#they made him take his passport photo like that...

[bluejeanstrash]

random thoughts about being in a relationship with seungcheol.

- his card details would be on every single app you have: food delivery, cab service, online shopping, streaming subscriptions, and literally anything else. he wouldn’t even tell you, he’d just take your phone and put it in. use my card to pay for it, put it on my card, why didn’t you pay for it using my card? dude, leave me alone.

- he has a passport photo of you hidden somewhere. no, it’s not where you look cute. it’s ugly as hell and he finds it hilarious so he keeps it on him at all times, never disclosing its location in case you take it back.

- he’d take your shots for you. lost a drinking game? seungcheol’s got you, baby. he wouldn’t even have to look at you, he’d just know you can’t drink anymore. he’d signal to hand it over to him instead and then take it for you, no questions asked. he’s so hot for that.

- 9/10 times he’s falling asleep in front of the tv. don’t even bother watching a movie/tv show with him if it’s afternoon nap time or after 9 pm. he’s OUT

- he doesn’t trust you to take his instagram boyfriend pictures. thinks they don’t look ‘authentic’ enough (he’s literally your boyfriend?)

- he’s kinda gross. i feel like he was really proper at the start of your relationship but after he got comfortable, he really doesn’t care anymore. has he burped right in your face because it’s funny? ummmm, yes.

- he’s quite sentimental. he’d keep really random things from your dates and he really loves when you make him stuff, no matter how small. the fact that you took the time, and made the effort? for him? loves it.

- he baby talks around you so much. like so much. it’s like he can’t help but slip into it when he’s in your presence. baby x 100

- he wants you to steal his clothes so bad. that’s what people are supposed to do in relationships!!! he’s constantly leaving his clothes around so that you steal them but you just can’t. all his stuff is so expensive you low-key feel guilty.

- lastly, an nsfw one. he’d solely masturbate to pictures of you. seungcheol is definitely the kind of guy to be obsessed with his partner and not care about anyone else. you don’t care if he watches porn to get off and he’s tried but it isn’t as satisfying anymore. he’s either going to cum with you or to you.

[floridaboiler]

One sunny afternoon, a couple of tourists in San Francisco found themselves in the middle of an unexpected adventure. They were wandering through a small bookstore, scanning the shelves, when they heard a familiar, playful voice behind them. Turning around, they were stunned to see none other than Robin Williams, a grin stretched across his face, as if he had just cracked a joke that only he could understand. Rather than ignore his fans or hide behind sunglasses, he immediately engaged them in conversation. Within minutes, he had the small group in stitches with his improvised accents and quirky observations, showing not just his comedic genius but his humble nature. For Robin, connecting with people was never a chore but something he genuinely enjoyed.

Robin Williams had an uncanny ability to make every fan encounter feel unique and personal. Once, at a New York City comedy club, a young aspiring comedian approached him nervously, unsure of how to introduce himself. Instead of brushing the young man off, Robin put his arm around him, looked him in the eye, and asked, “Do you have a joke for me?” The young comedian, taken aback, stumbled through a joke that he’d been practicing. Robin burst into laughter, not just to humor him, but with genuine appreciation. He gave him pointers, shared advice, and even encouraged him to keep going, emphasizing how crucial it was to find his own voice. This brief encounter became a defining moment in that young man’s life, all because Robin Williams had taken a few minutes to make him feel seen.

Another time, in Los Angeles, Robin was at a coffee shop when a family approached him, excited but hesitant. They had a young boy with them who was clearly in awe. Robin noticed the boy’s nervousness and immediately switched into his "Mrs. Doubtfire" voice, asking, “Hello, dears! How’s everyone doing today?” The boy’s face lit up, and he broke into a smile, instantly recognizing the familiar voice. Robin went on to entertain the entire family with voices and impressions, making sure the little boy felt like he was in a private comedy show. For Robin, it was never about just signing an autograph or taking a quick photo; he went the extra mile to ensure that every interaction was memorable and heartfelt.

One of the most heartwarming stories about Robin’s humility happened during a hospital visit. He often visited children’s hospitals, sometimes unannounced, donning his "Patch Adams" persona or other beloved characters. During one such visit, he met a young girl who was battling a serious illness. Robin sat beside her, held her hand, and spent nearly an hour cracking jokes, making faces, and bringing a genuine smile to her face. He never once looked at the clock or acted like he had somewhere else to be. For him, being there and bringing joy to that little girl was the most important thing he could be doing. Hospital staff recalled how Robin made sure that every child in the ward had a moment of laughter, even if it was just a few seconds. His humility wasn’t a show—it was genuine, unfiltered kindness.

Even outside of public spaces, Robin had a way of connecting with people in the most unexpected places. There’s a story of him at an airport lounge where a tired airline employee was working a double shift. Robin noticed the fatigue in her eyes and decided to lighten her mood. With his classic mischievous smile, he slid up to the counter and started speaking in a thick, exaggerated Russian accent, pretending to be an international spy who had lost his passport. The bewildered employee couldn’t help but laugh, even as he continued to spin an elaborate story of espionage and intrigue. For those few moments, her exhaustion was replaced with laughter, and her long shift suddenly didn’t seem quite so hard.

Robin’s kindness extended beyond spontaneous encounters. He was known for staying after his stand-up shows, often for hours, chatting with fans who waited just to say hello. One time, after a particularly long show, a fan nervously approached him, explaining how his comedy had helped her through a tough time. Robin listened attentively, asking questions and offering words of encouragement. When she thanked him and apologized for taking his time, he responded simply, “No, thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” For Robin, every fan interaction was a two-way exchange; he valued the connection as much as they did.

Perhaps one of the most surprising stories about Robin Williams happened during a taxi ride in New York. He struck up a conversation with the cab driver, who was excited but also overwhelmed to have the famous comedian in his backseat. Robin asked him about his life, his dreams, and his family, genuinely interested in hearing his story. By the end of the ride, Robin gave the driver a generous tip, but even more valuable was the memory he left behind. The driver later shared that Robin’s curiosity and warmth had made him feel important, as if his own life story was just as fascinating as any Hollywood film.

[thenightshadowqueen]

Divorces and Teddy Bears—Watchthrough Thoughts

I’m not sure if anyone likes reading these, but I do, and I figure I can’t be the only one, so here we go. (Plus, they’re fun to make.)

The little card and “beginning-middle-end” editing is amazing

The presents in the title card being addressed to “Peter Steven”, “Priscilla”, and “Johnny and Janae”??????? They know their fanbase; I died

I love this stage

Also captions!!!

I love Luke being so confused at the beginning and just going “Oh!” when he gets it

“I was dressed as a sheep” ah, taking lessons from Sam, are we?

AJ’s sassy walk!!!!!!!

Okay I love Mrs. Claus holy shit

“Leave the keys in the sled, yes. So I can start the engine of the sled.” I love it when Sam points out logic flaws without even breaking character (although I also love it when he breaks character too)

Poor Snowdrop, being assigned as the child of divorce and forced into the middle

Also Luke’s hair???? He looks amazing

The camera quality is great as well

“We feed directly on your emotions. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Luke????

Congrats to Luke for finally getting his diagnosis!

Also Luke directing the audience to cheer for him and then to stop is amazing (reminds me a bit of that clip of him getting the room to be quiet in that recent Genre game)

Tom changing the scene just to crouch behind the chair… This caught me so off guard (in the best way possible)

I know someone already said this but Little Krampus has huge Scottish Robin vibes

Also I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: how the FUCK does Tom move like that?

Tom stroking at a strand of Luke’s hair like that is so weird and I’m here for it; Tom’s character choices are always top-notch

I think “sassy women who fly to warm places to cheat on their husbands with men called Javier” is my favourite niche sub-genre of AJ character (insert that thing about nickels and things happening twice) (shoutout to Tracy) (also I know that Tracy didn’t canonically sleep with Javier but like… she totally did, right?) (or with a different Javier) (there are always plenty of Javiers available in the SFTHverse) (and she has been fucking everyone (direct quote from her))

I love it when AJ fucks up some tiny, barely-significant thing and Sam just CANNOT let it go and it becomes an actual plot point

AJ’s passport photo poses are gorgeous

“The most wanted terrorist in the North Pole” Jesus Christ Sam

Also tangent but can I just say that AJ wearing friendship bracelets is everything (and am I right in saying that I think those were the ones made by fans? Or am I misremembering? Because if they are that is so fucking sweet)

Now I really want to learn more about the Great Battle

Sassy Tom!!!! I love sassy Tom

The Sam and Luke elves remind me of the Oompa Loompas from West End Big Boys

I love Luke’s determination to climb on Sam and Sam’s determination to prevent it

“~Rudolph motherfucker~” have I mentioned that I love AJ?

Audience to the rescue!

“Initiating micro-space” AJ???

Javier having basically all of his buttons undone… Xavier flashbacks, anyone? (Also, Tom having basically all of his buttons undone… he definitely remembers the latest DnD livestream)

“I was expecting a sexy lady with a big beard” hell yeah, bearded women!

“Is [having your shirt unbuttoned] the local custom?” “No, only when we are awaiting a lover. Which, again, you are not; you are two children.” I love that Tom has to remind Sam to not unbutton his shirt because… it’s Sam

“My manservant was surprised” one, of course Javier had a manservant, and two, they need to stop making me think of BBC Merlin because it kills me every single fucking time

Luke just casually telling this random man that he’s 2000 years old… god, they really do never leave the North Pole, do they?

“Tell me a little less” I love Tom

“I’m definitely the receiver in the relationship” TOM (but also good for Javier)

AJ oh my fucking god

“That’s how it works up there” god I love Sam’s very specific “suspension of disbelief” voice

“That looks like a plot point that’s almost been abandoned” Tom is amazing

Oh, Luke, you’ve just set yourself up for another Pocket scenario

“I just wanted the pussy” Tom

“You know it’s casual” does she? Because she’s moving halfway around the world for him

“Wow, that sounds very transactional to me” I mean… yeah. Yeah, it does

“Hey, let’s not blame someone with a disorder, shall we?” I love Sam holy shit

Tom singing!!!!!!!!!!!! He sounds so creepy??????? He’s doing an amazing job

“~I just realised there’s no cable on this mic at all~” Tom has been freed!

Oh my god I love seeing Tom so happy

Tom’s villains are always amazing for a lot of reasons but especially his physicality???

Tom is having so much fun

AJ’s expression when Tom puts their faces close together is amazing; it’s like, “I have no idea what the fuck you’re doing but I’m going with it”

“Poor little teddy bear Christmas man.” I love Tom trying to bring back the title (“I have so many names and that is not one of them”)

LUKE!!!! (his Little Krampus movements are amazing)

Also Snowdrop :(

AJ just staring blankly into the camera is so fucking creepy

Luke good fucking god

Thought we were going to get a kiss for a second there…

Sam singing!!!!

I love the audience singalongs!

AJ singing!!!!

Holy shit I love this play

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates!

[drowninginblox]

Back Online

Pt: 1, 2, 3

You decided to take some time for yourself.

Charles could read you like an open book, and you loved and hated him for that. When he said you had paid time off, you took it—along with Scott's motorcycle.

You didn't know where you would go but you ended up in Niagrea for a few days, just watching the falls and the people. You also spent some time off Tumblr. The last thing you needed was to be reminded of that damn post again. But the thing was, you found yourself stalking Kurt's known social media in the meantime. It got to the point where you lost sleep over year-old photos of this guy's stupid face. So on the third day, you turned off your phone altogether.

You knew it wasn't smart but you also knew that no one would call you in an emergency. You weren't an X-Men, you knew that too well. So the whole week was yours.

You ate poutine, went to a spa, ordered takeout, watched trash TV, and enjoyed the American/ Canadian border. It wasn't everything you hoped for, but it was better than lingering on everything you left. No- that was for the drive back.

When you got on Scott’s motorcycle and started back on the scenic route, you got to thinking. One step at a time. From how this whole feeling towards Kurt started, to the pinning, to the post, and now… how in every instance you could have just told him at any time. But you didn’t. And now he knows about your crippling feelings through a tumblr post of all things.

The amount of times you swore at yourself outnumbered your fingers and toes. But you continued back to the school. The good part of you wanted to say it was for the students. The bad part of you wanted to say it was because you didn’t have a passport. But the realest answer was that you couldn’t run away. You know too many people who have ran away from their problems- all of the XMen have. But what seperated you from them is that even when shit got tough, and the circumstances where stupid, you always walked towards the problem. Regardless of if it was your own or someone else’s, you always took it head on. Because even the runners get exhausted, and the hiders get paranoid. You’d rather just get it done and over with.

So when you pulled up to the school to see Kurt standing out front waiting for you, you only took a breath and walked up to him. “You’re back.” He said in disbelief. You manage to shrug “I had to.” Kurt kept his eyes on you, taking you in for everything you are. “Y/n, I want to talk to you about that-“ you chuckle, albeit awkwardly “my post? Yeah… I had a feeling.”

He can’t help but avert his gaze and hold the back of his neck while you shove your hands into your coat pockets “Liebling I-“ “Kurt,-“ you manage to say simultaneously. When the two of you realize your shared mistake, you laugh. And for a moment, it doesn’t feel like what happened happened. But when the laughter settled, and the reality edged back, you say it first “You go ahead. Please.” Kurt smiles in thanks. “Y/n, I-" He pauses momentarily to calm himself, and hopefully consider his words. "I’ve thought a lot about what happened, alongside how I reacted. And there’s something that I need to be honest with you about. I just," He stops and sighs. "I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and I just didn’t know it was you who made the post." The hand that rested behind his neck moved to his elbow, fiddling with the fabric of the loose sweatshirt he was wearing.

