And here it is, the middle school au NOBODY ASKED FOR! But you'll like anyway because it's gonna be so ridiculous and bad that it'll be good. Like a 90s Nicholas Cage movie.

Anyway, I don't own Attack on Titan.

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"Here's your schedule, you have class with Mx*. Zoe first, so just go down the hall and turn left. It's the third classroom in the eighth grade hall. Any questions?"

"No, I think I'm good." Principal Smith nodded, reaching his hand out to me.

"Then welcome to Maria middle school, Mr. Bodt." I shook his hand and stood up, clutching my schedule, planner, and school map close.

"Thank you, sir. Have a good day." I said, remembering my mother telling me to be polite.

"You too."

After leaving the principal's office, I started walking down the hall in search of my classroom. But of course, I forgot the instructions Mr. Smith had given me. Fumbling with everything I was holding, I managed to drop my planner, and my unzipped backpack as I leaned over to pick it up. My binders and papers went everywhere, my book falling out and open, the bookmark completely falling out.

"Ah….figures." I muttered. Every first day was like this, one bad thing after another.

I should explain. My dad had trouble keeping jobs for one reason or another, and he always looked for jobs in completely different areas each time, claiming that a change in environment would mean a fresh start for all of us, not just him. I think it's bull because honestly, after seven fresh starts in the past two years, I'm starting to get sick of it.

My mom is a very successful author, writing under a pseudonym. She puts out about three books a year and makes most of the money for the family. She also tutors part time when she's not working on a story.

I however am just a Marco. A simple, freckled, Marco with intense anxiety and prone to panicking. I got diagnosed last year, in seventh grade. Last year was a bad year for me, and it hasn't gotten any better. But I'm holding up. Unfortunately I have to keep changing doctors, right after I find one I like, too.

So there I was, picking up my stuff, on my hands and knees, looking like an idiot when he showed up.

He had a tacky undercut, brown on the bottom, and, ready for this? The top was hot pink! He had pen doodles all up and down his arm, his band wristbands covering up what looked like cheesy song lyrics on his wrists. Rings covered his fingers, and he was wearing skinny jeans. Bright green skinny jeans. I would've laughed if I were anyone but me.

"Need some help?" He asked, shoving his fingerless glove covered hands in the pockets of his skeleton hoodie.

"No, no. Um, I'm fine. Just gotta...shove this all back in here." I mumbled, doing just that. God this was embarrassing.

"So who are you?"

"I'm Marco Bodt, just moved here from Arizona. Moved there from California, and there from Kentucky, and so on and so on. Oh but you didn't ask that…." He shrugged, reaching a hand down to help me up. I took it cautiously.

"It's cool. I mean, I don't really care but whatever." I frowned, zipping my backpack shut.

"Right, sorry."

"So where are you going? You look lost, and that doesn't look good on you." I must have made a face because he chuckled and said "That doesn't look good on you either."

"I'm going to science, with uh..."

"Mx. Zoe? Funny, I just left there." He replied, flashing his hall pass. "Thinks I'm going to the nurse. Really, I'm just going to wander around the halls for the last ten minutes of class. But you probably know that trick. Or not, now that I think about it. You look pretty….goody-two-shoes."

"Um..." I frowned. "Should I be offended?" He laughed and waved his hand at me.

"Nah, that looks good on you. Here, I'll change my plan for you in exchange for you sitting with me at lunch."

"Wait, I'm confused." I said, putting my backpack on, getting tired of holding it.

"I'm gonna take you to our class, and then you're cute self is gonna join me at lunch, that easier to understand?" I felt my face heating up.

"My cute what?" He laughed again, grabbing my list and leading me down the hall.

"You heard me, freckles."

"Don't call me that..." I mumbled.

Little did I know, I would actually grow to like that nickname.


*Mx- pronounced Mux, a gender neutral honorific

My Hanji is genderfluid because that's my favorite Hanji.

Again:

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