Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. But its so hard when the world i— shut up! Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future. Don't borrow grief from the future.
I’ve been facing art theft pretty frequently on Tumblr, so I wasn’t sure whether to post this comic here or not, but people have been very nice and asked for an English translation. Thank you for your interest and support, I hope you will enjoy the comic.
Bertholdt and Reiner reviewing products for post-apocalyptic survival
Reiner: We want to make a video about all apocalyptic weapons that you can buy on the internet for all you sinners that are going to stay here.
Bertholdt: Yeah, everyone's going to need to learn how to fight because I'm getting taken.
Reiner: Hopefully, I mean, we're already halfway there. Look at our shirts being ripped off by nature. *shows off his low-cut, skin-tight shirt with his protruding pecs and then gestures at Bertholdt's crop top*
Bertholdt: Not taken like THAT taken, Reiner...
Reiner: *laughs* Have you ever seen the movie "Left Behind" where all their clothes are left behind but they go up?
Bertholdt: *facepalms and tries not to laugh*
Reiner: So hear me out. We can build our own apocalyptic bat. Now Bertholdt, I know what you're thinking, "Reiner, I want that 18-inch fatty right now."
Bertholdt: *coughs and chokes on the water he was just sipping on before covering his face and blushing* Reeeeeeeinerrrr...
Hey Terra! I have another drabble request: number 40, pleease (and thank you) 🩷
Drunk Drabbles
40: “The kids, they ambushed me.”
For Alice and Brandon @ranger-danger-hoover
A Snack on Titan II
Characters: Reiner x Bertolto, Gabi, Falco and those other Marleyan Brats
Word Count: 859 words
Fluff & parody
The air was abuzz with activity as people swarmed down the central boulevard, clutching overfilled food cartons and packets. There were so many bodies pressed in between the market stalls that it was almost impossible to squeeze past them. Amongst the chatter of customers came the continuous sizzle of freshly fried foods. Every stand was crowded with dizzying sights: giant wheels of cheese which wafted a bitter tang; freshly baked loaves, some loaded with olives, others topped with cheese; pyramids of pickled delights; proud displays of sliced, cooked meat and cured sausages. All around was the smell of fragrant curry sauce accompanied by the salty scent of the fish stall which bore its tanks of wriggling crustaceans. Upon others mouth-watering arrangements of baked goods were laden: large, flat cookies, thick slabs of moist chocolate brownie, curls of pastries dusted in pistachio crumbs.
Reiner stepped back from one of the food stalls and, turning, passed two packets of golden halloumi fries to Bertolt.
“Is this the one with the tzatziki?” Bertolt glanced down into the first paper bag. “You know I can’t handle heat.”
“Yeah, the other one has the chilli sauce…” Reiner was fumbling for his wallet. The man who was tending the stall held up his hand to halt the customers crowding behind them. Bertolt watched, holding the steaming bags, whilst Reiner peered through the wallet’s folds.
“Is everything alright Rei?”
“I thought I had a twenty…” Reiner muttered under his breath, his shoulders stiffened. Bertolt glanced around him helplessly.
“I only brought my card but I don’t think they’ll take it here!”
“No. No,” Reiner assured him firmly, giving Bertolt’s arm a squeeze. “You always pay. It’s my turn.”
“What’s the hold up?” The stall owner was leaning aggressively over the countertop. Reiner lowered his hand and uttered a sigh of defeat.
“I’m not paying for the fries and neither is he. We have no money.”
“‘Scuse me?”
“I had cash on me but it was the kids… they ambushed me.” At this, Reiner gestured towards the lower end of the street. Just visible between the movements of people’s elbows and the swing of tote bags was Gabi and her three friends. The group were speaking animatedly as they pored over small, brightly-coloured cardboard boxes. Gabi extracted a sugared doughnut from her own and bit fiercely into it, sending a splodge of cream down her blouse.
“Why are you telling him Reiner?” Cold beads of sweat were beginning to break out upon Bertolt’s forehead. His head snapped between the group of children and the stall owner. Bertolt’s voice climbed higher with insistence as he sought wildly for some form of explanation.
“Please, he’s just tired!”
Beside him, Reiner rubbed his face with his palm.
“Sorry… what the hell was I thinking? Have I really gone crazy…?” Reiner chuckled to himself, causing Bertolt to cry out in alarm. The stall proprietor was shaking his head as he reached for his heaviest kitchen implement.
“No… it’s just that I’ve been stuck in this place for too long,” Reiner concluded. Bertolt was no longer convinced that he was the one being spoken to, but decided against pressing the point. Reiner’s features seemed to relax for an instant as he glanced back over at Gabi and the others. His cousin had slumped down upon the floor, her hands clutching her stomach whilst Falco lowered his head in embarrassment. “Don’t blame them. They’re just kids, they don’t know anything.”
“Reiner-” Bertolt reached for his shoulder as Reiner walked past. The pack of customers who had been circling the stall surged forward to fill the space he had vacated.
“Some would say that I need to face the consequences of my actions,” Reiner announced heavily. He did not turn his head.
Bertolt almost lost his grip on the packets of fries. He could feel sweat clinging to his nose as it trickled down from his temple. His eyes roved the scene, taking note of the constraints of the narrow alleyways, the close positioning of the stalls, the flocks of people filing into every conceivable gap.
“Reiner… are we doing it now? Right here?”
“We’re settling this right now,” Reiner replied. Too late, the stall owner rushed around his stand, brandishing a metal ladle and hollering a warning at the armed soldiers stationed nearby.
Bertolt hugged the bags of halloumi and hurtled away from the stall. Just ahead of where he was positioned, Reiner fell into a low crouch with his left leg extended. Then, using it as a spring, he propelled himself forward…
…Gabi was sitting propped against a grey swing bin, her legs trailed out in front of her. She shifted her head against the plastic and let out a loud belch.
“I wish we could have festivals everyday!” she sighed blissfully. Falco, who had been licking the sugar granules from his hand, jolted at a sudden commotion. His head jerked up, eyes following the movement of people to their left.
