#and there’s something about nobody knowing where he is bc he’s actually found himself amongst a colony of stray programs that i love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeymoonjin · 3 years

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pairing: jimin x yoongi || genre: smut - nsfw 18+ word count: 6.7k warnings: dom!jimin, sub!yoongi, exhibitionism, BDSM, sub!jk feature very briefly, masochism, pain play, impact play, spanking, orgasm control/denial, untouched orgasm, frotting (i hope that’s right, i had to google it), crying during sex but in a fun liberating way u feel me, praise, mean-mugging, pet names

summary: jimin is used to keeping his professional bdsm life and his domestic married life separate, but when his husband yoongi comes in after a hard day at work, he wants to blur those lines.

A/N: i wrote this for the lovely and talented @joonsbean so thank her for inspiring me to actually write something, also this is unedited bc i just sat down for 6 hours to write this and i am not willing to stare at it a moment longer

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After a particularly resonant flick of the whip, Jimin eyes the way Jungkook's calves tense, left foot tapping the floor in an uneven stutter. He's starting to really feel it now.

He absentmindedly reaches his hand out to smooth the reddened flesh of Jungkook's ass, gently cooing at him quiet enough that his rapt audience won't hear. While the eager submissive was the biggest masochist of the regulars, and he was likely miles away from safewording, as a friend Jimin knew the long-haired boy had three hours of lectures the next day. He'd probably relish the sore ass and take it like a champ, but Jimin was soft on him, so he knew it was time to wrap it up.

Tilting his chin towards the dark, almost purplish streak just above Jungkook's thigh, he raises his voice to address the onlookers. "As you can see, when there's only one fall, like with a whip or a switch, the impact feels a lot sharper and concentrated. The thinner it is, that effect is only amplified. For that reason, I really recommend against switches and whips as a first-timer or if you're testing it out." Jimin can't help but beam at the way every person in the crowd listens to his spiel with clear enthusiasm. He got off on this kind of spotlight in a different way to the usual exhibitionism. Sharing his passion never failed to cheer him up. "Even though floggers can look more intense, as we saw when we were starting out, the impact is more distributed, more of a thud than a sting. Now," he breaks off, giving Jungkook's tender ass a final playful swat, making the boy jump, knuckles white as they clench the back of the chair he's bent over, "let's give our little prince a big round of applause for being so helpful for us today."

Jungkook positively keens at the cheers and wolf whistles that erupt from the crowd of at least thirty, his back arching and face buried between his meaty upper arms to hide the blush. Jimin gently massages the heated skin one last time, whispering instructions to head off to the side where his usual dom, Namjoon, was no doubt waiting.

The two had been playing for almost a year now, but Namjoon was still hesitant to venture into the heavier sadism that Jungkook sometimes needed, and the three of them had found a happy medium where Jungkook helped Jimin out with demonstrations, and Jimin indulged Jungkook's occasional desire for more intense pain play. As a thank you, Namjoon even helped Jimin out with his taxes just the month before, and Jimin quite often allowed them to reserve their favourite play rooms out of courtesy. A mutually beneficial arrangement, and it certainly came in handy to have Namjoon deal with aftercare while Jimin still had his demonstration to wind up.

Swinging the chair that Jungkook was previously bent over, Jimin takes a seat facing the audience and quirks a brow. "Alrighty, before we wrap up and I set you back into the wild, any questions?"

This line always had very different responses. Once, on a basic self-bondage informational session, there were so many single kinksters interested that there ended up being almost an hour of questioning, followed by an impromptu tutorial of safe handcuff use. More commonly, Jimin fielded a few confirming questions about what he'd shown, or something related but not overly relevant to the main topic at hand. More often than not, though, he'd find a string of people awkwardly hovering around him after the crowd had dissipated, too nervous to ask their question in front of the others.

This time, however, a single hand is thrust into the air, coming from the rough back third of the gathering.

"Yes?" Jimin calls out, squinting past the few stage lights and into the darkened crowd. He can't quite make out the face, but as soon as the rumbly voice begins to speak, he doesn't need the visual to recognise it.

"I was just wondering," his husband calls out, "could I speak to you in private?"

Jimin is so startled to hear Yoongi that for a moment he freezes on stage, totally silent. Never once had his husband of four years step a single foot into the dungeon Jimin worked at. Not intolerant of the kink world, Yoongi was simply paranoid about being recognised - a renowned human rights lawyer showing up to a BDSM dungeon dressed in leathers was a tabloid field day waiting to happen - and was happy for Jimin to continue working there whenever he wished.

Now, though, that unspoken rule that had kept these two worlds of Jimin's separate had shattered with a single question, and he felt cold shock drip down his spine.

"Uh," he begins eloquently, blinking himself out of it and plastering a collected smile on again, "of course! I'll be right with you once the show ends."

Jimin closes the session in a daze, answering a few questions about physical aftercare and the best materials and brands for impact play equipment on autopilot. It feels like an eternity passing in a single second, and before he's even processed it, the audience have moved on, and his husband is placing a gentle kiss of greeting on his temple, the same way he would when he'd get home from work in the evenings.

Mere minutes after he'd been in his usual dominant persona, Jimin feels himself melting like candy floss in Yoongi's arms, wrapping around him in their usual casual intimacy. "How are you here?" Jimin asks softly, snaking his arms under Yoongi's slate grey suit jacket, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, even through the expensive cotton shirt. "You're still dressed for work, baby."

Yoongi tenses slightly, gazing around the room. A few people are still milling around in small groups, chatting, but this close to the stage, him and Jimin are out of earshot. Still, he speaks lowly, dipping into the Daegu drawl that only makes an appearance when he's too stressed to think clearly. "I took a sick day. Or, I suppose, sick afternoon," he corrects, brows pinched together. "Had to get out. Can we- Is there a place we can have some privacy, please?"

Wide-eyed, Jimin jumps up out of Yoongi's embrace. "Oh, definitely, sorry!" He tamps down his rising concern by hooking his arm around Yoongi's, locking their fingers tightly as he leads his husband out of the auditorium and down a hall.

Being a matinee opening, the dungeon isn't too packed. Jimin prefers working the day shifts, likes that everything feels a little more personal and open. Nights, especially themed ones, get so busy that the gear and rooms have to be booked sometimes weeks in advance. Jimin does his fair share of DMing (they need all the help they can get) but doesn't like to run any scenes himself in the relative chaos.

But at 2pm on a Tuesday, it's easy enough to slip into one of the private rooms, switching the sign to occupied. There's no lock on the door for safety purposes, but nobody will dare enter while it's taken.

Yoongi steps in, eying the room with surprise. It's a relatively open space, with the walls lined with bookcases on one end, and a large wooden desk with some filing cabinets on the other. The desk itself has a comfortable-looking desk chair, and the opposite side has a single leather armchair like something from a therapist's office.

Although there is a wide window, it's covered with blinds, and Jimin knows from experience that it opens directly onto a brick wall for privacy. Instead, the room is lit from above with ceiling lights that are adjustable by a dimmer. Jimin leaves it bright.

Yoongi slowly makes his way to the black leather armchair, sitting down on it and leaning forward to inspect the desk. Absurdly large, it is mostly uncovered except for a diary with some unreadable scrawls on it, an ancient laptop that doesn't turn on, and a ruler. "Is this your office?" Yoongi asks incredulously.

Jimin cackles before he can help himself, moving forward to perch on the edge of the desk in front of Yoongi. "Does it look like I'd get anything done here? It's a play room, baby."

"Play room?" his husband replies dully, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes are zoned in on Jimin's body, the intimidating leather jacket fixed with a tightly buckled belt around his waist, the skintight black jeans that barely contained his thighs, and perfectly glossed black dress shoes, his calling card amongst the typical stomping boots or knife-thin stilettos that most other doms wore. He always got dressed at the dungeon, leaving the house in unassuming sweatpants and a hoodie, so he gets no little satisfaction in relishing his husband's first reaction to the getup.

"That's right," he confirms with a smirk, crossing his legs. "We have five of them at the moment, though the sixth one is almost ready for use. This one is for your typical CEO or professor roleplays, we have a medical one, an interrogation one," Jimin rattles them off on his fingers, watching the way Yoongi's eyes bug out at each addition, "just a basic bedroom one for the vanilla stuff, one that actually looks like a dungeon, and the new one is gonna be an outdoor one."

"Outdoor?" Yoongi asks with a unsteady voice, before shaking his head to clear the thoughts. "Anyway, here is fine, I just- I had to get away from work, Minnie, and I... I was thinking..."

Jimin frowns in sympathy, leaning forward to stroke the back of Yoongi's hand. "I can leave early, I don't have anything else booked today, I was mostly planning on sticking to the social lounge-"

"I don't wanna go home," Yoongi slips in hurriedly, flipping his hand on the arm of the chair to link their fingers together tightly, though his eyes don't leave Jimin's for a second. "I know that you like to keep this job and our own love life separate, and I'm not going to force you, but- I came here because I want to submit to you."

Jimin's eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. A switch at heart, Jimin had always found it a nice balance to indulge his dominant side here at work, and return home for Yoongi to take care of him, and it had always worked well. Even before they were serious, right in the early days of fucking like rabbits and pretending they weren't entirely smitten, Yoongi had always easily taken that more dominant role, though most of their sex to this day was far less kinky than the kind of demonstrations Jimin ran here. What Yoongi was asking wasn't just to be pampered and taken care of, but to be taken control of. And Jimin couldn't deny the ball of heat that was quickly building inside of him at that thought.

"Baby," he sighs, forcing himself to keep professionalism in mind, "I can't- We can't do anything here without you filling out some paperwork. The list of kinks and limits at the least. Not just as an employee, but as your husband, I gotta keep you safe."

"I know," Yoongi insists, and he frees his hand from Jimin's grip just long enough to plunge a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper, handing it to Jimin.

Oddly enough, the folds are worn, not crisp, and as Jimin unfolds it, the text - printed in 12 point Times New Roman, because of course Yoongi would type it up with perfect formatting - has lost the freshly-printed gloss.

"I've been working up the courage to come here for months, Jimin-ah," Yoongi explains in a shy but determined voice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel pressured at all either way, but please know that this is something that I've researched, and that I'm serious about." His solemn expression turns slightly cheeky, almost impish. "You literally make a living domming people, Minnie. I've been fantasising about it long before I even realised I wanted it."

A thrill of arousal runs through Jimin, straight between his legs, and he tightens his thighs, taking a settling breath. "Oh, baby," he coos, eyes dropping to read Yoongi's well-documented and organised list of kinks and limits, scanning over some surprising - and not-so-surprising - tidbits, "I'm gonna take such good care of you."

