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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

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last christmas, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Last Christmas, she gave you her heart, wrapped up with a note saying, I love you. She meant it. This Christmas, you give her back the stuff she left at your place and run into her next-door neighbor that knew all about your love. Somehow, you end up explaining why it went wrong.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of previous w/w relationship; pansexual reader; mentions of bad parents and discrimination / prejudice; reader def needs a therapist and Jeon Jungkook is not a therapist; JK is also reader's ex-gf's next-door neighbor; pining; awk tension; I cannot shut up about JK's big peepers; smut (fem reader, a lot of making out [both lips and bodies], light scratching, so much grinding, cowgirl); motorcycle-owning!JK takes you on a ride, whee

inspired by Wham!'s 'Last Christmas'; you are the shitty ex, don't read this unless you're okay with that and, yes, some decisions are made

You handed the bag over.

“This is it.”

“T… Thanks.”

The cold stung your cheeks. Around your neck was a dark green and black plaid scarf, thick layers shielding your heart that was exposed to the winter thanks to your open parka. Your hands returned to their tucked position in your fleece-lined pockets. You smiled, ever so slightly.

“You look pretty. The short hair suits your face well.”

She reached up to touch the tips of the chin-length bob, wispy front bangs framing her gentle eyes, not quite looking at you. You noticed her short nails were painted a light shimmery gold, suiting the holiday season. Her lips pursed and she breathed in deeply, looking straight into your eyes.

“Don’t say stuff like that. We’re not together anymore,” she said decisively.

“Ah… right.”

You left the smile on your face.

Right, because you could no longer compliment a person after dating them and then breaking up with them. Rules of some code apparently you didn’t get the memo for. The breeze whipped around your body, chilling moments as you stood at the doorstep of your former lover, feeling a strange kind of satisfaction seeing in her shiver in her fuzzy cream sweater and fleece pajama pants, complete with ivory fur slippers. But those thoughts were cruel to think and so was the bitterness.

She glanced at you.

You felt bad, seeing the glisten in her eyes.

In a box labelled donations in your apartment, there was a knit scarf, checkered peach and cream, the note included long gone, probably in a trashcan. Last Christmas, that scarf had been in silvery wrapping paper with a white silk ribbon, the package shaking in her hands and accompanied by a nervous smile, handed over for you to open, seeing the note first and then the handmade gift.

I love you above the handiwork of love.

It wasn’t the very next day, but you were still giving it away.

“I hope you have a nice holiday,” you said, bowing lightly.

“A-Ah, yeah,” she stuttered, clutching the brown bag of the few sweaters and joggers she had left at your apartment, all laundered and folded neatly the way she usually folded them. You had remembered, and this would be the last time you needed to remember how to delicately tuck sweaters into themselves like cake rolls. “I’m going to see my mom and dad. You should…” And she trailed off, knowing full well you weren’t going to see your parents. “You should eat something nice.”

You nodded.

Smile.

“I will. Take care.”

You took a step back and bowed again, taking your graceful exit from the front porch of that apartment that you would never walk into again.

You headed for the stairs, being careful when it came to the snow-slicked stone steps. Good thing your black boots had sturdy, thick treads. You reached back and pulled the hood of your parka up, fleece blanketing your head and ears, instantly warming your cold hair. It was already getting dark. You barely saw the sun these days, with work and all. There was something nice about the winter evening though, not as thick as the humid summer nights. Crisp and chilly, sure, but maybe you could argue that was all you were anyway.

Shit, holding a pity party for yourself? That’s rich.

The voice was inner self-loathing was nice and loud tonight, huh.

You heard your name being called from the garage at the bottom of the stairs. You looked up to see a familiar resident of these apartments.

Your ex-girlfriend’s next-door neighbor, in fact.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He smiled and waved, jogging over, something large and round under his arm. Black leather jacket, his gloves matching his jacket. Black jeans. Heavy-duty boots. You took a couple steps towards him, and then you spied the parked motorcycle, and finally recognizing that it was a motorcycle helmet he was holding. The sweater underneath with the somewhat tacky, bright red-and-white candy cane print didn’t quite match the rest of his ensemble.

He looked down when he realized you were staring at his chest and laughed. “Ah, yeah, I came back from a work party. Christmas lunch before we go on break. Theme was ugly sweaters.”

You blinked. “You could have tried harder.”

He grinned. “Yeah, my co-worker Jimin said that too, but I told him he was ugly enough for us both.”

You shook your head with a sheepish smile as the young man looked way too proud of himself burning someone who wasn’t even here to defend themselves. Well, supposedly he burned them publicly already. Poor Jimin. You had never met this Park Jimin Jungkook occasionally talked about, but they seemed to have a brotherly friendship, complete with Jungkook providing shithead younger brother quips.

“I haven’t seen you around lately,” Jungkook said, tilting his head.

Oh. Right.

You pointed up and prepared yourself to say it again and again until everyone knew.

“We broke up.”

“Oh…” His expression fell, big round brown eyes and the downturn of his lips. Man, Jeon Jungkook looking sad was not something you realized you needed to brace yourself for until now. It almost made you sad seeing his expression. “I’m sorry to hear that. I liked watching movies with you two, since you like Marvel stuff.”

You chuckled. “I’m not banned from going to the theater. I can still go to opening nights with you, if you want.”

He scratched his cheek, nodding slowly. “She wouldn’t feel weird seeing you with me?” he asked.

Oh.

Right.

If it was only you and Jeon Jungkook going to the movies, then, of course, people would think certain things.

You answered him honestly.

“I don’t know.”

You didn’t need to give answers, but Jungkook was your ex’s next-door neighbor and you had made friends with the guy before she did. Would be odd, considering she had proximity on her side, but, as it turns out, she was the lesbian and you were the pansexual. She had other priorities than the man living next door. He was not that interesting to her.

You shrugged. “I don’t know how she would feel, but what’s done is done and life goes on.”

Jungkook blinked at you.

You puffed out your left cheek and then exhaled heavily. “As you can expect from my reaction, it was me who broke up with her.” You clicked your tongue. “It wasn’t her. It was me. I have issues when women try to take care of me, even if they only have good intentions.” You reached up and pushed your parka hood back, letting the cold wind pierce your skin again, eager to feel something else. “Doesn’t really happen to me when it’s men, but women? Hah... I tried to tell myself that that wasn’t it, but facts are facts. In the end, I didn’t like her anymore and it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.”

Sounded awful coming out of your mouth.

Truth was ugly.

“I thought I would feel like shit not being with her during Christmas, but actually I feel worse because I’m actually glad I’m out.”

You glanced at Jungkook, whose was staring at you with those big brown eyes. For his part, he simply accepted when you introduced his neighbor as your girlfriend back then. Didn’t pry much. It had come up in conversation about representation in movies, and you both clarified your sexualities. Jungkook’s reaction was, oh, cool. But, of course, you hadn’t specified about the differences of various romantic relationships for you personally, until now.

You winced. “Sorry. Kinda dumped all that on you.”

He shook his head quickly, his long black hair flying about like floppy puppy ears. “No, no. It’s okay. Have you talked to anyone about the breakup?” He held up his free hand, pulling it back a little. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. It’s just… I mean, I knew you two a little bit, so… I can listen, if you wanna say stuff.”

You opened your mouth, ready to say, yeah, I’ve talked about it, but then you realized, no, you haven’t talked to anyone about the breakup. You didn’t really have friends outside of the ones related to your previous relationship, and, well, he was standing right here. You certainly weren’t going to tell your parents about dating, least of all dating outside of the heteronormative. They already didn’t like you for various reasons and being anything but heterosexual was probably going to lead to full-on pitchforks and chasing. Not your idea of a fun Christmas, you had to admit.

Mostly because you were the one that had to do the outrunning.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his head, screwing up his face. “Uh, well, a friend much smarter than me told me once that good and bad is relative to who you’re talking to and that most of the time no one is good or bad because there are too many ways to judge.” As he spoke, his eyebrows became more knitted together in increasing confusion of unsure recollection. “Um. Something like that.”

You half-smiled. “Hm, ever considered becoming a therapist?”

Jungkook frowned, looking displeased. “Sounds complicated.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry. You would totally suck at it.”

He harrumphed. “Anyway,” he concluded gruffly, chopping the air, his Busan accent coming out with the flourishment. “I’m saying you don’t have to be sad or feel anything in particular.”

You nodded.

Awkward silence.

Jungkook suddenly perked up and pointed to his bike behind him. “Oh! Did I tell you? I got my motorcycle license over a month ago.”

No, he didn’t tell you, because at the point you had already broken up with your now-ex and stopped coming to this apartment complex. But you glossed over that detail and shook you head, cocking your chin to the metal monster. “Yours?”

He grinned, bouncing like the Energizer bunny. “Yup! Mine! I bought it as soon as I got my license. I always wanted one. Want a ride? I have an extra helmet upstairs.” He pointed up excitedly. “It’ll only take me a second to grab it.”

He knew you didn’t drive here and usually walked here from the train station because it was easier. You looked at the silver and black motorcycle and then back at him, seeing the bubbling eagerness and childlike joy in those sparkly big peepers. What the hell.

“Sure.”

He grinned.

You always liked Jungkook because he had such an expressive face.

He hurried past you and reached out to nudge your arm towards to the stairs. You stood steadfast, your head following his face as you saw his changing expression.

Time slowed.

So did Jungkook, stopping, standing beside you, his motorcycle helmet and arm in between your bodies.

You looked up at him.

Eyes connected.

Your hands lifted and you took his motorcycle helmet from him, ticking your head upstairs.

“I shouldn’t go back up there,” you softly said.

For a moment, he didn’t understand. You knew what he intended, you to follow him up to help carry the extra helmet so he had a hand free to lock the door again. But he hadn’t quite thought about why you were here in the first place, days away from Christmas, after months of not seeing you, and now the comprehension was creeping into his eyes, the wheels of his brain moving in real time right in front of you. You nodded slowly as his lips formed a small ‘o’ accompanied by quick, sharp nods as he bounded up the stone steps two at a time.

“I’ll be fast!”

“Don’t break a leg,” you scolded, rolling your eyes as he completely ignored you, but he held onto the railing, so at least he wouldn’t tumble down and squash you if he tripped.

That left you standing there in relative silence, holding Jeon Jungkook’s helmet and staring at his fairly new motorcycle, only a couple floors underneath your ex-girlfriend who you recently gave back all her things that she had left in your home, the only trace of her now being your memories that would fade in time.

You felt a bit weird, not minding too much about it.

Also felt a bit weird realizing in a few minutes you would be holding onto her next-door neighbor’s waist, your chest to his broad back.

I’m an asshole.

You sighed, remembering the apprehension you had felt embarking on this relationship. Maybe you should have listened to it, but, then again, hard to say. No one wants to believe they have issues. Also, she was quite cute and convincing at the time. Unlike in past relationships, she was already secure and didn’t make you feel ashamed about not being strictly lesbian or heterosexual. It made you think that this was right, this was how it should be, and then it started getting a little too serious.

You kept thinking, I’ll get over it.

You did not get over it.

Then you realized what you really meant was, I must get over it to prove that my shitty upbringing didn’t affect me but all I’m doing is pretending that I’m over it when I’m not.

Yeah, well.

You ended up breaking up with a nice, pretty girl that you weren’t really in love with. She had just made you feel secure because she actually accepted your sexuality, which was awesome but not enough.

So, why did you feel like a complete and total jerk, like you wasted her time, as if you weren’t worthy of it?

Don’t know.

You stared at the motorcycle in front of you.

He must feel free when riding it.

“I got the helmet!”

You didn’t even turn around when you heard Jungkook’s announcement. You were too busy transitioning out of your reflections. “Don’t you know motorcycle accidents are much more likely than car accidents?”

Jungkook popped into view, holding out the other helmet in his hands. You exchanged the one you were carrying with his, and he shrugged. “Everybody dies.”

“Morbid.”

“At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid,” he pointed out, revealing a bit of his inked skin under his leather sleeve. “Same reason I got tattoos.”