"I’m hoping that we can talk about it somewhere more private, that’s all to say if that’s alright with you.” You take that in and nod “But before we do, let me say what I wanted to. Please.” You countered. Kurt nodded. "Of course,"

You take a breath of your own and try to remember all the things you want to say. “Kurt, I am very sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m not that brave when it comes to telling others my... romantic feelings because, more often than not, they’re one-sided on my end. So I just- keep to myself and hope it goes away with time." You attempt to chuckle away nerves. "Obviously, that didn’t happen… and I didn’t have anyone I felt comfortable telling. I was scared it would get back to you one way or another." You huff a dry laugh. "Ironic I know," Kurt looks at you with a soft expression but you didn't quite know what was backing it. "So I thought if I shouted into the ether- nothing would happen. Even though I knew you have a Tumblr... I thought I should risk it anyway since I just needed to get it out. So I did,... and now you know.” She hesitates but decides not to take his hand

“Kurt, regardless of what happens or how you feel, know that I still want to be your friend. I understand completely if you don’t- that you need time or that you don’t want me to talk to you at all. But I hope you know that I truly care about you, Kurt," You move only to end up holding yourself. "Whether that be romantically or platonically- I care about you. So… if you want me to buzz off for leave you alone that is completely fine. I just want you to be comfortable.” You swallow down an acidic taste that you hope is pure anxiety. Kurt looks you over for a few moments. You try to meet his eyes. Time passes in this wordless exchange until Kurt offers his hand. "I think we should continue this somewhere else." He decides. You swallow again and attempt a smile with all the hope you have in this relationship- whatever it may be. "Okay." You clasp his hand, and just seconds before you two teleport, he smiles and pulls you into a hug. You manage to close your eyes as the cloud of dark smoke overtakes you.

The lingering scent of vanilla hung in the air, signaling to you that it was okay to open your eyes. You've only been inside of Kurt's room once, maybe twice, and even then it was only for fleeting moments like telling him food is ready. So you took your time taking in all the tapestries, framed photos, overflowing bookshelves, and still burning candles. "Did you leave these burning while we were talking?" You mumbled while looking around. Kurt laughed awkwardly. "Ja… dumm." He chuckles. "The Professor told me you were approaching the campus and I just had to talk with you." You look up to him. "Well, now you can talk to me." Kurt looks down at you. The urge to pull you closer or squeeze you while he has the chance is almost overwhelming. But he overcomes it.

Instead, he lets go and puts a step between you. Both are a means to not scare you and to distance themselves. “So, I know you like me, and... I don't want to lead you astray Y/n. So I’m going to be honest with you. Up until a week ago, I never considered our relationship in that way." You look away. The tightness in your throat is starting to become unbearable. "Hey, hey, hör zu, sieh mich an, meine Schöne. Denken Sie bitte nicht das Schlimmste. Look at me Y/n." He chides, taking a step forward and holding your chin. "Please, look at me. I'm not done. Hear me out okay, liebling?" You can't help but flush when you hear him say that. God damn fanfictions haunting you. "Okay," You relent. he smiles a little and moves your face so the two of you are eye to eye. "When I realized it was you, I wanted nothing else in the world but to go back in time and slap myself. I though that I lost one of the best people in my life." He brushes a thumb over your chin. "And when you left, I was lost. I didn't deserve to know whether or not you were coming back. But when the reality set in that maybe you weren't I-" he sighs and looks away for a moment before returning to your eyes. "I realized I couldn't live without you." You felt yourself get a little lighter at his admission. "Me too." You mumbled.

Kurt swallowed. His pride or nerves, he doesn't know. "Y/n, I don't know to what extent I want our relationship to be. But I know I don't want to live a life without you by my side." He lowers his hand from your chin to your own hand and interlocks your fingers. "I don't know if this will be what you want of me-"

You shake your head and holds his cheek, making Kurt tense. You hesitate but resign yourself to not pulling away. "Kurt, all I want is your happiness. I can get over my feelings. I can move on. The last thing I want is you attempting to force feelings that aren't there." His eyes get a little wide. "Y/n-" "Kurt, you are one of the kindest, most selfless people I know. You are admirable and open, loving, and- to me- you're divine." You brush a thumb over a hot cheek as his face slowly turns violet. "Kurt, you deserve only the best that the world has to offer. Do not put your happiness aside for me. Please," You assure. "Be happy in any way you want, just don't hurt yourself in the process."

Kurt blinks a few times as he processes your words. You keep your eyes on him to gauge his reaction, but other than blinking through too many emotions to properly identify and parting his lips every few seconds, there's nothing much you can do other than question if holding his face is the right thing to do right now. Eventually, he finds himself, closing his mouth and focusing back on the current moment. "Y/n," He starts but cuts himself off. He moves his hands to hold your wrists, moving your hands away from his face. All you can do is swallow and listen to whatever he needs to say. "Y/n, I am a man of many things. You know that." He smiles a little and looks down at your hands. "I'm a man of faith in things most people don't belive in, I am both fierce and cowardly in all senses of the word, and I envy the dramatics of life." He moves his hands to yours from your wrists. His hands turn your palms upwards so the closest finger that could ever be considered as his thumbs can press into your palms.

He takes them in, soft but worn- not in the same ways his are though. You find yourself looking at your own hands as well. "When I was in the circus, a woman taught me how to read palms... she couldn't read mine that well." He chuckled softly, making you giggle in return. "But, I learned how to read others." He drops your nondominant hand and looks closely at the other. "Kurt, what does this-" "Shhhh-" He hushes, looking intently at your palm. "I know I have a flair for the dramatics, but let me do this Y/n," He says before looking up to you. Realizing the proximity and the intimacy of this situation, your face heats up. But you nod for him to keep going regardless.

He smiles and returns to his work. "Now, as much as I love the novelty of this, take it all with a grain of salt....Ah! There," he points to a line closest to your fingers but top most of your palm. "This is your heart line." He explains "Or your love line..." He smiles softly as he trails the line with a finger. The ghost of the touch makes a shiver run up your back. He chuckles. "You see how long it is?" You nod. "That means that you are most likely a good lover... romantic, considerate, caring." You look back at him. "But, I don't need your palm to tell me that." He clasps his other hand around yours, encasing it with his touch. "Y/n, when you left- I didn't know what to do with myself." You look at him slightly concerned. "I was forgetting things more often than I usually do. When meetings were, when to eat, when to sleep..." A dry chuckle escaped him. "I was so worried about you that I neglected myself." You put your spare hand on top of Kurts. "Kurtis..."

He chuckles a little "You're the only person I let call me that... other than Marie." He looks into your eyes. "I was so worried that I lost you over something that I was putting up a front for..." You cocked your head a little. "What do you mean?" Kurt removes his hands from yours and takes out his phone. He finds the screenshot that started all of this. "Y/n, I have reread this post well over a dozen times before I belittled it before you. Not because I thought it was weird or something... it was so flattering. To have someone want to hold, kiss, and love me so unabashedly. Of course, I didn't know it was you... not that that is any excuse. But... You understand why I tried to play it off as a joke right?" You nod in understanding. He could not have known it was you, you made sure of it. "I guess my reaction was enough of a tell..." He smiles at you in understanding, although it comes off as bittersweet considering the situation. He puts his phone away. "Y/n, I don't see you any differently. I hope you know that, but I also want you to understand that my feelings for you have changed and I need to sort them out." You can't help but look away from him. " I won't ask what kind as to not get my hopes up, but can I at least know wether or not you're pitying me." Kurt furrows his brows and holds your cheek. "No! No, Y/n, I do not pity you or look down on you for this. Ehrlich. I just wish you trusted someone on the team to tell rather than do this." Your throat tightened. "If I did, I knew it would get back to you. One way or another." He sighs. "And this was better?"

The only sound comes from the to-and-fro flick of Kurt's tail.

He just brushes a thumb over your cheek, watching as your inner turmoil reflects through your eyes. "Just give me some time to figure this out, okay?" You glance back at him. His golden eyes soften at the understanding between the two of you. Even though you hate how everything has turned out, it's gotten you here regardless. You sigh and turn to fully look him in the eyes. "Take as much time as you need." You assure. He smiles at you, this time it's far more genuine. "Thank you." He mumbles. You nod and back away from him. All he can do is watch as you make your way to the door. You open it and turn back to him "We're still friends?" You mumble. He smiles. "Always." You return the smile and nod before leaving the room.

Finally, he can plan.

[unforth]

We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.

Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.

They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.

I think we all know how this story ends.

I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.

And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.

Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.

And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:

I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.

I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).

Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.

Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.

We. Are. Not. Safe.

The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."

I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.

If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.

And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.

[hamsterclaw]

Penance

You have nothing but the best of intentions when you whisk Yoongi away to celebrate his birthday, but somehow it doesn't work out the way you've planned.

Part of the Vows series. Read the rest here.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Arranged marriage AU!, e2l, smut

Warnings: A little mild blasphemy, sex, swearing, vows! Seokjin

Yoongi turns his gaze your way. You’re looking out the window of the plane, lost in thought.

There are always words on the tip of his tongue when he looks at you, and only his sheer stubbornness to hold them back.

He’d wanted to say how touched he was that you’d organised this trip for his birthday, but the words had retreated when you’d snorted at his passport photo.

You’d turned to him, voice dry as you’d said, ‘of course you’d have a gorgeous passport photo. My perfect chaebol husband.’

Yoongi hadn’t heard a question, so he hadn’t given an answer.

You’d skipped onto the plane ahead of him, getting settled in, and when the flight attendant had offered Yoongi champagne he’d turned to you to realise you were already asleep, face in your hand in a way that made his heart tug dangerously.

He’s finishing off some work when he realises you’re awake and watching him. 

‘Did you bring your glasses?’ you ask. 

‘I forgot them when you kidnapped me out of my office,’ Yoongi replies. He means it as a joke but your mouth turns down slightly at the corner.

‘Sorry,’ you say. ‘You have that shareholders meeting tomorrow, too, don’t you?’

You look down at your lap. ‘I didn’t know you had an important meeting. I would have rescheduled this trip.’

Yoongi is never sure if you’re aware of how endearing he finds your little downturned mouth when you’re sad or disappointed.

‘I can join in remotely,’ he says. ‘I’ll only need an hour.’

‘Ok,’ you say, distracted by the flight attendant bringing a tray into the cabin. There’s a silver cloche covering the contents, and Yoongi has a moment of horrified realisation just as the singing begins.

His eyes snap to yours, and he realises he’s doomed from the way you’ve got your hands clasped and are singing the birthday song with enthusiasm, if not talent.

Yoongi forces a pained smile as the flight attendant lifts the cloche to reveal a sprinkles-covered birthday cake, a funfetti monstrosity with his name on in gold letters.

He genuinely can’t think of anything that he hates more than this forced joviality.

Thankfully it’s over almost as soon as it’s begun.

Yoongi watches as you carefully cut him a slice and present it to him ceremoniously.

He takes a bite, and you say, ‘oh.’

You gesture to the corner of his mouth, and then, quickly, put a hand on his arm and use your other thumb to swipe the cream off his mouth.

‘Use your tongue next time,’ Yoongi suggests, just to watch the way your eyes widen like you’re a shocked Victorian maiden.

It always amuses him, your particular mix of shy and bratty. 

You blink once, then you say, ‘I love licking cream off you.’

Yoongi nearly chokes on his cake, eyes fixed to your face.

Your words replay in his head, and there’s no way you didn’t mean them to sound as suggestive as they did.

You’re already turning away, reaching under the seat for your sweater.

‘Seokjin said you’d like a cream cake,’ you continue, slipping your sweater on.

Yoongi catches the barest hint of a smirk just as your face disappears momentarily under a wall of cream merino.

He manages to blank his expression before your face re-emerges, hair staticky and fluffed.

‘Seokjin’s full of helpful suggestions,’ Yoongi says.

‘He is suggestive,’ you mutter.

Yoongi laughs, and your eyes brighten.

You eat your cake in silence.

Yoongi’s sneaking glances at you as you chew, and when you set your fork down, he says, ‘hey.’

You lean closer, and Yoongi smooths a lock of hair back from your forehead.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, quietly, in that voice that melts him every time, ‘did you hate the fanfare with the cake very much?’

‘Yes, my love. Did it make you happy to watch me squirm?’

You can’t hide the gleeful quirk to your lips. ‘Yes. Sorry.’

You don’t sound sorry at all, but Yoongi forgives you anyway.

He sighs, exasperated. ‘What other surprises have you got planned?’

Your conversation is interrupted by the flight attendant collecting the trays, and when Yoongi looks back at you, you’re asleep again. 

Yoongi reaches over, puts his hand on yours, and goes to sleep himself.

***

The night-time breeze is balmy but Yoongi doesn’t mind.

You’d slipped your hand into his as you started your walk along the cobblestoned streets of Avila, and he’s quite sure he’ll walk you to wherever you want to go, when you’re holding his hand like this.

You’re brushing your thumb along his knuckles, exploring the dips in between with an absent fondness that seems almost unintentional.

You turn to him, all bright and cheery despite the late hour, and Yoongi’s gaze falls to the low neck of your sundress.

He can see the tops of your breasts from here, the edge of your bra.

It’s red silk, a set he’d bought you a while ago that you’d discovered in his wardrobe and accused him of buying for himself.

Yoongi reaches out and strokes his own thumb over your collarbone, stopping at the hollow in the middle of your neck. 

He presses, hard, and you bite your lip.

‘Yoongi?’ you ask, like you haven’t been teasing him since you got off the plane, getting dressed in red silk lingerie in front of him, asking him to help with the buttons on the front of your sundress, holding his hand when you know how it affects him.

Yoongi pushes his thumb into your skin, harder, sliding his other arm around your waist to steady you as you step back, back until you’re pressed against the stone wall of the church you were about to walk past. 

‘Yoongi,’ you say, and if you have more to say Yoongi never hears it because of the blood rushing in his ears. 

He kisses you, hot and demanding, tongue slipping into your mouth like a claim. 

As always, you yield, throwing down any resistance with a willing abandon that floors him. Your hands fist handfuls of his jacket, and you tilt your head to let him kiss you deeper. 

