That Jasmin™

Y'all ever think about how bright a future Jason had? He had so many hopes and dreams, that's why I don't subscribe to the modern idea he was always going to grow up to be a villain, he was just a kid!!

When I was little my dad was terrifying. Any tiny mistake would be met with shouting and punishment. My siblings and I weren't hit, but we were always afraid of him and hated seeing him after my parents got divorced.

One time after shouting at us, after everything had settled down, he actually came and apologized to me for yelling. He looked so ashamed of himself. I must have been about 6 or 7. My little autistic ass asked him why he yelled so much if he was sorry. He shrugged and said that's how his parents raised him. My still-autistic ass then asked him, "Well, did you like it?"

He started laughing and teared up a bit, then admitted that, well. No.

After that he started going to therapy. He told us about it, told us how great therapy was, how much he cried and how good it felt, how much it was helping him. He learned how to cope with his feelings and frustrations, and with how his own parents had abused him growing up. He stopped yelling at us, and he always made sure to tell us he loved us and always would no matter what. He didn't punish us anymore, he just talked to us when things went wrong. Now and then he got frustrated and angry, but he always caught himself before too long, apologized, and talked it out.

Fast forward a few decades later, and he's the only member of my family I still talk to. He remains the only member of my family who ever said he was proud of me, who ever made me feel like I was worth anything. He was never perfect, and he still isn't, but he realized he was passing on the pain of his own childhood to his children, and he did something about it. He went from being the person I was most afraid of, to the one I felt safest around.

Everyone else in my family is very conservative, and very clearly so terrified of being wrong that any suggestion that they may be mistaken about something leads to anger, defensive shouting and fighting, or even violence.

We know that punishment doesn't work. It's been proven over and over again. (Consequences are another matter, but this is about punishment, about hurting someone as a result of them doing something "wrong.") But it's so deeply rooted into so many cultures that it is very difficult to overcome that instinct, that every generation instills in their children, that Punishment Is Correct. Never mind all the evidence to the contrary. It feels satisfying to punish someone, to release your anger or frustration with them by hurting them, but it doesn't fix anything. It just makes things worse. It just makes everyone so terrified of making a mistake that they twist their brains into a mess of anger and aggression to protect themselves from the possibility of ever realizing and admitting that they were wrong.

so i've been crying in my car for three days straight and honestly? best thing that's happened to me all month.

hear me out before you think i've completely lost it, (tho depression has def been consuming me) it's scorpio season, which means the universe is basically forcing us all to confront the messy, uncomfortable parts of ourselves we usually shove in a mental closet and pretend don't exist.

and while that sounds absolutely terrible (because it kind of is), it's also the most powerful transformation tool you're probably avoiding.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ why i used to hate scorpio season ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

for years, i would dread this time of year because everything felt so INTENSE. like, i'd be minding my own business and suddenly i'm having a breakdown about something that happened in middle school or questioning my entire life path because someone gave me a weird look.

i thought something was wrong with me. turns out, scorpio season was just doing its job !!! dragging all my repressed stuff to the surface so i could actually deal with it instead of pretending it didn't exist.

getting depression this season has been worse on top of everything else that's been going on, in my life and the world. i've never been this deep into sadness and numbness. (my first time ever getting diagnosed with depression) and it isn't something i wanna continue going through.

well, shadow work isn't some mystical thing where you light candles and chant (though no judgment if that's your vibe). it's literally just looking at the parts of yourself you've been hiding from, even from yourself.

you know that jealousy you feel but would rather die than admit? that rage you stuff down because you're supposed to be "nice"? those insecurities you cover up with fake confidence? yeah, that's your shadow knocking.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ my most embarrassing shadow work moment ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

last scorpio season, i had to face the fact that i was lowkey obsessed with this girl on instagram. like, unhealthily checking her stories, analyzing her posts, feeling sick when she posted something amazing.

instead of just unfollowing her and moving on like a normal person, i decided to dig deeper. why was i so triggered by her success? what was she representing that i felt i couldn't have?

turns out, she embodied this confident, unapologetic version of femininity that i desperately wanted but was too scared to claim. i was jealous because she was living authentically while i was performing "acceptable" all the time.

once i realized this, everything shifted. i stopped seeing her as competition and started seeing her as inspiration. i began showing up more authentically online, stopped dimming my personality to seem more "professional," and guess what? people responded way better to the real me.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ shadow work that actually works ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the jealousy audit ~ make a list of everyone who makes you feel some type of way. what specifically triggers you about them? that's showing you what you want but don't think you can have.

the rage journal ~ when was the last time you felt genuinely pissed off? not annoyed, but ANGRY. what was really behind it? anger is usually fear or hurt wearing a disguise.

the shame spiral deep dive ~ what's the thing you're most afraid of people finding out about you? write it down. sit with it. usually the shame is way worse than the actual thing.

the projection detective ~ what do you judge harshly in others? spoiler alert: you probably have that same quality and are rejecting it in yourself.

the people-pleaser investigation ~ when do you say yes when you mean no? what are you afraid will happen if you disappoint people?

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ why this creates the ultimate glow up ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

when you stop using all your energy to hide parts of yourself, that energy becomes available for actually living. like, imagine how much mental space you'd have if you weren't constantly monitoring yourself to make sure you seem perfect.

i started noticing that after doing shadow work, i walked differently. talked differently. i stopped apologizing for existing and started taking up space unapologetically. people started treating me with more respect because i was respecting myself.

your "negative" emotions aren't enemies !!! they're information. that jealousy is showing you what you desire. that anger is showing you where your boundaries are being crossed. that sadness is showing you what matters to you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ don't do this alone ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

shadow work can bring up some heavy stuff, so please don't try to therapist yourself through major trauma. get actual support. friends, therapists, support groups, whatever works for you.

also, start small. you don't need to excavate your entire psyche in one scorpio season. pick one thing that's been bothering you and explore that. integration takes time.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ the plot twist ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

your "dark" side often contains your greatest gifts. that jealousy might be showing you your ambition. that anger might be showing you your passion. that sensitivity you try to hide might be your superpower.

the goal is to know you're trying to integrate them consciously instead of letting them run your life unconsciously.

so if scorpio season has you feeling like everything is falling apart, maybe it's actually falling into place. sometimes you have to get uncomfortable to get free.

and honestly? crying in your car at 2am while having realizations about your life patterns is kind of iconic behavior. lean into it 🖤

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

xoxo, mindy ♡

Levi Ackerman

The world seems to shift beneath you, a rumble that grows into a violent quake, shaking the ground and everything on it. You instinctively grab hold of Pongo, your Dalmatian, and take cover under a sturdy table. The tremors last for what feels like an eternity, causing objects to fall and shatter around you.