“Gabi, your cousin and his boyfriend are running away.” Gabi craned her neck around to see.
“...and now we have no money for the train ride home,” he added bitterly.
...
2 drinks down! Anyone else fancy a spin on the ol' Drunk Drabbles wheel? 👈 Send me a number and you could get lucky! Unless my faculties to read and spell start you - you know 📉
“Anyone want to tell me what we’re planning on doing with this?” Levi nudged Bertholdt’s steaming thigh stump with his boot, then cringed when splatters of blood soiled the leather.
What if there had been no titan serum in Shiganshina? What if, against all odds, Bertholdt had survived the battle and was taken prisoner by the Scouts?
This is the first chapter in my new fic Where It Hurts which I've been toiling over for the last couple of months. I'm so excited to start sharing it and it would really mean the world for me if you gave it a read ❤️
Hi is it possible for you to write platonic reihisu and beruyumi. Some ideas about how Reibert and Yumikuri would go on a double date thanks to their platonic friendship.
absolutely :)
Love's Just a Game
ReiBert. YumiKuri. Modern AU.
Platonic!ReiHisu. Platonic!BeruYumi.
5015 words.
Read on AO3!
When Reiner walks into the tea parlor, Historia is waiting for him at a table. She’s already ordered the perfect spread for today’s afternoon tea: Darjeeling tea in pink porcelain teacups, smoked salmon sandwiches, English scones stuffed with clotted cream and strawberry jam, and a plethora of freshly baked pastries. Historia looks like the picture of perfection sitting there in her smart periwinkle ensemble made of a fitted blazer and a peplum skirt. Her hair is done up in a neat French twist, not a single hair out of place. She smiles when she sees Reiner walking towards her, raising her hand to give him a princess wave. He scowls back at her in lieu of a greeting.
Reiner takes a seat across from Historia, slouching in his seat instead of trying to keep up with appearances. He’s not dressed as a slob, of course. He’s in his salmon button down, a few buttons tastefully undone, and pressed, white trousers, but it’s hard competing with someone who resembles an actual Disney princess.
“Aw, Reiner, why the long face?” Historia asks. She lifts her cup to her mouth, but it does little to hide the smug smile on her lips. After setting her cup back on a saucer, she delicately pats her mouth with the cloth napkin on her lap. She’s somehow mastered the technique of wiping her mouth without smudging her lipstick.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know why, Reiss,” Reiner says, his voice gruff. His eyes scan past the colorful plates of food presented to them on the table. Normally, he would scarf them down easily and have a cordial conversation with Historia, but the time for congeniality is over. His eyes narrow as he looks at Historia, gaze fixed on the golden spectacles dangling from Historia’s neck. “I see you have your bragging glasses out.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never do anything so vulgar,” Historia replies, but her smirk says she knows exactly what Reiner’s talking about. As if to irritate him further, Historia lifts the glasses from around her neck and balances them on her nose before taking out a notebook and flipping it open to where it’s bookmarked. “Would you like to see this week’s tally?”
“I don’t need to see this week’s tally,” Reiner replies. He has a similar notebook back in his apartment that tracks the same thing. He knows exactly what Historia is talking about, but even thinking about the latest tally fills him with embarrassment. “Your lead is only temporary, so enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Are you sure about it? I’ve been in the lead for quite some time, but it’s nice that you’re not discouraged,” Historia says. She turns the notebook over so that Reiner can read the page.
Reiner doesn’t want to read the page, but it’s hard not to miss the words written in perfect cursive on top of the page: Best Girlfriend/Boyfriend Ever. Underneath the title, there are two columns. One column has Historia’s name while the other column has Reiner’s name on top. There are tallies underneath both of their names, but Historia’s tallies outnumber Reiner’s by at least three. He scowls at the sight of it just as he has scowled at it every night before bed when reading his own notebook.
“Do you want me to throw you a party or something?” Reiner sniffs.
“Not at all, but maybe you could try arranging better dates. I bet Bertholdt would also appreciate our double dates more if his boyfriend didn’t plan hikes that involved everyone getting stung by wasps,” Historia smirks. She takes off her glasses, letting them dangle around her neck once more. She turns her attention to the sandwiches and picks one up delicately between her fingers. “Oh, and if you can pay lunch today, that would be great.”
Reiner rolls his eyes. He’s been paying for their lunches for the past few weeks. It’s customary for the person with less tallies to pay for their afternoon teas. Reiner doesn’t mind much, but he’s not sure how longer he can stand this losing streak. It’s less about money and more about pride. It’s also about planning dates that don’t result in having to slather his boyfriend’s body in cortisone cream every night for a week, although Bertholdt will say that it was an unconventional but invaluable bonding experience between the two of them.
“I hardly think that it was the worst double date we’ve ever had,” Reiner huffs. He tries to recall other disastrous dates they’ve shared with their partners. Although he usually only remembers his with shame, he does recall a handful of times where the disaster dates were planned by Historia. “What about when you flew us to France for a week and it rained the whole time? We were drenched by the time we got to our hotel. Ymir had a cold that lasted for two weeks, and we were holed up in the hotel the entire time!”
“At least it was a nice hotel,” Historia snaps. Her lower lip sticks out in a childish pout, and she leaves her sandwich abandoned on her plate. “They had so many pillows and blankets. Maybe the trip didn’t go as intended, but you can’t argue the success of Pillow Town.”
Reiner snorts at the mention of Pillow Town, the name that Ymir had given her massive pillow fort. Its construction took up nearly the entire room. When Reiner asked where the couple had slept in their hotel room, Historia confessed that she didn’t know where it was because of the mountain of pillows covering everything and had eventually given up ever trying to find it, choosing to sleep on a small mound of pillows instead. “It wasn’t successful enough to earn you a tally.”