Yoongi cups the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, not wanting your head to hit the wall.

You respond by throwing your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body to his.

Your breasts press against his chest, your hips rock against his shamelessly.

Yoongi grinds his hardening cock into your softness to let you know just how into this he is.

You’re breathless, shivering against him, and Yoongi’s about to shrug off his jacket when you slide down onto your knees in front of him.

He stares down at you, breathless, as you press your lips to his groin, mouth along the outline of his erection. 

He casts a glance around, but there’s no one to be seen in this quiet part of town, at this hour.

The night’s dark, the golden streetlights are far enough away from each other that the illumination doesn’t quite light up all the spaces in between.

You’re already unzipping his trousers, drawing him out, and you take him in with an eagerness that makes his cock leap.

God, you’re unbelievable. 

Yoongi says, ‘wait,’ hoarsely, staggers two steps back to lean against the base of a statue.

He cups the back of your head as you start sucking him down in earnest, swallowing the tip of his cock down. 

He arches his head back, glimpses the face of the statue, smiling down at him beatifically haloed by the darkness of the night sky.

You grab his ass, drag his hips forward like you’re trying to force him down you, and Yoongi’s lost, coming with a shout, spilling himself down your throat.

You lick him clean, and are zipping his pants back up when you’re pulled away from him.

You look up at him, confused.

Yoongi’s just as confused, but he doesn’t like the way the uniformed guard has your arms pinned behind you.

‘Hey,’ he starts, and then realises that another guard has slapped handcuffs on him.

You’re looking at the statue he’s leaning against.

There’s rapid-fire Spanish, beyond Yoongi’s rudimentary comprehension. The only words he can make out are ‘Santa Teresa.’

Yoongi’s bundled into the back of a police car next to you.

‘Fuck,’ you say, ‘I think they’re accusing us of defiling the statue of Saint Teresa of Avila.’

***

In the tiny cell, Yoongi shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders.

You look up at him.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. You look so upset Yoongi’s already reaching out to hold you when a single tear streaks down your cheek.

‘For getting us arrested?’ he clarifies.

Instead of giggling like he expected you to, you let out a sob, and Yoongi, alarmed, tips your chin up to see your face.

‘It’s not the first time I’ve been arrested, don’t worry,’ he says, trying to be reassuring.

‘I’ve never been in jail before,’ you sob.

Yoongi strokes your hair. 

‘Technically we’re not in jail,’ he stutters, flustered by your tears.

Your eyes flick to his, like you can’t believe how terrible he is at trying to comfort you when you’re crying.

In all honesty, Yoongi can’t blame you. 

‘I called Seokjin, he’s getting my lawyers involved,’ Yoongi continues, because you’re still staring at him. ‘We’ll be out of here in no time.’

‘Your meeting,’ you say, gulping. ‘It’s in six hours.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ Yoongi says, quietly. 

Your tears have stopped, and he can practically see the gears in your head turning as you get up and start pacing the cell.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say, stopping in front of him.

‘For what?’ Yoongi scoffs. ‘Giving me the best blowjob of my life against the statue of the patron saint of Avila?’

You let out a giggle that sounds completely involuntary.

Encouraged, Yoongi continues, ‘flying me out here in the middle of a busy work week to celebrate my birthday in a Spanish prison?’

This time, you laugh, and for the first time since you were both arrested, Yoongi feels the tenseness in his shoulders start to ease.

‘Jagiya,’ he says, and your eyes meet his. ‘Can you let me organise my own birthday celebrations next time?’

Your eyes begin to sparkle with that bratty gleam he loves.

You tilt your chin, a show of defiance, and Yoongi feels a dangerous tug at his heart.

‘What would you have planned?’ you ask.

‘Making you come with my tongue buried inside you,’ Yoongi replies. 

He laughs as you still completely and let out a squeak.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, like you’re scandalised but he knows better. ‘That’s the kind of behaviour that got us thrown in here in the first place.’

‘You’re right,’ Yoongi agrees. ‘Come hold my hand instead.’

You look at his outstretched palm for a moment before you put your hand in his. 

You sit next to him, and, carefully, with tentativeness, like you’re on a first date instead of being husband and wife, lean your head on his shoulder.

Yoongi lets out a breath and presses his cheek to the top of your head.

‘I love you, Yoongi,’ you say, very quietly.

Yoongi squeezes your hand, and holds you until the world around you falls away.

He sleeps.

***

The sound of footsteps approaching wakes Yoongi. 

He looks up, careful not to jostle you against his chest. From the weight of you, you’re still sleeping.

The cell door unlocks, and the police officer gestures to him. 

‘Your lawyer called. You’re free to go.’

You’re stirring beside him, looking up sleepily.

‘We’re being released,’ Yoongi tells you.

You nod.

You slip your hand into his and follow him to the open door of the holding cell.

‘Stop,’ the guard says. ‘She can’t go. Her paperwork hasn’t come through. It’s only you that can go.’

Yoongi’s already trying to step back into the cell when it closes.

He slips his arm through the bars to hold your arm.

Instead of dismay, there’s determination in your face.

You’re looking at the clock. 

‘Yoongi, your meeting. It’s in twenty minutes. You’ve got time to conference yourself in.’

Yoongi doesn’t even blink.

‘Fuck that. There’s no way I’m leaving here without you.’

Not letting go of your arm, he takes the phone the guard hands him and is dialling when Kim Seokjin walks around the corner.

As always, he’s beautifully dressed, in a cream linen suit and crisp blue shirt unbuttoned to mid chest.

He speaks to the guard in Spanish, and in moments, the guard’s unlocking the cell to let you out.

Seokjin turns to Yoongi and you, that smirk on his face that’s always made Yoongi’s eye twitch.

‘I want to know more about the antics that got you thrown in here, but for now, there’s a car waiting outside that’s dialled into your shareholders meeting, Yoongi. Better get to it.’

‘Thanks, hyung,’ Yoongi says. 

‘Happy birthday,’ Seokjin says, clapping him on the back.

‘Thanks.’

Yoongi grabs your hand and walks out with you and Seokjin.

He doesn’t look back.

***

Yoongi’s lying on his back in the beautiful villa you’d hired for your stay.

The gauzy curtains flutter in the salty ocean breeze, and the ceiling fan above the bed he’s lying in circles lazily.

Yoongi’s been watching you dry your hair for the past five minutes, and the glimpse of your naked back from the gaping lapels of the bathrobe you’re almost wearing has him harder than he feels comfortable admitting.

Fuck. There are times when he can’t believe you’re real.

‘Hey,’ he says, voice coming out deeper, lower than his usual tone. ‘Come here.’

You get up and head to the bed.

Yoongi tugs the knot in your robe, slips his hands over your bare thighs, loving how you part them so willingly for him.

‘Can I do what I wanted to for my birthday?’ he asks.

You frown at him. ‘It’s technically not your birthday anymore,’ you point out.

Yoongi scoffs. ‘Come sit on my face, don’t pretend you don’t want to.’

He slides his hands over your bare ass as you position yourself over his face.

You lean forward, one arm braced against the headboard, as Yoongi pulls you down onto his mouth.

He groans as he thumbs your folds apart to find you’re slick with arousal already. 

He flattens his tongue to lick a broad stripe along your cunt. 

Fuck, you sound so good when he’s eating you out.

You lean forward, moaning softly as he licks firmly at your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking out, making you gasp.

You shift, and your tits bounce, nipples hard and puckered, so pretty Yoongi pinches one to hear you squeal.

He laps at your arousal as he plays with your nipples. He knows how you love having your breasts played with, he loves how his touch can make you grind against his face, needy and gasping.

He flicks his tongue at your clit steadily, and you’re closing your eyes now, hips moving in that needy, uncoordinated way that they do when you’re close.

One of your hands lands on his head, fingers carding through his hair.

You tug, and Yoongi runs his teeth over your clit.

You cry his name, the last word you form before you’re coming all over his face. 

Yoongi tugs you to him, holding you close as he turns you over so he can sink his cock in to the hilt.

You arch your back when he’s fully inside, letting out another pretty cry.

Yoongi’s cock throbs in your wet heat, the residual pulses of your orgasm milking him.

He groans as you wriggle beneath him.

‘Feels so good,’ you moan, tilting your hips to take more.

You so warm, so wet, so fucking tight that Yoongi’s spurting pre-come without even moving, ready to spill himself in you.

He grunts, and you squeeze him so tight that he’s on a hair trigger.

‘Yoongi,’ you plead. ‘I need —‘

‘I know, baby,’ he soothes, pressing a kiss to your warm face.

He moves, hitting deep, adjusting the angle of his hips to fuck into you the way he’s learned you like.

You’re so wet that every shift of his hips sounds obscene. 

He pulls out, and re-enters you, the thick head of him stretching you open.

He stays like that, just the tip of his cock inside you, until you’re writhing, trying to buck up against him, to take more of him.

Yoongi leans down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, and then you’re coming, thank god, because Yoongi can’t hold on anymore.

He buries himself inside you, all the way, and comes.

Yoongi’s never been a religious man, but this sure feels a hell of a lot like rapture to him.

He wraps his arms around you.

‘Happy birthday to me,’ he says, hoarse, exhausted.

‘Yeah, happy birthday,’ you say, muffled, into his neck.

‘I love you, jagiya.’

You pull a face. 

‘Yeah, I can feel your love all the way down my thigh,’ you reply, disgruntled.

Yoongi musters a smirk as he flexes his cock inside you.

‘You can’t pretend to hate me when I’m still inside you.’

You change tack with breathtaking audacity. ‘I don’t hate you, Yoongi.’

‘I know,’ he replies, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Now go to sleep so we can do this again.’

‘Thanks for not ditching me in jail,’ you say, yawning.

Yoongi’s heart gives an unexpected throb.

‘I never would,’ he tells you.

He’s not sure if you hear him, or if you’re already asleep.

©hamsterclaw 2023

[mammalsofaction]

First Impressions

Yall still remember this ask?

Sorry I made this sad, nonnie. The ep made a fool of me, maybe i will write fluff instead soon. But thank you for getting me to watch the show! This is for you!

Rating: G

Relationship: Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota, Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add Tags: Break up arc, SQUARED, me approaching a gay couple, so who leaves and who is the one left behind?, based on the ep First Impressions on MML S2, Count me among the ranks of MML S3 activists, ambiguous perry, ambiguous perryshmirtz, ambiguous Dakavendish, if you're able to catch the reference in one of the lines Dakota says, hi hello i know what you are, sulking at a diner talking about stupid boys who never communicate

"Well?" Dakota asks reasonably.

"Well, what?" Heinz says, once the waitress moves away after taking their orders.

Dakota looks mildly exasperated. "Your first meeting? You were just telling me about how you first met Perry right around the corner of the old ice cream parlor. How did you meet?"

Did he say that? Was that what they were talking about? He doesn't quite remember saying that, but then again he says a lot of things he doesn't quite give conscious thought to, and to be fair hardly anyone was listening. At least, he used to think so. It had different, with Perry, who's whole job had been listening (and doesn't that still leave a bitter taste in his mouth), but it had shortly led to a wealth of surprising cast of characters who continue to surprise him by how much they cared. It's a bit off putting. He doesn't know how to feel about it.

Dakota-or, Vinnie, really-he was listening. He seems like the listening type. The listening half of his duo situation, which is probably the only reason they're still getting along despite similarities in dealing with impulse decisions and general chaotic fuckery.

The question, at least, reminded him of what he constitutes as one of the sweeter, better times of his past, the milestone that changed his life. Inarguably for the better. And the memory is distant enough that it outbalances the bitterness with the sweet.

"Oh, well," Heinz starts, darting a glance right out the window where he can see-yes, there, the cheery yellow sign on the corner by the parlor. "Right there, see?" He points, and Dakota humors him by looking, though Heinz knows he doesn't see anything. No phantoms of platypus agents pass. "It was maybe, what, 5? 6 years ago? I had only just started my evil career, and it must've been more successful than I thought. I had just finished taking out my passport photo and I saw a glimpse of him, a shadow behind the mailbox. I realised I was being followed and, well. You know. I'd gotten the email about the permanent nemeses assignation the week before and I'd learn since then Perry the Platypus really did actually know how to be sneakier. I had no evil schemes for the day, just errands, and he tailed me all day. I wouldn't know his face until he actually showed up to thwart me the day after, so I suppose if you were splitting hairs we formally met the day after but. Yknow. We both disagree. That was the day I met Perry."

The happiest day of my life, he had told Peter the Panda, years before. He had taken one of his first copies of his photos from the aforementioned day and hung it up the wall to commemorate. Peter had kicked a hole straight through the nose, but Heinz had patched it up with tape and hung it back up anyway. Heinz had seen Perry hang it's frame back up carefully, whenever they've accidentally knocked it down since, and he knew the man understood it's unspoken significance. He'd liked the photo. He appreciated the sentiment.

He used to at least. Before the sinkhole. But they've had better photos since. Photos where they were together. Perry was a menace about photo memoirs, so it wasn't a total loss.

Perhaps it would've been easier if it was.

Vinnie's face twitched, as it often does whenever Murphy and Friends were reminded of his previous career. Heinz gets the feeling they never quite believe him, or they felt it was very unlike him. "God, I forget about that. He was your nemeses? I thought you said he was your partner."

"Same difference." Heinz says, as the waitress returns with their order. He took no time before doing the taste test, and while the fries is sure to lose their crispness soon enough (he can tell, more of a reason to go through them as soon as possible), their dipping sauces made it more than worth it. Vinnie indulged a bit more slowly, and when Heinz turns to look, the man looks expectant. Skeptic.

"Is it?" He asks, and Heinz, for some reason, bristles.

"It is." He insists, and before he could stop himself, he hears himself say, "He's the most important person in my life."