The air rushes out of Yoongi's lungs as he unconsciously scoots forward in the chair, leaning in. "Do we- Do we just start now, or do you need to go get some-" he breaks off, blushing violently, "some equipment?"

Jimin breaks into a broad smile, eyes crinkling as he steps forward, steps close, ringed fingers slipping into Yoongi's hair on either side, tipping his husband's face up as his chin rests on Jimin's lower abdomen. "Oh, my big boy wants to play with some toys, huh?" Jimin can feel when Yoongi swallows hard, his eyes not glossy with subspace, instead keen and sharp with pointed desire. "Don't worry, baby, this room isn't as empty as you think."

When he steps away, dropping all contact, Yoongi slumps like a puppet with cut strings, catching himself before he slips off the chair, instead lying back against it, chest heaving beneath the starch white of his dress shirt.

Jimin makes his way first to the bookshelves, looking back over his shoulder to catch Yoongi's reaction as he finds a notch in the framing and pulls, revealing that they aren't real shelves at all, simply disguised cabinets that swing open to reveal the hidden delights inside. The three closest to the desk are filled with clothes of all sizes, office-wear spanning pencil skirts to neckties to blazers, a few frumpy pieces that remind Jimin of dorky professors, even some school uniforms, cut far shorter than regulation.

With a grin, Jimin pulls at a pleated plaid skirt, smirking at Yoongi. "In the mood for dress-up, baby? Show off those pretty legs of yours."

Yoongi, still with some wits about him, narrows his eyes with a mock scowl, his disapproval clear.

Jimin sighs out wistfully, but lets it go. "Another time, maybe." Ignoring Yoongi's light scoff, he nudges the doors shut with his foot one at a time and moves to the last one, where the facade of stacked books hides a series of hooks nailed into the back wall.

Jimin doesn't need to even face Yoongi to know he's squirming in his chair - the squeaking leather gives it away. Strung up are floggers, whips, switches, and neatly coiled bundles of rope, catalogued by length. His husband had expressed interest in both impact play and bondage, several different types of both, and so it's no surprise that the sight of those fantasies had Yoongi breathing heavily. He leaves that cupboard open.

"There are so many things we could play with in here, baby," Jimin assures, patting the folded piece of paper that he'd slipped into his own pocket, "and your list was pretty extensive, so before we get started, any particular preference?"

Yoongi swallows again, hair slightly rucked up from Jimin's hands. Jimin can't wait to see it totally mussed up, see his husband in ruins, see him love it. With wary eyes on Jimin as he moves behind the desk towards the filing cabinets, Yoongi nods. "The- what you were doing with that guy on stage. I- I want that."

Jimin blinks, turning his back to his husband to mask his surprise, fingers hooking the edge of the top drawer of one of the cabinets, each one labelled alphabetically. "Is that so? We did a lot on that stage, baby, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Yoongi is silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound as Jimin carefully slides the drawer open, revealing neatly sectioned rows of anal plugs. He grins. A for Anal, B for Bondage, C for Chastity. The designers really took their job seriously, and he could appreciate the humour in it.

He lets Yoongi take his time, knowing that saying something is often the hardest part. Instead, he notes the location of the drawer marked P, and turns back to his husband.

Looking incredibly small, tucked up on the intentionally oversized armchair, Yoongi clears his throat, making shy eye contact. "The paddles," he says in a high tone, like he's unsure he's even using the correct word, "I want you to- to hit me with them like you did him."

"You want me to spank that pretty little ass of yours?" Jimin confirms, loving the way his husband goes bright pink.

"Y-yeah," he replies breathily, dropping his gaze. "Will you?"

Despite the raging fire inside him, Jimin's heart leaps fondly, so in love with his husband and all his endearing mannerisms. "Of course, baby. But let's start slow, hm? Gotta make your first time special, don't we?"

Yoongi laughs, then, full of air and barely audible, his lips lilting in a small smile that still shows his teeth.

Jimin tilts his head to the side. "What?"

With a tiny head shake, Yoongi contains his grin. "I just really wanna kiss you right now."

Jimin is moving before he's even finished speaking, his hip barely missing the corner of the desk in his haste to join his husband, knees straddling his lap without hesitation, holding those soft cheeks in both hands as he presses his lips firmly against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut.

Their parting kiss before Yoongi left for work this morning feels too long ago, and for a moment their new arrangement is forgotten as they fall into their usual motions, years of marriage making every inch of Yoongi's lips feel familiar, the bump of their noses and brush of eyelashes like home even in such a different environment.

With no rush, Jimin lets himself indulge in it, burying one hand in Yoongi's hair, carding through the choppy black locks that are no longer gelled back. His other hand slides down Yoongi's jaw, neck, and chest, tugging at the knot of his tie to loosen it. He makes no effort to be gentle, and his husband just groans into Jimin's mouth at the rough treatment.

It's all too easy to shift into his dom space, a practiced scale of gradually increasing intensity. It begins with the tie, but soon enough Jimin punctuates their ongoing kiss with hard sucks and quick nips of teeth, Yoongi tipping his chin up to drown in it more. Testing the waters, Jimin rocks his hips once against Yoongi's taut crotch and yanks once on a fistful of hair, baring the pale expanse of Yoongi's neck.

The debauched lawyer bucks beneath him, hands flying to grip tightly at Jimin's waist. His long, beautiful fingers and wide palm have always made Jimin feel weak at the knees, and feeling them grasp at him not in command but in desperation feels addictive.

"You like that?" he breathes, voice low enough to almost growl, and Yoongi shivers as he nods his affirmation. "Good," Jimin praises, and dives down, teeth grazing down the sensitive skin of Yoongi's throat, skimming until he feels the throb of his pulse point. Yoongi can't risk marks at work, certainly not in court, but it's a Friday, and Jimin is feeling more possessive than usual. He nips lightly but laps at the skin thoroughly, knowing the best he can get away with is a reddened bite mark which would fade over the weekend. The hickies were best saved for other areas, he knew.

Yoongi is panting like a horse now, air punched through his nostrils as he bites down hard on his own swollen lip. Jimin knows the effect he has on his subs, and grins against the glistening wet skin of Yoongi's neck at the hardness that has grown between his legs. "Wuh-want more, Minnie," he gasps out, "need more."

Jimin hums, making sure Yoongi can feel the vibrations in the hollow of his throat, sliding up to press kisses to that hyper-sensitive place just behind Yoongi's ear that always made him tremble.

It doesn't disappoint, Yoongi letting out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around Jimin's waist, trying to bring him closer.

Jimin doesn't let him, though, pulling back to sit on his haunches, running a thumb down Yoongi's reddened lower lip to watch the way it springs back into place. Yoongi sits still, eyes cloudy as he lets his dom for the night play with him. The thought pleases Jimin; that Yoongi truly was wanting this, truly was willing to give up control to him.

He spares a glance down between his own thighs, where the cool grey of Yoongi's slacks makes no attempt at hiding his bulging erection. Pouting in sympathy, Jimin reaches out with a single finger to trace the outline, watching the muscles in his husband's thighs tense as he fights to stay still. "So hard already, baby," Jimin drawls, "do you think that pretty little cock of yours can wait its turn while I spank you, hm? Can it be patient for me?"

Yoongi flushes, whining Jimin's name under his breath. "Yes," he admits, huffing out a reluctant sigh.

"Yes what?"

Yoongi grimaces at Jimin, but the dom just raises an expectant brow. "Yes, my- my pretty little cock can be patient for you," Yoongi murmurs in the quietest voice he can manage, cheeks red hot.

"That's my boy," Jimin beams, rewarding his husband by popping the button and pulling down the zip on the fly of Yoongi's slacks, releasing some of the pressure. Yoongi groans, deep in his throat, but his relief is quickly thwarted once Jimin stands up off him.

Making his way back to the filing cabinets, Jimin quickly slides open the one labeled P. Splayed out neatly lie five different paddles. Three are plastic, one a basic rounded shape, another that same shape only with several small holes drilled through for a sharper impact, and a final one a rectangular shape. The next one is hard wood, heavy, Jimin recalls, and the one tucked at the back is a softly upholstered pleather one for beginners. Then there's the ruler, of course, though that's a little cheesy for the current mood.

He assesses the five inside at his leisure, knowing every moment of anticipation will feel like an eternity to his husband, and finally makes a choice. He slides the cabinet drawer closed.

Yoongi makes a wounded, cut-off noise in his throat, but Jimin sends him a firm gaze.

"I'll give you what you want, baby," Jimin assures, wetting his lips, "but first I want to feel you myself. Pants and underwear off, jacket off, I want you bent over my desk."

Yoongi sucks in a sudden breath, but stands up on wobbly legs and slips off his blazer. It's probably too expensive to be dumping it on the chair behind him, but Yoongi clearly isn't worried about that as he kicks off his shoes and pants too, only hesitating once his fingers are hooked on the elastic waistband of his underwear.

"Off," Jimin demands harshly, "I won't ask again."

This time Yoongi obeys without delay, and Jimin takes great pleasure in watching the way his husband's cock leaps up once it's freed, pretty and pink and wetter than he'd ever seen it before. Though Yoongi always tended to top, his cock was smaller - more slender, at least - than Jimin's, but he loved it, loved that a hasty three fingers was enough prep on those times that they just couldn't wait to devour each other.

Now, though, with mussed hair and wrinkled shirt, naked from the waist down bar a pair of black ankle socks, Jimin's husband looked positively adorable in the most erotic way, and Jimin wanted nothing more than to make him wait, make him work to cum.

When Yoongi folds himself over the desk, side-on to Jimin to make use of the length of the surface, his hands awkwardly hover on either side of him, keeping himself slightly upright still. The back of his shirt is just long enough to cover the tops of his cheeks, and the sight of his rounded ass and dripping cock peeking through is enough to make Jimin actively restrain himself, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate this opportunity.

He steps forward, planting a hand between Yoongi's shoulder blades and presses, slow enough that Yoongi has time to move his face to the side to avoid banging his chin, but firm enough that there's no resisting. Yoongi goes willingly, however, his back arching as the table is just lower than his hips. Like this, no fabric obstructs Jimin's view, and he hums, pleased. "Good boy."

Yoongi trembles, his legs tight together and knees shaking just slightly. He's nervous at the vulnerable position, but no less aroused for it.

With the tip of his shoe, Jimin guides Yoongi's legs apart, until his socked feet are wider than his hips, until he needs to lean his weight onto the desktop to keep stable.