“Just like how rail biking couldn’t earn you a tally?” Historia retorts. She’s referring to a rail bike trip that Reiner had booked for them and their partners. It was advertised as a fun, scenic activity for couples and friends. It was actually torture, and everyone except Ymir suffered a massive sunburn. Reiner couldn’t feel his arms for a week, and he’s sure that the muscle soreness was much worse for his other friends who didn’t have as rigorous gym routines.
“Yeah, or how you tried to make pasta and got the flour ratio all wrong?” Reiner replies. He’s alluding to a homemade dinner he and Historia had attempted. Everything was going well until Historia lost count of how many cups of flour they were supposed to use and added too much, resulting in dough that just wouldn’t come together. She had attempted to even it out by adding more eggs but that somehow made things worse because she couldn’t decide how much was enough and added too much. It was an endless cycle of more flour and then more eggs until they were up to their elbows in unworkable pasta dough. They ended up ordering sushi and abstained from eating pasta for a whole month after that.
“What about the time you took us to a pottery class and knocked into a shelf, shattering everyone’s mugs?” Historia snaps, speaking about a time where Reiner had destroyed not only his friend’s pottery but a week’s worth of pottery from other students that had come to take the pottery class. (Reiner still argues that it wasn’t completely his fault and that the studio should have bolted down that shelf if they didn’t want accidents like that to happen.)
They could go on and on, throwing worst-date stories at each other until they’re blue in the face, but a waitress interrupts them.
“You took look absolutely lovely together,” the waitress says with a polite smile on her face. From her pleasant tone and oblivious expression, she has no idea that the two are in the middle of an argument. “Can I say it’s just a pleasure to be serve such a wonderful couple each week?”
Historia and Reiner exchange looks with each other before bursting out into laughter.
“I would never date this man in a million years,” Historia says at the same time Reiner tells the waitress, “I’m gay.”
“O-oh,” the waitress says, shrinking back in embarrassment.
“I think we’ll take the check now,” Reiner informs the waitress, who shuffles off immediately.
“You haven’t eaten anything,” Historia points out.
“You can have all of it,” Reiner says with a wave of his hand. “I’m not hungry. I’ll save my appetite for this next date, which I will plan perfectly. I’m going to fucking devour you, Historia, and I’m not going to leave any crumbs.”
Historia smirks. “I highly doubt it, but good luck.”
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Ymir and Bertholdt are seated next to each other as they watch Historia and Reiner play Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. Historia has chosen to play as Sheik while Reiner plays as R.O.B. Ymir and Bertholdt were eliminated long ago, but Historia and Reiner are still in the game with only one life left each. It amuses both Ymir and Bertholdt how invested their partners are in the video game, choosing to stand as they mash the buttons on their switch remotes and yell expletives at each other until their throats are hoarse.
“Who are you betting on?” Ymir asks Bertholdt, nudging him with her foot.
“Reiner, of course,” Bertholdt says with a furrowed brow, his expression asking Ymir would ask him when there was only one obvious answer.
“Oh, Bertholdt, ever so faithful,” Ymir hums admirably. She turns her attention back to the screen where R.O.B is shooting laser beams at Sheik with his robot eyes. “You got it, babe! Kick his ass!”
Historia responds with a slew of curses. Bertholdt flinches at the colorful language, but it only makes Ymir throw her head back and howl with laughter.
“Sometimes watching people play videogames is more fun than playing them yourself,” Ymir says, stretching her arm against the back of the couch and grinning over at Bertholdt who has never looked more stressed out in his life. “Well, at least for some people. It’s always so funny seeing Historia curse. You know she doesn’t even swear this much when we -”
“Fuck!” Historia shouts as R.O.B. knocks Sheik off the screen and the character victory screen for the robot appears. Sheik is slumped down in the background alongside Ymir’s and Bertholdt’s characters, Wario and Kirby. Historia whirls around angrily and glares up at a smug Reiner, her switch controller dangling from her wrist. She points a finger at him. “I want a rematch!”
“Why, so you can lose again?” Reiner snickers.
“So I can beat your dumb, robot ass!” Historia says. She’s red-faced and her hair is disarray, a look of vengeance glimmers in her eye, but she’s hardly threatening at 4’9”.
“Come on, Historia,” Ymir says, standing up from the couch to wrap her arms around her girlfriend. She smothers a few kisses against Historia’s neck and gently undoes the controller strap around Historia’s wrist. “Let’s have a few more drinks and calm down a bit, and then you can go back and kick Reiner’s stupid butt.”
“Your strongest vodka, please,” Historia hiccups as Ymir leads her to the minibar for another drink. Historia stumbles behind her girlfriend drunkenly, wobbling with every step.
“I’ll make you a vodka soda,” Ymir tells her before uncapping the vodka bottle and opening a can of Sprite with a hiss.
“Surely, a drink is the exact opposite of what Historia needs,” Bertholdt says. He’s had a few drinks himself, but it always takes more than a few to get him drunk due to his large frame.
“Normally, I would agree with you, Bertl, but today’s activities include getting drunk out of our minds and playing videogames, so a few more drinks can’t hurt,” Reiner says with a lazy smile. He picks up Bertholdt’s half-finished drink, a watered-down gin and tonic, and downs the rest of it.
“I wouldn’t worry too much, it’s like 99 percent soda anyway,” Ymir assures Bertholdt in a stage whisper. Her voice is loud enough for Historia to hear, but the blonde waif is too drunk and busy downing her drink to pay attention.
Historia downs the drink in one big gulp, finishing it off with a large gasp. She doesn’t seem to notice that the soda-to-alcohol ratio is off. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. With a drunken finger, she points to where Reiner is (or at least where she thinks Reiner is).
“Rematch, asshole! I’m going to eat you alive!” Historia bellows, words slurring. Ymir gently guides Historia’s finger away from Bertholdt and towards Reiner.
A rematch hardly seems fair considering Historia can no longer distinguish her friends from each other, but Reiner picks up his controller with a chuckle. “Be prepared to lose again, Reiss.”
