#i have just met the guy and all i know about him so far is that he collects recipes and judges women's appearances

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Ironically, after having obsessively listened to the entire saga on repeat last night, my favorite song was I Can’t Help But Wonder. It was my least favorite on my first listen through, but the more I listened to it and absorbed all the meanings and implications? I just. Loved it so much more 😭

There’s Odysseus finally meeting his son for essentially the first time (yes he held him as an infant, but he doesn’t know him as a person), there’s the fact that he spent twenty years wishing he could know his son. And then there’s Telemachus on the other side of the conversation who’s been dreaming of knowing his dad for twenty years and is worried his dad won’t love him?? Devastating. Imagine desperately loving and wanting to meet your child for twenty years and being told they worry you won’t love them??

AND THE LINE ABOUT ODYSSEUS TELLING HIS INFANT SON HE WOULD CAPTURE THE WIND AND SKY FOR HIM?? Guys. Odysseus literally captured the wind and sky to get home to his son and wife.

And then we have the reunion with Athena 😭😭 They don’t even talk about anything that happened?? I just imagine this scene of Odysseus saying, “Show yourself. I know you’re watching me,” just like he did when they first met, and neither of them say a thing about their argument, nothing about Athena fighting for him and saving him, nothing about everything that happened between the last ten years.

And without saying any of that, Athena goes straight into a roundabout way of saying, “You were right, I was wrong, and I led you astray.” She said, “I’m sorry,” without saying it. And there’s a beat of silence. Odysseus sighs. And essentially tells her, “No, you weren’t wrong. And I wasn’t wrong either. That world could exist somewhere far away, but it doesn’t exist here. I’m too old and tired to ever find it though, so you’ll have to make it exist someday for both of us.”

He forgives her in un-said words. It’s an absolution of the wrong Athena feels she’s committed. A goddess apologized to him, and Odysseus absolved her of her sins. Just. AHHHHHHHHHHH.

And then they part ways 😭😭😭 and there’s a tone in their voices that says it’s really their final goodbye this time. And they didn’t even say goodbye.

[see-arcane]

You know the one good thing about being a pessimist?

It feels great to be proven wrong.

Bravo, Bobby Egg.

I was so happily surprised by this. This film went through a fantastic puberty between the leaked script and the screen. The main points to note:

-No, Ellen is not hot for Count Orlok. She and Thomas are 110% in love. There are even certain Harker-flavored quotes thrown in to prove as much. (Details under the cut.)

-Count Orlok is a terrifying bastard and a half. Significantly more imposing than classic Orlok’s spindly rigor mortis-stiff figure and only wearing a sliver of Dracula’s performative charm. He is a Devil-Death archetype playing a monster who operates in deceit and contracts to wring out what he wants. That and a lot of corpses.

-This film is so beautiful. No gothic touch is skipped.

In sum, I more than like this film. I love it. It isn’t perfect, because no film can be, but damn. I am so proud of this nightmare you made, Bobby Egg.

SPOILERS FOR Nosferatu (2024) BELOW

-Getting some cons out of the way. There are points where a few of the actors lean maybe a bit too heavy on the ham-and-cheese in their deliveries (I’ll not blame the kids, they’re very young, but yeesh. That’s some cartoon acting.)

Yes, the g-slur is still used; though while I wish it hadn’t appeared in Eggers’ script at all, it does make sense within the context of the setting, i.e. Thomas and the Innkeeper probably only having the one word they know, same as in Dracula. And yes, naked teenage girl-on-a-horse does happen for the vampire hunt scene. Whee.

-Now, an early pro: Eggers nixed the ‘hot teen girl tries to pickpocket Thomas’ bit, and the ‘land of phantoms and thieves’ line never happens. All that happens after Thomas wakes in the inn—post witnessing the vampire slaying in the local graveyard, mud on his shoes to prove it was real—is he discovers himself utterly alone. No people, no horse. Cue the long walk.

-Ellen doing the ‘Come to me,’ bit early on is her in adolescence. It’s revealed that her Weird Girl elements have been turned up to 11, tragic lonely past included (replete with dad threatening to send her to a madhouse), and her prayer was just for company. The psychic ping was picked up by Orlok, who took advantage, turning an isolated and desperate barely-more-than-a-kid’s wish into a ‘covenant.’

-Thomas was met not long after this, cue them being genuinely in love <3

-Knock Does Not Jerk Off On Screen. If he does, his back is to us, and Little Knock is covered with some occult tablet or suchlike while he’s doing his ritual business. Also he kills a guy in his cell. Using his teeth.

-Castle time! Thomas is greeted by a driverless carriage at a crossroads and seems to be hypnotized into stepping in. A lot of things Thomas does once in Orlok’s territory seem to very clearly have psychic puppet strings attached. That and some increasing terror on Thomas’ part. There is no warm Dracula-style welcome from Orlok when he arrives, but a terse and strange leading to the dinner table where paperwork is demanded.

- We get a glimpse of this version of the Count’s ego. Thomas calls him sir. Orlok demands Thomas address him as my lord. And then we get the bread cutting scene. Thomas’ thumb bleeds. Orlok get far too interested. His voice, a very guttural and rasping bass, turns into something closer to an animal trilling and growling. Thomas is paralyzed beside the fire; cut away as Orlok closes in.

-Ellen and Anna Harding have a bit of a Mina and Lucy deal going on at the beach. It’s sweet <3 (Prepare for pain </3)

 - Orlok starts getting tricky. He 1) borrows (steals) Ellen’s locket from Thomas and 2) Tricks Thomas into signing a contract to ‘sell’ Ellen/break their marriage via a strange contract in a language Thomas can’t read, with Orlok using the prop of some gold to imply that this is merely a document in ~his native language~ to complete the property sale. Thomas signs, less for the gold than to be gone from the castle and back to Ellen…only for Orlok to insist Thomas is not well. He must stay the night.

- No mind games here. Just Thomas pleading to leave and Orlok’s parting word being that he will stay, and that he will obey his orders.

-Orlok has already chomped Thomas on the tiddy as of last night. Next night, after Thomas almost lands a blow on him in the coffin—Orlok sleeps with his Orcock out in the box, by the way, alongside several rats—Orlok wills Thomas to unlock the door he shut between them. Cue Thomas being tranced onto the bed, pounced on, and basically dry-humped by Orlok as he drinks Thomas all but dry. Thomas is left that way, only to be woken by Orlok’s wolves—he has those too!—and go clambering out the window, dropping to the river below.

-Orlok makes Ellen’s life hell. Holy fuck. The 1838 quality ‘medicine’ definitely doesn’t help—corsets for correcting posture, draining blood because there’s too much in there, binding to the bedposts to stop sleepwalking, general drugging etc etc—but FUCK. Lily-Rose Depp did a great and terrible job of reproducing shaking fits and some of the faces and sounds she made had me thinking I might choke on my own tongue. And for all the sexually provocative poses/noises that happen, every time she comes out of it it’s clear that she hates this. It’s on par with psychic rape.

-The only times we see Ellen respond positively~ to Orlok’s dream-advances is when she’s telling Thomas about the ‘marrying Death’ dream where everyone died and she was deliriously happy and then the infamous trailer line about Thomas not being able to satisfy her as Orlok can~~~

Well guess what.

Guess fucking what.

That was Orlok leaning on her brain. The same way he did to Thomas when, eventually, after the nuns rescue him and pray the plague/vampirism out and he makes it home while half-dead, he lays in bed with Ellen and gets a panic attack combined with Orlok’s image being grafted over Ellen’s face…

…a reverse of the illusion Orlok gave him in the castle, with Thomas imagining it was Ellen on top of him instead. The effect terrifies Thomas all over again and he unwittingly tosses Ellen away, I can't breathe, get off of me, get off!

-Orlok does his murder snacking. Knock, who escaped, offers to find and kill Thomas to please the Count, literally on his hands and knees. Orlok calls him a dog and backhands him, insisting Ellen must be given, not stolen.

-Orlok has already visited Ellen by this time. He presses her to keep her deal with him. She tells him, flat out, I abhor you. In response, Orlok grabs her and chucks her like a ragdoll in a rage. He fumes, telling her he will give her three nights to pledge herself to him, and in the meantime he will start killing. (RIP to Anna and her little girls, the latter of whom ORLOK KILLS IN FRONT OF HER, EATING THEIR THROATS OUT AS SHE ENTERS THEIR ROOM.)

-Before all that, he spins bullshit about Thomas ~selling her to him for mere gold~. A technical truth that Ellen, mid-Orlok spell, spits back at Thomas amid a rage, along with details that are likewise based in only a granule of reality; but which Orlok did not mention in their scene together. Things like Thomas being weak and childish, that he ‘fell into Orlok’s arms like a fainting woman.’ Interesting choice of spin there, Orlok. But whatever.

This all culminates in what is either reality or a dream or a blend of both as Thomas makes sudden desperate love to her, Ellen weirdly heady about it, telling him yes yes yes they will show Orlok their love. Cue her snapping back to full cognizance (awake? dreaming?) as her eyes and mouth spurt blood in a vision. She collapses in fear and tears as Thomas holds her. AND THEN:

-Ellen. Drops. The I am unclean line. She wants Thomas away from her, she is not worthy, she puts him in danger.

-Thomas goes full Jonathan and clings to her. Nonsense. I love you. I love you. I love you.

-V i n d i c a t i o n

-Anyway.

-Dafoe-Von Franz-Van Helsing is a kooky science occultist. Finds a book that Knock had which fills the role of highlighting Orlok as Solomonari (hey, Scholomance shout out!) and Knock as a would-be beneficiary. Also includes the ‘maiden offers her body and blood to the monster to kill it via sunrise’ bit.

-While he reads this, he does NOT actually spell any of these details out to Ellen when they have their secret mini talk about tricking Thomas into hunting for the coffin with him and Sievers. He gives her a big ~you're the only one who can save us magic maiden martyr~ pep talk, but that's it. Meanwhile, Ellen was already preparing to offer herself to save Thomas and whoever’s left in Wisborg. Not the same kind of agency as the original, but still better than I was expecting.

-Harding, Thomas’ rich friend whose wife and children got drinked to death, dies of plague in the family tomb. They burn the bodies.

-In the ruin Orlok bought, cue the iron stake slamming down as they open the coffin..! But whoops. Knock’s in the box, not Orlok. Von Franz says Ellen offering herself is the only way~ Thomas doesn’t waste time throttling him, just makes a run for their home.

-Too late, of course. Orlok is there (with a very cool homage to the original stalking shadow silhouette routine) and Ellen welcomes him. While they are both naked in bed and it’s implied that they are/or intend to have sex, the bulk of the scene centers on Orlok taking Ellen’s blood from her breast. No clear shot of the Orcock on screen for that bit—Bobby Egg saved that pleasure for the Count flashing Thomas at the castle.

-Orlok’s death throes. Are so. Fucking. Cool. Definitely up there with one of the best vampiric demises I’ve ever seen on film. No spoilers there. You’ve got to see it.

-Heartbreak o’ Clock as Thomas bursts in just as Orlok has died and as Ellen is dying under him. There’s time for them to hold hands. And then she’s gone.

-We close on Von Franz popping up with some poetic soliloquy shit and a bunch of lilacs. The final beat is an overhead shot of Ellen, the Maiden, laying under the now-skeletal Orlok, as Death. Looks almost like a painting. Unlike the implication in the leaked script, she does not look happy/at peace. Simply asleep. The End.

-Other important notes:

1) Orlok has a little combover’s worth of hair on top and mighty and powerful ‘stache. Not Dracula-white, but it is there. Finally.

 2) The guy who plays Dr. Sievers has Alan Rickman’s voice. If he isn’t in opera, he should be.

3) I was too late to get a popcorn coffin box. I shall be in mourning until the New Year.

4) Bobby Egg if you can give me one more gift, let it be a deleted scene of Thomas beating Von Franz over the head with the iron stake, please and thank you <3

[little-diable]

The Agreement - Rafe Cameron (smut)

So, this is a new one. But I am so deep down the Rafe and Drew rabbit hole, I just had to write something. This has potentional for more parts, but I will settle on that once I get your reactions on this part 1. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is new to the area, but it didn't taken long for Sarah's and her ways to cross. But life in the area is expensive, so the reader is in desperate need for someone to support her, perhaps Rafe Cameron, the guy everybody warned her about, is the right guy to help her out. But Rafe Cameron isn't a guy with a soft heart, the devil doesn't make one sided deals.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), sex with a stranger somewhat, sex in an unfamiliar room, spitting, slight choking, degrading, talks about the reader working as a sugar baby

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (3.1k words)

I LIVE for this gif. Jesus.

“Honestly, I am so ready to marry rich and forget about all these payments. Who can even afford to pay for all these things?” A groan left (y/n), head rolling back while she pressed herself further against the mattress of her bed. For a moment she was met with silence, waiting for Sarah to reply, but her friend kept quiet, seemingly deep in thought. 

“Well, maybe it’s time we finally find you someone good. I bet you’d easily find someone fitting at the Country Club.” (Y/n) had to fight against the urge to roll her eyes, Sarah was all too aware of her distaste for all these rich people who only cared about themselves. She was still relatively new to the area but had instantly picked up on the struggles between the pogues and kooks, fights (y/n) desperately wanted to stay away from. 

“Thank you, but I’d rather sell my soul than step a foot into that place.” Sarah’s giggles forced a smile to widen on (y/n)’s lips, knowing that her new friend wouldn’t back down from this discussion.

“Oh c’mon, live a little. But you could also just try to mingle at a party, I guess.” It took (y/n) a moment to think through the idea, especially since she knew she’d feel by far more comfortable at a party rather than at the country club. The hum leaving her drew another giggle from Sarah, already excited about whatever (y/n) may stumble upon.

“I guess I could but only if you join me to figure out if there are any parties worth joining.” She had interacted quite a lot with Sarah Cameron so far, a friendly face she had crossed paths with every now and then when she had first moved here. Something seemed to connect the two of them, something (y/n) couldn’t pinpoint yet but was insanely grateful for nevertheless. 

“Absolutely I’ll text you in a few!”

…

She should have stayed at home, away from all these unfamiliar faces, the alcohol which would undoubtedly leave her massively hungover, and the horrible music she couldn’t endure much longer. So far she still hadn’t crossed paths with Sarah, clinging to the promise that she’d eventually show up with some friends in tow - people (y/n) could click with, according to Sarah at least.

The distaste clung to her face as (y/n) pushed through the crowd of sweaty bodies, trying to stay away from those who looked at her for a few seconds too long. Her feet carried her towards the kitchen, set on pouring herself another drink to at least endure another hour of this party.

With her eyes set on the open cabinet, (y/n) tried to reach for one of the almost empty bottles, weight shifted onto her toes to grasp it - though miserably failing. The exhausted huff clawing through her was swallowed by the sound of a raspy laugh filling the kitchen, forcing her eyes to find a pair of bright ones. 

“C’mon, you almost had it, don’t stop the show now.” The smirk clinging to his lips left her scowling, instantly recognising him, Rafe Cameron, Sarah’s brother. Even though (y/n) hadn’t been around for long, she had picked up on numerous warnings, telling her to stay away from the guy who was followed around by trouble. 

“Fuck off.” Her words made him laugh again, letting the sound ring in her ears while he pushed himself closer. Rafe’s cologne wrapped itself around her, making her heavily swallow the second she felt his front pressed against her back. With one hand finding her waist, he held her close while reaching for the bottle she had tried to grasp. Wordlessly he poured her some of the liquid, letting go of her seconds later, but she stayed quiet, not saying a single word to the smirking guy.

“Where’s my thank you? Or is cursing the only thing you can do?” Rafe leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed in front of his chest. Her eyes couldn’t help but find his bulging muscles, hating that he was that handsome while she had promised others she’d stay away from him. 

“I don’t want to further inflate your ego, Cameron.” (Y/n) tried to push past Rafe, though without any luck. His bright eyes wandered over her features, grinning down on the frowning girl. His hands kept holding onto her, settling on her waist as if they had crossed paths numerous times before, more familiar with one another than they let on. 

“I can see why you haven’t found many new friends so far, (y/n).” A scoff left her as she tried to push him away, though without any luck. Anger began to bubble deep inside of her, wondering how she could get rid of the devilish handsome guy. But Rafe seemed all too comfortable with their closeness, looking at her like a predator ready to snap, already high on her blood he’d feast from any second now. “What’s your problem with me, huh?” “I have no problem with you, Rafe. Let me go.” He clicked his tongue before letting it run along his lower lip, a motion she couldn’t help but stare at, eyes following his every movement. 

“What did my sister tell you about me?” His thumb began to move, softly stroking along the silver of skin her top showed off. Goosebumps covered her arms, something (y/n) could only curse at, hating her body for feeling that drawn towards him. Sarah had told her all those gruesome stories about him, a psychotic guy she should desperately try to stay away from – and yet something intrigued (y/n), something she couldn’t shake.

“Drugs, guns, whoring around, the list is long, and I really don’t want to catch anything from you.” She shot him a sickly sweet smile before finally pulling herself free. Without giving Rafe the chance to stop her, (y/n) managed to disappear from his sight, finding shelter in another spot of the mansion. Her heart was racing in her chest, beating faster than probably ever before. 

Sarah’s words kept hallowing in her mind, sharply reminding her of the bad news following Rafe Cameron around, words that began to lose their importance when her eyes were drawn back to his bright ones. They held contact as she drowned her drink in one go, still feeling his hands on her body as if he had burned his touch into her skin. Her breath got hitched in her chest as Rafe began to move, seemingly set on speaking to her again – and yet he didn’t get far, forced to watch his sister find (y/n) first, pulling her outside. 