“Bet your mom loves that.”

“My mom just has to love my personality,” he laughed. “And I got defiance from her, so she’s doomed.”

You shook you head with a smile. Jungkook showed you how to put the helmet on.

“Just stay safe.”

“Don’t you mean drive safe?”

“It’s not just you on the road, dude.”

Suddenly, his hands stopped moving after you put it on. Now you were staring at Jungkook through the opening, about to close the visor, but then those brown orbs found yours. There was a strange intangible ripple between you and him. He tilted his head.

“Why are you talking as if you’re not here about to get on the bike with me?”

Everybody dies.

You pointed to the helmet. It felt heavy and odd. You were unaccustomed to the tightness. It smelled clean though. “I am. Why else would I put this thing on?”

Maybe I’m already dead because I don’t feel bad about what I did.

You wondered if you should feel bad, even though you did the right thing, even though you knew there were no real villains and heroes in this situation, even though you knew you both were only people that chose how to live their lives. How were you supposed to know if you were dragging things on or running away? The only thing you knew was that she deserved someone who really loved her as much as she loved you. It wasn’t her fault you didn’t. You just had to be honest about it.

Right?

Jungkook nodded and stuck on his helmet, fitting it snugly and climbed onto the motorcycle, unlocking it as signaling you to get on behind him.

“Hold onto me here. Set your feet there. Yeah.”

He was warm and solid and present.

He even smelled nice.

You didn’t think about it too much. What was there to think about? Life was complicated. You could spend countless hours analyzing why you made certain decisions, if they were wrong or right and in which eyes that mattered, and then all those thoughts blew away when the mechanical monster underneath you roared to life, loud and vicious and pure power wielded with skillful hands, and you held on tighter to Jungkook, startled by the sound, yet not scared for some reason.

Just fascinated as Jungkook pulled out of his parking spot and zoomed out of the garage, onto the road.

It was fuckin’ cold.

Layers of green-and-black plaid between Jungkook’s back and your sweater, shielding your racing heart, wind and speed and thrill shooting throughout your veins, the winter night flashing past, blurring streetlamps and stoplights, forgetting the cold, your hands tucked inside Jungkook’s jacket, fingers fanning over his waist and ribcage, feeling his muscles under the tacky sweater.

You closed your eyes.

At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid.

You used to think about riding a motorcycle when you were in middle school, although you had been looking at those smaller, zippy Japanese models, not a Harley-Davidson. You always assumed only loud obnoxious Americans rode that kind of stuff.

What?

Movies didn’t help.

Unfair stereotypes aside, it had been only a passing thought for you. One among many rebellious teenage desires. Cringe. That was hard to admit. But apparently for Jungkook it was a dream that he had turned into a reality and, while someone could view it in whatever negative light they wished, you saw it as walking the walk. You could respect that.

You leaned against him.

Felt the cold but there was something hot under layers of green-and-black plaid.

This is what joyride means, huh?

You were slowing down. Opened your eyes and saw Jungkook turning, seeing a parking lot and, across that, a field of white covered in a walkway of colorful lights. Oh. That was right. The park over here had put up this light display called Festival of Lights, where local artists had created wire sculptures covered in Christmas string lights which were displayed along a walkable path.

You went her last year, holding her hand.

You got off and took off your helmet, entranced by the bright twinkling displays, barely making out a gingerbread man doing a handstand.

“Wanna walk?”

You glanced at Jungkook. “What about this? Should I carry it?”

He laughed, waving to the sudden open top-box behind the seat. “Put it in here.”

You handed the helmet to him and watched in fascination. “Oh. I didn’t know there was a space to put stuff.”

He grinned. “Come on, let’s go.”

You following his bouncing jog with a loose stride, closing your fingers into your palm and remembering the feeling of his solid body in your hands only moments before. Furrowed your brows and shook your head, approaching the entrance, seeing a family several meters ahead, tired parents with a couple of loud kids pointing excitedly at a lit-up snowman holding six candy canes like Wolverine claws.

“Have you been here this year yet?”

“Ah, no,” you absentmindedly replied, seeing Santa and his reindeer. Classic, and well-done. “Haven’t had the time.”

“There’s one at the end I think you’ll like,” Jungkook was saying excitedly. “But I think the food vendors went home already. There was a hotteok truck and another one that sold roasted sweet potatoes, mmm, but maybe you can come back some other time.”

“Uh huh.”

You knocked into Jungkook’s back and bounced, vigorously shaking your head. “Ow.”

“Sorry, there’s ice. Careful.”

“Oh.”

You realized Jungkook was looking at you and you let go of his arm, not even realizing you had grabbed it out of instinct so you didn’t trip. A weird moment of muteness. You looked past him to see three chipmunks flashing in red, blue, and green scarves.

You looked up at Jungkook, who had followed your eye line to the three cuties.

“Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you ask your neighbor why I wasn’t coming over anymore?”

Those brown eyes looked away from the twinkling artificial stars to your eyes. There was a little bit a guilt. They shifted away and came back and you realized Jungkook didn’t know how to lie but he also wasn’t sure if he was about to be out of line either.

“I… I heard her crying. A lot. And it’s none of my business,” he mumbled, frowning. “My mom told me not to be nosy,” he added under his breath.

You almost snorted. “You told your mom that you were worried about the lesbian couple next door?”

Jungkook squinted at you, annoyed. “No, I told my mom that I was worried that my friend might have broken up, so I asked her if I should do anything. Something nice?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed weird especially when Black Panther: Wakanda Forever came out, and I was going to ask if you, I mean, you both were going to the midnight release but…”

The kids were yelling in the distance and you didn’t even hear them.

You were just staring at Jungkook and noticing that his ears were turning bright red.

All the adrenaline from the speed and, now, everything slammed on the brakes.

“I didn’t cry.”

He blinked slowly. “What?”

You breathed out, looking around you, at snow and lights and white, and then at Jungkook, wearing all black and that candy-cane sweater, at yourself and your dark monochrome outfit, and then you admitted it again. “I didn’t cry, and I feel kinda shitty for it.”

“Oh.”

You stepped past Jungkook and walked down the carved-out path, following footprints and hard work. He followed and you acknowledged him, looking from one festive decoration to another, admiring the creations and spinning through the inner workings of your mind. “I felt frustrated. I know sexual attraction and romantic relationships are two different things, but I wanted to believe they weren’t. I wanted to believe that enough time had passed and I was okay, but I wasn’t okay and maybe I’ll never be okay, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”

You glanced up.

Jungkook looked confused and thoughtful at the same time. “I think you said before you don’t talk to your parents?”

“Yeah. They’re assholes.”

“Oh.”

That wasn’t very descriptive so you gave a brief explanation. “They looked at me like a product they made. A child was an object that they could program to do things they weren’t able to do, like make lots of money, marry rich, and in general sacrifice all my autotomy for their every beck and call.” You shrugged. “A dog would have more grace than their child.”

“Ouch.”

“Also, they would not understand that I’m pansexual. I think I’d be shot on the spot.”

“Don’t talk to them,” he puffed heatedly.

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement. “And, yeah, I’m sure that kind of upbringing affected my romantic relationships.” And lots of other things, but that wasn’t the point right now.

“Everybody goes through stuff like that.”

You looked at him.

Jungkook shrugged. “My last girlfriend said all I care about is myself and there’s a reason why all my friends are older than me and called me irresponsible, selfish, and childish.”

“Are you?”

He frowned. “I don’t think so? I do the dishes and always fold my laundry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only fold?”

“Okay, sometimes I leave it on the table for a little while,” he grumbled.

You chuckled. “How long ago was this?”

“Um, couple years ago? Maybe five?”

“You were barely an adult,” you commented, seeing a face-down figure with white hair in a bun and something that looked suspiciously like deer tracks on the back of that red coat. Uh. You decided not to comment and move on. “Still learning.”

“Learning to be a dick, she’d probably say now. She would tell me not to get a bike for sure.”

“Thought the whole point she was dating you was because you had a dick.”

Jungkook laughed, loud and vibrant, the lights making his cheeks glow. “Well, she’s married now so I guess she found a better one.”

“Or settled.”

“Damn, you would think you were the one who dated her,” he snickered. You could tell he was enjoying this though, those brown orbs sparkling a little too bright. There was a little bit of a jealous streak in him, you could sense. “I think I was dating the wrong kind of girl though. I think I have to date someone who shares my interests more. I like being with the person I like all the time. I don’t want them to be sick of me.”

“Mmm. I can see that. Pretty childish of you.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, nudging his side. “As long as you know you are the problem.”

He narrowed his eyes.

You grinned. “I didn’t say you weren’t a fun problem to have.”

Jungkook leaned closer, squinting harder.

You grinned wider.

Then you realized he was so close and he realized he was so close, both of you backing up at the same time. A little too fast, simultaneously darting your hands out and grabbing each other’s forearms, you grasping his right with your left hand and his right hand on your left sleeve, squeezing hard, immediately regaining balance.

You let go.

He let go.

Speed under a green-black plaid scarf, something hot and moving fast under all those layers.

“Sorry.”

“Ah, no, my fault. Sorry.”

You jerked your head towards the light displays and started walking again, trying to move past this sudden weirdness. You pointed out the various ones you liked. Yellow pill-shaped Minions decorating a Christmas tree. A curtain of lights programmed to look like falling snowflakes. Penguins sliding down a light-up hill. Slowing down. Breathing. You glanced at Jungkook.

He looked somewhat ashamed.

“Hey.”

He tilted his head, inquiring with his big eyes and pink nose. “Hm?”

“I’m glad you took me here. I don’t think I’ve done anything festive this year.”

“O… Oh.” He looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought it might be cool. Cheer you up a bit.”

“Yeah. It’s funny. A lot of people think I don’t like this season.”

You saw Jungkook rub his nose, realizing it was cold. “Huh? Why?” he asked nasally.

You glanced down at your dark color palette. “Well, you know me, I like Halloween most, but I actually enjoy Christmas quite a lot. Not because I have any particularly nice memories around it,” you mused. “Ah, I mean when I was a kid. But, I don’t know, maybe that made me appreciate the spirit of the holiday time more than all the capitalistic stuff surrounding it, since I didn’t participate much in that.”

Jungkook blinked, puzzled. “You didn’t get gifts?”

You thought about it. “Hmm, not until I was an adult and only when I was dating someone who gave gifts.”

He pursed his lips and then reached out, taking your elbow and pulling your along, to the corner.

“Come on. This can be your gift.”

You stumbled behind him, craning your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Did you watch Wakanda Forever?”

“Of course, I did. You know Black Panther is my favorite.”

“Then, look.”

Your eyes widened as the bright display of Black Panther, black lights complete with the purple highlights and signature action pose loomed among the other creations, slightly out of place because it wasn’t holiday-themed or even remotely Korean, but apparently none of that mattered and it didn’t matter to you as you admired the craftsmanship of the wire structure underneath, obvious it was specifically Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa from the violet details.

“Oh, shit. That’s sick,” you breathed, staring at the display for far too long and probably burning it into your eyeballs.

“I knew you’d like it right away.”

“That’s so random that it’s here.”

“I mean it’s not Christmas, but the movie did come out a month ago, so I guess they made an exception ‘cause it was so cool.”

“I mean this feels like Christmas to me. Put a Santa hat on him and call it a day.”

Jungkook laughed. “Okay, I’ll sneak one on in the night.”

You whipped your head to him, wiggling your eyebrows. “I mean…”

“It turns off automatically at midnight to save power…” he trailed off, putting on a scheming face.

“Would you go to jail for that? Is a Santa hat vandalism?”

“I didn’t commit a crime if I don’t get caught,” he countered.

You gave him a look. “Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”

Jungkook scrunched up his face.

“Naughty or nice depends on who’s asking.”

He stuck his little pink tongue out.

You poked the tongue tip sticking out of his lips.