As they start a new match, Bertholdt can only watch with his head shaking in wonder. “It’s really difficult to believe they were friends before this,” he murmurs as Historia’s character (this time Princess Peach) drifts off the screen because Historia has confused the Toadstool Princess with Diddy Kong.
“A love like theirs is not something we mortals can understand,” Ymir says. She takes a swig from her bottle of beer and smacks her lips, relishing the taste. She once again takes a seat on the couch and smiles as Historia loses once more. “But, damn, if it isn’t entertaining.”
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The four friends lounge on the sofa and chaises in Historia and Ymir’s living room apartment. They’re decked out in their pajamas — Historia in silken pajamas while the others wear random t-shirts they got years ago from college events and plaid pajama pants — with fluffy robes thrown over. All of them have mud masks plastered on their faces, some of them applied more carefully than others. In the background, soothing whale songs play on the Bluetooth speakers. Candles are lit around the room, filling the apartment with the soothing aroma of lavender and sandalwood.
“I think this is the most relaxed I’ve felt in a long time,” Bertholdt murmurs with his eyes closed. His lips hardly move when he speaks so as to not disturb his mud mask even though it’s already dry. He wiggles his toes contentedly in his fluffy slippers.
“Where did you get this playlist?” Reiner asks Historia curiously. She doesn’t typically listen to whale songs. Her road trip playlists typically consist of classical music (she favors the work of classical composers such as Hadyn, Mozart, and Beethoven) or indie pop music if she wants to put on something that’s friendlier to the general public.
“I spent last week curating it after I decided we would have a spa day date,” Historia replies. “I don’t half-ass my date ideas, Reiner. I put the utmost care into planning every detail to make sure everything goes accordingly.”
“Of course, you do,” Reiner mutters. She’s always been like this, planning for every detail while also making sure to plan for alternative cases in the event she ran into obstacles and her original plan couldn’t be followed. It would be admirable if she weren’t using her powers for evil (I.e., outdoing him at planning dates and making him look bad in front of Bertholdt).
“I’ll send you the playlist after this since you like it so much,” Historia says, her voice saccharine sweet.
“Great, thanks,” Reiner says flatly without an ounce of sincerity in his voice.
Ymir’s legs are spread widely as she relaxes in the recliner. Her mud mask is the messiest out of the four. She hadn’t taken much care when she was applying it. She has clumps all over her face and had applied it not only on her face but her neck as well. She had gotten some of the mud mask on the collar of her fluffy robe too, but she looks rather pleased with herself anyway.
“I’ve never really been one for self-care, but I feel like I’m in my element this time,” Ymir says.
“Your element being mud?” Bertholdt snorts. “What are you, an ogre?”
“Aye, I’m an ogre! Arrr!” Ymir growls in her best impression of the beloved 2001 animated ogre Shrek. She raises her hands in a threatening pose, but it only makes her look ridiculous when her hair is tied so messily and mud is smeared across her face. The group of friends can’t help but burst into laughter at the sight of her. Ymir pretends to be offended, but even she is stifling a smile. “You laugh when you should be frightened. Do not forget that I have the upper hand now that you three have dared step foot in my swamp!”
“You’re the least threatening ogre I’ve ever seen, although you might be in the running for ugliest,” Reiner snickers.
“I think you mean the cutest ogre ever,” Historia says, and Ymir sits up straight with a pleased smile on her face.
“Aye, thank you, princess. I think you are beautiful as well. How about we kiss and have our happily ever after?” Ymir asks, but her Shrek impression has evolved into an awful Scottish accent. She pulls the most hideous expression she can before leaning over to Historia and pressing kisses against Historia’s cheeks. Ymir ignores Historia’s giggled protests and the fact that she’s getting mud on her lips, only stopping once she’s satisfactorily smothered Historia’s face with kisses.
“Ugh, you’re such a mess,” Historia says, but she smiles as she plucks tissues from a nearby tissue box to lovingly dab away mud from Ymir’s lips.
Bertholdt looks over with an amused expression. “How sweet. I guess it is true that Ogres and onions are unexpectedly sweet.”
“Excuse you,” Ymir sniffs. “Ogres and onions are similar in that we are both very complexly layered. Do we need to have another Shrek movie marathon or would you rather I recite the script for all four films to you in their entirety?”
“Can I choose neither?” Bertholdt asks. They’ve all been through both scenarios before and while it is amusing, it’s also rather time consuming.
“I am also a complexly layered being,” Reiner says, still stuck on the previous conversation. He reaches over and tugs on the elbow of Bertholdt’s robe, a childish habit he adopts whenever he’s trying to capture his boyfriend’s attention. He has a devilish smile on his face as he rises from his seat to bracket Bertholdt against the couch with his arms. “Watch me.”
Ymir and Historia laugh in delighted amusement as Reiner proceeds to kiss Bertholdt in the same reckless manner that Ymir had kissed Historia while Bertholdt yelps in surprise.
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
All four friends are currently at an antique shop trying to find the weirdest thing they can find. Reiner has a mountain of items filling his basket, deciding that he can pick one at random and still win this competition or at least place second. Bertholdt is trying to decide between two strange things: a weird Frankenstein stuffed animal made up of parts of various other stuffed animals that aren’t even the same species or a hideous Nicolas Cage sequin pillow. If you flip the sequins on the Nicholas Cage pillow, it’s an even more zoomed in version of the same photo. Ymir is very convinced that she’s already chosen the best item, a T-Rex head wall mount that she had spotted from across the store when they had first walked in. She had zoomed through aisles of second-hand clothes and odd knickknacks and plucked the wall mount from the hook it was hanging from. She hadn’t bothered to look for anything else because she was so assured that victory was in her hands. Reiner also thinks that it's highly likely Ymir is going to purchase the T-Rex regardless of whether she wins or not even though purchasing the item is not a requirement for this competition. Out of the group of friends, it seems that only Historia is struggling to find an item for the game.