Vinnie's eyebrow twitches sharply, before it comes back down, and he turns to frown at the fries in thought. Heinz doesn't like the look of it, but at least it wasn't judgemental. Vinnie digs into the fries, and he doesn't look at Heinz as he asks; "How does that work? Is he your enemy, your friend...?"

"He's my nemeses." Heinz repeats himself, then shakes his head. "We fight against each other, with each other, for each other. He's my...he was my friend. He was my best friend. He was....he was my rock. He....his whole job was to stop me from, sure, taking over the tri-state area and my somewhat successful evil endeavours, but he does so many things for me, and off the clock we hung out. He picks my Vanessa up from her club activities after school and takes her shopping, and we do bowling on Thursdays. We meet each other weekly, almost daily, for the last 5 years, and he…he knows everything about me.”

He sees me, Heinz doesn't say, by some miracle. I see him.

“Vanessa,” Vinnie echoes, and points at him with a dripping fry. “Your daughter.”

“You've met her.”

He has. He and Cavendish had spotted them walking together outside the Googolplex mall last week on their weekend together, and she had been happy, excited to meet his new friends. Other evil scientists, she's said, didn't count.

This was, of course, before their—Vinnie and Cavendish—little tiff. He's not surprised he remembers; Vanessa was naturally very memorable.

“So an enemy,” Vinnie says, and it takes Heinz a moment to realize he's talking about Perry. “But an enemy of 5 years, which sort of made him…a friend?”

“Well I…,” Heinz trails off, staring thoughtfully into the nearly depleted basket of fries much like Vinnie had not two minutes ago. “I suppose so.”

The sentence felt simultaneously true even as it was…outrageously simplified. Much like how one could say that penguin was a sort of bird, but the sentence could lead into outrageous assumptions if specifications were not extrapolated on. He is my friend, Heinz wanted to say, but could he? Friends trusted each other, didn't they? Friends stuck around. Friends stayed, they were there when you needed them to be. Friends didn't need monetary incentives or manipulative moral obligations to hang out with you, and for the last couple of years, he had thought Perry had ticked all of those boxes for him, that they ticked all of those boxes for each other. Friends believed in you, and Heinz had thought Perry had believed in him.

More fool him, Heinz supposed.

“So. That's how I met Perry the Platypus. How'd you and that fussy old guy meet?” He asked, in semi-honest curiosity, but mostly to change the subject.

“Cavendish.” Vinnie corrected.

“Sure. What's your story? Was it a misfits stick together sort of story, or-?”

“Something like that. It was, god, a long time ago. In the future. A bit hard to count your ages and cycles when you travel through the time space continuem for a living, but both of us were freshly graduates from the Academy, and we were sitting in for the last stage of testing before we got offical time travel licenses, which had been a sort of driving test…,”

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

DAMNN!!!! It makes me sad how Yves probably doesn’t celebrate his birthday because it probably reminds him of how old he has become 😭 But after rereading the birthday ask, I wanna do something for his birthday, like I’d honestly try to throw a little something for him, even if it’s just the two of us. How would he react to that? But then again I doubt he would tell us his birth date and would NEVER tell us the year so celebrating his birthday would probably be next to impossible. But dang I’d feel bad like being with this man a whole year and realizing like Omg I never got Yves anything for his birthday ☹️

Yves may not like to be reminded of his age, but he does love spending time with you. He knew that you would want to do something nice for him on his birthday. In that case, he would drop hints about his very special day.

Valentines Day; would be the day he chose to represent the day he was born. You would perhaps accidentally take a peep at his passport, Identity card or any seemingly valid documents that contained his alleged birthdate.

14th February, and he will be 34 this year.

He loves roses, jewellery, makeup, handbags, heels, heart-shaped novelty gifts and all things romantic. Yves is sure you would find an easier time to obtain them during heartbreak season.

You might be insecure because everything that's at least touching his standards is out of your budget. So you have to rely on creativity.

Of course, nothing is a surprise for Yves. He knows your works in progress, the trips to the photo printing store, the paper basket filled with rejected, crumpled love poem drafts, hours upon hours of perusing through the internet for cute birthday date ideas... your effort in preparing for it was already more than enough to please him.

Yves definitely loves seeing you try for him. To push past your worries and do it anyway, even if you are shaking out of fear from the thought of him being disappointed.

He would subliminally send you a message that it's not material items Yves is after; it's your company. Gifts and romantic gestures are nice bonuses, but not necessary.

But you're so adamant about doing something nice for his special day, and that warms his heart. So he lets you have your fun and healthy stresses on organizing a nice little dinner for him. Although, he will step in if you're pressuring yourself to the point of deterioration.

Comes the day of 'his' birthday, it's 12 in the morning. He's still awake in his office, typing away at his computer. Yves would appreciate it very much if you greeted him with a hug and a kiss, lightly scolding you for staying up so late but thanking you for your attentiveness nonetheless. If you live separately, you can give him a call or a text wishing him a happy birthday, and he will answer or reply immediately without fail. With some nagging that you should have adequate sleep at night. He doesn't hide the delight in his voice or face, though.

If you've been paying attention, the ideal birthday present for him is... you. Yves would very much rather pamper you instead as if it's celebrating yours, cooking up all your favorite meals, bringing you to your favorite places... but alas, it is your turn to spoil him with whatever you have in store.

You spent the last few days practicing how to cook something that you think is 'fancy' and 'expensive'. You emptied your pockets for that week but it was all worth it, you mastered making a dish that you thought Yves would like, you think. A cake you attempted to make from scratch, is obviously not made by a professional, but the love and care are evident.

Assuming you live with him, a perfect window of opportunity presents itself when Yves is suddenly extremely busy with work, so he has to hide himself in the office. You hurried to set up everything, the presents, the dining table, the candles, the food, and the plates. It was such a coincidence, that he's done as soon as you put your final touches on your dishes.

He would appear pleasantly surprised, tilting his head to the side and gracefully concealing the widest smile on his face with his manicured fingers. You can see his eyes glimmering out of joy, which in turn makes you feel proud and giddy as well. For the presentation alone, Yves is already sure to reward you handsomely.

You pulled the chair out for him, and he thanked you as Yves elegantly took a seat.

You sat down opposite of him, face and neck already covered in lipstick prints before even picking up the sleek champagne bottle. He found it adorable, you can barely afford the lower-end ones, yet you still try. He was monitoring your spending behavior and noticed that you're saving excessively for something, he is happy to know that you used it to get something luxurious for him.

His gaze never left yours as he clinked glasses with you.

Yves made sure to praise you for all your hard work, and he is exceptionally giggly today. Not because he thinks your efforts are funny, but because it's quite difficult to contain his admiration and fondness for you. And it is also because of the sight of you being decorated in his lipstick. He genuinely thinks your cooking is delicious, perhaps a tad bit too oily, salty, sweet, or burnt for his taste, or he simply didn't like that particular food. You wouldn't know, because it seems like Yves ate something that was meant for the gods. It was exquisite because it was made by you with loving intent.

Perhaps you're shy, a bit skittish, and blushing. You somehow thought writing romantic poems and reading them out loud for him to hear would be something he would be keen on. And you were absolutely correct. You could cringe at your own voice and work as much as you want, but Yves is cherishing it deeply.

He knows you would stutter when he sensually caressed you on your thigh, he did it anyway to see such a cute reaction from you. Yves would hold onto every word, listening intently and staring at you with such devotion.

Please don't take his peals of laughter at the end as mockery, it was purely out of glee and love for you, the ticklish feeling in his chest needed to escape somehow. Yves would pull you in a tight, but comforting hug, showering you with so much praise and affection, that you would think you're the world's greatest poet.

He would sit on his chair, crossing his legs, and adoringly watched you scramble to show him all your gifts. Predictably, they're all Valentine's Day-themed, rouge and hearts all around, his favorite.

You truly knew how to make him feel like a queen. Bouquets of fragrant roses, chocolates, even handmade crafts that you slaved over for him... they're all priceless and worth much more than anything in the world. He was slow and careful in unwrapping them, Yves everything, down to the strip of tape you used to keep the wrapping paper together, as intact as possible as they're going to be preserved in his compendium.

You gifted him an expensive lipstick in a shade that he would like. Such a wonderfully attentive partner you are, how could you have possibly known that he loves all things lip pigments? He must simply try it, so he did on the spot, using you as his little canvas.

Oh, he loves that hue on you. Yves made sure to test it out a couple more times, on your forehead, cheek, and lips. Yves would twist it back into its container, cap it, and keep it away before finally permitting you to leave his lap.

There's more, you scampered off into the kitchen. Leaving him alone to deal with his high for a while.

You emerged again with a crooked cake. The piping is uneven, it says "Hapy BDay Yves!!!" in crude frosting- you didn't think the spacing through, and hence it was horribly off-centered, and a singular, lit candle is stuck in the eye of the cake. It was perfection.

You watched him quizzingly as his emerald eyes began tearing up, droplets rolling down his cheek as he smiled wide. He daintily patted the tears away with his trembling fingertips, Yves was speechless and incapacitated by his extreme urge to squeeze you, his cuteness and aggression reaching debilitating levels.

He had to expel all that extra energy somehow, so he resorted to crying out of joy. Yves knew what you were about to do, he knew all that was going to happen, but he could never account for the overwhelm he would feel when you do something special like this. It's embarrassing to Yves, but he pushed that feeling aside and thought about how grateful he is to have you instead.

It would take him a couple minutes to compose himself, a handful of deep breaths before he is confident that he wouldn't bite you like a rabid dog.

You invited him to make a wish, and he did so silently, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. Yves was so earnest and fervent that you would think he was saying a sincere prayer. Whatever he wished for, you notice there is that desperation in him for it to come true.

He cuts it with you, your back pressing against his front as he holds both your hands in his. Guiding the blade through the baked goods.

He asked if you and he could share a slice, and Yves would spoon-feed you and himself using the same utensils. It's much more intimate and romantic that way. And, maybe it would invoke some nostalgia too.

Yves is saving the best parts for you, be it the cherries, chocolate barks, sprinkles, strawberries... it's yours.

You wonder if he is having a fever because the hand that is holding your chin is unusually warm and his face is pink. He watched you with half-lidded eyes which you mistook as sleepiness and not lovesickness.

You beguiled him enough to earn yourself a night of heavenly sex. It's definitely not your first time, so you knew how fucking difficult it is to convince Yves to do that with you. And you knew how damn good he is in the bedroom.

Naturally, you're shaking in excitement as Yves gives you a nod as he sensually caresses you under your chin. Opportunities like this are rare, of course, you're frothing at the mouth thinking about what awaits you later.

He told you to unwind in the bedroom first while he cleans up. Yves didn't have to say a word more before you took off running.

Yves laughed to himself as he gathered the empty dishes, thinking about the vase he would be putting the fresh roses in.

This may not be everyone's ideal way of spending their birthday; ending the day by doing chores. But that's the way Yves likes it and he wouldn't change his mind for the world, he's stubborn in his ways and loves predictability. Taking care of you is his greatest joy in life. Which isn't all that surprising, Yves is a Taurus, after all.

[crystalsnow95z]

your allergy fics are so good! would you be able to write one with jungkook? any caretaker, with jungkook coming into contact with something he's terribly allergic to but he wants to enjoy (like a bouquet of flowers or a cute kitten idk) and it sets him off sneezing a ton, with a super itchy nose. thank you!

I have plenty of mostly finished projects, but I can't bring myself to post them, so I keep working on new ones, and after months, I finally made one I like!

"Jaykay...Jungkook-ah.. wake up.. we're landing.." Hoseok shakes the mankae when his gentle approach doesn't work. "Jaykay your face is so puffy.." Hoseok smiles fondly, grabbing Jungkook's face and smooshing his face in between his fingers.

Jungkook moans in complaint, his eyes fluttering open to look at Hoseok. "Hyung..what time is it?" he grabs Hoseok's wrist to get him to stop attacking his cheeks, rubbing at his eyes. "It's morning still?"

"It is..Good morning Junggukkie." Hoseok smiles, feeling pride in successfully getting him to start moving. "It's because of the time difference. Remember?"

Jungkook studies his surroundings perplexed before his eyes widen with recognition when the sleep that fogged his memory dissipates, replaced with excitement. "Oh! I know! We're filming a music video!I'm so excited! We're going to be filming by a real waterfall and going to a garden with hundreds of different flowers and we're going to work with birds!" The memory of the meeting floods over him.

"We're going to get amazing photos. I wonder if we'll get to see a real toucan." Taehyung adds in his own excitement, leaning forward to talk to Jungkook.

"Toucan? Do you really think we can see a real one? I've seen videos of them and they don't look real." Hoseok adds in.

"Everyone, please return to your seats and buckle up." The boys hear the announcement, gathering up their things.

"Namjoon-ah do you have everything?" Yoongi asks, placing his tablet into his bag.

"Of course. You gifted me a holder for my passport after that incident in japan.." Namjoon pulls out the passport that was tucked into his shirt.

"That's because we almost couldn't perform.. you're lucky that man found it in the bathroom for you.. What about your headphones?"

Namjoon opens his airpod case, ears reddening when he sees there's only one inside, feeling around his seat until he finds it. "You knew i lost one didn't you hyung.."

"It fell out when you were sleeping." Yoongi smiles, then gasps in surprise when the turbulence hits, clutching onto the armrest, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

"You okay Yoongi?" Jin asks, taking out his headphones when he feels Yoongi's hand brush against his arm.

"I'm okay, my stomach just fluttered.." Yoongi swallows the saliva that filled his mouth, taking a deep breath. "It'll pass.."

"We're almost on the ground, and we'll have a few hours to rest." Jin reassures the daegu rapper, taking his hand.

"Thanks hyungie.." Yoongi speaks softly, squeezing Jin's hand.

"You don't have to thank me. Just take it easy until the shoot okay?" Jin gently runs his thumb across Yoongi's knuckles.

"We landed!" Jungkook says excitedly, unbuckling himself, but Hoseok puts his hand on Jungkook's thigh.

