no mike smith because mike smith


Life is stressful and sometimes you can’t find happiness; so here’s a tendy and his defendy appreciation post.


(also on ao3)


It’s the third time the lady behind him has tutted in just as many minutes, and Levi is on his last thread of self control. He turns to her slowly.

“There’s no changing table in the men’s,” he grinds out.

She hums at him in distaste and Levi turns back around, his grip on Eren tightening a little.

It’s not like he wants to go in there. Listening to people pee as he changes a shitty diaper is not exactly his idea of a good time. Besides, public restrooms are gross, and the changing tables in them, he’s found, are not any better off.

He’s changed Eren on the sink before because the table was so disgusting. He got disapproving looks then, too, but they were as unwarranted as the ones he was getting from this lady. It’s not like anyone was eating off of the sink - some of the fuckers that gave him the stink eye didn’t even wash their damn hands - and he was closer to hot water and soap to clean up that way.

The woman sighs deeply and tuts again, and Levi is this close to decking her when someone else clears their throat and a deeper voice says

“Excuse me.”

Levi turns his head and looks up at a tall, blond man.

“Hello. I’m sorry for coming up to you out of the blue, but I couldn’t help but notice you are having some trouble,” he says, eyes flicking furtively to the lady behind Levi. “Might I offer you the use of our changing table?”

He gestures over to another, taller blond man who cradles a baby in one arm and lifts what looks like a laptop carrying bag towards Levi.

“That’s…a changing table?”

“It folds out.”

“I didn’t know they made those,” Levi says as he follows the man.

Levi is woefully unprepared for taking care of a kid. He’s just been using - and rebuying once he runs out - whatever Izzy and Farlan had.

“My name’s Erwin,” the man says once they’ve joined the other. “This is my partner, Mike, and this little fellow is our son, Armin.”

Armin makes a noise that is a cross between a sneeze and a hiccup, and Levi’s heart twinges because that is damn near the most painfully cute thing he’s ever heard. The most endearing thing Eren has done so far is a fart that sounded like a whistle.

“He says hi,” Mike translates and Levi’s mouth twitches briefly into a smile.

They go into the men’s bathroom, Levi giving the woman still waiting in line a surreptitious middle finger as they do, and Erwin unfolds the contraption - which is clean, thank fuck - on the far end of the sink.

“Need me one of these,” Levi marvels.

“Yes, they’re very handy.”

He takes a step back when he’s done and Levi comes forward.

“What’s his name?” Erwin asks as Levi begins to change Eren’s diaper.


“He must look a great deal like his mother.”

“Sort of,” Levi answers. “He’s kind of a combination, really.”

Erwin and Mike tilt their heads in consideration.

“I’m not the dad,” Levi says.

“Ah,” they both breathe.

“Are you babysitting?” Erwin asks.

“For another seventeen and a half years, yeah.”

“Oh…I’m so sorry.”

Levi shrugs. “I was planning on being the cool uncle, but I guess that went up in smoke.”

It’s a joke that’s in poor taste, but that’s how Levi deals with it. It’s a trait that’s pretty off putting, and probably why he doesn’t have any friends. He imagines these two are regretting helping him now, and will take their leave as quickly as they can.

“You’ll just have to practice your dad jokes instead,” Erwin says.

Levi looks up at him in surprise. “…I guess so.”

Levi’s done changing Eren at this point, so he lifts him in order for Erwin to take away and refold the changing table, and then puts Eren’s blanket down so he can begin wrapping Eren’s squirmy little ass back up. He starts by lifting the left end of the blanket, pauses, rethinks it, lifts the right end, and pauses again.

“Hey,” Mike says, “give me your phone.”

Levi raises an eyebrow at him.

“No offense, but you look like you don’t know what you’re doing.”


“What? Like you don’t agree.”

“You could have said it more kindly.”

“It’s fine. I am clueless.”