Despite the plethora of odd novelty items at their disposal, anything completely out of the ordinary seems to elude Historia. At best, she can find the most mundane items. At worst, she finds things that are strange but quite impressive, like the glass egg cuber that Reiner is considering buying to make his salads more interesting.
“Are you trying to lose on purpose because it seems like you’re trying to lose on purpose,” Reiner snickers as he sees Historia looking at a shelf of perfectly cute salt and pepper shakers.
“Shut up,” Historia grumbles. She reaches towards the back of the shelf only to pluck out a pair of ceramic shakers shaped like birds. They look absolutely adorable, but Historia throws her head back and groans when she sees them before placing them back grumpily. She continues to scour more shelves, an angry pout on her face.
Bertholdt follows behind, inspecting the shelf that Historia had just abandoned. He spots the shakers that Historia had looked at and admires them. “You’re really good at picking things out, Historia. If we were having a competition to find the most amazing thing at a thrift store, I bet you’d win.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Historia frowns. “It’s not working.”
Ymir appears behind Historia with the T-Rex head tucked underneath her arm. She reaches out to give her girlfriend a comforting massage against her shoulder blades. “You just have a talent you can’t ignore, Historia, and it’s a good thing you do. Don’t think of it as a bad thing. Think about how cute our apartment looks. Remember how you wouldn’t let me pick out stuff for our place unsupervised? You don’t know how grateful I am for that. It looks so amazing thanks to your eye for décor. In fact, I think having a T-Rex head mounted over our dining table would pull everything together and bring out all the subtle gold accents of the wallpaper you selected.”
Historia is too busy scouring the aisles to listen properly and just mumbles in agreement. Ymir mouths, “Yes!” excitedly and pumps her fist in victory. Historia will probably come to regret not paying more attention to her girlfriend.
“I guess you’re just cursed with good taste,” Reiner snickers. “Who knew it would cripple you at such a pivotal moment?”
“Stop rushing me. The game isn’t even over yet,” Historia snaps. She rifles through the contents of the current shelf before giving up and heading towards the clothing section. She scans the rack with an expert eye, spending less than five seconds on each rack before moving onto the next one. She stops by the jeans section, but Reiner has already been there before, and he hadn’t seen anything odd in the rows and rows of denim when he had inspected them, so it surprises him when Historia pulls out a pair with a triumphant expression on her face. “I got it!”
Her friends crowded around her, confused. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary with the jeans that she holds up, at least not from the front. They all squint, looking up the denim up and down to see if there is something that they perhaps missed but they still fail to see why Historia is so convinced that these jeans will lead her to the path of victory.
“What is it?” Ymir finally asks.
“Assless pants.” Historia doesn’t elaborate. She only holds the jeans out further to them, but it still isn’t clear what she’s talking about.
The three are speechless with surprise, unsure if they have heard her correctly.
“Assless pants?” Reiner repeats.
“As in the fabric was worn down at the seat and they were given away or -” Bertholdt begins to ask, but Historia interrupts him.
“They don’t have an ass,” she says, and proceeds to turn over the pants so that her friends can finally see the back side.
A look at the back of the jeans does reveal that they indeed do not have an ass. Where there should be denim covering the backside, are two pieces of plastic covering the ass cheeks to ensure that the wearer’s rump will be in full view. Why anyone would ever make jeans like these is anyone’s guess.
Historia gestures for Ymir to follow her with the T-Rex head before confidently walking towards the cash register. She tosses her head back to tell her friends, “I think we can agree that I’ve won this challenge. Let’s check out our items and have a little celebratory dinner. Reiner is paying.”
Historia’s victory is indisputable, but Reiner is still confused as to why she’s purchasing the pants.
“For you to wear, of course,” Historia replies when Reiner asks. There’s a smug smirk on her lips. “I’m buying it as a consolation prize to you, the loser.”
“Fine, I’ll do it gladly because my ass looks amazing,” Reiner says through gritted teeth.
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
Reiner and Historia bump into each other in front of their tea shop. They smile at each other icily and race to open the door for the other, insisting that the other person goes first. After fighting in front of the tea shop for a few minutes, the two of them end up squishing through the front doors together, elbowing each other as they make their way through. They continue to bicker as they make their way to their usual table, but their steps falter when they realize that there are two unexpected guests seated at their usual spot. Bertholdt sits fussing with the cloth napkin in his lap, looking down because he’s unable to look them in the eye. Ymir, however, looks as if she was expecting them and gestures for Reiner and Historia to take their seats across from them.
“What are you two doing here together?” Reiner asks. Ymir and Bertholdt also have their own platonic play dates without Historia and Reiner, but they tend to enjoy different activities like playing videogames and reading manga. “I thought afternoon tea wasn’t your thing.”
Ymir shrugs, popping a finger sandwich in her mouth. She doesn’t even finish chewing before speaking. “It’s not, but we wanted to talk with you two. We’re having an intervention.”
Reiner and Historia exchange glances.
“What for? We haven’t done anything,” Historia says.
Bertholdt twists the napkin in his lap, still unable to look up. He mumbles as he speaks. He’s never liked conflict. “We’ve become aware that arranging double dates has become something of a competition between you two and we’re worried that it’s destroying your relationship.”
Reiner and Historia protest and insist that that’s not the case, but it’s clear from their guilty expressions that they are aware of what Ymir and Bertholdt are referring to.
“Okay, we’re competing to see who’s the better romantic partner by throwing fabulous double dates. Is that a crime?” Reiner says, throwing his hands up in defeat over being found out.
“No, but we’re worried it’s bringing you more pain than pleasure,” Ymir says. As she speaks, she continues to pluck various food items from the afternoon tea spread in front of them and pop them in her mouth. Seeing as Bertholdt is too anxious to eat, it must be Ymir who has devoured the majority of the meal on the table.
“I assure you that’s not the case,” Reiner tells Ymir. “It brings me so much pleasure. Every week, I look forward to destroying Historia in the art of romance. It gives me almost as much pleasure as making love to Bertholdt, the love of my life.”