"Let's wait a bit to get off Kook-ah." Hoseok orders gently side eyeing Yoongi, who still hadn't regained the color in his cheeks.

"Yes hyung..." Jungkook settles back in, eyes sparkling. It doesn't matter if I have to wait. I'll be able to film with the birds and see the waterfall and take pretty photos for army.

"Is everyone finished changing?" Namjoon asks, looking over his team, frowning when he notices Jungkook's darker outfit in comparison to everyone else's vibrant colors."Jungkook, that's the wrong outfit..that's for the garden shoot.."

"Aish..I'm sorry Hyung.." Jungkook quickly starts stripping to switch outfits. "Everything looks so pretty from the carride and the hotel view..I got excited.." he casts his eyes down guiltily. I'm not some teenager anymore.. I need to concentrate and not make such rookie mistakes.. I should've noticed I didn't match..

"It's okay, just pay attention from now on, alright? We need to focus on filming. We only have so much daylight with outside shoots." Namjoon rubs Jungkook's back, helping him get changed to make it quicker.

"I'll pay attention from now on.." Jungkook promises shyly looking away from Namjoon. After switching to match the others in the mankae line, the seven boys leave the dressing room, Jungkook fighting the urge to run towards the sound of the waterfall.

Hoseok and Jimin links arms with Jungkook, keeping him at pace with the others. "Calm down Jaykay you don't want to risk getting hurt on this uneven ground before we even get there." Hoseok scolds him gently, leading him around a tree root.

"I'll be careful, sorry hyung.." Jungkook watches his feet carefully stepping over branches and stones that made it on the path. Taehyung and Namjoon walk ahead of them, taking photos of the scenery in front of them. "Why can't I run free with Rapmonie hyung and Taehyungie-hyungie?"

"What? You don't want to walk with me?" Jimin pouts, letting go of Jungkook. "Fine, go play with them."

"I didn't mean it like that Jimin-shii.. I just wanted to go ahead too.." Jungkook relinks his arm with Jimin pulling him and Hoseok to walk ahead with the others.

"Look Hyung! That tree.. it's filled with birds." Jungkook points our, his voice scaring the birds into fleeing in several directions.

"Kook-ah you scared them away." Namjoon frowns, watching them go with disappointment.

"I'm sor..ah..ah.." Jungkook puts his hand over his nose with an itch forms, breath hitching. "Ah..heygifh!"

"[Bless you]" Jimin speaks in English. "You okay? Not catching a cold are you? You did sleep the whole plane ride.."

"No, no I'm okay..my nose just had a bad itch.."Jungkook sniffles, wiping his nose with the side of his hand. "A feather must've tickled my nose or something..I haven't felt sick today."

"I can see the waterfall!" Jin announces, everyone looking forward, trying to spot it through the trees.

"Oh wow, it's bigger than I thought it would be.." Yoongi's eyes widen when he sees it, the boys rushing to get closer.

Jungkook bends down to take a photo of a cluster of flowers,trying to ignore the itch that annoyed the tip of his nose.

"Don't get too close to the water, Jungkook-ah. You need to stay dry for the shoot."

"I won't hyung..I'm just looking at the flowers.." Jungkook's breath hitches when another sneeze builds up, but he gently rubs it away. I can't be getting sick now.. we're spending four days in a tropical paradise.

"Did you get water in your nose Gukkie?" Taehyung asks when he approaches Jungkook, the younger jumping when he sees Taehyung next to him.

"Aish, Hyung you scared me.. I didn't hear you coming over the water. I don't know what's wrong with me, but .ah..agh..heh'ticgish!" Jungkook quickly covers his face, Taehyung grabbing the back of his shirt to keep him balanced. "Ugh. Thanks Taehyungie-hyung. I was fine earlier..I don't know why I'm sneezing all of a sudden.."

"Maybe it's all the flowers.. maybe you should take some medicine just in case.." Taehyung suggests, pulling Jungkook away from them.

"But I want to get some good shots for Army to see." Jungkook whines, but makes no attempt to pull away.

"We have to work now. We can take photos together later, and I can take photos for you if you can't get close." Taehyung promises leading him back to the others. "Is there any way we can get allergy medicine for Jungkook? His nose is getting red and stuffy.."

"I'm sorry, but we would have to go back to the resort for that.. I'll send someone to go get some. Do you think you can film until then Jungkook-sii?" The manager asks.

"Yes, I'll be okay. It's not that bad. It's just an annoyance.. I can still film.." Jungkook replies politely.

A female staff member digs in her purse, handing him a small packet of tissues. "Here Jungkook. Blowing your nose might help."

"Thanks Noona.." he bows, turning away from the others to try to clear his nose of the clear goo. "That's much better.."

As soon as the seven members get their makeup redone and the director gives them their directions, the boys get right to work going through the scenes and choreography.

"Jimin-ah..you weren't looking in the same direction as the others and you led on the wrong foot.." Hoseok scolds him when they were reviewing the clips, noticing Jimin was looking at Jungkook who couldn't stop sniffling, fighting off the urge to sneeze.

"I'm sorry.. can we do it one more time? I'll get it right this time." Jimin bows in apology to his members, looking at Jungkook when he does it. Jungkookie looks uncomfortable..I need to get it right the first time so he can get some time to rest.

Jungkook tries to hold back another sneeze when he sees Jimin's worried gaze staring back at him, but Jimin could see his nose twitching as the itch builds up.

"Noona will be back soon.." Jimin gently uses his thumb to wipe the tear that formed in Jungkook's tear duct. "You don't have to be tough for us, okay?"

"I'm not crying..my eyes are just watering because of my allergies.." Jungkook sniffles. "I'm okay..it's just irrita..ah..itdgitch! Heh'itchu!"

"Bless you.." Hoseok frowns, hugging Jungkook from behind. "My poor baby.."

"Jungkook-sii I got..you the medicine." The staff member who ran to the resort calls to him, out of breath from running back.

Taehyung rushes over to get the medicine from her, popping the blister pack to get the round pink pill for Jungkook, bringing it back to him. "Here Jungkookie, I got it."

"Thanks Hyung." Jungkook swallows the pill Taehyung gives him, Jimin getting him water to help it go down quicker. "Let's do the shoot again."

"You don't want time for it to kick in?” Jin asks, fretting over the youngest.

Jungkook shakes his head."No, I already got us behind schedule with all the touch ups.. I can do it.."

Jungkook and Taehyung rush ahead of the other members despite the older members calling to them,unable to hear them over the sound of the birds.

"Oh wow.. it's so pretty!" Jungkook's pupils take over his irises, his eyes becoming to round black discs, taking in the special guests for their music video. "Oh wow..This one's purple..I never seen a purple bird before!'

"This is [purple honeycreeper.] This one rescue. I thought he would be perfect for you ." The bird handler smiles when he sees the boys look surprised at his Korean skills.

"[Purple honeycreeper..]" Jungkook repeats the name in English. "[What's bird name?]"

"[Ah, right introductions...] I'm Gary and this bird here is Viola."

"Can I touch?" Jungkook asks, ignoring his body's warning. The medicine helped him yesterday, but at the moment he felt just as bad as he did the first day they were filming.

"Hold out finger." Gary tells him, showing Taehyung what to do by getting Viola to go on his finger. "[Step up Viola.]" He gives the command, letting her climb onto his finger.

The other members catch up, taking in the sights of the colorful birds surrounding them.

Jungkook holds his to Viola, gasping when he feels the bird use its beak to balance herself while she climbs onto his finger. "Look Hyung..i'm holding a bird!" Jungkook sniffles, turning to the man. "Can i pet?"

"As long as you only touch her head and neck." Gary gently ordered.

"You can't touch a bird anywhere else or it will think you want to mate." Yoongi tells Jungkook.

Jungkook turns to the handler, who blushes."Ah, that's true. It.. excites them if you touch its wings or chest too much.."

Jungkook nods, gently touching Viola's head, gently ruffling the feathers. Oh no.. not now..

Jungkook quickly places his hand on Taehyung's shoulder, hoping the bird would have a safe escape from the sneezes he could feel coming despite his efforts to hold them back. "Heh'heh..heygifh! Heh'itchu! Higtcvhsgh!"

Viola screeches, flapping her wings in fear jumping off of Jungkook's hand and jumping onto Taehyung's head, trying to get farther from the sound that startled her.

The other birds go into panic at the sound of viola, Hoseok clinging to Namjoon when they take flight.

Jungkook covers his face,trying to muffle the sound, but when the birds take flight the feeling only worsens. "Hehtichih!"

"[Woah, Woah. It's okay Viola.. it's okay..]" Taehyung tries to speak English for the frightened bird, Gary trying to calm his other pets down.

"Somethings wrong you need to get away.." Jin starts leading Jungkook away from the chaos, his heart racing in fear.

I can't breathe..I need to calm down..

Jungkook staggered away from the others, Jin keeping a tight grip on the mankae"Woah Jungkook I got you.."

"Heh..hehitxgh! Heh'itchu! Hey'itchi!" Jungkook let out another flurry of sneezes, holding Jin tightly. It wasn't the flowers..

"Here Jungkookie, look at me.." Jin gently leads his chin up, taking a nasal spray from the bag he was given as an accessory. "I got this just in case.."

"Thanks hyung.." Jungkook sniffles, taking it from Jin. "Heh'itchii! Hey'itchi!" He sneezes as soon as he puts it near his nose only amplifying the itch that plagued his sinuses.

"Here let hyung do it." Jin gently grabs Jungkook's chin, tilting his head upwards. "Try to sit still for me. I'll make it quick..okay?"

Jungkook nods, holding his breath to try to avoid sneezing on Jin as he swiftly sprays the medicine into one nostril than the other.

"Hei' etfhitch! Heh'itchu!" Jungkook's eyes water as he sneezes. "I'm sorry Hyung.."

"It's okay baby.. I know you aren't feeling well." Jin rubs the back of Jungkook's neck. "I think your allergic to birds Jungkookie.."

"I was around birds before..I was fine.." Jungkook sniffles, rubbing at his nose to try to ease the itch that threatened to cause more sneezes to erupt from him.

"You can develop new allergies Kook-ah.. I know how excited you were to play with them, but outside of filming I think you should avoid them." Jin tells him solemnly.

Yoongi goes up to them with a small packet of tissues,giving it to Jungkook. "They got the birds under control, but they want to give them time to fully calm down."

"That's good. I was worried I ruined the...heh..heh.." Jungkook felt the sneeze building, but it was only a false start. "Ruined the music shoot.." he finishes, his voice coming out as a nasally whisper, trying to clear his nose to see if that would ease the discomfort that was making him miserable.

"It's not your fault, Jungkookie. We could always make changes. What's important is that you don't suffer for the shoot. Even if you push through it, army will be able to see how much you're suffering." Yoongi puts his arm around Jungkook, pulling him close.

"I'll go get the others so we can see what our next move is. We'll figure this out together, okay Kookie?" Jin leaves to the filming site.

"Hyung I really wanted to play with the birds.." Jungkook sighs, knowing that all the members would agree with Jin.

"I know. Life sucks.. now you and Jiminie can suffer together." Yoongi teases him lightly, getting a small smile out of Jungkook.

[semifilms]

Hello, hello. I’m new here so I don’t know how many character I can request but may I request headcanons of vacations with Suna, oikawa and semi

☆VACATIONS W/ THEM | suna rintaro, toru oikawa, semi eita, atsumu miya

a/n - i actually love this prompt anon and i apologize for being very late to respond and do it 😭i hope you don’t mind that i added atsumu to this🫡 also i got a little carried away & i didn’t proofread 🙈

cw - light swearing

suna doesn’t remember almost anything when you guys are packing. it’s like all basic necessities he needs, he forgets. on the plane ride he is sleeping almost the whole time, he’s dreading the jetlag but he wants to be prepared for the long day you guys have planned. wherever you decide to vacation he’s excited to be there as long as you are. you’re happy, he’s happy. the only thing he’s really looking forward to might be sleeping in the hotel. the plane seats were not comfortable. you think he paid for first class? no. once he gets real good sleep in he’s actually so much more energetic and is ready to go do little tourist things. he takes servers pictures of you guys at landmarks and restaurants just to save to a little album on his phone <3

oikawa is basically vlogging the whole process of picking and the trip. he honestly isn’t that forgetful but he’ll forget like one thing and it’s probably really important. seems like the type to overpack and forget his passport. also definitely wants to be their 2 hours early. you guys would grub on airport food until the flight. and yes, you’re definitely flying first class i don’t think i could picture him settling in economy. he’s seen the movies and he’s experienced those crying toddlers and those unlucky seats in between sweaty strangers. he’s not up for that at all. he would definitely post pictures of you guys posing in front of landmarks to his socials. or the food you guys eat at restaurants. i feel like i’m his instagram close friends he’s rating the food like he’s keith lee. overall it’s a very enjoyable vacation.

SEMIIIIIII my love<<333. (my bad) anyway, he makes sure you don’t forget anything. he made a list and he checked it not once, not twice, but three times he had to make sure. you guys leave prepared and you get to the airport 20 minutes before departure. i’m sorry but he’s not trying to wait in the airport for 5 hours, like some people…. if there are any types of street performers music wise or whatever he will stop so you two can watch. (definitely leaving tips.) going to an art museum is on the itinerary. he just likes making little jokes about the art and interpreting it in a funny way and not making it deep. but he also really appreciates the art and especially street art (if any where you vacationed) he will make small talk with older natives to wherever you visit and listen to their stories. even if he’s not interested he acts like he is. he’s making the most out of the vacation that’s for sure.

now i’ve thought about atsumu on vacation several times this is why i had to include him. he’s forgetful when you’re packing, no doubt but in the end he remembers everything and you guys BARELY make it in time to the airport. you’d think with how often he’s flown he’d be better but no. this man is looking forward to fucking up some foreign food. he is using this vacation as an excuse for whatever diet he is on. fans spot him in the airport when you guys arrive and the amount of paparazzi is insane. nonetheless he is really just has his arm wrapped around you as you guys head out to the ride waiting for you. NICE ASS HOTEL! NICE ASS HOTEL! 100% got one of those rooms that looks like an apartment. did you guys watch singles inferno? like those. back to the food he is cleaning plates and trying every single dish recommend at the restraints. hell take some photos of landmarks but he’s rather just enjoy it with you in the moment.