When the shaking finally subsides, you breathe a sigh of relief, but it's cut short. The ceiling above you groans and cracks. You barely have time to pull Pongo closer to you before the plaster and beams come crashing down. You shield Pongo with your body, pain shooting through you as the debris traps you.

"Stay calm, Pongo," you whisper, your voice shaky. Your loyal companion whimpers, nuzzling against you.

Hours pass. Your limbs grow numb from the pressure and the awkward position you're in. You try to stay conscious, but it's a struggle. Then, you hear it – the distant sound of sirens, growing louder, closer. Pongo's ears perk up, and he begins to bark.

"Help!" you manage to shout, though your voice is hoarse and weak. "Over here! Help!"

Pongo's barking grows more frantic. You hear voices, heavy boots on rubble, the clatter of tools. Relief washes over you – they're here. But you're still buried, unable to move.

"Pongo, go get help," you whisper, hoping he understands. "Find someone."

Pongo hesitates, but then he scrambles out from under the table and through a small gap in the debris. You pray he'll find someone who can save you.

Captain Levi Ackerman wipes sweat from his brow, surveying the chaotic scene. Buildings lie in ruins, smoke and dust filling the air. His team moves swiftly, searching for survivors. His sharp eyes catch movement – a Dalmatian, dashing towards them.

"Hey, buddy," he says, bending down as the dog approaches. The Dalmatian grabs Levi's trousers with his teeth, tugging insistently.

Levi's brows furrow. "What is wrong with you? You're going to rip my trousers"

The dog pulls harder, not letting go. It's clear he wants Levi to follow. Trusting the animal's instincts, Levi signals to his team. "I'm going with him. Keep searching this area."

Pongo leads Levi through the rubble, his determination unrelenting. He pulls Levi down narrow passages, over broken beams, and through precarious gaps. Levi follows, impressed by the dog's intelligence and persistence.

Finally, Pongo stops and starts digging at a particular spot, barking furiously. Levi drops to his knees and starts clearing the debris with his gloved hands. "Hang in there! We're coming!"

Your voice is weak but audible. "Over here! Please, help!"

Levi's heart pounds as he works faster. He uncovers a part of your arm and gently squeezes it. "Hey, I'm Levi. I've got you. Just stay with me."

Pongo licks your face, whining softly. Levi calls over his shoulder, "I need help over here!"

Two firefighters join him, and together they lift the heavier beams, carefully extracting you from the wreckage. You're bruised and dusty, but alive. As they pull you free, an aftershock hits, the ground trembling once more.

Without hesitation, Levi throws himself over you, shielding your body with his. His arms encircle you protectively, his weight pressing you into the ground. "Stay still," he murmurs into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "It's going to be okay."

The aftershock passes, and Levi slowly eases off you, helping you sit up. "Are you hurt badly? Can you move?"

"I think I'm okay," you say, though your voice shakes. "Just a bit banged up."

Levi helps you to your feet, keeping a steadying hand on your arm. "Let's get you checked out by the medics."

You nod, leaning on him as you walk. Pongo stays close by your side, his tail wagging with relief.

As you reach the triage area, Levi hands you over to the medical team but stays nearby. After a thorough check-up, they determine you have no major injuries – just some cuts and bruises, and dehydration. You're given water and a blanket to keep warm.

Levi approaches you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Looks like you're going to be just fine."

"Thanks to you," you reply, feeling a rush of gratitude. "And Pongo, of course."

Levi kneels down, scratching Pongo behind the ears. "You've got quite the dog here. He's a real hero."

Pongo barks happily, licking Levi's face. You laugh, the sound a welcome release after the day's ordeal. "Yeah, he's my brave boy."

Levi stands, meeting your eyes with a soft gaze. "I'd like to get to know him better. Maybe his owner too."

Your cheeks flush at his words. "Oh? Are you flirting with me, Mr. Firefighter?"

"Maybe I am," he says with a playful glint in his eye. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card, handing it to you. "Here's my number. In case you want to thank me properly some time. Or if Pongo wants to see me again."

You take the card, smiling. "I might just do that."

Levi gives you a nod, then turns to leave, but not before giving Pongo one last pat. "Take care, both of you."

As he walks away, you feel a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. Today has been a whirlwind, but in the midst of the chaos, something unexpected has happened. You look at the card in your hand, then at Pongo, who looks up at you with those loyal, loving eyes.

"Well, Pongo," you say, scratching his head. "Looks like we've made a new friend today."

Pongo barks in agreement, and you can't help but smile. The world may have shaken, but here in this moment, you feel a sense of stability, hope, and maybe the beginning of something new.

Eren Jaeger

The shrill sound of the fire alarm slices through the calm of your office, wrenching you from the spreadsheet on your screen. Startled, you glance around at your coworkers, who are equally confused and alarmed. The usual hum of keyboards and muted conversations is replaced by a rising tide of panic. Smoke begins to seep under the door to your office, curling in ominous tendrils that make your heart race.

You stand, the chair screeching against the floor, and grab your phone and purse. "Everybody out! Let's go!" you shout, trying to maintain a semblance of calm. The urgency in your voice propels everyone into action. Feet pound against the carpet as your colleagues scramble towards the exit, their voices a cacophony of fear.

As you push into the hallway, the thickening smoke and growing heat become overwhelming. You cover your mouth with a sleeve, coughing as you make your way to the stairwell. But the sight that greets you stops you cold. Flames lick the walls, blocking the way down. The fire is spreading faster than you ever imagined.

"Shit," you mutter, turning back. Your mind races, trying to recall the layout of the building. The only option left is the balcony in your office. You sprint back, hoping against hope that help is on its way.

When you burst back into your office, you're met with the roar of flames and a wave of intense heat. Your coworkers are nowhere to be seen—they must have found another way out. Panic claws at your chest as you rush to the balcony door and fling it open. The fresh air is a brief relief from the smoke, but you're still trapped.

Below, a scene of chaos unfolds. Fire trucks are parked haphazardly, their sirens blaring. Firefighters are everywhere, some aiming powerful jets of water at the building, others coordinating the evacuation. You spot a large inflatable airbag directly below your balcony, and a flicker of hope ignites within you.

"Hey! Up here!" you shout, waving your arms. The movement catches the attention of a firefighter, his face partially obscured by his helmet and the smoke. He motions to his team and points up at you. Relief floods through you as you realize you're not alone.

Moments later, the firefighter appears on the balcony using the ladder, his face now fully visible. He's tall, with striking green eyes that are filled with determination. His gear is covered in soot, but he moves with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what he's doing.