Bertholdt looks absolutely mortified. He buries his face in his hands, but they aren’t large enough to cover his scarlet ears.
“Okay, but you two do know that this shouldn’t be a game, right?” Ymir asks. Other patrons had looked over in shock at Reiner’s words, some even covering their children’s ears, but Ymir is unfazed by her friend’s crudeness. “We’re all just dating, having fun, falling deeper in love with our significant others. And love isn’t a game, right?”
Historia and Reiner nod. Both of their faces have become incredibly serious.
“No, you’re absolutely right. Love isn’t a game,” Historia agrees. She reaches over to hold one of Ymir’s hands, ignoring the crumbs all over her girlfriend’s fingers. “But if it were, and I’m only saying this hypothetically, then wouldn’t you agree that I would be absolutely winning?”
“What? No, you wouldn’t!” Reiner squawks, turning toward Historia indignantly. “My weird antique shopping date was infinitely better than your spa day. I even wore those weird assless pants for you. You could tell that story to people over dinner ten times over and they still wouldn’t get tired of it.”
Historia snorts. She tosses her hair over her shoulder with of a roll of her eyes and says, “I would hardly want to talk to people about your ass hanging out of those pants over dinner. They’d all lose their appetites at the mere mention of you wearing something so hideous.”
“You were the one who insisted I wear those pants to dinner outside!” Reiner argues, his raised voice attracting even more attention from other patrons.
The two continue to bicker, completely forgetting Ymir and Bertholdt seated across from them. Bertholdt looks nervous as he watches the two argue back and forth, but Ymir continues to devour finger sandwiches without concern.
“Shouldn’t we stop them?” he asks, his fingers hovering nervously near his mouth. He rises as if to ready himself to physically separate Historia and Reiner.
“Nah, they’re just like this,” Ymir says with a shake of her head. She raises her hand to flag down a nearby waitress for more finger sandwiches. Even though she looks completely out of place in her ratty T-shirt and ripped jeans, she looks completely comfortable.
Bertholdt sighs. He leans back resignedly against the couch, but his eyebrow is still furrowed with worry. He looks exhausted just watching Reiner and Historia argue. “I’m glad we’re nothing like them.”
Very few things genuinely piss Bertholdt off but the mention of Reiner's dad is one of them. As soon as he was old enough to understand why Reiner never had a dad growing up, he felt nothing but contempt for the man he had never even met before. Over the years, Reiner's sour feelings about his dad have fizzled into melancholy ambivalence, and while he is very touched at Bertl getting offended on his behalf, he finds it more funny than anything else.
Like Bert will be angrily getting ready for bed and snuggling in next to Reiner while being like "you know what I don't get? Even as a kid, I knew right away what a wonderful, loving person you were. Do you have any idea how many people would kill to have somebody like you in their lives? And then the one guy who has a genetic connection with you treats you like dirt?!😤 Everybody loves you. All of our friends, Gabi, Falco, my mom, everybody at work loves you. Who loves him?"
"Um, I'm pretty sure he had a family on the side"
"Probably only because they don't know how much of a... shitty shit-fuck he is! Oh the things I could tell them.😤"
"What would you tell them, hun?" And then Reiner listens with stars in his eyes while Bert continues to rant while spooning him.
umemiya is such a sweet big brother type of character i feel he's a BIG family man so imagine the sort of thoughts that would be thunk when he sees his s/o taking care of the younger furin members/children in general.. 👉👈 could be both nsfw and sfw too hehe
eeeee an ume ask! tysm anon. of course, i live to provide for the ume girlies too. him being a huge family guy is making me sweat a lil. hoooooo- 🥹
thinking about being fresh into a relationship with ume and him… realizing some things way too soon.
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : breeding breeding BREEDING. breeder ballz ume. imagined sexual scenarios. general seggs.
NSFW under the cut. +18 stuff. MDNI, pookie. sowwie. you know the drill.
just like most nights, you and the Furin boys congregate to the Pothos Café.
also just like most nights, you find yourself standing over the first years’ table, playfully nagging at sakura for getting scratched up after you just patched him up good yesterday.
ume, being the absolute best boyfriend that he is, he doesn’t look on in jealousy. hell. he’s smiling so stupidly that hiragi spares him a glance and grins at him.
“take a picture it lasts longer,” hiragi teases, taking a sip from his black coffee, nudging ume out of his love induced stupor.
“can you blame me though? I mean, look at them,” he sighs wistfully, motioning to your table. hiragi follows his gaze.
you’re still there, fighting and giggling with a now red sakura, desperately trying to reach him to clean his wounds. it’s absolute chaos but seeing you getting along with the furin members and doting on them like your own siblings is only making ume fall for you even harder.
how his heart swoons at the thought of having you be a permanent fixture to his found family. how he wants to get married to you one day, to take care of a family of your own. “she’d be such a good mother to my kids,” he thinks. but before he realizes he was thinking out loud, he slowly turns to a smirking hiragi. “hm? say whatnow?” hiragi prods.
Pause.
‘she’d be such a good mother to my kids,’ he finally manages to think silently. he rotates that thought around in his mind like a puzzle, panicking inwardly. isn’t it a bit too soon to think of those things? right? I mean, you just got into a relationship with him after being friends for years — can’t be, right? to save face, he only chuckles, waving hiragi off with a limp hand.
“it’s a grown up thought. you wouldn’t get it.” he teases. but damn. just looking at you from across the café right now’s stirring a different type of feeling within him.
he finds you again in his thoughts that night in his room, your tight cunt is in the form of his fist. your name falling from his lips as he pumps on his length. his eyebrows are knit together so tightly, his eyes closed, imagining you laid out on his bed, pussy dripping with his cum. if he can’t have you the way he wants right now, he’ll just have to put his mind to work.
he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder as he slides in for the nth time that night in his thoughts, the wet squelch ever audible. he’s reaching you deeper in this position now, eager to shoot more of his load as close to your womb as possible — overload it, even. it spills, drips down onto his bedsheets but he doesn’t care.
