibly tender whilst comforting you. by your shoulders, you'll be pulled into an embrace, where he'll bury his nose within your hair while quietly reassuring you. using your chin to raise your face, he'll place a soft, sweet kiss on the center of your forehead. it's short, but effective.

this man is your personal umbrella. if it's pouring rain—which it usually is— and you're without coverage, he is your coverage. he'll either pull off his jacket and use it to cover your head from the rain, or you'll be sheepishly pulled into his chest, where he sacrifices his back to keep you dry.

if the two of you ever exchanged your feelings toward one another, it would be through a dramatic, rainy confession.

you likely went first, blurting out what you felt through a flash of frustrated impulse; it was pouring down rain, and somehow, the two of you had gotten into a conflict in the parking lot of bertholdt's apartment complex. now, you were shouting at him, "perhaps it's because i love you, you goddamn imbecile!"

and he just,, stared. you stared in horror, he stared in utter shock. now, the two of you were drenched, and you were absolutely mortified.

after a couple of moments, you would falter. digging into the left pocket of your coat, you would pull out your pack of marlboros— despite the rain, you moved to get a smoke. "fuck this," you said, "i need a cigarette."

however, right as you flipped the top of the pack open, it would be abruptly smacked out of your grasp, rendering you speechless. and before you could even regain those words of yours back, they were quickly halted by the lips of another, shutting you up for good.

the bunch of you met through your college courses— of course, the three of them had known one another since childhood, but you managed to weasel your way into their close-knit friend group. ever since then, you all share the melancholy city life.

during your guys' campus days, reiner worked for his master's in kinesiology. it isn't that big of a shocker that he aimed for something that pertained to his bulkier build,, mans grows up to be an absolute unit, lmao. wanting to maintain an above average salary, he used his education to earn himself a place in the certified training department. currently, he's a personal trainer of many clients, all of which he does his best to maintain.

bertholdt majored in philosophy, and worked toward his master's degree. with his intelligence, he got it. while all three of you (reiner especially), urged him to pursue non-profit professionalism, praising his skill and all around ability to do so, he lacked the confidence to push for it, and ended up going down another path. currently, he's sticking to the safe road, aiming to become a professor in the very course he excelled in. he's yet to get there, though— right now, he's a professor's assistant. it's less tiring, at least. still, he was capable of becoming something better.

as for annie, she majored in political science. unlike the other two, she worked to obtain a bachelor's degree. with that being said, she attended college for a little longer. eventually, she got her degree, and while she was a little lost after graduation, she made her way into the policy analyst game. she had the writing skills, sOmewhat of the drive, and while she's the youngest worker in her office, she's also the brightest. they're all also terrified of her, she speaks .6 words a day.

of course, what you did is entirely up to you! if you took two or three years to get your degree, you likely graduated alongside the boys. if it took longer, no worries, annie's degree took quite a bit.

now, the four of you are living in the same city, and you're all experiencing that said city's constant mournful, dingy atmosphere. the aesthetic is calming, actually; the weather is never nice, it's a rarity that you ever get an actual glimpse of the sun. no matter the season, so long as it isn't summertime, layers are a must. rainfall is a weekly occurrence, as well as the occasional thunderstorm. the merged stench of coffee grounds and burnt oil linger within the streets of the city, simply adding to the melancholy. basically, the general scenery is dark, cold, wet, and quiet. it's a gloomy place,, definitely comparable to forks, washington, but more of a metropolis than a town.

even with all of that being said, you and your friends have a good time. honestly, if you didn't all have eachother, you'd all probably go mental.

while reiner and bertholdt have their own seperate apartments, you and annie share a place. the rent was cheap, especially once split between two homeowners. two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a single kitchen & living area. it was too good of a deal to pass up. fortunately, you and her are compatible roomates.

with that being said, of course, it's often that the four lounge around at your guys' apartment. bertholdt always makes sure to check in before visiting, while reiner has the sour habit of showing up unannounced. you've both had to deny him a key, despite his pleading. you love him, but not that much.