"That's it," Jimin praises, "my perfect little slut. So obedient."

Yoongi's right knee buckles at the exact moment that he hears the pet name, and Jimin grins. The piece of paper in his pocket had a long list of suggestions for names he was okay being called, and the dom couldn't resist picking out his favourite. The perfect mix of praise and degradation, it flowed so well on his tongue; the smooth, melodic sounds punctuated by the sharp hit of the t. Slut. Jimin muffles a groan, pressing on his own straining erection.

Unable to help himself, he reaches out, both hands grabbing at the plush ass cheeks in front of him, spreading them to watch the way Yoongi clenches at the sudden exposure. This must be what he looks like when they play together, Jimin thinks. He wonders if Yoongi is enjoying the change in pace just as much as he is.

"I'm going to start you off with just my hands, baby," he introduces, running a palm under the hem of his shirt and up Yoongi's spine to watch the way he shivers. "I'm sure you're well aware of the traffic light system, hm? Tell me what the colours mean."

Yoongi shifts, fingers curling uselessly against the tabletop as his eyes remain squeezed shut. "Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go," he recites, the exact phrasing off the dungeon's website, and Jimin bends down to press a single soft kiss on the top of Yoongi's ass as a reward, making him twitch violently. "Fuck, Jimin-ah," he sighs, arching his back even more.

Jimin grins. "Good. I'm adding another colour, just for you," he explains. "Gold. Can you guess what gold means?"

Yoongi swallows, shifts his weight, and shakes his head.

Jimin digs his fingers into the flesh of Yoongi's ass, watching them pillow in roughly. "Gold means more. Gold means harder. Okay?"

Yoongi nods quickly, hair even more tangled with every movement.

"Good boy," Jimin croons, and without further comment his left hand rises and comes down in a single strike.

Yoongi seizes up for a second at the shock of it, but there's no power behind the hit, and his brain realises a moment later that no pain follows the loud noise. He huffs in need and pushes his hips back, silently asking for more. "Gold, g-gold," he mutters offbeat, already panting.

Jimin hums in pleasure, and swats his right cheek this time, feeling a sting bloom across his palm. Still not nearly the hardest he can go, it's clearly not enough for Yoongi, as he remains stoic, waiting for more.

The next time, Jimin lets his hand really catch the air on the way down, but he doesn't stop at one hit, raining down three in quick succession on the same spot. Yoongi breathes through the first impact, freezes in surprise at the second one, and an unbidden moan falls out of his mouth at the third.

"Mm, that's better, isn't it?" Jimin muses rhetorically, soothing the slightly pinked patch of skin with his warmed hand. "Just need a bit more pain to let go."

"Please," Yoongi breathes, "jus' keep going."

"Bossy," Jimin teases, "I'm meant to be giving you orders, baby. If you don't quit it, I might not give you what you want at all."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, ple-please hit me again," Yoongi begs mindlessly, and Jimin can't help but indulge him, his husband sounding so pretty when he whines.

When he returns to spanking again, it's in earnest. Instead of pausing to check in each time, he relies on his husband's telling cues to moderate it, as well as the sweet pleas of gold, gold every time Jimin spent too long between swats.

Much like the rest of him, Yoongi's ass blooms candied pink, and with every strike, Jimin can't help but venture further, wanting to colour him in all over. The spanks that fall on Yoongi's upper thighs make him restless, squirming and moaning wordlessly. The ones that land on the fatty portion of his ass have him sighing happily, crooked smile slicked in drool against the wood of the desk.

The two of them slip into an unspoken rhythm for a while, alternating these hits on either side, of varying number and intensity, until Yoongi has almost fallen into a trance of sorts, mouth hanging open slackly as a whine or moan or whimper is falling out of his mouth with every single thwack.

Jimin's arm begins to tire, and just as he pauses to shake out the joints, Yoongi pants a, "wait, wait," making him pause.

It takes a moment for Yoongi to catch his breath, but Jimin waits patiently, scanning his ass and thighs for any sign of something that could be causing undue comfort, but he comes up short. With a weak, slurred voice, Yoongi lets out a sob. "I wanna use the paddle, Minnie, I wanna feel it," he pleads, "I've h-had enough of the spanking."

Jimin furrows his brows in concern, massaging out the sore tissue as Yoongi goes lax beneath him. "If you've had enough, baby, we should stop. I don't wanna push you."

Yoongi actually tears up, biting hard on his lip as he shakes his head. "Please, Minnie, just a few times, I just need it to be- to be heavy. I don't know, but I need it. Gold, please gold."

"Okay," Jimin is agreeing softly, squatting down to press reassuring kisses against the hot flesh, feeling his own palm stinging. He leaves only to slide open the drawer of paddles, selecting the wooden one. He knew from subspace himself that sometimes those base, thoughtless needs stemmed from something deeper, from an emotional need tangled up daily life. Once, in the early days of doing demonstrations at the dungeon, Jimin had gotten stage fright and done such a poor job of a fingering tutorial that the sweet sub he was working on didn't even cum. He'd come home to Yoongi bawling in humiliation, and his husband had lain him down on their bed and made him cum so many times that he couldn't even think, couldn't move a single limb. Now, Jimin had no doubt that the need to feel a heavy impact had something to do with the reason Yoongi had taken an uncharacteristic sick day.

Talking about it wouldn't help, would only break the escapism of the scene, so Jimin just runs the face of the wooden paddle over Yoongi's sore ass, letting him grow accustomed to the feel and texture. "Just two hits," Jimin declares, "one on each cheek. No more. Focus on them, baby. Eyes closed, just feel them."

He waits until Yoongi settles, spreading his legs wider with wiggling toes, and catching his breath, one hand pressed over his teary eyes.

Jimin swings the paddle backwards, not up, and lets it impact on Yoongi's left cheek first, a wet, strangled moan leaving his husband's mouth at the thuddy feel. The wooden paddle didn't hurt like spanking or a lighter paddle. It was about the weighty feel of it hitting your skin, a light hit so as not to cause bruising.

A line of tension disappears between Yoongi's clothed shoulders, the sweaty fabric clinging to his back. He's calmed down, fully, waiting patiently for the second strike. The second Jimin rains that final hit, he drops the paddle onto the carpeted floor, exhausted himself, and moves around to the side of the desk, bending awkwardly over it to press his mouth to Yoongi's, who makes a muffled sound of surprise before responding in turn.

Jimin's hand is curled around the nape of his husband's neck, keeping him close as tears mingle with spit, their kiss salty and desperate.

He feels a vibration between them before he hears anything, has to focus hard to hear Yoongi as he chants over and over like a prayer, thanking Jimin.

He slows the kiss after a sweet eternity, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Jimin's own eyes sting, love and concern a potent combination, but as the adrenaline settles back to normal, Yoongi calms down too, and seems to come back to himself.

He pulls away to let out a tired breath, laughing voicelessly. "Fuck," Yoongi curses with eyes still closed in bliss. "I get it now."

Jimin beams, a chuckle leaving his own lips as he sees the peace on his husband's face. After a moment, though, a frown appears as Yoongi furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"My dick hurts," Yoongi whines, managing to get his elbows under him to lift his chest from the table, head in his hands.

Jimin startles, standing bolt upright as he rushes down to look for any injury. "Oh shit, did I hit it?"

The laugh returns, bubbling out of Yoongi as he turns himself with great effort onto his back, chest still rising and falling dramatically. "No, Jimin-ah, don't worry," he assures, wincing when his ass-cheeks meet the unforgiving surface of the desk. "But if I don't cum soon, I think it's gonna explode."

Jimin's mouth falls open, relief and disbelief flooding his veins equally as he's faced with Yoongi's cock, so flushed with blood it's almost purple in places. "I- Okay, do you- do you want me to get you off, or do you want to keep playing?"

Yoongi looks at him like he's insane. "I mean... Preferably both, Minnie."

After the moment of scare, it takes surprisingly little time before that thrum of arousal is dialed up again, and Jimin smirks, running his hands up and down Yoongi's inner thighs to watch the way he naturally and obediently parts them for him.

"Do you know what I realised, baby?" Jimin coos, stubbornly avoiding the weeping cock in front of him. Yoongi mutters a weak response. "I realised that so far I've been doing all the work so far, haven't I? That isn't really fair, wouldn't you agree?"

Wary, Yoongi pauses and nods, the blur of tears long since replaced by the haze of arousal, of subspace beginning to creep in once more.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Jimin drawls, flattening a hand heavy on the soft flesh just above Yoongi's cock, making the man moan and wriggle to escape the pressure. "So I think, if you want to get off, you should put a little work in yourself. Make some effort, baby."

Yoongi takes a few heaving breaths, before slowly, so carefully, lowering his hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, immediately groaning at the touch. He's leaked so much precum that it takes a single shaky stroke to coat the sensitive skin, and a relieved smile spreads over his face at the thought that he's finally going to get off.

But where's the fun in that?

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Jimin spits stiffly, and flicks once at the very tip of Yoongi's dick.

His husband practically howls, curling up with a depraved cry. "Wha-at?" he sobs, hand trembling as it hovers on his thigh, fighting his desire. "What do you want, Minnie?"

"How sweet of you to ask," Jimin praises in a sugar-sweet voice, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. "Those hands are big enough to fit the both of us, aren't they?"

Blearily, Yoongi looks down as Jimin slips his aching cock out from his pants, fitting himself between Yoongi's spread legs so that their bobbing lengths bump together.

Even that contact is enough to make Yoongi hiss, but he's desperate and so he nods quickly, fingers trembling as they grab Jimin's cock, pinning them together in his grip. He pauses, panting as he stares up at Jimin for permission.

Jimin smiles placidly, bending forward to press a single chaste kiss to his husband's lips. "I don't want you cumming before I do, okay?" he asks sweetly, though the threat is thinly veiled.

Using the strength of his abdomen to lift his upper half off the desk, Yoongi stabilises himself with an elbow while his other hand jerks the two of them off together, thumb running over the sensitive heads, paying extra attention to Jimin's.

"That's it," Jimin groans, biting hard on his tongue. Truth be told, it was hard enough for him to hold back, feeling threads of an orgasm already knitting together in his stomach. But he's not willing to let go of the pretty sight of Yoongi just yet, so debauched and far gone as he shivers with every stroke, torn between making Jimin cum and preventing his own climax.

After mere minutes, Yoongi has collapsed back onto the desk, ankles curled around Jimin's back to hold him close, hand shaking violently.

"Please," he begs occasionally, but the moment his hand slows down to give himself a break, Jimin pinches his inner thigh in warning. They both knew marks there were allowed.