“y-you’re gonna be such a great mother,” you hear him groan. you’re way too fucked out to respond while his eyes are raking down your naked form, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust. sweaty and panting, you reach down to rub at your clit and he bites back a moan at the added sensation. you’re tightening up around him. his fat breeder balls slap against your ass. it’s fucking amazing how endless his stamina is. you can only let out a weak whimper in response.
some days, he makes love to you so gently in his mind, taking his sweet time to bring you the pleasure you so deserve. pressing gentle kisses along your legs, your belly, your chest.
but lately, he’s been wanting to fold you over and fuck you senselessly, fucking his cum deeper inside of you. it’s downright nasty, rough—but can you blame him?
he needs to fucking breed you.
“gonna fill you up, baby. gonna put a baby in ya-“ he reaches down to cup your cheek in his hand. you instinctively lean into his touch and he swears his heart skips a beat. “y’want that? all plump with our kid inside of you. gonna look even more beautiful-“ he chuckles, ramming harder into you. his grip tightens around your leg, a pattern of crescents litter your soft flesh as he keeps a steady grip using it as leverage to fuck deeper.
you feel a tight coil in your belly, wanting to cum again on his thick, thick breeder cock. your fingers fly to the sheets below you, gripping so desperately with your head buried into the pillow beside you. moans and screams muffled by the saliva-soaked material.
“that’s right, sweetheart. cum. cum with me. f-fuuugh-!” a groan leaves your boyfriend’s lips as he feverishly rubs at your clit, bringing you to cum with him. a mixture of his juices and yours dribble down his balls and down your thighs, soaking the mattress further.
-
his toes curl and his back arches away from his bed as he pumps his cock desperately, your name escaping his lips unbidden in pants and whimpers. his cum squirts far, even reaching his cheek and his pillow.
“fuuuuck,” he whispers to himself, sitting up from his bed to wipe himself up, already dreading the clean up process.
but his doorknob turns with a gentle knock on his door.
you catch him looking like a deer in headlights, cock still in hand and cum smearing his uniform and cheek.
smirking, you step inside his room slowly, eyeing him down with a blush creeping up your neck.
did i wound up going overboard with all the characters i like and proceed to write over 2k words? yes. am i going to stop? never
HARUKA SAKURA | 桜 遥 ─ ♬﹒♡
Attempting to flirt with a guy like SAKURA, or even show any kind of affection, is already beyond hopeless, for the second you approach him with the intention of initiating affection, regardless of what it is, his entire face goes crimson. The guy's flushed face is redder than a traffic light, you like to say, only to then get a mouthful from Sakura that he isn't blushing, and it's just that the weather feels hot. It’s not him. So stop looking at him like that!
Yeah, right. Hot in the middle of the damn winter.
Sakura loves and shows affection through his actions, most of them somewhat unintentional and subconscious. He might brush a stray hair from your face while you're eating together, make sure you're walking on the inside of the sidewalk, or quietly leave your favourite snacks where you can find them—only to then flush into a deep crimson when you bring up his romantic gestures. Because to him, he really doesn't think before he acts, and yet does so tenderly when with you and you only.
It's these small gestures that speak volumes about his feelings for you. And God help anyone who decides to poke fun at you or comment on a singular "bad" thing about you. Whoever makes fun of you or even dares to comment on what he deems as poorly about you and your delightful character is in for a world of hurt. Sakura's protective side surfaces, and he will immediately start burning up like a wildfire you can't put out, ready to defend your honour at a moment's notice, even if that means firing back against his own gang members and friends.
HAJIME UMEMIYA | 梅宮 一 ─ ♬﹒♡
The physical manifestation of a lovebug. Hugs, kisses, cuddles, and more—you name it. Did I mention that he loves, loves, loves physical affection? UMEMIYA is all over you, to the point where you can hardly move whenever his arms encircle you, just like a little cuddly bear. It certainly gets more than a little awkward when the other Furin members are around, watching your and their leader's affectionate moments and PDA happen in real-time, but Umemiya doesn't care. If anything, he’s all for it! That just means that others will for sure know that you’re taken and you're his.
His love is open, unrestrained, unabashed, and utterly shameless, a stark contrast to his model demeanour as the leader of Furin. How this guy can act like this and also beat people half to death is beyond comprehension in their eyes. And as the leader of Furin, he's also like your protector. You would never need a bodyguard when you have your boyfriend by your side at all times of the day, one way or another. He's there from dawn to dusk, from sunrise to sunset. His presence may be both comforting and overbearing at times, yet you wouldn't trade his ceaseless companionship for the world, knowing he'll always be there, and likewise, you'll always be there for him.
HAYATO SUO | 蘇枋 隼飛 ─ ♬﹒♡
SUO is calm and calculating, his sharp mind is always a step ahead of others, but most importantly, he's loyal to a fault. His ability to anticipate your needs and understand your emotions without you saying a word is both a blessing and a curse. Suo is intelligent but arguably one of the most mysterious guys in Furin. A complete "stick in the mud," Sakura would say with a peeved expression of distaste. He can read you like a book, which can be irritating at times—the way that he purposely acts like a know-it-all, all with the intention of pissing you off that day—all the while keeping his own thoughts private. While you appreciate his attentiveness, his tendency to withhold his own feelings can be frustrating, especially during the times when you need his emotional support the most.
Despite this, Suo's actions speak volumes about his devotion. There was more in his mind than you originally thought of him. Suo might not verbalize his true feelings often, often masking them from under his aloof facade and honeyed words, but his loyalty ultimately shines through in the little things he does for you. Because when it matters most, Suo is there, all behind that expression of his. His faint, knowing smile and just the air that surrounds him only deepen your curiosity about what was behind that eyepatch of his. But only you could see the vulnerability hidden beneath his composed exterior, his silence often hiding a depth of emotions that not even words could ever fully express.