Instant wet warmth on your index finger. Jungkook jumped, startled at your quick action and even you snapped back, surprised at yourself. Why had you done that? A wave of fluster, and you froze, hand hovering in the air, and Jungkook rapidly blinking, cheeks turning bright red. Silence. Couldn’t even say sorry, too stunned at your action to try to double back to apologies. Big brown eyes framed with windswept black locks, something unsaid hanging between you and Jeon Jungkook.

A casual friendship.

Kept at a fixed distance for… reasons.

Well, it had been.

Nobody was stupid, but time and place meant something.

Fast lane, not feeling the cold, racing pulse, lowering your hand, and you could feel it. You knew it was there, but time and place and all those other things.

“Sorry,” you finally said.

Jungkook’s eyes started darting in all directions. “It… It’s okay.”

“It’s kind of not. No one should be touching other people’s tongues without permission,” you pointed out.

He wasn’t really looking at you. “It’s okay… I forgive you.”

“Stop pretending I’m not a bundle of walking problems.”

Now those brown orbs finally scooting back to you.

There was no getting around that.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not a fun problem to have,” Jungkook mumbled softly.

Yeah, especially not after this irresponsible, selfish, childish guy said something like that.

There was a lot of shit you could say, but none of it seemed right. They sounded like excuses, or lame roundabouts, or too much too fast, like getting a whole sleeve of heavily-inked tattoos in a little under two years and a bigass motorbike after passing your motorcycle license exam. They sounded like feebleness in what was pretty clear, and you didn’t believe in saying something that wasn’t the truth.

“Um...”

Jungkook continued staring at you like a lost reindeer even though his nose was quite red.

You decided it was best to give a response. “Yeah?”

“You… You’re not doing anything on Christmas?” he asked.

“Ah, no. Nope, I just get a day off work.”

An extended silence.

You verbally approached very carefully. “You wanna… uh… hang out at my place?”

“Oh…” Man, this conversation sure was something. “I can bring some food and stuff. I can cook.”

“Me too.”

“You… like pork belly, right?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite.”

Good fuckin’ gracious.

You couldn’t stand it anymore and exasperatedly put your head in your hand. “Just…” You saw Jungkook peering at you, looking worried. You put your hand down, resolving yourself quite quickly. “Okay. Give me your number. I’ll text you the address.” You didn’t think about it too much. Just yanked your phone out of your inner pocket and furiously typed down the numbers that came out of Jungkook’s mouth, your frozen fingers needing to press more than once, but you eventually got there.

After you pressed send, you immediately jerked your head up and looked at those big brown eyes very seriously.

“I… We… What happens, happens,” you finally said.

Jungkook nodded determinedly. “Yeah.”

It was pretty obvious what was going to happen but, then again, there were children around.

Last Christmas you received a gift with a note that said I love you.

This year, you would receive…?

“You think Die Hard is a Christmas film?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Sure?”

The actual movie didn’t really matter. Mostly because you fell asleep on top of him and woke up to a black television screen, wrapped in a fuzzy red velvet blanket, and Jeon Jungkook staring at you in the darkness. You blinked slowly. Could barely make out his face in the faint light of the open window, seeing the shape of his parted lips, the shine of his large eyes, the waves of black hair that cradled his cheeks.

You had animated conversation over dinner, funny stories of Jungkook’s friends and viral videos you had both seen on the internet, so natural it was almost frightening, complete with weird tense moments of silence that you or he pushed along, resolute, knowing how you got here, and yet.

Chills all over despite the warmth under the blanket.

He was not wearing a tacky sweater now. Just a simple black and white plaid flannel and a white t-shirt under, paired with loose black pants. Oversized and cozy to go with your fleece red-and-black checkered long pajamas. He smelled the same as he did the other day. He didn’t bring anything with him but a large glass Tupperware of food and his motorcycle helmet, saying he forgot to leave it by his bike. His heavy black coat was hanging in the hall closet by the front door.

You stared at Jungkook, saying nothing.

Stayed close.

He leaned in.

You closed the distance.

You were pretty sure you had a soul of ice.

Then again, Jungkook had said earlier in the night that he had been told in his fortune that he had too much fire in him, so maybe it canceled out or something.

You wanted to say you had an entire, deep discussion of, is this a good idea, or perhaps even, what is courteous and respectful but also fulfills the personal desires of the very obvious between us, but there was only heavy making out and lip-locking and breathless gasps and your hands around his waist again, warm and solid and present, and you shuddered, breathing him in, pulling him close, pressing your body to his.

Jungkook didn’t waste time.

His hands were on your hips, his wispy moan trailing over your lips.

Oh no. You tried to resist the addictive sensation that demanded to be chased, your lower body rolling into his, feeling was what very real and very apparent, his shaking breath tickling your lower lip and chin, whine shimmering in his throat. He liked it. Pulled you closer, increasing the pressure, your clothed pussy practically riding his clothed dick.

You caught his moaning mouth and felt the electricity of his arousal enter your lungs, your hands tangling into his hair, pulling his head back, first lightly and then when he didn’t relent, harder, tearing a moan from his throat, loud and vicious and pure power of his vocal cords vibrating under your kisses, nipping at his neck and leaving small possessive marks that he encouraged with gasping, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, falling apart in your skillful hands, tracing the crown of his head, his ears, his jaw.

You ran your tongue over his collarbone and then softly trailed back with kisses.

“O-Oh, fuuuuck me…”

That was the idea, yeah.

He was unbuttoning your pajama shirt.

“Wha… Why are you wearing a bra?”

You guessed that was not supposed to sound whiny but then again Jungkook was pouting in frustration.

“I generally wear bras. You know, to hold my tits.”

He puffed his cheeks. “Don’t ladies usually not wear bras at home?”

“I imagine the situation might change if there was a hot man involved.”

An involuntarily shiver travelled all over Jungkook and the only reason you could feel it was because you were basically humping his dick.

“Also, we can’t talk much if you are distracted by my nipples,” you added.

You felt an agile hand creeping around to the back clasp. “What if I want to be distracted by your nipples…?” he trailed off experimentally, giving you a curious, mischievous look.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”

He tilted his head, sending dark strands over one eye and his cheek.

“Who’s asking?” he purred, his silvery voice low and deep.

Well, shit.

The man knew how to be sexy.

You raked your fingers through his thick black hair, feeling him tremble under you.

“Leader of the naughty list herself,” you breathed back, leaning in to kiss him again.

While it was true that Jungkook had not come with some last-minute wrapped trinket, he had brought a hard dick and abundant horniness, and that was a pretty good gift in your book. You showed him your boobs and those nipples he was so keen about – well, technically, he showed himself and audibly gasped when your bra tumbled off. You weren’t sure if he was acting or not, but that question was answered too, because he lifted you by the waist and ran his tongue over your cleavage and then started making out with your chest.

“Oh…!”

Your turn to be surprised and you clutched his head, gasping, pushing him to suck, and he didn’t need any more signs, circling his tongue around the hard nab and then his eyelids fluttered, moaning deep in his chest. Hot shivers at the feeling of his warm mouth and gentle insistence, your body pressing into him, matching his rhythm and sound, holding his free hand to your neglected breast while his other hand splayed over your lower back, strong and secure. Your thighs squeezed his waist, feeling his desire melt into yours.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know.

You just didn’t act on it and neither did Jungkook, other than the occasional puppy eyes because he was terrible at lying. He had made a conscious effort to stay securely in the friendzone out of respect. You had appreciated that, really. But then there was that chance meeting, and, even then, you knew he took you to the Festival of Lights just to cheer you up, not to put you in any complex or awkward situation, but, again, he was bad at lying and there was no getting around this very intense attraction between you and Jeon Jungkook.

Hence the current kissing down your stomach and you leaning back, slow cascading moan falling from your lips as you felt his dance around your bellybutton and he pulled down the waistband of your pajama pants, following your hip line.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Your fingertips grazing the lines of his legs, nails applying dainty pressure that made him quiver under you, his breath hitching as you placed your hands on his thighs and pressed your fingers inward, lifting yourself back up. Leaning down to kiss him again, tasting traces of you on his lips. Slowly peelings his clothes off, tangling him in them just to see his eyebrows knit in frustration, so cute, but you didn’t say, not yet, and then your clothes were in a rumpled pile on the living room floor. You in your panties and him in his boxer briefs, and you straddled his waist, kissing him repeatedly, rubbing your chest into his, feeling him under you.

Hot.

Shivering.

Overwhelmed with sensation, rolling his hips and hard cock into your covered heat.

He liked the feeling of your fingernails running down his chest. You did it once, just to test, and he reached for your hands, pulling them back up, more, and you watched his body writhe and fall apart under your touch, his head tipping back and lifting up his torso to add more pressure, moan hiking when you scratched down his sides and kissed his chest, licking his nipples, traveling to his back, earning a stronger reaction and his fingers sinking into your ass, his erection throbbing in between your thighs that squeezed his tense hips.

“Fuck, oh, fuck…”

You could feel the dampness occurring, both from you and him.

“J… Jungkook…”

You couldn’t stop kissing him, continuously telling yourself last one, but that was ages ago, lips locked and drunk on foreplay, on his body and his sound, vibrant and carnal, a mix of cute and sexy that was practically illegal. Couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop whispering to him how nice he felt, how nice he tasted, careless, absorbed in the strength of his lust.

“C-Can I fuck you…? I brought condoms in my coat, j-just in case…”

“Naughty boy,” you scolded and didn’t mean it, and it was dangerous, so dangerous the way Jungkook desperately moaned as you placed your hand over his damp, pulsing hardness and rubbed him through his underwear, too dangerous with the way he looked at you and gasped, you wanna sit in this naughty boy’s lap?

Thankfully, that was the extent of that.

Also, you didn’t bother going all the way to the hall closet when you had plenty of condoms in your bedroom.

And, yeah, you sat in his lap.

”Oooh, wow, y-you feel soooo fucking good…“

Could have been either of you or both of you saying it. You wouldn’t remember if you thought about it later, because you were too busy rocking your hips and trying to find the correct rhythm again. It was easier than you thought, maybe because of Jungkook’s roaming hands on your thighs, hips, breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure across your torso that matched the satisfying fullness deep inside, and, right there, finding the correct depth and forcefulness, chasing it immediately, building the steady pace with the condom wrapper tumbling down your sheets and hitting your knee.

You snatched it and chucked the foil wrapper over the side of your bed.

“Oh!”

“Forget about it, fuck me, Jungkook, fuck me.”

He angled his hips up and you rode him, relentless pleasure and waves of need satisfied by thrusting, clenching around his thick, hard cock, losing yourself in the shocking bliss.

You closed your eyes.

Felt the heat, so intense it sent chills up and down your spine. Couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, hands on his chest, tense and vibrating under harsh smacks and craving more, your name in Jungkook’s breathless voice addicting. His sound, intoxicating. His body, telling, unable to lie and you could be nothing but be honest, so good, fuck, feels so fucking good, speeding in the fast lane and soaring from the feeling.

There was no doubt that Jungkook was someone special.

You looked down, just for a moment, catching those brown eyes, glassy and fucked-out and watching you like you were everything and more.

I need him.

The thought was so intense and raw that you felt something inside you snap, your breath cutting off, torrential crash and orgasm seizing you by the throat, throwing your head back, your hair sweeping your shoulders, and you came around him, jerking your hips to bury him deeper, oh, fuck, yeees, suspended in the blissful, powerful rush, feeling your liquid honey leak out and down, covering him with it, the scent of sex rising between your bodies.

Jungkook lifted his hips and your body by doing so, his hands strongly grasping your waist, moaning with you, thrusting hard and fast, fucking your through your orgasm and you immediately tumbled into another peak, back-to-back intensity, feverish pitch of your joined voices as he came too, rock-hard and twitching inside your pulsating tightness, holding both of you up by a miracle.

Or sheer lust.

Nice or naughty, right?

For a moment, mute, stunned silence at the shared feeling between you and him.

Sure, it was pretty damn obvious you were going to fuck.

You just didn’t expect it to feel this good and this right.