It's not until Yoongi is quite literally biting down on his own knuckles to hold back an orgasm that Jimin can't keep himself from cumming anymore.

Greedily, he runs his hands over Yoongi's sides, skimming the shirt up to put his chest on display, flicking at the delicate pink nipples. Jimin cums so hard he almost buckles forward onto Yoongi, spurting white all over Yoongi's hand and cock.

He holds himself up shakily, spouting praises to Yoongi as the wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his toes tingle and his fingers curl, scratches down Yoongi's chest and stomach.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna- Mi-Minnie, can I cum, oh fuh-fuck, no!"

One last liberty taken in his time as Yoongi's dom, Jimin pulls himself away, pinning Yoongi's wrists to the table and watching as his cock, dripping white, bobs desperately in the air, seeking friction.

Yoongi babbles pleas and curses, hips jerking, but it only takes Jimin leaning down, blowing a single thin stream of cool air over Yoongi's cock for Yoongi's thighs to tense. He cums, untouched, shuddering and seizing on the table as Jimin takes mercy and wraps his hand around him to stroke him through it.

"Look at you," Jimin croons in wonder, watching cum spill between his fingers, the two of them mixed together indistinguishably. "Baby, you look perfect like this. Please tell me you want to do that again."

Yoongi makes a strangled, guttural noise as he goes limp on the table, legs dangling off the edge. "Fuck, not right away, you demon," he protests grumpily, "now come kiss me again."

With a fond beam, heart so full with love and post-orgasm endorphins that he can barely handle it, Jimin tugs him up by his forearms and joins their mouths together, Yoongi's one dry hand tangling in his hair as he smiles into the kiss.

It takes only a few moments, however, for the sticky reality to sink in, and soon enough Yoongi is parting, letting his forehead rest against Jimin's. "I don't suppose there are any wet wipes in here?" he ventures.

Jimin chuckles, leaning back. "Cleaning materials in the desk drawers," he divulges.

With crazy sex hair and wide eyes, Yoongi makes quite the picture. "Fuck, I love this place. Let's try the interrogation one next time, yeah?"

#bts smut #bts fic #jimin smut #yoongi smut #yoonmin #yoonmin smut #yoonmin fic #jimin fic #yoongi fic #dom jimin #sub yoongi

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medicifm · 3 years

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* not me actually writing an intro the night before like i always mean to 😳 hennyway hey biddies , i'm chloe , im in the snowy part of pst , & i use she / her pns . i’ve been . . . . . . . scouring the tags for an rp like this so im so excited to bring this newish muse of mine here ! im here to do the honours of introducing my himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside . . . oscar 🤡

( twenty three , cis man , he / him ) ✉ ― hey babes , have you met OSCAR MEDICI ? they’re working here as THE HEAD CHEF AT LORENZO’S , a few villas down from where you’re staying . you might hear them singing ALRIGHTY APHRODITE BY PEACH PIT playing from their villa , it’s their favourite song . yes , they hear that they look like JACK GILINSKY a lot , actually - it’s really uncanny . their friends back home in SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA say that if they were on a tv show , their trope would be THE WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING , how funny is that ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢 .

pinterest | wanted plots |

𝐢𝐢 .

name : oscar gabriel medici

age : twenty three

dob / sign : december 4th , 1997 / sagittarius sun , leo moon , libra rising

pob : sydney , australia

gender / pronouns : cis man & he / him / his

career : head chef at lorenzo’s , full - time heathen , professional disappointment for mothers everywhere .

drinking / drugs / smoking : yes / more often than he’d admit / never .

religion : jewish background , currently non - practicing .

physical : jack gilinsky fc , dark brown / black longish curls ( reference ) , dark brown eyes , canon jack g’s tattoos , no piercings , 6′2″ , 175 lbs , lean but strong . tattoos a la canon!jack , pearly white smile that he may . . . or may not . . . use crest 3D white strips weekly to maintain . lots of burns & scars from kitchen mishaps on his hands & arms .

traits : hard - working , flighty , intelligent , hedonistic , charismatic , intense , volatile ,

other : speaks weird french ( aussie accent tings ) , tans easily but wears sunscreen nonetheless , works hard parties harder , can’t read a lick of french but spends a lot of his free time with a coffee & a new paperback , has a bit of an internal vendetta against rich people ( for no real reason , he just doesn’t like most of them ) , has ins with a bunch the local farmers & visits them weekly , pretends he isn’t lowkey addicted to nicotine administered via a puff bar , liquor of preference is tequila or red wine , drives a lil vespa around town for the gag of it ( loves seeing it haphazardly parked amongst a bunch of luxury cars ) ,

character inspo : jess mariano ( gilmore girls ) , gordon ramsey 🤡 , patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢 .

oscar’s arrival was as unwanted to his parents as could be : a father whose tendencies leaned towards alcoholism & abusing whoever was in arms reach , a mother whose life was more or less spent at the nursing home she worked as a nurse at , evading home . he became a self - inflicted loner , preferring to do literally the exact opposite of what was expected or wanted from him . he had a few friends he ran with , but watching them all go off & study or prepare for university solidified in oscar’s mind that the non - traditional route was for him . growing up by the water , oscar always felt more drawn to skip school & head to the beach than he did obeying his parents wishes .

one of his solaces was his grandfather , gabriel , who owned an italian restaurant in a beach town north of sydney . whenever the weather was bad & oscar felt like ditching class , he’d head over to his nono’s restaurant where his ass would be put to work as soon as he set eyes on the restaurant . it was tough work , but challenging in a way that fanned the flames in oscar’s heart , rather than dimming them . by the time he was a teenager he was working in the restaurant everyday after school , an agreement between him & his grandfather framed on the back wall that stated that as long as oscar kept from flunking out , he was allowed to spend as little or as much time in the kitchen as he pleased .

his absolute defiance of anything traditional & following the rules made him unpopular with adults , but lowkey cool with the girls . by the time he was sixteen , he was losing his focus on the restaurant & his grades & spending more & more time chasing after girls . his nono tried to get oscar to come back & focus , but as always , anything he’s asked to do quickly becomes the thing he’s running from the most .

tw : death , cancer . around his eighteenth birthday , his grandfather suddenly fell ill with a rare form of cancer that took his life six weeks after diagnosis , which rocked oscar’s world . he felt overwhelming guilt that he hadn’t spent more time with his grandfather , which manifested itself as oscar dropping out of school a year shy of graduation to commit himself fully to perfecting his grandfather’s techniques , learning all of his recipes ( read : pouring over dozens of handwritten cookbooks ) in some failed attempt to get back some time with him . oscar hadn’t been close with his parents in years , more or less seeing them as wardens of a prison he wanted nothing to do with . his grandfather’s will left him the deed to the restaurant , with an ask that oscar would promise to act on whatever he felt called towards , rather than doing what others expected of him . to be candid , this whole situation crushed him .

eventually , he decided he’d had enough of the stifling community he’d grown up in . he sold the restaurant to one of the regulars , a wealthy man who he’d come to acknowledge as somewhat of an uncle ; a safe pair of hands who would treat his grandfather’s legacy with as much passion & respect as oscar himself would . so he packed a bag , texted his mom that he was going traveling , & got on a flight that evening . he traveled all around - first through central america , then through europe , throughout asia & africa , & spent a few months driving a van across the continental united states & canada for fun .

eventually , he started getting low - ish on money , & decided to settle in one of his favourite places he’d visited : southern france . he arrived in early 2018 , taking on whatever menial tasks he could while learning french until he got a position as a line cook in an italian restaurant . a few years later , he’s made his way up to filling the head chef position , an honour he takes with pride . he’s implemented many of his own recipes while using flavours he’s learned from his travels , with ingredients straight from local farmers . he’s earned the restaurant a two michelin star rating , & is constantly striving for more to get that last star ( both for his own ego as well as a secret debt to his grandfather ) .

𝐢𝐯 .

ok but that vid where gordon puts two pieces of bread on someone’s head & calls them an idiot sandwich ? that’s oscar . intense as fuck in the kitchen , & best nobody catch an attitude about it bc he will not hesitate to hand them their ass on a silver platter .

another gordon reference : you know how he’s the spawn of satan with adults , but the sweetest , most helpul guy with children ? that’s oscar with his staff vs people he wants something from . whether its to sleep with them ( usually his first instinct to be fair ) , their money or clout , or to get into some wild adventure some random resort staff wouldn’t dream of getting into , he can turn on the charm whenever needed .

can go from absolutely demoralizing someone in the kitchen to stepping out into the lounge to schmooze with his friends or cougars who leave phat tips in 0.2 seconds . the speed at which his mood can completely 180 is one of the seven world wonders ( last i checked ) .

his love language is absolutely acts of service . catch him actually falling in love once in a blue moon & making it his mission to cook her extravagant meals everyday .

the wolf in sheep’s clothing label epitomizes his nice , helpful , charismatic exterior , while ulterior motives & disdain for those who grew up with more money than he did lurk beneath the surface .

he can be MEAN when someone fucks him over or pushes him farther than he wants - isn’t afraid to go for the low blows or send someone home with an identity crisis if it protects himself .

lowkey alcoholic but he’s not ready for that conversation yet . he sees it more as perks of the location & atmosphere he’s found himself in .

also lowkey falls in love HARD , like this man is a closeted romantic but self - sabotages all potential relationships before they can get to that point out of fear he’ll be unable to live life of his own volition ( takes a flaky philophobic sagittarius to know a flaky philophobic sagittarius 🤡 ) . has probably only had a few real relationships besides flings bc he’s afraid .

𝐯 .

check out my wanted plots tag listed here , as well as my pinterest wanted plots board here . here are some other suggestions hehe :

best friend / ride or die : someone who knows about his past , keeps him grounded when he’s lk spiraling & wants to drop everything & flee to some far flung corner of the earth .

actual relationship : it was fast - burn with deep feelings ( not them thinking they’re soulmates after dating for a month . . . pete & ariana type beat ) but completely unrealistic . they have their own life , he’s pretty much tied to the restaurant , not to mention his lack of sharing anything about his childhood / life back home . they loved & cared for each other , but crashed & burned fairly quickly because of how idealistic it was . they can either be on bad or good terms now .

hateship with sexual tension 😈

summer flings !!

fake boyfriend : he shows up on her arm to her family’s events where she’s expected to have a partner . it’s not a real relationship , but her parents don’t need to know that . he plays the part & satisfies her parents beyond the bare minimum , & in return she invites him to parties , takes him out on her family’s yacht , etc etc . we luv some symbiosis

i can always use more fwbs hehehe

squad : a group of people who do everything together , have a chaotic group chat , have nicknames for one another , are utd on each other’s sex lives , party all night then show up to brunch hungover together .

cat & mouse : someone he’s pursuing who isn’t quite giving in , & vice versa . maybe it’s been going on a few years , everytime they’re in st tropez they have this weird lil flirtationship thing goin on until she leaves , they forget about one another , then pick it right back up when she returns .

confidant : preferably someone from a working class background who understands his plight of being a worker amongst people who expect to be waited on .

enemies : they don’t like his attitude , & he doesn’t like them in return . lots of eye rolls , shit talking , & tension between their mutual friends .

we’re sleeping together but we shouldn’t be but that’s half the fun : for whatever reason they became friends , starting hooking up despite it not being a good idea ( read : he’s exes with one of her friends , her parents want her focused on career , they’re part of the same friend group , etc ) . . . but now they can’t stop . lots of stolen glances across rooms , squeezing past one another in a crowded club just close enough for a quick touch to the back , quietly leaving one another’s places the morning after & playing dumb to anyone who asks .