JO TOGAME | 十亀 条 ─ ♬﹒♡
If Umemiya is considered protective over you, TOGAME is even more so fiercely vigilant in his watch over you. At first glance, he appears stern and unapproachable—it certainly was to you—with his glasses covering the hearts in his eyes. However, once you get to know him, you discover a sensitive, caring guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. And that is precisely who Togame was.
His affections are subtle but deeply felt. He remembers the most minor details about you that many would either forget or deem as not important, but not to Togame. From your favourite book to the way you like your tea, he's always there to lend a hand or offer a quiet word of encouragement when you need it most, and his protective nature means he's always looking out for potential threats, ensuring your safety without ever making a fuss about it. All your pretty little head needs to worry about is feeling cherished and loved.
TOMA HIRAGI | 柊登馬 ─ ♬﹒♡
If there's even a slight chance that someone or something even laid hands on you with the intention of hurting you, HIRAGI would never in his life let that happen, even if it meant using his own body as your shield. He knows that being in a gang attracts a lot of enemies, and through that, increases the possibility of putting you in danger. Because of that, Hiragi is always on high alert. And if he’s not around, he’ll either ask Sugishita, Umemiya or “Othello-kun” to help out and ensure your safety. Why they even bother to accept his request is beyond me, but his concern for you was always evident, and they knew that. Hiragi puts your safety above all. You hate that he puts himself at risk, but you can't deny the comfort his presence brings.
Hiragi’s anxiety manifests as hyper-vigilance, which can sometimes backfire when you become hyper-sensitive and worry about his health. Your love for each other goes deep, as, despite his protectiveness, there are times when Hiragi needs your comfort, too. He's practically a bundle of nerves all, for better or not worse, wound into a singular individual, partly due to Umemiya's constant nonchalance, which only heightens his anxiety. You often find yourself being the one to soothe him, reminding him to breathe and take it one step at a time. His commitment to your safety and peaceful life away from all the chaos he is entrenched in is firm as a rock, even if it means pushing his own limits to ensure that happens.
CHOJI TOMIYAMA | 兎耳山 丁子 ─ ♬﹒♡
His constant mood swings are something that you were well aware of when you started seeing the boy, for sure, but CHOJI's love for you is undeniable. No one could ever doubt that. Not even Togame, who witnessed firsthand how devoted Choji was whenever in your presence. It was refreshing, in a way, to see Choji like that. To be truly carefree and unburdened and not compelled by the turmoil in his own mind. He wasn't driven to seek solace in conflicts and fights to find joy and his longing for “happiness.” For whenever he found himself in your company, happiness was not just a possibility but an inevitability.
He's always ensuring, whether you like it or not, that you are aware of his feelings and affection for you, even if it means drilling the same ramblings into your ears for hours on end. Despite his erratic moods, he's a sweet presence to have around. His ramblings often turn into heartfelt confessions and declarations of love, making you smile even on your worst days. Moreover, Choji has a knack for lightening the mood, and his energetic personality is a welcome contrast to the more serious members of your inner circle.
Did I already say that he's energetic? Well, Choji is a ball of exuberance, and he doesn't take no for an answer when it comes to making you feel loved. He's like a burst of sunshine, brightening your day with the infectious enthusiasm that can make anyone smile. No matter how anarchic his emotions get, his love for you, regardless of circumstance, will never change.
REN KAJI | 梶蓮 ─ ♬﹒♡
KAJI is the kind of guy who silently stays by your side. It's a comfortable silence that you've grown to love and appreciate, with his quiet presence being a constant source of comfort. He's not one for grand gestures or flowery words of affection, and you're well aware of that, but his advice and insights are invaluable. Whenever you face a problem in your life, Kaji is there, offering a solution with a calm, measured approach, even if he does throw in a couple of swear words and cusses here and there when at times losing his cool. It's the thought that counts.
His silence is not a sign of indifference but of his thoughtful nature. He listens far more than he speaks, and his actions reflect his deep care for you far more than anybody else by a landslide. Even the man-child that is Umemiya notices. Though he may not be as outwardly affectionate as others, his loyalty and his presence alone at your side speak volumes about his love for you, nothing more. Kaji's quiet strength is a pillar you can always lean on, his love expressed through every considerate action, whether big or small.
KYOTARO SUGISHITA | 杉下京太郎 ─ ♬﹒♡
Another one who cannot physically use words to communicate for the life of him. Everyone has seen SUGISHITA's loyalty to Umemiya, but how exactly would that loyalty manifest if it were directed towards you, his significant other, arguably the most important person in his life? He's fiercely protective, and that's putting it lightly. Whoever dares to harm you or speaks to you deplorably, there will be hell to pay. Quite literally.
Sugishita the definition of "actions speak louder than words." He's not a romantic, he's not a flirt, but what he is—more than what everybody else is—dependable to a fault. Any kind of affection will have this boy's brain reloading and scrambling. Sugishita is more similar to Sakura than most people may assume, something that Sakura will never admit to, not even on his deathbed. And the one time he did, using the nickname "baby" all the while saying all that with the unintentional expression of a homicidal maniac had not only Umemiya (the idiot who gave him the "advice" to try being romantic for once) bawling his eyes out in laughter but also made your face flush red in embarrassment, unable to utter a word.
...Was this really your boyfriend?
His gestures, though subtle, are filled with meaning. Whether it's fixing something for you, helping to carry the heavier stuff for you, ensuring you have everything you need, or simply being there when you need him, Sugishita's actions are his way of showing he cares. Not even Umemiya could look and claim that he treated others, including himself, the same way he treated you. Sugishita’s not one for grand displays of affection—if he's even able to comprehend how to present that without having an expression that he's about to snap at any time—but his reliability and steadfastness are a comfort that Furin as a whole, and you, his one and only lover, appreciates greatly.
In a world of so much uncertainty, especially in such a gang-centric environment, Sugishita's consistent presence is a reassuring and refreshing constant. He's your silent guardian, always watching, always protecting his love—what was to you, an unspoken promise, but to him, a forever vow.