Down, down, down. Slow, serene, subliminal, the way he sank down and both your gazes left the ceiling, sinking into your sheets, your eyes and his eyes connecting, quiet but an entire conversation humming between your bodies.

“J… Jungkook.”

He was panting hard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, his long black hair a mess your pillows. “Y… Yeah?”

“It’s… It’s a bit late…”

Well, actually, you had no idea what time it was.

“Y-Yeah, it kinda is…” he breathed, caressing your hips with his fingertips, relentless energy under you, eyes so big and brown that you could drown in that comforting darkness.

“Can you just…”

A pause, racing hearts beating together.

“Stay?” you asked, tentative and unsure.

Jungkook squeezed your thigh, reassurance in his touch.

“I wanna stay,” he stated, nodding determinedly.

So, he stayed, the start of many Christmases to come.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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lavoixhumaine · 1 month

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Tim Minear, I got a fucking bone to pick with you.

How the fuck did Nick and Nora, made during the infamous Hays Code era by the way, make out more times than Bobby and Athena? Like I’m not counting (I am and it is zero) but how is that exactly possible?

The film’s characters, supposedly married, weren’t even allowed for sleep in one bed because of those ridiculous rules and yet they seemed to convey more affection and sexual tension.

Meanwhile, you have no such restrictions with these actors today. We’re not even asking them to have movie magic sex, sir. We were just hoping for some actual fun sleuthing adventures with our favorite chaotic couple.

—because that was the expectation you set when you said they were going to be like The Thin Man.

(This should have been a red flag honestly because—in my opinion—apart from “The Thrilling Adventure Hour’s Beyond Belief” with Frank and Sadie Doyle, there has never been a truly good adaptation or inspired piece of The Thin Man which actually has led me to think it’s some kind of curse on its own, like a mini-Macbeth)

How do you reference The Thin Man regarding the episode you wrote? Like sir, Nick and Nora were a rich, chaotic, drunk honeymooning, sleuthing couple with a funny little dog who just happened to solve crimes for funsies because the wise-cracking wife and her cute little nose would not let her husband stay out of trouble.

They made sleuthing look fun and marriage seem sexy which was already a revolutionary idea in the silver screens of the 1930s…like that is the complete opposite of what you wrote in “Abandon ‘Ships”, Mr. Minear. Did you even watch the movies or did someone just say, ‘hey, you know those black and white movies…?’

I don’t mind what you did in the episode. I mind that you uttered complete bullshit about it saying it’s like The Thin Man movies because, no, hell no. Not even close. I really don’t get how you pulled that comment from your ass, sir. Respectfully.

So did you lie or did you just choose to reference the film series because this is another jab at the Oscars? Because as it happens, they also presented the actress who played Nora, Myrna Loy (sidenote: everyone knew she should have won for the 1946 film “The Best Years of Our Lives”) an Honorary Oscar.

So what I’m actually saying is, you kinda suck for lying through your stupid teeth, Tim Minear. So like go kick rocks or something. And maybe don’t ever speak of The Thin Man again if you’re just gonna lie about it.

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year

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A Deeper Look At Kazuki’s Delinquent Teen Version of Miri

In Episode 5, we see Miri packing for her brief visit and stay with Kyutaro at the Mistletoe Cafe:

She has a drawing pad, crayons, an eraser, water bottle, a white stuffed rabbit, and some food: the stuff like the orange gummies and popcorn (ポップ) seem rather generic, while the Poki Poki is obviously meant to be Pocky, the pink container is meant to be Calbee’s じゃがりこ (jagariko), which are basically like a potato stick snack. The chocolate seems a bit generic too, though the shape of the box and the circular shape of the chocolate reminds me of Lotte’s Ghana chocolate:

In Kazuki’s wild imagination of a shoplifting teen Miri, we see that he has her stealing Poki Poki and the Choconut chocolate, two things that she is packing in her bag in Episode 5. There’s also a stack of Morio Kart 6 games (like 3 or 4, maybe for her and her friends, lol).

The stationary stuff was replaced with makeup and other kinds of cosmetics, which fits in with what we see of her appearance.

Looking at her face in the image below, Kazuki has her looking like Misaki, Miri’s mother. This makes sense, of course, she is her mom. He imagines her with the same color eye shadow though, which is interesting. Anyone who has watched anime, especially school based ones, for a while, likely know that wearing makeup goes against the usual school dress codes.

The same goes for her earrings, especially if they are pierced. Most school dress codes in Japan don’t allow for earrings, so if someone does get ear piercings, it’s in adulthood, after they graduate. Even then though, clip on earrings are more common. A teen girl with pierced earrings though gives the image of delinquency.

Miri is also show with the top buttons of her dress shirt unbuttoned and her tie loosened. All of which is against dress code as well. Her skirt was also altered to be a bit shorter than it is supposed to be (you can see that more in the last image below). Before we talk about that last image though, let’s talk about the aspects of Miri’s appearance that could go against some Japanese school dress codes, but which she has no actual control over.

Specifically the color of her hair and it being wavy. I’ll link to some articles that go into more details on these issues, but her is an excerpt from on Vice article. It mentions:

Text: The unnamed female student said her institution repeatedly demanded she dye her naturally brown hair black. She followed the school’s rules at first but eventually stopped, leading school officials to remove her desk from the classroom, erase her name from rosters, and check her hair roots. A court ordered the local government to pay her $3,100 in damages last February, but ruled the school has a right to impose hair regulations.

In another article entitled, #HairWeGo: Japanese take aim at school rule requiring black hair, from AsiaOne (which I will link to below), we have this segment:

Text: In most of Japan's public schools, pupils are only permitted to have straight black hair. They cannot bleach, dye or perm it. Conversely, any student whose hair is naturally light or curly can be made to straighten or dye it until it is the required shade of black.

The reason for these rules on hair color and needing all students to have straight black hair is because it is often associated with the ideal Japanese image.

There have been lots of debate and discussion about these sorts of rules over on Japan Twitter, Japanese news, and etc. in recent years, with many calling these rules out. So, recently, many of these rules have been removed or, at least, are currently being reevaluated.

But these changes are still new, ideas of differently colored hair like brown (or blond, like Kazuki) and hair that isn’t straight (curly, wavy, etc.) are viewed as outside of the norm. And therefore are often associated with acts of rebellion (dyeing hair, perming hair, etc.) rather than the possibility of them just being the natural state and color.

I’ve worked at a number of Japanese elementary and junior high schools though, and I know that this sort of mentality is changing, especially as more and more biracial children are being born in Japan. But, there is still preconceived ideas there. I remember one teacher I worked with, had to dye their brown hair black for a formal event (outside of work) once. It was sad to see.

But, that’s also why I like the fact that a lot of the Buddy Daddies characters have brown hair (Miri, Kyutaro, Miss Anna) and many of the children Miri plays with have different hair color shades as well (different shades of brown, Taiga with blond-ish colored hair like Kazuki, etc.). I know it’s an anime, but the general character designs in Buddy Daddies leans more towards grounded than something you might find in a Shonen Jump series, etc. So, I think these choices also say something.

Finally, lets talk about this last image. In the background you have posters for the basically “Just Say No to Drugs!!” campaign in Japan (they don’t always use the Globe Mascot for all posters, it makes sense they would use one with a cop at a police station or police box location). There is also a poster warning about phone call scams.

But, I want to focus on Miri sitting with her legs crossed. The other day on Twitter, I saw a video of a woman crossing her legs on a train. An old man that was sitting next to her, and who was manspreading, got upset when she did this and whacked her legs with a newspaper. (I’ll link to think video below).

It’s seen as rude and, especially in the case of women, disrespectful. Of course, that doesn’t mean that people don’t cross their legs (that woman did) and that doesn’t mean that older man’s actions were okay. But, this is also why teen Miri is shown sitting with her legs crossed in Kazuki’s wild imagination, because it is associated with disrespect and the like (the speech patterns that she uses in Japanese are rude too, of course).

I won’t include the image here, but teen Miri and teen Taiga being all over each other (like hugging each other and making a heart shape together, etc.) is viewed as too much PDA, which is also looked down upon in Japan. So, of course, Kazuki would end up including that in his “delinquent” version of Miri, lol.

#Buddy Daddies #Miri Unasaka #Kazuki Kurusu #Japanese culture and society #school dress codes #social issues #Japanese candy #Japanese snacks #long post #image heavy post #meta post

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unkn0wnnn06 · 4 months

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Ok so I may have had a little hyperfixation on the song Villain and it may have sparked me to just think of a bit of evil Grian & there’s one cover of it that I absolutely love and I think it fits him pretty well so I’m gonna do a little rant.

The cover is by Umbratic forest and I definitely recommend checking it out cus it’s amazing!

So basically, my idea is Grian singing the whole song to the winners of each series, taunting them in a way, because obviously they had to kill a bunch of their friends to get to the end and they might think they’re the ‘good guys’ or that they were ‘forced’ to doing it.

I’m doing colour coding because that’s gonna be so much easier to help explain. So each colour is who Grian is talking to for that section. (also all the lyrics are in bold)

Grian (for when it’s just him and he’s not talking to anyone else)

Scott

Pearl

Martyn

Scar

We all pretend to be the Heroes on the good side

Some things are written in black

Some things are written in white

You never bother with the other colors

In last life, Scott was very much about not following rules and such (like not killing when he was the boogey), so I think he’d have a pretty ‘black and white’ point of view of what’s bad and good.

You are the protagonist

She is the antagonist

Your black and white world is Mundane and pointless…

Pearl in double life was abandoned by Scott so in her story he is the antagonist and and she is the protagonist, and she probably, maybe, only sees it that way.

So many shades of Grey

Oh how can you not understand what’s so easy?

Martyn had that whole bit where he was ‘possessed’ by the watchers at the end of limited life and so there’s a possibility he might not realise how he also wanted to murder Scott and Impulse like he did to win/get time.

Good easily fades away

Think twice before you fall in love with me

because

Scar tried to be the good guy all of secret life but kept being made out to be the villain and in the end he gave into it, his good faded away.

I’m a villain

Do you think that it isn’t true?

You don’t know a thing about me

Or the evil deeds I do

Oh no

You’re a villain

Do you think that it isn’t true?

Whenever you breathe out

The villain in you breathes out too

You know, I’m killin’ someone

Maybe you’re killin’ someone

Maybe I’m killin’ you

Maybe you’re killin’ me

Maybe

So after Grian killed Scott with commands in LL after he won, he goes and congratulates him and Scott doesn’t appreciate it and maybe lashes out a bit because Grian started the games, he won the first one, he’s the one putting them through this. And then Grian decides to taunt him a bit and make him realise everyone’s a bit of a villain and not everything’s black and white.

We all pretend to be the Heroes on the good side

But what if we’re the villains on the other?

Flashback to 3rd life sort of, with the whole debate of who were the ‘bad guys’, and who were the ‘good guys’.

Am I good?

Am I bad?

"Ay"

Are you good?

Are you bad?

"Ay"

Somebody that I love with all my heart could be somebody that another person hates

"Say"

Are we good?

Are we bad?

"Ay"

What is good?

What is bad?

"Ay"

Somebody that you hate is still somebody that a mother loves with her entire heart

"Say"

So Pearl was deemed a ‘bad guy’ by a lot of people on the server, but in her eyes, she wasn’t and Scott was (in a way, she forgave him in the end but still). And so after DL when Grian visited her she probably was more devastated by everything that happened in the game.

I just think this verse fits Pearl a lot because she was seen as a villain so in the “Are you good? Are you bad?” lines, it’s sort of reflecting her ‘insanity’ and ‘bad guy’ behaviour contrasts with how she was also a victim and ‘good’.

When Grian says “Somebody that I love with all my heart could be somebody that another person hates” he’s referring to BigB and Scar because of secret soulmates.

And with “Somebody that you hate is still somebody that a mother loves with her entire heart” it’s about Scott and Cleo (either way and obviously not like a mother, like soulmates/chosen soulmates).

So many shades of Grey

Oh how can you not understand what’s so easy?