Mike gives Erwin a triumphant smile and takes the phone that Levi hands him, tapping a number in quickly before handing it back.

“So, you want a demonstration?” Mike asks then, nodding at Eren.

“Yes or I’ll be here all day,” Levi sighs.

Mike hands Armin off to Erwin and stands next to Levi.

“The key is to pretend you’re making a burrito. You don’t want the good bits spilling out.”

Levi snorts and Erwin sighs.

“What have I told you about comparing children to food?”

“That I need to stop because it makes you weirdly and unexplainably hungry?”

Levi snorts again. “You guys are nuts.”

“Don’t mention those or he’ll want pad thai.”

“They do have a Thai restaurant in the food court…” Erwin muses.

“Told you.”

“Give me more baby tips and it’s my treat,” Levi says. These guys are nuts, but knowledgeable. Mike already has Eren swaddled, and Levi swears it was by magic.

“Come,” Erwin says, hand on Levi’s shoulder, “we have much to discuss.”

I am sick of writing this poem
but bring the boy. his new name
his same old body. ordinary, black
dead thing. bring him & we will mourn
until we forget what we are mourning
& isn’t that what being black is about?
not the joy of it, but the feeling
you get when you are looking
at your child, turn your head,
then, poof, no more child.
that feeling. that’s black.
think: once, a white girl
was kidnapped & that’s the Trojan war.
later, up the block, Troy got shot
& that was Tuesday. are we not worthy
of a city of ash? of 1000 ships
launched because we are missed?
always, something deserves to be burned.
it’s never the right thing now a days.
I demand a war to bring the dead boy back
no matter what his name is this time.
I at least demand a song. a song will do just fine.
look at what the lord has made.
above Missouri, sweet smoke.
—  Danez Smith, “not an elegy for Mike Brown”

Imagine Mike sniffing him and then being like:

“Captain, have you been drinking lately?”

“No. Why?”

“Because you smell like jaeger.”

Then Mike smirks and Levi starts to leave the fucking room because “Fuck you, shitty mutt”

And Hanji and Erwin are snickering in the background but Erwin’s trying to be polite by saying “I could get you rehab for your Jaeger addiction, if you want.”

And Levi just throws a paper weight at him.


(also on ao3)


Erwin should have seen this coming, but hindsight, as they say, is twenty-twenty.

The plan was: the more decorated officers he brought, the more admirable the Survey Corps would seem, and the more funding they would potentially get from the nobility. Of course the plan didn’t work if all of his most decorated officers were either too anti-social or too in-your-face.

Mike had planted himself by the food table, and had spent the entire time eating and drinking, nose steadily getter redder. Granted, he didn’t get any more talkative, but at least he managed to look stoic and respectable.

Levi and Hange, on the other hand, were wreaking havoc. Levi was sneering at everyone within a ten yard radius, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes whenever someone got any closer than that. Hange was trying to regale people with their titan research and theories, which, while Erwin found them fascinating and informative, most of the nobles did not. They hid their expressions of distaste behind fans and wine glasses and made excuses to escape before too long, faces contorted into barely contained fear when Hange followed them, eyes alight with a near savage fervor.

He should have brought Moblit or Nanaba. While not as highly ranked, they would have behaved, or at least helped Erwin to keep Levi and Hange in line. Hell, he should have brought Eren. His titan-shifting abilities could be considered terrifying, yes, but these people might have seen him as an exotic pet. Something to gawk at and be impressed by. There certainly would have been less probability of someone getting bit by him than by Levi, who looked like he would gladly tear everyone’s throat out.

Erwin sighed for what seemed like the millionth time. He might be able to salvage the night if he could manage to explain Hange’s experiments in a more gentle manner, and get Levi to stop murdering people with his eyes - though any attempt to reprimand him so far had just made everything worse.

“Quite the colorful chain of command you have, Erwin.”

“Dot,” Erwin greeted the older man as he came up and stood next to Erwin. “How are you this evening?”

“A fair deal better than you, I would expect.”