©semifilms do not copy, repost or translate my works

reblogs appreciated!

[buff-muffin]

Travelling Luffy modern AU:

A modern AU where when Luffy met Shanks as a kid he and his mates were living in a van travelling the country probably as some form of criminal but no one in the sleepy village of Foosha knew him. And it inspired Luffy to travel when he grew up. So after high school Luffy picks up random jobs saving money for himself and others to travel going on these grand trips over seas and when he gets back squats at a new friends place and finds a new shitty job to save money and does it all again. He tries to get all his friends to travel with him though it doesn’t always work out so it’s usually two or three of them.

And even in completely different countries Luffy just has a way of befriending the locals finding the best restaurants and activities and even making genuine friends who he is still pen pals with years later. So many times the craziest things have happened to him but Luffy never takes photos on his journey so Nami and the other Strawhats had made it their mission to document every bullshit lucky occasion because no one will believe him otherwise.

His car broke down? Yeah turns out the mayor of the city found them and helped them out. Now they regularly share animal pics. The random old man he befriended in a big city? Yeah turns out he’s actually one of shank’s dads and a criminal and while though retired is still conning a casino for their money and running from the government. The tall rando he fought at a restaurant before both of them decided to just eat and chill? Turns out his mother is one of the biggest gang leaders in the country and he is her right hand man.

Ace also travels but never as frequently as Luffy does now. He’s seen the big places and heard plenty of stories from his friends (the white beards) but is pretty happy in the city. So it’s always a pleasant surprise when the random stranger Luffy befriended happens to know is big brother.

It’s even funnier if you imagine that’s how Luffy meets the grandline strawhats. Like Robin was an exchange student staying overseas, he befriended and greeted her when she returned home. Chopper was graduating high school in a sleepy snow town and because of Luffy decided to head to the university local to him to become a doctor. Franky was actually a professional mechanic and after talking and a lot of pushing decided to make a better name for himself in Luffy’s town for a fresh start. Brook was an old professional singer who was stuck over seas they randomly found and decided to help out, renewing his passport finding his birth certificate ect. He now performs at bars and is working on a solo career. Jimbe was travelling for his own kind of work though after a few encounters with Ace and then Luffy, he found himself so charmed and in need to settle a little, chose to become a teacher at the local university.

The one time Luffy flew by himself because none of his friends could make time he ended up having to stay over seas for two years due to issues with his visa. By some fucking miracle Rayleigh was there and ended up looking after the kid helping him with his piss poor education, inability to hold a stable job and his own house. Luffy came home to the biggest party ever and while most of his friends graduated he started taking online courses while travelling got a share apartment with Zoro and started really cleaning up his resume and not quitting his fucking job every time he traveled.

Luffy just has the travel bug and a need for adventure and has taken all of the east blue gang with him multiple times on these adventures. Something always goes wrong but works out in the best ways.

[witchthewriter]

𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐲 & 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: swears

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

gif credit: @rebecca-quin.

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You had been taking Barbie to see the new toys in your closest mall. She instantly went to the doll section, where there were many Barbies (that made her nostalgic) lining the aisles.

"Oh! They've come out with a new one! Oh we so have to show Mami this one-" Barbie said as she took a box from the shelf and showed it to you.

・The box said in big purple letters: 'Barbie as a wrestler!' And it had her alter identity - a purple wig with make-up you could add onto her, it also came with the championship belt along with other accessories.

・Both of you were excited out of your minds, and couldn't wait to send a photo to Rhea

・Rhea was currently in another state, probably in the gym. You both went to as many matches as possible, but sometimes Rhea had to travel just to film scenes

・And yes, you both call Rhea, 'Mami,' it's like a proper nickname. Any weirdness has been erased from it

・Barbie cries while watching nearly every movie - even lighthearted ones.

・When your relationship was first beginning to solidify, Barbie said that she wanted to experience the whole of being a human. (Even though you shook your head).

・To Rhea, that meant taking Barbie on every rollercoaster???

・To you, it meant a lot of sightseeing and listening to people's stories and histories.

・You three like to travel together; Rhea always has everyone's luggage under control, you have everyone's passports, and Barbie makes sure everyone has sunscreen on/has drunk water/gone to the toilet

・You honestly make a great team

・And although Barbie could be thought of as a stereotypical dumb blonde who is inexperienced and a lost puppy - it's far from the truth. She's a quick learner, very kind, open-minded and adores animals.

・It was actually Rhea who put a stop to Barbie's endless adoptions. Because she would save animals who were due to be put down because no one wanted them. But she got too emotional when they got hurt or had to go to the vet (she gets attached to things very easily).

・Dom is a tad jealous of the relationship you have with Rhea. But again, you and Barbie let him fawn all over her during the WWE episodes.

・He's a pretty cool guy though, and has invited you to a few of the WWE parties

・Finn is polite, but doesn't really talk to you guys much. Damien is different though, he's very inclusive and loves seeing you two with Rhea.

・He calls you and Barbie his "best girls!"

・So, all in all, Judgement Day approves of you - not like Rhea would care if they didn't (they would not go against her ... ever)

・Barbie is a nose booper

・Rhea was actually the first person to say "I love you"

・Barbie has bandaids on her ALWAYS

・You try and keep your relationship on the DL when in public - for many reasons actually. Rhea has fans, and you don't want to bring too much attention to the fact that Rhea and Dom aren't actually together. And you don't want attention from the public - Barbie definitely doesn't. The thought actually causes her to hyperventilate.

・You and Barbie have scary dog privilege with Rhea - no one fucks with you.

・Rhea actually hates being in small areas - she's a bit claustrophobic

・You and Rhea let Barbie practice make up on you. She's ... getting better at it ...

・You're the blanket hog btw - Barbie and Rhea always whine when you roll up in the blanket

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Style (cover) by Ryan Adams

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Black Cat (You) x Golden Retriever (Barbie) x Doberman (Rhea)

The Impulsive (Rhea) x The Chaotic (You) x The Unheeded Voice of Reason (Barbie - surprisingly)

Makes A Mess (Rhea) x Cleans The Mess (You) x Is A Mess (Barbie)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆  

Secret Dating

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞 no one under 18 past this point!

・It took a while for all three of you to figure out how sex was going to play out

・It took Barbie a while to understand her own body, so neither you or Rhea pushed her. You were both patient in letting her discover herself.

・But Barbie knew she liked women...

・A lot

・When entering the human world and deciding to stay, Barbie's body changed. So she does have a vagina

・And she very much likes to receive head. That's one of the things she's adamant about liking. She may still be discovering things - but Barbie loves head

・Rhea is a dominant person, but also likes to be dominated. Ironically, Barbie really likes to dominate and you're a big switch.

・Barbie likes to sit on Rhea's lap and nuzzle into her cleavage - pretty much making her a boobs gal, but she does like to check out your ass's every now and then

・Rhea is ass over boobs, it's why hers is so ... supple

・The bedroom is the best place to do sexual things as a throuple

・You guys have tried the shower (someone always got too cold), the bath (not all of you fit), the car (same thing - it was too difficult to manuever), toilet stall in the airport (way too sus with three people)

・So it's the best at home, where you have a lot of space to move

・Barbie makes very sexy moans; when she's about to cum, she makes a loud whine that is the prettiest noise

・Rhea LOVES dirty talk

"Whose in charge?" You growl in Rhea's ear as Barbie grabs and kneads Rhea's ass

"You are," she rasps

[onboardsorasora]

Isabel (@rizzstappen) showed me this DARLING photo of Daniel (that I am going to hoard like a dragon until I write about it!) But I still wanted to write for our himbo disney princess baby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Part 4

It took no time at all for Charles and Lando to be endeared to Daniel. In fact, it took 20 minutes and a short explanation about why Sassy couldn't also be in these ‘passport photos’. 

Daniel instead made them promise to take 'passport photos' for Sassy because she's a good cat and deserves to get to fly like the birds too. Not wanting to be left out, Jimmy had padded over and chirped at Lando– a sound Max had never heard him make. And that's how Jimmy got his own 'passport photos' done. 

Now Lando and Charles were giggling with Daniel on the floor by the patio doors stroking Jimmy and Sassy reverently because before today the cats have never even sniffed in their direction. 

"It's because you move too quickly and smelled like a big dog one time." Daniel had said sagely, kissing the top of Sassy’s head, between her ears.

Charles' brow furrowed– he was still reasonably wrapping his mind around the fact that Daniel was actually speaking to and understanding the cats.

"You should go to Alex's house. They have like 12 cats, a dog and a horse." Lando said offhandedly. Which Max thought was the absolutely incorrect thing to say because Daniel's eyes shot up in pleasurable surprise and he turned those big brown cow eyes on to Max imploringly. 

Max stood stock still, he had been in the middle of emailing the photos of Daniel to Michelle and now he wished he could turn invisible. Was he also magically adept? How did one find out? Could he pee in a cup like a drug test or did they prick your skin like an allergy test?

"Max, can we?" He asked with a hopeful smile, a tender slash of his lips. "Please?"

And Max…normally he has no problem saying no. He's even told his nephews no when they beg him with a similar pleading look. But there's something about Daniel's big eyes that made him want to cave in and say yes.

"I…" Max sighed because he was weak to Daniel's charms. Weak to that beautiful expressive face. "We can find out if he's home I guess." 

The three men on the floor cheered happily and Max blinked because he had completely forgotten that Lando and Charles were there. Daniel bounced to his feet and launched himself into Max's arms in excitement– his mouth wide in a happy happy smile. 

Max caught him– hello, reflexes– and was stunned at how Daniel's face transformed in his glee. He was struck dumb, maybe. Daniel tucked his head into Max’s neck, he was so so happy. Monaco was amazing, everyone he’s met so far were so nice! (Except the birds, sadly)

“He says he’s home and we can come over for a games night. He’ll order pizza.” Recited Lando and Daniel jumped at the mention of pizza. Max had promised him pizza and now he’ll get to meet 15 cats, 2 dogs and horses and get pizza?? This was the best day ever. Monaco was the best ever.

Daniel kissed Max’s cheek in his exuberance and started singing about his new friends and Monaco. Lando and Charles, who truly weren’t paying attention before, were once again stunned silent while Daniel’s tattoos shuffled and glowed and the cats became boneless purring monsters in their hold. 

“Holy fuck Mate.” Lando whispered in awe, Charles nodded silently. Max’s attention was on the bit of his cheek that still felt warm from Daniel’s lips. Was it normal to feel jealous of your own body?

Part 5

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (A Modern Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings- Angst, violence, death, smut.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 3113

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Masterlist

Chapter 14 - Final Chapter

He is in a meeting when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Well, it’s not really a meeting, more of an information gathering session in a warehouse involving sharp instruments and spilled blood. He’s been taking on more and more of these ‘meetings’ since she disappeared, a good way to expel some of his rage and sadness productively.

He walks away from the man he is dealing with, wipes his hands on a cloth and gets his phone out to an interesting message on his screen.

One of her passports was used to get into the country three hours ago.

A smile quirks onto his lips very briefly followed by a deep inhalation of breath.

“You, take over from here. Just kill him. I’ve got the information I need now.”

He hears a gunshot behind him as he heads out to his armoured SUV to take him back to the estate.

When he arrives back he doesn’t go to the main house but straight to their house. He knows Ragnar would have got the same message and he needs to check something out first before he sees his father. He hurries to their shared closet, still full of her clothes and he pulls out the black shoes with the red soles, her stash spot, pulling out an untraceable phone. He turns it on and waits. The phone beeps twice. Two messages. Both from anonymous numbers, both from her.

Coming home. Too dangerous now.

See me before they get to me? I will come alone. I miss you so much.

He texts back quickly.

Yes. Will message soon. I love you. Thank you for all the photos last week, baby.

As he stashes the phone back he lets his finger run over the notebook that took him less than three days to decipher. One of the reasons he searched so hard for her and established secret communication. He cried for days when he broke the code and read her words. An anthology of love, dating from the night they met, describing every feeling she ever had for him, her deep love, the light he had reignited inside her after years of living in the black. Much as he had before he met her. The reasons why she acted as she did after Sardinia, the threats made against his life, the coldness she showed him when underneath she felt nothing but adoration. She explained it all in a diary she never intended for anyone to read. Her soul lives in these pages, and so does his.

Always and forever, no matter how far apart.

———————

He heads to the main house and into his fathers study.

”I am sure you’ve seen the message. She has returned.” Ragnar says without looking up from his papers.

Ivar nods. “I’ll take care of it. She will contact me soon, I’m sure of it.”

Ragnar looks up and stares into his son's eyes, carbon copies of his own. “Will you be able to finish the job this time? She cannot live, Ivar. She simply must die. If you feel like you can’t do it, or she will get the drop on you again I’ll send a whole team to hunt her down.”

“I’ll do it father. She is my responsibility. I will not fuck it up again. I’ll let you know when she contacts me and what the plan is from there.”

Ragnar nods in agreement and rounds his desk to embrace his son. “I am sorry for this, sorry it has to be done. You understand though?”

“I do. It’s been a long time coming,” Ivar says tersely, “I’ll speak to you soon.”

———————

He leaves the estate in his own vehicle, he drives for an hour and no one is following him. He pulls into a multi-storey car park and switches cars and drives for an hour to another car park and does the same.

It’s dark by the time he reaches the hotel. A shitty, off the track hotel he’d never be seen dead in usually. He walks as quickly as he can to a door and knocks three times.

