After some time just wallowing around in my own shame, guilt and uncertainty, I have emerged from the abyss with FICTION. XD

Really, though. I said screw it and wanted tow rite something for you guys tonight- you're one of the most uplifting, encouraging, positive, patient fandoms I've written for, and I love you guys.

I wanted to ease back into this, since I'm not really sure where I'm going with it, so I started out with what we all love- CRACK and pasta.

Enjoy my lovelies!

The timer ringing incessantly was the only thing that broke his concentration, and he glowered at the offending instrument, quickly turning it off.

With the skills of a well-trained surgeon, he donned his over mitts, pulling open the oven only to be met with steamy, glorious scent of freshly cooked pasta. Carefully, he placed his gloved hand inside the oven, withdrawing his culinary masterpiece and setting the casserole dish atop the stove and closing the oven door, scrutinizing the dish carefully.

It looked superb, Eren decided. Now- all that was left was to wait for it to cool down.

Still clad in oven mitts, he bent both knees at a ninety-degree angle, so he stood in an odd half-squat, bringing each over mitt up beside his head and pinching his mitted fingers and thumbs together repeatedly.

"I, the crab lord, have made ravioli!" he shouted at no one in particular.

It wasn't like anyone could hear him- the dining hall wouldn't be filled until half an hour later, anyways, and he'd decided to camp out here for special purposes.

Thoroughly bored of acting like a crackhead, Eren pulled off the over mitts and tossed them onto the nearby counter, looking down at the steaming casserole dish of ravioli yet again.

He wondered how good it tasted. He'd tried really hard to follow the recipe- he'd found it in one of Armin's books about outside the wall- it was from some country called... 'itali', or something like that- where pasta was worshiped as some sort of deity.

All he could imagine was some sort of massive heap of spaghetti that crawled through the streets, swallowing up evildoers and leaving a thin film of marinara trail behind as it cleansed the world of evil with it's sweet, sweet noodley justice.

He wondered if this 'itali' still existed out there somewhere, or if the titans had killed off the pasta people, as well.

Regardless, the ravioli was very important for tonight, and he watched it steam with a critical eye. There were three options for how tonight would go.

One- everyone hated ravioli. Two- everyone loved his ravioli. Or three- he gave everyone horrible, horrible food poisoning, and they all died before they could express just how horrible his ravioli was.

He was personally hoping for option two.

Besides- it was a special occasion, he couldn't mess this up.

Fifteen minutes had ticked by, and the casserole dish had gone from bubbling hot to casually steaming, the occasional tuft of steam curling upward.

He'd spent all week thinking of this, really, ever since Petra had insisted...

"No."

Petra frowned, puffing out her cheeks and staring at him, amber eyes burning with stubbornness.

"I'm sorry Captain, but it's happening whether you like it or not. The squad wants to do something special, so we've picked out a time already for this week. If you want to be the loser who doesn't show up to their own birthday party, then fine-" her golden eyes sparked slightly, narrowing.

"But we are a special operations squad. I hardly think we'd be unable to pull off a kidnapping."

Levi blinked. "You'd kidnap me just to force me to go to my own damn birthday party?"

"Not if you show up like a normal person." Petra said, grinning happily. "So it's set then?"

Levi sighed. "Whatever."

"Come on, Captain- it won't be that bad."

"No, but if shitty-glasses shows up and gets drunk again 'for science', it'll get messy."

"Actually- Commander Erwin overheard us talking and banned spirits after last year's...event... so, it's going to be a sobering birthday!"

Levi resisted the urge to smirk slightly at the pun. Maybe this year's birthday wouldn't be so bad after all.

Really, what better way to surprise the captain on his birthday than with food?

He left his cooling casserole dish in the kitchen, setting one of the long wooden tables in the dining room, pouring the milk and getting out the rolls and salad...

He heard people in the hallway and dashed back into the kitchen, wanting to make his surprise known in good time...

"That was a nice ride." Levi had to admit, it'd been a perfect day to go riding with the squad. It certainly was a treat to go out without having pressing drills of missions to complete. However, one key component had been missing, and he frowned, looking around the dining hall. The table was set, torches lit, everything set out, but still...

"Where's Jeager?" Levi felt the nagging in the pit of his stomach. Whenever the brat was out of his sight, he felt like disaster could be approaching...