#villasintro #eeeek im hyped !!

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billdenbrough · 4 years

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so, a while ago, @audraphillipps tagged this post with a tag saying that bichie were on ron/harry levels, and like... i have literally not stopped thinking about it since? i was talking to @neibolttrio when nat’s reblog popped up on my dash and i went completely feral (ara can confirm, and also was right there with me) bc there’s just like. so much there!!

i know i said in the neville/eddie ask that i tend to think mapping characters onto each other is reductive, and i stand by that (there’s a difference between loose parallels and trying to make them fit neatly, you know? and sometimes equating the characters isn’t the most effective way to express that), and it’s not even what nat was saying, but like. there are parallels

just to get the basics down: bill/harry, richie/ron

(which is interesting bc @benverlesbians and i were having a discussion (well, in tags) where i posited stan as logos and eddie as pathos, and bc jem is galaxy brain, she carried it home to position richie as ethos, and i stand by our choices, but for the golden trio, i’d put harry as ethos and ron as pathos and hermione as logos (like i think there’s other combinations that fit too, but i think this fits best for me), which is interesting. not bc i think the parallels need to map perfectly, but it’s just really fucking fascinating to me how people can shift in different contexts, like new dynamics lead to new positionings... [siken vc: what can you know about a person? they shift in the light. you can’t light up all sides at once] anyway tangent over)

like on the most basic of levels, bill leads his friendship group, and richie is his Loyal Best Friend who follows him everywhere, even places he doesn’t want to go (ron LITERALLY invokes the idea of following. “follow the spiders,” he says, twelve and terrified and going anyway, because harry’s going, because hermione’s hurt and needs them, because hagrid’s been accused, because ron loves his friends)

i think something we don’t talk about super often (at least recently, i don’t want to presume about earlier content i missed) is how anger plays its part in bill’s story, in terms of the degree to which it motivates his quest to kill It. like at one point in the book he even frames it as “using his friends, risking their lives — to settle the score for his dead brother”, which i think is indicative of the anger/desire for revenge that drives it (and that’s not all that motivates him, but it’s definitely a major component)—-that sense of revenge isn’t present as much in the films, mostly because bill is desperate to try hold onto the idea that georgie is still alive (haha, harry after sirius goes through the veil, anyone?), but it’s still there, i think, mostly in the moments bill charges off (even when all his friends are shouting at him to wait or not go) bc he’s so determined that It won’t get away, not this fucking time. and that’s something true of harry too, the way his anger can consume him. we see it throughout the whole series, but order of the phoenix is the most relevant part rn, with how enraged he is after sirius’ death. how gasping and jagged and burning with fury he is. he tries to hurt bellatrix, wants to hurt her in ways we’ve never seen from him, and it’s desperate furious grief leading him to chase her from the room with the veil. and there’s a line, a little later, that always hits me in the chest: when harry is shouting I DON’T CARE and destroying dumbledore’s office, the reply is “you care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it”. which honestly is just generally applicable to the losers, given how much heart they have and how much trauma they endure, but i look at baby book bill, with his revenge-seeking, and i look at jaeden’s bill, with his trembling voice but resolute expression as he gives the “walking into this house is easier than walking into my own” speech, and this quote hits me in the chest

(wrt the bill quote abt risking their lives: it’s important, i think, bc it’s incredibly cognisant of what he’s asking, which is illuminating. but ig to balance it against some things losers say, so that it’s... like he leads them there, absolutely, but they all follow him, and that’s important too. they do choose to, and their choice matters, it’s not just on him. anyway something eddie says, while looking at bill (and it’s not like. in the context of dying for bill’s quest, but it’s got the love and hero worship mention that suggests it applies to more than just the moment), “some stuff has to be done even if there is a risk. that’s the first important thing i ever found out i didn’t find out from my mother”. also, when the werewolf has bill, he’s shouting for richie to go, to get out, and richie stays and tries to save him instead. and i think both their choices there matter)

richie, as much as he Jokes, is one of the more pragmatic and resourceful losers, and really fucking smart, and so often underestimated. (hello, master strategist ron weasley. hello, prefect who literally nobody expected. hello, insecurity) like... we all know how richie is brainy, but also, like. when he’s not clouded by his own fears, he sees things with clarity so sharp it could cut you. (“It’s a monster,” Richie said flatly. “Some kind of monster. Some kind of monster right here in Derry. And it’s killing kids.”) there’s a line, bill says it when talking abt richie and eddie in fights, and it’s about how richie simply can’t keep his mouth shut, like he has to insult bowers, even when he’s got his hands on him. which is actually pretty harry energy, but ron’s the closest thing amongst any of the hp characters to a trashmouth, ron’s the one who doesn’t hesitate to be rude on behalf of his friends (harry tends to be worked up when he says these things; ron’s just naturally got that energy. “light reading? that’s light reading?” is the same energy as “can only virgins see this? is that why i’m not seeing this shit?” don’t @ me), ron’s the one who drags harry for filth when he’s being an idiot. ron follows harry, even when he’s mad about it. and boy oh boy. richie is ambitious, richie is always practicing his Voices because he wants them to be worth a damn one day, richie is constantly trying. and ron’s erised is based in simply wanting to stand out in a family full of people he thinks are more interesting or valued than him, amongst best friends who are more incredible, which is a different motivation, sure, but look at his dreams. look at how high he rises when he lets himself want it. richie’s always doing Voices because it’s easier to Pretend to be someone else than be himself, and ron is constantly scrabbling for purchase in a world where he thinks he’ll never be worthy

(there’s room for discussion about how ron’s fears are primarily creature based—spiders, werewolves, the grim; how sirius hurt him, even unintentionally, how he was betrayed by peter, how his father was attacked by a snake, how his brother was attacked by a werewolf—and how richie has his famous werewolf, but that’s more abstract of an analysis than i’m doing here, i’m just thinking about the parallels, so this is more throwing a thought out.)

and, boy oh boy. my favourite part of this. i mean, we get ron and harry always together (consider: neibolt house (in the book, when bill and richie go there; in the film, when they’re confronting the doors, separated from eddie) as their chamber of secrets), them being best friends, ron having harry’s back even against his own family (ron angrily tearing up percy’s letter and calling him a git, esp after harry doesn’t know how to react in a way that doesn’t show how much it upsets him, has my entire fucking heart), harry having ron as “what [he’ll] sorely miss”... but. but but but. we also have the goblet of fire fight. even more crucially, we have the blow up in deathly hallows. they fight, they fight, and it’s bad. harry and bill you could compare a little with their focus, ig, but the crucial part is ron and richie. ron throws harry’s parents in his face when he’s terrified for his family (and under the influence of a horcrux); richie says georgie’s dead and for the first time all film, doesn’t take it back, not when eddie’s gone and stanley’s terrified and ben’s leaking blood and richie doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want his friends to die. it’s best friends fighting viciously, with something too sharp to hold—-it’s words that cut like knives, fists in the middle of the street and leaving when they’ve always followed you.

but. it’s also coming back. when harry needs him, ron is there. they haven’t had a chance to talk about anything, but ron is saving him. when bev goes missing, when bill goes to richie, even though thing are still fractured, still angry, richie comes back. richie follows. even when they haven’t talked about anything as far as we can tell, even when there’s no resolution to their fight, richie’s the one who stands up and makes the choice that mobilises the losers, the one who tells bill everything bad that’s happened from following him but follows him yet again, doesn’t leave him behind, stays and saves him. it’s about the coming back, the saving, the i’d follow you anywhere of it all. like god but georgie/bill is the dynamic that informs chapter one & richie/bill is the dynamic that drives it // lily/harry is the dynamic that informs the hp series but ron/harry is the one that bookends it—-the first person he ever chooses, who ever chooses him in return, and he’s right there at the end, when all is well. billrichie ronharry best friend RIGHTS

not really part of this but other things that make me scream: bill and richie on silver when richie’s catatonic/harry and ron when ron’s out of it bc of the brains (and also, now that i think abt it, injured from sirius’ bite). ron clinging to harry’s side in the forbidden forest w aragog/“i’m stickin’ with you, big bill”. ron imitating harry’s parseltongue to get to the chamber of secrets, taking hermione down the path they took/richie remembering confronting the doors with bill, trying to take eddie down the path they took.

#richie tozier #bill denbrough #bichie #hp #it #chapter one #finally posting at least one of the posts i told ara i’d make! fhsjdjsj #i’m writing this on mobile omw to roch so i can’t check my messages w ara let alone scroll through them to find all the stuff so #ig i’ll add them if there are any egregious omissions fhsjdjsjs #this is. such a niche hobbyhorse #like. less niche than when i lost my mind over bichie and greek tragedy and psychopomps to poor ara. but still Niche #got vibechecked off facetime so am now continuing this on the bus from roch :( to london... miss her already!!!!#long post //#im so tired fhsjdjd who knows if this makes sense. im simply posting it anyway #ALSO obviously hermione is also part of the trio. and all the losers (but esp eddie and stan) are best friends w bichie too. but. these two #individual dynamics are..... so important and incredible thank u for ur time #my bus has nearly arrived so wish me luck navigating london victoria when im this tired babes fhsjdjsj

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ofspartax · 6 years

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— ✧ HUNTER PARRISH?, NO, THAT’S JUST KEVIN PRYDE! THEY’RE THE TWENTY-EIGHT YEAR OLD SON OF J'SON OF SPARTAX ( ADOPTED SON OF KITTY PRYDE ). THEY ARE ALSO AN ASSISTANT TEACHER FOR ASTROPHYSICS & ASTROCHEMISTRY AT PARAGON. I HEAR THEY’RE DETERMINED & INTELLIGENT BUT TEND TO BE LIGHTHEARTED & WISHFUL. HIS FILE SAYS THAT HIS POWER IS SPARTOI PHYSIOLOGY.