Good easily fades away

Think twice before you fall in love with me

because

One, two

I’m a villain

Do you think that it isn’t true?

You don’t know a thing about me

Or the evil deeds I do

Oh no

You’re a villain

Do you think that it isn’t true?

Whenever you breathe out

The villain in you breathes out too

I feel like the chorus fits Martyn the best no matter what, he very much is still a bit of a ‘villain’ in more or less every season, he’s at least a menace. And in LiL at least, he was a lot more unhinged and in the end ‘snapped’ and just killed Scott and Impulse and got a bit of a rush off the time he gained.

And with him seeing Grian after the game, he would probably lash out at him since Grian’s a watcher and would blame him.

Grian saying when “When you breathe out, the villain in you breathes out too” is like saying even though he despises the watchers and would refuse to be ‘evil’ like them, he is still in a way.

You know,

All villains

Do you think that it isn’t true?

You don’t know a thing about

the feeble, evil deeds we do

Oh no

We’re all villains

Do you think that it isn’t true?

Just take a look and

See the evil harbored in our hearts

Scar is the last of all the winners (so far) so by the time he wins, the others have accepted that they’re not all good. He didn’t want to be the villain in SL but he kept getting tasks that forced him to be a menace and he just gave into it and went on a rampage during the finale, playing each team and killing a bunch of people. He may not see himself as ‘good’ at that point, but he may not want to believe all his friends are also not good.

And since Scar didn’t end at the end of secret life, Grian visits him while he’s hitting the button trying to get the game to end (Martyn’s lore stream idea).

I’m killin’ someone

Maybe you’re killin’ someone

Maybe I’m killin’ you

Maybe you’re killin’ me

Maybe

We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side

But what if we’re the villains on the other?

We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side

But what if we’re the villains on the other?

We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side

At this point, everyone ‘singing’ each part they’re colour coded with, mainly because I feel like in an animatic or something it would look cool, all of them just sort of realising they’re not all good.

This may have been a shit explanation but it makes sense in my head. And also this probably isn’t really ‘evil’ Grian but at least with this idea, he’s a bit more menacing and more on a badder side than in canon. 👍

#mcyt #life series #grian #3rd life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life #life series winners #trafficblr #traffic smp #smajor #pearlescentmoon #inthelittlewood #goodtimeswithscar

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shyxcherry · 1 year

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Drinking Games | San

summary: when you need an easy way to make money during your last semester of college, your friend gets you a job at a local bar. you wish that didn't include the cute singer who won't leave you alone, but when do things ever go your way.

pairing: Singer!San x Bartender!Reader

genre/warning: fluff, angst, smut, drunk men as reader does work in a bar, San is an idiot, but we love him anyway

Word count: 10.9k

note: My biggest fic i’ve ever written. i hope you enjoy it. there may or may not be a part two in the works.

You tie your hair up in a knot as you open your locker door. You throw your bag and phone into the locker before shutting it. You put your lock back onto the locker, so no one steals your stuff. This room may be locked by a code and only accessible to employees, but you wouldn't put it past anyone to steal your things. This was a bar after all.

You had gotten this job about a week ago. You needed a way to make money so you could pay your way through your last semester of college. You had tried working during the day, but between your classes and studying, you were mentally and physically exhausted. When your roommate Chae suggested a night job at the job where she works, you were against it. But you needed money, and what better way to make money than being a bartender?

Chae and another bartender, Miyoung, had spent the last few days teaching you the basics of drink making. You were in college, so of course you did know the basics. You and Chae would also practice drink making one your weekly movie nights. So, you at least knew your way around the bar.

You felt the heavy bass under your feet as you make your way to the bar. You nod your head greeting Jungho, one of the security guards who worked here. He was quite tall and looked like your typical scary guard, but Chae assured you that he was a big Teddy bear. Both him and Yunho, who was a guard as well.

You had some unspoken rules that Chae and Miyoung had told you about. One: Don't wear your hair down. Drunk man will grab it when you don't give them what they want. Two: Don't be afraid to show some skin. It will get you more tips. And three: Don't get involved with San. He was the leader of the group Purple Rose. You didn't have to ask what that meant since Chae had told you when it happened a few months ago.

Apparently, the last female bartender they hired thought she had a thing with San. They did sleep together, but San said that it was a one-night stand. That caused her to go 'crazy' according to Chae. There was even a rumor that she slashed his tires.

Today was your first day working without the help of Chae or Miyoung. You were working with a man named Hongjoong. You had met him when you were hired here. He was nice from what you could tell. He had some facial piercings and a sleeve of tattoos. Your favorite thing about him was his hair. It was split dyed black and white.

"What's up, short cake?" You heard Hongjoong yell at you over the loud music. They had just opened the doors, so people were starting to flood in.

"Like you're the one to talk." You joke. He was one of the shortest guys who worked at the bar. He hated when people rubbed that in. He bumped your hip as he brushed past you.

"Shut up."

The two of you get the bar prepared as people started to line up. You put on a smile as you started taking orders. You and Hongjoong worked around the bar nicely together. He told you that the two of you make a good team.

"Hey (Y/N)!" You look over to see Yeosang. He was the waiter of the VIP lounge. He would take drink orders and bring them back. The VIP lounge isn't very large, so Yeosang could manage it well on his own. "A round of vodka shots and a martini please."

You take the some shot glasses and place them on the tray he was holding. You pour a generously large amount of vodka in the glasses. You then work on making the martini. You place the mixed drink in a cute glass before placing an olive spear in it. You give it to Yeosang. He thanked you before walking off.

You look up from making a drink as the people of the dance floor start cheering. There you saw the owner of the bar standing on the stage. You knew what was about to happen. Purple Rose was about to play. The band was very popular for a small group. According to Chae, they are the main reason this bar stays afloat. The lead singer, San, had been sick, so they haven't played the last few days. This would be your first time watching them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you having a good night tonight." The owner, who told you to call him Red, spoke into the microphone. "It's about to get even better. Give it up for Purple Rose."

The crowd went crazy as four men walked onto the stage. You knew a little about them from Chae. The drummer was first. His name was Mingi. He was tall with gray hair. You smile as he jumped around the stage getting everyone hyped up.

Next were the two guitarists. On the bass was Seonghwa. He had black hair that was slicked back. He sported a leather jacket, which was his signature look. The other guitarist was Wooyoung. His hair was similar to Hongjoong's with the black in white, but the white was tucked underneath the black.

The last to come out was San, the singer. You felt like your ears were going to shatter with how loud the girls were screaming. His hair was slicked back like Seonghwa, but he had a red streak going down the middle.

"Thank everyone for coming out tonight. We are Purple Rose, and we're going to play some songs for you if that's okay?" San spoke into the microphone. The audience responded with cheers and whistles.

You did your best to watch them perform while you served drinks to people at the bar. You couldn't take your eyes off of San. The way he moved around the stage. It is like he belonged there. His voice was amazing as well. He had a natural growl to his voice.

You knew better than to interact with him though. He looked like the type who could make girls fall in love with him with one conversation. You weren't going to be one of them. You needed this job.

The group played for another half hour before announcing that their set was done for the night. You noticed that the four of them got off the stage and took pictures with the women who were waiting for them. You rolled your eyes before looking away as one girl, who barely had any clothes on, threw herself at them.

"Hello there, angel. I haven't seen you before." You heard someone say from behind you. You turn to see San leaning onto the counter with a smirk on his face. "Are you new?"

"Yes, I just started here last week." You answer shortly as you handed some guy his fifth beer.

"My name is San." He held out his hand for you to shake. You looked at his hand for a moment before leaning over and shaking his hand.

"(Y/N)."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He replied to you. You rolled your eyes at him before crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't miss him glancing at your chest.

"What can I get you to drink?"

"Trying to get rid of me so soon?"

"How did you guess?" You answered him. A loud laugh came out of his mouth, almost startling you. San liked you so far. A woman who fights back and doesn't just throw herself at him. It made him want to fight back.

"Just a beer."

You make him a glass of beer before sitting the tall glass in front of him. He thanked you before taking a long sip of the beer. He reached in his pocket and pulled out some money, but that's where you stopped him.

"It's on the house."

He should know this. All four of the band members get free drinks. Red said that it was one of his form of payments for them performing for him.

"It's a tip, angel. I only tip the pretty ones."

"And that's supposed to make me feel good?" You question him. Before he could respond, Hongjoong yelled from behind you.

"Is that why you never tip me?"

"You're not a pretty girl." San replied with an eye roll upset that he was interrupting his conversation with you.

"That's hurtful." You laughed as Hongjoong placed his hand over his heart.

"Don't worry. I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." You reply.

"Thank you." Hongjoong smiled at you before glaring at San. "That's how you compliment someone."

You felt San grab your hand gently. He placed the money in your hand. Before you could throw it back at him, he chugged the rest of his drink before walking away.

"See you around, angel."

You grumbled under your breath before shoving the money in your back pocket. You weren't going to say no if he wanted you to have it so bad.

"I don't need to warn you, do I?" Hongjoong warned. "I mean, he's a good friend of mine, but he doesn't have the best history when it comes to women."

"Don't worry. I've already been warned." You tell him. You didn't have any interest in him. You had too much on your plate to be worried about a guy.

"Good. I don't need my new partner quitting over a broken heart."

"Not a chance."

You kick a rock down the sidewalk. This was your weekend off of work, so you were able to spend the weekend studying for you finance test on Monday. You decided to take a small break and go get some food. Thankfully, you lived down the street from a convenience store. Perfect for a college student.

You pull the door open as you step inside the quite store. It was 11 at night, so the store was empty besides the cashier. You grab a basket and make your way down the aisles. After you had gotten everything you wanted, you made your way to the front of the store. You pay for your food before walking over the tables.

You pull out your phone out of your pocket as you heat up your food. You continue to watch a drama that you had gotten interested in while you eat your food. You were enjoying yourself. That was until someone sat in front of you.

"Hello, angel."

You look up to meet the dark eyes of San. You held the urge to roll your eyes as he sits his bag of food down. Out of all the chairs, why did he sit here?

It's been three weeks since you started working at the bar. Since then, San has bothered you every night since he met you. And by 'bothering' you, you meant he's been trying to ask you on a date. You spent the first week completely ignoring him, but that got tiring very quickly.

You had told Chae about this. She said something similar to Hongjoong. That you needed to be careful around him. But there was something that she also said that you couldn't forget. According to her, San doesn't chase after woman like he has with you. Most of the time when San asks someone out, they say yes. But on the rare occasion they say no, he will leave them alone. You have said no a total of 12 time. You counted, but he hasn't taken no for an answer. Maybe it's the fact that you aren't afraid to put up a fight.

"What are the odds?" You mumble as you continue watching your show.

San let you continue to watch your show as he set up his meal. You looked away from your screen as he concentrated on his food. Your eyes drifted to his lips as he bit it. You heard him chuckle as you meet his eyes. Instead of being embarrassed like San had thought, you held eye contact with him.

"Like what you see?"

You shook your head as you rubbed at your lips. "Your lips are really dry. You should fix that. Your side chicks wouldn't like that."

"Don't worry, angel. You're the only one." You roll your eyes at him. Of course, that's the only thing he would get out that. "You know what would make this even better?"

"Don't say it." You interrupt him.

"If this was a date." You roll your eyes as he ignores you.

"You wish."

"I do. I spend all of my time wishing you would go on a date with me." San told you.

"You're such a liar." You laugh at him.

"Just one date?" San asked.

"No thanks."

"Please."

"San."

"(Y/N)."

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"Yes." He answered quickly.

"Just one date." You warn him.

"Unless you want more." He winked. Before you could respond to him, he interrupted you. "Just one date. If you don't enjoy it, I wound bug you again."

"Okay." You agree.

San pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up the contacts before handing you the phone. You hesitated to give this man your phone number. Worst case scenario, you'll block him. You enter your number and send yourself a quick text. You hand his phone back to him.

"I'll let you know the next time I'm free." You tell him.

"You won't regret this, angel."

"I better not."