“I was looking for you, I want to introduce you to some people.” Sarah clung to (y/n)’s side as she led her to the pool area, introducing her to people whose names she didn’t pick up on, still thinking of Rafe. Sarah’s words from this morning reached her again, overthinking their plan of (y/n) finding a guy to keep around at a party like this, a plan she had to scoff at now.

“Sarah told us you’re currently working as a surf instructor around here, would you want to go surfing with us tomorrow morning?” A blonde guy smiled at her, forcing her to focus for a second. The cap he wore only showed off a few of his strands, enough for her to pick up on how cute he looked. She was close to denying, wanting to spend the morning sleeping in, but the way Sarah squeezed her wrist forced a soft “Sure” out of (y/n). 

She didn’t listen to the other things the group shared, feeling a pair of eyes on her. Slowly, (y/n) let her gaze wander, finding Rafe looking at her from one of the windows. He raised his brows in an almost mocking manner, taking a sip of his drink as if he was daring her to find her way back to him. She rolled her eyes at him, and yet she stepped away from Sarah a moment later, murmuring something about having to find the bathroom. 

Rafe was back at her side the second she stepped into the house, pulled through the room by the hand finding hers. The loud music momentarily managed to drown out her racing thoughts, thoughts that were completely silenced the second she found herself pushed into a dark room, front pressed against Rafe’s.

“Is this one of your famous tactics? Pulling girls you don’t know into dark ro-,” she didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence, interrupted by the feeling of Rafe’s lips finding hers. Even though her first instinct was to push him away, she didn’t find the want to do it, instead (y/n) chased his lips, swallowing the raspy chuckle leaving Rafe.

She was all too aware of the way Rafe’s eyes had followed her around for the past weeks, trying to find the right moment to speak to her whenever he was at the beach with his friends or when she met friends near the club. Late at night he’d stroke his cock to the thought of her, painting the screen of his phone white while looking at her pictures, only further fuelling his obsession with her. Something about (y/n) stuck to Rafe, perhaps it was the fact that she was all too oblivious to the struggles they all had faced for the past months, perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t seem to give a shit about him, whatever it was, he needed to get his hands on her. 

Without breaking the kiss, Rafe led her to the bed, plopping down on it with her falling into his lap. Their tongues got tangled, brushing together while his warm hands found their way underneath her shirt, feeling her tremble in his grasp. His name rolled off her tongue as (y/n) needed a second to breathe, high on the feeling of him kissing his way down her throat.

Her mind screamed at her, asking her what the hell she was doing, and yet her body didn’t seem to care. Rafe Cameron had pulled her into his trap, unable to rip herself free while slowly letting him in. She didn’t protest as he pulled her shirt over her head, didn’t protest as his lips found her right nipple, softly biting and sucking on the soft skin before finding the other. 

“Fuck, we shouldn’t do this.” For a second he froze at her slightly panicked words, waiting for her to say something else, to push him away. But (y/n) didn’t find the strength to pull herself free, tugging on his golden strands to reconnect their lips, allowing him to shift them around to press (y/n) against the mattress. It felt as if her body was on fire, set ablaze by his touch, by the way he towered over her and looked at her as if she was the prettiest sight he had ever set his eyes on. 

“Breathe, sweetheart, let me do this.” Rafe kissed his way down her stomach, pulling her shorts and soaked panties down her legs to settle between her thighs. The moan that left him the second he brushed his tongue through her slit made her arch her back, pushing herself further against his mouth. Rafe’s eyes were set on her pleasure-drunken features, watching her get lost in the sensation. 

“Fuck, Rafe.” (Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, hands finding his hair to hold him close. It had been a while since she had last been with someone, no longer used to feeling this alive. His thumb circled her pulsing bundle, tongue slowly fucking into her tightness to push her further towards the edge. No longer was her mind racing, no longer did (y/n) find herself overthinking this situation, solemnly focused on Rafe’s skilled touch.

“Look at you, pretty girl, at the mercy of a guy you claim not to like.” It was clear that he enjoyed this all too much, smirking up at (y/n) who couldn’t reply to his teasing words. She was desperate to cum, to let go with his name rolling off her tongue like a prayer spoken in a need of guidance. 

He put his mouth back on her heat, sucking on her clit while he pushed two of his long fingers into her, fucking her with his fingers curled against her swollen spot. Another moan clawed its way out of (y/n), reverberating through the dark room, a sound so sweet Rafe couldn’t help but groan against her skin. The sound was enough to push her over the edge, cumming on his tongue with a call of his name. 

Rafe’s fingers fucked her through her high, enjoying the sight of her trembling body, watching her fall apart with his bright eyes that had slowly adjusted to the darkness. Only when she loosened her grip on his hair did Rafe move up her body again, pressing a kiss to her slightly swollen lips which allowed (y/n) to taste herself on his tongue.

“Will you let me fuck you, (y/n)?” She was spaced out, and yet her mind was still clear enough to pick up on his words. A moan left her before she could stop the sound from making it past her lips, set on the same goal as Rafe. His ringed fingers rested on her throat, keeping a tight grasp on her, “Gonna need you to speak up, use your words.” 

“Fuck me, Rafe, please.” It was all he needed to hear, momentarily letting go of her to pull his shirt over his head, to free his hard cock from the confines of his trousers, and to pull a condom down his length. She forced herself up on her forearms, resting her weight on them to watch him tower over her. Their eyes held contact as Rafe pushed into her, letting his cock spread her tight walls.

For a second, neither of them moved, allowing their bodies to adjust before Rafe began to fuck her with a faster growing rythm. With one hand resting on the pillow next to her head, he kept himself balanced while the other found its way back to her throat. She stared up at him, fully at his mercy as if the devil himself was fucking her, forcing her to accept that she had just gambled with her soul and lost it to him. 

His thrusts were ferocious, hips meeting hers with every movement, drawing sinful sounds from the both of them. Rafe’s thumb tapped against her lip, forcing (y/n) to open her mouth – seemingly understanding what he was about to do. He stared down at her as he spat onto her tongue, making her swallow his saliva without protesting once, finding the way he was claiming her too hot to fight against it. 

“I should have fucked that tight cunt of yours the first time I laid my eyes on you.” Rafe’s rasped out words left her gasping, eyes rolling back into her head for a second. His words had an instant effect on (y/n), letting her stuttering breaths break out of her as if she hadn’t been allowed to inhale any air for the past minutes. “Such a pathetic little slut, letting the guy others warned you about fuck you. But you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“I am, fuck, you’re so good at this, Rafe.” She no longer cared about his way too big ego, didn’t care about how desperate she sounded, solemnly focused on her second nearing orgasm. One of her hands found her pulsing bundle, circling it while her free hand moved up his naked back, feeling his muscles tense beneath it.

“Beg for it, baby, let me hear how desperate you are to cum on my cock.” Another moan left her, and another as his thrusts met the spot that made her choke. It took (y/n) a second to find her voice, blabbering a few incoherent begging words before finding her strength.

“Please, let me cum, fuck, I need it, Rafe.” He chuckled against her lips, once again picking up his speed before a raspy “Cum” found its way to her. She choked on her moans, sobbing his name while he followed her down the edge seconds later, moaning into their kiss. 

Heavy breaths left them both, clinging to one another without speaking for a moment or two. Only slowly did he let go of her, pulling away to throw the condom into the trash. (Y/n) watched him move around, redressing while he seemed deep in thought, no longer wearing that arrogant smirk she secretly loved. 

“I heard what you talked about with Sarah this morning.” Rafe had his eyes focused on her, eyebrows furrowed as if he struggled to find the right words. She didn’t say anything at first, dressing herself before plopping back down on the bed. “About bills and payments and all that shit.” 

“Mhm, what about it?” Her tone had something almost bored to it, not daring to let him in on the panic that slowly began to simmer inside of her. She shouldn’t care about what he was thinking of her, even though he had just fucked her better than any other guy she had been with so far. 

“I have a proposition for you, an arrangement if you want. You need someone to help with your bills and I need someone I can trust by my side for all these galas and events I need to show up at, someone to fool partners with.” A humourless laugh left (y/n) at his words, not daring to believe the words Rafe had just spoken. 

“I knew you were an asshole, but I don’t need you to fuck with me like that, Cameron.” She rose to her feet, set on fleeing from this room, but Rafe didn’t let her, hand snapping down on her wrist like it had back in the kitchen. 

“It’s the truth, Sarah seems to like you for whatever reason, and even though her people skills are fucked, I fear she may be right with this one.” His words had a strange undertone to them, a desperation that made her halt for a second. (Y/n) let her eyes wander over his features, studying Rafe who stared at her with an unreadable expression. 

“Do you really mean that? You’d pay me for making you, what? Look good at events? Would I be like a sugar baby?”

[thedisc0spider]

Hi I have a Spencer request🙏 maybe either reader meeting his family or Spencer meeting reader's family and they're all giving them like knowing glances and talking about how cute they are and their family think they're just like the coolest❤️❤️

Seasons Greetings

————————————————————————————————————

Summary: the request BUT in honor of the holiday season I have made it Christmas

Warnings: fem!reader, Christmas?, reader has the perfect family of our dreams so… sorry..😢

Genre: fluffy Christmas :)

Point of view: 2nd person

A/n: I have decided to reappear for the holidays… I’ve missed you guys AH! Finally doing requests like I promised to a month ago…😅 lmk if I should do a part two of the next day? Could be cute idk

————————————————————————————————————

————————————————————————————————————

Working at Smosh is great, so is working with your boyfriend, you essentially get to hang out and play games with the person you care for the absolute most.

Being an actor was always your dream, so having a steady acting job that also allows time for auditions on the side is perfect.

However, the one downside of working at smosh with your boyfriend is that your family already has… an idea of Spencer.

Would you say that you’re embarrassed? Absolutely not, you’ve always loved his humor, it was one of your favorite things about Spencer since the moment you met. In fact, it made you fall in love with him.

This isn’t the first impression you had hoped for though, neither you nor Spencer had control over their idea of him thus far due to the fact that you both weren’t even in the room when the first impression occurred.

countless nights you had spent awake at ungodly hours watching every video with you or Spencer from the point of view of your family.

Maybe this was obsessive and absolutely insane, but you couldn’t help it. Spencer had no idea about this, and you had no intention of telling him either.

Now, Spencer was coming to meet your family properly this Christmas, which was so wonderful and exciting yet terrifying and nerve wracking.

Your mother had promised you over the phone that they hadn’t all formed an opinion on him already, but you knew better than that.

Knock, knock.

You make your way towards the door, opening it to a smiling Spencer with takeout in hand. You smile back at him, anxiety seemingly dissipating out of your being at the sight.

Later into the night, you and Spencer were curled up on the couch, eating Chinese food, which is now placed on the coffee table, and watching “Family Guy” (his choice). His hand gently ran up and down against your arm while his head nuzzled against your neck.

“Only two days until Christmas.” Spencer stated, moving to look over at you. He studied your expression, it was hard to tell what you were feeling.

You nod, “I know, are you excited to finally meet my family?” You say this in a joking tone, but a part of you is searching for a real answer.

He adjusts his glasses slightly before speaking, “well, if they’re anything like you, then no.” This lightened your mood, while also getting an eye roll out of you.

Both of your laughs echo through your apartment, you push him off of you playfully. “No- okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He laughs, pulling you back towards him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Okay, you want my serious answer?”

You nod.

“Yes, I am excited, if not a little frightened to be completely honest.” He admits.

You shake your head, running your fingers gently through his curls. “Spence, you don’t have to be scared. My mom loves everyone and my dad pretty much thinks you’re the funniest guy alive already.”

Spencer tilts his head, “he does?“

“Yeah.”

“Has he, like… watched our videos?” You could tell this freaked Spencer out a little, one could only imagine which insane jokes he was beginning to regret.

You didn’t want to bring it up or say anything, this was supposed to be something you exclusively stressed about. You knew the second Spencer heard this he would start overthinking.

“Hey, I know that look. Stop it. Yes, they all watch the channels. They really do seem to love it, though.” You scoot closer to him, tucking your legs under you so you can face him. “You will see, my brother is just like me, they’re used to the humor.”

He still looks stunned, despite your reassurance. “Yeah, okay.”

You let out a sympathetic laugh, “aw, buddy, I promise it’s gonna go fine.” You pull his head into your chest, rubbing his back to comfort him, the last thing you wanted was for him to get into his own head.

“Why do I have to make so many misogynistic jokes?” He sigh, laughing at his own immaturity.

“They know it isn’t real, it’s very obvious. Besides, we can worry about that in a few days. For now let’s just relax.”

-time skip, Christmas Eve-

You arrived at your parents house in the evening, the chill breeze hitting your cheeks as you stepped out of your car. Your scarf was assisting in keeping your face warm, although it did not quite suffice.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, closed the car door behind you just as he had opened it before to let you out. As you made your way up the door, Spencer’s grip tightened around your hand.

You knock, this is it.

Your mother pulls the both of you in for a tight hug, something Spencer hadn’t expected by the look of his eyes widening.

“Oh, you must be Spencer! It’s so good to see you both!” She holds on for a bit too long, “don’t be shy, come in! Oh, (y/n), I have so much to tell you about your aunt Carol! Her hair is bright purple.” She looked at you like it was the most serious news she’d ever relayed.

You chuckle, looking back at Spencer. “It’s nice to see you too, mom.” You guide Spencer into the warm house.

“Thank you so much for having me, you have a lovely home.” Spencer says with a nervous smile.

“Oh, don’t be so formal! Spencer, why don’t you go into the living room, I need (y/n)’s help in the kitchen.” She begins pulling you away as you shoot your boyfriend an apologetic yet reassuring look.

Spencer was now stranded, he sat on your parent’s couch hesitantly. He didn’t want to see like he was making himself too at home. For a few minutes alone, Spencer pondered his next interactions with your family.

He was interrupted when a large man entered the room, “my boy!” Spencer looked around as to say ‘who, me?’ And once he realized he was the only one in the room he stood. “Well, I assume you’re the famous Spencer Agnew? The one dating my daughter?”

Spencer immediately swallowed, now realizing that he was meeting your father for the first time. “Oh- yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” He nodded.

Your father approached Spencer, towering over him, as most do. Spencer looked up at the man, he reached out his hand to shake. Spencer immediately reciprocated.

“Nice to meet you too, although I feel like I already have. I’ve seen the videos, you’re a funny kid.” He plops onto the couch, putting his feet up on the ottoman.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Spencer smiles, gently sitting down on the sofa as well.

An awkward silence.

Spencer searches for something to say, anything. He hates when his mind goes blank during conversation, which never happens when he’s comfortable and with people he knows well, he is not used to this.

“So, the weather-“

“Okay, dinner is ready.”

Saved by the bell, you and your boyfriend sit around the table with your family. Your younger brother now joins you for the meal, steak and potatoes.

“This is really good, mom.” You compliment her before taking a sip of your wine. You ask your brother, “how’s school?”

“Pretty good, Jeremy finally traded me that Pokémon card I wanted.” Before you know it, him and Spencer are engaged in a thrilling conversation, ending in him promising to look at your brother’s card collection after dinner.

You can see in your father’s eyes how much he admires the fact that Spencer is entertaining this, your brother was hard to get along with so when he likes someone it’s meaningful. Not many people are willing to accommodate his special interests and demanding attitude, but Spencer had always been very patient with children… and with you.

“So, you two met through work? That’s how your grandparents met, you know. They always said ‘if you can work together without killing each other, you’re ready for marriage.’ Oh, I can just picture you walking down the aisle in that dress you cut out in that little scrap book of yours. I know, I said I wouldn’t snoop anymore but I can’t help it! Besides, it would look beautiful on you. Speaking of weddings, did you get the invitation for your cousin Linda’s engagement party? Guess who she didn’t invite? Aunt Jane! Oh, I still just have so much to tell you, but I digress. Honey, could you pass me the salt?”

The other four of you at the table exchanged glances for a moment, holding in your laughs. Your mother had always been a rambler, it was nice to get Spencer in on that family inside-joke now.

After dinner, and the Pokémon card museum, you both unloaded your luggage with the help of your father and headed upstairs toward your childhood room.

As you said goodnight to your parents, You felt a weight lift off. It’s over, and it went amazingly.

You and Spencer were alone now, you looked at each other and both sighed. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“No, you’re right,” he brings you in for an embrace, “that went super well. Thanks for bringing me.”

“Of course, Spence. I feel closer to you now that I’ve shown you a big part of my life.” You pull away, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Me too, that was fun.” His gaze shifts to the room around you. “It might be hard for the both of us to fit in that twin bed though.”

You grimace, “yeah, I didn’t think about that…”

Spencer makes his way through the room, studying each surface. “What’s this? Ooo, the famous wedding scrapbook!” He smirks at you, giggling to himself.

“Spencer, put that down! I’m serious.”

[arc-misadventures]

I Don't Want To Take That Class...

Today was now, Jaune's second day at, Beacon Academy for, Beast Masters. And, Jaune's school experience was so far: Not that great.

Well, at least today he could learn what his classes would be. Beacon had a system where on the first day of school students would orient themselves with the school, get settled into their room, but most importantly they would show off their, Spiritual Beasts so the teachers knew what monster they had, and how to best teach them to master their, Spiritual Beasts powers.

Jaune wasn't sure what he would be learn, considering, Salem's powers were so fast, and how certain members of the teaching staff were giving him, and more importantly, they were giving, Salem some very questionable looks. Particularly, Headmaster Ozpin.