“I’m having a great time,” Erwin said sarcastically.

Pixis chuckled. “Perhaps I can be of service?”

“How so?”

He smiled at Erwin and made his way toward Hange, bowing and extending his hand when he got to them. Hange let out a gleeful cackle and took his hand, and Pixis led them to the center of the dance floor. They were surprisingly graceful - Erwin was not aware that Hange knew how to dance - even if they continued to talk the entire time. Pixis listened with a patient smile, commenting here and there, which made Hange laugh before continuing with even more enthusiasm.

Erwin sighed again, but this time in relief. That was one problem solved. Now if he could just get Levi to–

Oh no. Erwin’s eyes roved around. Where had Levi gone? He got his answer moments later when he spied Levi on the opposite end of the ballroom. With Mike. Levi was licking his lips as he dragged the taller man - who looked more than thrilled by this turn of events - by the belt of his pants away from the refreshments table and out of the room. Well, it seemed that problem was on it’s way to solving itself. Erwin just hoped they would make their way to somewhere secluded before going at each other.

The only thing left was crowd control.

“Did you hear some of the things they were spouting?” a woman from a group of people to his left tittered from behind her hand.

That seemed like a good place to start. He was about to casually slide into the conversation when another person from the group spoke first.

“It’s not a farfetched idea if you think about it,” another woman stated.


“Yes. If you consider…”

Oh? That was interesting. Despite their initial aversion, it seemed Hange’s aggressive ramblings had gotten through to them after all. Maybe all he had to explain away was Levi’s abhorrent attitude.

“He seemed a bit prickly,” a man from a different group commented.

“And who wouldn’t be after all those life-endangering expeditions?” someone asked.

“Besides,” a third man piped up, “if he’s that intimidating on the battlefield, I imagine humanity could conquer the titans yet.”

Another surprise. Erwin’s chest swelled with hope. Perhaps the evening would turn out as well as he predicted, after all.

anonymous asked:

What are drunk Levi, Mike and Erwin like?

Isayama himself said that Levi’s alcohol tolerance is incredibly high, so it probably takes something like Bacardi 151 or some other incredibly strong drink to get him drunk. Even then, he is probably the most composed drunk to ever exist. Although his cheeks would be flushed and his speech would be a little impaired, Levi is still cognizant enough to understand what’s going on and where he is. The times where he gets drunk are so few and between, so it’s safe to assume Levi is generally the D&D if he ever goes out for drinks.

Mike is probably a lot more sensitive to the scent of alcohol, so he probably tries to stay away from the heavy liquors. That being said, he probably loosens up a lot more and becomes actively involved in the conversation he’s in once he’s had a few too many drinks. People are pretty shocked because they can’t ever recall Mike speaking this much, but it’s a pretty pleasant surprise. He doesn’t get sick or anything, but alcohol would definitely make him tired after a while and all he wants to do is go home and rest.

I feel like Erwin is pretty watchful and mindful of his alcohol and his own limits, but there are times when he overestimates just how much he can handle. I see him like a nice brandy or something along those lines and, if he were having a party with friends, sometimes he’d accidentally go overboard. The usually composed and suave Erwin is tongue-tied in his own alcoholic fog, which frustrates him because he knows what he’s trying to say but the words aren’t coming out right. He isn’t sloppy or anything, but he might be a little more bold and suggestive versus how he normally is.

i’ve told quite a few people this fic was coming, so here it is. special thanks to my beta/girlfriend @danchou-chan, and to @partydanchou and @birbwin for listening to me whine about this thing for months. Read it on AO3

It was never truly his, the life he was born into. He’d known it from childhood, born with memories of monsters, of a war with no end. Erwin Smith was born with the memories of cable wires shooting out with the pull of a trigger, sending an army through the air, of blades and blood that evaporates, of blood that stays. He was born with the memories of a man who had lived two decades before he saw the sun, of fierce gray eyes and a sharp tongue, a man who was small and beautiful and meant to fly. His little bird. He was born with the memories of a broken promise and the knowledge that he is meant to find this man, this little bird, a knowledge that he keeps private, learning early on that others will not take kindly to these strange memories. A vivid imagination in childhood turns into a concerning quirk verging on madness as an adult and he quiets himself. His bird is in his dreams, in the shadows in his waking life, waiting. This life was never truly his, but he will live it if only so that he can prove to himself that this man exists, that somewhere he is looking for him too.