YA FAVE ALIEN PRINCE IS BACK :^) also this is so fuckin long but it’s... necessary kcjfdka

he is 100% spartoi, born on spartax & raised there until age 16 when he came to earth

j’son of spartax ( aka peter’s dad ) is also his dad

which makes him the crown prince of the spartoi empire, as peter has repetitively rejected it, etc & victoria ( their half sister ) isn’t of full royal blood... amongst other awful things we won’t mention bc j’son suxx, isn’t eligible for the throne ( however she IS the captain & commander of the royal guard, so. )

kevin’s biological mother is a noblewoman named x’nthe ( obv made up but like, presumably... for the purpose of everything, let’s say she/j’son courted each other at some point & kevin was a result of that union skjdfhjd. )

however x’nthe, after a certain point in toddler kevin’s life, ended up fucking off to star harbor, the military school of spartax, to be an instructor. of course j’son took care of the kid then ---- one son hates him, and his daughter is illegitimate, so naturally he’s going to take care of kevin the goddamn best he can in hopes of raising him up to be the future emperor

that being said, kevin received a formal schooling in his spartoi politics and military/combat, alongside being educated on other galaxies/planets and those respective empires

kevin was SPOILED ROTTEN, okay?? like, if we know anything about the spartoi, it’s that the royal fam can be extra as fuck ( as are a lot of royal families, truthfully ); even in victoria’s captain outfit, we see she wears ( what can be presumed as ) real gold. the most common color scheme of spartax is gold & maroon so we can make a p decent guess that the royal fam ( and maybe even the royal guard, tbh ) uses actual gold so ,,,

NOW, BECAUSE J’SON HAD KEVIN TREATED LIKE THE LITTLE PRINCE HE IS, KEVIN LOVED HIS DAD!!!! A LOT!!! although he wasn’t exactly aware j’son was his dad --- there was, apparently, never real reason to reiterate they clearly shared a familial bond as everyone understood it was there

except ... that’s where a mistake!!! comes in

now ... since nobody outside of spartax knew what exactly the deal was with kevin’s parentage, it was very easy to assume peter was his father... and that’s exactly what people ended up doing

SO CLEARLY THE SECOND THIS CATCHES PETER’S EARS HE’S LIKE, WHAT THE FUCK, AND INSTANTLY GOES TO SPARTAX LIKE?? HE HAS TO SEE THIS SHIT FOR HIMSELF, SINCE HE WOULDN’T PUT IT PAST J’SON TO START SOME FUCKED UP RUMOR LIKE THAT

well what do you know, there’s a 16 year old boy decked out in clothes that v much associate him to being part of the royal fam! a 16 year old boy, who looks strangely identical to peter when peter was that age

then, you know, shit happened and peter was like “yeah no fuck this, i’m taking my kid back wtf??” which… naturally, j’son wasn’t thrilled about and hONESTLY NEITHER WAS KEVIN LIKE WHAT No

WAS EXTREMELY AGAINST THE IDEA OF LEAVING SPARTAX & GOING TO TERRA ( EARTH ) W/ PETER like, peter is a stranger claiming to be his FATHER, of all things

just... kevin didn’t like it at all, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good arguing over it

ESPECIALLY SINCE in an moment of this all, j’son realized it was a chance for kevin to be safe from the danger of lurking enemies to the royal fam?? like?? damn j’son made A LOT of enemies thanks to being a horrible person and literal intergalactic warlord ok and to target his heir is a BIG THING so what better way to hide the poor kid is to ship him off to another planet in another solar system riiight

but!!! in the midst of kevin’s literal teen angst and missing spartax/j’son/etc, kitty was SO KIND TO HIM & GENUINELY LOVED HIM AS IF HE WAS HER OWN & It got him fuckin SHOOK like he never had a proper mother figure so it def solidified this relationship 10/10 like ... wow someone actually wants him :^) cuz peter was off a lot w/ the guardians a lot anyhow & although kev def tagged along at times, it was the worst bc all kevin wanted to do was go back to spartax which obv in peter’s eyes ( and the others ) was a huge no

when kevin turned 17, kitty legally adopted him as her son

KITTY DID HER FUCKIN BEST TO HELP KEVIN CATCH UP W/ SCHOOL!!! AND HE’S A QUICK/EASY LEARNER & V DETERMINED TO MAKE SOMETHING OF HIMSELF SO HE CAUGHT ON FAST & just ... it was another pure bonding moment between them that made kevin realize like, hey maybe it isn’t so awful down here...

when then kevin turned 18, kitty threw him a late bar mitzvah since after trying half-and-half so to speak of christmas / hanukkah, kevin found he identifies more with being jewish & that’s how he was then-on raised

also, peter was the one who told kevin about all the godawful things j’son has done and it did nothing but make kevin more angry at peter because how dare he rUIN THE MEMORY ?? like sure j’son is awful!! ok!! but kevin was p innocent/naive when it came to THAT bit since why ... would j’son want his only chance at a proper heir to end up hating him right haha :/

tl;dr --- kevin took a long time to stop glaring at peter whenever they were in the same room, and kevin instantly fuckin loved kitty ok

DEF DID HIS BEST TO BE A GOOD BIG BROTHER FOR DINAH, TOO!! also definitely would have babysat her often when both kitty & peter were busy i bet given the age difference

when he was 23, kitty and peter officially divorced. naturally ... he felt a lot more inclined to “take kitty’s side”, as although by this point kevin grew to love earth, peter is still responsible for totally flipping kevin’s life upside down without even asking how he felt about it all

kevin’s the teachers assistant for astrophysics and astrochemistry, and is currently working towards dual phds in both subjects ( he has ab 5, almost 4 years left )

he is... a #gaylien and proud of it ( poly/pan ); he’s currently in a relationship w/ noah dane-summers, fabian todd, and jasper harkness

his last name was changed to pryde very recently, as only a short while ago, kevin found out the truth of his parentage. j’son is his father and explained everything in a letter sent by two royal guards, as well as confirmation via some alien technology that allowed them to communicate ( u kno what i mean, like video conference type stuff idkidk lmao )

since kevin always preferred kitty to peter, even when they believed peter was his dad, it only made sense for kevin to change it legally. he had no real connection/reason to keep the quill name, in his opinion

altho he was/is still rly mad at j’son for just letting this happen and the whole “”plan”” like fuck ur plan u just lost out on nearly 13 years of raising me!!!!!!! why did u let me get taken!!!!! i thOUGHT U LOVED ME---

but, uh ,, OVERALL KEVIN IS V INTELLIGENT AND LOVING AND JUST WANTS THE FUCKIN BEST FOR THOSE WHO HE CARES AB!!! WILL FIGHT IF HE NEEDS TO, BUT HONESTLY PREFERS TO NOT LMao

+++ when he figured out what memes were, he mcfreakin lost it he still loves memes ya boi :^)

#sidekick.intro #this is over 1k words i checked #i'm sorry but also i'm not

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ao3-writer · 7 years

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Black & White; The Invitation

Yo, so I’ve decided I will start this series and before anything else, I am going to state that my updates are most likely going to be random, but I will try and post a new chapter at least once a week. This will keep you guys on your toes and (hopefully) not bored. This is entirely told from the 3rd POV, but if you guys/gals would rather it be 1st person, I can do that too.

Also, I will continued to answer asks and such every now and then, if you want to stick to the consistent updates of this series, I suggest you turn on notifs for me just in case.

Don’t forget to vote. I’ll set a limit of 72 to 120 hours (three to five days) from when the fic was originally posted. I’ll throw in a reminder and a time stamp at the end of each update too.

If I messed up in some way or if something I wrote is alarming and such, don’t hesitate in telling me. I really want this to be a good experience for everyone that reads :)

How long will the series take? I’m not sure. School’s starting back up again so I hope to finish this before/around October. Maybe. We’ll see.

That’s all I have to say on the matter. So, without further ado- Enjoy!

[Side Note: This’ll probably be the most boring chapter bc a lot of intro and such so bear with me on this one, Great.]

The second the letter slid through their doors, they all felt goosebumps raise. Who even sent letters anymore besides the IRS? Nobody. Except grandparents. But do they ever write to their grandkids anymore?

Jack was the first one to open his. He tore into it, the curiosity being a normal attribute of his that never stopped him. The actual letter had a red trim along the edge, shiny and fancy. The words were written in big, loopy cursive that could only be predated to that of a fancier age in history.

Mark stared at his own card, almost startled by how clean it looked. Elegant, some would say. But... for what purpose? He couldn’t tell. The other nine invitees couldn’t figure it out either.

It was simple. A little invitation to a “fun gathering” of some sort in what appeared to be a small estate upon looking at it, but once up close, it resembled a mansion. The walls pale and brown, the front steps a soft gray that could’ve resembled plastic but it was clay. The road into the estate was neatly paved, as if it was polished clean day in and day out.

“I’m sorry.” Mark interrupted the silence of the car ride. “Where exactly are we?”

The chauffeur look into the rear-view mirror and glanced at Mark and Amy where they sat quietly.

“Or... not,” Mark mumbled quietly as he looked back out the tinted windows to see they had entered a set of gates. Multiple cars all came around a large fountain that stood in front of the mansion, the chauffeurs all exited and opened the doors unanimously, like clockwork.

Mutters of “thank you’s” and “goodbye” were what was left before the cars drove off in file. The ten invitees all stood at the foot of the steps that led to the great, white doors that awaited them. One by one, they all clambered up in fancy gowns and attires as they reached the doors. A small doorbell called to Mark’s name, he pressed down on it once. Seconds passed before the doors opened majestically to reveal decor that came from a fairytale.

A sparkling chandelier hung above their heads at a great height, the diamonds and shards of glass that twinkled had them mesmerized. The floor was marble, intricate designs of the most wealthy of symbols and twirls were outlined in different shades of marble. Standing in the center stood a man with slightly tanned skin, almost caramel, his hair swiped to the side magnificently and a smile that reflected his bright white teeth.

“Welcome. I’m glad you could arrive. How was the ride?” He asked, voice high and cheerful. This set off alarms in Ethan’s head.

A chorus of compliments came from the guests and the man spread open his arm, pointing toward an entrance toward what must be a dining room.

“Right this way, folks.”

Everyone mumbled and spoke amongst themselves. Their conversations hushed and confused.