Salem had told, Jaune about her rather interesting past with the man. Only the brief rundown of things, but he figured it would be for the best if she explain everything in detail. Less he walked into something he didn't want to be in.

~~~

Jaune: Okay... Where am I...?

: Oh, hi, Jaune!

Jaune: Hmm? Oh hey, Ruby.

Ruby: Here to find out what classes you're in?

Jaune: Yeah. Have you found out what classes you're in?

Ruby: Yep!

Jaune: Can you tell me what classes you have? Maybe we have one in common.

Ruby: Sure! I have classes for, Shadow, and Wind magic. But, since you are omni-elemental we'll probably have the same classes. You're probably have the same classes as everyone.

Jaune: Probably. I'll also be in the flight class since I can... well: Fly. Regeneration though... yeah...

Ruby: C-Can you actually regenerate...?

Jaune: Yes.

Ruby: Are you going to elaborate?

Jaune: Do you really want to know how that works?

Ruby: ...

Ruby: No...

Jaune: Smart lass.

Ruby: Okay, but can you tell me about.. Ooph?!

: There you are, Rubes! I've been looking all over for you!

Jaune was taken aback as an older, far more well endowed blonde woman put, Ruby in a headlock, and started giving her a little noogie.

Ruby: Yang?! Stop it!

Yang: Alright, alright I'll stop. I'll... Oh? Well hello~! You must be, Jaune Arc, the guy with the, Spiritual Deity!

Jaune: Yep, that's me. And, you are...?

Yang: Yang Xiao Long! This little twerps big sister! It's a pleasure to meet you!

Jaune: Pleasure.

Yang held out her hand for a hand shack, and Jaune moved his hand to shake it. But, it stopped when her hand was slapped away from his. Yang, and Ruby turned to look at her hand utterly perplexed. All the while, Jaune turned to left as he scowled at the air.

Jaune: Why did you do that? It was just a handshake!

Yang: Uhhh...?

Jaune: We just met her, what's so untrustworthy about her?

Yang: Who is he talking to?

Ruby: Oh! He's talking to his, Spiritual Beast!

Yang: They can talk to each other?

Ruby: Yeah, they do it all the time!

Yang: That's true? I thought that was just a joke?!

Ruby: It's true! Although, Jaune does look a little crazy since he's talking to 'nothing.'

Yang: Yeah, that does look a little...!?

Jaune: What?! Just because she's wearing a midriff, and showing off her belly does not mean she's a harlot?!

Yang: The fuck did you just call me?!

Jaune: Nothing! I did not call you anything at all! Salem called you a harlot though...

Yang: You wanna go missy?!

Yang pointed in the air, as she challenged a god to a fist fight.

Jaune: She's behind you.

Yang: Eh? OWW?!

Yang turned around, and then reeled back as she felt someone's finger flicked her forehead.

Yang: D-Did she just flick my forehead...?

Jaune: Yeah, sorry about that. Salem is... possessive to say the least. She doesn't like it when other girls get too close to me.

Yang: Sounds like a possessive wife.

Jaune: If you knew why she's so possessive of me... you... you wouldn't blame her... that much.

Yang: Are you going to tell me?

Jaune: Best you don't know. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to learn what my classes will be.

Jaune quickly left to go see what classes he was placed into, leaving the sisters alone.

RY: ...

Yang: Well... He seems like a pretty nice guy... It's a bit weird to have an invisible girlfriend batting everyone away from him though.

Ruby: She's actually his wife!

Yang: Really?

Yang: It's still weird that she does that.

Ruby: Yeah it is weird...

~~~

Jaune: Do you see my name on any of these lists, Salem?

Salem was floating over head the crowd of students, searching for her beloveds name among the. She was phasing through the ones who were to close to the board overhead for those she couldn't see.

Salem: Afraid not my love. I've scoped all of these lists, and I haven't found your name on any of them.

Jaune: That's not good...

Salem: Oh, and why is that?

Jaune: Because of you, Salem, it means that they've no doubt come up with a special class of some sorts exclusively for me... And, since i am one of the rare few to have a, Spiritual Deity as my, Spiritual Beast they'll want to run some tests on us.

Salem: Are you sure of that?

Jaune: It's been over four thousand years since the first person became a, Spiritual Beast Master. And, since there have only been just over two dozen, Spiritual Masters who have formed a bound with a, Spiritual Deity. And, to make matters worse, I am the first person you've ever formed a bound with. They are going to run some tests on us.

Salem: These tests... I will have to show myself before them then... This feels like a trap...

Jaune: But, is it for me, or is it for you?

Salem: That doesn't matter! You are my husband! If they come after one of us, then are coming after the both of us, and if they dare harm so much a single golden lock of hair from your head, I will introduce them all, I will remind, Ozma of what is a, Spiritual Deity's FURY!

Jaune watched as a whirlwind of elemental powers swirled around, Salem. Fire, ice, lighting, earth, shadows, and light rage in a kaleidoscope of raw power hang in the air about her. It was a beautiful sight to behold, his beloved showing off the full range of her powers.

To him that is.

Jaune: Salem, you look beautiful, honey. But, everyone is looking at me like I'm crazy since they can't see the, Oni Queen making a storm of elemental powers in the air, they just see the elemental storm ball.

Salem: Eh...?

Salem looked to her side seeing a crowd of students looking on, some in awe, others in fear.

Salem: Whoops...

The storm slowly faded away as, Salem nervously floated down in front of, Jaune. She bashfully looked away from him as a fierce blush was spreading across her face.

Salem: Sorry...

Jaune: It's okay, Salem. It was a good way to flex on everyone.

Jaune rubbed his hand along, Salem's cheek as she swooned into his hand. This loving moment between couples was swiftly brought to the end, when the were interrupted when someone unexpected appeared.

: That you are, Mr. Arc. Lady, Salem...?

Standing before them was the deputy headmistresses of, Beacon Academy. Who looked rather cross...

Jaune: Hi, Professor Goodwitch! C-Can we help you with anything?

Glynda: Can you.. two come with me. Headmaster Ozpin wishes to have a word with you.

Jaune: About our classes?

Glynda: Yes, since you have made a contract with a, Spiritual Deity we've had to come up a unique set of classes for you to do.

Jaune: I expected as much...

Glynda: Will you come with me so we may discuss it?

Jaune: Alright then... We'll come...

Salem: Are you sure this is a wise idea, Jaune?

Jaune: Nope, but what else can we do?

Salem: Improvise?

Jaune: That'll work...

~~~

"Ding~!"

The elevator doors slowly opened, and Jaune, and Salem were greeted to the sight of a trio of teachers, Jaune didn't want to see.

Before him was, Professor Peach, Dr. Oobaleck, and lastly, Headmaster Ozpin.

Out of the three, Professor Peach was the one, Jaune was the least suspicious about. She was a medical doctor, so she was probably here to see about his regeneration abilities. He could understand her curiosity about that, everyone was curious when it came to his regenerative abilities. However, based upon how she wanted to test these abilities, that's where he started to grow cautious of her.

Dr. Oobaleck put, Salem's nerves on end, and in turn, Jaune's as well. He was a scientist, so of course he was curious about the capabilities of, Salem's powers. But, Jaune had read enough science fiction books, and shows to know that the most dangerous scientist there is, is the one who was trying to test the bounds of science, and no one was there to tell them this one simple thing: "No."

So many terrible events that happened because science gone crazy could have been solved if someone just said, "No, bad scientist, no!"

And, lastly he had, Headmaster Ozpin. Out of the three, Jaune was most cautious of this man. Salem had told him plenty of things about, Ozpin, and the results of his, Spirit Curse. So, unless everyone didn't behave. Things were going to become very bad, very, very quickly.

~~~

Ozpin: Ahh... Hello, Mr. Arc. Do you know why we brought you here today?

Jaune: Considering that I didn't see my name on the list of classes, I assume you asked me here to tell me what my classes are?

Ozpin: You are correct, Mr. Arc. Because of your unique circumstances, being partnered with a, Spiritual Deity, and all. Along with your wide variety of spiritual powers, we had to come up with some unique classes to teach you, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: I expected as much... what classes will you be teaching me?

Ozpin: Well, start with, Professor Peach. Professor?

Peach: Thank you... Hello, Mr. Arc, I am Professor Padma Peach. We won't be having too many classes together. Mostly we'll be having tests.

Jaune: Trying to determine the capabilities of my, Regeneration abilities?

Peach: Why, yes! I am most looking forward to learn how that ability of yours works!

Jaune: That's one of us...

Ozpin: Bart.

Oobaleck: Hello, Mr. Arc! My name is, Doctor Bartholomew Oobaleck! I will be teaching you how to control your basic elemental powers! Earth, fire, water, and air! I have never taught an omni elemental before! My fellow teacher, Peter Port will also be assisting me during your teaching! He was busy monitoring the students so he couldn't be here! But, I can assure you, he is most excited to teach you as well!

Jaune: O-Okay...?

Ozpin: And, lastly, Mr. Arc, I will be teaching you how to use your light, and dark magical powers. We will be dividing these class for three to be spent learning ight, and dark magic, and the rest will be spend on your other elemental powers. Professor Peach will only be available during your other elemental powers. But, that should offer her enough time to study your regeneration capabilities.

Ozpin: We will be sending you a timetable of these, and your various other classes you will be taking. We look forward to teaching you, Mr. Arc!

Jaune took in his words with a grain, no, a heap of salt. Professor's Port, and Peach, and Doctor Oobaleck all teaching him in tandem made sense, he was omni elemental after all. But, having a class all alone with, Ozpin.

Jaune mulled over this news, but as he looked to the side, and came to a simple conclusion.

Jaune: I don't want to take that class, Headmaster... No, I won't be taking that class...

Ozpin: Excuse me?

Jaune: Deputy Headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch already teaches classes on dark, and light magic, I want her to teach me those classes, not you.

Ozpin: What are you talking about, I am the most skilled teacher of those elements the world over. I can assure you, I can help you master those powers.

Jaune: And, I can assure you, Headmaster... We will not be taking any classes with you...

Ozpin raised his mug to his face to take a drink, but paused as he took in his wrods.

Ozpin: 'We?'

(Smash.)

Ozpin: What was...?

Ozpin dipped his drink to far, and his drink spilled out of his mug. But, instead of a splatter of how bean water, a solid chunk of coffee ice fell out, and shattered on top of his desk.

Ozpin: What the?!

Ice. Ice emanated from the floor around, Jaune. The temperature in the room fell rapidly, one could see their air as they breathed. For all, but one that is. Jaune stood before, Ozpin, his body was at ease, calm. He didn't seem to be bothered by the coldness building in the room, or it didn't appear that the cold was affecting him at all.

Jaune: Now you've done it, Headmaster...

Ozpin: Done... Done what?

: Not taking my 'hint!'

Within a fraction of a second, The Oni Queen, Salem appeared before Ozpin. She was floating in the air before him, a calm smile played across her lips as the tempest of the storm loomed over the, Headmaster.

Ozpin: Hint... What hint...?

Salem: You think I flicked your forehead as some sort of 'playful teasing?' Hmm...?

Salem cocked her head to the side, her voice was loud for all to hear. Jaune could tell she without seeing her face that she was giving him a cold, an emotionless toothy smile. And while, Jaune knew she had a beautiful smile, it was a predators smile. She bore fangs that could rip through metal with ease, and when she showed off her fangs, the likely hood she was threatening you was very, very high.

Salem: No, that was a warning... a warning to tell you to keep your hands to yourself...

Ozpin: Keep my hands to myself...?

Salem: Yes. For it has come to my attention that you do not seem to remember why you were cursed with immortality. And, we are all too willing to remind you of why that all happened. But, if you dare touch a single hair on my lovers head. I will show you why my daughter held me back the last time you received divine punishment! Understood, Ozma.

Ozpin's body has slowly begun to freeze to his chair as, Salem lowered the temperature more, and more to the point his, Aura's protective barrier was failing to withstand the extreme cold. With a shaky, and cold breath, he answered her.

Ozpin: O-O-Okay...! I-l-l-leave you two alone!

Salem: Good~! Now then...

Salem soon floated over, and appeared before, Glynda, the pair locked eyes before, Salem gave, Glynda a toothy half smile, before she returned to address, Ozpin.

Salem: Glynda here will be teaching, Jaune how to master his light, and dark magic works. Understood?

Ozpin: Y-Y-Yes...

Salem: Good~! Now, let go, Jaune. I'm done with this worm.

Jaune: Alright then. Goodbye, Ms. Goodwitch, Professor, Peach, Doctor Oobaleck. I look forward to seeing you in class.

With that the pair walked into the elevator, and left. Leaving behind the three freezing, and frozen teachers behind.

Glynda: Ozpin... I do not care for whatever schemes you are planning, but I will take you down before she gets a chance to if you push things too far! Understood?

Ozpin: P-Perfectlly... Miss Goodwitch.

Glynda: Good!

Ozpin: Now then... B-Bart?

Oobalek: Yes?

Ozpin: Can you call, Port up here at once... I-I-I'm frozen, and can't move...?!

Oobaleck: On it!

Well, Jaune now would have his class schedule, and Salem had given, Ozpin's final warning. The school year was finally about to begin for real!

Hopefully things didn't go to hell too quickly...

[mrsshabana]

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 ✧ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ꔫ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, fluff

ꔫ Note Happy Holidays everyone! I haven't had much time to write lately since I'm moving. But I wanted to give you guys a little something for the holidays! ଘ( ･ω･)_/ﾟ･:*:･｡☆

Gyutaro always hated Christmas.

He's a demon now so it's not like the holiday is meant for him, but even as a human he hated it. The holiday just served as a reminder of everything he never had. Family, gifts, food, love. It just wasn't fair.

After he turned into a demon he took it upon himself to celebrate Christmas in his own special way. Scouting out the rich neighborhoods to find his own Christmas feast.

It was sadistic, but that's Gyutaro's idea of fun. He enjoyed torturing those who were more fortunate than himself, of course. But in a way, he also felt like he was enacting revenge for those who weren't strong enough to do it themselves. All of the orphans and poor children who spent Christmas night out on the cold streets of the entertainment district.

It became a Christmas tradition for Gyutaro. But things changed when he met you.

He first noticed you when he heard your voice through his sister's ears. It sounded heavenly, instantly waking him from his slumber. And by the elegant kimono you wore, he guessed you were just another rich woman. Destined to spend Christmas in some mansion surrounded by loads of gifts. It infuriated him.

So, that year you became his target.

And on Christmas Eve he followed you home, only to see something that surprised him. You weren't rich, no, far from it. You lived in a small home on the outskirts of town. Your home was not decorated in the slightest and you didn't even have a Christmas tree.

"This can't be right... a girl as pretty as her can't spend Christmas alone," he grumbles to himself. He decided to stay and watch you for a while, figuring that you must have a rich boyfriend or something like that.

But no. No one came and you opened no gifts. The pretty girl that Gyutaro was previously jealous of, spent the entire night by herself.

You were the first person to surprise Gyutaro in a very long time. The first person with a beautiful face who didn't have a life to match it. Behind closed doors, you lived a life full of sadness and loneliness. Though at work and in front of others you always wore a smile, never wanting anyone to worry about you.

But you couldn't hide the truth from Gyutaro. He continued to watch you from the shadows even after Christmas had long passed. Stalking you from rooftops, listening to your voice through his sister's ears, watching you up close from her eyes. He actually smiles when you're around.

And when Christmas comes once again he can't help but feel like it's a shame that you don't know about him. That you don't know that there's someone out there who loves you. Someone you've never even met.

A part of him wants to finally reveal himself and confess his feelings. But what if you reject him? What if you're disgusted by his ugliness like everyone else is? He wouldn't be able to go on if something like that happened. Maybe he'd snap and just kill you. He knows himself, and he knows that's something he'd probably do. So instead he decides not to reveal himself for now. However, he still wants to do something for you. Something to let you know that you aren't as alone as you may think.

You got an extra shift at work, hoping to work as much as possible so you could forget what time of year it was. But you had to go home eventually.

You take the alleyways home, wanting to avoid the main streets so you don't have to see the Christmas lights or hear the Christmas carols. You just want December to end already so things can be back to normal. So you don't have to remember the painful memories that this holiday brings.

As you approach your home you immediately notice that something's off. There is a faint glow in your window. But that can't be right. You know you couldn't afford any lights or decorations. And even if you could, you wouldn't have spent any money on them.

Hesitantly, you open the door. And nothing looks out of place or stolen. But there is a small tree in your living room.

It looks like it was torn out of the ground because the roots are still attached and there is frost on its leaves. It's propped half-hazardly against the wall. Sloppily decorated with red ribbons and random trinkets.

On the floor is a single candle, a note, and a crudely-wrapped box.

Did someone seriously break into your home to give you a tree and a Christmas present? This has to be some kind of joke right?

You're skeptical, but you decide to open the note anyways and give it a read.

"Dear Y/N,

You don't know me but I know you. I think you are very pretty. I am always here, even if you don't know it. You aren't as lonely as you think. Merry Christmas.

-Love G"

The handwriting is barely legible and what you can read sounds slightly creepy, like you might have some kind of stalker. But you can tell that whoever did this genuinely cares for you. Creepy or not. And your heart warms up at the thought that someone went out of their way to do this for you.

With teary eyes, you open the gift. Inside the small box is a beautiful bracelet with brilliant emeralds. You've never received such a thoughtful gift.

You hold the bracelet close, clutching it to your chest as tears stream down your cheeks. Overcome with gratitude and appreciation for this person that you don't even know. Yet they were so kind to do this for you anyway. Not even wanting to reveal themselves to receive praise and love, no. They just wanted you to be happy. They couldn't care less if you knew who it was really from. Seeing that smile on your face is more than enough for them.

"Thank you...," you mumble.

You don't receive a response but you can feel that someone is watching from the shadows, with a big toothy grin on his face.

[mattsbows]

ribbons and lace ౨ৎ sam golbach

in which. . .you give sam a little punishment for claiming something is "too girly"

smut, sub!sam, bondage, use of pet names (both sweet and demeaning), oral (m), edging, grinding

1.2k words

you were by far the girliest person anyone had ever met. your entire closet was a combination of pinks, white, and soft greys. your and sam’s bedroom looked more like your bedroom, considering the circle bed, plushy pink comforter, and the girly knick knacks that were strewn around the room. 

this usually wasn’t a problem. sam didn’t mind the fact that it looked like a boutique had exploded in your house. you were happy and that was all he cared about. however, he was a boy, after all. sometimes he wanted to do…well, guy things, which was rather hard in your hyperfeminine home. 

