#//you can use whatever muse you want it doesn’t have to be victor

[angelsofsmalld3ath]

closed starter; @scarletsxnss

lucia laid on the bed under victor as he groped and played with her tits over her shirt. “victor stop.” she whined while pushing at his hands, lucia wasn’t in the mood tonight-like she has a choice-and stupidly she just broke two rules, telling him no, and calling him by his actual name, she didn’t even realize she had done so until it was too late.

plot: x

[queuestarter]

concede

(finnick odair x reader)

cw: none

link to the request → finnick sharing the plans of the rebellion with reader

open to requests !!

“Baby, I have something to tell you.”

You lift your head off of Finnick’s chest, blinking sleepily at him. It’s early still and you didn’t even realize he was awake.

“What?” 

Finnick gently moves you off of his chest and repositions himself so that the two of you are facing each other. He searches your eyes before speaking again. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”

You raise your eyebrows. You’re not too worried about whatever secret he could be keeping. You trust Finnick with everything you have and know he wouldn’t keep anything bad from you.

You don’t say anything, letting him confess on his own terms. 

“After the Quarter Quell was announced and I was still in the Capitol, I met with the new Gamemaker, Pluratch Heavensbee.” He pauses for a minute, gauging your reaction. You just nod to let him know he can keep speaking.

He bites his lip. “You know about all the revolts in Four. They’re happening in almost every other district, too. Heavensbee told me. And he’s part of the rebellion.”

“What?” You’re confused. This is not where you thought this conversation was going.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. He told me all sorts of things, mainly that he wants us to volunteer for the Quell to protect last year’s victors from 12. Katniss is apparently the key to the whole thing.”

“Hold on. You sound crazy right now, Finn. Start from the beginning and explain everything in depth.” You listen carefully as Finnick starts from the beginning- listing everything in order from when he first met Plutarch to how rescuing Katniss is going to ensure you all a place in the supposedly still functioning District 13.

“I know this is a lot but if we do this, we can have a better life. A life away from the Capitol, without all of the people stealing our lives away from us. We can be free,” Finnick preaches, desperately searching your eyes.

You look back at him, unsure. “Finn, I don’t know if I can go back into the games.”

He holds you closer to him. “I’ll protect you. Even if this plan doesn’t turn out the way he promised me it would, I would never let you get hurt.”

“I know that, but what if he’s lying? What if Snow sent him your way to see if you’re a traitor?” You confess your fears, wanting them to be quenched.

“No,” Finnick shakes his head slightly. “He told me too much. He said that there are at least ten other victors already in on the plan. We have a real shot at this, my love. Let’s take it.”

You’re unsure but Finnick’s optimism is making you excited. Of course you want a chance at a real future with him, one where you aren’t scared for each of your well beings every single day.

“Fuck it, I’m in. Let’s do it. Let’s end the Capitol.”

Finnick cheers quietly, kissing you square on the mouth. “Just imagine our life together after all of this. Our own house, babies, all of it.”

“Some peace and quiet,” you muse. “No more Caesar Flickerman interviews every month.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Finnick laughs. “No more stupid outfits or listening to those ridiculous accents. Just me and you.”

“Me and you,” you whisper back.

You still feel scared of the unknown, but you know it’ll be fine with Finnick by your side.

-

[theoddshq]

BENTLEY WYATT (paul mescal fc) the odds are in your favor! Please report to your nearest Capitol Agent to be prepped for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!

ooc

Alias/Age/Pronouns/Timezone: mark, 27, he/him, est

Triggers: [REDACTED]

If you had to describe your muse as a canon Hunger Games character, or mix, who would you compare them to and why? okay this is going to be a wild mix but walk with me here: haymitch (early years, pre-alcoholism) and coral from tbosas. he’s got that dog in him (re: darkness & survivor’s guilt) like haymitch but he still genuinely wants his tributes to succeed!! and his whole drive during the end of his games was very coral’s “i can’t have killed for nothing” or whatever she says, i just watched it yesterday okay. but!!! like he didn’t enjoy it but he was gonna be damned if he didn’t do what he had to

Anything else? the way i have been searching for a hunger games rp for AGES you do not understand

basics

[PAUL MESCAL, CIS MAN, HE/HIM] The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes [BENTLEY WYATT], a [DISTRICT 6 MENTOR]. Word around The Capitol is that they’re [STOIC AND PRACTICAL] but can also be [ANXIOUS AND SELF-SACRIFICING]. According to sources, they’re [29] and were once described as [GREASE-STAINED CLOTHES, WHITE KNUCKLES WRAPPED AROUND A WEAPON, A SMILE THAT DOESN’T REACH YOUR TIRED EYES, COFFEE AT 3AM, HATING YOURSELF FOR HOW MUCH YOU ENJOY CAPITOL FOOD]. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

biography

bentley wyatt — victor of the 67th(?) hunger games. he grew up in a pretty cushy life in d6, his father was the head peacekeeper of their hub and his mother was a teacher. he was well-behaved, helpful around the house, social at school. your typical boy next door, he had a passion for fixing up old vehicles, taking beaten down hovercraft for joyrides, and bending the rules just shy of their breaking point

he was reaped at 22(?), a surprise just as much as anyone else who had never taken tesserae before. but district 6 wasn’t known for raising volunteers, so he strode up to the podium and accepted his fate. he knew he had decent odds — he wasn’t starving, he was athletic, but he hadn’t been training his whole life and he didn’t know how to use a weapon. but he would learn.

his partner minnie was younger, leaner, a great runner with a big mouth. she wanted to go all the way, he only promised to get her through the first night. he ran a decent score in training, made a few allies—more importantly avoided making any enemies. his mentor assured them both that they were going into the games in a good spot. sponsors were interested, neither of them had embarrassed themselves. six had a real shot.

the games happened in a flash. really, it was one of the shorter games than panem had seen in several years, and it was in no small part thanks to bentley. he and minnie came out victorious in the bloodbath, bentley finding a club and battering some tributes with minnie running for food and supplies. they regrouped when the first cannons sounded, eight tributes down already. they paired up with the boy from seven and the girl from three, their partners picked off by careers. bentley had already gotten one of the tributes from two, so he expected the careers to come for him sooner rather than later. the two packs crossed rocky terrain to find each other, and by the sunrise on day three they’d knocked off every tribute that stood between them. less than 48 hours in, they were down to nine tributes. four in bentley’s group, five careers. an arrow took out the girl from three, a felled tree took out two careers. six remaining: two from six, and one each from one, two, four and seven. minnie was next, and bentley killed her attacker before he could even register. their ally from seven had turned on them, and he was bleeding out seconds later. it was bentley against three careers. he ran for the trees, and they gave chase. one of them killed another with a spear, mistaking them for bentley in the shaded woods. three remained. two against one quickly became every man for himself as the two careers feared the other would turn first. bentley didn’t give them a chance. he picked them off one by one, and the hovercraft picked him up with his trusty club still in his grip.

his final body count was eight. one third of the tributes died because of him, directly or not. it took him most of the train ride home to come up with all of their names and how he killed each one, but it’s something he’s never forgotten since. returning home was hard. after the initial celebrity wore off, people looked at him differently. they knew what he was capable of. the victory tour was harder. in almost every district, he was forced to face the families of the tributes he had killed. he didn’t think it could get worse until the next games, when he had to face the other mentors, those who had lost tributes to him, and their tributes, who probably knew those he’d killed. his first games went terribly, and it was only after talking to his mentor that he began to compartmentalize. he needed to train winners, not lambs for slaughter. maybe the 74th games will be his year.

writing sample

[REDACTED]

stats

Deceive - 1 Fight - 3 Lore (knowledge) - 2 Notice - 2 Physique - 3  Provoke - 2 Rapport - 1 Resourcefulness - 2 Stealth - 1 Will - 3

[subsiist]

Continued from here because tumblr sucks ahem @diamondpressed

Cashmere feigns disappointment over not being able to see Katniss, but Peeta just keeps his congenial smile. Or maybe it's not pretend for Cashmere, he's not sure. He just knows it's incredibly dramatic. Then again, he's met a lot of victors tonight (and a handful of choice ones at his wedding) and they're all a bit dramatic in their own ways. Playing the Games still, he guesses. It's what Haymitch had warned them about - they would have to be forever this version of themselves each year at the Capitol.

Peeta hums in almost monotone compliance at her statements. Romantic. Not exactly the word he would've chosen for his and Katniss' love story, considering it began with deception and blood and death, but he can't exactly say that here. He shrugs instead and skirts around agreeing with her outright. "Well," he says, keeping his voice light. "We did know one another before getting reaped, so I wouldn't say it was our first meeting. Definitely the most memorable one, however."

He watches her carefully as she takes a drink of whatever is in the glass, eyes moving subtly around her body to check for anything that might happen because of it. Surely, she wouldn't just throw up right here in the middle of Ceasar Flickerman's den if it was one of those kind of drinks. Nothing seems to happen, though, and he guesses he's probably safe to drink it too. Unless she's drugging him.

Having watched her Games and being a witness to her betrayal of her own district partner, he wouldn't put it past her.

"That's what they always say," he muses easily, another non-agreement to her words about fun. The air shifts when she talks about being young, however. Is this her way of being gentle with him? He's not exactly fond of what he knows about her, but that could just be his general distaste for a lot of the Careers. He'd spent days with own Career-pack, after all - and while he can logically understand they were made to be like that because of the Capitol's control, it doesn't necessarily mean he likes them. Cashmere is no different.

He finally takes a sip of the drink because she seems coherent enough still and hopes it'll suffice in making her not underestimate him. Then again, most people do, so that wouldn't be anything he's not used to navigating.

It's not until she brings up art that Peeta's interest peaks and he focuses in on her more closely. "You're an artist?" he asks. "What do you do?" He doesn't have many people he can talk art with. Twelve has very few pretty things to offer and, here in the Capitol, people just want his stuff because of who he is, not what he's done.

"Still getting used to it," he replies, this question easier because he's being honest. "It's different, having fame like this. But Katniss and I manage it well. As long as we have each other, it'll be okay." Alright, so he has to add the ending for the show. Though, really, that part has a bit of honesty in itself too.

[duskamethyst]

love.

a/n: happy valentines day! have this spicy content for now but if you’re looking for high-cocky bastard-suna, this ain’t it. sorry.

word count: 2.3k

genre: smut, nsfw, fluff

warnings: soft dom, orgasm denial

pairing: pro!suna x f!reader

summary: suna got you a gift for your anniversary. wonder why he likes it so much..

“hm? a bracelet?” you take out the shiny jewelry out from the crimson box, inspecting it in your hands. there’s a letter ‘R’ that gleams with its rhinestones and a bell that chimes as you jiggle it. 

“close,” your boyfriend smiles when he catches the fascinated look on your face. “it’s an anklet.”

suna takes the ornament from you and drops down to his knees to fasten it around your ankle. he takes a good look at it, pondering briefly over how he made a good choice to get it for you as an anniversary gift. 

you look over your ankle intriguingly, shaking it slightly to hear the bell ring in response. 

“it’s so pretty!” you beam excitedly and kiss him in thanks as he raises back up on his feet. “then you have to put on the perfume i gave you too.”

suna raises an eyebrow, “perfume?”

“shit–” your hand flies over to cover your mouth instantly by reflex and you shake your head. “i didn’t say that.”

your boyfriend laughs as he takes the nicely wrapped present and shakes it in a feigned attempt to figure the not-so-mysterious content, “gee, i wonder what it could be.”

“oh, i don’t know. guess you have to find out.” you reply in the same sardonic tone, suppressing giggles as you watch him rip off the paper unceremoniously. 

suna blinks once, twice at the box and glances at you before looking back at the box that is engraved with a name that he’s aware to be high end. he’s not very materialistic but he knows for sure that it costs more than you can afford for yourself and the thought of you forking out so much money on it makes his heart swell. 

“well?” you grin sheepishly as you wait for him to say something. 

“babe, this is..” he sighs, brushing a hand through his brown locks. “how did you even–”

“don’t mind that! put it on!” you chide.

suna shakes his head and chuckles as he opens the packaging to pull out the expensive bottle. he takes off the lid and takes a whiff of the manly scent, yet has no idea what the contents are. he guess he should wear it often if you like the scent so much, especially since you’re the one who chose it for him. he sprays the cologne on his wrist and rubs it with the other before applying it on the back of his ears.

you don’t remember how many bottles it took to find the one that you absolutely would like on him but you know you’ve made the right choice when the aroma has proven to suit his character very well; sexy and alluring.

“you smell so fucking good.” you sigh in content as the scent begins to fill your senses.

“is this your way of saying that i always stink?” he forces an offended frown but the slight upturn at the corner of his lips tells you it's only superficial. 

“yeah, you reek. especially after your practice.” you tease before suna envelops you into a warm hug. 

“but i won’t wear it to practice.” he mutters as he caresses your hair gently. “it’s a waste if the guys are the only ones who are going to smell it.”

“that’s fine. you can always wear it around me.”

suna pulls away to look at you, blankly staring at you with his dark and narrow eyes. “and, you shouldn’t be giving me expensive stuff. i won’t even mind if you didn’t get me anything. you’re more than enough for me.”

“but–” 

“no buts.” he places a small kiss on your lips. “still, thank you for this.”

you smile and counter back with a kiss, “happy anniversary, rin. i love you.”

“i love you, too.” he taps your nose with his finger before picking you up off your feet and cradling you in his arms, making you squeal in surprise. “now that we’re done with that, time to put that to the test.” 

“put what to the test?” you look up at him with curiosity as he carries you towards your shared room, leaving the empty plates of your homemade dinner behind. 

“why do you think i got you something with a bell on it?” he grins slyly before throwing you on the bed and causing the bell around your ankle to chime from the result of the impact. 

warmth creeps up to your cheeks as you put one and one together, “you wouldn’t..” 

“oh, yes i will.” suna climbs on top of you, pale yellow irises swirling like flames as he gazes deeply into your eyes before leaning down to slip his tongue past the barrier of your lips in an amorous kiss. your hands find their way to his nape, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

suna swallows down your moans as he hastily works on taking off all his lower garments and grinds his erection against your sex, soothing the throb that he has been keeping inside his pants the moment he put on the ornament around your ankle since his mind just kept on wandering at the thought of how he has been wanting to put it on to good use. 

he breaks the kiss to plant wet, soft kisses down your throat, suckling and nibbling on the sensitive skin that he knows will have you whining underneath him while his large, calloused hands massages your mounds through the flimsy dress. 

“you’re so pretty,” he whispers against the crook of your neck as tugs down the straps off your shoulders and lets it fall on your arms. “i love you so much.”

with a little maneuvering of your arms, you manage to slip out from the band and allow suna to pull down the dress completely. your nipples harden from the cold air yet they find heat once he wraps his lips around one, tongue dancing and circling around the erected tit while he tweaks the other between his thumb and index finger that sends jolt of sensations down to your bundle of nerves.

your lips part in soft, heavy pants while your fingers seek refuge in his dark hair by tugging it lightly before he pulls away with an audible pop to suck on the other. his hand trails down on your inner thigh, drawing circles with his fingertips on the erogenous zone and purposely avoiding from tracing closer to your heated core. 

“rin.” you whine while the bell resounds from underneath as you part your legs wider and buck your hips reflexively. 

“hmm?” narrow, hooded eyes look up at you mischievously from below. suna unlatches his mouth, watching as the nipple perks up harder and becomes more swollen from his ministrations. “you’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

you feel your cheeks warm up, “i don’t know, why don’t you get down and see for yourself?”

“whatever you say, princess.” he chuckles and shifts downwards until his head is settled in the space between your thighs.

“shit, you’re really a mess down here.” he muses, thumb grazing against the dark patch that has formed on the thin fabric. “all from me just sucking your tits?”

suna tugs the sodden garment down, tongue darting out to sweep his bottom lip as his eyes dissolve into red of passion and lust. it’s more intense than you imagined, but an impassioned loop twists in your stomach as you study his next, calculated step. 

shivers of pleasure rushes throughout your body the moment you feel his warm tongue flattening against your wet slits. with skills and practiced strokes, his tongue laps off your slick greedily before teasing and sucking on the throbbing clit. your toes curl and the bell rings as you attempt to close your legs together, but suna spreads them apart from crushing his head.

his lustful gaze fixes up at you, observing every twitch of pleasure and the way your lips part in soft, needy whimpers. you gasp at the abrupt intrusion of his long and slender fingers, yet you gladly welcome him as the muscles clench to keep him within.

“does it feel good?” he whispers, kissing the soft skin of your fleshy thigh when he notices your legs tremble. 

“s-so good, rin.” you mewl, nails digging into the sheets while the fabric crumples in your fists as you find purchase. his fingers curl and drag against the spongy walls, making you keen in excitement that your hips begin to pump desperately to match his rhythm. 

“you’re so needy.” a sense of pride soars in his chest, conscious of how much your pleasure lies in him and only him. he continues rubbing and digging, somewhat in search of something; certainly the spot that he’s aware that’ll make you beg for him hopelessly. and when he finds it, he doesn’t miss the way you tense up and giving him the drive to stroke the same spot mercilessly. 

“shit– right there!” you look like you’d almost cry. the way your hips are jerking uncontrollably is telling him that you’re going to break soon and before that happens, suna draws away his fingers and you immediately throw a scowl his way. 

“what?” his voice is taunting and he wears a smirk of a victor which makes you all the more frustrated. 

you huff, “so mean. on our anniversary night, too.” 

suna lifts himself off you to get out of his shirt. no matter how much you’ve seen him bare and naked, your eyes always marvel over his toned chest and chiseled abs; those he gained along by being a professional athlete since a couple of years ago. you lick your lips to return moisture on dry skin as you watch him pump his throbbing cock in front of you while he puts on an expression of bold seduction.