Eventually they found their way into a large room with a long dining table, some small appetizers placed along the narrow path, some people made their way to the table almost immediately.

“Please, seat yourselves and dig in to what food is there. The main meal will be served in just a moment,” the man said, smile bright and friendly.

“Is it just me or is this place kinda creepy?” Ethan mumbled to Amy. She shrugged as she popped a shrimp into her mouth.

“I don’t know, but the food is good,” she said chewing another shrimp that she’s manged to take down. The rest of the guests are all familiar faces that he’s seen and met before.

There was Dan and Phil over to the right of him, analyzing the lettuce wraps as if they’d jump and bite them. There was Rosanna, from Nerdy Nummies, talking to Mathew and Stephanie from Game Theory. Signe and Jack were staring at the decorations on the walls behind them. Then Ethan, Amy and Mark hovered next to the dinner table as Amy and Mark ate the food.

Ethan had came for Tyler, he had gotten sick and couldn’t make it but gave his invitation happily to Ethan. Which, he now regretted considering he got chills all over the second he got into that car.

“Please, take a seat. No need to stand and meddle. Let’s get to know each other, how about that?” The Kind-Man asked. Everyone took his advice, finding a seat and sitting down. “I’ll start. I am your host, my name is Lucas and I am newly engaged. I help run a catering business with the love of my life in town.”

Everyone stares at him and he nods his head over to his right.

“Oh, uh, my name’s Dan. I know all of you, thank God, and presumably we all do YouTube here? So let’s get that out of the way first. Secondly, I am single and ready to cry.”

They each go down the table, one by one. Phil was nest, and they followed order until they reached Signe, who sat on Lucas’ left. By the time they finish introducing themselves, as if it wasn’t an everyday normality, a maid and a butler walk in from a swinging door, presumably to the kitchen with trays of food.

And all of the food that was soon placed on the table was mouth watering.

“A toast,” Lucas said, raising his glass before everyone reached simultaneously for trays of food, “to a night of fun surprises and reckless memories.”

Everyone raised their glass and cheered weakly, before taking a drink and setting them down to start eating. The food was even better than it looked. In just a few minutes, Ro stole half the cornbread and Jack was stuffing himself with all the sausage links on his end of the table. Lucas’ plate seemed almost empty with few contents on it while the rest seemed to have loaded theirs up.

In the middle of chatter and witty banter, Signe excused herself to go touch up on makeup. She left the table and quietly walked off, asking the maid in the process where the restroom was.

Down the hall and to the right, she entered, locking the door behind her. She stared at herself in the mirror, seeing she had smudged some of her lipstick and her wing was starting to droop. She snatched a wipe from her clutch, wiping away the rest of her lipstick since they were eating after all. Tried to touch up her wing, scoffing as she did so when she wiped off too much.

She spent a good minute or two attempting to reapply it when she heard a knock.

“Occupied!” She said, trying not too move too much as she came close to finishing. Another harsh knock and she sighed. “Just a minute! I’ll be out soon!”

Once successfully saving her makeup dilemma, Signe closed her clutch and opened the door.

“Jaysus, someone’s impatie--” She began to mumble before being struck on the head. She groaned, hand on her temple where she was hit as she stumbled back into the bathroom. The figure followed her and closed the door behind them, locking it in the process.

The chatter in the dining room continued, everyone carrying on their conversations happily as they ate, unaware of the sounds of Signe’s sudden despair. As the minutes ticked by and Jack grew lonely, he spoke over everyone else at the table.

“Hey, can someone check up on Signe?” Jack asked, looking at everyone else. “She’s been gone for a while and I’m just worried she didn’t get lostin this big house.”

Everyone exchanged glances, many of them silently begging not to leave the amazing food behind.

“Sure,” Ethan replied after the conversations stopped.

“No, I’ll go,” Dan said, “I need to use the loo anyway.” The two men stood up almost simultaneously, they stared down one another awkwardly before looking at Jack who suddenly felt the pressure.

He didn’t understand why this felt like such a big decision. He’s sure Signe’s fine, but he’s just worried. What could he do?

V O T E : Dan Howell or Ethan Nestor to find Signe

Voting Polls Close in 48 hours (2 days)

[So this is what the voting will end up being like. A scenario is given along with a question. You guys are given two to three options to vote for, do so in the comments/reblog. Don’t just like it. There’s the time limit before I close the polls.]

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incursionofthedamnedrpg · 7 years

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Henrik Mikaelson (Colton Haynes OC) Accepted! You know the drill, Annie!

Name: annie

Age: 21

Timezone: gmt

State an account where we can message you: dis one

How active you’re going to be: (1-10) 6/7

How did you find out about this roleplay? in it brah

Why do you want to play this character? bc henrik is my child

Anything else you would like to tell us? (Changes, suggestions…etc)

IC:

Preferred Ships: chemistry

Sample para: RFP.

Name: Henrik Mikaelson Birthday: June 17th (24/1000+) Species: Warlock Lookalike: Colton Haynes Availability: Taken

Personality:

Henrik used to be a bubbly, happy boy. He loved purely, he was honest and loyal, just as you would imagine any young child. Time however, that’s something that can be a dangerous thing. After he had died a second time, Henrik was older and wiser, but it was not something to be admired, not when he was stuck on the other side. The centuries made him bitter, if not a little twisted. The kind soul is still there and he still finds that he enjoys certain things. Certain people he had met on the other side made him laugh, and he loves to tell a joke or twenty. He’s quite sarcastic and at times, rather boisterous. After all, he technically still is just 24 years old. Henrik’s entire soul was forged in a place where only dead things lay their head, and he’s made him sly, sceptical and smart. People are con artists, and he is no different. If you have something he wants, he will either charm it out of you, or steal it like a thief in the night. Henrik cares very little for whatever people may label him, so long as he’s being who he wants to be, that’s all that matters. Just like his family, his patience is testy, his anger can be un-controlled, and being surrounded by the darkness both thrills and displeases him. If he cares for you, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do - if he considers you a threat… Well, we all know how a Mikaelson handles those.

Past

Henrik was the youngest of the Mikaelson’s. He was the reason his mother made his siblings into the Original vampires. His death spared the war that still rages on between vampires and wolves, but can Henrik really take the blame? All he did was fall at the claws of a wolf, it was Esther who made the decision that she would not suffer the loss of another child. Little to anybodies knowledge, Henrik ended up on the other-side. He was human, but he was also a warlock. He was forced to watch his family destroy themselves. They couldn’t see him, or hear his pleas, Henrik was useless to stop his mother performing the spell that would set the course of history. When it all came out that Klaus was not Mikael’s son, Henrik was disappointed in his mother. Not because of her affair, but because she did not accept his brother for what he was. Not that he would admit it, his young soul would never speak out of term to his mother, but he was hurt that she would betray her son. And so, when he witness Klaus taking her life, he fled. He didn’t want to have to speak to her, he wasn’t ready. Though, the other-side can be a very small face and given his young age, he was only able to hide for so long, until he had to face her. It had been a century, or so? The amount of time that had passed had gave Henrik the space he needed. When his mother saw his face, he was also pleased to see hers. A hundred years with no love, no comfort, his mothers embrace was welcomed.

It was no secret, Henrik hated being alone. He didn’t want to be on the other-side any longer, not even with his mother. So when Esther told him she could help him come back to life, his little face lit up with happiness. The only condition was, Esther demanded he didn’t try to contact his siblings. How could she ask that of him? He agreed, he would not seek out his family and in return, he could walk amongst the living once more. That was all he wanted - to be a part of something real. Henrik was only young, it’s not like he truly understood what he was agreeing to, but once he was brought back, he found himself to be more alone than he was dead. No family, no friends… What was the boy to do? After a week of being alone, he met a family on his travels. They were kind and they welcomed him into their home. Gave him food, shelter, and even a place to call home. Henrik was more than grateful, especially since the family could barely spare anything, they still took him in with no expectation of anything in return. Just over a decade had went by, he had adapted, he considered the family who took him in, his family. He grew, he worked, earned his keep, he became like a child to them and he loved them dearly… But - there was a deep, empty hole inside Henrik’s heart. The burden he carried, he did so alone. Nobody knew who he really was, and he longed for his blood siblings. No longer a child. No longer afraid of his mothers influence, he decided to find his brothers and sister. He used his blood to locate them, said goodbye to his family and set off on his way. Though, the journey was long and rough, Henrik was weak with an illness he assumed he would overcome. However, fate had other plans and whilst he was on the boat to England, he grew more weak, his body was failing him and he passed away before he reached the shore. At 24 years old, he was back on the other side.

Henrik wasn’t the baby his mother longed for, not now he was a grown man. He had a voice of his own and Esther did not appreciate what he had to say. Though he was saddened and even bitter about how his family seemed to have moved on without him, he would protect them against Esther no matter what. Avoiding her as much as he could, Henrik spent the next centuries passing through, watching his family from the other-side. Klaus. and the way he would slaughter innocents with no care for the carnage he caused. Elijah, with his claim to nobility, even he shed blood when it suited him. Rebekah, and the way longed for love, but was always left in the cold. Kol, who disobeyed and ran around like a reckless infant. Finn, who lay in a coffin, forgotten just like he was. These people would be like strangers to him had he not kept a beady eye on their movements. The centuries were long, lonely, but Henrik would not be beaten. He encountered many witches on the other-side, befriended them. Though, his friendship would come at a cost once the right moment presented itself. It wasn’t that he used people, not entirely, the company was often quite a pleasant thing, but Henrik could not be truly happy. Not until he was back in the real world. Capable of speaking to his family and actually being heard. That’s why, when Kol’s little witch Hazel died, she became the first person he was truly happy to be around. She was the one. She would help him return, he would make sure of it.

The ancestors wanted Hazel’s neck in a noose and given that they were not fond of Henrik’s intentions either, he took it upon himself to protect the witch with everything he had. Whilst they were together, he protected her from the ancestors, all the while keeping his true identity a secret by telling her his name was ‘Rik’. Not a complete lie, really. Henrik could easily understand Kol’s infatuation, Hazel was one hell of a strong soul. When Hazel was brought back to life, it gave Henrik a stronger connection to the living. With the power he had collected over the years, he was able to whisper in Hazel’s head, contact her. He asked for her help, it was never a secret to her that he wanted to be alive, so he hoped she would not betray him. And to his pleasure, she did not. Henrik pushed from the other-side, with his power and with the power of some witches, and Hazel pulled from her side. The process was harsh, but ultimately, a success. After all these centuries, Henrik could finally say that he was truly breathing. His identity remains a secret, but he will reveal who he is once he has settled. After he has connected with his family.

