imagine eren w a southern reader who can cook a mean ass southern dinner …
eren calls up all of his friends for a fun lil dinner, helping in preparation of course. “okay baby, i washed the greens.” eren sighed out. “how many times?” you ask, putting the cornbread in the oven. “one?” eren says, a confused look on his face. “unt unt. two mo’ and then they’ll be fine.” you say, starting to coat your macaroni in cheese.
“what? three times? for what?” eren asks, turning the water back on. “make sure they clean enough.” you shrug. “just cause you don’t wash yo ass three times inna shower don’t mean my greens don’t.” you say, smiling at your own little quip. eren rolls his eyes and shakes his head playfully. once everything was set up in its respective places, baked macaroni in a glass pan sat on top of a towel on the counter with the greens, cornbread, chicken and corn following behind it.
“damn it smell good as fuck in here!” you heard connie from the front door. “mhm. i’m finna tear this shit up.” sasha grins, rubbing her hands together. “make sure y’all wash y’all’s hands.” you say, walking into the living room and flopping on the couch. “damn, y/n made allat?” connie ask, grabbing a plate. “yup. and she got some peach cobbler in the fridge.” eren smiles. he’s so proud of his girlfriend’s hard work. connie gets his plate before armin, jean, sasha and mikasa and almost falls out on the floor after taking a bite of the macaroni and greens together. “awl shit, eren…this plate mean as fuck.” he laughs, eating the rest of his food.
it’s safe to say everyone was sleep after eating dinner.
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