“you don’t have to look so scared. you wanted to cum so bad, didn’t you?” he sneers, obviously confident over how thick his cock is and how it can stretch your tiny little hole so good.

you roll your eyes playfully, retorting in a snarky tone, “oh, i’m so scared. please don’t put that thing inside me!”

his lips curl into an amusing smile, finding it endearing how you played along with his pretense. “don’t worry, i’ll treat my princess very gently.” 

suna leans down to lick a fat strip of your essence and mixes with his saliva before propping up on his knees and dragging your body closer to him by the waist. he carefully throws the leg adorned with his gift on his shoulder and kisses on the side of your knee before fixing his dark gaze downwards, where he slowly guides and observes the way his cockhead slowly disappears into your dripping entrance. 

a low grunt rumbles in his chest as the walls suck him in deeper, clamping around him like a vice and refusing to let go as he continues to bury his cock deeper inside your pussy. your eyes flutter close, lips part slightly as you revel the way he stretches you while the veins and ridges brush against your muscles deliciously. 

“so good for me, princess.” he praises with a sharp breath, having you completely filled to the brim before he finally snaps his hips and making your body jolt in return. his pace is unforgiving and with the angle he has set you in, his tip keeps on pounding against your cervix. 

the slapping of your skins fills the cold air, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the erratic chimes from your bell that he was so eager about. an unknowing grin etches on your lover’s lips as every jingle that fills his ear fuels up his ego and he finds himself to pound into you faster while the sounds behind him follow in accordance.

“hah– rin– so deep!” your orgasm is quick to build up from the prior interruption, the muscles in your stomach begins to tighten and your legs quiver. 

“you hear that, baby? the bell telling you how hard i’m fucking you right now.“ he rams his cock senselessly to make the bell jingle wilder in a way to prove his point.

“rin– i–” 

“baby wanna cum?” he coos, smirking down at you as the image of your writhing body ingrains in his mind.

you nod your head affirmatively, face contorting in one that expresses bliss as your mind swirls with excessive gratification. yet your eyes snap open as soon as you feel a sharp sting on your thigh. 

he releases the pliant skin from between his teeth, “use your words, princess.” 

“please–” you let out a broken cry. “wanna cum–” your toes curl with anticipation as you will yourself from coming undone before you are granted to do so.

“that’s– fuck– better.” he grunts, thrusts turning sporadic as you begin to squeeze and clamp down on him. “then cum, baby. you deserve it.”

suna brings up his thumb to your aching bud, generously pressing tight circles in order to push you over the edge and a wave of pleasure washes throughout your body as you moan his name in a chant. your pussy gushes around his cock, which makes it all more stimulating for the male and he pounces harder through your high in pursuit of his own orgasm while the noisy rings from the bell soon becomes white noise.

“that’s it– you feel so fucking good.” he feels his balls tightening before his cock twitches and he bites roughly on your leg as he shoots warm load inside your tight cunt. you squeal from the pain, wiggling your leg away and he completely lets go. 

he chuckles lightly and gently rubs the dents on your skin, “sorry.” 

once he’s sure he has emptied, he pulls out his softening cock and finds his place next to your warm body. you turn to face your lover and he gladly welcomes you into his warm embrace. 

“i love you.” he whispers, pushing aside the damp and matted hair from your face to place a soft kiss on your forehead. 

you hum in content, vision darkening as he continues to play with your hair soothingly while the sound of his heartbeat sings you a lullaby. “i love you, too.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[cheri-translates]

Alone on Christmas

A one-shot dedicated to my Secret Santa partner, @beautiful-mystic-mess​

♡ MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU PRECIOUS GIRL ♡

And major appreciation to @ginkgowritings​ who initiated this wholesome exchange and for feeding us quality Gavin content :>

Mildly suggestive!

[ a week before christmas ]

“How could you do this?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You. Are. The. Worst. Boyfriend. Ever.”

“I know.”

“How could you leave your adorable girlfriend alone on Christmas?”

“Mm, she’s adorable.”

“...”

A zephyr rakes up dried leaves, pulling them into a dance in mid-air. This dazzling display would have left you in awe, if you weren’t currently fuming.

Gavin presses a chaste kiss to your right temple. You huff, a cloud of mist leaving your parted lips.

It’s nearly impossible to stay mad at him.

“I’m going to miss this,” you grumble, voice slightly muffled by the azure scarf you’re sharing with him. 

Giving your laced hands an angry squeeze in the left pocket of his jacket, Gavin halts in his footsteps in the middle of the empty park.

“I’ll only be gone for two weeks, and even though I might not be contactable…” his voice falters when he sees the tears prickling the corners of your eyes, glistening under the glow of streetlights.

Eyes widening, he quickly removes himself from the scarf and stands in front of you, wrapping the wool evenly around your shoulders. Cradling your face, he tilts your chin upwards and gently scoops away the pearly droplets with his calloused thumbs. 

“I really am the worst boyfriend,” he murmurs, slight panic in his eyes.

The last thing you want Gavin to see before he leaves tomorrow is your crying face.

You smack him in the chest, then turn away to rub the heels of your palms roughly against your face. However, it’s a futile effort as the tears return in a continuous, unrelenting supply.

“What if... what if something happens?” You choke, words surfacing in a blubber as you sob messily.

Gavin turns you around to face him, as though he’s inspecting a fragile antique. He draws you into an embrace, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

A light swirl of wind tangles and tosses the scent of mint in your surroundings.

“Nothing will happen. I promise.” he whispers into your hair.

He draws back, flitting his lips across your face, every peck removing the tears, the sadness of his impending departure, and the clouds of uncertainty. 

The ticklish sensation causes you to giggle.

Gavin gazes into your slightly reddened eyes, then brings your right hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your engagement ring.

“I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

--

[ four days before christmas ]

The house is silent, save for the occasional tapping of the keyboard and the almost imperceptible whirring of Sparky Jr. Jr. the Zoombot.

“Maybe Kiro’s Christmas album could turn this gloomy season around,” you muse to yourself, scrolling through your playlist before settling on a bubbly rendition of “All I Want For Christmas Is You” to inject some festive vibes into the room.

Leaning back against your chair, you return your gaze to the document on the laptop screen. You thought burying yourself in work would make the days more bearable. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to have such a desired effect.

Whenever you worked at home, Gavin would drop by the study room and bring you warm drinks, your favourite snacks, and words of encouragement to keep your momentum going.

You stare at the pink, bunny-shaped post-it note stuck to the top right corner of the laptop: I’ll be home soon. You can do this, my girl.

He had stuck it there before he left. But it seems he’s also taken your motivation along with him.

You sigh.

--

[ christmas day ]

The dullness of winter hangs above you as you drag your feet down the familiar street, boots sinking into the soft snow. 

The streets are livelier than usual, with raucous children pressing their ruddy cheeks against the glass windows, cooing over the newest toys.

Aside from you, no one is alone. Seeing everyone accompanied by their partner, friends and family gives you a stark reminder of how the person you wanted to spend Christmas with is currently in an unknown location and in an unknown condition.

Catching sight of your gloomy reflection in a glass window, you hurriedly smoothen the crease in between your brows, perking yourself up. You don’t want to ruin the company’s Christmas party for everyone.

This year, your contribution to the party is in the form of baking Christmas goodies. Not wanting to mess it up, you even sought the advice of Victor beforehand on how to make the perfect chocolate cupcakes. 

Although the goodies turned out slightly different from the images he sent you, you trust that your employees wouldn't dare to complain given that the fate of their monthly salaries rests in your hands. At least, not in your presence.

--

After storing the box of cupcakes in the pantry’s fridge, you head over to the main office. 

“Boss!” Minor greets enthusiastically once you step inside, squatting down next to the Christmas tree standing tall in the corner of the room.

Although the branches are already weighed down with tons of decorations, Minor continues digging through the cardboard box filled with ornaments, seeking to further embellish it.

“We’re almost done,” Kiki says proudly, taking a step back to admire the tree. “All that’s left is for Eli to-"

“Kiki!” Willow interrupts loudly. “I think we need more fairy lights.”

“Eli?” You repeat, utterly confused. “Wh-”

“Anyway,” Anna pipes up, handing you a Santa hat so you can match with the rest of them. “Since you’ve been such a wonderful boss, we thought we should give you something you’re sure to love.”

“Yes, make a guess!” Minor chimes in, standing up and clasping his hands together excitedly. “We’ll give you three tries.”

A thud from the file cabinet draws everybody’s attention. The door swings open, revealing none other than a familiar figure curled up in a foetal position at the bottom shelf.

But how is this possible? 

A ghost? 

Did you finally go insane after plowing through all those proposals for Victor over the past few days?

“Bro Gavin! You were supposed to wait for our signal!” Minor huffs in mild irritation.

“...it’s really cramped.”

You watch, frozen in position, as he struggles to extricate himself from the clutches of the cabinet. 

Straightening up and patting some dust off his hands, his face breaks out into a handsome, slightly sheepish smile as he mouths your name. 

“Gavin!” You lunge at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He responds instinctively by pressing you closer to himself, and you can feel the rumbling of his chest as he chuckles softly.

Ignoring the flush on your cheeks when you hear whistles from around you, you draw back, staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

Then, you fire a series of questions at Officer Gavin:

“Are you real?”

“Yes.”

“When did you get back?”

“This morning. The mission ended earlier than expected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted to give you a surprise.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Nope...?”

“Gavin helped with the decorations.” Kiki pipes up excitedly, pointing at the unevenly cut paper snowflake garlands strung on the walls.

Catching the hesitance in Gavin’s response and Kiki’s input, you lift his hands up. As expected, you notice the razor-thin paper cuts donning his fingers. 

You bring them to your lips, blowing on them. “My Gavin is a poor liar as always.”

“And I thought their posts on Moments were bad enough...” Minor gripes good-naturedly, gesturing for everyone to leave the room. “We’ll go decorate the pantry now~”

Knowing glances are exchanged among the group as they flee from the scene, giving the two of you some privacy.

All the heaviness in your heart from the days before seem to melt away as you stand on your tiptoes, kissing him with all the fiery passion you have in your being. You can feel him laughing against your lips.

“It’s only been seven days,” he breathes in between kisses. You feel like crying with joy, but only laughter bubbles from your throat. Breathless and blissful laughter.

“Seven days is too long,” You respond, planting kisses on whatever skin you can reach on his handsome face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he echoes. He pulls your face away from his just so he can simply look at you, his liquid pools of amber drinking you in.

The door slams open with a thud.

“Did anyone miss me?” Eli bellows, strolling into the room with a tower of presents.

-

The party commences soon after that. Gifts are exchanged (Minor knitted Thorny a mini Santa hat), glasses are clinked, and separate conversations take place.

While it’s nice to be a part of the liveliness, you feel pretty overwhelmed and drained soon after. Offering to bring the cupcakes out, you politely excuse yourself from the intense discussion with the girls on which was the worst Christmas movie on Netflix this year.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Gavin is currently engaged in a conversation with Minor (though it looks more like a one-sided effort on the latter’s part). You decide not to disturb their moment of bonding, and head out by yourself.

-

Taking small sips from a glass of water, you fiddle mindlessly with the round magnets on the refrigerator, relishing this short breather. 

Once you feel sufficiently rested, you pull the fridge doors open, retrieving the familiar box.

“Are you okay?”

The sudden voice causes you to jolt, and you almost drop your precious cupcakes.

"Mm, I’m fine. Just bringing the desserts out," you tell Gavin with a shrug.

"That can wait," he says simply. One large hand glides between yours and the tray, snatching it away, and sliding it onto the counter next to you. “I said I’d make it up to you when I got back.”

Now that the obstruction is out of the way, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours. You giggle, hands moving up to lace through his hair as you try to bring him closer than he already is. 

He crushes you tightly against his body, easily lifting your feet off the ground and seating you atop the counter. There isn’t even enough room for air to fit between the both of you.

His teeth travel upwards, grazing the soft lobe of your ear, making you shiver deliciously.

“Gavin, not... not now,” you’re trying very hard to keep your volume down. 

“Hm?” His warm breath tickles your skin. Caressing your cheek, he peppers feathery kisses down your jawline, ending with gentle licks and nibbles on your neck. “Why not?”

What happened to the boy who used to blush at the mere thought of talking to you?

“We’re in the office,” you respond lamely, attempting to pry him away without using any strength whatsoever. Your body betrays you, and you feel your grip around his neck tightening so he couldn’t go anywhere even if he tried.

Someone in the doorway clears their throat.

As though you got scalded, you release your hold on him and hop off the counter.

You lift your head to see a teasing Eli, his brows arched in bemusement as he splays his fingers over his eyes. "Please refrain from using the office furniture inappropriately.”

While you smoothen your slightly rumpled clothes and, Eli stuffs a Santa hat into Gavin’s hand. 

“Here,” Eli says, injecting faux urgency into his voice. “Wear this.”

“No.”

Already expecting Gavin to refuse from the get-go, Eli waggles his brows.

“If you wear it, maybe you could...” His voice dips into an audible whisper. “Slide into her chimney tonight.”

Gavin coughs, dealing a painful blow to Eli’s torso. “Get out.”

“Ah, my spleen.” Eli winces exaggeratedly, grabbing the box of goodies off the counter. “I’ll keep the others occupied. Please lock the door next time. You’re welcome.”

With a wink, he makes his way back to the meeting room, shutting the door with a click.

Pretending that you didn’t hear Eli’s comment, you meet Gavin’s gaze once again. After staring each other for a few seconds, the two of you burst into embarrassed laughter.

He takes you into his arms with a contented sigh, nuzzling his chin against the top of your head.

"Merry Christmas. I’m happy to be home.”

-

ENDING THIS WITH ANOTHER POOR EDIT:

[lovelivingmydreams]

What is a happy ending?

So someone (looks sternly at @rondoel) thought giving me insight in a certain OC of theirs and making me feel things is an okay thing to do. That I won't proceed to write a heartbreaking epilogue to my two part Virgil king story. This one not as long. But still. Enjoy:

What is a happy ending?

"Why happily ever after?" King wondered aloud as He studied their latest piece of art.

No one had ever answered that question for Him. Not in a meaningful way at least. And it never truly stopped bothering Him.

"Your majesty?" Anxiety asked carefully. Probably not sure if he had been meant to hear. King wasn't so sure Himself.

Oh well. He might as well finish the thought. Something interesting might come from it.

"Happily ever after. It's so... boring. Why does everyone like it so much?" He had wondered so often...

Anxiety shrugged. "Princey loved that crap. He hated it when I called out the flaws, though he could be just as bad with plot holes.

It's not realistic at all and... well boring is one word for it." His tone and face could almost be mistaken for dismissive, but King could swear He spotted fondness in the upturn of Anxiety's mouth and a slight wistfulness in the shine of his eyes.

King however was more interested in this more nuanced perspective on the story trope. Answers at last?

Anxiety noticed his king desired for him to elaborate and immediately started fidgeting as he tried to find the words to express his thoughts sufficiently.

"I suppose... everyone thinks that's what they want?" His nerves turn the sentence into a question. "When they are little it's an easy goal. You find the one who'll make you whole, or defeat the villain, or both. And then nothing ever bothers you again.

It's not how life works though... and growing up... I think everyone still has a part of them that wants to hold on to things being that... simple..." Anxiety trailed off and looked up at king curiously. His face strangely focused as if he was looking for an answer himself.

"Simple?" King urged wanting to hear more. Anxiety was so close to making sense. So close to bringing about that wonderful feeling when curiosity was sated. A story complete at last.

"Um... yeah... I mean even I feel a little... I don’t know... it feels right?

When you do the right thing, even when it's hard and you get the stuff you want anyway. And when people who hurt you don’t win. You want the world to work like that. If not for you then at least for the servant girl, who just wanted a night off, or the waitress who just wanted to buy her father's dream restaurant. Hard work, kindness, patience... they should be rewarded right?" Anxiety explained. Sounding frustrated. "And..." he let out a resigned sigh before straightening up and continued more decidedly. "Since the world doesn't work that way... why not escape somewhere where it does?" It was passionate. Perhaps in defense of Roman's favorite thing in the world. Then that fight and righteous defiance fell away in favor of a nostalgic fondness. "Thomas did it all the time growing up," Anxiety sighed before returning his attention to the painting that had prompted the question. A Father's Day movie night.

Hugs and snacks and movies with happily ever afters galore. All of Morality's favorite things.

King had to admit it had... stung to discover that Morality had taken up the role He'd given him even after he betrayed everything that title stood for.

Had he ever felt even the slightest bit conflicted when hearing Roman calling him 'Padre'?

Or was it supposed to be fine, since he thought Roman was the only half of Him who felt attached to him that way?

Had it truly never occurred to him that while he took in the confused Roman, he left behind a disoriented and heartbroken Remus who didn't understand why daddy was ignoring him.

What had he done wrong?

Why did he never get bedtime stories or hugs from dad? Why was he shoved away, scolded, ignored?

Why was he not allowed to play in the imagination with his brother?

The last thought had plagued both halves for years.

Even Roman who had stopped admitting to it to please Morality felt conflicted during story times and hugs to this day.

Telling Thomas that he didn't want anything to do with his brother had hurt more than the bump on his head...

But all of that was in the past. They were gone and their unresolved issues were a waste of His time. He had berated, tormented, Anxiety over this. He would not fall victim to such sentimentalities Himself.