“sweetheart, do we have any, uh, non hello kitty cups?” he asked you gently, looking through the cabinets. 

“i don’t think so. why?” you questioned, looking up from the ulta catalogue that you were currently circling your wishlist in. 

“well, uh…”

you cocked your head at sam’s hesitation. “go on.”

“it’s just that these glasses are a bit girly to drink a beer out of. that’s all.” he mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his reddening neck. 

you blinked, a smirk growing on your face. “too girly, huh?”

“baby,” sam started. “it’s not a bad thing! i just wanted something a little more guylike.”

you folded your catalogue, feigning irritation. what you really felt though, was a spark of attraction and excitement. “bedroom. now.”

“but i didn’t mean it like-” sam was cut off by you grabbing his wrist, a coy smile on your glossy pink lips. 

“i suggest you get your pretty little ass to the bedroom right now, or you won’t cum for two weeks. got it?” you teased. 

sam blushed at your words, nodding softly. he knew better than to argue with you. it wouldn’t get him what he wanted. the blond dropped his head quietly, making his way to the bedroom. he knew you would follow in time, the best thing to do now was be patient for whatever awaited him.

you waited a few beats before entering the bedroom, noting sam on his knees on the bed. “good boy.” you smiled

sam whined at your statement as you sat beside him, rubbing your hand along his upper thigh. his dick was already starting to harden from you teasing him, and your rubbing wasn’t helping. 

“‘m gonna show you just how feminine i can get, baby boy,” you cooed with fake sweetness. “c’mon. be a good little thing and strip.”

your boyfriend did as told, slowly removing his shirt and pants until he was left in just boxers. you stared at him with a watchful eye, not even needing words to embarrass the boy. 

“sammy needs to learn his lesson, huh?” you tutted, straddling his lap. “needs to be shown what having a smart mouth will get you.” you grinned, beginning to grind on his covered cock.

“f-fuck…�� sam whimpered quietly. “i’m sorry. didn’t mean to talk back. shit.” he whined.

you began to dry hump sam harder, your skirt-covered hips bucking against his own. the blond had his head thrown back, little whines and grunts leaving his lips as he gripped the hem of your shirt. he was so painfully hard that it hurt. 

just as you felt sam’s cock twitch with oncoming orgasm, you moved off his lap. “you didn’t think you were getting off that easy, did you?” you chuckled. 

the blond whined, his lower lip jutting out. “need to cum…” he whined, dick so painfully hard.

“awww, too bad. i’m not done having my fun,” you shrugged. “on your back.”

sam did as told, knowing the faster he obeyed you, the faster he would get the sweet release he had been chasing just moments prior. he had brought this upon himself, after all. as soon as his back hit the pink pillows, you spread his legs, pulling his boxers down his legs. as soon the material was off, his dick sprung up, red, hard, and glistening with pre cum. 

“you gonna be a good boy?” you questioned. 

he nodded eagerly, needing to feel your touch on his body once more. “y-yes. promise.” he mumbled, looking up at you with those blue puppy eyes. 

“so you’ll let me tie you up, huh? let me use you however i please?”

sam nodded eagerly, willing to do practically anything to have you touch him. you smiled at his compliance, bouncing off the bed and skipping over to your vanity. you dug around in the drawers for a moment, before pulling out two spools of ribbon; one lacy and one silky pink. 

before sam knew it, you were gracefully tying his hands and feet together using the ribbon. to make the punishment extra sweet and ironic, you made sure to finish the bonds with bows, giggling at your work. “not too girly now, huh baby?” you said, voice dripping with false sympathy.

“‘m sorry.” the blond whined gently, cheeks reddening at the situation. 

you hummed gently, beginning to suck and lick at his cock. your large doe eyes fluttered innocently, your falsies batting against your blushed cheeks. sam groaned as the stimulation made him ache with pleasure. he needed to grab onto something. the more he whined, the faster you went, taking him until his dick hit the back of your throat. 

“shit,” sam whimpered, wriggling in his pink, lacy ties. “need to…need to cum.”

as soon as your boyfriend said that, you pulled off with a pop, sitting back on your legs and glaring at him sweetly. “beg for it, sam. i know you can do it.”

“please,” he moaned, stomach clenching with the need for orgasm. “please let me cum.”

“no. you wanted to act like a little brat, now you’re getting treated like one.” was your short answer before you were back to teasing him, the flat of your tongue running along the underside of his dick. 

sam whined, the ache from being edged becoming so powerful that tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes. he couldn’t even grasp the sheets to control himself, hands still bound with your ribbons. “fuck…oh, mmm…” he moaned. 

finally, you pulled off, looking up at him with a smile. “have you been a good boy, sweetheart?” you asked, reaching up to caress his sweat-dampened cheek. 

your boy nodded eagerly as a tear ran down his face. “mhm. been a good boy. ‘m sorry for misbehaving.”

you grinned, patting his cheek. “you’re such a whore, baby. you know that? go ahead,” you purred, starting to stroke his aching cock. “cum for me.”

sam was so sensitive from being edged repeatedly that he came with just a few pumps of your hand. he cried out repeatedly as the warm, white substance coated your hand, finally giving him the release he’d been craving. as soon as he was finished, your boyfriend laid back against the pillows, panting heavily. 

you kissed sam’s forehead, before wiping your hand off with a wipe from your nightstand and moving to untie his binds. “did you learn your lesson, love?” you asked, the mean demeanor you had given him just moments prior now gone. 

the blond nodded his tiredly, beyond worn out. “yeah. i guess girly stuff isn't that bad.” he mumbled, going red again. 

“damn right it isn’t, sweetheart.”

a note from the author: hey so me and @tyummyz were insane for this idea! enjoy<3

❁ tags: @mattsdemi @purpledragon222 @slxtarchive @natashad0627 @quinnynation @tyummyz @colorthecosmos444 @lockettesroom @mattyblover07 @marrykisskilled @beautyloves @nicksbestie

[earlycuntsets]

"mikey way

"me and gerard, we're the best friends in the world"

Once again, we meet Mikey Way. But this time this guy talks soooooo much. Hi hi hi! Never thought Mikey could be this chatty!

Long coat and black jeans, that's the outfit worn by Mikey Way when he met W at the Malia Hotel, Thursday afternoon, January 31, 2008. Wow, he looked really neat. But when watching MCR's concert a few hours later, it turned out that Mikey was also wearing the same costume, he he he. It's very clear that his long coat and all-black jeans are not just a style but an important part of his identity.

Anyway… Mikey looked relaxed as he shook hands with W. As a small talk, W of course asked him what he thought about Jakarta. He answered honestly. "So far, great. But I haven't been here long. Only 12 hours, only half a day. So, you know." He said as he took a large white plastic cup of coffee from the table in front of him. His hands looked a little shaky.

Gosh, Mikey, the conversation has become so serious, huh, he he he. W reminds me that the name My Chemical Romance was taken from one of the books Mikey read when he was still working at Barnes & Noble bookstore, namely Ecstasy: Three Tales of Chemical Romance by Irvine Welsh. mentioned by Mikey, here. Wow, it seems so funny to imagine Mikey being a bookworm, huh? Apart from Gerard being the vocalist and frontman of My Chem, he is still Mikey's 'big brother'. So, let's just start asking about Gerard, shall we?

Mmm, maybe we can start with a question that's not too direct, huh…

What's the most annoying thing about Gerard?

"Him? There's nothing bad about him. Even if there's something annoying, it makes me love him even more. Ha ha. Even if there's something bad about him, it's endearing. Gera is a very talented and admirable individual."

What is the annoying side of you in Gerard's eyes?

"Me? Well, I don't know. Ha ha. Maybe you guys better ask Gerard directly, haha ​​ha."

Have you two ever fought?

"We have. It's natural. But not too often. In a few years maybe."

Can you tell us a little bit about how you and Gerard are actually brothers? what kind?

"We're the best friends in the world. We always hang out together. We always talk. Especially when we're on tour, we always share a room in a hotel. only once we fought, ha ha ha. We barely fight."

Do you still have time to read a book?

"Yes, I still am. Right now I'm reading Needful Things by Stephen King. This is actually my second time reading it, he he he."

Wow, you really like horror stories, huh?

"Ha ha ha, yes. I like horror novels and also horror movies. Stephen King is a great horror writer. Many of his books are horror themed. I really like Stephen King."

From early on, it seemed like Gerard did most of the talking.

"I only talk when necessary. Not only me, Frank, Bob and Ray have also. But more often than not we have to take care of our own musical instruments, so we leave that responsibility to Gerard, he he he."

Totally agree, Mikey Unfortunately, Gerard isn't there, hu hu hu!

On stage, Gerard is the same. Have you ever joined in the conversation with the audience?

"Well, yes sure. I have."

Anyway, really happy to chat with you. Lately, MCR has been using piano players a lot at concerts, huh?

"We do everything like other big bands do."

Are there plans to make James Dewees a permanent member of MCR?

Oh, James. He's already become My Chem family member since ama. Even though he is not a member of MCR, he is our friend. We have also known him for a long time. Besides, we like the sound of our concert piano. So, we keep using it.

Why, the hell, is the sound of the piano so important to MCR?

"Piano is the basis for all music. Since we know a cool piano player like James Dewees, we might as well include him in the line-up. Unfortunately, James is currently at sound check, so he can't be here."

My Chem, that's how Mikey shortens the name My Chemical Romance. Frankly, W also knows nothing, he he he. When asked when My Chem (yikes, I'm following Mikey) will release a new album, Mikey said it would be around early or mid 2009. Wow, that's still quite a long time away, huh. When W asked about My Chem's three previous albums, this guy remained enthusiastic, cas cis cus.(?)

Tell us about the metamorphosis from the first to the third album…

"Sure sure"

Album: Bullets

"We were still very young. We were in our early 20s and we had only been in the band for about 10 months. Every song that was created at that time was indeed in accordance with our condition at that time. If you listen to it, you will definitely feel the nuances of My Chem now. The songs on the first album are like 'the younger brother of The Black Parade,

Is the creative process different?

"Let's see… The first album, / was really green, he he he. Gerard was also very young. We felt more spontaneous. The second album, Three Cheers… was more mature, more aggressive. The longer it went on, the clearer it became in The Black Parade. The difference was probably with the presence of Bob on drums. He is one of the phenomenal drummers. Many people say so. Because of Bob, The Black Parade seemed touching on many musical genres."

What if someone says that The Black Parade sounds smoother than previous albums?

"Technically, yes. The first album was made in the basement. The sound was rough. But eventually we had a bigger studio and had more time to prepare the material."

adhika annisa, marti photo: yudha

08/2008 kawanku (indonesia) from mcrhollywood

english translation done by google translate

[adult-kinda]

My Baby Alone

Warnings: mentions of death, hospitalization, comas, and disordered eating, chat this one’s angsty with a happy ending

In which Sunoo can’t leave yet…

300 days. For the past 300 days you had been visiting him. Every single day you made time to set aside your anxiety, enter that sterile building, and sit with him. You knew he wouldn’t respond. Everything in you said to let him go. The guys told you there was no hope and disbandment was in the works.

But you couldn’t. You weren’t going to give up so easily. Even if it was the tiniest voice in your soul begging you to stay.

“You would have loved to see the fans get well soon trucks today! They used your Not For Sale photos this time.” You said with a smile.

You knew he would be disappointed in you. You had lost a lot of weight and the sparkle in your eyes was gone. He would never have allowed this.

“Oh! And your photo cards are reselling for big prices too! Like thousands of dollars. The other members would be jealous.” You explained.

Once again nothing. Just the quiet beep from machinery.

“I’ve been putting in more hours. The company put out a statement announcing our relationship. I knew it’s what you would’ve wanted by now. So far not as much hate, but I try to distract myself. I’m working overtime most evenings.” You say referring to your job at the animal shelter.

The nurse stepped in the room and sighed.

“Y/N, darling, should we consider-“Don’t! Don’t even think about it.” You interrupted.

The nurse nodded and glanced at the body in the bed. Typically she wouldn’t push but it was nearing a year now. It was time.

“I know you don’t want to think about this, but it’s time. He’s not progressing.” She said.

You refused to answer her and waited for her to leave. Once she was finally gone and the door was shut you broke down. You had done so well with not crying while you were here but the possibility of losing him, it was too much.

“Why! Why would you leave me? You can’t do that!” You shouted.

Your pleas fell into the abyss of the fluorescent lights. But they weren’t unheard.

Sunoo heard you. He desperately wanted to get to you, to respond. But he was locked in and could not make his way out. He was banging on doors through an endless hallway praying someone would open.

“I thought you loved me!” You cried.

I do, princess! I do!

“Why do you insist on leaving?”

I’m trying to come back! I’m gonna find you!

“I love you so much!”

I love you too! Hold on just a little more!

When he was met with silence he assumed you’d left. But then you entered one more time. This time two other voices were with you as well as more on a mobile device.

“It’s time to let him go.” You said sorrowfully.

No! No! No!

“Are you sure? We can give you more time to say goodbye.” A male voice said.

“It’s alright, father. I think this is what he would have wanted.” A digital voice confirmed.

No! No this is not at all what I want!

Finally. After all these days of running and searching a door opened. Sunoo was running through that door and toward an image. An image of you holding his hand.

“I love you so much.”

I love you too! I’m almost there!

Pressure. Before the doctor could proceed with anything you felt pressure.

“Stop!” You shouted.

Everyone paused. You had felt phantom touches before but this, this was certainly different.

“Miss Y/N-“No! He’s here! He squeezed my hand!”

The doctor sighed. “Y/N we’ve been over this. It could be in your he-“No! Look! Grab his other hand.”

The doctor humored you and grabbed his other hand.

“Sunoo! If you can hear me squeeze your left hand!”

To the doctor’s surprise he squeezed. Hard. That was unmistakable.

“Oh my word.” He muttered.

You smiled with tears of joy streaming down.

“We’ll be there in the next hour.” Jungwon said over the phone before cutting the line.

I’m almost there, baby!

Just as Sunoo was going to step into the image he felt a tug on his arm. It was an… angel? It was so human but had wings… it was him. Sunoo was faced with a reflection of himself in the purest of whites with majestic wings.

“Come with me, it’s time. You have so many people waiting to meet you up here! And there’s kpop idols too that you would get along with.” The reflection said.

Sunoo looked at him intrigued, but you were down there.

“Come, Sunoo. You have family on the other side. Moonbin is on the other side. Jonghyun is on the other side. Your pets are on the other side. Heaven is waiting on the other side.” He said trying his hardest to convince him.

Sunoo missed these things. He had always wished he could go back and experience these people, these memories one last time.

But you were not on the other side.

“No. I’m not leaving my baby.” He said before stepping into the image.

“Doc we have signs of brain activity!” The nurse exclaimed.

Everything went so fast. Nurses were working to make sure everything was prepped. The doctor halted all end of life protocols. The priest stood outside to pray over the room. You… well you sat patiently waiting for your boy to come back to you.

Apparently you were very patient because you remained there the entire night. The rest of the Enhypen members waited outside in the waiting area, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Good morning, Sunoo.” You greeted groggily.

You smiled when you felt a squeeze in your hand.

“I probably look a mess right now. I’m glad that you’re coming back. I’ve been missing you like crazy.”

Another three squeezes.

“Have you been missing me? I think about you seven days a week. I’ve never given up on you.”

You nodded in response to his pressure again.

“I’m excited to take care of you! You’ll stay in my apartment while you finish healing. I’ll make you all your favorite soups, hell I’ll even stock up on mint chocolate chip ice cream! I’ve been eating it since you’ve been gone, it reminds me of you.” You said with a giggle.

“I’ll be diligent. I’ll make sure you take all your medications and eat all your meals. I’ll do it all because I love you, Sunoo. I just need you to wake up for me.”

You ended your plea with a kiss on his lips. But this one was different. This time you could feel him kissing… back? There was no way! You pulled away in shock.

“My love.” Sunoo mumbled as his eyes slowly opened.

You gasped as you watched him come back to you. His eyes were opened, his voice was hoarse after not using it for so long. But none of that mattered to you. All that mattered was that he was alive.

“Sunoo!” You cried.

Sunoo saw you and gave his signature smile (albeit a little tired). “Hello my love.”

Your embrace was warm. Sunoo could get used to this again. You were so warm and loving, he knew he couldn’t afford for anyone else to hold you.

“You’re alive! You’re here and… oh Sunoo!” You sobbed into his chest.

Sunoo smiled and held you just as tightly. He had found you and was not going to let go.

He’d take your embrace over the wandering, the running through the hallway. And in the same breath he would do it all again if it meant he could spend lifetimes with you.

Heaven can wait.

[onlyymirknows]

When Jean Met Karina

My submission for Reijean Christmas Week, Day 1! Prompt: meeting each other's parents.

Read on AO3 (link)

Word Count: 7.1k AU: Modern, they're adults in an established relationship Genre: Angst w/ a happy ending (plus fluff and reijean banter) CWs: Reiner gets triggered, past emotional abuse, past character deaths (car accidents), past suicidal ideation, past homophobia, dropping of the f-slur

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Reiner handed Connie a small notebook, “Everything you need to know is in here but feel free to text me if you got any questions.” He leaned down and traced a small heart on the glass tank, leaving visible smudges. The small turtle near his fingertip glanced at its owner for a second before lazily paddling away to rest on some driftwood.

“I’ve watched him before, remember?” Connie reminded Reiner with a small, exasperated laugh, “He’s in good, capable hands. Don’t worry.”

