perksofbeingawaifu:

hey yall it’s been 50 million years. so i was looking through my old drafts (of which i have several) and found this nearly finished ficlet. it was based on this amazing and hilarious art by the very lovely and talented @magickitt . i can’t for the life of me remember why i quit writing it (maybe someone else wrote the same fic so i just dropped it?) but here it is very very late. enjoy!~

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Eren didn’t know when it started. One day he went to grab a pair of undies from the crumpled clean laundry basket and pulled them on only to find them too small. He shrugged and assumed they’d shrunk in the laundry. Then it happened again a few days later. And again the day after that!

“Armin, do I look like I’m gaining weight?” he asked, checking his gut in front of a mirror.

“You? No,” Armin laughed, turning his eyes back to his term paper.

“No you’re perfect,” Mikasa said flipping through a magazine.

“What about you Titan?” he asked the cat making figure eights between his legs. “Does Daddy look different to you? Hm? I gotta start working out more.”

And he did. He got up to run every morning just as his cranky neighbor from 2B left for work (no but seriously who works that early?). And every morning just as he saw the perfectly shined shoes step outside his door, Eren darted down the stairwell, content on avoiding him. He’d never met his neighbor and had no desire to. The man was quiet except for the times when he wasn’t. He would burst into short, clipped, rage-filled sentences that ranged from threats to his roommate, “I swear to fucking god if you don’t flush the toilet I will personally grind you up and flush you down to float with my shit!” to, “SHIT ON A STICK!” to the worrisome phone conversation of, “I will fucking butcher you!”

He could also hear his neighbors discussing chemical “particles” and “reactions.” He had no doubt his neighbor was involved in pharmaceuticals of the “Breaking Bad” variety. Eren vowed to keep his head down and mind his own business.

Or rather he tried, he really did try.

“Oh no,” he said holding up a pair of skivvies that were most certainly not his.

“Hanji I swear to fucking shit, where the fuck are they?” his neighbor echoed on the other side of the thin wall. “I’m down to my last pair, I’m washing it every single day, where are you hiding them?”

“Bad Titan!” Eren hissed at his cat.

Sure, he’d noticed Titan playing with something last night. And sure, yes, he’d noticed socks and undies stuffed into his slippers or in his backpack. And the nest under the bed. But today he found a pair placed lovingly on his bath mat. Once again they didn’t fit, despite all of his recent activity. He flipped the band to see a Men’s small on the waistband. He wore a medium. At first he thought maybe Mikasa had bought him another package of briefs and simply grabbed the wrong size. But now given the ruckus on the other end of the wall, a horrible chill raced its way down his spine.

“Please, please,” he begged as he rummaged through his drawer grabbing every pair he could find. He dug into his dirty laundry, then his clean laundry, the place between his bed and the wall, under the couch and between the cushions and even behind his television.

Finally he set lay them all out in his living room, like they were all artifacts from some archeology dig.

“Oh Titan, why do you hate me? Is it the discount catfood?” Eren asked as Titan waltzed through the display purring.

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