"I see... escapism then?" He muttered, trying to get back on topic and not to show the... somewhat emotional turn His thoughts had taken.

Like His halves, His 'Padre' was gone. He probably never existed in the first place.

And Morality would pay for that betrayal and the way he abandoned Remus and how he made Roman fight to earn his love, only to abandon him as well. His suffering had only just begun.

Not because it still mattered. But... any excuse to justify and fuel His wrath even a little bit more was good enough for Him.

He'd probably avenge slights against his minister simply to feign kinship and watch the traitors squirm under his rule just a bit more. Not that he needed a reason to do anything. But justified rage was so much more satisfying to set loose. Because the targets would feel, deep down, they brought this upon themselves.

"Yeah... there's enough crappy stuff going on in the world right? Thomas... wants to use his talents to make people smile. And while that's cheesy, it's also... well it's him," Anxiety shrugged. King hummed in agreement as He framed the picture and put it away. He'd barely paid attention honestly. The answer was satisfactory. But there was a new question on His mind. As He mused over His minister's attachments to His enemies and how to sever them He recalled something intriguing about his recent behavior.

Anxiety had been pulling away from Morality. Why? What had caused a crack in 'the bestest most dynamicest duoest duo'?

And was this something he could use to forge an allegiance. Or to hurt Morality as deeply as He'd been hurt. Or, ideally, both?

King smirked to Himself as He laid a gentle hand on Anxiety's shoulder. He asked about a drawing of the young side and Thomas. He was pleased to note that His minister no longer shrank away every time He moved in his general direction. He might not be comfortable with His touch yet, but he was getting used to it. Something that would surely get to the others who still tiptoed around Anxiety's boundaries.

Maybe, at some point, he could be made to truly see things His way. To see the traitors for the villains they were. Just the thought of the chaos that this realization would unleash... It would be magnificent.

Morality had forgotten something important about 'happily ever after's.

Bad guys don’t get them. And the victor is always the hero.

It was only right that King reminded him of the shadow side of his favourite ending.

By making him live it.

Virgil knew that it was a bad thing that he found himself enjoying talking about his memories to the king and watching them turn into pretty cool paintings.

He was Anxiety, this was definitely a crisis. He can't relax now, not around the reason of said crisis... but if he doesn't relax a little his thoughts might do something really bad. And if he doesn't do whatever the king wants, then the king might do something bad.

So he had to balance on this weird edge of anxious, but cool with it.

The others were counting on him. To stay safe, to keep it together, to keep King distracted, to find a way to get him to lay off a little...

"Worthless." And... the thing is back.

"Dude, seriously, not now!" He snapped at his... shadow.

King just looked on intrigued. Great. Now the shadow had King's attention.

"Failure," it hissed. Right... King is not his biggest problem right now.

So far the shadow had only been mildly annoying even quiet for the most part. But clearly anxious thoughts made it remember it could be a pain in the behind. And worst thing is it got to Virgil even more because it laid out his true fears for King to see and use against him.

"You... you are just... you're just a thought. You can't hurt me." Virgil insisted.

Thomas could deal with his irrational fits. Surely he could manage this thing, right?

"Monsssster," the shadow hissed. No he didn't think that anymore!

"Guardian!" Virgil bit back. Patton said so, Logan said so, Roman said so, Thomas said so... why cant he just believe them?

He found himself struggling to breath again. The thoughts... they were real now... what if they could hurt him...? Can he die? What would happen to Thomas?

"Begone!" Virgil snapped out of his near attack at the sudden outburst from King.

What...?

He looked up just in time to see a flash of metal and shadow's dissolving figure.

"It'll reform later," King muttered as he sheeted his sword.

"It became too bothersome. You should not let your creations have power over you young one. You are their master, don't forget that," he instructed calmly, not looking at him.

Did he just...?

"Return to your business now, I find that I am in need of a break," he then declared as he walked away, still not looking back.

"But..." he came to a halt. "Should you wish to finish our gallery... I might be willing to indulge your presence later."

Virgil didn't quiet know what to do, so he bowed, just in case the king could see it somehow. "Y-yes my king. Thank you," he stammered hurriedly.

When he looked up, the king was gone.

And Virgil ran. He needed to find Lo and Pat before the shadows returned.

His thoughts were a confused mess... he hadn't imagined that right?

King had really stepped in to save him instead of letting Virgil's punishment, gift, curse, whatever run its course...

And then he left it up to Virgil to decide if and when they'd finish up.

There was probably some messed up reason behind it... but still.

Virgil wasn't stupid though. Even if saving him had been a purely noble impulse, King hadn't undone his 'gift' to make sure it wouldn't happen again. Telling him to put his foot down with 'his own creations' didn't really count.

King still messed up real bad and would have to do something pretty impressive to make up for all of that.

And Virgil was pretty sure that it wasn't just his pessimism talking when he thought that the king was no where close to wanting to make nice with any of them.

Or not for the right reasons anyway.

He shook his head. He can worry about all that later. Right now he has to find the others. Before King runs into one of them.

Virgil's trip down memory lane might've been deemed 'entertaining' or whatever, but he hadn't be around for whatever had happened to make the king be out for blood in the first place.

He didn't want to find out what King's idea of 'having fun' was when it came to Pat, Lo or even Janus. Whatever they did, it was still his duty to protect Thomas. Physically, socially, mentally and emotionally. Whether he wanted him to or not.

And not even King was going to stop him from fulfilling his purpose.

@antiredhuman you wanted to be tagged if I wrote more for this au so here you go! Hope you like it!

[sombreboy]

Mused obsession (3)

Written by @sombreboy​​ as Jungkook & @chimoona​​​​ as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog​​​​

[ masterlist ]

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 6k ⇢Ch.warnings: profanity, so much drunken sexual tension, Jimin has a praise kink what's new, masturbation(both), blowjob, cum on Jimin's pretty face, cum on the floor, cum eating, just a bunch of cum, Luxe sheets with a thread count over 500.

Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.

How the tables had turned. Just yesterday Jimin was teasing Jungkook with a graze to the thigh, leaning so close he could hear his heart beat in his ears. "No questions asked...right?” “N-no questions,” Jimin confirms, not wholly nervous but aching with anticipation. H is wine-stained lips purse naturally as he tries to relax his tense muscles. The buildup is torture, but he has a feeling Jungkook will make it well worth the wait.

Jungkook squeezes the blondes thigh a little harder, internally cursing at how firm it is in his grasp. His eyes roam down Jimin’s features for a moment, as if giving himself time to think.

What does he want? After a moment that felt like forever, but in reality was merely a minute, Kook’s lips finally part as he mumbles out his slurry words. “Let me take pictures of you." It sounds harmless, but what Jungkook has in mind was far from innocent.

Jimin’s eyebrow quirks at the request. “What...kind of pictures?” He asks, but quickly clasps his hands over his mouth, breaking the one rule he himself set for the bet. “I mean…uh…” He tries to recoup regardless of his slip. He can’t help his curiosity. He wasn’t expecting a request so formal yet intimate. A personal photoshoot, in the private mansion of Jeon Jungkook of GJK industries? Surely this offer has never been extended to anyone else beside himself, and the thought alone makes him feel drunker by the second. “Lead the way,” Jimin confirms with false confidence.

Jungkook breathes out a chuckle through his nose, lifting a finger to wiggle it in front of Jimin’s nose. “No questions.” Slowly, his finger inches closer to drag the pad of it down the blonde’s nose bridge until it playfully pokes the button tip. “Come,” he slurs out, dangerously close to having a double meaning. Jungkook stands to his feet, wobbling slightly as he extends his arm to Jimin with tattoos on clear display as he does so. “I ne-eed you…” The younger pauses to take a breath, gathering himself—the floaty feeling mostly foreign to him, not used to drinking often after all, “...In my studio,” he clarifies.

With Jungkook’s help, Jimin stands to his feet, wobbling to hold his balance. He grips onto the tattooed arm and glides his fingertips over the needle-poked skin, memorizing the patterns like braille. He must look like a drunken idiot but he doesn’t care. He’s far past caring and it's greatly due to the fine wine and sexual tension that, at this point, he would need to cut with a jackhammer. “You have me,” he slurs. It’s supposed to be a question, confirming that the tall man had a firm grasp on him while they shuffle to the studio, but it’s laden with double-meaning. He leaves it at that, pleased to have the younger interpret it in any way he pleases.

Jungkook’s firm grasp doesn’t falter as he guides the elder to his personal studio. It’s a large room with no windows to disturb the artificial light fixtures, placed neatly around the place. His eyes glance over stacks of printed photographs on his desk, scattered out as he was rummaging through them this morning. They’re from last night’s shoot. Every single photo, different variations of Jimin—his new favorite subject. His eyes flicker over to the framed photos on the wall by the desk, filled with his personal favorite shots of the blonde. From a candid closeup of him being surprised as he walked into the glass-mirrored room, to the shot of him dropped to his knees, skin glistening with sweat from swinging the sledgehammer.

It’s pure art. Jimin is pure art. Now, Jungkook has this gorgeous man to himself, ready to do whatever he asks for. He snaps out of his thoughts as he looks over at Jimin, wondering if he notices the photos on the walls too.

But to Jimin, all he sees is a man dedicated to his work. It strikes him differently to see the photos printed in a large format. His drunken self doesn’t even process the fact that he was the only subject matter displayed on Jungkook’s studio walls. His wide eyes transfix on the fine details of each photo as he follows them down the line. It’s proof, Jeon Jungkook is the most dedicated photographer he’s ever had the pleasure of working with. “Which is your favorite?” Jimin asks, mentally taking note to possibly replicate the same expression in their impromptu shoot. He really wants to make the moment perfect.

Jungkook hums in thought as he’s barely paying attention to the photos on the walls. Instead, his attention is tunnel-visioned on the blonde, right next to him, in the flesh. “I think tonight...will be my favorite,” he murmurs, letting go of Jimin to head over towards the spot he just knows he needs to see Jimin pose, grabbing his camera along the way. The set looks as if it was prepared in advance. A large, furry white rug is placed on the floor at the center, surrounded by copious amounts of space. Some lights are placed around it, almost like there had been a shoot there before...which wasn’t the case, technically . It was prepared with Jimin in mind, but never did Jungkook believe he’d actually have him here... this quickly. “Stand on the rug,” Jungkook instructs. His voice is clearer now, even if he’s still in a haze. He beckons the model with his slender, tattooed fingers.

Jimin does as instructed, falling into the rhythm the younger set the past couple of days during their promo shoot. He’s almost positive he knows the next step, itching to shuck off his jacket and bend to his knees, but he’s patient and waits for instruction. Jungkook’s towering, lean body makes him feel smaller than he is. He’s ready to submit—to be a good boy for the victor.

The photographer steps closer to Jimin to inspect him further, as if he doesn’t already have every single detail of the elders face ingrained in his memory. Either way, reaches out to brush the blonde fringe away from his face. “No questions, okay?” He reminds, as if he needs to give another confirmation of this before he continues. He knows that as soon as he starts, he won’t be able to stop. Then he backs a few steps before he sits down on a stool with his camera held high, turning it on with a flick. He peeks through the screen, the small wall of technology serving as a detachment from reality, only spurring his own fantasies to grow. “Undress... slowly .”

The model knew it was coming. How could he not? But the moment those words slip from the younger’s sweet cherry lips, his mind numbs. He’s working solely on instinct and pure lust-driven adrenaline. He could feel the tension engulfing his entire being from the moment he first touched Jungkook; feeling fire ignite his skin to burn . There’s not a moment of hesitance as Jimin slowly begins to slide his jacket off his arms, looking down bashfully at his body, pretending he doesn’t realize the effect it has on anyone who looks. He’s a professional after all.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around his camera at the tortuous show Jimin puts on, or rather...takes off. With eyes trained on the elder through the camera, he zooms into the parts he loves the most; his lips, his neck… However, soon, he’s sure the entirety of the blonde will be his favorite part. “Shirt too.” His voice is low and smooth. “Then turn around, let me see your back.”

Jimin trips over his own feet as he turns around, which would have been embarrassing at any regular modelling event, however, he lightly laughs—so airy and innocent. He turns around so the photographer can get a good look as he very slowly lifts his shirt over his head and casts it to the floor. He leaves his Chanel necklace on as he loves the way the thin material dances along his neckline, teasing the lens with faint flashes of light off the diamonds that lay there. He begins to unbuckle his pants and looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s being watched, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Are you enjoying yourself, Jeon?” Shit —he asked another question. He really can’t help his praise kink, wondering what’s going though Jungkook’s mind as he slowly slides the pants down past his strong thighs.

The shutter of the camera going off echoes in the quiet room—the only other noises heard would be their voices and Jungkook’s breathing as it gradually grows heavier. It’s as if he’s in a trance, time and surroundings long forgotten. Everything is about Jimin and his gorgeous body slowly coming into view. A low groan catches in Jungkook’s throat at the sight of the blonde’s muscular back, wasting no time in capturing the moment on video as his focus lowers down to Jimin’s behind. “Fuck, Jimin...you’re breathtaking.” He breathes out the words in a low groan, shifting in his seat as the aching in his pants becomes less easy to ignore. Eyes are completely lost in the way Jimin’s ass looks slightly bent over while peeling the pants down his thighs.

Jungkook’s compliment fuels Jimin to move faster, but he reels in his desire, taking his time with the final articles of clothing. First, he bends deeper to untie his shoes, leaving his briefs for the final reveal. He takes one shoe off, followed by the other, then places them gently by his discarded shirt. Pants slide down completely and are kicked to the side. He turns around to face Jungkook, not realizing the flash from his camera stopped and that he was being recorded. …Not that he would mind much, he likes to be admired in any form, especially by the younger man. Jimin’s hand slowly traces down his chest and taut abs, over his clothed cock, which is now beginning to strain uncomfortably against the fabric. He glides his hand over his length torturously slow, relaxing his face, closing his eyes—completely lost in the moment.

The red light flashing on the photographer’s camera indicates that he’s still shamelessly recording—the content is nothing but the most valuable thing he will ever own. ...Except for the man himself.

“You’re driving me crazy , Jimin…” Jungkook hisses through his teeth, now holding the camera with one hand as the other unbuttons his shirt, growing hot. “You’re doing so well,” he praises and he becomes impatient with the buttons, opting to simply rip the shirt open. Buttons scatter on the floor around him, exposing the middle of his torso as he lets the shirt hang from his shoulders. Never once do his eyes leave Jimin as the camera pans out to get the full view of the blonde touching himself—every expression saved into a digital memory for him to keep.

Throwing caution to the wind, Jimin strokes deliberately, snaking his hand underneath the waistband to wrap around his shaft. “F-feels good…” he whines. He opens his eyes and stares hungrily at the sight before him—Jungkook, camera in-hand, looking a hot mess with his shirt torn open. He no longer cares about breaking rules. They’ve broken one too many rules in their partnership already, what’s another? “Want to see?” He asks, slowly peeling the fabric lower with his other hand.

 Jungkook peeks over his camera, eyes blown wide with need. The slow tease is tortuous, but he absolutely loves it. “Yes, take it off.” His eyes flicker between Jimin’s, roaming down his body until it lands on where the elders hand is hiding. Kook licks his lips in anticipation as his free hand now palms his own aching bulge, camera still held high to capture every single second of the scene in front of him. “Hurry.”

Jimin tugs the waistband low, gripping his hard cock in his hand, silver rings gliding over the sensitive skin. The briefs fall to the floor and are carelessly kicked off. It’s entrancing to see how eager Jungkook is for him, boosting Jimin’s confidence as he quickens his pace, using the dewey beads of precum to ease the glide. It wasn’t a mistake Jimin requested red wine—the rich liquid always makes him shameless and bold enough to do things he wouldn’t normally. He moans aloud, just for the photographer.

Jungkook’s bottom lip is clamped between his teeth with heavy breaths forcing their way through his nose. His chest heaves up and down slowly. The sounds coming from Jimin are sinful, and it drives the younger man closer towards madness.

How long could he go without craving his touch? The answer is simple. Not long at all.

“Baby....” The pet name naturally slips through Kook's teeth as his tattooed hand squeezes the prominent outline of his length, drawing out a low moan of his own. “Come here,” he nudges with his chin towards the open space on the floor between his manspread, eyes burning with need for the blonde.

No questions asked, right?

Never one to argue with the creative flow of a visionary, Jimin dutifully sits on his knees, resting his smaller frame between Jungkook’s parted thighs. He leans forward and presses his pout against the hardworking tattooed hand, flicking his tongue out to trace circles along the ink. “Yes, sir,” he muffles, lapping hot open-mouthed kisses down the hand until he snakes a finger between his thick lips. He wants Jungkook to know exactly what he can have—no questions asked.

A series of breathy curses slip through Jungkook’s lips as he stares down at Jimin, aiming his camera for a good closeup of the man’s lips, eyes sparkling with mischief. He leans back just a bit to get a better view, replacing the finger teasing between Jimin’s lips with his thumb and resting the rest of the fingers underneath his chin. “Your lips are so pretty,” he praises, swiping the pad of his thumb across Jimin’s upper lip—the pout being one of his favorite features.

“Thank you, sir,” Jimin whispers before sliding the thumb into his mouth, curling his tongue around it. He wets the digit well and pulls back, releasing it with a pop. He stares up at the man with wide lustful eyes, looking directly into the camera lens. “Please…,” he pauses, nipping his lip, “Please let me suck your cock, sir. I want to taste you.”