Jean, noticing the way Reiner’s jaw clenched, squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulder. This was their first time leaving town for Christmas and thus the first time they had to get someone to pet sit in the winter. The scariest season for a reptile keeper.

“Babe, I know what you’re thinking but we specifically got you a native species so you don’t have to worry about the heat as much. Besides, he’s a tough little guy.” Jean forced a grin, hoping to mask his own tense mood. Reiner returned a small smile accompanied by a soft exhale. Bingo. 

Then Jean turned to Connie, “Thanks for watching Bertl for us, Con. We’ll text you when we’re on our way home.”

“No prob, guys,” Connie beamed while ushering the couple to the door, “drive safe and see you next year!”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

When Jean slid into the passenger seat of Reiner’s truck he noticed a text from Connie, “try not to lose ur mind on reiner’s crazy mom k?” He scowled.

“What’s wrong?” Reiner pulled his door closed and started buckling his seatbelt. He turned the key in the ignition, the car engine purring to life.

“It’s nothing,” Jean muttered while buckling his own seat. He fiddled with the air vents while Reiner picked out some music on his phone. When Last Christmas began playing Jean couldn’t help but shoot a glare at his boyfriend.

“What’s with that sour expression?” Reiner asked incredulously, “It’s literally the 21st of December.” After a pause he added, “There’s no Mariah Carey on this playlist, okay? Just let me have this, Jeanie.”

Sighing, Jean looked out the window at the now moving pavement. “Okay, but once we get through this I get to choose the next playlist.”

Reiner laughed. “Yeah, yeah. As if I was going to torture you with 8 straight hours of Christmas music.” He glanced at Jean for a second with a warm smile while they waited at the red light letting out of their apartment complex. “Y’know, I love you in spite of the fact that you hate fun sometimes.”

Jean cracked a genuine smile for the first time that day. Maybe he did hate what many people would consider fun but it was only because he had taste. Unlike most of these Christmas songs that felt gaudy and artificial. Yet it was hard to deny the joy they seemed to bring his boyfriend so Jean disregarded his own preferences in the second half of December. Sacrifice and all that.

Indeed, his high school friends were confused when he brought a more “lowbrow” guy back with him from college. Then they saw the way Reiner made Jean loosen up and it all made sense. Somehow Reiner could convince Jean to try something new or give another thing a second chance. As if the blond were a siren and Jean a sailor who never dreamed of diving into the ocean.

Sometimes diving into the ocean to swim with a beautiful siren meant meeting a shark. In this case her name was Karina Braun and, as far as Jean was concerned, she was his enemy. Someone to challenge and fend off and—

“We can’t keep avoiding this, Jean,” Reiner paused the Christmas playlist, “do you want to talk about it now or when we’re closer to my hometown?”

The question broke Jean out of his thoughts and he bristled once the words registered in his mind. “What’s there to talk about?”

Reiner didn’t say anything as he merged onto the interstate. Instead he looked over his shoulder to check his blind spot before roving his gaze between his mirrors.

Jean rubbed his eyes, yawning, his own gaze fixed out the passenger window. When Reiner’s silence continued after they’d settled into the flow of traffic he turned his head. He couldn’t help but frown seeing the way Reiner’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, digits clearly tensed. Knuckles turning white.

“Rei, you good?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ugh.” Jean crossed his arms with a huff. “Look, I know I’m not the best at hiding my frustration. But I also don’t see what there is to discuss when you know damn well how I feel. I would’ve rather invited your cousin to come visit us. If it weren’t for the mem—”

“Don’t,” Reiner cut in firmly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening further, “we shouldn’t talk about that. Not right now… Maybe after we swap.”

“Right,” the brunet replied hoarsely, cheeks red, shoulders aching from suddenly tensing them hard as stone. He bowed his head, ashy brown locks slipping down and obscuring his face from view.

“But I shouldn’t’ve suggested talking bout all this right now,” the blond grumbled, “I shouldn’t’ve even said anything to begin with but I’m a dumbass and… yeah.” Reiner turned the music back on, keeping his eyes glued to traffic the whole time.

The two sat unspeaking for a moment, allowing the dulcet tones of Andy Williams to fill the space. Was it really The Most Wonderful Time of the Year? It certainly didn’t feel like it and, well, Jean knew he wasn’t helping. 

Despite his genuine intentions to help, Jean recognized how his stubbornness and results driven mindset could push the envelope at times. Sometimes to the point of causing more harm than good. And selfishly, he didn’t want to alienate his favorite person, so,  as the next song began, he placed a gentle hand on Reiner’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.

“You’re not a dumbass,” Jean reassured, voice regaining its warmth, “I think you’re being proactive and I’m proud of you for how well you’re handling this situation in spite of my bad attitude.”

“As if you’re usually a ball of sunshine,” Reiner muttered, though Jean saw the way the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth twitched. “I guess I want you to at least try being nice. Just try. You know?”

“I will try,” Jean murmured, “but let’s talk about all this later so you can focus on the road. I think that’s a good idea.”

Reiner nodded, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. Jean turned up the stereo before reclining his seat and looking out his window. The snowy landscape rushed by, filling his vision with a blurred field of white. It was oddly beautiful. Mesmerizing, even. Maybe that’s why his eyelids felt so heavy… though it was probably just last night’s insomnia finally catching up to him.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

A sudden blast of cold air rushing into the cabin jolted Jean from his slumber. He looked up to see Reiner standing outside his open door and the expression on his boyfriend’s face instantly perked him up. Unbuckling himself he turned in his seat to tightly wrap his arms around Reiner who fell into the embrace with a shudder.

“I.. I’m so s-sorry for waking you, Jean,” Reiner whispered breathlessly into his ear, “I just… traffic slowed down to a crawl and I g-got this feeling that..”

Jean hushed him while running a hand up and down his back. Looking past to the world outside he noted they were in an empty parking lot attached to what was probably an office building. Perfect. He took a deep breath before turning his attention back to his partner. 

“It’s okay, I’m glad you woke me up. You did exactly what you’re supposed to, Rei. You did good. Really, really good.”

They stayed in each other’s arms for a couple of minutes while Reiner calmed his shuddering breath. When Jean felt that his boyfriend was sufficiently recovered he insisted on taking the wheel. Originally the two planned on each driving about half of the way there but Jean assured that he didn’t mind driving extra.

“You get full music privileges,” Jean announced as he buckled himself into the driver’s seat, “hell, even Mariah.”

“Jean… it’s o-okay..” Reiner protested while wiping his eyes, “you don’t have to listen to music you hate just for me.”

“But I want to,” he grinned and gave Reiner’s shoulder a playful shove, “I know you would do the same for me.”

“I think I already do that, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. I don’t really hate any of your music but obscure 80’s ska and Medieval French battle hymns aren’t my favorite,” Reiner hesitated, “sometimes I’m not really in the mood but… I mean…” he trailed off, his mouth forming into a thin line across his face.

“Let me guess, you don’t ask me to change it because you don’t want to be a bother?”

Reiner turned to look at Jean head on and nodded, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Jean huffed. Of course his self sacrificing boyfriend would listen to literally anything Jean wanted. It was true that Reiner was a lot less picky than him. Yet he also felt like a bit of an ass for never asking if Reiner actually enjoyed his more niche music choices.

He reached over to ruffle the hair on the back of Reiner’s head, rolling his eyes as he did so. “You gotta work on this with your therapist more, hon. I want you to tell me stuff like that. I’m here to please you as much as you’re here to please me. I expect some god damn equality in my relationship. Got it?”

The blond’s smile grew wider. “Loud and clear.”

Without another word, Jean leaned over the console while pulling Reiner towards him. Their foreheads connected with a gentle bump and a renewed smile on both of their faces. Jean tilted his head slightly, making a point to nuzzle the crook of his boyfriend’s nose. 

Reiner sighed contentedly in response. He lifted his hand to cup the side of Jean’s face before pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. A silent thank you from one to the other, sweet, but also vulnerable. Like a hesitant knock on the door of Jean’s world where Reiner sometimes felt out of place. Such as now when his emotions were still dizzying and fraught.

Recognizing the call, Jean pulled Reiner in closer, and began peppering kisses all over his face. Forehead, brows, nose, cheekbones, jaw, chin. And the lips, so many flurried pecks to Reiner’s chapped lips. Every one meant to convey the same thing—I want you. I love you.

“Aghh!” Reiner exclaimed through the attack. He let out wonderfully delighted laughs that set Jean’s soul alight with elation. “Mercy, mercy!”

After one final kiss on the mouth, Jean let Reiner go to lay back against the passenger seat. The blond heaved deep breaths, latent laughs slowly dying on his lips. “I love this side of you,” he mused while buckling himself in, “I’m honored whenever you let me see it.”

“Oh shut up,” Jean chuckled, “you make me sound like some humorless dolt.” He turned the key in the ignition then threw the car into reverse.

“Humorless dolt? Not at all. In I fact think you’re very clever,” Reiner replied smoothly, “witty, droll, piquant—”

“That’s enough, Cyrano. Now where do you want to stop for lunch?”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The rest of the drive was relatively smooth. Free flowing traffic, no heated discussions, and Reiner chose a music genre both of them could agree on—80’s glam metal. Jean liked the fashion and showmanship while Reiner appreciated the cheese and catchy hooks. It wasn’t until Jani Lane started singing about secrets he just couldn’t tell that the dreaded topic returned.

“Are you sure you’re okay pretending to be roommates in front of my family?” Reiner asked after turning down the stereo. His voice cracked at the end, prompting him to busy himself with his water bottle to soothe his scratchy throat.

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Jean sighed.

“Are you positive? We don’t have to keep it a secret if you really don’t want—”

“I’m positive, Reiner. It’s seriously not a big deal.”

“And you’ll try being nice, right?”

“Oh course,” Jean insisted, albeit gently.

“…Okay,” Reiner moved to turn the volume back up when Jean covered the dial with his hand.

“Do you not trust me, Rei? To keep my cool?”

“It’s not that I distrust you, Jean. You have a cool head. I mean, I was surprised when your friends mentioned how much you fought with Eren growing up.” The thought of teens Jean and Eren fighting brought a smile to Reiner’s face. “But I know how strongly you feel about my mom. I don’t really blame you, either, it’s just that she’s not actually a villain.”

“I know that,” Jean responded tersely in spite of himself. In his periphery he noticed the way Reiner winced and he sighed again. With a softer voice he added, “I understand that she’s a person.”

“But will you keep that in mind when she says something ignorant? Or even just a little frustrating?”

“Reiner, I promise you I will do everything in my power to make this experience as stress free for you as possible. Trust me.” Jean glanced over at his boyfriend with a smile before returning his attention to the road. They were back on surface streets by now, mere minutes away from the Braun household.

The front door of the house flew open upon their arrival, before Jean finished pulling into the driveway, even. It was a teenage girl absolutely beaming from cheek to cheek, eyes scrunched closed in joy. From the passenger seat Reiner let out a quiet gasp and, without a word, hopped out of the car to meet her.

“Reiner!” She squealed excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck and letting him lift her up from the ground. “I’m so happy you came!”

“And I’m so happy to see you again, Gabi. You’ve grown so much!” He gave her a twirl before setting her back on the ground, his own smile dazzling brighter than the strings of twinkling lights surrounding the open doorway. 

Jean hadn’t seen his boyfriend this happy in weeks and he couldn’t help but stare in grateful awe at the scene. Then his eye caught another figure approaching from inside of the house and his mood immediately soured. 

It was Reiner’s mother, Karina. She was short with drabby blonde hair, deep set eyes, wrinkles, and a very familiar nose. Not exactly the face of evil but he knew how looks could be deceiving.

Reiner turned and hugged her with what looked like a beat of hesitation. Jean quickly got out of the car to join them, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. He heard the tail end of a sentence on his approach that made his jaw clench.

“…you’ve gotten so big, Reiner.”

Thankfully he caught himself before his face formed into the nastiest scowl, remembering the promise he’d made minutes earlier. Besides, Jean reminded himself, maybe Karina didn’t mean anything negative by it when she called her son big. Perhaps it was a comment on the fact that Reiner had gotten into weight training since his last visit.

“Thanks mom,” Reiner replied with an awkward chuckle, “I started going to the gym more regularly. So uh, let me know if you need me to lift anything for you while I’m here.”

Okay, so he was right to give her the benefit of the doubt. Except then Jean’s resolve almost faltered yet again when Karina greeted him, leaning past Reiner and smiling at him.

“Ahh so this is your roommate Gene, I take it? It’s nice to meet you, dear.” 

Of course she said his name wrong. Fucking Gene, as if he were a pair of denim pants. His hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, preparing the most passive aggressive response possible when Reiner suddenly jumped in with a correction.

“No, mom. It’s Jean. Kind of like fawn but with a J.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed with wide eyes, “I’m sorry, I had no idea. It’s wonderful to meet you, Jean.” Her expression softened back into a smile as her gaze moved to Reiner’s truck. “How about we get everything inside? It’s starting to get chilly.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“So Jean’s bags should go into the guest room, then?” Reiner asked as they carried the last few things inside with them.

“No, dear, that’s where Gabi’s staying,” Karina responded, “your aunt and uncle are out of town on a couple’s trip with the Grices. I offered to let Gabi stay here.”

“Isn’t it great, Reiner?” Gabi hopped excitedly between each foot, practically jogging in place. “Just like old times! Remember how my parents and I would stay over for Christmas Eve and we’d all wake up together the next morning?”

Reiner nodded, “I do remember. You’d kick me out of my room and I’d sleep on the couch.” Though the wording sounded bitter the smile on his face indicated he felt quite the opposite. “So I’m guessing I’m on the couch while Jean’s in my old room? I’ll take my stuff to the living r—”

“Ahh, no,” his mother interrupted, “Falco will be on the couch.”

“Falco?” Jean found himself asking, trying to place the vaguely familiar name.

“My boyfriend!!” Gabi practically shouted. Reiner looked surprised before quickly recovering into a warm smile.

“Also a family friend,” Reiner elaborated, “his parents are the ones traveling with my aunt and uncle. I’m guessing my mother agreed to let him stay over, too.”

“I did, yes. He’s currently visiting his brother out of state but he’ll be here in a couple of days. I know it’s… unusual but do you mind sharing a room?”

“I don’t mind,” Jean replied, practically holding his breath. Was this for real?

Karina lowered her voice so only the two men could hear her, “Thank you. I obviously can’t let those two share a room, even if they’re both 18. It wouldn’t be decent.”

Oh. Of course it was a concern about the teenagers having sex. Jean held in a sigh while Reiner hurriedly ushered him upstairs to his childhood room, saying something to his mom about coming back down soon for dinner.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Looks like we lucked out,” Reiner muttered after closing the door shut behind him, “though I’m surprised she didn’t insist on finding me a sleeping bag so we didn’t have to share the bed.”

“Maybe she’s trying not to push her luck,” Jean sat down on said bed and looked around the room. Any decorations Reiner may have put up as a teenager were long gone. Her son had been out of the house for close to a decade at this point so perhaps that was warranted but it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Did you know your mom sanitized your room like this?”

Reiner shrugged and plopped down on the bed next to him. “No, but it doesn’t bother me, either. I don’t want to be reminded of the old days, anyway… it’s not like they were good.” As nonchalant as he probably tried to sound, the edge in his voice gave him away.

Jean frowned and wrapped an arm around Reiner’s shoulder, pulling him in for a sideways embrace. “Don’t say that, Rei,” he leaned over to whisper into his partner’s ear, “maybe you didn’t have any good days in this room but we wouldn’t be here right now if your entire life before college was exclusively miserable.”

“You’re right,” his boyfriend pressed their foreheads together gently, amber eyes closing, “I owed Porco a visit, anyways.” A single tear rolled down Reiner’s cheek as he took a shuddering breath, “Sometimes I can’t help but still feel like they’re both my—”

“Hey, hey, don’t go there,” Jean cut in, hands quickly cupping the other man’s face, “I… I understand, you know that. And I also get you can’t exactly help it sometimes but I’m also not gonna let you just say it. Because it’s not true. It was never true. Never.”

In his mind Jean thought the words he wouldn’t dare speak aloud right now. Not as Reiner began weeping quietly, tears seeping into the cracks between his own face and Jean’s supportive palms.

It’s not true, no matter what your mom told you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Over the next couple of days Jean found himself on high alert. Despite the fact that Karina never said anything outwardly hostile, he couldn’t help but notice her frequent attempts to get her son alone. As far as he was concerned, no good could come from such an interaction.

Thus he made sure to intervene every single time, practically gluing himself to Reiner’s hip. Somehow he managed to do so without any pleading expressions from his beau. No desperate glances silently screaming for Jean to behave.

Instead Reiner thoroughly enjoyed himself, catching up with his baby cousin and introducing her to Jean. Gabi, while initially a shock to the senses with her loud voice and frequent exclamations, quickly grew on him. She was spunky, reminding Jean of a younger version of himself.

All the while Karina stood on the sidelines, watching. Occasionally she made some attempt at joining in on the conversation but often failed to connect. Gabi also made some efforts to bring her in on some topic or another but the old hag was usually too clueless to contribute. Talk about satisfying.

Jean smiled every time she made eye contact with him, imagining how much Karina probably hated him for not letting her sink her claws into his man.

Everything changed when he woke up alone on the morning of the 24th. The moment he realized Reiner wasn’t there he grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 7:18, meaning he hadn’t grossly overslept. Then Jean noticed a text message from Reiner from around an hour ago.

“Gabi begged me to pick up Falco from the airport with her. Should be back before breakfast.”

He sighed in relief, happy that Reiner was occupied by Gabi and not his mother. Speaking of, Karina usually served breakfast around 8, meaning the three should be back soon. 