"In here!" Eren chirped, ducking into the dining hall beaming. He was clad in his usual forest green shirt and white jeans, with his chocolate bands flopping into his eyes slightly. He was holding a casserole dish, clad in red oven mitts, and was beaming proudly as he strode over to the table, a navy blue apron that proudly read 'World's Okayest Cook' on it in black lettering.

He set the dish down on the table, looking up and beaming. "I made dinner."

"Eren!" Petra looked slightly shocked, before she was beaming. "I knew you said you'd take care of food, but I thought you'd order out. I wasn't expecting... this."

"I'm surprised the building isn't on fire." Gunther admitted, and Eld elbowed him roughly.

Auruo circled the table carefully, inspecting everything. "Looks good. But how do we know he didn't poison it?"

"I'm gonna eat it too. Why would I poison my own food?" Eren asked.

"Damn, this kid's good." Auruo muttered. "Alright- it looks safe..."

Levi was already sitting down, not really caring as they dished up the food and salad, chattering happily.

Eren waited with baited breath as everyone dug in, except for Auruo, who eyed Eren suspiciously. "Why aren't you eating, kid?"

"Give ti a rest, Auruo." Levi ordered, taking his first forkful of pasta. Everyone else followed suit.

"Mmm!" Petra beamed, looking up happily. "Eren, this is delicious! I didn't know you could cook."

Eren sighed, looking slightly relieved.

Gunther poked at his half-eatten ravioli, blinking.

"What's the filling in this?"

"Love." Eren looked at him, eyes non-blinking, for a solid thirty seconds.

"And cheese!" Hanji popped up from seemingly nowhere, looking excited. "I can't believe you made ravioli! What kind of cheese did you use!? Are the noodles homemade!?" she snatched up a plate, looking elated.

"Uh, yeah, I made it all from scratch. I'm glad you guys like it- I've never made it before, so I was hoping it'd turn out good..." Eren admitted, taking a small bite himself. It was quite good, and he grinned around his fork.

"This is the first time you made this?" Petra asked, looking shocked. "Eren- that's amazing!"

"It is pretty good." Gunther admitted, Eld nodding in agreement.

Auruo sighed. "Not bad, kid." he admitted.

For a good minute, the only sound in the room was forks on plates scraping up food, before Levi spoke.

"So, brat- why did you decide to make me ravioli for my birthday dinner? I've seen you cook chicken before, so why chose a totally new dish?" Levi asked, arching an eyebrow quizzically.

Eren shrugged. "Because it was named after you, Captain."

Levi blinked.

"That's your name, isn't it? Levi Ravioli." Eren beamed, proud of his own cleverness.

The table was dead silent for a good minute, as Gunther giggled and Eld kicked him under the table, causing the man to curse.

Eren kept eating like nothing was wrong, oblivious, and everyone wondered how to broach the subject before them carefully.

"Rivallie, Eren." she said quietly.

"Huh?" Eren looked up from his plate, pausing.

"The captain's last name... is Rivallie, Eren, not Raviloi."

Eren's cheeks colored, and his fork clattered onto his plate. "Fuck."

The whole table burst out laughing, and Eren's cheeks only flushed redder.

"Can't you read, kid?" Auruo asked around fits of laughter.

"Yes." Eren muttered, looking down at his feet.

"It's Rivallie, you idiot..." Auruo continued to howl with laughter, though most of the chuckling had died down. "It's french."

"Oh my god." Eren frowned. He'd thought Levi was a ravioli- he'd figured the Captain had distant roots in that 'Itali' place, but all he'd done was make pasta and look like an idiot in front of his superior officer...

"Don't take it too hard, Eren- reading is hard. Especially with all those vowels." Hanji spoke up, actually genuine. "With so many different dialects and vernacular, pronunciation is arbitrary..."

Still, Eren didn't look up.

"Oi."

Eren looked up at Levi like a kicked puppy, and the man frowned. "Regardless of what my last name is- you make a mean ravioli, kid. You'll have to make it again for us sometime."

Everyone muttered their agreement, and Eren brightened slightly as Levi reached over to ruffle the boy's hair.

Even though his clever birthday dinner for Levi hadn't gone quite to plan, it was still quite a success.

Please review! I love to hear;

1.) Your thoughts, pure emotion, whatever this chapter made you think/feel

2.) Your favorite part of the chapter/fav line

3.) Requests for future chapters, ideas, or head cannons you'd like to see play out. :)