Jungkook feels like his breath is constantly forced out of his lungs everytime Jimin opens his mouth...he’s that fucking entranced by the man. Whatever he did to end up in this very moment, he’s grateful. The grip around his camera is tightening, internally swearing that if he were to squeeze it any tighter, it would threaten to burst in his hand. He slightly shakes at the tension built up in his body. “Go on, then. Take it out.” His lips curled up in a small smile, withdrawing his hand to let it settle on his thigh as he waits for the blonde to get to work. “It’s all yours.”

Jimin nearly drools at the sight before him, ignoring the ache in his own lap for Jungkook’s permission to touch. Now fully hard, every inch of the younger man is visible through the thin fabric of his underwear. The model firmly digs his shaking fingers under Jungkook’s waistband at both sides and tugs down until the length springs free, standing tall against his abdomen. There really are no words Jimin can use to articulate his excitement, so he shows it with his hands and skillful mouth. He delicately wraps his hand around Jungkook’s fat cock and strokes him just as he would himself, working him up and down gradually. He flattens his tongue against the underside and draws it up painfully slow, holding his eyes on the lens the whole time. Old habits die hard—he can’t help but be a bit of a tease even when he suffers just as much.

“Ah, fuck…” Jungkook’s thigh muscles tense. Automatically, his body reacts with greed before he’s able to control his impulses, hips twitching upwards to chase for friction. “Don’t tease,” he says with a stern tone, letting his free hand tangle in Jimin’s blonde curls. He tugs lightly to bring him closer towards his length, hoping to draw out some whines in the process.

“Mm…Y-yes, sir,” Jimin breathes, wrapping his lips around Jungkook’s large reddened tip. The sting in his roots from the younger’s grip tingles throughout his entire body. To be controlled by this man in a professional setting is exhilarating all on it’s own, but in this context…it feels electrifying . He wants to worship this man on his knees for all eternity, fighting to swallow around his punishing length.

‘yes, sir’ —the two words Jungkook never knew he wanted to continuously hear tumble from Jimin’s lips over and over until now. It makes him feel powerful, and he is... He’s one of the most powerful men in the industry, and he can have anything he wants by the simple wave of his hand, but this ... It beats every piece of wealth he could ever possess. His control over the man who had willingly dropped to his knees to please...now that was priceless. “What a good boy..” Jungkook purrs, inching the camera lens closer to Jimin’s face. The focus for this shot will be the way his length sinks deeper into the elders mouth at the photographer’s demand, in the form of a hand pushing the back of his neck. “‘Let’s see how much you can take.”

Jimin glows under the praise. He feels even needier by the sounds he was drawing from above, driven to make Jungkook fill his large house with only the sounds of pleasure he was administering. He braces himself clumsily on Jungkook’s inner thigh for leverage as his mouth begins to get fucked into. On queue, Jimin hallows his cheeks for a tight suction as he quickens his pace, making the younger grip his hair even harder, guiding his head exactly where he wants it.

Beads of sweat start to form on Jungkook’s temples, trickling down as he’s practically taking control; the grip on the blonde’s curls tighten further. “So good…” Jungkook drops the camera to the floor with a loud thud, with no regard to whether it would break or not. He wants to indulge in the reality of the situation, letting both his hands control Jimin’s head as hips fuck his cock down his throat. Jungkook throws his head back, lips parting in heavy breaths and moans that constantly slip through them. With every groan, the adam's apple underneath his clammy skin bobs. “Shit, you’re everything …”

Jimin focuses on shallow breaths, uncontrollably swallowing around Jungkook’s cock as it slides past his gag reflex. Without the camera to perform to, Jimin’s glazed eyes stare up, directly at Jungkook. Just seeing his sweat-dampened skin, his parted lips, and hearing the erotic sounds that escape them is enough to let Jimin know just how close he’s getting. Jimin fumbles to wrap his hand around his own length, struggling to resist any longer.

Indulging in the moment for as long as humanly possible, Jungkook continuously thrusts into Jimin’s mouth until he feels the familiar heat pooling in his lower abdomen. The muscles in his thighs tense up with every slick stroke against the blonde’s tongue. “I’m g-gonna cum soon…” He stutters out his breathy words, head bending forward to get a good look of Jimin desperately trying to please him. The grip in the model’s hair loosens slightly to let him work on his own length. “Keep going,’’ Jungkook says as he reaches for the fallen camera on the floor. Video is still recording as he guides the lens back to focus on Jimin’s pouty lips and glazed eyes. “A little more… Use your hands, wanna cum on your face…”

Those last words make Jimin jump in his skin, swirling his tongue around Jungkook sloppily with wet smacks and stroking himself faster in tandem. It has to be perfect—every fibre of his being sings to please the young photographer and give the performance of a lifetime. His own skin beads with sweat as he works himself up to finish, even harder at the promise of feeling Jungkook’s hot cum on his face.

The crease between Jungkook’s eyebrows become more and more prominent with every passing second, watching Jimin through his camera lens once again, feeding his obsession further. His hips start to tense and jut upwards for even more friction. “Wait, wait, f-fuck, I’m gonna cum,” He hisses out, not giving Jimin much time to make a show out of it. Instead the younger presses his hand against Jimin’s neck to force him further down on his knees, allowing his cock to pop out of his mouth. He quickly grabs a hold of his length and strokes himself right in front of Jimin’s face, letting the tip graze the soft, damp pout. A loud, drawn out moan follows the moment Jungkook cums. His hand shakily records his next piece of art; Jimin’s face covered in himself.

The model closes his eyes as he feels the first pat of cum hit his lips. Out of instinct, his tongue darts out to lick it away; salt and musk coating his taste buds. More spurts tap his face and gleam under the studio lights, making the beauty even more picturesque, painted just for Jungkook. “Mm…thank you,” he breathes, voice breaking into a whimper. He opens his eyes, face shining in the younger’s release, wanting to give him the best shot possible. However, Jimin never stops touching himself and begins to break. “F-fuck—“ A strangled moan catches in his tender throat as his hand continues to work steadily. He looks up at Jungkook with stars in his eyes and damp lips parted, begging for his own release. “ Please , sir…wanna cum too.” He edges himself, barely touching his hard cock until he receives permission from the victor. “…m-may I, please?”

Jungkook quickly gathers himself, sobered from his release, which only made this so much better. He’s able to properly focus on the man, on his knees beneath him. He gently gives his own length a slow stroke, quietly exhaling from the oversensitivity. “You may, you’ve been nothing but a good boy,” he coos, suddenly standing from his seat and pulling his pants back up. He pushes the stool aside before dropping to his knees in front of Jimin, getting a perfect view of the wrecked mess—a blonde angel. “Cum on the floor,” he instructs, focusing the camera lens on the way Jimin’s face distorts with pleasure.

Jimin nods dutifully and bites his lip in response to the praise. He relinquishes all power to the younger man; drunk and so incredibly weak from pent-up lust. With Jungkook’s permission and explicit instructions, Jimin leans forward and braces his palm on the floor while the other picks up the pace. He barely has to touch himself, he’s already so close to breaking. A string of curses escape his throat as he doubles over and breathes heavily, moaning aloud and stroking himself until he shakes. “C-cumming… fuck ..” His muscles spasm and contract—cum pooling on the floor beneath him. He sits back on his heels and looks up at Jungkook, exhausted and damp with sweat, cock twitching in his palm.

“ Wow …” Jungkook stares in awe, the same way he’d look at Jimin during their photoshoots. It doesn’t matter what state the blonde is in; he could be put together and styled to perfection, or a fucked out, sweaty mess beneath him with a face glistening in cum. It doesn’t fucking matter. He’s perfection .  “You’re incredible…” the photographer breathes out as he pans the zoom, getting a full image of the scene on his recording. Jungkook reaches out to swipe his thumb across the elders cheek and gathers some of his cum before bringing it to Jimin’s lips, urging him to lick his finger clean. “Look at the mess you’ve made on my floor…” he says coyly, as if he wasn’t the one who instructed Jimin to do so, “Clean it up, will you? With your tongue.”

Jimin’s dextrous tongue snakes around Jungkook’s thumb, sucking it into his mouth sweetly before releasing it, completely cleaned of the sticky mess. The next request was past a boundary Jimin hadn’t pushed, but felt so eager to cross. He had a hunch the younger man was kinky behind closed doors, but he didn’t expect his mind to be pure filth. He loves discovering more about him. “Yes, Sir,” he nods again and levels himself to the floor on hands and knees, bent over like an obedient dog. He laps a rope of his own release onto his flattened tongue, pulling it up to allow Jungkook to record it going into his mouth, slowly, closing his eyes. Moans and wet laps fill the silence until the floor is sparkling clean, without a trace of his warm cum. He wonders what else he has yet to discover about the man that is perhaps even more sinister and degrading than what took place tonight in his mansion. “All clean.”

Jungkook is lost in his own world through the lens, making sure he captures everything in an angle that he knows will drive him absolutely mad later, as he will likely replay the content over and over. He hums in approval as he reaches out to grasp Jimin’s jaw between his fingers, squeezing his cheeks to amplify the pout of those plushy lips. “Good boy.” He praises, finally turning the camera off and placing it on the floor to give his full attention. “There’s one more thing that I want before we’re done for today,” he murmurs, slowly inching closer to the angel, “want to kiss you.”

“Mm,” Jimin hums at the mere idea of Jungkook tasting him on his lips. “Kiss me,” he permits, melting into his touch, leaning forward to close the distance himself. It’s timid and slow, almost more intimate than sucking his cock. Jimin parts his lips to take him in deeper, needing to be closer, letting Jungkook guide the way. His mind is swimming, still drunk and coming down from his euphoric state. It feels like the perfect wrap-up after a tiring shoot. Yet, it feels much more than a reward for a job well-done. Perhaps it’s the glimmer of childlike innocence in Jungkook’s eyes that make Jimin’s heart pool in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he needs this more than he thought he would. He has all the attention he could ever want in the world of fashion, but he hasn’t felt this appreciated in a long time.

Jungkook’s hand moves to gently cup the elders cheek, drawing him closer into the kiss as he lets his lips slowly explore the other male’s. A little cautious at first, but quickly, he starts to move more naturally against Jimin’s lips, already growing addicted to the feeling. They’re silky smooth, plump, like a kiss from an angel itself. Fuck… Jungkook is whipped. “Would you like a bath before bed?” He casually asks; the domestic feel of his words are completely unfitting for the situation, yet...not. He leans in for another chaste kiss, unable to keep himself away for too long now that he’d gotten a taste.

“Before…bed…” Jimin’s words trail quietly as he didn't expect to be staying much longer, let alone overnight. Hell, he didn’t expect a lot of things to happen past his fumbling attempt to beat the younger man at his own game—Overwatch. Even then, he should attribute most of what happened to his poor handling of a controller. He could only imagine what would have happened if he accepted the offer of sugary banana milk in place of red wine. “O-kay,” he solidifies, stumbling over his words, suddenly shy under the kindness being bestowed upon him. He seals his answer with a kiss, full lips lingering on the other man’s and breathing in the intoxicating scent of cologne and natural musk. He’s in no shape to go home anyhow. The relaxing offer of a bath felt so good after the day he had.

Jungkook pulls back from the kiss to get up on his feet, effortlessly lifting Jimin within the same motion as he snakes his arm around the elder’s hip. Without a word, he guides the two of them towards the grand bathroom upstairs, paying no mind towards the maid throwing small glances from the hallway where she’s cleaning. She’s never seen the young Jeon Jungkook bring such company to his home before, so the obvious look of surprise was hard to miss. A s the door closes behind them, the younger man prepares to fill up the bathtub with hot water. He pours in some bubbles with a mild fresh scent– because, well, he loves bubbles. His childlike bunny smile widens as he turns around. “Get in, I’ll wash you.”

Jimin gives him a small smile in response and steps into the warm water. It envelops him as he slides in, soothing and fragrant like Jungkook’s long fluffy hair. It’s a calming scent that Jimin now associates with the photographer, reminding him of the studio couch where they first sat close.  Jimin is small in the lavish tub—it’s almost comical how the large bubbles nearly reach his chin. He’s still sobering but already feels much less drunk cradled in the calming water. But one important element is missing— “You wanted to wash me, Jeon?” Jimin tongues his red plushy lip and nods for Jungkook to join him in the tub. “Plenty of room for us both…”

Jungkook nods eagerly as he gets rid of the clothes covering his body, throwing them off to the side before stepping inside the tub to sink down behind Jimin. The bubbles rise with the added body into the water. “See it as a reward for being so good to me.” He praises, reaching out for the shampoo bottle to squirt a generous amount into his hand. He inhales the scent. It’s his favorite, and now the blonde would smell like it too. It’s almost as if he’s marking the elder once more in small ways. He gently starts to massage the shampoo into Jimin’s scalp, taking his time to cover every inch of the gorgeous locks. Jungkook loves to touch him, he can’t get enough.

The blonde’s eyes flutter shut, “Mm feels so good…thank you.” He leans back into Jungkook’s chest, allowing each of his muscles to go slack as the pleasurable sensation of fingers running through his hair puts him at ease. This is all very, very new to Jimin, but he’s quickly getting used to it. The slow and rhythmic motion gives him time to reflect on the day. “Do you think the show went well without me?” Jimin speaks openly, eyes still closed. Today’s event was just another critical component of his project and can’t help worrying that he may have jeopardized it by leaving early. Deep down, especially in this moment with Jungkook’s lean body pressing against his back, it’s hard to have regrets.

“You showed up, that’s all you needed to do,” Jungkook reassures with a soothing voice. His long fingers comb through the blonde curls until there’s a decent amount of lather builds up. When he deems it enough, he leans back further and pushes Jimin down gently. “Sink down further please, let me wash this off…”

Jimin slides his slick and soapy body further down into the water and cradles his head in the curve of Jungkook’s chest. At this angle, all he has to do is open his eyes to watch adoringly as the younger man combs his hands through his hair. He’s so relaxed at this point, accepting every bit of care with a contented sigh. Jimin smiles meekly, “How are you so good at this? Plenty of practice, I assume?”

The younger cups water into his hand as he washed off the suds, gently running his fingers through Jimin’s hair in the process. He smiles, nose scrunching up as he shakes his head. “No, it’s a first for me. I’ve seen it in movies, though,” he admits as the grin on his lips widens in light embarrassment. He finishes rinsing the blonde’s hair clean, then snakes his arms around his torso to pull him closer against his own. The intimacy is just as good, if not better, then the things that went down earlier.

“You’re a natural,” Jimin compliments, resting against his chest fully, “and so comfortable.” He turns his head to look up at Jungkook and admire the glowing sheen of sweat that tickles down his strong neck, over his collarbones. God, he really is beautiful. Jimin can’t wait to tailor a suit for the man, making good on his promise earlier. Every angle of his body deserves to be hugged tight.  As the hot bath water cools, Jimin begins to feel very sleepy—the long day finally catching up. Trailing shortly behind, Jungkook also began to feel sleepiness creep up on him. However, he still gives himself a few minutes of comfortable silence to simply enjoy feeling Jimin skin to skin. “Hm..” He hums in content, eyes drinking in the pretty boy beneath him, “Alright… Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow’s a long day.” Jungkook gets up to his feet with water trickling down his body, then reaches down to help Jimin up as well. He steps out of the tub and grabs two bathrobes, handing one to the elder to get warm, then guides him to his room.

Just as Jimin settles into the bathrobe, thinking it’s the cosiest thing he had ever slipped his naked body into, he sits on Jungkook’s large bed and discovers it’s even cosier.  Luxe sheets, with a thread count over 500. It isn’t something the model has dabbled in; impressing that the younger man has a taste for such things. He notes that any article of clothing made for him must be of the highest quality—no exceptions. Positively high on cloud nine, Jimin settles deeper into the bed and wonders where Jungkook ran off to. No doubt tipping the maid to keep quiet.

Jungkook returned to his studio to pick the camera off the floor. He brings it with him as he inspects the content, shameless of the sounds of Jimin’s moans and his own praises echoing, mindlessly going to the kitchen to grab himself a trusted banana milk before bed. His eyes sparkle at the video. The touch of the elder is still fresh. Hell, he’s literally upstairs in his bed. Slowly, he saunters back towards the bedroom with a camera in hand and a banana milk straw in his mouth. His gaze lifts to see his maid stand in the hallway, trying her best to seem unfazed by the lewd sounds coming from his device. “Isn’t his voice just sweeter than any other?” Jungkook smirks at the maids reaction. Obviously nodding out of respect. “Yeah… I want to keep him,” he mutters, “Make sure there’s breakfast ready in the morning.” He pays the maid no more attention before stepping inside his bedroom with the camera turned off. He places it on the nightstand along with the empty milk container, slipping out of his robe to slide under the covers next to Jimin and immediately wrapping his strong arms around him to hold close. “Missed me?’‘

“Mhm...” Jimin’s voice tapers, already partially asleep. “Missed me , Jeon?” He pushes his ass into the curve of Jungkook’s hips and feels the heat of his groin radiating into his bare flesh. His cocky confident attitude slowly returning as the alcohol burns from his system. Yet, he’s too restless to push any further. It feels good to be a bit of a tease right before bed, but he has his limits. “I’ll dream about you...,” Jimin mumbles into the pillow, muscles relaxing and eyes falling shut, “...Sir.”

Jungkook presses his nose to Jimin’s blonde curls and inhales the scent, which is now a mix between natural musk and his own shampoo. “Sleep well, butterfly,” he whispers, hugging Jimin tight as he too feels his body ache for sleep.