Jean got up from bed and commenced his morning routine: showering, brushing his teeth, skincare, and of course haircare. By the time he wandered downstairs in some comfortable clothes it was already 7:55. Reiner and the kids were due back any minute. He sat down at the kitchen table and did a crossword on his phone while he waited.

Karina stood by the stove cooking up something for all of them to eat. If Jean had to give her credit for something, it was her cooking. Even something as simple as scrambled eggs and bacon smelled absolutely divine coming out of her kitchen. Had she been any other person he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to learn her secrets.

“Here you go, Jean. I’ll pour you some coffee, too.”

A plate with some eggs, sausage, and toast suddenly appeared on the table before him. He looked up at her, surprised that she would serve him breakfast before everyone else was present. The past couple of mornings they always waited for everyone, no matter how much Gabi insisted she was dying of starvation.

As if reading his mind Karina spoke up again, “Gabi told me they were running late and would grab breakfast on the way home. So it’s just us two this morning.” She placed a decorative mug of black coffee next to Jean’s plate. 

The mug was Christmas themed with little reindeer flying through the sky pulling Santa’s sleigh. Except instead of being cartoonish it was elegant and minimalist. White silhouettes on a black background with smooth looping script wishing him a Merry Christmas. Okay, maybe he had to give her credit for her tastes in drinkware, too. It was a wonder where Reiner got his adorable but tacky tastes.

He sipped on the drink, still piping hot from the coffee press, while Karina brought her own plate over and sat across from him. They ate in silence, Jean practically gluing his eyes to his phone screen to avoid catching her gaze. Without Reiner’s presence there to rein him in, the temptation to tear into her only grew. 

He just had to hold out until Reiner and the kids came back.

“They probably won’t get here until lunch,” Karina suddenly stated right as Jean finished the last bite of food on his plate. The way she said it sounded so certain. Probably? That was definitely a lie for appearances. She knew they wouldn’t be back for a while.

Jean swallowed hard, eyes finally snapping up to look at Karina. “Why do you say that?”

“I asked Gabi to buy me some time, and so she lied to Reiner about when Falco’s plane landed,” she replied, expression stony, “I thought, if you won’t let me talk to my son then I might as well talk to you instead.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Are you the reason my son won’t answer my calls anymore? Why he blocked me on social media? Why I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral several years ago?”

“You’re damn right I’m the reason,” he declared, feeling a fiery heat ignite in his soul, calling forth the fury he’d contained over the past few days. One built up by years of watching his best friend suffer from deep emotional wounds primarily inflicted upon him by this woman. Jean clenched his fists, mentally preparing himself for what felt like an ensuing battle. 

She frowned, the wrinkles in her forehead growing more pronounced. “Why did you do that?”

“Why?” Jean laughed haughtily, his almond eyes brimming with deep disdain. “Because you make him absolutely miserable. He can’t help but love you as his mom but I saw the way Reiner deflated after every phone call with you. How he’d get so anxious about every little mistake he made. And, unlike you, I got Reiner the help he needed. I supported him through that process and eventually helped him find the courage to finally cut you out.”

“Then why are you even here?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing further in what looked like frustration, “And why for so long? Why stay here until after New Years?”

Jean scoffed, “It’s not to see you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“For Gabi, then?”

“No, if it was just about Gabi then I would have invited her to come visit us for the holidays. Falco, too. He sounds like a nice kid.”

Karina pursed her lips, mouth forming a thin line across her face. To Jean’s surprise, though, she stayed silent, evidently waiting for him to continue.

He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to elaborate. None of this was any of her business, after all. Except he wanted her to feel bad. To feel guilty for all of the cruel and messed up things she did and said to Reiner over the years. And, well, he only promised to make the trip stress free for Reiner who wasn’t there to bear witness… What if Reiner just never found out?

“We’re here to pay our respects to Marcel and,” Jean gazed at her with all of the intensity he could muster, “Bertholdt. Though you might know him better as that wretched sinner or, I don’t know, that disgusting faggot?” He paused for a moment, taking in the way she winced when he repeated her words back to her.

“I could scarcely believe it the first time Reiner told me about their deaths,” Jean spat, “how you screamed at him for killing Marcel. I mean, how dare you blame him for that? And for what? Because if he hadn’t skipped his extracurricular that day then he wouldn’t have been there to cause the accident?”

She bowed her head, staring intently at her hands to avoid confronting the deadly look on Jean’s face.

“As if Reiner had any control over the driver who ran the red light when they were all crossing the street. As if he chose to have his friend push him out of danger to take the hit himself! Marcel, a dear friend, died and you had no sympathy, no compassion for your son. It’s been 15 years and he still carries that guilt with him. Still blames himself.”

Tears of indignation started welling in the corner of Jean’s eyes but he quickly blinked them away. It’d be a cold day in hell when he showed any signs of weakness to this witch.

“And you didn’t even get him help! He watched a friend get hit by a car and you couldn’t be bothered to get him in to see a therapist. And I know you had the resources. Unlike Bertholdt’s father who wanted to get his son into therapy after also witnessing the accident but just didn’t have the right insurance. You realize that Reiner and Bertholdt practically held each other together after that, right?”

Surprisingly Karina responded with a single nod of the head. Yet she continued staring at the table, her expression unreadable. He knew he could stop here, having likely gotten his point across but fuck that. It wasn’t close to enough.

“If you knew how much your son relied upon that friendship then why did you tear them apart? Huh?”

Karina hunched further forward in her seat, elbows now propped up on the table so she could hold her head. She didn’t even attempt a response, which only served to piss Jean off more.

“We both know it’s because you walked in on them sharing a kiss! A simple peck on the lips and you lost your goddamn mind! You grounded your son for the rest of the school year and forbade him from seeing his best friend! They didn’t even know how they actually felt about each other but you didn’t hesitate to demonize an innocent teenager! One you’d known for years at that point, no less!”

Jean banged his fist on the table with a frustrated grunt, causing the dishes to clatter from the force. She flinched in response but still hung her head low, refusing to face his fury. He took a moment to catch his breath before continuing his condemnation. “The night Bertholdt died he was driving here to see Reiner. Not to have some secret affair but because your son was at the end of his rope.”

Finally she raised her head, looking at him with a hollow, wide eyed expression. 

“That’s right. Reiner started talking about hurting himself and his best friend rushed here despite your warnings in order to save your son…” for the first time Jean hesitated, temporarily uncertain if he should throw the finishing blow. Then he remembered the look of devastation on Reiner’s face the first time he heard this story and he knew it had to be done.

“Did you know that they were on the phone together? Bertholdt didn’t want to leave Reiner alone for a second, afraid of what might happen if he did. As a result Reiner heard all of it. The crash, the screams of pain, and then the emergency workers frantically pulling Bertholdt from the wreckage, shouting about the blood loss and—” 

“Stop!” Karina sobbed desperately, her suddenly visible eyes pleading with Jean to grant her mercy. The look on her face, the hint of remorse he sensed in her, made him take pity and skip the rest of the gory details.

“The only reason we’re even here talking right now,” Jean growled, “the only reason your son is still alive, is because he had other people to carry him through. First he had his friends here in town and then he went to college and found me. I saw how much he was hurting and I encouraged him to finally talk to a professional. Now he’s flourishing and I’ll be damned if I let you undo any of his hard earned progress!”

What he heard her say next didn’t make any sense. Jean couldn’t help but think he’d misheard Karina through her sobs and gasps for air. But then she said it again and again. So many times that it became unmistakable.

“Thank you.”

“What? Why the hell are you thanking me?”

“Because,” Karina suddenly reached across the table to grab one of Jean’s hands. In any other situation he would immediately pull away but his instincts told him to wait. “Jean, dear, I’ve been trying to get Reiner alone to ask if he would consider going to family therapy with me.”

“Wait, what?”

“After Reiner cut me off.. I was a complete mess. At first I was so angry. How could my baby forsake me like that? After everything I sacrificed to raise him. But then the anger, it turned into despair and I could hardly function. When I went in for a medical appointment, the doctor convinced me to see a therapist for my depression. It took years but eventually I realized how much I’d let down my dear son.”

Jean stared at Karina, too stunned to even notice that now he was crying. Not from righteous anger but from utter confusion. For all of the times he had daydreamed about putting this woman in her place he never imagined such a response.

“If you hadn’t convinced Reiner to shut me out I never would’ve gotten the help I needed. I never would’ve worked on my own issues and understood how I took them out on him. I failed him as a mother. I know that now.” She let go of Jean’s hand to grab a tissue box and set it on the table between the two of them.

“Hold on,” he watched as she pulled a tissue to dab at her eyes, “if you already knew you’d done wrong by Reiner then why did you let me tell you off like that?” Jean grimaced now as he thought back on the comments he’d just made. The fierce condemnations. The unapologetic jabs.

Karina smiled weakly, “Well… I guess I wanted to understand how you saw the situation as my son’s life partner.”

“That’s reasona— WHAT,” Jean bolted up from his seat, “what did you just call me!?”

“Reiner’s life partner,” she repeated gently, her smile widening.

“You knew this whole time!?”

Karina nodded.

“How?!” Jean slammed his palms down on the table, rattling the tableware yet again. 

This time, instead of flinching, Karina couldn’t stop herself from laughing. A goofy, genuine laugh that rumbled from her stomach and up through her chest. A laugh that sounded exactly like Reiner’s when he felt light and carefree. When he was happy.

“Gabi and Reiner are friends on social media, dear,” she finally explained after containing her amusement. “He isn’t shy about your relationship. And Gabi isn’t shy about, well, anything. I don’t think she realized that I wasn’t supposed to know when she told me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well,” Karina sighed, her smile quickly fading, “I… I didn’t want to stress Reiner. Or you, for that matter. With how bigoted I used to be, I wasn’t sure if either of you would believe me if I said I was okay with it, either.”

Jean nodded, finally allowing himself to smile. He sat back down at the table and leaned back in the seat. Without saying anything, Karina grabbed Jean’s nearly empty cup of coffee and brought back a fresh pour.

“We have a few hours still,” she reminded him, “If you’re up to it, I think it would be nice to start over.”

He considered her offer for a second, a smug smile crossing his face. “Sure but on one condition.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The last thing Reiner expected to hear when he threw open the door of his mother’s house after hours of waiting around at the airport was raucous laughter. Especially not Jean’s laughter, at that. He kicked off his shoes and hastily ran into the kitchen where he discovered Jean gleefully laughing at a photo album.

“Oh, that picture of him dressed as a yam?” Karina asked with a chuckle. She was back at the stove, putting the finishing touches on their lunch.

“Is that what that is?” Jean questioned with a wide, mischievous smile. His eyes were glued to a polaroid of a young Reiner wearing a lumpy reddish-brown blob of a costume. “Was this for some Thanksgiving play or something?”

Reiner froze in place, mouth hanging open. Wide eyed, he glanced back and forth between the duo, too shocked to speak.

“No, no” she replied cheerfully, “that was for Halloween. Reiner really, and I mean really, loved sweet potatoes back then. I borrowed his aunt’s sewing machine and tried throwing something together for him. It admittedly wasn’t very good.”

Jean cackled. He flipped to the next page, grinning at more pictures of the yam costume while sipping on some water.

“Hello Ms. Braun, thank you for hosting me,” a gentle voice suddenly came from Reiner’s side and drew everyone’s attention. Falco stood in the doorway of the kitchen holding a small tin. “Colt baked these cookies for us to enjoy.”

Without skipping a beat Jean got up from the table to shake Falco’s hand and introduce himself. Then he gestured for the young man to follow him to the stove where Karina once stood.

Reiner looked down to see his mother gazing up at him, a nervous smile adorning her face. She gently grabbed his arm and led him to the next room while Gabi passed them to join the others.

“Mom, what’s going on?” He asked quietly, eyebrows still stuck high on his forehead.

“I asked Gabi to keep you busy for a while so I could talk to Jean,” Karina let go of her son’s arm to rest her hands at her sides. That alone was unusual to him, having grown accustomed to his mother clinging to him when they were in such close proximity. She continued, “I’m sorry for the tricks but I realized I needed to get your boyfriend on my side if I wanted to talk to you. And yes, I’ve known this whole time. Gabi told me a while ago.”

“Gabi told you I had a boyfriend? But then why—” Reiner cut himself off and shook his head, realizing that it really didn’t matter why his mother played along with the roommate story. Not when she referred to Jean as his boyfriend without a shred of contempt in her tone.

“Reiner, I’m so sorry,” Karina looked away for a moment to wipe her watering eyes, “I know I hurt you so much.”

He blinked back tears of his own. Was this real? “It’s… it’s okay, mom, r-really…” Reiner stammered, suddenly overcome with an indescribable feeling of guilt. One that he often felt when thinking about his mother but never understood.

“My dear boy, it’s not okay. I am your mother and I failed you. After talking to Jean I realized that I failed you even more than I thought. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”

“Wait,” he protested, “that man, my dad, took advantage of you when you were still just a teenager and then abandoned you with his child. And then.. grandma and grandpa, I didn’t see it back then but I see it now. I see how disappointed they were. You hardly knew peace a-and they treated m-me like an extension of you. I… I can’t b-blame you for wanting me to meet their expectations.”

Karina shook her head, choking back tears. Reiner could see the way she fought against her own desire to pull him into a hug and it broke his heart. As often as Jean had encouraged him to be angry at his mother, he rarely ever could. 

That guilt, he suddenly realized where it came from. And that was from the knowledge that his very existence made Karina’s life infinitely harder. How every little mistake he made was weaponized against her by his grandparents. The only ones he ever knew and also the ones who silently saw Reiner as a mistake. 

It’s not like they were wrong, either.

Yet Karina didn’t stop shaking her head in disagreement, fighting against her own emotions to find her voice. “None of what you said, about your father or my parents or my age,” she croaked, barely understandable, “none of that was your fault.” She muffled a sob with her hands. 

“You didn’t choose to be born, Reiner. And maybe… maybe I didn’t choose to give birth, but it’s not an excuse for how I treated you. Or how I treated poor Bertholdt. You were just kids and I… I had n-no idea th-that you… or that h-he… it’s all m-my f-fault…”

Reiner sucked in a sharp breath, immediately understanding his mother now knew about that awful night. Without hesitation he pulled her into a strong embrace, unable to contain his own sobs. Karina whimpered innumerable apologies and for once he let her without protest. 

Deep down Reiner somehow knew that both of them needed this. His mom needed to apologize for her wrongdoings. He needed to forgive himself for every one of those wrongs for which he had ever accepted the blame. This was them, finally healing. The first step of countless many in a journey that already felt infinitely easier.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

That night five of them sat around the kitchen table, laughing and playing some of their favorite board games. Karina sat out of some of the rounds but, unlike the previous days, she was very much part of the conversation. Jean still struggled at times to hold his tongue after she said something questionable but he cut himself some slack. He knew this was a process for him, too.

When he and Reiner finally retired to their room his heart felt much lighter. As did his boyfriend’s for that matter, (though he was a little tipsy, too.) It didn’t take long before Jean felt Reiner lightly snoring into the back of his neck, the latter insisting on being the big spoon that night. He smiled to himself as sleep gradually came to claim him, too.

Never in Jean’s dreams did he ever imagine liking Karina Braun. Perhaps it was a Christmas miracle. Or perhaps, as was sometimes the case, he assumed the worst of someone he never met in the process of fighting for someone he loved. He didn’t question it, however, just happy that he agreed to give her the chance.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! If there is enough interest I might write a second part where reijean go on a double date with pokupiku and pay their respects to Marcel and Bertholdt.

[fuctacles]

Dude, That's My Ghost!

A @steddieexchange fic for @hellfireloserclub !! I hope you like it. The whole first chapter is up on Ao3.

E | ~9k | no cw | Soulmates AU, Supernatural Elements, Magical Bonds, Ghost Sex, No UD, Magical Bonds | more tags on Ao3! | beta read by @blasvemous <3

Disappearing Act

The Universe is an amazing creation. In its vastness, it gives you a Soulmate, so you don't feel alone despite your brief and meaningless existence. It may not be perfect, but it's thoughtful, and that's more than you can say about its inhabitants.

And yet, in this benevolent Universe, there is Steve Harrington.

"Ah."

He's standing in front of a guy, their hands outstretched and bare, their Soul-marks visible. At least what's left of them. 

Steve watches in horror as the swarm of bats moves around his skin in panic, vanishing one by one as if sucked into his body. They've been with him for years and now they're just... gone.

When he looks up at the man he's just met, the nail bat on his forearm has vanished as well. He looks more surprised than terrified, though, twisting his arm curiously.

"Well..." He purses his lips. "I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs. "It was nice meeting you."

And before Steve can grab him, or collect himself at all, the man disappears into the crowd. He doesn't feel anymore the tether that helped him find the man in the first place. It's all gone. The Soul-mark, the connection, his Soulmate. Who was clearly right in front of him just a minute ago.

What the fuck had just happened?

Nobody has an answer for him. As far as he knows, it has never happened before, ever. Steve Harrington must be just a special kind of fucked up, hated by the universe. Destined to be unloved. Even though for a brief moment, he wasn't. For a second, he felt whole, with his Soulmate right in front of him, within reach of his hand, but as soon as their palms touched... it disappeared.

There are people without them, but no one whose mark would vanish, like a candy yanked out of a kid's hand. And every day Steve wonders, why him? In a world where everyone was leaving him, where having someone tied to him was his only hope, the only chance for love, why him?

He had left that music festival, where he met the man supposedly destined for him, right after, to grieve his loss in the solitude of his apartment. It felt like a piece of his soul had been torn out and something inside him ached, open and bleeding, with no way to patch it up.

The taped boxes of Robin's stuff were like an additional kick in the gut. She was leaving him soon too, off to live with her soulmate, which she gets to have. He loves it for her, of course he does, but it was easier to do knowing there was someone out there for him as well.