"I'm Eren Jaeger," he says, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We're going to get you out of here."

You nod, your fear momentarily quelled by his presence. "Y/N," you manage to say through the smoke. "How do we get down?"

He steps closer, assessing the situation. "The stairwell's blocked, and the fire's spreading too fast for us to wait for backup. We need to jump."

Your heart skips a beat. "Jump? Are you serious?"

He nods, his expression serious but reassuring. "It's the safest way, you do not have ladder-appropriate shoes on. We have an airbag set up down there. I'll go with you."

The thought of jumping off a balcony is terrifying, but the alternative is far worse. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Okay. What do I do?"

Eren moves to the edge of the balcony and looks down, then back at you. "I'll count to three. On three, we jump together. I'll hold onto you, so you don't need to worry about anything."

You nod again, trying to steady yourself. The heat is almost unbearable now, and the smoke is making it hard to breathe. Eren positions himself next to you, his grip firm and reassuring.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice cutting through the haze of your fear.

"As I'll ever be," you reply, your voice trembling.

He gives you a tight nod. "Alright. One, two—" Before you can register what's happening, he grabs you and leaps off the balcony. A scream rips from your throat as the ground rushes up to meet you.

You hit the airbag with a jarring thud, Eren's strong arms cushioning you. The world spins for a moment before you realize you're safe. You scramble to your feet, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

"What the fuck happened to three?" you shout, your voice a mix of relief and anger.

Eren chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement despite the soot on his face. "Sorry, Y/N. It's easier if you don't expect it. Less time to panic."

You can't help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking. "You could have warned me!"

"Where's the fun in that?" he teases, pulling off his helmet. His hair is damp with sweat, but he runs a hand through it, giving you a lopsided grin.

Despite the chaos around you, the heat of the flames, and the residual fear, you find yourself smiling back. "Thank you, Eren. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up."

He shrugs, a modest gesture that doesn't quite match the heroism of his actions. "Just doing my job. But I'm glad I could help." He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a moment. "You did great up there."

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, the adrenaline making it hard to come up with a witty response. "I just followed orders."

Eren laughs, a warm sound that cuts through the lingering fear. "Well, if you ever need saving again, you know who to call." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a slightly crumpled business card, handing it to you.

You take it, your fingers brushing against his. "Eren Jaeger, firefighter," you read aloud, then glance up at him. "You really carry these around?"

He gives a sheepish shrug. "Never know when you might need to network."

You chuckle, slipping the card into your pocket. "Well, I appreciate it. And I might just take you up on that."

His smile widens, and he steps closer, his expression earnest. "Or, you know, if you ever want to grab a coffee or something. I promise it's a lot less dangerous than jumping off balconies."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Are you asking me out, Eren?"

He meets your gaze, unabashed. "Maybe I am. What do you say?"

You glance around at the chaos slowly being brought under control, then back at him. "I think I'd like that."

He grins, and for a moment, the world feels a little less chaotic. "Great. I'll wait for your call."

Jean Kirstein

The streets are quiet tonight, the city wrapped in a blanket of calm as the clock nears midnight. The rhythmic wail of distant sirens is a faint reminder that peace can be shattered at any moment. For you, the tranquillity of your drive home is shattered when, out of nowhere, a car swerves wildly into your lane. The impact is sudden and violent, metal screeching and glass shattering as your car is wedged between two others.

You're trapped. Panic surges through you, the acrid smell of gasoline and burnt rubber filling your nostrils. You try to move, but the pain in your arm is excruciating. Your breath comes in short, panicked gasps. The world outside is a blur of flashing lights and muffled shouts.

"Hang on! We're gonna get you out of there!" The voice is firm, and authoritative, cutting through your panic. You turn your head, vision swimming, and see a man in a firefighter's uniform. His helmet reads 'Kirstein.'

"I'm Jean. Can you tell me your name?" he asks, his voice steady and reassuring despite the chaos around him.

"Y/N," you manage to say, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through your arm.

"Okay, Y/N. We're gonna get you out. Just stay with me, alright?"

Jean turns to his team, issuing rapid commands. "We need the jaws of life over here! This car door's not budging without them."

You watch as they work with practised efficiency, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over you despite the pain. Jean returns to your side, his eyes scanning you for injuries.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, his tone softer now.

"My arm... it hurts a lot," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

He nods, glancing at your arm. "Looks like it might be broken. We'll get you out and take care of that, I promise."

The next few minutes are a blur of noise and motion. The jaws of life whirr and groan as they pry your car open. Jean's team works quickly, and soon there's enough space for him to reach in and start easing you out.

"This might hurt a bit," he warns, slipping an arm around your shoulders and helping you manoeuvre out of the wreckage. You bite back a cry as pain flares in your arm, but Jean's grip is strong and steady.

Once you're free, he helps you over to a nearby ambulance, easing you onto a stretcher. "Let's take a look at that arm," he says, examining it with gentle hands. You watch his face, noting the concentration etched into his features.

"Definitely broken," he confirms, looking up at you with a reassuring smile. "But don't worry, we'll fix you up."

As he works, you can't help but notice his eyes – a warm brown that seems to reflect the concern and determination within him. He wraps your arm, immobilizing it with a sling.

"There, that should hold until we get you to the hospital," he says, his voice gentle. "How's the pain?"

"It's... manageable," you reply, grateful for the relief the sling provides.

"Good," Jean says, standing back slightly to give you some space. "You're doing great, Y/N. Just hang in there a little longer."

You nod, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving you feeling drained.

"Thank you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jean smiles, a warm, genuine expression that reaches his eyes. "Just doing my job. Besides, you made it easy on me."

As the paramedics prepare to transport you to the hospital, Jean stays by your side, offering words of comfort and support. His presence is a steady anchor in the midst of the chaos.

Once you're settled in the ambulance, he leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, I don't usually give out my number to people I rescue," he says, his tone teasing.

You raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Well," he says, pulling a card from his pocket and handing it to you, "I like to make sure they're worth the trouble first."

You laugh softly, taking the card. "And what makes you think I'm worth the trouble?"

He grins, his eyes twinkling. "Call it a hunch. Plus, I figure anyone who can handle a night like this with such grace deserves a chance."

You glance at the card, then back at him. "I'll think about it," you say, slipping the card into your pocket.

"That's all I can ask for," Jean replies, stepping back as the ambulance doors start to close. "Take care, Y/N. And don't be a stranger."

Connie Springer

The storm rages around you, its howling winds and torrential rain turning the night into a tempestuous nightmare. You cling to the hope that help will arrive soon as you lie pinned beneath a heavy tree that fell on your porch. The pain is excruciating, but you manage to stay conscious, your breath coming in short, laboured gasps.