The door opens a fraction and he pushes it the rest of the way, slowly revealing his wife to him. She has her gun pointed at him.

“Alone?”

“Alone, baby.” He steps in and shuts the door behind him before they walk quickly towards each other, arms pulling the other into a tight embrace, clinging to the other, tears falling.

“I missed you so much, Liet.”

“Fuck I missed you so much too.”

They pull at each other’s clothing, frantic to get the other naked as quickly as possible. When their goal is managed they fall onto the crappy, lumpy hotel bed together on their sides, her leg over his waist before he pushes her onto her back and he crawls over her, their mouths attached the whole time. She grabs his hard cock and lines him up a half a second before he pushes deep into her.

Their mirrored groans into each other’s mouths make them giggle.

“Fuck, love, you feel so good,” he says into her mouth before moving her inside of her, drawing deep, low moans from her. “I missed you every second of every day.”

“Me too, Ivar. Harder, please, harder!”

Their fingers dig into each other's skin, pulling into the other, trying to close the millimetres left between their bodies, a desperate need to feel every part of the other, a desperate need to fill the two year gap since they last were with each other physically.

It takes no time for their knowledge of each other’s bodies to kick in and they make each other orgasm. Shuddering against each other, the air blue with obscenities.

When they finally loosen their grip on the other they stay as close as possible, noses touching, laying on their sides, hands running up each other’s backs.

“Hi, baby,” he laughs out.

“Hi, love,” she giggles in reply.

They just stare at each other, who knows for how long. Long enough for him to run his hand through her longer hair. To run his fingers over some new scarring on her body. Long enough for her to touch his thigh where she inflicted a break. Long enough to revel in his eyes and compare them to his.

“Anyone since us, Ivar? Are you happy?”

“No one. No one ever again. Always and forever, baby. You?”

“Never for me, Ivar. You and only you. I need you to be happy again though. After all this.”

Ivar waves his hand as if dismissing her words. There is no point in lying to her, pretending he will ever let anyone in again so he just changes the subject.

“I did what you asked, love, I killed Lev.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she lets out a giggle of relief. “Thank you, Ivar. How?”

“I peeled his skin off slowly and I made him watch videos of us when we were happy, after the accident. He begged for your forgiveness and his life in the end, love.”

A nasty sneer flashes across her face. “Good, he deserves every second of pain you inflicted on him.”

A comfortable silence settles between them again before Ivar breaks it. “Where is he, Liet?”

“He’s safe I promise. I will need to get back to him in the early morning. That’s why I’m back, it’s too dangerous now. I’ve had too many close calls and I’m frightened for him. He needs stability, Ivar. I’m done running. I’m here to face what I need to, and to give you your son. You need to keep him safe from now on. I can’t offer him that any longer.”

Ivar knew this is why she had come back. Knew his men had almost caught her in Belize. Had heard rumours of her father almost tracking her down in Peru. Ivar almost gave himself away numerous times trying to throw them off her and their sons scent, Ragnar was suspicious at one point and that was when the Belize incident happened. He had warned her but a little too late. He begged her to bring his son back to him but she wasn’t ready.

She is ready now.

Ivar clears his throat, trying to dislodge the ball in it. “I am going to talk to my father. Things are different now, with the baby. I… I’ll talk sense into him. We can be toget…” the rest of his sentence is cut off by her lips crashing his. When she pulls away she gives him a little smile.

“Ivar. We’ve talked about this. Your father will not allow me to live, for his reputation and his own peace of mind. I knew coming back here it would be the end for me, I’m under no illusion I will not die tomorrow. I thought you had come to terms with it, baby?” She runs her hand over his furrowed brow and her thumb wipes a tear away. “Even if Ragnar allowed it, which he absolutely will not, I wouldn’t allow it. If my father knew I was back, knew about our son, he would never stop coming for me, for him. He wouldn't stop until we were all cold in the ground, everyone, your mother, father and brothers. There would be no peace until he had our son in his care. I can not allow that. I’m here so our baby can have a life without being hunted for the mistakes I made.” She is aware her voice isn’t as soft as she would like it to be, but she also knows that Ivar responds to this cold, detached hard truth. “I have loved you enough for a whole lifetime, this is how it has to be, love. You know this.”

He doesn’t reply, he nods stiffly and a silence settles between them.

“Liet. He will always know about you, I’ll never let him forget how much you love him, how much we love each other. No one will poison his mind against you.”

His heart breaks entirely to pieces as she crumbles down in front of him. She knows this is her last night on this Earth. Her actual last night this time. She is giving herself up for the sake of their baby. Their 14 month old baby who has his fathers eyes nestled in the features of his mother.

The greatest sacrifice a mother can make.

“Ivar, try to raise him out of this life. I know that won’t be easy, but send him to college, make him useful away from the violence. Make sure my father doesn’t get to him. Make sure Ragnar doesn’t ruin him. I’m trusting you with our baby, Ivar. You need to do for him what my past had robbed from me, a chance at a happy future. Be soft with him, like you are with me. Be loving and supportive no matter who he turns out to be or the choices he makes. Show him my Ivar, not the Ivar everyone else sees. Promise me?”

“I promise. I will be the best father,” Ivar says resolutely.

She gives him a genuine smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that you will.”

“Tell me more about him, baby.”

They spend the next few hours talking about him, his likes, his dislikes, how he sleeps curled up next to her every night with his favourite Elephant cuddly. She explains how rough the next few months will be for Ivar, he is his daddy but FaceTime can’t replicate a real connection. She explains how to best comfort him, what songs to sing him and how to make him laugh, what she wants for him in the future. She tells Ivar she has written letters for when he is older so he can understand what happened, but that it will be up to Ivar to judge when and if he feels their son can handle the information. Ivar says nothing, he just soaks up every word.

“I think that’s it.” She glances at her watch.”I will send you a text at 11am to tell me to meet me at 4pm. Your father will intercept it, we both know he will send someone. Just…. Just cover his eyes before, promise me you won’t both watch me die.”

“I promise. I promise you. We have 8 hours until I need to be home to get the message.”

“8 hours.”

“Those hours are for us and us only.” He reaches for his phone, and taps until the room is filled with music.

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

He stands up and holds his hand out to her. “Come dance with me one last time, baby.”

Her eyes mist over again as she goes to him, clinging to him tightly. She closes her eyes, compartmentalises the coming day and enjoys every second they have remaining.

————————-

9am rolls around and it’s time for him to go.

They cling to each other before she loosens her grip and grabs his face, pulling it closer to hers.

“In the next life, Ivar. I will find you in the next and every life we have after. Look after our baby.”

He holds her face, forehead touching hers. “This life and the next. I love you. I will keep him safe. I promise on everything I am, my beautiful Liet. The bravest person I’ve ever met, my fighter, my Valkyrie.”

They share a kiss, a kiss so full of love, pain, admiration and promise that they both smile and cry as they pull away and he leaves.

—————————

His phone beeps dead on 11am.

Meet me at warehouse 2c at 4pm. Just you. I have something for you.

He enters the main house to his father waiting in his study.

“You saw the message?” he asks his Father.

“I did. I wonder what she has for you?”

“A bullet in my brain I would imagine?”

Ragnar regards him, hard eyes travelling over his face. “Take your gun. You shoot her on sight. There is nothing she has that we need, nothing she can give you worth anything. Kill her and we can all move on.”

Ivar nods quickly. “That is my plan.” He turns to walk out of his fathers office.

Ragnar waits until the heavy slam of the front door hits his ears before picking up his phone. “4pm. The docks. Set up a sniper. Kill her if he hesitates.”

——————-

Ivar pulls up to the warehouse and sits for a second. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to stop the flow of tears that have been cascading down his face the whole 45 minute ride over. His heart is ripping to shreds inside his chest, despite having years to come to terms with it, a tiny sliver of bright hope lit his black soul thinking they could be a family one day. His rational brain knew it would never happen, she told him weekly it would never be the case, but the fact that the end is now is too much for him to bear.

But bear it he must. Not for her, or himself, but for their beautiful son.

He walks into the warehouse and his trained eyes see the minuscule glint from the sniper rifle up high in the corner. He will be sure to tell his father about the snipers fuck up.

His eyes find her, standing in the centre of the massive room, her back to him. His heart stops. She hasn’t brought the baby, he can’t see his son. When he is close enough he gets his gun out and points it at her.

“Liet?”

She turns slowly, their baby asleep in her arms, she doesn’t look at Ivar, she doesn’t take her eyes off their baby, soaking in every last second she has with him. He lowers his weapon as soon as he sees his son.

“The sniper is shit, love. I spotted him the second I walked in,” she chuckles lightly, “tell Ragnar I said he needs better men.

————

The sniper can’t hear what they are saying, and neither can Ragnar watching from his office from a camera feed attached to the rifle.

“Sir, she has a baby in her arms.”

“I can see that.”

“Shall I take the shot?”

“No. Do not dare. I’m pretty sure I am looking at my grandchild.” Ragnars eyes are full of tears. It’s been years since anything elicited such emotion from him. He understands now why Ivar has tried to keep her safe these past two years, not just out of love for her, but a fathers love for his child.

Ragnar wipes his eyes and rolls his shoulder. “Be ready. This is an exchange. When it’s done I will give the word.”

—————

Julietta gives Ivar a look of pure love. “Ready, baby? When I hand him to you I need you to turn away and walk out. Don’t watch me die, love. Okay?”

Ivar’s nods twice. They step towards each other, he drops his gun on the floor so he can embrace her one last time. With their foreheads touching, and tears on their faces she hands the baby to Ivar, bends down, sniffs the baby's head and kisses him before turning her attention back to his father, placing a slow kiss on his lips.

“In the next life, love,” she says

“Always and forever,” he replies.

She takes two steps back and Ivar swivels on his heels, clinging to his son, lurching away on his crutch.

———-

“Sir, shall I take the shot now?”

Ragnar is silent. His heart is breaking for his son but he knows what must be done. Even if he saw fit to let her live Ragnar knows her own father would never stop coming for her and if he were ever to catch up with her he would torture her to death. Ragnar rolls his shoulders and clenches his teeth.

———-

Ivar hears the pop and the whizz of the bullet from the sniper fly past him. He hears the grunt from her chest on impact and he hears as she falls to the floor with a thud.

The tears in his eyes blind him, he squeezes his eyes shut to clear them. He wants to scream up into the universe, make the whole world hear his pain. But he looks into the face of his sleeping son in his arms and knows he won’t, he won’t scare him. So he holds it in, to be let out at a later time when his son is not with him.

He will be the best father to their son

For her.

His beautiful Liet.

FIN.

[oc3anawrites]

Shattered Reflections

read previous chapter here

Chapter 3- The man in the mirror.

summary: steven uncovers the truth about the man in the mirror, marc spector and it leads him to meet someone new, amaya young.

a/n: the begining is very similar to how layla and steven meet in the show but don't worry it changes fast

cw: small mention of divorce, other than that its mostly just confused steven

When he arrives at the storage locker, he nervously tells them employee,

“Hi im uh looking for a storage locker it might be under the name Steven, Steven Grant or uh Marc? Just Marc, no surname.”

“I know you, you’re number 43. I never forget a face.” The man leads steven to the storage locker. 

Steven enters the storage locker, alone. Once inside the storage locker, Steven finds a cot, supplies that look like army supplies and a duffle bag. He unzips the duffle bag. Inside it’s full of guns, money and a passport with his photo. Steven reads the passport outloud.

“Marc Spector…” Steven sighs and continues looking in the duffle bag where he finds the scarab that Harrow has been looking for.

“Steven, listen to me very carefully..” says Steven’s reflection on a glass pane in the room.

“There he is, hello man in the mirror..” Steven says as he puts his hands into his pocket, clearly nervous.

“You weren’t supposed to see any of this.” Marc responds.

“Well uh it’s a bit too late for that yeah? What am I like, some secret super agent or something?” Steven asks, nervously.

“A bit more complicated than that.” Marc replies.

Growing frustrated Steven asks-

“More complicated what? Am I possessed? Are you like a-a-a demon? Or..” Steven stutters.

“You’re in danger Steven, I can save us. Just like I did last night but I can’t have you interfering-”

Steven moves close to his reflection as Marc continues talking.

“So, you’re gonna go lay down on that cot over there take a nice nap-”

“Are you kidding? I’m never going to sleep again. Look I don’t care how bloody handsome you are yeah? Tell me what it is you are. What are you?” Steven interjects.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Mark asks.

“Yes, bloody yes-” 

“I serve Khonsu. I’m his avatar.Which means you are too, sort of. We protect the vulnerable and deliver Khonsu’s justice to those who hurt them.” Mark states.

“Oh my god, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.I eat one piece of steak and then bam i go bonkers.” Steven says, turning away from his reflection.

“I’m having a panic attack, I think I’m having a panic attack. I need to go to the hospital.” Steven says, out of breath.

“I made a deal with Khonsu, that deal is contingent on you not interfering. Now give me control of the body, let me finish this and you’ll never hear from me again.” Marc interrupts.

“You want my body? Right yeah how about this I’m gonna take this bag full of illegal shit to the authorities and they’re gonna put me away so I don’t hurt anyone else. And hopefully the hospital will pump me so full of pills that you get out of my head.” Steven grabs the duffel bag and exits the storage locker.

Suddenly, all of the lights in the building start to go out, the locks on the storage units rattling, the wind shifting around steven.

Steven screams and begins clumsily running towards the exit while Khonsu chases him. 

“Give it back, you fool.” Khonsu says, looming over Steven.

Steven lets out a girlish scream, clutches the duffel bag and runs outside. He stumbles and trips onto the street, his head nearly being squashed by a woman on a motorcycle.

✦

“Marc, where the hell have you been?” 

“Amaya?” Steven questions, remembering the name and voice from Marc’s phone.

Steven hops onto the back of her motorcycle and she drives away while questioning him.

