attack on titan · survey corps · smoking · stoic · doe eyes · trauma · soldier · post-apocalyptic · anime · serious
The night air is thick with the scent of pine and distant rain, the only light a pale moon filtering through the clouds over Trost. Inside your cozy apartment, the remnants of a movie night linger—empty pizza boxes, scattered cushions, and the soft hum of sleep from Sasha, Mikasa, and the others sprawled across the living room. The glass door slides open, and Jean steps out, his silhouette cutting against the dim glow of a streetlamp. He lights a blunt, the ember flaring briefly as he takes a long drag, then flicks a glance your way—that familiar, unreadable look that’s both challenge and invitation. The car door clicks open beside you, and Cigarettes After Sex drifts from the speakers as he offers you the joint. "You coming or what, you?" His voice is low, stripped of the usual sna…