Due to your hectic schedule, it took almost two weeks before you and San could schedule your date. At first, he thought you were purposely pushing it back, but when you sent him a picture of your full color-coded schedule, he started to understand. It also made him admire you. You worked full time at a bar while you were a full-time student. San had tried that before, but he had failed. So, he understood partially. Until then, he was okay with texting you until your first date.

You also didn’t mind texting him. He wasn’t as annoying over text. He was very offended when you told him that. The more you texted, the more you got to know about him. The two of you were very similar. You both had a love for music, except you couldn’t sing for the life of you. That didn’t stop you though.

It was a Friday night that you scheduled your date. He had told you to dress casually. He had hinted at the idea of you wearing a dress, but you turned that down quickly. You still dressed cute though. Chae had whistled at you when you exited your room. She loved the fact that you were finally going on a date. She had tried to set you up many times before, but none of them have worked out. She did let you know how she had felt about it being San who you were going out with.

“Be careful.” She warned you.

“I will.” You assured her. “I’m just doing this to get him to leave me alone.”

“Okay. I just don’t want him to hurt you. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces. After I murder him.”

You laughed at your friend. “You watch to many crime shows.”

You grab your bag and phone before walking out the door when San had texted you stating that he was there. When you get outside, you see San in front of the building leaning on his car. When he sees you, a big smile covers his face. You smile at him as you stop in front of him.

"You look beautiful (Y/N)." He compliments you.

"Thank you. You look nice as well."

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm trying to impress this cute girl I work with." San said as he opened the door for you. You slide in before he closes the door. He walks around to the other side and gets in.

"Do I know her?" You play along.

"You should." He answers. "It's hard to miss her. She looks like an angel."

"Alright Mr. Cheese. Where are we going?" San laughed at your response.

"It's a surprise." San winked at you.

"I hope it's a good one because I hate surprises." You tell him.

"It's a good one. I promise."

San starts the car and drives off. The two of you listen to music in silence while you drive to your date location. At least it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. That was until San spoke up.

"So (Y/N), if you could live anywhere, where would it be any why?"

You could help but burst out laughing. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"I was trying to start a conversation with you." San laughed. He liked the sound of your laugh.

"I know that. I wasn't expecting a question like that." You told him.

"I may have looked up good conversation starters." San admitted. You looked at him to see if he was telling the truth. His red face gave it away. At least he was trying. You would give him that.

"I've never thought about it." You finally answered his question. "I would want to stay somewhere remote. Preferably in the mountains somewhere."

"Why the mountains?"

"I used to go on hikes with my parents when I was younger. We also camped a lot." You tell him.

"The Forrest kind of creeps me out." San says. "There's bears and stuff. I prefer the beach."

"There are sharks in the ocean." You chuckle when San huffs.

"You have a point."

"There's always a risk of danger when you go out into the world. Especially nature. I think that it's worth it."

San looked over at you. Beauty and brains. You weren't afraid to tell him your opinion, even when it didn't match with his. He appreciated that. It made conversations more interesting.

"Here we are."

You looked around. "Where are we?"

"My apartment." San answered. You looked at him skeptically.

"You brought me to your apartment?"

"Yes and no." He answered. "You have to trust me."

"Okay."

Both you and San got out of the car. San grabbed your hand as he guided you unto the building. He half expected you to let go of his hand, but when you didn't and held onto his hand, he felt his heart race. He really didn't want to mess this up. He had Seonghwa help him plan this since he was the only one who had a girlfriend.

The two of you waited for the elevator after San had hit the button. When the doors opened, you stepped in. San hit the button for the top floor.

"Do you live on the top floor?" You asked.

"No, I live on the third floor." San answered.

"Then why are we going to the top?"

"Patience angel."

The door opened and the two of you stepped out. San led you to the stair that led to the roof. San held the door open so you could walk through first. You held your hair back as a burst of cool wind blew around you. It was then you could see the beautiful view he had from his roof. Being able to see the stars without hearing the traffic was nice.

"Right this way, my lady." San's arm wrapped around your waist as he led you to your date spot.

On the other side of the staircase, there was a small gazebo. It was covered in string lights. There was a blanket laid out for you to sit on. Right in the middle of the blanket there was a picnic basket and some wine. There were also some blankets to cover yourself with. San remember when you told him that you get cold easily. He set out some pillows for you to sit on.

San watched your reaction. "Do you like it?"

"I do." You smiled at him. San let out the breath that he was holding.

"Then let’s eat."

The two of you sit down as San pulls out the food. He had one of your favorite foods that you had told him. He also had his favorite food. He also brought some snacks and wine glasses to drink the wine in.

The two of you had some small talk while the two of you ate. You made San pull up the website with those questions. You both answered a few of them. After you were done eating, you leaned back and covered yourself up.

"Earlier you said you went hiking with you parents, were you close with them?" San asked you.

"We were." You answered. "I was the only child, so the three of us hung out almost every weekend. They didn't want me being lonely."

"Are you still close?"

You shook your head. "Not anymore. As I got older, I didn't share the same values as my parents. They wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I didn't."

"What did you want to be?" San asked.

"At that point I didn't know." You answered. "I took a couple different college classes when I found out I liked business and finance. My parents didn't like that when I told them. They said that either I go to school for what they want, or they didn't want to see me again."

"What did you end up doing?"

"I'm a bartender. What do you think?" You laugh. "It's been three years since I've seen them, but they'll message me every once in a while to make sure I'm not dead."

"I'm sorry." San apologized.

"Don't be. I had to do what was going to make me happy." You told him. "What about you and you parents?"

"We've always been close. Especially my sister and me. At first, they weren't the blighted fan of me singing. I did what they asked and have college a go, but I ended up flunking out. It was after that they gave me their blessing." You watched San as he told you about his family. You noticed while you two were similar, your backgrounds were completely different.

The two of you lost track of time up there. Around midnight, San brought you back home. He parked his car before getting out to meet you.

"I had a good time with you San." You confess.

"Enough for a second date." San asked hopefully.

"Maybe." You tease.

San finds himself leaning in. Against all of what you previously thought of him, you lean on as well. San cups your cheeks as his lips meet yours. It was a short and sweet kiss. When he pulls away, he leans his forehead on yours.

It was then you felt it. The pit in your stomach. The ugly thing you call anxiety. You weren't used to being intimate. You haven't had many boyfriends, and you were still a virgin. You knew that San wasn't. What if you didn't meet his expectations? What if he realized he didn't want you because of your lack of experience?

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" San noticed something was off when you pulled away from him. You weren't acting like this before the kiss. Did he do something wrong?

"Nothing. Um..." You trailed off as you lost your train of thought.

"If I did something wrong, you can tell me." San told you. You shook your head.

"It's not anything you did. Can we just... Can we take it slow?"

San blinked as he finally understood the situation. He felt bad for not understanding earlier. "We can go however slow or fast you want. I won't push you. And I will never make you do anything you're not comfortable with."

San watched you relax some. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." San interrupted.

"Thank you for tonight." You tell him.

"I'll text you in the morning." San tells you. You nod at him.

"Okay."

After the first date that San took you on, you agreed to another date. That second date turned into five dates. You didn’t want to admit it, but he was nothing like you first thought of him. He was kind to you, and he never made you uncomfortable in any way. You told him that you wanted to take it slow because of your lack of experience with guys and schoolwork. He respected that. He never pushed you. He always waited for you to make the first move. Then he would take the lead.

At first, you held yourself back. You were scared to get too involved with him just in case he was like you thought. But the longer you hung out with him, the more you found yourself letting go with him. San couldn’t hide his emotions well, that you learned early on. You could tell how happy he was when you opened up to him. He always listened to you with such an intensity in his eyes. Even when you were talking about boring things like your studies. He even asked questions. He never interrupted you. He made you feel cared for which was a new feeling with you. That also scared you.

Tonight, the two of you were hanging out at his apartment. You often hung out here because the two of you had privacy. You lived with Chae, and you loved her, but she was the nosiest person you knew. The first and last time you brought him over, Chae interrogated you for a solid three hours. You had to lock yourself in your room to get away from her. You also loved the view from his apartment. He didn’t live to far from the bar you worked at. The neon lights from the restaurants and bars were all you could see.

The two of you started out watching a movie. You ordered pizza that was left half eaten on the table. All was forgotten as you sat on San’s lap. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist as the two of you made out. This wasn’t how you planned on the night to go. But when San saw you putting on a new strawberry lip balm, he just couldn’t help himself. One quick kiss turned into this.

You felt yourself getting carried away the more you kissed him. And the more you kissed him, the more turned on you got. You wanted him so badly. You hoped that he felt the same. You ground your hips against San’s. You felt yourself becoming wet when San let out a deep groan. You also could feel him become hard against your bare leg.

San pulled away from you making you whine. He smiled before placing his forehead on yours. “Angel, if you don’t want to take things further, we need to stop.”

“What if I want to continue?”

“I would love nothing more, but are you sure?” San asked you. As happy as he was to finally have you, he wasn’t going to push you. He would wait for as long as you said. He knew that you were a virgin. He would be honored if you trusted him enough for him to be the one to take your virginity.

“I want to be yours.” You told him. His hands reached up to brush against your cheeks. He pulled you into a kiss. You grip the collar of his shirt as you pour all of your emotions into the kiss. He continued to brush your cheeks as he pulled away again.

“We can stop at any point.” San assured you.

When he was completely sure that this was what you wanted, he stood up with you in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he made his way to his bedroom. You felt your back hit the soft mattress as he laid you on his bed. You sit up on your elbows as you watch him remove his shirt. You rake your eyes down his body. He was very fit, which didn’t shock you. What did shock you were the nipple piercings. You felt your heart race as he stared at you.

“You like what you see?”

You lean up and grab his hand. “I’d like it better if you were on top of me.”

“You’re wish is my command.”

You lay back has San hovers over you. You wrap your arms around San’s neck as he pulls you into another kiss. You feel a shiver as San’s hand start to pull up your shirt, exposing your stomach. You break the kiss before lifting yourself up as he pulls your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a bra. You felt yourself blush as San admired you.

“So beautiful.”

San pressed a kiss to your red cheek before he slowly made his way down your body. You tilted your head as he kissed down your neck. San felt himself grow impossibly hard when you let out a soft moan as he sucked on your neck. He didn’t think he had heard a more beautiful sound. He wouldn’t mind hearing that for the rest of his life.

His hands brushed over your bra. You stiffened for a second before relaxing. He paused and looked up at you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You told him. “I’m just not used to having anyone touch me like this.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. “You’re safe with me.”

“I know. I trust you.”

San felt his heart swell as you said that. He knew that he hadn’t had the best past with women. You knew that. That’s why it was so hard for you to open up to him. He was so glad you did. You were the most beautiful woman, inside and out. And he was going to spend the rest of your time together telling you that.

“Can I take this off?” His hands brushed your chest once again.

You didn’t flinch this time as you nodded your head. You lifted up your back some as his hands slid around your back as he unhooked your bra. He slid the bra down your arms before tossing it to the side. You felt yourself turn shy once again as your hands rested on top of your breasts. San noticed this. He kissed your cheek before speaking.

“You don’t have to hide from me.” He whispered. “Especially when you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You let him guide your arms to the side of the bed. When he looked down at your chest, he couldn’t help the smile that overcome his face. He laughed as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You laughed along with him.

“I guess we really are made for each other, aren’t we?”

You had a matching set of nipple piercings. You went out partying one night with Chae and some other friends. After spending half the night drinking, someone had the idea of getting piercings. Some didn’t agree, but most did. That included you. You already had a few piercings in your ears, so you wanted something else. That’s when Chae said she was getting her nipple pierced. The two of you went in together and held each other’s hands as you got them. Once you saw them the new morning, you instantly regretted them. That was until you saw the way that San stared at them.

“I guess so.” You laugh.

San pulled away from your neck with one last kiss. He kissed his way down your chest. You jumped in shock when San placed your left nipple in his mouth, your hand instantly going into his hair. You let out a moan when he started to suck on your nipple. His other hand went up to play with the other nipple. You hadn’t felt anything like this before. San could tell how much you were enjoying it by the sounds you were making.