After a while of just...enjoying the moment, sleep finally finds Jungkook as well.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[b-rainlet]

I promised to answer this in a seperate post so here it goes!

(Sorry this took forever but...I think the length explains why ajsnsns)

For @honestmrdual who asked for Alice +/vs/or Jervis!

Slight warning??? For the discussion of kidnapping since I mention Alice and Jervis within my Rotten AU

Also Murder. And Suicide.

Also Incest. Duh.

Jervis vs. Alice

That's...a hard one but also super simple? Like, I don't think either of them would want to fight the other, you know?

Of course Jervis doesn't wanna hurt his love but Alice also would rather avoid a confrontation with her brother.

But since as long as one of them is alive, they're gonna play an eternal game of cat and mouse, it would've come down to a fight eventually.

And even though in canon Alice dies, I think she would win.

Because canon seems more like an accident than a strategic suicide (even though Gordon words it like it's one).

But if it came down to a one on one fight?

I mean, Alice is shown to be willing to shoot Jervis whereas Jervis never truly threatens her.

Like yeah, she's tied up but he doesn't threaten her with a gun (like he does at the Lee/Valerie/Jim tea party for example) and when they meet on the roof he's mostly super happy to see her, he doesn't even think about defending himself??

He just stands there, arms up and obviously wanting to touch/hug Alice.

(Which…I think about often ansnsnsn)

So if they didn't need Jervis around for longer, Alice would've definitely killed him.

Shot him. Stabbed him. Lit him on fire. Whatever she could think of at that moment.

And Jervis probably would be super surprised because?? Alice??? His dear sister?? Why would you hurt him like this if he only wants to keep you safe???

Also I have made a post before about how he never once tries to hypnotize her - possibly because she's immune but that's never outright stated so maybe he also just...wouldn't do that to her. And I lose my mind every time I think about that for more than two seconds).

Also also, if I am already rambling - when am I not - the way it would've given Alice way more agency if she would've chosen to die the way Jim seems to imply she did.

Since he goes 'She would've rather been dead than spend any more time with you' or something like that and you could argue that yeah, she does pull away from Jervis but I think that was more 'I need to get away' and less 'I'm actively choosing to get impaled now'.

Just imagine!!

Jervis once again pressing Alice to his chest, watching Jim and Harvey fight tweedle dee and tweedle dum, when suddenly Alice pushes away, frees herself and stumbles into the room.

And everyone freezes for a moment because she's yelling at them to stop and Jim's telling her to go hide somewhere while Jervis is trying to reach for her without getting shot but she's having none of it.

She's sick of running, sick of hiding, she doesn't wanna live the rest of her life like this, always looking over her shoulder, always ready to vanish again, never truly able to build herself a life, to make any friends, to do more than survive.

Mostly, she wants to be able to wash all the blood from her hands, wants to stop being responsible for people getting hurt, the ones close to her and the ones unfortunate enough to be in her brother's way.

It's her fault Jervis is in Gotham, it's her fault Jim nearly died, it's her fault Jervis manipulated and maimed and murdered his way to her.

Not to mention she's a killer too! It's in her blood just as much as it is in Jervis' and she's tired of it, of all of it.

And it seems for a second she's gonna go to Jervis willingly and stay with him (which is an option she knows, but it wouldn't stop the running and the hiding, wouldn't stop the detectives from coming after them) but no.

Instead she picks up Jervis' gun (that I think he discarded in that scene? If not, he did now ajsjsjs) and she shoots herself.

And everyone would yell at her not to do it, voices shouting and people running toward her before there's this loud bang and then there's silence.

For a very long time.

Anyway, since Alice made it very clear she chose to die, it would be harder for Jervis to delude himself into thinking Jim somehow forced her or tore her away from him (although he would probably still manage, it's Jervis after all) so maybe, they'd actually get to arrest him (because I can see him just...falling to his knees and not moving after Alice is dead. Maybe cradling her in his arms. There's no real reason to go on now after all).

But even if he gets dragged away like in canon, this minor change would've made Alice' death a lot more driven in my opinion.

(And if we still need her impaled then imagine her speech and then she lets herself fall backwards with her eyes closed and her arms outstretched and she still ends up on the pole).

(Plus, because I like multiple endings, two possibilities I would also consider very sexy but wouldn't make sense in canon since they need Jervis around:

Jervis kills himself after seeing Alice die - much like Victor Fries tried to do, because what kind of life is this if the one person worth living for is dead?

 Alice pretends she's willingly going with Jervis but she used the time she had while she was monologuing to acquire a weapon (maybe one of the needles Jervis used to draw her blood) and once she's close enough she goes for a hug and ends up stabbing him in the neck multiple times until he's falling down in front of her, slowly bleeding out, murmuring her name with his eyes open in shock.

Just....some musings you know akjssksm).

Jervis + Alice

Do I even need to answer this? xD

They're on my top ship list, they're right up there next to Jecco and Jerelina, but they also have scenes within canon that make my mind go !!! like Jerome/Lee and Jervis/Ecco do.

They're just....good. Very good.

I have...a lot of thoughts and AUs for them but I think I shared them all already because I can't stop blabbering about them lmao.

Although I gotta say I've been thinking about them within my Jeremiah/Ecco/Jerome AU (aka the Rotten Fic)

Specifically about Jervis being Alice' legal guardian since she was about 10 or even younger (since their parents died very early in her life) and Alice isn't exactly being held captive but everytime she tried to run away while she was growing up, the police simply brought her back to her brother.

Because she was a minor and he was her 'loving and worried' big brother - who also could be very persuasive and knew how to manipulate people in his favour - and soon she was known as a 'notorious runaway' and the people she tried to plead for help only smiled at her in that condescending way people do when they pity you.

'Ah there she is, the little Tetch Girl, poor thing, lost her parents so soon. Now she's a troubled kid, running away, telling lies. She can be thankful her brother is so patient and loving with her.'

And surely all the tales she likes to spin about her brother crawling into bed with her or giving her 'special baths' are simply a sign for her overactive imagination, a hurt child making up all sorts of morbid things to get some attention.

And now she's around 20 and she knows she's old enough, an adult now, they would have to at least listen now.

Or she could simply try and get away, out of town, the police can't escort her back to her house anymore, they can't stop her at the train station and tell her she's a bad girl for worrying her brother like that.

But she also knows Jervis would never let her, he would come after her and he would kill everyone she would dare to care about besides him.

He would find her no matter where she hides.

It's safer when she stays, for her and for all the people out there she will never get to meet.

I simply like the idea of Alice basically being in a kidnapping situation but no one realizes. She's the sweet girl living with her brother, she belongs at home with her brother, what is she talking about being 'at her brother's mercy'.

And it's gotten to a point where he put her out of school with the promises of 'homeschooling' to 'help her anxiety' and oh, isn't he such a sweet and caring brother?

Taking it upon himself to teach her at home, what a big sacrifice it must be for him to completely focus on his little sister like that, to make sure she doesn't get left behind!

(And of course, since Jervis can be...persuasive, no one questions whether he actually has a teaching degree or anything of the like, no, Alice is shoved into his arms with smiles and waves).

And as Alice grew up, got to a point where her words couldn't be brushed aside as child's talk anymore, she learned to play her part. Made some…mistakes, said the wrong thing to the wrong person and had to live with the consequences.

(Consequences the other person can't live with anymore).

So if some newer neighbours notice that Alice is never seen outside? Well, she's a shy girl, no need to be worried!

Her brother is such a gentleman and he does make it a point to introduce the both of them to everyone who moves into their street, did the same when they first moved to Gotham, going from door to door with little Alice on his hand to prevent any rumours from spreading to make a good first impression!

And even if someone does worry, they only need to wait until Jervis is gone for the day to ring the doorbell. Alice will open and invite them inside, will play nice and portray the little sister Jervis told her to be.

The neighbour will come back home thinking 'Oh well, the girl is a shut-in, nothing too out of the ordinary. It's a dangerous city after all' and Alice will remain in her room and fight back the panic inside her, knowing that if she didn't do her job right and they get suspicious....accidents happen all the time.

Of course this routine is gonna get disturbed once Ecco enters the scene but let's not get ahead of ourselves👀👀👀

(Anyways the inherent horror of being kidnapped and used by strangers - aka Ecco and the twins - vs. Being permanently kept in a glass cage that no one else can see except you and no one can ever hear you scream for help - aka Alice and Jervis)

Jervis or Alice

Okay that's a hard one! Like, harder than choosing between Ecco and Jervis because Jervis and Alice are kinda on the same level here.

I love Jervis. You know if you've seen even just a fraction of my blog lmao.

But Alice.....so much potential. Such a good fucking storyline.

(Jervis and Alice as two sides of the same coin? I'd even say they have a big 'star-crossed lovers, one can't truly exist without the other' vibe. I mean, you could even compare them to 'B*tjokes in a way - only the who hunts who down is flipped).

Also Alice is very pretty and I have an obvious preference for girls in pretty much any piece of media I consume.

But then you have Jervis, who isn't only involved in the Alice storyline but is also part of the J Squad.....you have the legendary Jerome/Jonathan/Jervis team up and all three of them being horribly into each other....Jonathan and Jervis basically being an old married couple....the way Jervis looks at Jerome which still has me losing my mind....also you have the Ace Chemicals Episode which single-handedly saved the 5th season......the superb Ecco/Jervis interaction......fuck, this is hard.

I love Alice and I need to talk about her more often but I think Jervis wins simply by having more interactions with other characters (and oh to have Alice around for longer.....have her face off against Jervis on the regular.....Bruce deserves a little ragtag team of protoheroes in my opinion so why not add Alice...).

...But I am getting off track :D

[wings-of-a-storm]

So there’s a scene in ‘Love, Victor’ that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. It just fascinates me to a ridiculous level (probably more than it warrants, to be honest). It’s when Benji sings ‘Call Me Maybe’ to Victor at Battle of the Bands.

Yes, this moment! I have yielded to its power.

Like where the hell do I even begin to start unpacking the existence of this kind of moment so early on in the show?

To start with, I used to be haunted by the question: Was Benji actually singing to Victor with that intense eye-contact for the whole song or was the entire thing just “Victor Vision” and symbolic of what Victor wishes was happening?

And at first, my answer was: There’s just no wayyyy Benji could have actually done that! For the simple reason of HOW THE HELL WOULD HE HAVE BEEN ABLE TO JUSTIFY THAT TO HIMSELF? Singing a love song inspired by another guy, to that guy’s face, while the boyfriend he is super committed to is literally standing beside him, dropping phat beats on his bass to help the song come to life?

And yet…over the course of the performance, Benji starts to look almost angry/bitter/sad as he’s singing.

And as soon as the performance wraps up, Benji’s eyes are still locked right onto Victor’s as he steps off the stage. Like there is no searching, he knows exactly were Victor is and heads straight to him. And even more telling, once his Singer Persona drops off, he is nervously fiddling with his hands as he walks to Victor, like he’s waiting for Victor’s verdict of the performance. Kind of like: “Did you like it? Because I know how much you love that song and I sang it for you.”

I mean… Excuse me, sir? Consider me convinced that Benji really was singing it while staring at Victor the whole time, and Victor Vision just embellished parts. And you know what, that suddenly turns a fairly tropey scene into something so much more psychologically stimulating. Welcome to the holy trifecta of burning questions:

- Why did Benji make a cover in the first place? - Why did he sing it staring at Victor the whole time? - How did he justify it to himself?

The beauty of Benji's enigma is that the answers to those questions can be anything you want them to be. So many reasons fit, and so many overlap. It’s really rather fun to try and figure it all out, especially when there aren’t really any wrong answers.

So I guess here are mine:

WHY DID BENJI MAKE A COVER IN THE FIRST PLACE?

Fact: After sharing a fun Moment with Victor (dancing together like no one but Victor’s mother was watching, hah), Benji went home inspired to turn that song into a cover of his own. Why? Looking at it logically, their time together must have meant a lot to Benji, more than anyone could have realised. It affected him to the point where he had to preserve that moment, live in it for a bit longer, and also unpack it in his own mind in a way he’s most familiar and comfortable with: a creative outlet.

I love the idea of Benji listening to ‘Call Me Maybe’ over and over again when he got back home. At first just to relive the high he got from sharing such an uninhibited Moment with Victor (a rare occurrence after spending so much of his time walking around egg shells with Derek?). But then, after the nth play, getting the inspiration to make his own slower version of the track to better explore his feelings about that night and the way Victor makes him feel. Then finally re-listening to the song over and over again but this time to get the right chords and the right splicing/arrangement of lyrics that could convey his feelings but not completely cross the line into full on romance…

But Benji making that cover could have been inspired by so many tangled up reasons, like:

- He realised the lyrics were mirroring his own thoughts and experience, so singing it out loud was helping him process the harmless crush he seemed to be developing

- He wanted to preserve the memory of their dancing Moment because it gives him a dose of happy feels to relive it

- He may have partly intended to make the new version as a sort of gift to Victor that he’d one day play for him (maybe even at Battle of the Bands if Victor changed his mind and showed up). A gift that would further tie them together and cement their friendship, be a way to show Victor how much their friendship already means to him, and give back a little to Victor for trusting Benji with personal/embarrassing information about his guilty pleasures. Like a pre-Drawing gift, with similar energy

And let’s be real, also to try to impress Victor so that Benji can feel a little cool and desirable since it seems he doesn’t often get to feel that way around Derek. Like seriously, who can forget the lingering looks of anticipation Benji gave Victor when he first told him he was a Lead Singer in a Band. He wanted to impress Victor so badly. And who wouldn’t crave Victor’s sweet brand of attention?

Okay, so now Benji has a cover. But…

WHY DID BENJI SING IT STARING AT VICTOR THE WHOLE TIME?

Well firstly, how passionate must Benji have been behind the scenes if he was able to arrange a cover in less than 24 hours before the contest and prioritise it in band practice so that everyone was on board with his musical whim? (And how did he convince Derek to play such an unpretentious song?)

But I imagine the Intense Staring was probably a mixture of:

- Benji had probably spent a lot of the night hoping that Victor would miraculously show up after all (that mood of secretly looking through the crowd every so often throughout the night just in case…). And then when Victor actually did show up, Benji made the band play CMM even though they were still workshopping it, and got so caught up in his excitement and determination, he zeroed in on Victor hard and forgot to reign it in

- Because Benji feels something for Victor (even if he can’t name what exactly that is), and performance is a safe way to express the things he’s not meant to be feeling. It’s a safe space because when you’re performing something, you have the creative freedom to be someone else, to become another version of yourself, a persona, with the license to use whatever emotions you have in your arsenal to tell a story. Benji could express his yearning and fascination (etc) for Victor with the distance of a parallel universe or alternate reality. Stage Benji is allowed to stare

- Because Mia was there with Victor and Benji felt compelled and determined to win Victor’s attention back. You know, some good old fashioned jealousy born of insecurity -- that feeling of being a little insecure and protective of a new friendship, of wanting that person to just see you as special, of feeling like you have something to prove or you’ll end up forgotten in the background. (And maybe he was also a little sick of straight(?) girls having it so easy with the cute guys…)

- Because Benji subconsciously wanted to telegraph to Victor that he is interested in him (and is bitter that it’s not that simple) and wanted to see if Victor bites back. For science

- Or maybe because Benji saw a perfect chance to perform the song as a cute gift to Victor since he actually showed up, but then his intentions quickly unravelled into the prior points, haha

And that leads me to…

HOW DID HE JUSTIFY THE INTENSE* STARING TO HIMSELF?

(*Because even if the song was meant to be something innocent like a homage to an in-joke with Victor or a harmless means to process his feelings on this new and exciting friendship with an attractive boy, the intensity with which he sang it felt like something else entirely. It transcended friendship into a very ambiguous zone. And there was so much yearning in it. Particularly by the end...)

I think Benji probably justified his behaviour by thinking:

- It’s okay for Lead Singer Benji to stare at his muse while performing a story. (It’s just a persona, there’s no need for guilt!)

- It’s normal to be excited by a new friendship and it’s okay to want to sing a giddy song about that experience. And at worst, it’s just a harmless crush that will eventually fade once the novelty wears off. It’s not like he has any intention to do anything further with it since he is committed to Derek. It’s just fun to feel the tingles of a teeny crush…….

Alright, that’s it. I’m out. I’m done. I’ve got nothing left. Thanks for the ride, Benji, you mysterious, complicated, hopeless romantic.

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine- last call

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1195

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: I don’t know where this came from but it was definitely fun to write! Hope you enjoyed the angst train because by next week that ride will be over! 

poison & wine masterlist

Black Widow Babe- 1 missed call

Hey, just came back from the mission and FRIDAY said you left without saying goodbye. I hope you’re doing ok. If Loki did something to you on that trip, let me know. It wouldn’t be my first time killing a royal prince. Call me back or just come back. Bye. 

Wanda Woman- 1 missed call

Hi, love. I know Nat called but I thought I would call you too. I don’t know… Call it my sixth witchy sense but I feel like something’s wrong. Your room… It’s filled with some chaotic energy and I’m worried. I haven’t told anyone this but call me back and let me know if you’re ok. Maybe we can do brunch and talk about whatever is bothering you. Just know that we’re here for you. Love you. 

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 8 missed calls

Hey. I’ve been calling you and you keep ignoring my calls so here I am leaving a voicemail. Do people still do these things these days? I don’t know and I guess it doesn’t really matter cause I’m doing it. 

I’m just worried about you. Barnes won’t tell me anything about you leaving and the Prince of Darkness has been awfully gloomy and I’m not saying it’s you but… Kid, I mean what happened out there? You left without saying goodbye which you never do and I… I’m just really worried. 