Suddenly, you hear the faint wail of sirens approaching, growing louder with each passing second. Relief floods through you as you realize that rescue is on its way. A moment later, you catch sight of flashing lights and the unmistakable red of a fire truck.

"Hang on! We're coming!" a voice calls out, and you turn your head slightly to see a group of firefighters rushing towards you. One of them, a young man with a buzz cut and a determined expression, quickly rushes to you.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he asks, kneeling beside you. His voice is warm and reassuring despite the urgency of the situation.

"Y-yes," you manage to croak out. "I'm... I'm stuck."

"Hi Stuck, I'm Connie Springer," he says with a small smile, trying to keep you calm and you let out a weak snort. "Hey, that's laughter and laughter is good. We're going to get you out of here. Just hang tight, okay?"

You nod weakly, your eyes flickering to the other firefighters gathering around. Connie follows your gaze and starts pointing them out, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"See that guy over there with the horse face?" he says, pointing to a tall, lanky firefighter. "That's Jean. Don't worry about him, he's more scared of you than you are of him."

You can't help but let out a small, pained laugh. Connie's light-hearted insults are a welcome distraction from the pain.

"And the one with the permanent scowl?" Connie continues, indicating a dark-haired young man who looks like he's never smiled a day in his life. "That's Eren. He's angry because the rain ruined his hair."

Eren shoots Connie a glare but doesn't say anything, focusing instead on assessing the situation.

"Then we've got Armin," Connie says, pointing to a blond firefighter with a kind face. "He's the brains of the operation."

Armin gives you a reassuring smile. "We'll have you out of here in no time," he says.

"And last but not least," Connie adds, gesturing to a woman with messy hair and a wide grin, "that's Sasha. She'd probably eat the tree if she thought it would taste good."

"Hey!" Sasha protests, though she's laughing too.

Connie turns his attention back to you. "Alright, Y/N, we're going to lift this tree off you and get you out. Just keep talking to me, okay? It'll help keep your mind off things."

As his colleagues get to work, you try to focus on Connie's voice. "What do you do, Y/N? What's your job?"

"I'm... I'm a voice actress," you say, wincing as the pain flares up again.

"No way," Connie says, eyes widening in surprise. "Anything we might've heard of?"

"Well, I'm the voice of Maomao in 'The Apothecary Diaries,'" you reply, managing a small smile despite the pain.

Connie's face lights up. "No way! We watch that show all the time at the station! Guys, did you hear that? We've got Maomao here!"

The others pause in their work for a moment, looking at you with renewed interest and excitement.

"No kidding?" Jean says, his tone softening. "That's awesome."

"Yeah, it's one of our favourite shows," Eren admits, though he still looks focused on the task at hand.

Armin nods. "It's true. We watch it together whenever we get the chance."

Sasha grins. "Can you say one of her lines for us?"

You chuckle softly, despite the situation. "Sure. How about, 'This is poison'?"

As you say the line in Maomao's voice, you notice their expressions light up, even in the midst of the storm and chaos. It's a small moment of joy amidst the danger.

"That was perfect!" Sasha exclaims, her grin widening.

"Alright, let's focus," Connie says, though he's smiling too. "Y/N, we're almost there. Just a little longer, okay?"

You nod, doing your best to stay calm as the team works to lift the tree off you. Connie stays by your side the entire time, his presence a comforting anchor.

Finally, with a coordinated effort, they manage to lift the tree just enough for you to be pulled free. Connie gently helps you up, careful not to jostle you too much.

"You did great, Y/N," he says, his tone soft and encouraging. "We're going to get you checked out now, make sure everything's okay."

As they guide you towards the ambulance, you feel a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," you say, looking at each of them. "All of you."

"Just doing our job," Jean says with a smile.

"Yeah, but we've never rescued someone as cool as you before," Sasha adds, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Connie stays by your side as the paramedics check you over, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N," he says quietly, "when you're feeling better, maybe we could grab a coffee or something? I'd love to hear more about your work."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Are you flirting with me, Connie?"

He grins, unabashed. "Maybe a little. But can you blame me?"

Before you can respond, a stern voice interrupts. "Springer!"

You turn to see a short, intimidating man with dark hair and piercing eyes approaching. He must be the captain.

"Cap," Connie says, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"What's going on here?" Levi demands, his gaze sharp. "I expected this kind of behaviour from Jean, but not from you."

Connie scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Cap. But we've never rescued someone as pretty as Y/N before."

Levi's eyes flicker to you, a hint of recognition in them. Before he can say anything, Eren steps forward. "Captain, you know who this is, right? This is Y/N, the voice of Maomao from 'The Apothecary Diaries.'"

Levi's expression softens ever so slightly, though he tries to hide it. "I see."

Jean, Sasha, Eren, and Armin gather around, their excitement palpable. "Y/N, could you say a few more lines from the show?" Jean asks, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"Yeah, please?" Sasha adds, her grin infectious.

You can't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. How about, 'The key to understanding poisons is understanding people'?"

Their reactions are priceless, a mix of awe and joy. Even Levi seems slightly impressed, though he quickly regains his composure.

"Thank you," Armin says, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "That was amazing."

As the paramedics finish up, Connie slips a piece of paper into your hand. "That's my number," he says with a wink. "In case you ever want that coffee."

You smile, tucking the paper into your pocket. "Thanks, Connie. I'll think about it."

Levi clears his throat, giving Connie a pointed look. "Let's get back to work, Springer."

Connie nods, giving you one last smile before turning to join his team. As they head back to the fire truck, you hear Sasha teasing him. "Connie's got a crush!"

"Shut up, Sasha," Connie mutters, though he's grinning.

Maybe, just maybe, you'll take him up on that coffee.

Armin Arlert

You stand on the edge of the bridge, the river flowing ominously below. The cold night air bites at your cheeks as you scan the surroundings, your heart pounding in your chest. You've received a call about a potential jumper, and your instincts are on high alert. Your hand rests on the grip of your gun as you inch closer, eyes searching for any sign of movement.

"Hello?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly. "This is Officer Y/N L/N. Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity. Just as you're about to take another step forward, you hear a rustling sound. Your training kicks in, and you reach for your radio to call for backup, but before you can do so, a large figure emerges from the shadows and lunges at you. You barely have time to react as you're knocked off balance, your gun slipping from its holster.

"Don't move," a gruff voice growls in your ear, and you feel the cold metal of your own gun pressed against your temple.

You don't need to see his face to recognize him. Reiner Braun, the escaped convict you've been briefed about. The realization sends a jolt of fear through you, but you force yourself to stay calm.