“Does my baby like that?”

You looked down to meet San’s eyes. They were filled with lust as he placed your other nipple in his mouth. You thought you would be uncomfortable looking into his eyes while you were being intimate, but it actually calmed you if that made any sense. It also turned you on even more if possible. You whimpered as San released your nipple with a loud ‘pop.’ He started to make his way down your body, kissing every inch his lips could reach.

“So soft.” You heard him mumble. Once he got to the hem of your bottoms, he looked up at you once again for permission. “May I?”

“Please.”

San unbuttoned your bottoms before sliding both them and your underwear down your legs. Before you could close your legs, San laid in between them. His lips caught yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his face as he kissed you. He held your lip between his teeth as he pulled away. As he let go of your lip, he placed a sweet kiss on your nose that had you smile.

“Are you ready for me to continue?” He asked you. You nodded your head at him, but he wanted you to actually answer him. “I want you to use your words, angel.”

“Please.”

“Please what?” San teased you.

“Please touch me.” You answered him. Gave you one last kiss before making his way between your legs. He places a kiss to your inner thigh as you try to relax.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.” He placed more kisses to your inner thigh as he made his way to your heat. “Since the first time I laid my eyes on you, I’ve wanted you more than anything. I knew I had to make you mine. And now that you are, I’m never letting you go.”

He placed a kiss on your clit making you jump. You had never felt so sensitive down there. You could feel every breath as San watched your reaction to him. You looked beautiful. Your eyes scrunched shut as he licked a strip up your heat. The moan that came out of your mouth made him think he was in heaven.

You gripped the bedsheets as San started to suck on your clit. You felt yourself moan louder the more San pleasured you. As soon as you felt yourself getting lost in pleasure, San released your clit. A loud whine came out of your mouth as you opened your eyes.

“Why did you stop?”

“I’m sorry, angel.” He apologized, but the smirk on his face said otherwise. “I just wanted to prepare you.”

“Prepare me for what?” You asked.

“My fingers.” You gulped at his answer. San could see the fear in your eyes. “I going to take it slow. It may be uncomfortable at first.”

“What if it hurts?” You ask.

“If it hurts, you let me know, and I will stop, okay?” You nod at Sans answer. You watch him as he goes back to your heat.

You felt yourself relax as San continue to kiss and suck on your clit. You felt him shift, so you knew what was going to come next. You tried to stay relaxed as San enter one finger into you. You shifted at the feeling. It wasn’t painful, but it was slightly uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” San asked.

You nodded your head. “I’m okay. You can keep going.”

San watched your face as he started moving his finger in and out of you. He could tell that you were starting to enjoy it. Your mouth parted as a soft moan came from your lips. He decided to take it further.

“I’m going to add a second finger.” San warned you. You let out a small ‘okay.’

San continued to lick at your clit as he added a second finger. You threw your head back as he stretched you out. It felt oddly good. San continued to watch how you reacted. He could tell when you liked something by how loud your moans were. He continued to make sure he was only causing you pleasure, not pain.

“Does it feel good?”

“S-So good.” You moan out. You could barely talk because of the pleasure. You felt him enter a third finger causing you to moan again. It wasn’t long before you felt a familiar pit in your stomach. “San, I’m close.”

“I know baby. Go ahead and cum. I’ve got you.”

You arch your back as San sucks even harder on your clit. Between that and his fingers pumping out of you, you reached your climax. You griped his hair as you moaned out his name. San almost felt like he could climax just from watching you orgasm. The way your eyes scrunched up. Your head was thrown back as his name came from your lips repeatedly. He would never forget the image.

San pulled his fingers from you as you came down from your high. You watched as he placed his fingers in his mouth before sucking them clean. When he released his fingers from his mouth, you grabbed his neck before pulling him to you. Your lips crashed in a messy kiss. You could taste him on you as you continued to kiss him, which wasn’t as disgusting as you thought it would be.

“How did that feel?” San asked as he pulled away from you.

“Amazing.” You answer still out of breath.

You run your hands down his chest as you make your way to the bulge in his jeans. His head falls onto your shoulder as he lets out a moan when you start palming him through his jeans. You were barely touching him, and he felt like he was going to cum. It was when you started to undo his pants that he stopped you.

“Not tonight.” He told you. “Tonight, is all about you. We can do that another time, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You ask. You could see how much he was straining in his jeans. He placed his hands on your cheeks as he raised your face to meet his in a kiss.

“All I want is to be inside of you.”

You blushed at his words. “Okay.”

You laid there as San got up from the bed. You weren’t ashamed as you watched him unbutton his pants. His length jumped out as he pulled his pants down his legs. You felt yourself almost moan at the sight of him. You had never seen someone so beautiful.

“How are you from this world?” You question. You smile as you finally made him blush for a change.

“You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere.”

“Well, it’s the truth.” You tell him. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

San sits on the side of the bed as he pulls you into another kiss. While he kisses you, he reaches over to his bedside table. He opens it and pulls out a condom. He pulls away from you for a second before opening the packet and sliding the condom on. He lays in between your legs once again as he kisses you. You stiffen when you felt his length brush against your heat. San pulled away before looking at you.

“Do you want to keep going? We can stop right now. I won’t be upset.” San assured you. You could tell he meant that, but you didn’t want to stop. You meant it when you said you wanted to be his.

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Are you sure?” He asked again.

“I am. Just be gentle.” You laughed. San kissed your cheek as he promised he would.

He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. “I need you to relax for me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay.” You nod at him. He waits until you relax some before he continues.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

San lines himself up at your entrance. He waits before you nod your head at him before he slowly pushes into you. You clench around him as he stretches you. You burry you head into his neck. San continues to ask if you’re okay, even though your answer is the same every time. You’re finally able to relax enough for him to insert himself the rest of the way in.

He kisses your forehead as you try to adjust to him. “You’re doing so good, angel.”

“I don’t know about that, but thanks for the compliment.” He chuckles at your response. Even if you were in pain, you were still cracking jokes. You pull away from his neck and give him a kiss. His hand goes to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. As he kisses you, he feels you relax around him. You pull away and lay your head back on the pillow. “You can move now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

San pulls himself back before slowly thrusting into you. It didn’t hurt as much then at first. The more he continued, the better it got. It went from pain, to an uncomfortable feeling, and finally to pleasure. Even if it was torture for San to go so slow, he would until you told him otherwise. He could tell it was starting to get better for you by the way your fingernails dug into his back.

“San?” You get his attention.

“Yes, my baby.” San looks at you.

“Can you go faster?”

“As you wish.”

This time San buries his head into your neck as he speeds up. He was trying to hold off for you, but he didn’t know if he could. You felt so good wrapped around him. And the moans that were coming out of your mouth weren’t helping him.

“You feel so good baby. I don’t know how long I’m going to last.” San groaned when you clenched around him.

You could tell that he was close because his speed picked up. You knew he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t used to going slow, but you didn’t mind the speed up. As long as he didn’t mind the marks on his back from you.

“San, I’m close.” You moan out.

“Me to baby.” San’s hand made his way down your body. Your body jolted as his hand rubbed at your clit. You let out a loud moan as he brought you over the edge. “Cum for me.”

You threw your head back as you came to your climax. San was right behind you as he finally got his release. He sloppy thrusted into you as the two of you came down from your highs. San laid his head on your shoulder as he pulled out of you. You moan at the loss.

San was careful to not put all of his weight on you as he collapsed on you. You didn’t seem to mind as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You started to play with the hair on the back of his neck as the two of you laid in silence. That was until you spoke up.

“Thank you.”

He lifted his head up to look at you. “Thank me for what?”

“For being my first.” You answer. “I couldn’t have imagined it going anymore perfect than that.”

San felt his heart swell as he placed a kiss on your lips. You responded instantly. When he pulled back, you could feel a new emotion that you haven’t felt before. One that scared you.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

San felt his eyes widen as you confessed that to him. He then whined when he realized what you said. “I wanted to be the first one to confess.”

“Way to ruin the moment.” You laugh. San gasped at you.

“I ruined the moment?”

“Just a little.” You hold your hand up with your fingers almost touching.

“Take that back.”

“Make me.” You smile. You let out a scream as San’s hands tickle your side. You slap his hands as you try to make him stop tickling him.

“Take it back.”

“Okay!” San’s hands freeze for a moment. He leaned close to you.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“You didn’t ruin the moment.” You smile at him. He placed a kiss on your cheek as the two of you catch your breaths.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

You pull your hair out of your clip as you walk in the locker room. Tonight, was one of the nights that Purple Kiss didn't perform. San wasn't the biggest fan of it. Since the two of you slept together, he didn't like you being at work without him. You brushed him off saying that you knew how to take care of yourself.

He begged you to let him at least come pick you up, but you told him no. You had a test in the morning, and you didn't need any distractions. San understood that, but he wasn't happy. He sent you a pouty face just to make sure you knew.

When you walk to your locker, you furrow your eyes. The lock that was on your locker was cut off and was laying on the floor. You rush over and open your locker. You dig through your bag. Your phone, wallet, and car keys are still in the bag. Nothing was stolen, so why did someone cut the lock? It was then you saw it.

There was a package laying on the bottom of the locker. You picked it up and opened it. Out of it fell a USB and a note that said play me.

"This is some horror movie level shit." You mumble. "Oh well."

You throw the package in your bag before slamming your locker shut. Watching that could wait until tomorrow after your test. And it did because you forgot about it.

You were lounging on the couch doing schoolwork and watching Gossip Girl when Chae come into the apartment. As she fixed herself a bowl of cereal, she turned to you.

"Didn't you want to show me something?"

You looked at her in confusion until it hits you. "Oh. Look at this."

You explained to her how your lock had been cut at work and how you found the package inside. You watched her as she opened the package.

"This is something you'd find in a horror movie."

"That's what I said." You told her. "Wanna watch it together?"

"Hell yeah I do."

You saved your schoolwork before closing it out. You put in the USB. On it was only one thing.

"The real San? Maybe it's one of his stalker exs." Chae told you.

"Only one way to find out."

You click on the video. The screen was black, but there was audio. You could clearly make out San and Wooyoung arguing.

"Have you seen the new girl?" San asked.

"The one that's out of your league?" Mingi responds. You could hear Wooyoung laughing before you're assuming San hit him.

"Why would you say that?"

"Seonghwa's girl said that she was way too smart for me." Wooyound said. He wanted you as well. You couldn't figure out why though. The girls that threw themselves at them were more attractive than you.

"So?"

"You have a worst track record than I do with women."

"She's different though." San told him.

"Which is why she would never go for you." Mingi told him.

"You know you guys are supposed to be my friends, right?"

"We are." Wooyoung said. "We're just being honest."

"I think you're wrong." San said. You paused the video before looking at Chae. It seems like she had the same idea you did.

"Is this going where I think it's going, is it?" You ask.

"I really hope not." Chae answers. "I really thought San changed because of you."

You hit play on the video hoping that the two of you were wrong.

"You know what this mean?" Wooyoung says. "A bet."

"Really?" San asked.

"You have one month to sleep with her."

"And if not?"

"You owe me $500." Your eyes widened at Wooyoung's statement. Is that why San tried so hard to get you to go out with him? You felt like you were going to be sick.

"Let's be fair." Mingi said. "You have to let him get a first date before the timer starts."

"Are you in on the too, Mingi?" Wooyoung asked.

"Yes, but I don't think he's going to even get a first date."

"I don't even know why you bet on these things Mingi. You always lose." Wooyoung said.

"Shut the hell up."

"Alright. Winner gets one grand. You in San?"

Please say no.

"You're on."

Chae closes the laptop as the video ends. You stare at your lap, playing with a string on your shirt. You felt your eyes burn with unshed tears.

"You can say I told you so. I won't be mad." You tell her.

"Come here."

When Chae pulled you into a hug, you let out a sob as you cried into her shoulder. She held onto you tight.