This is the first time, and perhaps it is due to his own naivety that he accepts without question the idea that he is fated to live again, to spend his life dedicated to a man he has yet to meet– maybe never will meet. He does not question the absurdity of it all, the guilt that consumes him for deaths he, now, has never seen, the desperate need for the man in his dreams, the name he finds himself whispering like a prayer as he lies in bed at night, eyes fixed towards the heavens: Levi, Levi, Levi. He questions nothing, fixated, obsessed, but somewhere someone was waiting for him, and in the end it’s all that matters.

Levi, Levi, Levi.

It happens at last during the winter of 1901, and Erwin is on the train, alone with a first class ticket in a quiet, comfortable car, off to visit a friend of the family (by obligation rather than by his own desire, but he’s resolved to be nothing but pleasant– he always is, when he can help it, after all). He is reading the paper when a silent stranger shuffles in, sliding into the seat directly across, a simple bag tossed beside him. Queen Victoria is dead. The stranger lights a cigarette, slumps against the window with a sigh. At half a glance it’s a man, a boy perhaps, small and dark and unremarkable in every way save for his stature and his unusually sharp angles. He is drowning in worn and ill fitting but well-kept clothes. It’s a wonder what a man like that is doing in a first class car. Erwin has no intention to gaze fully but there’s a nagging at his chest, a flash from a dream, from a memory, a whisper. A name. Blue eyes flicker up, the train is moving– he meets half-lidded gray, head against a curled fist, cigarette dangling between thin lips. Gray eyes meet his, cool impassivity turning to shock, head lifting. The cigarette is crushed against the sill of the window by a slow, hesitant hand.

And then there’s a weight against his chest, coming at him so fast it knocks him back into his seat and he almost forgets to wind his arms around the smaller body, to cradle him like something precious, something sacred. There’s a muffled choked out sob, “Oh fuck,” into Erwin’s shirt, drenched in relief, and Erwin wonders how long Levi’s gone thinking he was simply insane. He’s beautiful, he always has been but especially now, real and whole and his, and Erwin thanks every god he can think of for this second chance– for that’s what this must be, a blessing, a way to make amends for the lives he’s taken, the men and women and children he once sent off to die. A miracle.

“Levi… Levi.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can I have a scenario where The vets play with their s/o's hair

Erwin: He does it all the time to be honest, he really loves running his fingers through his s/o’s curls if they had any. Even if his s/o had short hair he would still do it. He probably started doing it while they were newly dating and it turned into an unconscious habit. It’s quite calming for him actually, I imagine it puts him at ease pretty fast. It might even replace a bad habit like smoking or drinking.

Levi: He only does it after his s/o is freshly showered, their hair is so soft and silky after they bathe. He loves the floral smell and fresh feeling, it is also very therapeutic to him. He couldn’t tell you why though, something about running his fingers through their hair and forgetting the world around him is just how it is.

Mike: He is more likely to smell his s/o’s hair then mess with it, He can tell what kind of soap they used and how long they soaked their hair too. He might twirl a few locks around his fingers while he’s reading a book or something leisurely like that. 

Hanji: Oh my gosh she never leaves her s/o’s hair alone! She’s always playing with it and braiding it. It gets annoying for her s/o but they don’t complain because it makes Hanji so happy. Hanji might even try to style it if her s/o would let her. Although that might not be the best idea since Hanji’s sense of style is much different then other peoples.