"Well, isn't this just great," you mutter sarcastically. "An ambush. Very creative, asshole."

"Shut up," he snaps, tightening his grip on you. "You're gonna do exactly what I say, or I'll blow your brains out right here."

You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling up inside you. "You're an idiot, you know that? This whole plan of yours is idiotic."

Before he can respond, the sound of sirens fills the air. The fire department has arrived for the reported jumper. You see the flashing lights reflecting off the water below, and a glimmer of hope ignites within you. Help is here.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Captain Levi Ackerman stepping out of the fire truck, followed by Armin Arlert and the rest of the crew. Levi's eyes lock onto yours, and you can see the concern in them, though his face remains stoic.

"Y/N," Levi calls out, his voice steady. "How's it going?"

"Got my own gun to my head, so not great, thanks for asking, Levi," you reply dryly. "While you're here, do you mind giving this oaf a lecture on oral hygiene? His breath is gonna kill me before a bullet."

"Y/N, you fucking idiot! Stop antagonizing him!" Jean yells from behind Levi, his expression a mix of anger and fear.

"Get his bitch ass, Y/N!" Connie shouts, earning a glare from Levi.

Reiner's grip on you tightens, and you can feel his agitation growing. "Shut up, all of you! Or I'll—"

Before he can finish his threat, you take a deep breath and slam the back of your head against his nose with all your might. The impact sends stars dancing across your vision, but it also causes Reiner to loosen his grip on you. You use the moment of distraction to twist out of his grasp, but his hand catches your arm, and you both tumble over the edge of the bridge.

The cold water engulfs you, the shock of it stealing your breath away. You struggle against the current, trying to wrestle Reiner as he thrashes beside you. Your training kicks in, and you manage to land a few solid punches, but he's strong, and the water makes it difficult to gain any leverage.

Suddenly, you see Eren, Levi, and Armin wading into the water, determination etched on their faces. Eren reaches you first, grabbing Reiner by the collar and delivering a punch to his jaw that leaves him momentarily stunned. Levi is next, his movements precise and efficient as he helps you wrestle Reiner into submission. Armin is there too, his hands steady as he assists in securing Reiner's hands behind his back with the cuffs you've managed to retrieve.

As you finally drag Reiner out of the water, panting and shivering, Jean and Sasha rush over with foil blankets. They wrap one around you, and you can feel the warmth seeping into your bones, but the adrenaline still courses through your veins.

"You're a real piece of work, Y/N," Jean mutters as he cleans the cuts on your hands and face.

"Yeah, well, it worked, didn't it?" you reply, wincing as he dabs at a particularly nasty gash.

Connie, ever the joker, grins at you. "Maybe next time we should get you some floaties, huh? Just in case."

You manage a laugh, despite the situation. "I'll keep that in mind, Con."

As the chaos begins to settle, you notice Armin watching you with a mixture of admiration and concern. With Eren's encouragement, he steps forward, his eyes soft but determined.

"Hey, Y/N," Armin begins, his voice gentle. "That was incredibly brave, what you did. Are you alright?"

You nod, still catching your breath. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for the help, Armin."

He hesitates for a moment before continuing. "I was wondering if maybe, after all this, you'd like to go to a book cafe with me? I know it's a bit sudden, but I thought it might be a nice way to unwind."

You blink in surprise, a smile slowly spreading across your face. "I'd like that, Armin. I'd like that a lot."

Eren claps Armin on the back, grinning. "Told you she'd say yes."

Mikasa Ackerman

The day is supposed to be perfect. The sky is a brilliant blue, the sun is warm against your skin, and you have just finished an exhilarating photo shoot. You get into your car, ready to head home and unwind. Everything seems normal until you start descending the hill towards the river. You press the brake pedal, but instead of slowing down, the car continues to pick up speed. Panic surges through you as you realize the brakes have failed.

The steering wheel shakes violently as you attempt to control the car, but it's no use. The river looms closer, and in a split second, the car breaks through the barrier and plunges into the icy water. The impact jolts you, and water begins to flood into the vehicle. You fumble with your seatbelt, but it's jammed. You scream for help, knowing the chances of someone hearing you are slim. The water rises swiftly, and you feel your hope diminishing with every passing second.

As your car is nearly submerged, you hear the muffled sounds of sirens and see flashing lights through the water. Relief washes over you when you see a figure in a firefighter's uniform wading towards your car. She reaches your window, her eyes locking with yours, and you see a determination that makes you believe you might just survive this.

"Hey, are you okay in there?" the firefighter shouts, her voice barely audible over the roar of the river.

You nod frantically, your eyes wide with fear. She gives you a reassuring smile, her dark hair plastered to her face by the water.

"Hold on! I'm going to get you out of there. What's your name?"

"Y/N!" you shout back, your voice shaking.

"Y/N, I'm Mikasa. Just keep looking at me, okay? We're going to get you out of here." Her voice is steady and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. "You know, you're really pretty, Y/N"

You feel a blush despite the dire situation. Mikasa's words keep you focused as she works on the door, her strong arms straining against the pressure. She mutters to herself, cursing the stubbornness of the vehicle.

Finally, the door gives way, and water rushes in, submerging you completely. You thrash in the cold water, but Mikasa's arms are around you in an instant. She pulls you out of the car with a strength you wouldn't have believed possible.

"Hold on to me!" she commands, her voice firm. You cling to her, your hands trembling from the cold and fear. She swims powerfully towards the shore, where a team of firefighters is waiting. You hear shouts and see the worried faces of Mikasa's colleagues as they help pull you both out of the water.

"Are you alright?" one of them asks, a stern-looking man with piercing eyes. "I'm Captain Levi. Can you tell me if you're hurt?"

"I think I'm okay," you manage to say, your teeth chattering. "Just a cut on my forehead."

Levi examines the cut, his touch surprisingly gentle. "It's not too deep. Let me clean it up and get some sterile strips on it." He moves efficiently, cleaning the wound and applying the strips. Then he wraps you in a foil blanket, the metallic crinkling sound oddly comforting.

As Levi works, Mikasa introduces you to the rest of her team. "That's Eren, my best friend. The blonde over there is Armin. Connie and Sasha are the goofballs of the group. And Jean... well, he's Jean."

Jean and Connie step forward, their eyes wide with excitement. "Oh my God, you're Y/N L/N! We have your posters!" Connie blurts out.

Jean nods vigorously. "Yeah, the Hot Summer Nights shoot was incredible. And the Victoria's Secret Lingerie one—wow!"

Levi shoots them both a stern look and slaps them upside the head. "Be respectful, you two. She's just been through a traumatic experience."