I know you’re back at home trying to recover from what shall not be spoken but call me back. Let me know you’re alive. I… Well, you know. 

The Mighty Thor- 1 missed call

Leave a message after a beep? Alright that seems quite simple, telephone lady. Waiting for a beep. Beep, beep, beep… This is taking too long. Perhaps I should try emaili-

Buchanan Barnes- 3 missed calls

Hi doll, had to sneak off to call you but it seems your phone is off and I get it. I understand why you have to disconnect, but everyone is worried about you. Nat and Wanda cornered me the other day and threatened to take my arm off if I didn’t tell them what I saw when you left but I’m not a trained spy for nothing. I can keep a secret which I assure you, I’ve kept it. Lips are sealed. 

I just… I think you need to come back. Besides everyone being worried about you, I mean… I might not know the guy very well, but Loki is quite the recluse since he returned. We haven’t talked much but he did ask about you and Y/N… Just call me back, please. 

Black Widow Babe- 4 missed call

Wanda Woman- 5 missed call

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 14 missed calls

Unknown Number  Peter Parkour- 1 missed call

Ah, Y/N! Hello! I have finally learned how to use a voicemail! Spiderboy- 

-SpiderMAN

Man? But you are small. You are but a boy. 

-Mr. Thor, please? 

Very well, you are to be a very tiny Spiderman. Where was I going with this? How do I-

-No, don’t push that button-!

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 22 missed calls

Capn’ Crunch (Stevie)- 1 missed call

Hi, Y/N. I know everyone’s been calling and I tried to give you the space you wanted but it’s been weeks since we last heard of you. Bucky assures me you’re fine but I can tell he’s not too sure about that either. 

We all miss you here and I’m not trying to guilt trip you to come back but we do miss you... some more than others. I’m not going to name names but… I don’t know what happened up there in Asgard but I have a feeling that I might actually do and I… I’m trying to refrain from going all Captain to you but is running away the best option here? You have people who care about you and wish to support you here so please consider it. 

Be safe wherever you are. 

Buchanan Barnes- 5 missed calls

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 37 missed calls

The Mighty Thor- 2 missed calls

HELLO! Ah, yes. I finally have managed it. Very tiny Spiderman was not as useful as I hoped he would be, but I have managed on my own! I hope you are doing well Lady Y/N. For my brother’s sake, I hope you are. I told him to leave you a voicemail but he refused. I don’t understand why he’s being quite cold lately. Haven’t seen him this way since we were children when father and I accidentally left him behind in one of our adventures. 

I don’t know what occurred back in Asgard but it seems it must have been quite severe for Loki to be behaving this way. I was hoping you might offer some insight. Or well… I should have considered perhaps that Loki might have done something to you. That’s quite worrisome. Please do call me back or send me an email! My email is- 

End of Audio Message.

Buchanan Barnes- 11 missed calls

Tony ‘IronMan’ Stank- 91 missed calls

Alright, kid. This is the last call I’m making. I… I’ve been calling you every day for the past few months trying to reach you. I have half the mind to fly out to your little getaway and YES I know where you’ve been this whole time. You think I don’t have the means to find your home estate? 

Anyways, I’m tired. It’s four in the morning and I thought I’ll give it one last shot. I’ve been trying to reach you because well… I have some big news. I don’t know if you’ve been checking your mail or even checking your voicemail but I proposed to Pepper a while back. 

We actually had an engagement party, and a bachelor party, and a bridal shower, and well you get the picture… We’ve missed you on a lot of things but you can make up for it by coming to the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. You should have gotten an invite and I’m really hoping you’ll come. You’re family, Y/N so just… Just check your mail and book a flight. 

Y/N- 1 Missed Call

“Hey, I know it’s late and you’re probably asleep but I thought I should call you before I board my flight. I know I’ve been MIA but I… I just needed some time to myself. I know I’ve been gone for a long time but being home gave me that clarity I was looking for. 

I uh… I actually started to read my mother’s journals again and as much as it hurt I could… I could just feel her with me again. I started to think about what she would say about this mess I found myself in and it made me realize that I left you behind. I basically abandoned you and for selfish reasons so I’m sorry. I hope I can make it up to you when I get back to the compound. 

Maybe uh… I mean, if you don’t have a date already, we can go to Tony’s rehearsal dinner together. Just a thought so… so yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @is-it-madness @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn @fandoms-allovertheplace @marvelloonie @jinxjinxednova @queenmuahaha @accio-boys @eternalqueensworld @umlvk @roger-the-reindeer @punkrockhufflefluff @your-local-abyss @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals​ @rogerrhqpsody @imsad420 @pandacookieowo @justnerdystuffs @hanoi15​ @oneprolificqueen​ @nikki-who-likes-coffee​ @fandomrelative​ @nikki419ninja​ @onedollarduck​ @help-i-need-a-social-life​​ @ephemeraljade​ @catsladen @amwolowicz​ @captainmarvelnerd​ @thegirlbeyondtheuniverse​ @ddaeing​ @leftperfectionmoon​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-njorddottir @aoirohi​ @defunctcherrybomb​ @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals​

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie​ @moonlightprime

[beca-mitchell]

wish i could pretend i didn't need you (2/?)

Summary: Beca Mitchell is born into a life of organized crime, directionless and despondent. Then she meets Chloe Beale.

Chapter Summary: One week later, Beca and Chloe go on their "first" date.

Word Count: 3,564

Chapter title from "What Am I" by Why Don't We.

Read below. AO3 Link under the cut.

“Beca, piano is about precision, of course. But also...a delicate touch. Precision and gentleness all at once. Watch.”

Beca watches carefully, eyes trained on the keys her mother presses. Very intently, she tracks each motion, making sure to memorize the melody.

“Understand?” her mother asks, lifting a hand to sweep a strand of Beca’s hair behind her ear.

Beca furrows her brow in concentration before she places her hands on the keys and mimics exactly what her mother had down, copying the melody precisely. When she finishes, she beams up at her mother who smiles at her with pride and a little bit of another, then-unidentifiable emotion.

* * * * *

 Beca glances at her phone for the tenth time since she reached the corner of the block she had agreed to meet Chloe at.

Radio silence from her father. He must be in a good mood. Better for Beca if he is. She has been riding a wave of being nervous over her first date with Chloe. Chloe Beale, a twenty-seven year-old vet with a heart of gold and a devastating smile.

The whole date thing—that pretty much came out of nowhere, smashing into Beca with the force of a thousand sledgehammers. Any ensuing breathlessness, however, turned out to be breathless excitement and anticipation. She wasn’t...opposed to going on a date. She wasn’t opposed to seeing Chloe again, despite telling herself that she was just attracted to Chloe on a physical level and only that.

After that first night—that first morning—they had exchanged numbers, content on simply staying in touch—at least Beca is sure that was how she had phrased it. She had caught the lingering dash of disappointment on Chloe’s face as she had slowly slid from the bed. Whatever had caused her to partake in her next actions, well she totally blamed her lingering hangover (nonexistent hangover), but she had kissed Chloe again.

It was just...that time of year, she told herself. Continues to tell herself.

“Stupid,” she mutters to herself, now absentmindedly tapping through her phone. Her last text from Chloe—a cheerful On my way!—stares innocently back at her. Is she dating this woman now? Are they girlfriends? Is there—should Beca have brought flowers?

Huge oversights everywhere. Red flags everywhere. Beca runs through all the possible options in her mind, thoughts of her father so far out of her mind.

Ultimately, worst case scenario: Beca had, quite simply put, been unable to resist Chloe Beale that night and she had found that she needed the company more than anything. She rarely found connections with other people, let alone strangers. It was something ingrained in her from the beginning—something that had been impressed upon her as a child, then as a teenager, and continuously as an adult.

Don’t become attached.

“I hope I’m not late.”

Beca startles, quickly putting her phone away as she turns to greet Chloe. She stops—freezes—and for once, finds her mind going blank. No thoughts about her calendar. No thoughts about missed phone calls. No thoughts about missed shipments. No thoughts about her father, obligations, or meetings.

Just one thought: “Chloe, hi. Wow. Hi.”

Chloe’s hair, carefully curled and flowing over her shoulders, ruffles in the wind. She is wearing a denim jacket over a black shirt and black jeans which Beca can tell hug her hips and thighs beautifully. Somehow, despite the simplicity, Beca feels underdressed in her own nice sweater and jeans.

“That’s a good wow, right?” Chloe’s voice holds a teasing lilt to it, like she knows exactly why Beca is so flustered. She probably does, Beca muses. Beca wonders if they can kiss—wonders why she has all kinds of knowledge about various weapons, business transactions, and how to get the deal she wants, but none—well, hardly any knowledge—about how to handle a normal first date with a beautiful woman.

She goes with the first thing on her mind.

“You’re…” Beca swallows, eyes tracking down Chloe’s body. “You’re beautiful.”

“I…” Chloe blushes, shy for once under Beca’s gaze. “Thank you.” Beca holds her breath, wondering if Chloe will kiss her; wondering if that would be odd. Chloe smiles, leaning in to press a kiss against her lips, allowing a brief moment of indulgence when Beca’s tongue sweeps across her lower lip, almost politely. It makes Chloe giggle, causing her to draw back to Beca’s disappointment.

“What?” Beca asks. She licks her lips unconsciously, taking a step back. It is so different seeing Chloe like this in the drifting sunset and on a public walkway, without the shadow of night and alcohol, all tangled up in their bedsheets. “Did I do something?”

“Nothing,” Chloe promises, reaching out to gently tuck a curl behind Beca’s ear. “You’re just a lot more shy today, considering what we did last week.”

Beca laughs, a breathless sound, tilting her body slightly so she can face away from Chloe just enough to hide the blush rising on her face. She can hardly compartmentalize the sensation that flows through her then. The ease she feels with this interaction—Chloe is hardly somebody she would consider a confidante. More likely to be a liability if anything. A danger to herself if she were to ever get too wrapped up in Beca’s life.

The thought makes Beca swallow. Too much thinking about the future. Too much thinking about a guaranteed future with a woman she slept with once.

A woman with whom she is about to embark on a date.

A first date with somebody who has no idea who she is.

“Beca?” Chloe’s voice comes back into Beca’s depth. “If that is your name. Beca Mitchell,” she drawls.

“Sorry, what?” Beca asks quickly.

“Nothing you just…got all quiet and shy. I was just kidding.” Chloe beams at her, holding out a hand. “Want to get going then?”

“Oh, um.” Beca smiles, reaching out to hold Chloe’s hand, resisting the urge to shiver at how warm and soft Chloe’s hand feels in her own. “Let’s. And yes, my name is Beca, you weirdo.”

“Are you okay with going to Victor’s?”

Beca blinks in surprise at the mention of one of the restaurants where her family frequently conducts business. “Oh, um—”

“I just heard it had good reviews, and it’s close.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been there. It’s fine.” Beca doesn’t think much of it. She hasn’t been there often enough and never really for business in a high profile sense. She’s sure it’ll be a relatively easy-to-handle situation.

She’s on a date. She knows she isn’t working. She knows that her father knows that. But still, she misses what Chloe says in response, too focused on the logistics that have momentarily flooded her mind.

“Hey,” Chloe says quietly, stopping them in their tracks. She tugs on Beca’s hand expectantly. Beca swallows, looking up into Chloe’s eyes as Chloe is seemingly unaware of the people having to walk around them on the sidewalk, grumbling all the while. “I’m glad I get to see you again.”

Beca finds that she has only the urge to tell Chloe the truth—to be honest and open with this woman. It is different. Refreshing. “Me too,” she replies, smiling again when Chloe leans in to kiss her again, soft lips tender and gentle against her own.

 * * * * *

 Beca finds that she loves talking to Chloe—loves her company and her presence. That first morning together had been more of the same humorous banter. They had kind of gotten to know each other, but mostly Beca had basked in the comfort of Chloe’s presence and her touch.

(And more of some of the same activities that had brought them into Chloe’s bed in the first place, but that was just a bonus, Beca told herself.)

Tonight, however, is something more. Beca feels it. It had been what she had anticipated, with no small measure of nerves, when she had accepted Chloe’s text asking her on a date only a few days after they had gone their separate ways.

Tonight, together, they sit in the quiet corner of the restaurant, staying for hours until the lights dim and they realize that they’ve stayed until closing. Chloe turns to meet Beca’s bewildered expression and they both burst into quiet giggles as they quickly gather their belongings.

“That’s never happened to me before,” Chloe comments. “Staying until a restaurant has closed.” She flutters her eyelashes at Beca. “You’re a good date.”

Beca smiles, taking a moment to make sure her phone is in her pocket. As she does so, she notices one of the wait staff gesturing for her to go into the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back. Just going to the bathroom.” She pecks Chloe on the cheek, quickly making her way to the back of the restaurant. When she’s sure that Chloe isn’t looking, she ducks into the kitchen, brow already furrowed and her mouth set in a thin line. “This better be good,” she points out, clearly displeased.

The maître-d cowers under Beca’s gaze for a few seconds before she grows bored and turns her attention to the restaurant owner who, to his credit, walks right up to her without a care in the world. “Miss Mitchell—”

Beca’s jaw clenches. “Beca.”

He smirks at her. Her fingers twitch against her thigh, wishing more than anything she had something more than a switchblade on her. “Miss Mitchell, so kind of you to stop by our restaurant tonight.”

“I’m kind of busy, so if you could…” she motions with her finger. “Hurry up a little, that would be great.”

“Is that any way to talk to somebody who extended restaurant hours for you and your…” his eyes cut to the door with a knowing glint. “Your friend.”

“I’m not working tonight,” Beca says lowly in lieu of responding to the obvious bait. “What do you want?”

“Seems your associates left something behind the last time they passed through here. And shortchanged us on some money. When we agreed to help you, it was simply that—to pass through.” He lifts a small package, carefully wrapped and tied in string. “We can’t have things like this here.”

Beca smirks. “Are you sure that wasn’t just one of your employees taking a little something for themselves?”

He presses the package into Beca’s arms before stepping back. “Send your father my regards—or maybe I can call him to let him know I saw you tonight?”

Beca swallows back the immediate rage she had felt when the package pressed into her arms roughly. She quickly tucks it into the waistband of her jeans, finding no pockets in her chosen sweater for the evening. Already, she feels the tension in her chest about to snap—a combination of anxiety and frustration with yet another business mishap. A business dealing that she can’t even address properly because Chloe is sitting alone at their table in an empty restaurant, simply waiting for Beca to return from the bathroom. Definitely not thinking about the package of questionable substances (drugs, Beca assumes dryly) tucked into her date’s jeans.

“I’m sure your friend will understand if you…end the evening early. But we would be happy to help you find an escort to get her home.” 

Beca’s heart races. She meets his gaze defiantly. A litany of words threatens to escape, nothing particularly appealing or fitting for the current situation. She steadies herself mentally, attempting to plaster a neutral expression on her face. She goes for calculated reasoning and an even tone, hedging a bet as to what exactly happened to have caused a mix-up at this level. “Next time,” she says, keeping her voice low. “If you ever try to steal from us again, at least make the effort to own up to it instead of chickening out. Trying to save your own ass like this?” She shrugs, making her way back to the kitchen entrance. “Not a good look,” she finishes, without looking back.

The short walk back to Chloe feels like a lifetime, but Beca makes it. She releases a breath she hadn’t known she was holding the moment Chloe turns to face her. Chloe, who is blessedly alone, stands and her eyes flash with concern. “I was about to go find you. Thought you slipped out the back or something.”

There is levity in Chloe’s voice, but Beca senses the underlying hesitation. The uncertainty. That same uncertainty is reflective of the sheer newness of...whatever this is and already Beca feels like she has done enough damage for one evening. For as big as Los Angeles is, she has come to know, through experience, that there is rarely anywhere to hide. “Sorry, just had some business to take care of,” she apologizes, offering a sheepish shrug to mask the momentary guilt and dread that had crept through her.

Chloe grins. “I mean. I didn’t ask. But thank you.”

Beca blushes even though she had totally said that with the intent of diverting Chloe’s attention while also going for some honesty, though she’s sure Chloe doesn’t need to know about what happened in the kitchen. She doesn’t need Chloe to know about any of that.

“Shall we?” Beca asks, opting to change the subject instead.

“Okay,” Chloe agrees. She stands, reaching for Beca’s hand. The gesture and all its casual intimacy makes Beca swallow. She doesn’t dare look back to see if anybody is watching; she doesn’t dare look back to check if any unsavory eyes are focused on their actions. She is suddenly so aware of how empty the restaurant is, how they really are the only ones there. She just had become so distracted and enamored by her conversation with Chloe—the way her eyes had sparkled so beautifully under the gentle restaurant lighting.

Still, with Chloe’s hand in her own, Beca finds that she manages to remain stoic, ramrod straight back and all. Together, they leave the restaurant, Beca’s heart somewhere in her throat all the while.

“I...don’t want this night to end,” Chloe admits as they walk down the quiet street. Beca shifts her gaze from assessing the parked cars along the street to meet Chloe’s eyes.

“I don’t either,” Beca admits.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Didn’t you kiss me already?” Beca asks quickly with a twitch of her lips. Before she can even form a full smirk, Chloe’s hand comes up to cup the back of her head delicately and her lips descend on Beca’s. Softly, she kisses Beca, both of their eyes slipping shut at the sensation. Beca sighs quietly, reaching up to grip Chloe’s shoulders as she tilts her head to fully sink into the kiss. She tries to memorize the way Chloe kisses her. It is a mix of desire, tenderness, and newness all at once. There is nothing to memorize however, not quite yet, as Chloe’s technique shifts and changes seamlessly with each moment.