sometimes, the two of them crash in your living room. typically, it's reiner on the couch while bertholdt takes up the floor, waking up the next morning in whatever flamboyant position he'd folded himself into during the night. every now and then, you and annie forget to head back to your rooms, and you crash right there with them. before you all fall asleep, you're typically all huddled up near the glass doored balcony, allowing the rainfall to serenade the four of you into a deep slumber whilst sitting within the crisp remnants of cigarette smoke and freshly opened liquor.

in a way, it's funny, because you all have a tendency to do that on a work night. just the four of you, sitting in your living room, drinking your alcohol, coating your furniture in the brisk stench of pure, solicited nicotine, watching your very own city drown within the darkening sky's tears as little to zero words are even spoken. when it comes to you and your friends, that's something that can never be contradicted; the quiet. these were how you spent your evenings together, especially after a rough day— silence, smoking, and the most peaceful sorrow imaginable.

of course, when you aren't wallowing in your own self pity, you're known to get drinks together. there's this certain booth in a local pub, it had burnt burgundy seats made out of leather. it's your guys' booth, and whenever you go out for a drink or two, that's where you sit. it's way back in the corner, where none of you can be bothered. one time, a couple of rascals had stolen it, and they refused to move. without a second thought, annie slammed one of those motherfucker's faces into the table. in suite, reiner took care of the other one, yanking him from the collar and kicking him to the floor. you and bertholdt only watched,, you were laughing, poor bert simply dragGed his palm down his face.

hey, at least you got your seats back! absentmindedly, you etched your initials into the bottom of the table with your pen. without a thought, the other three did the same, marking the corner as their own. don't fuck with that table, you'll be slaughtered.

when winter hits, it hits mercilessly. it's insanely aesthetic, seeing your group standing on the side of the busy street, all absolutely layered up in buttoned up winter coats and thickly knitted scarves. because they're both unnecessarily large, you depend on them for warmth every now and then. the amount of times you've buried your face within reiner's side while sitting on the subway during the midst of wintertime is stupid. as for bertholdt, he occasionally takes off his very own coat, draping it over you or annie's shoulders whenever either of you are seen shivering. he doesn't mind getting a cold, so long as you're warm.

speaking of the subway, your city has one. it's a pretty average way to travel, and due to none of you actually owning your own vehicles, it's where you go whenever walking or taking the bus isn't an option. the only one who isn't allowed to ride the subway alone is you. there was instance where on your way home from work, you had a run-in with an unpleasant bystander with the means to hurt you. ever since then, a code has been set where if you want to travel underground, you do it with one of them.

^ one time, you didn't listen, and you went by yourself anyway— unfortunately for you, reiner was boarding the exact same stop as you, and gave you quite the scolding. however, it's only because you're special to him. to all of them.

you and annie are actually closer than you'd imagine. being one of the only female friends she's ever been able to keep, you've grown to be an important figure in her life. of course, she'd never admit that to you, but you know. some nights, the two of you lean against one another on the sofa while black & white reruns play on the television, ultimately sending you both to sleep.

once a week, you have lunch with bertholdt at the university he assists at. you know just how glum the work makes him, and fortunately, you showing up every single sunday with coffee and sandwiches never fails to brighten his day. sometimes, you're the only one that can get him through the week.

bert's crush on annie is still very much a thing, even in this universe. of course, he's older, and for the most part, he's grown out of it. still, he stares. not as much as he once did, but he does. you and reiner only watch from afar, quietly sullen that he'd never quite gotten the guts to act on it.

bertholdt is also the group's umbrella holder. it's constantly raining, and due to his height, he's the one holding the bigass umbrella over the four of your guys' heads. when there isn't an umbrella, you just sort of seek refuse underneath his arms, which he gladly gives you. reiner and annie don't really mind, they get wet. it is a thing where you're all rushing to get out of the rain, the two men shielding the women's hair from the storm with their jackets as they run for shelter.

you all smoke. well, actually, whether or not you smoke cigarettes in this scenario is entirely up to you. if you'd like, ignore this part. anyway, cigarette sharing is a given. while reiner's preferred brand of darts is far more lucrative and more likely to kill him (he's dead inside, it fits), he won't hesitate to snatch a cigarette from in between the tips of your lips, bringing them to his own. it's something all of you do, even bertholdt. sharing is caring, you all say. you tend to do the same thing with wine glasses, or beer bottles.

it's practically gotham city, you're all dead inside grownups, god isn't real.