To not think about it, he finally focused on what he's been putting away ever since Robin said she was moving in with Vickie. Looking for a new place, a one-person apartment for himself, and nobody else. It takes over a month, but when he finds it, he finds it. He knows it's the place he wants to call home.

It's shit. 

A small apartment carved from an unused attic space, perfect for a desperate single student. The bathroom barely fits a shower and a toilet and doesn't have any space left for a sink. He has to wash his hands in the kitchen, or the space that he's supposed to call one. It's a little far from college but in a pinch, he could cash in on Robin's promise that he's always welcome at her new place, which is just a short walk away from their school.

It's perfect.

Even if Robin asks him once if he's punishing himself for something that's not his fault, like a really weird interpretation of a martyr. But he just opens his tiny window and lets her listen to the birds from the park below. All she can hear from her windows are the honking cars and yells of the students trying to get the best parking spot. And that's a point for the 'you rule' column as far as he's concerned.

The place has one more perk she doesn't know of and he's not sure which column it would classify in.

Because he's sharing it with a ghost.

It's almost alarming how quickly he accepts it. One day he's listening to music to unwind, and the next he finds a note on his desk telling him his taste in music is shit.

"Hello?" he asks to the room as a whole. Nobody could hide there. There simply wasn't enough space.

His eyes widen when his pen moves.

You won't see me, it writes. Can you play a rock station?

Steve only blinks.

"Uh, sure," he says, staring at the pen. "Do you know the frequency?"

He gets a few numbers in response and reaches for the dials of the radio to set it up. Soon, a song he doesn't recognize fills out the cramped space.

"This okay?"

Yes. Thank you so much.

Thoughtfully, Steve pulls out a notebook and opens it on a blank page.

"Are you a ghost?" he asks, staring at the faint blue lines.

What's a ghost, Steve? appears the message, slightly crooked despite the clear guidelines. The handwriting somehow fits the vibe of the music playing from the radio. 

"How do you know my name?" he frowns at the words.

It's all over your books?

"Fair," Steve huffs, sitting heavily by his desk. "I don't know, a dead person?" he answers the previous question.

Well, I didn't die. So. Not a ghost I guess.

"Then what?"

What's left when your body is taken away from you?

Steve's frown deepens. What is this, an impromptu quiz test?

"Uh, a soul?"

Then that's what I am, probably.

"So where's your body?" Steve asks, perplexed.

Some asshole demon took it.

"A demon?" he asks flatly, raising his eyebrows.

You're talking to a floating pen and the demon is what's unbelievable?

"Well, I'm sorry I'd rather not believe demons exist!" Steve scoffs, throwing his arms up.

Sorry to break it to you buddy but they do. And I've learned it the hard way.

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmurs.

Don't be sassy with me, I'll break all your mugs.

"We're not summoning a demon."

"Okay, sheesh. No need for violence." Steve rolls his eyes. "So, what happened?"

"We're not summoning a demon because they don't exist," Jeff elaborates.

"How about some make-believe, hm?" Eddie puts his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in his bandmates. "A bonding activity to boost morale?"

"You know what would boost morale?" Gareth points his drumstick at him. "Band practice."

"Fine!" Eddie throws his hands in the air. "I'll do it myself, but don't cry later when I'll be the only one blessed by the metal gods!"

"We won't," Doug assures him dryly.

"So it's gods or demons after all? Can't pick a side?"

Eddie flips them off with both hands before grabbing his guitar. He knows they are right, though. Only practice and improvement can give them a chance at the next battle of the bands. They were already so close to winning this year and were slowly becoming recognizable in the city. Getting there was slow but reachable, which was not how Eddie usually does things.

That's why, even if it's just for the peace of his own mind, a spiritual placebo, if you will, he grabs himself a beer and pulls out his D&D notes. He did way too much research on demons for his last campaign not to have some fun with it.

The instructions are cheesy, but it's exactly what he needs—something in good fun and on theme, even if it was supposed to be a group activity. He copies all the symbols, and chants, and draws blood. With his eyes squeezed shut, he makes his wish.

"Whoever is listening, help my band make it big."

The old wooden beams creak with their age. Nothing happens.

He opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and realizes he's relieved. Summoning an infernal being to his little attic apartment didn't sound as thrilling as he had been selling to his friends earlier that day. To be honest, he just wanted to do some weird metal shit with his band that they could later talk about in interviews. "We sold our souls for this album," would be a bonkers headline for the front page.

"That can be arranged."

Eddie shrieks.

He grabs tighter the knife he's still holding from his blood sacrifice and turns around. There on his bed, criss-crossed and relaxed, sits a creature of nightmares.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie's voice doesn't sound as deep and intimidating as he'd like it to.

"You summoned me," the intruder deadpans.

"Oh. Oh, right." It doesn't make him any less terrified. "Uh, what do you want?" he stammers, hoping to get the demon out of his space as soon as possible. He wants to call the boys, would love to hear Gareth's annoying voice right about now, actually.

"For your wish? I want in."

Eddie frowns.

"In?"

And then I held up my guitar and told him to hop in but he hopped into my body instead and here we are.

"You ever heard of a cursed instrument?"

Steve stares at the string of words. And stares. And stares.

I know I'm stupid you don't have to tell me.

"Oh thank god, because I didn't want to make you feel even worse."

He looks around the place and slowly points at the bed.

"So, that demon, was sitting on the same bed I slept in last night?'

Not on these covers, obviously, but yes.

"Holy shit." Steve feels himself shudder with cold dread. He knows all of this might be a lie, since there is no way for him to fact-check it, but the idea is disturbing enough. "And the summoning circle?" He looks down at the floorboards below his socked feet.

It was about here, but I guess the bastard cleaned it. Took all my shit with him too.

"So he's just living your life now?"

I'd guess so.

"Have you looked for him?"

Buddy the first thing I remember since then is waking up to you moving in

Steve frowns.

"What?"

Shit. What year is it?

"1986," he answers, his frown deepening.

Thank gods. Summer?

"September. The new semester just started. What the fuck, man, when did this happen?"

Spring break. Just a few months ago, apparently.

"That's half a year!" Steve points out. "And you were what, just, unconscious this whole time?"

Yeah. Maybe you helped, I don't know. Was someone else living here?

He shakes his head.

"I was told the previous tenant left without a word and they haven't even noticed at first."

Can't imagine a demon knowing the intricacies of renting an apartment.

It's normal for about two days, as far as living with a ghost can be. But it all spirals one night when Steve feels something touch him when he's trying to fall asleep.

Wait. What about my deposit?!

He jerks back in alarm and pulls back the covers but sees no stray items left there. Takes another look around, checking if something fell from the mattress, but sees nothing. He settles down against his pillow.

"Eddie?" he asks quietly.

He almost faints when the radio cracks to life. The dials switch and rotate and through the white noise of static, come bits of songs and voices until one breaks through.

"...what?..."

"This isn't happening..." Steve mutters to himself, eyes wide. "You could talk this whole time?!"

"...had no idea...you just...annoy me so much...had to speak up..."

"What the fuck, man?!"

"...let me sleep..."

"You sleep?!" He's fully awake now himself. "Why? What for?"

"...maybe you...drain my energy...with George Michael..."

"Fuck away from George Michael!" his voice cracks, now on the edge of hysterics.

"...you fuck away...was here first..."

"Yeah, and you fucked it up!"

Right after he says it, something falls on his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"...low blow Steve..."

Steve blinks at the nothingness around him. On top of him. He feels no weight, no touch, but something isn't letting him move. His confused senses make his brain overheat.

"You can touch me?"

He feels the sting of a slap on his cheek, but he's too confused to feel pain.

"Ow?" is all he manages to say.

"...yup..."

The thing on top of him shifts, now off his chest but pinning him from the waist down, like someone is straddling him. He reaches up with his hands, searching for an invisible person.

"...don't...it feels wrong..."

"Sorry." He retracts his hand. Blinking rapidly as if it could give him an insight to the soul realm, he searches for any sign of thighs splayed over his body. "This is weird."

"...no shit..."

His palm, still raised, feels something soft and tingly, and his fingers spread like someone is slotting theirs in between. Steve feels something tighten in his chest, a longing he's been trying to bury deep inside.

"...can we...go back to sleep?..."

Steve lets out a short, surprised laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think I've ever felt more awake than right now." Then, he frowns. "Have you been sleeping with me all this time?"

"...yeah?...there's only one bed..."

"Unbelievable," he murmurs to himself. The first time he shares a bed with a guy and it's a fucking ghost. Soul. Whatever.

"...you want me to...sleep on the floor?..."

"No," Steve groans, falling back against his pillow. "Just get off me and go to sleep."

Eddie doesn't leave, but he lets go of his hand. Something presses against his abdomen.

"...how about...I get you off?..."

"What?"

There's a pressure against his groin, someone's phantom butt cheeks grinding down on him. So much has been happening, that he hasn't even realized he woke up half-hard.

"No, it's alright—"

"...you sure?...you'll sleep like a baby..."

Steve lets out a surprised snort.

"That so, nurse Eddie?"

"...roleplay?...already?...you change mind quickly..."

"I was joking." Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie grinds against him again.

"...I would make...a great nurse...I'm very caring...attentive..."

"That so?" Steve quirks his eyebrow, simultaneously telling his brain that he's not going to seek care and attention from the ghost in his apartment.

Though, on the other hand, he doesn't have a Soulmate anyway.

He just wishes there was a waist he could grab onto, a body he could feel, a smile he could see. But as Eddie brings him to completion, he realizes this is all he might be getting from life.

read more

thirst squad tags: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[starmieknight]

Stars Align

The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 1

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

AO3 link

Concept Art

Legend of the Gobblewonker (Art)

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1, Headhunters Pt. 2, Headhunters Pt. 3 (previous)

It had been a couple of days since the Wax Stan fiasco. There wasn't much going on around the Shack apart from the usual tourist groups and the gnomes fighting the local wildlife for trash can rights. Pretty normal stuff. Almost like it had been for the thirty years without the twins around.

Still, the peace couldn't last.

Stan didn't know it at the time, but the next couple of days were about to be more exciting than anything that had happened yet that summer.

And it all started with a television commercial.

Stan grins as the latest tour group gathers around him, all eager to throw their money away into his Mystery Sack. Really, these guys would fall for anything! And they're happy to do it, a few of the older women even going so far as to pinch his cheeks.

It's a weird feeling, having these women look at him like he's adorable or something. Yuck. He's old enough to be their husband. They shouldn't be cooing over him like he was some scamp of a grandson.

He'd never had any old ladies doing this when he really was a kid back in Jersey. They were usually running him off with a broom for stealing pies or something off the windowsill.

Stan plastered his showman smile on as the last lady turned to him, feeling the strain of keeping an act up as she patted his cheek maternally.

"Such a handsome young man," the lady sighs. "And a good son, too ― running this place for your dad. I've met him, you know. The Mystery Shack was a favorite stop of mine when we were younger. I didn't even know Stanford had a son… Is he around?"

The hopeful look in the lady's eyes and the slight pink in her face was enough to keep Stan from bolting into the house. The question felt kind of shady, but he also had vague memories of flirting it up with this particular woman over the years. From dark hair to the silvers he had worn until just recently, she had been around for quite a while.

He still couldn't remember her name.

"Uh, yeah, that's me!" He said as cooly as he could manage, tugging at his collar. Why did the tie suddenly feel suffocating? "Stanford’s son!"

"You said your name was Stan, too, didn't you? At the start of the tour? Are you a junior?" The lady smiled in a way that might have been teasing, but Stan was already shuddering at the thought of being named after his father.

Let Ford have that one all to himself. He was fine with his middle name being his mother's maiden name. Romanoff sounded pretty cool, anyway.

"No! Nononono," he waved his hands frantically. "I'm― Lee! Stanley Pines… The Second! Named after an uncle."

"Aw, how sweet, carrying on a family legacy like that." The lady patted his head once more. "Well, Stanley, tell your father that Dolores is back in town when you see him. Over at the Fall-In Hotel."

Stan felt his ears grow hot. Okay, maybe they hadn't just... flirted it up. More like, if she was around more often, Dolores would have been in line for the next, ex-Mrs. Mystery title.

"You got it, toots." He grinned, winking. Then flinched and backtracked. "I mean, Ma'am. Definitely ma'am. I gotta, uh ― go wash the goat! Bye!"

With the Mystery Sack tucked securely under his arm, Stan bolted for the Shack's backdoor, racing past the stairs to throw himself into his armchair.

"Ugh," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Dealing with an ex like this is the worst."

Soos patted his back sympathetically while the twins, both sprawled out on the floor, turned to look at him curiously.

"You have an old girlfriend outside?!" Mabel squealed with excitement, stars in her eyes.

"Emphasis on the old girlfriend." Stan raised a pointed eyebrow at her and gestured to his face. "She thinks I'm his son. Had to give her a stage name and everything."

Mabel wrinkled her nose. "That's... kind of weird."

"Very weird." Dipper agreed.

"What're we watching?" Stan asked, hiding his money sack beneath the chair cushion for now. He looked at the TV hopefully. "Tiger Fist?"

"We're waiting on the commercials now!" Mabel said brightly.

"Oh, look!" Soos said suddenly, pointing at the TV. "It's that commercial I was telling you dudes about!"

Stan's lip curled with disgust as the advertisement continued to play, Gideon Gleeful's annoyingly shrill tones ringing in his ears. It sounded even worse without his hearing aide muffling the sound. He missed being able to turn it off when he didn't want to listen to people talk.

He sat up enough to unbutton his jacket and toss it in the direction of the coat rack. It was entirely too hot this summer and he wanted out of his pants five minutes ago. He paused in the middle of stripping to stare at the pile of fabric on the ground, wondering why he had done that instead of hanging it up properly.

He always hung his jacket up ― ever since donning his Mr. Mystery persona.

Admittedly, he was a bit messy by nature, but leaving his clothes laying around haphazardly felt entirely too... teenager-ish.

Stan hurried to right his wrong and turned back to the kids in time to hear Dipper voice the desire to check out Gideon's road show.

"No!" Stan barked, face feeling itchy from the mere idea of getting close to the Tent of Telepathy. "Never! You are forbidden from patronizing the competition!"

Soos chuckled at him. "Dude, I can't take you seriously with that face. You're like a baby bear. So cute!”

Stan made a frustrated noise as he stomped up the stairs.

They'd listen to his warnings if they knew what was good for them.

_____________________________________________________________

And, of course, they didn't listen. They were his family ― why would they?

Pines were never good at keeping their noses out from where they didn't belong. (Usually their noses were too big to even bother with trying, but the twins were still growing into theirs.)

With only a quick stop by the Corduroy house to grab Wendy for backup (and boy was it weird, considering Dan didn't recognize Stan and tried giving him the shovel talk about taking Wendy out), Stan arrived at the Tent of Telepathy just in time to miss the show.

Thank Moses. He really didn't want to listen to Gideon sing some cutesy song and do his little dance. It was unsettling.

The only song and dance he ever sat through was that VHS tape of Dipper's Lamby Lamby Dance the twins' mom had sent him. He still had that, somewhere. Probably had the pictures of him holding the newborn twins somewhere, too.

He should really find those things. The kids would probably like to see them.

"Man, that kid's an even bigger fraud than Stan." Dipper was saying as he and Mabel exited the tent. "No wonder our uncle's jealous."

"I'm not jealous of that twerp!" Stan snapped, startling the kids. They looked up at him guiltily, Wendy merely shrugging when they turned to her for help. "I specifically forbade yous two from coming here and you still did it anyway! And what's worse is you dragged Soos along with you ― where is he anyway?"

"He went to get the truck," Dipper mumbled, tugging his cap over his eyes to avoid looking at his uncle.

"Oh, come on, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel smiled at him, eyes wide and sparkling. Oh, boy ― he'd have to stay strong if he wanted to stay angry. "Gideon's dance moves were adorable! And his hair is like, whoosh. Give him a chance!"

Your niece is being duped by this brat, Stanley.

The ideal of her trusting heart being taken advantage of was enough to relight the fire of anger in his heart.

“Absolutely not!" Stan growled, grabbing the twins and throwing them over his shoulder like sacks of potatoes. "We’re going home ― and I don't want to hear anymore about that Gideon brat or ― or I'll ground you!"

"You're pretty serious about that kid," Wendy observed with mild surprise. "Does he really get on your nerves that bad?”

"Doesn't he get on yours?" Stan retorted with a scowl. "I've heard you complain about him stealin' your fancy face lotion enough times to know you can't stand him, either."

Wendy grimaced at the reminder. "Yeah, that shit's expensive."

"Language!"

"Y'know," Wendy continued, ignoring him. She poked his cheek, earning a yelp from him as she pressed on a tender spot. "You could use some skincare yourself. You're breakin' out something bad, man."

"It's a Pines thing," Stan brushed her off, wincing at the itchy feeling overtaking his face. Now that she’d drawn attention to it, it was hard to ignore. "We got oily skin. What can I do about it?"

"Wash your face?" Wendy snorted. "They make specialty stuff for your skin type now. This isn't the sixties."

"I'm not puttin' any snake oil on my face, Wendy."

"I'll bring you some face wash tomorrow, Maybe a face mask, too."

"Oooh," Mabel perked up. "Spa day?"

"Don't even think about it, pumpkin.” Stan ordered sternly, pointing his finger at her as he deposited the twins in the El Diablo. "Yous guys are on house arrest ― we're not doing anything fun tomorrow except givin' tours and flossing tourists!"

___________________________________________________________

Wendy brought the face masks.

"I think this might even be more fun than my idea of bedazzling my face!" Mabel exclaimed happily, patting her panda mask into place.

Stan glowered at the TV, sat firmly in his chair with his arms crossed. He might have made an imposing figure, if not for the cat mask he was wearing. It was cold and sticky and smelt like plants.