“Come back with me,” Chloe requests, pressing her fingertips more firmly against the back of Beca’s head. “Please,” she whispers, breath ghosting against Beca’s jaw. Beca whimpers quietly, lifting her chin to catch Chloe in another kiss, both of them sinking into the sensation. Beca feels her back hit the brick exterior of the nearby storefront. Chloe presses closer still, sliding a hand around Beca’s waist to hold her close. The action incites Beca’s back into arching so she presses more solidly against Chloe’s front, enjoying the sensation of their bodies slowly beginning to meld together so naturally. Beca reaches up to hold Chloe’s face, losing herself momentarily.

She is abruptly brought back to reality when she shifts her stance to nudge her leg between Chloe’s and the rough texture of the package still tucked into her jeans rubs harshly against her belly. She gasps, pushing Chloe back slightly, placing her hands against the collar of her jacket.

“Sorry,” Chloe says quickly, looking rather contrite. “I’m sorry, I just—I haven’t stopped thinking about—”

“No, no, um. Me too. It’s…” Beca gently nudges Chloe back further as she steps away from the wall. “It’s...I have to be somewhere tonight. See my dad.”

Chloe’s lips—already pink and swollen, sending a flash of desire through Beca’s body—curve downwards, but she nods in understanding. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes again. “I just thought…”

“No, I just...yeah. He called earlier and I should…” Beca blows out a breath, running her fingers through her hair. “I should...go. See him, I mean.”

Chloe smiles reassuringly, both of them relaxing as Chloe takes one of Beca’s hands off her jacket. She presses a slow kiss to Beca’s knuckles, sending a shiver down Beca’s spine. “It’s okay. I’m not really a...put-out-on-the-first-date kind of person anyway.”

That breaks the rest of the tension that had been lingering in Beca’s body and she has half a mind to say fuck it to her father (not a new feeling) and all of this bullshit and just go home with Chloe. She laughs, pulling Chloe boldly in for another kiss, but stopping before they can go any further. “Well. I mean, something tells me that’s a lie.”

Chloe scoffs. “Please. That wasn’t a date. You were just a hot girl I met at a bar.”

Beca raises an eyebrow. “And now?” she asks, a twinge of curiosity seeping its way into her tone before she can help it.

“One of the best first dates I’ve been out with,” Chloe murmurs. “And I want to see you again.” Her eyes seem to shine even more than Beca had previously thought possible. “If that’s okay with you.”

Beca finds herself smiling—a smile that very nearly stretches her face uncomfortably because she cannot recall ever smiling that widely. At least not in recent memory. “That is...super okay with me.”

“Super okay,” Chloe echoes with a playful smile. The sight makes Beca’s stomach swoop, but at the same time, she is only reminded of the pressure against her belly from both the anxiety and weight (figurative and literal) of the package. “By the way?” Chloe chirps. “I would totally break that first date rule. Just saying. If we just forget all that bar nonsense.”

Beca groans. “Shut up,” she murmurs, though she does not mean it. She wouldn’t mind hearing Chloe laugh for the rest of the night, but she knows she cannot.

 * * * * *

 Beca’s good mood dissipates fairly quickly as she punches in the number to her father’s gated house. She trudges up the path, ignoring the greetings and acknowledgements from the guards she passes along the way.

By the time she reaches her father’s study, passing all the ornate decorative pieces lining the hallways along the way, she is clutching the nondescript package in her clenched fist. Without knocking, she pushes through the doors.

He barely glances up from his book. “Beca. What’d I say about knocking?”

“I forgot,” she says breezily. She tosses the package on the desk in front of him. “This is yours, I believe?”

He sighs, taking his time to earmark his book before he removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Such manners,” he mutters. He peers at the package, reaching out to turn it over delicately, noting the small writings along its edge. “Didn’t know I asked you to go to Victor’s today.”

“I was…” Beca pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I was just having dinner there. They recognized me.”

“Oh? Having dinner by yourself? How was the food?”

“Fine,” Beca murmurs quickly, avoiding the first question deftly. “I didn’t have to bring this back, you know? You need to pick better fronts,” she points out, daring to show defiance for just a few seconds. She’s kind of banking on her father still being in a good mood.

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“No,” Beca responds quietly. Obediently. “It was just unexpected.”

“The price to pay when everybody wants a slice of the pie and we’re only just too willing to accommodate.”

Beca grimaces. She hates this aspect of their relationship. Whenever her father attempts to impress upon her the nobility of what they do. Or the respect they command. It makes her nauseous and ill to even entertain the thought of doing this for the rest of her life. She cannot envision it — not for herself and not for anybody she happens to be friends with.

Not that she has many friends. Less friends means less stakes in the long run.

“Anyway, that was all.”

“You should stay the night. I’ll have Beatrice make you up some breakfast tomorrow. It’s late anyway.” His eyes flash up at her. “Unless you have somewhere else you’d rather be?”

Beca schools her expression carefully as her mind quickly fills with images of fingertips trailing up her arm, down her side, across her tattoos. Delicate sighs. Desperate kisses.

Kind, bright blue eyes and a trusting expression.

“No,” she murmurs. “Nowhere.”

 * * * * *

 “Was that okay?” Beca asks expectantly, searching her mother’s eyes for positive reassurance. “I got all the notes right.”

Her mother’s lips twitch though they still rest in a gentle smile. “My dear,” she says gently. “It’s not about just getting the notes right. Your hands and your heart need to be in concert with each other.”

Beca’s brow furrows, a pout gracing her lips. “In concert?” she echoes.

Slowly, her mother takes Beca’s wrists and places her hands back on the piano. “Try again, but play from the heart. Nothing beautiful ever comes from following the rules.”

fin chapter 2 |  AO3

[op-peccatori]

autoc(rat) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice (and Ratatouille?)

Pairing: Reader & rat!Victor | chef!Victor

Rating: General

Word Count: 1275

Summary: Victor remains the same no matter what size he comes in.

Warnings/tags: alternate universe, chef!Victor, chef!Reader, and can’t cook!Writer, inspired by Ratatouille...the  movie

a/n: this idea came to me and gave me an excuse to rewatch one of my favourite movies~ 

“I need plates!” 

“Is the sauce ready?”

“One soupe à l’oignon, one salade niçoise!”

Not quite used to the organized chaos around you, it’s with a slight wince that you drag your focus back to skinning the tomatoes. Kiki’s cheerful humming reaches you as she comes near your station, grabbing the bottle of wine Willow had left on the counter.

You’re confident enough when it comes to cooking, but admittedly far from perfect—which just won’t do. Sure enough, you’re wincing again as your hair suffers for your wandering mind.

“Too thick. Stop daydreaming, you’ll ruin the dish. Thinner.” There’s a slight pause, filled with the soft, rhythmic sounds of your knife hitting the chopping board. “Yes, good.” 

A small, unbidden smile curls along your mouth at the praise. 

“The zucchini.” 

You reach for the mandoline, slicing the yellow zucchini, then the green. Once the eggplant is done, the low-pitched voice of your mentor drifts down once more.

“The saucier should be nearly done with the sauce. If he’s messed with my recipe…” The warning is clear. 

Unable to help it, you tilt your head to the side, catching your reflection in the glass window, and that of your helper. Eyes reminiscent of stormy skies glower at nothing in particular, and then over at Lucien’s station, where he is indeed working on the sauce. 

You would be afraid—you should be afraid, for he has the wrath of Zeus and his pettiness too—if it weren’t for the physical signs of his ire. Because a pissed off Victor means: little whiskers, quivering with vexation, his tiny nose twitching with constant feedback from the rich scents in the room, and his beady eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

It doesn’t exactly make you scream with terror. Even so, you know to keep your thoughts to yourself, because the last time you had mocked him, you were stuck cleaning your bedroom for a while. 

You will never forget waking up to the sight of him perched on your chin, staring down at you with a menacing gleam in his beady eyes. 

He tugs at your hair, impatient, and you make your way over to Lucien’s station, passing by Willow arguing with Minor, who had just come back with a new order. 

“No, Willow, I didn’t mishear! He really did order coke and pepsi. Mixed.”

Victor’s ears twitch at the words, followed by a quiet mutter of something terribly uncharitable.

He can be a bit high-strung. Thankfully, a trip to the supermarket is usually enough to appease any bristling; you avoid angering him anyway, because those trips are terrible for your wallet. 

According to the rodent himself, Victor grew up in the sewers and whatever kitchens he could find. You’re not sure how that experience turned him into one of the biggest food snobs you’ve ever met—and you work in the food industry—but it’s probably for the best, since it contributes to his brilliance with cooking.

Still, him turning his bulbous nose up at the cheese you’d been eating for years did sting. He also forced you to clean out half of the ingredients in your refrigerator and bullied you into buying fancy cheeses you’d never even tasted before.

“Well, well,” he says now, peering down from your head at the bowl Lucien presents to you. “That doesn’t look half-bad.”

“I wouldn’t dare mess around with y/n’s dish,” Lucien responds evenly, offering you a quick wink as you take the bowl. 

“Thank you, Lucien.” If your tone is a tad warmer than usual, it’s between the two of you. Well, three, you amend hastily as Victor digs his feet into your scalp lightly.

“I told you, you can’t give him the time of day until he passes the test,” Victor hisses at you, glaring back when Lucien waves. 

“No one is ever going to match your standards for cooking,” you mutter, spooning some of the sauce into the pan. 

“Certainly not him,” he sniffs, watching over you as you arrange the sliced vegetables in the pan. He’s careful to not tug on your hair when you slide the dish into the oven.

“But he’s cute,” you whisper plaintively, watching Lucien chop some very lucky carrots. Not that you want to be chopped up, but he does handle his ingredients well. 

“Is that why you’re staring at his hands?” 

“They’re beautiful hands.”

“I suppose his chopping skills are up to par,” Victor muses, whiskers twitching as he thinks. “Better than yours, at least.”

“Maybe you should sit on his head,” you suggest cheerfully.

“I’m pretty sure he’d cook me,” he says flatly, and you both have to wince at that. He may be a tiny jerk, but Victor is a dear friend. You’ve developed some very protective tendencies over the course of your friendship, what with every other cat looking to take a bite out of him.

The neighbour’s cat, Hades, has been something of a nightmare. As a result, you’ve also developed fantastic reflexes and a strained relationship with Helios, the cat’s owner.

“What do you want for dinner tonight? I was thinking quiche,” Victor thinks aloud, examining his claws critically. His coat, as always, is dark and glossy. People are skeptical enough due to what he is, there’s no need to give them more reason to doubt him, he says.

Somehow, though, throughout all of this, you’ve also been spoiled to bits.

“Y/n?”

Getting to eat such wonderful food everyday? It’s a blessing. 

“Y/n.” 

If only things could stay this way forever.

“Wake up, you dummy.”

With a choked gasp, you sit bolt upright, looking around wildly. It takes a moment for you to reorient; you’re in the kitchen, you place of work. You had been in the middle of cleaning up and then—

The back of a hand touches your forehead, and your panicked eyes follow the length of a long arm before coming to rest on a familiar face. 

“A fever,” he murmurs, kneeling next to where you seemed to have collapsed on the floor. “Why did you not inform me?”

The Chef de Cuisine, Victor Li, whose kitchen you had joined about a month ago, frowns down at you. Victor, who had just made a frankly bizarre appearance in your dream.

You study him carefully, your hazy mind imagining whiskers wiggling over his perfect cheekbones. He raises a single, sculpted brow in response. 

“I was supposed to be cleaning up…” you recall, looking around nervously. You had managed to clean up most of the kitchen before you had apparently blacked out, but there are a few dishes left next to the sink.

“Yes, I know,” he says, patient, before standing up and offering you a hand. You take it with a little trepidation, expecting meticulously groomed claws instead of blunt fingernails. “Go wait outside, I’ll finish up in here and give you a ride home.”

Left to gape as he turns to the sink, you flail your arms and sputter in protest. Your throbbing head offers its own protest. “No! I mean—I can do it, I’m so sorry—” 

He presses one, slender index finger to his lips, and the words die in your throat. He points the same finger at the doors, where the moonlight peers in through the two circular windows.

“I...okay,” you grab your bag and head for the exit, shoulders slumped. Still, you can’t accept a ride home, knowing it’ll be way out of his way.

“If you leave, you’ll be on scrubbing duty for a whole week.” The borderline peremptory words are eerily reminiscent of the ones from your dream.

They’re oddly comforting.

“Yes, chef,” you call back, trying not to smile.

being able to type the words ‘rat!Victor’ gave me so much joy

[samaramin]

INTRODUCING: Samar “Sam” Amin

“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.”

THE BASICS

Full Name: Samar “Sam” Victor Amin Age: twenty-six Birthday: April 20th, 1995 Zodiac Sign: Aries Occupation: Tattoo Shop Assistant at Tatt’s All Length of Time in Crescent Harbor: all his life Neighborhood: Goldfinch Valley, currently resides in @lilywhittaker​’s house Hometown: Crescent Harbor, Washington Nationality: American, his mother was from France originally, his father is of Indian descent Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single, not looking Qualities: creative, loyal, fearless, passionate, playful Flaws: impulsive, hot-headed, reckless, selfish, withdrawn MBTI: ENFP-T “The Turbulent Campaigner” Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good Enneagram: Type 7 “The Enthusiast”

Y’all have met my sweet son John, get ready to meet my chaos son Sam! He’s a little careless and broody sometimes but usually a pretty chill guy with a lot of trauma to unpack – or in his case, to keep locked away forever because what even are emotions. He’s doing his best to find his purpose in life but as the son of a influential founding family heir that seems easier said than done.

THE FAMILY SITUATION

tw: death, armed robbery

Sam was born into an influential founding family of Crescent Harbor and has never really left the town, aside from a few trips to France to see his mother’s side of the family and go on vacations. That stopped when his mother was killed in a rather tragic event, an armed robbery that had never been resolved. While his father, Rohan Amin, has never had a very loving relationship with his sons, always a little absent and therefore distant, he’s tried his best to keep the family together but sometimes it seems like you can’t fix what’s already been broken into pieces for years and years before. When it comes down to it, Sam cares about his father and half-brother but he doesn’t like to show it - whether that’s due to the fact that he blames his dad for his mothers sudden passing or he feels like they remind him of her too much is something he’s still trying to work out himself.

THE LOOKS

Faceclaim: Avan Jogia Height: 5'8’’ Hair Color/Length: dark and wavy, usually worn long or tied up in a messy bun when it bothers him. Facial Hair: Sam thinks he looks like a baby when he’s clean shaven so he usually sports as much stubble as he can. Eyes: brown Complexion: clear, warm undertones, usually has dark circles under his eyes due to not sleeping much Body: Athletic. While Sam can be terribly lazy, he usually moves around town quite a bit. Whether he’s skating or riding his boke, he’s pretty active that way. Style: Sam doesn’t really care about whatever “rules” there might be to fashion. He wears what he likes and thinks is fun, even if it doesn’t match the occasion. He likes to shop second hand and isn’t scared of things that seem a little too out there to be worn by anyone really - he likes to take a risk, even if it doesn’t feel like it to him. Some might call his style eccentric, he just calls it his own. Smells Like: Cigarette smoke, energy drinks and clean out of the shower - unless you meet him out and about skating on a hot summer’s day. In that case, sorry in advance.

THE STORY

tw: death, armed robbery

Sam was born and raised in Crescent Harbor and doesn’t really know anything else.

He gets out to Seattle quite a bit to party or just a change of scenery but other than that, he rarely ventures further away.

He wants to get out of the town so badly but at the same time not badly enough to actively work on finding a way out, as in he likes to talk shit about the town and its people but it is his home at the end of the day and he’ll get defensive (don’t ask me)

Even though he’d have the funds to move out (thanks Sam’s dad!), he hasn’t yet, mostly because his father isn’t home most of the time anyways and it allows Samar to stick around comfortably. He’s working on getting a place for himself though, preferably with roommates because he hates being alone with his thoughts for even a second but also can’t stand being around his father, despite the fact that he’s not even doing anything bad but my boy just doesn’t like being told what to do and he has nothing to say to him as their relationship is a little rocky

That’s mostly because he assumes that his father has some questionable ties to businesses all across the country and Sam is convinced that his side hustles have something to do with the fatal armed robbery in which his mother lost her life

He never asked his dad about it, so he can’t know for sure - his father’s also not a bad person just terrible distant and overwhelmed with the fact that he suddenly had to raise his two boys on his own.

Sam misses his mother every single day and suffers from her loss, though he rarely talks about it if at all. He only has a few people he talks to about it - but most of the time, he’ll gloss over it.

Sam also has a half-brother he’s got a kind of rocky relationship with but ultimately, he’d do anything for him! (this is an open connection *wink-nudge*)

Deep down he cares deeply about the people close to him but has a hard time showing them or letting them know. He’s trying though and even though he’s moody and has a hard time with grey areas, Sam tries not to see the world in black and white all the time

He’s very sociable and kind when he has to be, he likes being around people unless he wants to lock himself away for days on end just to sulk. Sometimes he’ll pick fights but not as much as he used to - that’s the only aspect in life where he mellowed out though.

Even though he was a horrible student, Samar likes learning new skills and is good at a lot of them, even if he doesn’t quite realize. He likes to skate, play the guitar, sometimes he even writes random lyrics, sketches or reads, though he’s usually too restless for that and sticks to the more active hobbies he has.