"But Captain, you let us pin the firefighter poster in the station!" Connie protests, rubbing his head.

You can't help but laugh at their antics, despite everything. "Thank you for rescuing me. All of you."

Mikasa smiles at you, her eyes softening. "It's our job, but I'm glad you're okay. By the way, would you like to go out sometime?"

Surprised, you blink at her. "Really? I'd like that."

She grins and, without missing a beat, steals a pen and notepad from Levi's jacket pocket. "Sorry, Captain. Need this for a moment." She scribbles her number down and hands it to you. "Call me."

Levi rolls his eyes but doesn't comment. You take the paper, your fingers brushing against Mikasa's. "I will. Thank you, Mikasa. For everything."

As the team packs up their gear and prepares to leave, Mikasa stays by your side. "We'll get you checked out at the hospital just to be safe. Come on, let's get you warmed up."

She helps you into the ambulance, her presence a steady anchor in the whirlwind of your emotions. You glance at the notepad in your hand, feeling a glimmer of excitement amidst the aftermath of your ordeal. Maybe something good can come out of this terrifying experience after all.

Mikasa sits next to you in the ambulance, her hand gently holding yours. "So, Y/N, how does a famous model end up in a place like this?"

You smile, a bit sheepishly. "Just bad luck, I guess. But I'm glad you were the one to save me."

"Me too," Mikasa says softly, her eyes never leaving yours. "Me too."

Annie Leonhart

You're lounging against the wall of the opulent elevator, tapping your heel against the polished marble floor. The gleaming doors reflect your short black cocktail dress, which fits you perfectly for the big charity event you're supposed to be attending. As an escort for some rich old businessman, your job tonight is to make him look good. But right now, all you can think about is that cigarette break you desperately need.

Just as the elevator starts moving, it jerks violently. You stumble, and your heel snaps. Pain shoots up your leg, and you cry out, collapsing to the floor. The realization hits you—your ankle is broken.

"Great," you mutter to yourself, wincing as you try to shift into a more comfortable position. "This is just peachy."

Minutes pass, and panic starts to set in. You're stuck in an elevator, alone, in pain, and no one knows you're here. You fumble for your phone, but there's no signal. You press the emergency button, hoping it'll bring some help.

It feels like an eternity, but finally, you hear muffled voices and the sound of someone climbing onto the roof of the elevator. A small panel in the ceiling opens, and a blonde head pops through. The firefighter's blue eyes meet yours.

"Hey," she says, her voice calm and soothing. "How are you doing?"

You manage a weak smile. "Peachy keen. Never been better."

She smirks at your sarcasm, clearly appreciating your wit. "I'm Annie. We're gonna get you out of here, alright?"

"Sounds good, Annie. I'd give you a hand, but as you can see, I'm a bit stuck." You gesture to your broken ankle and broken heel, both of which make your current situation even more ridiculous.

Annie descends into the elevator, landing gracefully beside you. She kneels down and examines your ankle with gentle fingers, making you wince. "Definitely broken. We'll get you to the hospital as soon as we're out of here."

You roll your eyes. "Fantastic. And here I thought this night couldn't get any worse."

Annie chuckles. "You've got quite the sense of humour. I like that."

Just as you're starting to feel a bit more at ease, the elevator suddenly lurches. The lights flicker, and you both freeze. "What was that?" you ask, panic creeping into your voice.

Annie looks up, her face serious. "The cable must be unstable. Stay calm."

You don't have time to respond before the cable snaps, and the elevator plunges downward. You let out a scream, grabbing onto Annie as she wraps her arms around you, trying to shield you from the impact. "This is so not elevator death plunge appropriate attire!" you yell over the deafening noise.

Despite the dire situation, you hear Annie laugh. It's a short, genuine sound that somehow makes you feel a little bit better. The elevator crashes into the basement, the impact jarring. Pain flares up in your ankle, and you let out a groan. Annie's grip on you tightens, her body shielding you from the worst of it.

"We're alive," she murmurs, sounding a bit surprised.

"Thank God for small miracles," you reply, breathing heavily.

Not long after, the sound of more voices echoes through the shaft. Two more firefighters rappel down to the ruined elevator. One has a buzz cut and a wide grin, and the other has a longer face and a slightly more serious expression.

"Hey there!" the one with the buzz cut greets cheerfully. "I'm Connie, and this is Jean. We're here to rescue you."

"Thanks, Connie," you say, offering a pained smile. "I'd stand and greet you properly, but, you know..." You wave at your broken ankle.

Jean shakes his head, chuckling. "We'll get you out of here. Just sit tight."

As they work to open the elevator doors, you glance at Annie. "Do me a favour and make sure I don't flash anyone, okay? The dirty old bastard I'm here with did not pay for the peepshow package."

The three firefighters stare at you for a moment before Connie bursts out laughing. "What do you do for work, anyway?"

You give him a sly smile. "People pay for the pleasure of my company."

Connie's eyes widen, and Jean coughs, trying to hide his laughter. Annie just shakes her head, still smirking.

With the doors finally pried open, they carefully lift you out. "We're gonna take you to the hospital," Jean explains. "But first, you said the guy you came here with owes you, right?"

You nod. "Yeah. He owes me my fee."

Annie stands and nods. "I'll find him. Be right back."

As Jean and Connie help you towards the exit, you notice another firefighter waiting outside. He's short with an air of authority, and you recognize him immediately. "Levi! Hi!" you call out, waving with a grin.

Levi raises an eyebrow. "Long time no see Y/N, I heard you broke up with Miche."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Hired me, Levi. He hired me."

Levi's lips twitch into a rare grin, which seems to unsettle Jean and Connie. He pulls out his phone. "Let's take a picture. Miche needs to see this."

You pose with Levi, Jean, Connie, and Annie, who returns just in time with the businessman in tow. Levi snaps the photo and sends it off with a smirk.

"Alright," Levi says, turning to Annie. "Make sure this guy pays her extra for the trouble."

Annie nods, stepping up to the businessman who looks thoroughly uncomfortable. "You're gonna pay her extra compensation for what she went through," she says firmly.

The man gulps and nods hastily. "Of course, of course."

Once everything is settled, you're finally on your way to the hospital. As you're being wheeled out on a stretcher, Annie walks beside you. "You're quite the character, you know that?"

You grin up at her. "I try."

She pauses for a moment, then hands you a piece of paper. "Here's my number. Call me when you're feeling better. Maybe we can go out sometime?"

You take the paper, feeling a flutter of excitement despite the pain. "I'd like that, Annie."