Present

Henrik has been in Mystic Falls for only two weeks, laying low, adjusting to his new lease of life. His family is a mess and he knows this, he also knows that his presence may not be welcomed. Not if he allows his bitterness to overcome his love. Henrik is angry that his family rarely, if ever, speak his name. Mad, that they never tried to bring him back… Pissed, that he was seemingly forgotten. He almost believes he would be un-wanted, but there is a tiny spark of hope that maybe, he will be proved wrong. Aware that he is not the child they remember, he knows it could prove difficult to get his family to believe he is who he says, so he has decided that if he has a say in it, he will introduce himself to Freya first. After all, the two never met, but she herself is in a similar position to him. With her being a witch, he hopes she will be able to sense it.

Fill out.

Connections

The Mikaelson’s

His family, Henrik is the youngest sibling, his death was the reason Esther made his siblings into vampires.

Hazel Prince

His saviour. He protected Hazel from the ancestors and formed a bond with her. In turn, she became the witch who helped him come back to life. He is in her debt and considers her to be a friend, not just a useful asset.

Aurora De’Martel

Curious of her, if not sceptical. Henrik is unsure if she is the person she says she is, or if her intentions with his brother are less than pure. They have not met, but he hopes to change that.

#accepted

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ts-2020-olympics · 4 years

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Episode 13 - “Put On My Villain Attire” - Sammy

This week was a lot, I made a mistake socially that hurt someone, and i couldnt be more disgusted or hurt with myself tonight. I feel awful for what i said about nicole, after tribal i cryed like a kid on call with sammy and Caeleb. Reaching out to nicole was hard because i dont want her to think im coming to say sorry as a game move. I respect nicole as a person, as a player, and I made a mistake, and it was time for me to own up to making a personal comment in context that should not have been personal. Now getting that out of the way, this week was crazy, the vote was Tommy, then Jacob, Then nicole, cut to tribal Nicole is excused from tribal, which im thankful for because i actually got to reach out to nicole after to say sorry for my comment. Getting a response was the last thing I expected from her. And it made me happy to get one, especially such an understanding one that came from her realizing that was not my intentions. Game wise going forward, im aware theres cracks in this alliance and im not 100% safe. But im gonna ride it till i cant no more. I don't want to think game tonight but obviously i need to keep thinking about the game. Immunity wise, i dont think its necessity that I need to win, Even after I had a blow up and such i still feel like those in the game understand how hard it was for me tonight and my truth of how i didnt mean to hurt nicole. I still feel the most close to Sammy and Caeleb, they where there for me tonight after tribal while a cried, so was Kevin and Emma, idealy these people are the people I want there with me at the end of the game. In other news, Darcy has exposed himself as someone who has voted out sammy, meaning the list of people who need to go before I need to start backstabbing gets longer Stoner, Tommy, Nicole and Darcy are IDEALLY the next 4 boots, but u never know what will happen in this game! I could be working with Nicole next round for all I know. ANYWAYS TLDR: Im sorry, me and nicole are fine, im in a good place in this game. Thank u for coming to this LONG ASS confessional.

im dying, so its been fun toodaloo

Actually feeling very frustrated atm. I wanted this immunity so bad. The way Nicole plays this game is very frustrating and I’d love to see the way she actually plays the real game. Is she just gonna sit under the hut and ignore everyone that approaches her. She just lies about everyone and the minute someone does something against her she cries in her host chat. I’m usually not a mean person but she deserves to be the villain of this season. I literally have always looked up to Nicole as a player bc I have seen how genuine and kind she can be. But this game has really tossed out how i viewed her as a player. As a person sure she’s great but there’s a way to play this game by having good character. I would hate to see me leave before Nicole but if it happens and she makes it to the finals that’s okay but she won’t have my vote poor management. Anyways don’t wanna make my whole confessional about Nicole since she’s made the whole game revolve around her actions already. I’d like to personally shoutout Jordan caeleb and Eve in this confessional. Truly are the rays of sunshine in this game. I have my doubts about Kevin, Emma, and Darcy because I think that they have connections to Nicole. Someone is playing everyone and it’s so frustrating. I was so close to winning this immunity. I need to survive. Also I am very annoyed that caeleb has not had to stress a single round since merge. Yeah he’s my closest ally but like it’s annoying i want someone else like me to be immune and i know it’s selfish but it’s just annoying. I need to figure this out. I might have to put on my villain attire for this round.

IMMUNITY? IMMUNITY? I HAVE THAT? Oh my god I think this may be like the first immunity I've actually one in the history of my Tumblr Survivor career (although checking the records there was one time I was just like individually immune for no reason during Seychelles premerge and I do not remember why) I needed this SO BAD, and even better is everyone is PISSED at me for winning, nobody can figure out where I figured out all the colors and it's SOOOOOOOOO FUNNY god bless, long live the underdog bayyyyyyybeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Okay, so here goes. To start off my confessional for this round, that past tribal really was a mess. Nicole played a tribal skip, so she survived, which was a good play on her part, but it led to some messy scrambles, and ended up losing probably my closest friend in this game (Love you Jacob <3,) I ended up voting in minority with Jacob to keep my word, even though I knew majority was on Jacob. In this game though, you got to take risks, and if the risk of keeping my word to my good friend outside this game ends up being my downfall, then so be it. However, one isn't going to win by playing it safe every round and voting with majority all the time, you got to vote in minority at times too and try to at least make some bold moves, to get out the threats, otherwise, you might as well just give them the money, as those players would all make finals, and one of them would win. Then where would the sheep be? They would be at the jury, alongside those who they voted out. Now, terms of this round, Nicole and I are trying to come together to split up the power trio of Eve, Caeleb and Sammy. Plan is to try getting out Eve, as Eve has everyone basically wrapped around their finger, which I do not like, and I think Eve has the best chance of winning this game if they make it to the end, so yea Eve has to go. I've also been hearing though, and sounds of things, Emma is wanting me out, and her reason I think is pretty well just because I haven't been voting with her. It's like, I have only been to 3 tribals so far with Emma (4 if you count this one,) and I voted with her the one tribal against Karen, then other tribal was just because I wanted to be loyal to my friend, and keep my word. The first time though, was because I found the other person more threatening to my game. Anyways, I am fighting my all right now to stay, and not going to back down, but if I end up going, so be it, I know I played a great game, and am glad with everything about it. Pitching to people though that I'm not threatening at all, I literally have 0 moves on my resume at the moment, and how I just want to try beating 7th, because as of currently, 7th is my best placement. Here goes nothing, and hopefully cards fall right, and Eve gets slain.

I’m kind of feeling hopeless after this round. Nobody actually wants to make the moves that need to be made, nobody wants to do anything actually smart. People are just being so short-sighted and playing for jury. Eve has an ego and will use it to make you believe that it’s her way or the highway. I feel like any cast with more than three braincells amongst them could really do something but, they won’t. Caeleb will win immunity yet again next round. I’ll go, then one by one they’ll go. I really just like, have no energy to guide these dummies to anywhere anymore. I’m tired. Even with immunity people are just ridiculously fake and annoying.

I think Emma is the plan for tonight. She's playing a double agent type of game which is super dangerous and people are starting to see through it plus me and her don't have the best past so I'm fine with Emma going. It gets me to the Final 10 and gets me one step closer to the Final Tribal Council. I also think once Emma goes I'll be nobodies #1 target and that'll put me in a good position for next vote as long as Nicole doesn't win immunity again. Although who knows things switch around in this game so fast and it could be me going home because if Emma gets wind of her name being out there I see her coming for me just because of our past and I do think there is viable reason for people to flip their votes onto Me, if Emma campaigns for me to go. I'm hoping my name doesn't get dragged into the conversation and it just stays between Emma, Eve, and Darcy so I have no chance of going home tonight. I'm just gonna lay low after this bit of strategy talk but be around if the wind starts to shift onto me.

Fuck I’m not home and don’t want a stike this will be a quick confessional, Sammy I’m so fucking sorry about this but you have such a good social game and I need you gone to free up the field. Formed an alliance with Darcy today that was random but now I actually trust him which is wierd. Still fucking people over with Nicole it’s crazy how that’s working. Next round is final 10 o need to make it past it or I might cry, once I pass that hurdle I’ve never heard passed I’m good. 9th- 1st no bitter Jordan pines, don’t get me wrong though, 1st is still most preferred and it’s seeming achievable

Bye bye Sammy

Ahh I have to turn my phone off and can't find confessional but my confessional is that I hate myself for voting Sammy

I ate dinner, We're doing Sammy. Maybe these people have four brain cells instead of three. I however, still just have the one bumping around in my ear canal saying I might have a chance to win the game which is in fact, the stupidest thought I've had this whole round.

well well well....this round is a BIG OLE MESS, so i went into it last night thinking the vote was gonna be emma because she was leaking to nicole, but then i woke up and i guess the vote is on darcy, but Nicole tried to pull a vote on eve but because emma was involved and very loose lipped I would not have felt comfortable hiding that for almost 5 hours, so i told eve LOL.... but that built my trust up with eve and I thought it would make eve doubt emma even more but instead it seems to have made her want to keep her? which maybe means emma leaked the vote already?? which would be a good thing for me because then i didnt try to hide info that eve already knew, but so then that landed the vote primarily on darcy but honestly if darcy goes home this game is likely in the bag for eve, so I had to come up with something quick ! I have no idea if this is gonna go through but i put all my energy into selling this sarah vote like it was the end all be all move for us to make, when i dont think it is but if sarah can go home then the 5some that im viewing as Sammy/Caeleb/Eve/Jordan/Sarah would be down to 4 meaning theres wiggle room at the final 10 to potentially make a power move on a big player, without them being able to stay 5 solid and threaten rocks. They all seemed kinda hesitant but came around so im nervous, eve also asked for a back up plan which I said could be stoner, but the fact that she asked makes me nervous that shes gonna try to pull a fast one and be like "I think sarah has an idol we need to flip it !!!!!" which would be annoying but i wouldn't put it past eve. This also keeps all my potential numbers in those being nicole and then tommy/darcy emma and stoner, again IF this goes through, i could've lost darcy but then i just a 5v5 or if emma gets bold then a 6v4 and im powerless again. I think this was where i need to make a move and i hope it goes through but if it doesn't at least i tried !!!

I think tonight the night ladies, TONIGHT THE NIGHT I AM RELEASED, i mean if not sarah goes home and its whatever. I love love sarah and feel bad for blindsiding her like this. But I have confidence in Kevins decision here, hes trusted me, I have to trust him now.

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