Have an AU where Erwin, Levi, Eren, and Armin are in a polyamourous relationship.

And they’re in a club and Hanji makes a comment about how it looks like Erwin gets hella bitches because Eren is under his left arm with a strawberry daiquiri , Armin is under his right with a fruity cocktail, and Levi is just in his lap relaxing with a bloody mary.

And the three just look up and simultaneously say. “Big Daddy.”

Mike just let’s out the world’s worst concealed snort and Erwin chokes on his vodka.

Then the rest of the night they just keep the joke running.

Armin: Daddy~ I want another cocktail.♡

Levi: Yeah, Big Daddy. Buy us some drinks.♤

Eren: Be a good sugar Daddy and get me some nachos?~☆

And the people at the club are just like “Lucky Bastard” when in all honesty Erwin just wants the earth to swallow him whole.

Then Erwin offers to take them to Six Flags if they would just stop, and they agree because they’re all really just grown ass fucking children…

Farewell to Commander Erwin Smith. This post is a farewell to Survey Corps’ Commander, who died bravely in latest operation where he put Companies’ lives in game to Levi could kill Zeke. Erwin Smith was Survey Corps’ Simbol. Simbol of freedom, simbol of fight, simbol of courage, simbol of survival, simbol of loyalty, simbol of release. He urged the Legion to the top, risking the lives of their peers to achieve their goal. A lot of people have critiziced him to bring their companies to their deaths to get his desire: goes to the basement and know the truth. And yes, this is selfish but he wants know World’s Secrets, like everyone in Survey Corps. Everything he has done has relapsed him on his shoulders. All deaths of his colleagues and friends have befallen him, taking them always with you and tormenting him every day of his life, which did not achieve happiness even for a moment. Along with the deaths, the decisions that took place and that caused their deaths. Despite this, Erwin never gave up or hesitate in his post as commander. He faltered at the end, but Levi made to carry out his final plan, and even if it were horrible and unreasonable, was the only one who died with pride aside fear, because it was the first to sacrifice his life to save humanity, taking with him to his colleagues. Erwin knew he was going to die and no doubt twice to lead his group to death that will provide success to humanity. He was so tired, and each day he remembered all friends who fallen in battle, like Nanaba, Mike and more and more and more people. He was so sad at the end because he knew that his death was near and he never could know what had been in the basement. He never could get his father’s desire at the end. He was so depressed because he never cried for his companies because ‘there isn’t time to cry by our companies’. I think someone said that or I read it in some place. He is hated by many people because he took the entire Legion to death just to reach his dream, but there are still more people who love him because all the sacrifices he has shown that, despite this, all his companions have been loyal and they have continued to the end, even if it meant death. Erwin has made it into the hearts of the soldiers with their deeds and words, giving them the courage to fight until the end, winning the freedom and liberation of this cruel world. Always he encouraged his great speeches making them see how important were for humanity. He loaded with all the lives of his comrades on his shoulders. Thanks to this, in addition to his dream, he was able to continue to avenge his comrades reaching the success of humanity and this be able to make sense of their deaths, because although they die, their will will live for generations. He has had to put aside their own humanity and become a monster to lead the Legion without flinching. It has never been in such a cruel world happy. The nice thing only has seen has been the friendship and ties that can build people fighting for the same purpose. Unfortunately, it has also seen how these ties have been cut over and over and over again. He was a wonderful character in this story and died like a hero. Saying 'thank you’ for everything to his friend, because he knew he was going to die and he was going to rest in peace. Levi realized that when he stared at him at the end. Levi wanted that Erwin will rest in peace, yet, because he couldn’t sopport more deaths about his shoulders if he’ll live. He has become in a legend and a legend never dies. This is our latest goodbye to you, Commander. Goodbye, Commander Erwin Smith. You’ll always be remember.