As you're loaded into the ambulance, you watch her through the open doors. She's smiling, and you can't help but feel that maybe this night wasn't so bad after all.

Sasha Braus

The pulsing beat of the music vibrates through the walls of the club, an undercurrent of energy that makes the air feel alive. You're in your element, moving around the stage, eyes flickering to the various patrons who've come for the show. The night's been pretty standard—until now.

You've just finished a particularly energetic routine and stepped offstage to head toward the private rooms. You glance at your phone. Another client, another dollar. But the moment you open the door to the private room, you're confronted with something you never expected—a man holding a large boa constrictor.

You pause at the threshold, mouth slightly agape. "Is that...a snake?"

The man grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction. "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's not venomous."

You force a smile, even as your stomach churns. "Okay, let's just get this over with."

He gestures for you to come closer, but as you approach, the snake's head darts forward and its teeth sink into your ankle. You yelp in pain, instinctively pulling back. The man seems more surprised than concerned, which only adds to your irritation.

"Shit!" You scramble onto a nearby table, your ankle throbbing and blood trickling down. The snake, now agitated, turns its attention to the man who brought it. Before he can react, it's wrapped around his neck, squeezing.

Panicked, you grab your phone. "Hello? Emergency services? I'm at Angel's Paradise. A boa constrictor just bit me and now it's strangling some fucking idiot in a private room. Please hurry."

It feels like an eternity before you hear the telltale sounds of the fire department's sirens. You stay perched on the table, cradling your injured ankle, and trying to ignore the growing chaos in the room below.

Moments later, the door bursts open and a group of firefighters rushes in. You recognize some of them—Connie, Jean, and Eren are regulars at the club. But tonight, they're here in full gear, ready to save the day.

"Y/N!" Connie calls out, eyes scanning the room until he spots you on the table. "Are you okay?"

You manage a weak smile. "Another day, another fucking idiot. Seriously, who brings a snake to a strip club?"

Jean steps forward, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "Here, take this." He lifts you off the table with ease, and you quickly find yourself hiding behind him, the comfort of his presence grounding you.

Eren eyes the man struggling with the snake and smirks. "Should we, uh, help him?"

You peek out from behind Jean. "Can't we just let the guy get strangled? He wasted my time and now I'm bleeding."

A new voice cuts through the conversation. "I wish we could," Levi, the captain, says dryly as he enters the room. His eyes are sharp, taking in the situation with an air of disapproval. "But we're here to save lives, unfortunately."

Your attention is drawn to the new firefighter who steps forward to check on your ankle. She's got a friendly face, framed by brown hair and warm, empathetic eyes. "Hi, I'm Sasha. Let me see that bite."

You wince as she gently examines the wound. "Looks like it took a chunk out of you. We'll get you patched up."

Sasha's touch is gentle but sure, and despite the pain, you find yourself oddly comforted. She finishes bandaging your ankle and looks up at you with a smile. "You okay? Want something to eat? I've got some snacks in the truck."

Before you can respond, the snake suddenly lunges for you again. "Fuck no!" you shout, darting out of the room with surprising speed, even in your heels. The firefighters exchange impressed looks.

"Did you see how fast she ran?" Eren laughs.

Levi nods, impressed. "And in heels. Didn't even snap her ankle."

Sasha grins. "Did you see the way her boobs bounced? Damn."

Jean chuckles. "Why do you think we're regulars?"

Eren agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, she's the main attraction."

You're still wearing Jean's firefighter jacket as you limp back into the room, feeling slightly more composed. Sasha approaches you again, concern etched on her face. "Hey, you did great back there. Seriously. Are you sure you're okay?"

You nod, though the adrenaline is still coursing through your veins. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...what a night."

Sasha smiles, pulling a small card from her pocket and handing it to you. "Here's my number. In case you need anything. Or, you know, if you ever want to hang out."

You take the card, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thanks, Sasha. I might just do that."

Connie, overhearing, nudges Sasha with a grin. "So, you gonna join us next time we come here?"

Sasha laughs, shaking her head. "Only if Y/N is working."

Jean turns to Levi with a grin. "What about you, Captain? You gonna join us?"

Levi's expression is as stern as ever. "Piss off, Jean."

Historia Reiss

The bus ride starts off as any other ordinary day for you and your twin brother, Megumi. You're on your way home, chatting casually and occasionally glancing out the window. The bus is moderately full, a mix of commuters and students, some dozing off, others absorbed in their phones or conversations.

You and Megumi have always had a dark sense of humour, a coping mechanism that has seen you through tough times. But nothing could prepare you for the sudden, violent jolt that sends the bus careening off the road. The world spins, screams fill the air, and then everything goes black.

When you come to, you're disoriented and in pain. The bus has flipped, and you're trapped under what you quickly realize are the bodies of other passengers. The weight pressing down on you is immense, and the stench of blood and something worse fills your nostrils.

You shift slightly, wincing at the pain from a gash on your forehead and a cut running from your cheekbone across your nose. Megumi is next to you, his face smeared with blood from a cut on his cheek and one in his eyebrow. Despite the dire situation, your gallows humour kicks in.

"I think the guy that's on top of me eats for a living," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Megumi groans softly as he corrects you. "Ate for a living."

You can't help but chuckle, though it quickly turns into a wince of pain. "God, this guy fucking stinks. Not only is he squashing me, he smells too."

Megumi snorts, which sounds more like a pained wheeze. "Probably didn't bathe much. Figures our luck to get stuck under the smelly ones."

You manage a laugh, though it's more out of desperation than amusement. "Well, if I'm gonna die, at least I'm going out with a good story. 'Death by smelly fat guy.'"

The weight of the bodies pressing down on you and Megumi is almost unbearable. Your breaths come in short, painful gasps, each one a struggle against the crushing mass. The dark humour you and your brother share is your only lifeline, a fragile thread keeping you from succumbing to despair.

"You know," you manage to say between wheezing breaths, "I always thought I'd die in some dramatic, heroic way. Not suffocating under a pile of corpses."

Megumi, his face smeared with blood, chuckles weakly. "Yeah, like saving a kitten from a burning building or something. Instead, it's 'Crushed by Smelly McFatso and Friends.'"

"Holy shit, Megumi," you groan, shifting slightly to alleviate the pressure on your chest. "You have a way with words."

"Hey, it's a gift," he replies, his voice strained.

Minutes feel like hours, every second dragging as you fight for each breath. The sounds of chaos outside the bus filter through, but they feel distant, almost unreal. Sirens, shouted orders and the hiss of extinguishers are faint background noise compared to the oppressive reality of your situation.

"Think we'll make the evening news?" you wheeze, trying to keep your voice light.

