jean kirschtein icons

the plural of jean is jeans

20 icons from the anime all of the crowning prince of being a dumb butt cutie pie aka Jean Kirstein below cut

  • REBLOG if using so the icons dont stray far from their home home of jeancest

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72 Jean Kirschtein Icons

These icons are taken primarily from fanarts, although there are a few from the manga. Included among these icons are some shippy ones: Sasha and Marco specifically. I’ll be adding more icons in the future; they’ll be linked back to this post for reference. You’re welcome to use any and all of them. Credit is not necessary, although I ask that you like/reblog so that I know you’ll be using them. Thank you!

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Jean Kirschtein. Mikasa Ackerman.

Letters and Lullabies. Canonverse. 

392 words. 

In a moment where the soldiers are left to their own devices, Mikasa looks across the table to see Jean Kirschtein with a letter in his hands. His eyes are engrossed in the writing on the paper, and there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

It’s hard to not notice his voice, even if he’s singing underneath his breath.

Whatever he’s reading, it’s clearly something pleasant. It’s causing him to grin and mumble a song as quietly as possible.

The song interests Mikasa. She can’t understand it, and that only makes it even more intriguing to her. She starts staring at Jean more intently, trying to comprehend his quiet mumbles.

For a moment, Jean breaks his eyes away from his letter and looks to his squadmate. He looks apologetic once he realizes she’s been staring at him and silences himself.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?”

Mikasa is quick to shake her head, “No. It’s… what are you humming? Or singing? What is that?”

“A lullaby,” Jean answers. “My mom used to sing it to me when I was a kid.” He holds up the letter in his hand, “She just mentioned it now. Forgot what it sounded like for a second.”

Mikasa gives him a stern nod. She goes silent again, looking down at the wooden table standing between them.

“You ever sing at all?” Jean asks.

“No,” Mikasa responds. Her words are quick to leave her mouth, “But my dad… my dad used to though. He had a good voice. He used to sing to me when I was little, whenever I was sick or sad.”

Mikasa remembers her father’s singing.

She could remember getting the flu when she was six and spending days in bed. Every night, after her father tucked her in, he would sing a lullaby to her that was similar to the one Jean was singing now.

Her father sang the song to her after saying that it would make her feel better, that it was make her sleep more peacefully and get rid of her flu more quickly.

That’s why Jean’s song stuck out to her. There was a chance that it was the same lullaby her father had sung to her years ago.

“But you don’t sing?” Jean brings up.

Mikasa shakes her head, “Not a chance. No. Not anymore. Never.”