Originally posted by mangastream

no but imagine if erwin decided that to gain money for the survey corps they made a calendar like fireman style theyre all half naked doing suggestive things youve got erwin shirtless riding a horse and mike is wearing noting but his white pant and 3DMG lifting weights and then you have levi in uniform wet and bent of ver a carriage he’s washing by the end of the week all the noble men feel very uncomfortable and all their wives have at least two copies in the house

SNK Characters ; Hetalia Quotes

Anon:  Snk characters as hetalia quotes?

Eren Jaeger:  Let’s hit him violently and get what we can out of him.

Mikasa Ackerman:  We shall see.

Armin Arlert:  Well, I’m going to leave the room!


Marco Bodt: You’re the best gay friend I’ve ever had!

Annie Leonhardt:  I’m only allowed to hear my thoughts and those are the ones I like.

Reiner Braun:

Bertholdt Hoover: I hide dark secret no one will guess because of my sweet face.


Krista Lenz/Historia Reiss: Ahhhhhh! I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything just please don’t hit me!

Sasha Blouse: Dude! Christmas rocks! We know how to do it right, here! First, we X out the ‘Christ’ part to make it extreme! Then we shop and eat stuff ’til we’re sick! Wanna shovel down some X-Mas cake to get in the spirit?

Connie Springer:  Ha ha ha. No need to argue, ‘cause I’m right!

Erwin Smith: Your women terrify me~

Levi Ackerman:  I know my ideas are best because otherwise I kill them.

Hanji Zoe: When I look into all of your stupid faces, I think how fun it will be to pound them into dust.

Mike Zacharias: Is it norm to drink a barrel of beer and then bust on somebody’s head~?

The Smiths: A Very, Very Short Introduction

Here’s a quick rundown of who exactly The Smiths are, in case you were wondering:

The Smiths formed in Manchester in autumn 1982, and had broken up by September 1987. In those five years, they released four studio albums and became one of the most influential “indie rock” bands of all time. (Decide for yourself if that’s too much of an exaggeration.) They were signed to Rough Trade, and have pretty much achieved cult icon status over the past 30-odd years.  


  • Morrissey (second left): I don’t really know how to describe Morrissey. Morrissey just is. He’s a national icon of sorts (he was voted second greatest living Briton in this poll by the BBC Culture Show), famous for being poetic, outspoken, and waving flowers around while he performs. He was the singer and lyricist for the band, and went on to have an extremely successful solo career (which Kimberley Huston covered brilliantly on this blog, so I won’t go on too much about him)
  • Johnny Marr (far right): my favourite Smith, and the love of my life. I’m only slightly kidding. He’s the genius behind that famed jangly Smiths sound, wrote the music for all their songs, and is revered pretty much everywhere as a guitar god. After The Smiths, he was involved with musical projects in pretty much every genre imaginable, and has released 2 solo albums since 2013.
  • Andy Rourke (far left): bassist extraordinaire. People tend to forget him (and Mike) because of the supernova that is Morrissey/Marr, but Andy and Mike really were working magic on the rhythm section of the band. Since the breakup he’s gone on to play with a bunch of other musicians, as well as playing bass on a couple of solo Morrissey singles.
  • Mike Joyce (second right): played the drums incredibly. Like Andy Rourke, he went on the play with other musicians after The Smiths broke up. There’s some bad blood between Mike and Morrissey/Marr (if you take ‘some’ to mean ‘million-pound royalties lawsuit’), perhaps more so than between them and Andy. Mike’s 25% is legendary. If you want all the gory details of the royalties disputes, Wikipedia is your best friend.
  • Craig Gannon (genius points for guessing that he’s not pictured): replaced Andy as bass player for 2 weeks in 1986 (after Morrissey kicked him out over his heroin addiction), and after that stayed on to play rhythm guitar until October ’86. He’s usually known as the Fifth Smith, and he now works as a composer for television and film soundtracks.

This is the briefest possible description, and there’s a hell of a lot more to say about these people (I’m serious, people have written academic studies on Morrissey), but this should be enough to get you started.