Sadly, he’s not exactly scared of getting into trouble still. His carelessness often gets in the way when he’s taking the concept of Hedonism a little too far which leaves him with making reckless decisions that he doesn’t really regret – to him it’s all about learning from his experiences. Or not learning anything from them at all which usually ends up in a repetition of that same mistake in an endless loop.

He’s aware of his privilege but also tends to get a little too into the “woe is me” zone occasionally. He appreciates it when he gets snapped out of it though.

He is also pretty generous, since he doesn’t really care about money, even if it doesn’t seem that way. If you need money or someone to buy you a drink? Sam’s your guy and he’ll do it, no questions asked.

All in all he’s a good guy who’s really just trying to figure himself out and wants to find a place for him in the world in the midst of all the chaos but so far, he’s not been too lucky.

I’m currently working on a connections page but if you’d like to plot or connect him with your muses, just throw your ideas at me and we can figure something out!

I’m also currently reworking his bio a little to tweak some things. Until then, you can find his rather outdated one here and some more musings here. 💕

[aion-rsa]

Why You Should Watch Young Royals

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains some spoilers for Young Royals. 

WIth an overabundance of teenage-oriented romance shows on television at the moment, it can be hard to conjure up a reason to watch yet another one. Every streaming service seems to have something in the genre to fit a need, whether that be a gay protagonist, a female hero, or an ensemble cast. It’s very difficult to stand out amongst the crowd because there are very few places left untapped in exploring adolescent life styles. 

Enter Young Royals, a Swedish-produced LGTBQ romance drama that was released on Netflix at the beginning of July. When Prince Wilhelm (Edvin Ryding) is sent to boarding school by the Queen after getting in some trouble at a nightclub, he feels out of his element and overwhelmed with expectations. His only reprieve from the rigidity of this environment comes when he meets Simon (Omar Rudberg), a kind and charismatic child of an immigrant mother. 

Prince Wilhelm and Simon’s burgeoning relationship eventually turns into one of the most evocative and explorative love stories in contemporary queer TV. A keen understanding from the writers and actors of what can make a show like this stand out amongst a repetitive crowd of competitors is what will hopefully lead to enough viewership for many more seasons. Here are some more reasons you should watch Young Royals.

The Teenagers Actually Look and Behave Like Teenagers

Far too often the young people in coming-of-age entertainment vehicles look, act, and feel a little too mature for actual teens to relate to on any sort of deeper level. The actors who are casted infamously have birth dates well before the people they are portraying on-screen (Darren Barnet, who plays 16 year old Paxton Hall-Yoshida on Mindy Kaling’s hit series Never Have I Ever, is a whopping 13 years older than his character!) Not only does this force an unrealistic standard of beauty on the viewers to live up to, it also breaks up the immersive quality that truly great TV possesses to transport us to different worlds that connect to our own.

Edvin Ryding is 18 and Omar Rudberg is 22. With faces spotted with pimples and makeup sparsely used to mask other superficial blemishes on the actors, the people in this show seem like they could show up at any secondary school in your neighborhood and fit right in. This provides an authenticity to the storytelling that you simply don’t get with the majority of teen romance media. Perhaps the reason for such realism is because European filmmakers strive for higher artistic standards when filming, shunning the degrading expectations of sexiness and maturity that directors in the United States have grown obsessed with. Whatever the reasoning behind it is, the show’s casting is a breath of fresh air. 

The Story Skips the Often-Redundant Coming Out Journey

I want to start by getting one thing very clear: the coming out journey is one of the most important tropes used in LGBTQ movies and television; I wrote a whole essay on how Love, Victor’s exquisite and heartfelt depiction of this plot point helped me come out of the closet in my own life. When done properly, this storyline can be both inspirational and important to the young queer community. The problem is that far too often the coming out process is the only focus, and all of the other dynamics of gay teenage life get shelved and under-examined. 

Young Royals gives you a negligible amount of hand-holding when it comes to spelling out the sexuality of the two protagonists: Simon mentions in one conversation with his dad that he is gay, and Wilhelm’s own musings are so focused on the former that we know immediately how smitten he is with his charming classmate. There is a little bit of internal denial from Wilhelm when he tells Simon he “isn’t like that” after they share an awkward first kiss, but we know he’s kidding neither us nor his lover. 

The intense romantic energy is so new, raw, and real that there is no need for anybody to come out; it’s obvious that these two are gay as hell for each other and that discovery is absolutely beautiful. As mentioned, though, Wilhelm is a part of a royal family and publicly coming out as a celebrity is a whole different topic that the show sets up nicely for in a possible second season.

Sexual Expression is Explored on an Emotional Level

The show is rated TV-MA, but it can’t possibly be for nudity or graphic sexual expression. The passion between Wilhelm and Simon is certainly physical to an extent, but the little things, the tiny moments of young love are so much more meaningful than watching two actors maul one another like wild animals or porn stars. Short kisses in the forest, holding hands while watching a movie, and dropping off a quick breakfast in class are all amongst the enviable acts of emotional desire that are displayed from the characters. 

TV shows rarely understand what actual love looks like in the real world. It isn’t always 12 hours spent in the bedroom or excessive PDA in front of classmates and family. It’s what two people feel about each other that words can’t possibly describe. It’s an emotion that bonds a couple into one. Wilhelm tells Simon when professing his love midway through the season that nothing in his life feels real except for how he feels about him (a line improvised by Edvin Ryding). That’s so much more than a one-night stand or a cheap hookup and it’s something every other teen rom-com should learn from and aspire to emulate.    

A Delicate Discussion on Classism in Relationships 

A melancholy sticking point in the relationship between Wilhelm and Simon is their difference in social class. Wilhelm is the second-in-line to the throne of Sweden while Simon is the poor son of an immigrant mother who cannot afford to live on campus at the boarding school the characters attend. When the two boys are together, money and celebrity status become irrelevant. It’s an absolutely beautiful give and take where both kids get to learn how attraction has nothing to do with societal expectations and pressures, but keeping a relationship definitely does. 

When their love affair gets leaked in a sex tape á la Kim Kardashian, Wilhelm is expected to hide his sexuality and his desire for someone low on the social ladder. The way both young men work together to figure out a common ground solution is simultaneously touching and heartbreaking, as homophobia within the Swedish Kingdom makes the love forbidden and creates the main tension in the finale’s climax. Classism is such an underutilized topic in romance stories and Young Royals does a great job finding that fine line between forcing the issue and exploring it thoroughly. 

A Small, Strong Cast

Many shows that follow a romance struggle to give equal screen time to both parties. It can be tempting to flesh out the main protagonist more fully than divide attention among both characters. If you add in supporting roles around the couple it can get really flimsy in the hands of a shoddy screenwriting team. 

This show only has three true supporting roles: August, Sara, and Felice. This leaves plenty of material for both Wilhelm and Simon to be equals in spite of the central focus being on Wille. When you get to see the POV of each person independent of the other, it becomes a much richer experience and you are more easily able to sympathize with both young men instead of taking sides during a conflict. Their personal lives, especially their unique family dynamics help inform the audience about the romance. By the end of the six episodes, you feel like Wilhelm and Simon are amongst your own social circle because you know them intimately. That just doesn’t happen with most coming-of-age series. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

All six episodes of Young Royals season 1 are available to stream on Netflix now.

The post Why You Should Watch Young Royals appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3hzINwo

[saltypicks]

reviewing may’s comebacks (in june, because i have shit to do)

There were a lot of comebacks this month. I guess it's summer now? No idea, there's no summer in my country. The girl groups have started coming back in full force but are not impressing. The boy groups seemed to mostly go the groovy route and now I need an adjective other than 'groovy' to describe songs.

Not The End, Highlight

I'm so glad it's not a ballad. It's not bad.

You are so beautiful, SGO

Everyday I'm grateful for the retro trend and this is a great representation.

Gray Area, Hi Cutie

At some sections I like this song (the verses and the chorus) and at others I dislike it (the trap breakdown, the middle of the chorus). I complained about MAJORS' company having no money previously but Hi Cutie's company is bankrupt. Poor nugus.

Dreamcatcher and GWSN have far superior 'Red Suns' but this song is okay and I'm happy the girls look so happy to have some work (and hopefully some money) at last.

Today, CITI

A nice midtempo song. And no, I did not hear it first from a drama OST.

Make Up Your Mind, AILEE

Sounds like a Beyonce-type song.

MALO, SHAX

Apparently this is a drama OST (Imitation, to be specific. It's based on a webtoon). Basic boy group song but it sounds like it's from the 2010s or something, and that's a compliment.

Hot Sauce, NCT Dream

Initially: Um...at least Renjun looks good? Honestly I don't know what to say about this song. NCT is a group I stan so this will definitely grow on me but...is this really not an advertisement for hot sauce? Also the set resembles the set for SHINee's Atlantis in my opinion. Now: The shouting is annoying and unnecessary. Love Chenle's voice in this; it provides a nice contrast to Haechan and Renjun. Someone said the chanting should've been left to the rappers and I fully agree. Don't know about Jisung and Jaemin but Jeno and Mark would be a good fit with a chant. In my opinion the dance break isn't really needed but is it NCT without a dance break? Also, wtf are they wearing around their necks? Someone should inform the SM stylists that less is really more.

DUN DUN DANCE, OH MY GIRL

It's light and pleasant but if this song was a meal it would be a tiny appetizer that tastes good but doesn't satiate you.

WHATEVER, KEEMBO

I didn't think I'd like it at first but this is groovy and makes me want to dance while doing my chores.

Always, VAV

Song for the fans but if you need a VAV song to listen to I recommend Gorgeous.

Hurt, Baekhyun & Seomoontak

Hasn't Baekhyun been shipped off to the army yet? Anyway, love how dramatic this is.

Waiting for Victor, 015B ft. Dawon

Another great retro song! Also the singer is cute and her hair is cute as well. She reminds me of Chuu a little.

Uncertainty Principle, 015B ft. Dawon

I prefer their other song, but this one is retro as well and it's great.

척하면 척, 강혜연 (Kang Hyeyeon)

Trot that's kind of subdued but still danceable.

Badly, SURA

Loved it from the first second.

BLACK MIRROR, ONEUS

Then: Is it good enough to make up for No Diggity? I don't know about that, but this song is groovy and I'm somewhat okay with it. Doesn't have much replay value for me though. Now: Eh, it's basic groovy boy group song but I won't skip if it comes on.

Breathe Again, BLITZERS

Another boy group with a somewhat questionable name. This song is pretty good as a debut and it's somewhat memorable. I wonder if my rating increeased because of the guitars? District 9 was the same for me, but right now it doesn't interest me. I think this song will stay for a good while on my playlist though. I like the anthemic vocals in the chorus and this song needed more of that.

EASY, WJSN THE BLACK

The girls looked good but the storyline kept getting interrupted by shots of the girls. Yes, we know they're all visuals but I'd be more interested if there was actual action and plot. The song is good objectively but doesn't really interest me. Who knows? Maybe a few more listens will change my mind.

Outerspace (ft. Loco), Kang Daniel

Groovy and better than his last two releases.

Giant, Yuqi

So nice to hear Yuqi's voice on its own. The song was fine until the chorus crushed all my love for it.

Glass of Tears, HONG JA

Appropriately dramatic for a song named 'glass of tears'. It's good and if you like trot you'll like this one.

Taste of Life, Yang Ji Eun

What do you call this? Folk trot? Whatever it's called, it's good.

LOOK AT ME, ICU

OK.

WE GO, fromis_9

It sounds like the token girl group summer song. I don't dislike it, but nothing about this song stands out to me. Honestly with a mini-album called '9Way Ticket' I expected more, because it reminds me of Nine Muses' Ticket everytime I see it. The b-side 'Airplane Mode' is pretty good though and the other one, 'Promise' is a slow song but I don't really mind it, it's fine as background music.

Next Level, aespa

Umm...what is SM's plan for these girls? How can a rookie group from the big 3 have only 3 songs? And only one is an original? The song is not the best thing ever and SM surely can do better but at least it wasn't as bad as M.A.F.I.A. aespa deserves more than this.

Ring Ring, ROCKET PUNCH

Finally after Bim Bam Bum these girls have a title track I enjoy. You can't go wrong with covering Take On Me, can you? It's no Platonic Love or Sea of Moonlight, and it certainly could have done without the rubbish trap section but it's a bop anyway. Meanwhile, the b-side Ride is great and I hope they promote it. This song would be more enjoyable if their voices weren't so shrill in the chorus. High notes aren't a necessity for good songs.

Advice, Taemin

Not the best of Taemin but it's good. I love the fast tempo of the piano and the way it drives everything. Taemin's performance also elevates this song and I'm grateful he's leaving us with a good song before going on his two-year vacation.

RUB-A-DUM, TRI.BE

They're really going all out with this 'tribe' thing, aren't they? It sounds very Middle Eastern to my ears at times, sometimes it sounds African-ish and the other times it is just typical trap kpop. DOOM DOOM TA was better and more fun. At least they got the catchy catchphrase right. Blackpink in your area who? Tri-bee da loca! The b-side 'LORO' is not much fun either. The only difference is it's Latin-influenced.

Shadow, Dreamcatcher

Typical Dreamcatcher song slowed down by a lot. It's not bad, plus it's nice to hear Dami sing. Also what is it with Korea and zombies? With the MV the song sounds a lot better but the MV distracts me. Shouldn't zombies be mindless? How do they use tools and know martial arts? Or is it just my eyes? And can that tiny gun protect anybody? Are you sure that's not a toy?

The beginning of spring, E'LAST U

Not horrible but not for me either.

Oh MAMA, BLING BLING

One of the few new ggs in a while with unfortunate names. They've clearly upgraded in terms of styling and MV budget, but their song quality is no different.

Let Me Know, PIXY

Sonically it sounds nothing like their dark concept. Actually it does sound like a dark concept, if done by a boy group. It's not bad but it's not good. The industrial-like sounds in the back are interesting but the whole song is not.

Son of Beast, TO1

TOO rebrands as TO1 with this song. It's groovy.

HAPPEN, Heize

For the first time I like a Heize song. The MV is interesting too, the story was cliche but I liked the visuals and aesthetics.

FEVER, ENHYPEN

Rhis song was from the [BORDER: CARNIVAL] mini. I listened to that mini but I remember not really liking any of the b-sides except the outro and the intro, so this is a surprise.

My Flower, Kim Jaehwan

Nice upbeat song with guitars all over it. I like it.

Corazon Perdido, Yesung (Super Junior)

Initially I wasn't going to review this because I didn't even review the title track but the final moments of this song are beautiful and it deserves a mention.

Butter, BTS

The song is smooth as its title. The MV is fine except for that ARMY thing; I cringed so hard.

Bonnie and Clyde, Yuqi

Better than the other one.

Ride, ROCKET PUNCH

This is so great and I'm glad it got its own video, even if it was just a dance video glorified as a 'Special Stage'. Now if only I could stop chuckling whenever I hear "looks rike a lainbow".

Rush Hour, GAHO

Love it, especially the guitar strumming moments and the chorus when the electric guitar comes in.

GEMINI, AB6IX

Love how the vocals don't distract from the great instrumental.

FIRST, EVERGLOW

In a comment section someone said La Di Da was a fluke and I kind of agree. Everglow returns to their usual style (chanty chorus + catchy riff repeated over and over) and this song is in the same vein as Adios. I like the chorus but the rest of the song is hard to recall. Siyeon, Aisha and Yiren are the only ones who actually look good and EU needs more lines and her blonde hair back. Also why does kpop think that moving the camera around a lot creates the illusion of motion? All it does is make me dizzy.

Like It Hot, GWSN

Sometimes I like GWSN title tracks, and sometimes I don't. I don't think much of this song, but their album is great.

Je T'aime, Joy

I love you Joy but this is boring. If it was meant to be a lullaby then SM succeeded.

Burned All Black, Kim Jaehwan

His other song is a ballad which is somewhat pleasant. Well, it was until it slowed down in the first chorus.

Purple, woo!ah!

Still not one song from woo!ah! I like.

GGOMA, Tae Ho (IMFACT) and Choi Ye Geun

Loved Choi Ye Geun's Scarecrow so I was happy to see her again. The song is groovy but the chorus sounds somewhat...empty? Love the scat at the end, should've been longer. This is also a great example of a bright boy group song. See? Upbeat and bright boy group concepts don't have to be childish.

DIAMOND, Sparkling

Another Imitation OST. I honestly doubt that there are actual kpop songs as bad as this.

7days Tension, Weeekly

Ad song. Bright and the chorus is nice.

0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You), TXT feat. Seori

The angsty opening line caught my attention, then the verse after it dropped the energy. It picked up again in the chorus and pre-chorus, thankfully. It's very much pop rock, except there are no guitars in this. Doesn't stop the song from being good though.

Hello, Joy

I love Joy's voice as always but this song doesn't do much for me even though it's upbeat. A few more listens might change my mind.

Call Me, Omega III

Another Imitation OST. Doesn't do much for me, just like all the Imitation MVs. At least let us understand what your drama is about. Instead we get these random shots of what idols are supposed to be like? I don't know much about idol life but it's obvious these girls would be called nugus in real life, and I honestly doubt nugus have such nice living conditions.

No Answer, LA LIMA

Jiyeon from T-Ara is on this one. This and MALO are my favourites from the Imitation OST so far. The song is nice with a sleek catwalk vibe to it but like the rest the MV is boring.

Show Me, Tea Party

Are these the Omega III girls? Not sure but I think so. MV still boring, song doesn't interest me.

Let me go!, The Volunteers

Great rock song, I just wonder why it's all in English (I'm not complaining).