Megumi manages a weak chuckle. "Maybe they'll call it 'Bus Tragedy: Two Survivors and a Smelly Fatso.'"

"Hey, give the guy some respect," you retort, grimacing in pain. "He's our ticket to fame."

Outside, the firefighters work frantically, pulling bodies from the wreckage. Their faces are grim as they navigate the twisted metal and shattered glass. Levi, the captain, directs the efforts with a steely gaze. He's seen a lot in his career, but the sheer devastation of this scene is heart-wrenching.

Jean hauls a body out, his expression hardening as he glances back into the bus. "How many more, Captain?"

Levi doesn't answer immediately, his attention caught by the faint sound of laughter coming from inside the wreckage. It's so out of place, so bizarre amidst the carnage, that it takes him a moment to process it.

"Do you hear that?" Connie asks, pausing beside Levi.

Levi nods, frowning. "Yeah, I hear it. Keep pulling bodies out. Do not judge them for laughing, they're probably in shock and trying to cope"

The team works with renewed urgency, driven by the faint but unmistakable sound of laughter. As they pull away more debris, the source becomes clearer. Two young adults, battered and bloodied, are trapped under a pile of bodies, holding hands and exchanging dark jokes to cope.

"If I don't make it, tell Mom I went out fighting Smelly McFatso," Megumi says, his voice a strained whisper.

"Megumi, Mom's dead," you remind him, managing a pained smile.

"Then tell her when you see her," he replies, coughing.

"Hey, maybe she's got a comfy spot saved for us," you retort, trying to keep the mood light as the firefighters work frantically around you. "Hopefully not next to our new friend, though."

"Oh God, please no," Megumi groans, wincing as another piece of debris is moved, relieving some of the pressure on his legs. "I'd rather haunt the bus station."

"You know," you say, wincing as a particularly heavy body is lifted off you, "if this is the afterlife, it seriously needs a redesign."

Megumi chuckles weakly, his voice strained. "Yeah, I was expecting more clouds and harps, fewer dead bodies and stink."

Levi, who's now close enough to hear you, shakes his head with a faint smile. "Just hold on a bit longer. We're almost there."

"Hey," Megumi gasps, "think we can get a refund on this bus ride?"

Levi doesn't miss a beat. "I'll see what I can do."

"If we get out of here, I'm leaving a review," You mutter. "Zero stars, do not recommend, may be crushed by corpses"

Megumi snorts, squeezing your hand as the firefighters work above you. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the last of the debris is lifted, and you and Megumi are gently pulled free. The fresh air hits you like a blessing, though it's tainted with the scent of smoke and blood. You take a deep breath, savouring the relief despite the pain.

As the rescuers help you to safety, a horde of news anchors and journalists surge towards you, shouting invasive questions. The chaos is overwhelming, their voices blending into a cacophony of noise. You and Megumi, dazed and in pain, try to shield your faces from the relentless flashes of cameras.

"Are you the only survivors?"

"How do you feel right now?"

"Can you describe what happened?"

You wince as a particularly aggressive reporter shoves a microphone into your face. "How does it feel to be covered in other people's blood?"

Before you can respond, another reporter grabs Megumi by the arm. "What were your last words to each other, thinking you were going to die?"

"Get the fuck off me!" Megumi snaps, trying to pull away, but the reporter's grip is firm.

Jean, Connie, and Levi quickly move to shield you both, pushing back the reporters. "Back off!" Jean yells, his face set in a hard line. "Give them some space!"

Connie places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you away from the chaos. "Let's get you to the medics," he says gently, his concern evident despite the tough exterior.

As you're led away, the rude comments continue to fly. "Those cuts are going to leave some nasty scars," one reporter sneers. "Real shame for such young faces."

Another reaches out, trying to grab you again, but Levi steps in, his expression thunderous. "I said back off!" His authoritative tone finally makes the crowd of journalists hesitate.

You and Megumi are ushered to a nearby ambulance where Historia and Eren are waiting with first aid kits. Historia's face is a mask of calm as she carefully cleans the gash on your forehead, her touch gentle but firm.

"These are going to leave scars," she says softly, meeting your eyes with a kind yet serious expression. "But they'll heal well with time."

Eren is working on Megumi, dabbing at the cut on his cheek and eyebrow with careful precision. "You'll look tough with these scars," he says. "Chicks dig scars, right?"

Megumi chuckles weakly. "Not exactly my demographic."

As Eren finishes, he gives Megumi a thoughtful look. "You know, once you're feeling better... would you like to go out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee?"

Megumi blinks, momentarily taken aback. "You're asking me out? Now?"

Eren shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "Life's short. Why not?"

Megumi laughs, the sound lighter than it's been since the crash. "Alright, why not? Coffee sounds good."

You watch the exchange with a faint smile, feeling a strange sense of normalcy returning. Historia finishes tending to your wounds and stands back, her eyes lingering on your face.

"You know," she begins, her tone slightly hesitant but hopeful, "I think you're incredibly brave. And I'd love to get to know you better. Maybe we could go out sometime, too?"

You're surprised but pleasantly so. "Are you asking for my number?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the pain.

"Yes, I am," Historia replies, her own smile warm and genuine. "What do you say?"

"I'd like that," you respond, feeling a spark of something hopeful and new amidst the chaos of the day.

I remember how she had to keep sawing pieces off herself because she wasn't what the media wanted the First Lady to be.

The First Lady, they said, teaches children to read, like Pickles did after her.

The First Lady promotes healthy eating and exercise, unless she's Michelle Obama, who was No Fun.

The First Lady bakes cookies.

Because, you look back at Hillary Rodham—Hillary Rodham is the reason I was allowed to get an education rather than expected to rot until I was old enough to be institutionalized.  Disabled people having the right to exist in schools.  That’s her baby.  And it was pretty radical when she came up with it, too.  So was universal healthcare, when she floated the idea and was told to sit down and shut up because First Ladies Don’t Do That.

Men really, really do not want to vote for a woman. I’ve seen this viewpoint branded as TERF rhetoric so lemme just say in advance that I’m non-binary. It is not TERF rhetoric to blame sexism for this loss, and I think we need to confront the ways in which, yes, sexism runs deep with U.S. men and we need MORE feminism, not less.

Trump did make some inroads among Black voters: 92% went for Biden in 2020. Way more Latino voters shifted, though: 66% voted for Biden in 2020. Asian voters also dropped from 63% in 2020. What on earth could account for the —

Support among white men dropped from 48% for Biden to 39% for Harris. Support among Black men ticked down very slightly but not much. The biggest change: Latino men went from supporting Biden by 59% in 2020 to 44% in 2024.