His house was in the middle of the woods ― wasn't that enough nature for his body?

"That sounds like a painful idea." Dipper shot an amused look at his sister, to which she just sighed.

"I'm unappreciated in my time," she mourned, earning a pat on the back from Wendy. The redhead in question was wearing a dog mask and was watching Dipper like a wolf. There was still one face mask left and one blank slate left for her to work with.

Stan was actually looking forward to seeing if she could convince Dipper to go along with them or if Wendy would have to wrestle the boy down to put the product on his face. 

Which was how she'd strong-armed Stan into participating.

Seriously ― she'd put him into a headlock and slapped the mask on him while he was choking.

It would have been impressive ― if he wasn't so humiliated by it.

She would have never even thought about it if he'd still had his old man body!

Ding! Dong!

Stan glanced over his shoulder at the door, moving to take off his mask.

Wendy slapped his hand down and glared at him.

"Fifteen minutes." She reminded him sternly. 

He growled in frustration.

"It could be a tour group!" he protested. "I can't give a tour like this!"

"It could also be a salesman or something." Wendy rolled her eyes. "You're not getting out of this yet, man."

"Wendy..."

"I'll get it!" Mabel volunteered easily, hopping off Stan's lap where she'd been pinning him into place. "If it's a tourist, I'll scream really loud so you can get ready!"

Well, Mabel didn't end up screaming, but Stan thought that she should have.

From the first twangs of a Southern accent floating through the front door, Stan felt his blood pressure spike.

He threw himself out of the armchair, no longer worrying about Wendy and her face masks, and bolted for the door.

Gideon smiled up at him in a false show of innocence.

"Why, hello there! I'm Lil―"

Stan snatched Mabel back and slammed the door in Gideon's face.

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel cried out in shock, staring at him with the most wounded face he'd ever seen from her before. "Why did you do that?"

This was no accident, Stan! You did this!

Stan grimaced and shook his head to dislodge the unwanted memory. He fixed his glare on his niece and fought to stay in the moment.

This was a problem in the present, not the past.

"I'm not going to let that little fake lead you on, Mabel." He said sternly and crossed his arms. "He's no good."

"He's adorable and appreciates my style!" Mabel retorted hotly. "I'm just trying to make a friend. This is my summer vacation! I'm supposed to be out riding bikes and doing stupid stunts without adult supervision."

"You'd rather run off with a stranger than hang out with your family? You were just having fun putting slime on my face, in case you forgot!"

Mabel deflated slightly. "It was nice to do something I like with you and Wendy... but you're such a sour puss about it! Gideon actually likes doing stuff like this..."

Stan slumped, sighing. He ruffled her hair gently and pulled her into a hug.

"I'll try to keep the complaints down." Stan said quietly. "But no promises! I never did anything like this as a kid and it's strange to me. I― I never had friends as a kid, just a brother. And boys back then would've been in hot water for doing girly stuff like this. There ain't nuthin' wrong with it and takin' care of yourself. But the world was a lot more small-minded. Even for those free lovin' hippies."

He shuddered at the reminder of a certain long-haired guitarist.

"Yeah, I guess you and Grandpa would have been doing other stuff when you were my age." Mabel smiled weakly at him. "Kinda like us now. He's older than you, too. It must be weird being the 'teen' role model instead of being the little brother, huh?"

Stan's brow furrowed and he wondered how Shermie got pulled into the conversation.

He'd been so much older than them, so Stan and Ford didn't bond with him like―

Never had friends... Just a brother.

Stan froze.

Oh. Oh shit.

Ohnonono.

"Pretty weird kiddo." He said hollowly, ushering her back into the living room with Wendy and Dipper. He could feel his control slipping by the second and he knew he only had moments before he broke. Already his chest felt tight. "I gotta go ― make a phone call! Berightback!" 

As soon as Mabel crossed the threshold of the room, Stan turned on his heel and bolted for his bedroom.The door slammed behind him and he sank down against it, burying his fingers in his hair.

Oh, sweet Moses ― he'd nearly ruined it all!

He was grateful, for what seemed like the first time in his life, to have another brother.

All his life, Shermie had felt more like a stranger to Stan than a sibling. Too old to play with his dumb baby brothers, then away at war while his wife and son crashed at the pawn shop. Then Stan was on the streets and Shermie moved across the country to Washington. He hadn't even come to 'Stanley's' funeral.

In fact, the last time Stan had seen his oldest brother was nearly thirteen years ago when the younger twins were born. They'd sat together outside the NICU, sharing anxious looks as they waited to hear if Dipper was going to live through the night after the complications he'd been born with. Shermie and Stan had even shared a relieved hug after they found out the boy was going to be fine and Shermie shared a story about something similar that had happened with Stanford and Stanley.

Not only had the Stan twins shared a placenta, but Stanley had been breached. While the nurses were quietly, exclaiming over Stanford's extra fingers and shooting nervous looks at Filbrick, who had forced his way into the delivery room, the doctors had converged on Caryn and were discussing the possibility of surgery to help deliver the second twin.

Stanley, however, was impatient and didn't take being separated from his twin well, even as an infant.

There hadn't even been enough time to unlock the brakes on the hospital bed and move their mother to the operating room before Stanley forced his way out into the world. 

Poor little Shermie, who'd snuck into the room, was both horrified and amazed by the whole experience.

Little brothers, he'd commented while holding a tiny, baby Dipper, are a handful. You always gotta be on the lookout for them cause they'll give you a heart attack if you look away for a second.

And then he put Dipper in Stan's free arm, the other already occupied by a sleeping Mabel, and left him with the youngest Pines twins.

And Stan fell in love in an instant. So much so that he'd nearly gotten into a fistfight with Shermie about whose turn it was to cuddle the babies later.

But as much as he'd loved Dipper and Mabel, being around them was dangerous.

The more time he spent with his family, the more risk he took in keeping up his ruse.

So he'd stayed away and only sent letters and the occasional gift by mail. 

He had planned on keeping the twins at an arm's length this summer, but that was proving futile at this point.

He nearly let precious info about Ford slip to Mabel in an attempt to connect with her and keep her out of Gideon's clutches.

Stan groaned miserably and leaned his head back against the door.

"Oh man, Sherm," he muttered into the empty room. "Little brothers may be a handful, but older siblings are no picnic, either."

[itsalwaysforyou]

just remembered a wip i had which was jay at uni meeting normal people and desperately trying to act cool and normal whilst internally screaming about being in a whole new place with all new people and not having his gang with him

[distant-velleity]

lmao for the record this is not very... coherent or well-paced but-- it definitely exists so 🙂 yeah!!!

yuhua's book 7 dream in tgtwst (before he gets sent to silver's dream by the System)

(warning for floyu crumbs; explanation of the dream in the tags)

~

“You’re saying Azul wanted to see me?” Yuhua asks for what must be the second time now. He follows Chrysos along the oft-walked path to the Hall of Mirrors, adjusting his winter coat to better shield him from the January chill.

Thankfully, Chrysos has the miraculous patience of a saint, at least when it comes to him. “Yes. Truly, it’s an urgent matter; both he and I agree on that.” 

They enter the hall and take a soft right veer into the alcove for the Octavinelle mirror.

“Of course,” Chrysos says, right before they enter, “if it helps, Floyd is rather insistent that you come as well.”

Something strange flutters in Yuhua’s chest, the beginning traces of a feeling he can’t allow himself to feel. He silently stamps it down, though he can’t stop himself from smiling regardless. “Really, now?”

“And there it is.” Knowingly, the corners of Chrysos’ mouth quirk up in a faint smirk. He gestures towards the mirror invitingly. “Go ahead. You know the route to the Mostro Lounge.”

“Right.”

Yuhua steps through the mirror and experiences the usual weightlessness for the briefest of seconds. His foot finds solid ground again on pale lilac tiling, the reflections of the water from above warped over his shoes. Having walked this route countless times now, it’s through muscle memory that he follows the path to the Mostro Lounge; Chrysos isn’t far behind him.

“Ah, wait—” Yuhua looks behind at Chrysos before he opens the door. “...is it locked? Or—”

Chrysos shrugs one shoulder, a non-answer. “It’s unlocked right now, I can assure you.”

“Really? Okay.”

Yuhua grabs the handle and pulls the door open to see utter darkness inside. He blinks, wondering if it’s merely the effect of his eyes adjusting to the light, but no—only the lights from within the tanks are on, and those do little to make the interior any more visible.

Skepticism sinks into his chest. “Chrysos, are you sure—”

“SURPRISE!” shout a pair—no, a chorus of familiar voices. A burst of magic, a showy effect of harmless sparkles, erupts before Yuhua as the Lounge is once again illuminated. Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, and Santiago are right there by the door, their eyes bright.

“Happy birthday, Yu,” Deuce says first, a sincere smile on his face. 

“Ya didn’t think we forgot, now did ya?” asks Epel. He partially covers his good-humored laughter at Yuhua’s face with a fist. 

Jack crosses his arms and looks at the others. “...C’mon, guys. Give him some room.”

Indeed, Yuhua needs it—he can’t quite believe his eyes. Looking past the first-years, he can see the Lounge decorated, not too flamboyantly but not too modestly; he also spots other familiar students gathered around, watching the door or sitting at tables and chatting among themselves.

“I—I…” 

His grasp on the door handle grows weak; Chrysos takes it and makes sure he doesn’t make a fool of himself by letting the door crash straight into him.

“...This is for… me?” Yuhua finally wonders aloud.

Ace snorts at that and shoves a bundle of clothing into his arms. “Who else? I don’t know any other January 27th birthday boys at this school.”

“Um—but I never told you guys my—” 

“Don’t underestimate our combined deductive abilities.” Santiago winks at him, dangling a bolo-style tie around his finger for a second before handing it to Yuhua. “We figured it out just in time.”

“Together? Don’t you guys hate each oth—”

“We’ve learned how to put aside our differences sometimes,” Chrysos assures him, though judging by Ace’s stink-eye, it seems to be a one-time occurrence and nothing better. “And we decided to hold it here at the Lounge as a compromise.”

“But, I…” Yuhua’s mouth remains open even as he falls silent, trying to form questions he doesn’t quite know how to vocalize. “...I… Is this really okay… The Lounge, I mean, and my birthday…”

He doesn’t know quite what he’s feeling, just that the feeling is so immense it stops him from forming coherent sentences. 

“Who else decides if it’s okay or not?” At the imminent approach of a very familiar and very welcome sophomore trio, the first-years scatter like minnows. Floyd easily snakes a hand behind him to place on Yuhua’s opposite shoulder and walks him in. “C’mon, it’s your birthday, li’l Koi! A day just for you!”

“Surely, someone else was—”

“My, my.” Jade hides an amused smile behind a delicate gloved hand. “Are you just going to tell all of these people to go back to their dorms after they’ve already arrived?”

“Come on, now,” Azul agrees. “We were even able to coordinate such a well-timed surprise.”

“Well—” Yuhua sputters, flustered. He hugs the clothes to his chest. There’s a million arguments for his case, but just as many against it. “This is all really impressive, yeah—”

“So there we got it!” exclaims Floyd. “It’s your birthday, and we’re gonna celebrate it. Now, are ya gonna go get changed or what?”

Happiness. Like a soap bubble popping, Yuhua comes to the realization when he looks at Floyd’s infectious smile and feels the warmth surrounding him. This overwhelming, confusing, dizzying feeling—is happiness.

“I…” What is he waiting around for? If everyone’s already gathered… Like a fool, Yuhua laughs at himself sheepishly. “Yeah. Just wait for me a sec, I’ll borrow one of the bathrooms.”

…

“Hold still,” Vil demands, stopping Yuhua as soon as he steps out of the bathroom.

“I—Huh?”

Yuhua stays frozen in his tracks as Vil steps around to stand behind him. Rook takes Vil’s initial place as the housewarden sets to work on Yuhua’s hair.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” Rook sing-songs. 

“Hi, Rook,” answers Yuhua. “Are you also here for—?”

“The celebration? Why, of course~” With a flourish, Rook bends into a bow and extends an open palm forward. “May you have a very happy birthday on this fine day.”

“Don’t distract him while I’m doing his hair, Rook,” Vil says curtly.

“But of course, my Roi de Poison.” Still, Rook smiles at Yuhua in his poetically pleasant, friendly way.

Finally, Vil steps back to appreciate his work. Yuhua, after awaiting the approval of a quick “Go ahead,” gently feels at the braid his hair has been done into.

“Wow, I…” Yuhua turns around. “Thank you, Vil. You didn’t have to.”

“Mm, is that so?” Vil lets out something of an almost-content hum, as usual. “I couldn’t have the birthday boy walking around with his hair the same as his day-to-day look.”

“Your beauty has only been enhanced, monsieur,” Rook declares. “Now, shall we return to the party?”

“They’re all waiting on you,” adds Vil.

“Ah—” 

They’re waiting on him. They actually want him there.

Yuhua nods slowly. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They leave the side hallway to return to the Lounge. Almost immediately, Yuhua catches sight of a certain redhead waving madly at him from one of the tables. It seems like Ace has fervently and insistently claimed himself a spot at the table with the cake, alongside others like Floyd, Deuce, and Chrysos.

“Over here, over here!” calls Ace, earning himself a simultaneous flick to the forehead from Chrysos and a punch in the arm from Deuce. “Ow!”

“Yelling isn’t going to make me get there any faster,” Yuhua retorts, though he’s still laughing when he squeezes in to sit between Ace and Floyd. “I bet you just wanna eat the cake already.”

“You’re pretty greedy, Crabby,” agrees Floyd, just to get a jab in at the first-year.

“Hmph.” Ace grins mischievously, neither confirming nor denying. “Maybe I just wanna know what the birthday boy’s gonna wish for.”

The candles on the cake flicker. It’s just a birthday wish, and it doesn’t mean much. Not much is riding on it.

“I don’t really—” Yuhua pauses, and then huffs a laugh. “Yeah, like I’d tell you. That ruins the whole point.”

“Aww,” whines Ace, batting his eyelashes. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, you dork.”

“What about me?” ventures Floyd, a shit-eating smile on his face.

“Come on.” Yuhua rolls his eyes affectionately. “It’s supposed to be a secret. That means I don’t tell you guys until it comes true. And it’s not that big of a deal anyway—I bet you can guess what it is pretty easily.”

That seems to appease them into staying silent, each thinking about what it could be.

…Again, it’s a wish that doesn’t mean much. With nothing too big to relegate to a birthday wish but nothing memorable enough to immediately ask for, Yuhua more or less has to make it up on the spot. He takes a deep breath before he silently thinks—

I hope I can celebrate my birthday like this again in the future.

—and blows out all the candles in one clean exhale. 

Ace whoops, and somewhere in the Lounge the sound is repeated. Cheers and clapping, from the people celebrating for the sake of it  and the people who want food, echo through the room. “Alright! Now the party’s really begun!”

“I want the first slice of cake!” Floyd insists abruptly.

“No way. It’s mine!”

“Huuuuh?”

“Hey, you two, don’t fight in the middle of Yuhua’s party—!”

Chrysos leans over the table to Yuhua while the other two bicker and Deuce tries to play mediator. “You’re giving it to me, obviously. Right?”

Yuhua sighs, meant to sound long-suffering but instead reflecting his muffled giddiness. “You guys…”

…

Once the food is eaten and the gifts are given, Yuhua finds himself sitting on a stool by the counter while the others mingle among themselves. 

He isn’t mad that he’s seemingly being neglected, no—because he isn’t. People are still checking in on him: Jamil, stopping by to offer him a hair clip; Idia being nudged by Ortho to make Yuhua aware of his attendance (haha); Riddle personally wishing him a happy birthday before being accidentally warded off by Floyd; so on and so forth.

And people are gathered here because of him. They’re all getting along, making merry because of him, in a way. It feels nice, to see everyone not at each other’s throats for once—to see Azul and Leona talking civilly, to see Sebek and the other freshmen having an eating competition… To have people still asking him if he wants to try this food or play this game with them, and knowing that he can just join in whenever he feels back up to it.

This happiness, that knowledge—they form a pool of warmth in his heart, a pool running so deep that Yuhua thinks he might burst if he does anything other than sit. He’s happy to be here, happy to be a part of the celebrations; so happy to be acknowledged as something important to people. Happy to be more than a thought that fades away once the moment has passed.

He’s happy to belong.

Are you really happy? asks a voice in his head—

“Hey, li’l Koi!” Floyd shouts from a table. “Wanna play a game with us?”

—The easy, obvious answer is an unhesitant yes.

Yuhua smiles and nods his answer. A fluttery, bubbly feeling in his heart fills his veins with excitement as he stands up—

The world spins; his vision swims. His foot doesn’t meet the floor, his stomach sinks, and suddenly he’s falling with all the weightlessness of a dreamer being awakened.

~

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @scint1llat3 @nyx-of-night @nemisisnemi

@sillyslipperybananapeel @beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @lumdays @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

@taruruchi

[gilfrespecter]

Listening to coinstar by the growlers and thinking about mel so hard I get nauseous

Ridiculous stream of conscious in the tags apologies but not really

[zonotrichia-albicollis]

Giant personal vent time

This guy stole somewhere between 3 to 6 MILLION dollars from my grandmother by conning my great aunt into signing over her estate and medical & financial power of attorney to him literally on her death bed

I and my aunt have been working basically a whole second job the last 3 months trying to get together a legal case to go after this guy. And now my grandma wants to drop it. And no one else has standing so what the fuck can we do.

This man has absolutely done this to other ppl before, there is no doubt in my mind. I’ve seen his property records for just what’s publicly available in my county and it’s sketchy as hell. I am never going to get over this but there’s nothing I can do.

Gonna put like a million more thoughts in the tags because I’m losing my fucking mind.