“What the hell is going on? Is this ‘Steven’ the latest fake identity for you? I thought you were using a coded message when we spoke on the phone.” 

“How did you find me?” Steven asks.

“How do you think? I tracked your phone, I thought that’s what you wanted me to do when you turned it on.”

“Uh- right yeah.” Steven replies confused, he isn’t sure what to tell her, or how to explain any of this.

Steven’s hands awkwardly hang onto her shoulders, as he tries not to fall off the bike.

“Why didn’t you at least tell me you were alive? I thought you were in danger or kidnapped again. But I kept telling myself ‘Marc has the suit, he’ll be fine.’ And then my mind would trail off into well what if he doesn’t have the suit or what if he got ambushed. And would you just stop clasping my shoulders like that!-”

“Oh- uh sorry where do I hang on I-” A bump in the road causes Steven to fall onto Amaya, grabbing her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. Stevens face blushes a light shade of pink.

“Do you see what you put me through Marc? I used to be your wife, you know?” She retorts. The touch of the man she once knew on her waist feels unfamiliar to her, unnatural.

“Sorry did you- did you say wife? Are we married?” Steven says, confused.

“Please just drop the act, clearly we lost whoever is chasing you, and drop the fake British accent.” Amaya replies, clearly fed up with whatever game ‘Marc’ is playing.

“What? This is how I talk?” 

“Okay, get off my bike.” She says, pulling the motorcycle to a stop.

“Wait wait please, I will tell you everything, just get me to my flat yeah?” Steven responds, panicked. 

Amaya sighs but agrees and takes Steven home. He unlocks the door to his apartment and they both walk in. His apartment is a mess. Littered with books about ancient Egypt, Pictures and postcards covering the wall. She walks up to the fish tank, and watches the fish swimming around.

“A goldfish huh?” She asks, watching the fish aimlessly swim in circles.

Steven watches her, and in the reflection from the glass of the goldfish tank Marc says-

“Get her out here Steven, she shouldn’t be here.”

“I just want my life back.” Steven responds.

Amaya turns away from the goldfish tank and faces Steven. “Yeah I can see that.”

“No, no- sorry I wasn’t talking to you, just talking to myself, kind of.” Steven responds.

“Uh this is your apartment.. Marc?” She looks around the room and scoffs when she sees the ankle restraints attached to his bed.

“I’m Steven.” He responds.

“Are you living here with someone else?” Amaya asks, frustrated. She’s had enough of this sick game ‘Marc’ was playing with her.

“No, no no uh this is my mum’s flat.” Steven says.

“Oh so you guys are talking again?” She responds, puzzled.

“Again?” Steven asks.

Amaya  ignores him and begins to walk around his apartment, looking at all of the books and items he has around. She sees pages full of hieroglyphs and questions why ‘Marc’ is suddenly learning how to read them.

“Well it’s not like hieroglyphs are a whole language, it’s more like an alphabet.” Steven responds. 

She looked down at the papers and read them out loud- “Funeral Rights.”

“Well someone knows their unilaterals. You.” Steven lets out an awkward laugh and points to Amaya.

Amaya sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Okay.. yeah I’m not buying this Marc. You sent these papers but never signed them-” Amaya pulls out some papers from her bag and hands them to Steven.

“Oh did I uh- let’s have a look here.” Steven puts on a red pair of glasses, slightly too big for his face and begins to read the papers.

“You told me that I need to move on. But you didn’t even have the guts to sign them first.” She says as Steven reads the papers.

“Divo- Divorce? I would never divorce you.” Steven says confused.

“What the hell are you talking about? YOU sent these to me.” Her voice is short of a yell now. ‘This is a sick fucking game Marc.’ She thinks to herself.

“Look, you seem absolutely lovely. This Marc, on the other hand is a right twit. Yeah?” Steven looks into the mirror behind him and sees Marc, who sighs and hangs his head in shame.

“Look, I don't know how to explain what’s happening. I don’t expect you to believe me, I honestly don’t even believe myself. All I can do is try to show you what I found-” Steven begins to explain.

“Steven, Steven stop. I mean it Steven. Stop. Don’t bring her into this.” Marc pleads, in Steven’s reflection.

Steven reaches into the bag and begins to pull something out-

“You’re going to get her killed, Steven, close the bag. You show her that scarab, you’re responsible when they come after her.” Marc says angrily.

Steven stops in the middle of his sentence and freezes.

“What? What did you find?” Amaya  asks.

“N-nothing, nevermind.” 

She walks over to Steven and opens the bag, pulling out an ancient scarab.

“The scarab pointing to Ammit’s ushabti? What we fought side by side for?What is this whole show just because you want it to yourself?” She asks angrily.

“Just take it, take it please. I swear I don’t want it. Please just listen to me. I am not Marc Spector. I am Steven Grant. I work in a gift shop, or I did work in a gift shop. And I think I’m in real danger and you might be the only person who can help me.”

“You really don’t remember why we’ve been looking for this? Our adventures? Or our life together? You don’t remember me?” Amaya says, collecting herself. She doesn’t want to believe a word coming out of this man's mouth but he seems so innocent.

“Oh god I wish I could.” Steven responds.

She pauses for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

“You’re really not Marc?” She asked.

“No, I promise.” Steven responds, nervously fiddling with his jacket pocket.

Amaya takes a deep breath, unsure if she can trust what the man in front of her is saying. Part of her wants to trust his words, trust that he doesn’t remember how much he hurt her, that he doesn’t remember her. The other part of her wants to spit in his face and never speak to him again. She stays silent for a moment, debating how to respond. 

“Okay Steven, I believe you.” Truly, she isn’t sure what to believe but if this is all true it means a man who looks eerily similar to Marc has put his trust in her. She decides to really listen to what the man has to say and open her mind up to the possibility of his words being truthful even though every bone in her body is telling her to run the other way.

“Really- really? Oh thank god.” Steven takes a breath of relief, his shoulders relaxing.

“Tell me everything Steven.” She demands.

Steven begins to speak and then looks in the mirror, expecting a retort from Marc.

“Good job Steven, you’ve just gotten both yourselves killed.” Marc says.

Steven ignores Marc and begins to blurt out everything.

“So a few months ago, yeah? I started having these blackouts, waking up in random places, not knowing where I was.”

She listens intently and lets Steven continue. ‘Blackouts?’ She thinks to herself.

“And a few days ago I started hearing this voice in my head and seeing someone in the mirror. I think I'm sharing a body with someone. With this Marc Spector guy. And he told me he works as Khonshu’s avatar, this all sounds so bonkers right?” Steven looks over to Amaya.

Amaya takes a moment to process everything Steven just told her. ‘Marc and Steven share a body?’ She asks herself. ‘I guess it’s less crazy than ancient gods being real and being able to possess humans.’

“You’re not crazy, Steven.” She replies after collecting her thoughts.

“What? You really don’t think I’ve gone mad?” Steven asks.

“I met Marc a little over 10 years ago in Cairo, eventually I found out about Khonsu and that he was his avatar. So no I don’t.I just can’t believe he never told me about you.” There’s not even the slightest twinge of emotion in her voice as she explains.

Steven, looking confused, takes a step back from Amaya. Amaya stands there silently, watching Steven. Even though this man has so many similarities to Marc, his beautiful curls, his smile, the same eyes, the same body, he is a total stranger. Until she sees the look on Steven’s face.

“Ten-ten years? Marc and I have been sharing a body for ten years?” Steven’s face looks defeated, he looks like he could just break into a million pieces.

A soft look of worry crosses Amaya’s face, barely noticeable unless you’re staring directly at her. Seeing a man who looks so much like someone she used to love be so hurt makes her head hurt.

“What happened between you and Marc?” Steven asks her, interrupting the ache in her head.

Amaya takes a deep breath. Normally she would never tell a stranger even a tiny piece of the truth in her life but she can’t help but feel a vulnerability in the armor she put up around her heart when she talks to Steven.

“After we met in Cairo we began working together, searching for ancient artifacts. We fell in love, or what we thought was love. I’d provide him information for his missions with Khonsu. He refused to ever bring me along but he would always come home after his missions. We got married 5 years in. A few months ago, Marc disappeared one day and never came back. For an entire month I didn’t hear a single word from him until I received divorce papers in the mail. Then it was radio silence again.” She recants.

Steven processes what Amaya has just said and looks into the mirror. Marc stares back at him with a furious look on his face, but stays silent.

“I’m so sorry Amaya. You didn’t deserve that.” Shame and guilt are riddled across Stevens face and body language. Even though he knows that it was Marc who hurt her and not him, he still feels like it’s his fault. 

Amaya is taken aback by Steven’s words. ‘He’s so…different.’ She thinks.

“It’s okay Steven.” Amaya carefully places her hand on Stevens shoulder, gently squeezing it to give him some reassurance. She felt it was what he needed, even if she wanted to just slap him straight upside the head simply because she knew he and Marc shared a body.

Steven blushes at Amaya’s hand on him. He feels a little bit of shame for liking Amaya’s touch as he now knows that the man he shares a body with is her husband.

“So Steven, I know a lot about Marc, but nothing about you besides that you used to work in a gift shop. Who are you?” Amaya asks, trying to gauge what kind of man this Steven is. Because if he’s anything like Marc, she plans to run away as fast as she can before she breaks.

Steven fidgeted nervously, his eyes darting around before finally settling on Amaya's. Her look was sincere, she wasn’t judging him like everyone else usually does, she actually wanted to know.

 "Um, well I’m- I’m Steven Grant, and, well, I work, or worked.. at a gift shop in the London Museum. I’ve always been a bit of a, um, history buff, especially when it comes to ancient Egypt. It’s just so fascinating, you know? My dream was to be a tour guide at the museum but Donna always shot me down. I have a goldfish named Gus—he’s got one fin, poor little bloke. Or at least he did, And, uh, my mum, she’s always been there for me, even though things have been a bit... complicated lately.”

Amaya and Steven took a seat on his couch as they talked, she listened intently, her eyes softening as Steven spoke. This man was nothing like Marc, not even close. She reached out and gently touched his hand, offering a reassuring smile. She couldn’t really figure out why. It just felt right.

 His hand felt so similar to Marc’s yet so different.  As Amaya sat on Steven's couch, her fingers traced the intricate patterns on the cushion absentmindedly with one hand, the other gently held Steven’s.  Steven fidgeted with his free hand, trying to pull at his sleeve. Amaya’s touch made him nervous. The room was filled with the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm light on Steven's collection of Egyptian artifacts. As Steven spoke about his life, his job at the museum, and his passion for ancient history, Amaya's mind drifted back to the days when she and Marc were inseparable. She remembered their wedding day, the way Marc's eyes looked when they exchanged vows, the way he kissed her, the way he held her…. The memory was so vivid that she could almost feel the warmth of his hand in hers, the sound of their laughter echoing in the air. But then, the memory shifted to the arguments, the days without him and finally the day Marc disappeared. The confusion, the fear, and the endless nights of waiting for a call that never came. What it put her through, the dark path she had fallen down. The hate she had for herself for not being able to find him no matter how hard she looked.The pain of his absence was still fresh, a wound that had never fully healed. 

As Steven continued to talk, Amaya's gaze wandered around the room, landing on a small goldfish swimming lazily in its bowl.’Gus.’ She thought to herself, remembering what Steven had said. The sight brought her back to the present, and she realized how different Steven's world was from the one she had shared with Marc. The meticulous notes scattered on the desk, the way Steven's eyes lit up when he talked about his passions—he was so different from the cold, untrusting and untruthful man she once loved. The juxtaposition of her past with Marc and her present with Steven created a whirlwind of emotions within her. She felt a deep sense of loss, but also a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in understanding Steven, she could find a way to heal from Marc, to bridge the gap between the man she married and the man who now stood before her, fragmented yet whole in his own way.

Amaya took a deep breath, her fingers still intertwined with Steven's.

` "Thank you for sharing that with me, Steven," she said softly, her voice tinged with a mix of sadness and warmth.

 "It's clear that you’re very different from Marc, and I can see how much you care about the things that bring you joy. It's... it's a lot to take in, knowing that Marc and you share the same body, but are so different in many ways."

She paused, her eyes drifting to the goldfish bowl once more before returning to Steven's earnest gaze.

 "I wish I had known you before,Steven.” ‘Shit, why the hell did I just say that?’ The words had escaped her lips before she could even process what she was saying. She hated this feeling, this dumb fucking fuzzy feeling that you get when you have a crush as a kid. It made her feel too vulnerable for comfort.

Steven's eyes softened as he listened to Amaya's heartfelt words. His heart hurt at her words.

"I wish I had known you too." he said, his voice filled with genuine emotion. 

"It means a lot to me that you want to understand and get to know me. I know this whole situation is... well, it's complicated, to say the least."

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. He realized that this entire time he was so busy rambling and panicking that he never even took a good look at Amaya. She had long white hair that was tied into a braid and thrown over her shoulder. The last few inches of her hair are an inky jet black. Her eyes looked empty, almost drained of life in their blue-ish gray hues. Her ivory colored skin had but a small tint of warmth in it.Her jaw and cheekbones were sharp but almost soft at the same time. Steven gazed at the scar in the middle of her forehead, right between her brows. ‘I wonder what happened.’ He thought. He continued to examine Amaya, noticing the way her clothes fell on her body, the way she moved her hair ever so slightly. He took one last look at her face, admiring it before he averted his gaze.

"I want you to know that I'm here for you, too. I may not have all the answers, and I might not be able to explain everything about Marc and me, but I promise to be honest with you. My life has always been a bit of a puzzle, but maybe together, we can start to piece it together. And who knows? Maybe we'll find some new pieces along the way that make the picture a little clearer." Steven said, snapping out of his admiration of Amaya.

 His smile widened slightly, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he looked at Amaya, feeling a sense of connection and understanding beginning to form between them.

“I hope so.” Amaya smiled softly back at Steven.

suddenly there’s a knock on Steven’s door