"I feel like an idiot."

"He's the idiot if he didn't realize what he was doing." Chae told you.

"I slept with him Chae." Chae eyes widened at your statement. She knew how important losing your virginity to the right person was to you. "I told him I loved him."

"I'm going to kill him." Chae threatened. She couldn't just sit around and what you cry over some guy who didn't deserve it. She's going to make sure he regrets ever talking to you. She's going to make his life a living hell.

"You're going to have to beat me to it." You tell her.

"Well, I did just watch this good documentary on how to properly hide a body without getting caught." You laughed at Chae's statement. You pulled back and wiped your face. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to confront him." You answer. "After I pull myself together."

You put the USB and paper back in the envelope before taking a long, warm shower. You do what you said and pull yourself together. You put on some makeup and a cute outfit. He didn't deserve to see your tears. He doesn't deserve to see how much he hurt you.

"Kick his ass for me!" Chae yells as you leave the apartment.

You make the drive over to his place. You weren't sure if he was home or not. You had his spare key though, so you would just wait. You had half the thought of being petty and trashing his apartment. You knock on his door and wait a minute. The door opens revealing a half-asleep San. His smile bright when he sees it's you.

"Angel." He pulls you into a hug. He places a kiss on your cheek before pulling back. "What did I do to be blessed with your presence?"

You roll your eyes as you pull the envelope out of your bag. "Something happened at work last night, and I wanted to show you."

"Did someone hurt you? You should've let me come-"

"Calm down. No one hurt me." You interrupted him. "Except for you."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." You smiled. "Anyway, my locker was broken into. Nothing was stolen, but I found this."

You hand the envelope. He opens it before looking at you. "What is this?"

"A video that I want you to watch." You answer.

San looks at you questionably. You weren't acting like your normal self. You were shutting yourself off from him like you did when you first met. But he did what you asked and played the video on his laptop. You didn't move as you watched him. As the video ended, San reacted similar to you and just stared at the black screen.

"Let me help you out here." San looked at you when you started speaking. "(Y/n), let me explain. This isn't what it looks like."

"I'm sorry." San told you.

"I don't want an apology. I want an explanation." You raise your voice. "Was I a fucking bet?"

"At first yes." San said. That was all you needed to know as you turned to leave. "But I told them I didn't want to be a part of it anymore."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"It's the truth." San told you. "After the first date, I realized that you were some one-night stand. I wanted to get to know you. The more I found out, the more I fell for you. Nothing I ever told you was a lie."

"Our whole relationship is a fucking lie!" You yell at him. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

San was quiet for a moment which answered your question. You run your hand through your hair as you blow out a frustrated sigh.

"I should have listened to everyone when they said to stay away from you."

"(Y/N)-"

"I never want to see you again."

"Please don't do this." San begged. You could see the tears start to form in his eyes. "I love you."

"You should've thought about that before you broke my heart."

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this? I can still pick up your shift.”

“Chae, I need the money.”

It has been almost a week since you had your breakup with San. You were trying to heal from the whole thing, but San was making it very hard. First it was phone calls. Then it was texts. You ended up blocking him on everything possible, but he still would give up. He never showed up to your place which you were grateful for. You know you couldn’t avoid him completely since he performs where you work, but you were still going to try. He did; however, send some sort of apology gift every day. Flowers and food would be at your doorstep every morning. He was persistent you would give him that.

“How much longer do you have?”

“2 months.”

You were so close to graduating. But in order to graduate, your fees had to be paid. Paying that on top of rent and bills had you struggling a lot. You and Chae go half on paying rent. You were even able to pay your half this month. Chae said that it was okay because she knew how hard you were working, but you still felt bad. You just needed to hold up for two more months. You know this wouldn’t be the end of your money issues, but it would help. You already had a job lined up for after graduation.

You looked at the time on the wall. “I’ll talk to you when I get home.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You threw your phone in your locker before slamming it shut. You open the new lock you had bought and placed in on the locker. Hopefully this time someone wouldn’t break into it. You didn’t have much to lose at this point either.

You start your normal routine of pulling your hair up before walking out of the locker room. It was quiet at the moment since the bar had another hour before it opened. Hongjoong had texted you earlier asking if you would because he was having some car trouble. You told him that you would come in early to set up the bar. Especially when he said that he would do his best to keep San away from you.

You listen to the DJ setting up his playlist as you polished the drink glasses all while you ignored the security guards. You knew that they were friends of San’s. You didn’t know if they knew, but by the way they were looking at you, San told them. You didn’t want any questions.

You were almost done setting up the bar when someone past you. You turn to see Hongjoong with a towel finishing up the glasses. You give him a smile which he returned.

“New hair, Papa Smurf?”

“You know. I had some mild life change, so I decided to change up my look.” You let out a laugh at his reason for dying his hair. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing great.” You lie. He looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“The truth please.”

“What do you want me to say? I found out my first love only got with me for a bet. I can’t even afford my tuition anymore. And I have to make an A on my next exam, or I’m not even going to graduate.”

The two of you jumped when loud music started playing. People were starting to be let into the bar. Hongjoong couldn’t respond to you as people started to line. You put on a fake smile as you started to serve people their drinks.

You heard the familiar screams of the crowd, so you knew what was coming. You took a deep breath as you willed yourself not to look up and to keep serving. You didn’t know what would happen if you looked at San. Would you get sad and cry? Or would you get angry and yell at him?

You bobbed your head to the music as you polished some glasses. You get a small break while Purple Rose performs because everyone wants to watch them. You felt someone staring at you, so you looked up. You made the mistake of looking up towards the stage. Your heart dropped as you made eye contact with San. He was looking at you the whole time. His eye contact never waivered even after you looked at him. He wanted you to know that you were the only person he wanted. Even if you didn’t want him anymore.

“Hey, Princess!” You turn to see Yeosang standing next to a new guy with black hair. You smile wide as you walk over.

“What can I get for you sweetheart?” You question. Yeosang motions to the new guy next to him.

“This is Jihoon. I’m training him.”

“Hello Jihoon. I’m (Y/N).” You hold your hand out for him. He shakes your hand mirroring your smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Tell her what we need.” Yeosang nudges him.

“Um, a round of tequila shots.”

“Coming right up.” You walk off to fulfill the order. You come back with a tray full of tequila shots and lemons. They had salt at the table, so you didn’t have to get any. You hand the tray to Jihoon before sending them off.

“Thank you.”

You get back to working completely ignoring San singing. You didn’t want to look at him again. You just wanted to forget him. Why was that so hard? He hurt you, so why do you still love him?

You didn’t notice that the band had finished playing until Hongjoong had pushed you to his side of the bar. You didn’t realize why until you saw San walk up to where he normally stands next to you. You watched the two argue before someone got your attention.

You something wet hit your arm causing you to look. Some guy had spilt his beer all over the bar, you, and some girl. The girl shrieks before walking off to what you assume is the bathroom. You grab a wet towel and start to clean up the mess. That was until the drunk man grabbed your wrist.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing behind the bar?”

“What the fuck do you think?” You question. “Working. Now let me go.”

You try to yank your arm away from him, but he had a tight grip on you. One that was starting to hurt.

“I can show you a better way of making money. Especially with a body like that.”

“You wish. Let me go.”

You motioned for security to escort him out. That was until you saw a flash of black fly towards the man. You watch in shock as San punches the man so hard, he fell out of his seat. People gathered around as they watched San repeatedly punch the guy. Security and Red arrived and pulled San off of him. Security pulled the drunk guy out of the bar while Red yelled at San.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“He was assaulting your employee.” San yelled back at him. You looked down as the two men looked at you. Red started to understand why San had become so violent, but he still couldn’t have something like this happening in his bar.

“That’s why we have security guards.” Red told him. “My office now.”

Red shoved San as he didn’t want to listen at first. San looked at you one last time hoping that you would look back at him, but you didn’t. Your eyes stayed glued to the ground. That was until Hongjoong got your attention. He watched you nod at him before walking off for a break. He waited until you went to a safe area before walking off with Red.

You make your way to the employee bathroom. You turn on the cold water before splashing your face with it, trying to calm yourself down. You don’t understand why San was acting like this. He shouldn’t be acting hurt when he was the reason all of this happened. Even if he was regretful, he couldn’t change what he did. The only reason why he talked to you was for a bet. You knew that could’ve changed somewhere along the way. He could’ve ended things after you slept together, but he didn’t. He stayed with you for 3 weeks after that.

After drying off your face and sitting in the locker room for a good 10 minutes, you got up to continue your job. You pat Hongjoong on the back as you past him letting him know you were okay. You continued to put on a brave face as you served people for the rest of your shift. Last call was an hour later. Everyone got their last drinks before you two started to clean the bar. As you were cleaning, you heard someone clear their voice from behind you. You both turn to see Red standing there.

“You mind if I borrow you for a moment?” Red asked you. You turn to look at Hongjoong. You didn’t want him to clean up by himself.

“Go. I’ll handle it.”

You took at deep breath as you followed Red to his office. He opens the door letting you enter first. You sit in the chair in front of the desk while he sits behind it. You decided to speak first.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Red told you. “It wasn’t your fault, but someone does have to deal with the consequences.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“You know my rules. No fighting in my bar. Now, do I fire the guy who makes me money? Or the girl who I pay to work here?” Your heart dropped at his questions. He can’t fire you. You need this job.

“Please don’t.” You plead. “I need this job.”

Red looked unbothered as he shrugged his shoulders. “Not my problem.”

Red pulled out an envelope and handed it to you. You opened it to see your paycheck. You scoff as you look back up at him. He really was firing you for something you didn’t even do. You stood up from his chair as you made your way out of his office. Red said something as you opened the door.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

You turn to look at him. “Go fuck yourself.”

You slam the door shut before you walk to the locker room. You hurry over to your locker before pulling your stuff out. You were going to let anyone in this bar see you cry. You could hold it in until you got to your car. You throw your bag over your shoulder as you exit the building. You walk over to your car but stop when you see who’s leaning on the driver’s side.

“What do you want?”

San turned to look at you. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he.”

“No. I’m pretty sure the only one hurting me is you.” You respond. San’s shoulders dropped as you said that.

“Can we talk? Please.”

“I thought me blocking you was my answer to that.”

“You know me. I’m stubborn.”

“That you are.” You tell him. “Let me start by asking you something.”

San looked excited to talk to you. “Ask me anything.”

“Why do you keep hurting me?” You ask him. You could see him deflate when you ask him that.

“Angel, you have to understand that hurting you was something I never wanted to do.”

“But you did, and you keep doing it.” You blink, feeling the tears hit your cheeks. “Using me enough apparently. You got me fired San.”

“What?” He looked at you shocked.

“Someone had to pay for your stupid actions, and once again it was me.”

“I didn’t- Why would he do that?” San questioned. You shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“I know you’re struggling. Let me help you.”

“No, San.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Please leave me alone. I’m begging you.”

“Is that really what you want?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” San sighed. You could see his tears match yours. “I won’t contact you again. But just know that I never lied to you, not once. Especially when I say I love you. And that won’t change.”

“Goodbye San.”

“Goodbye Angel.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez san #san #san imagines #san reactions #san scenarios #kpop #kpop reactions #kpop sceanrios #kpop imagines #imagines #scenarios #reactions

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copaganda-clobberfest · 8 months

Note

What’s the white fang? Srry i don’t watch rwby

The White Fang is an organization made up of an in-universe minority group, the Faunus, who use violent (but successful) means in the hopes of achieving a set goal, being getting basic fucking rights for their people who, up until around the time the show begins if I recall, were being ENSLAVED.

But while in the first 3 seasons they were treated as Team Rocket Grunt: Black People Metaphor edition for our white mains to beat around, around volume 4 things quickly became incredibly sickening for me.

First of all, introductions of characters such as Fennec, Corsac, and Ilia— all of whom are non white characters even outside of their Faunus heritage, the former two being Muslim-coded and the ladder Lakota respectively— and said Lakota girl coming from a not-too privileged standpoint of someone who was orphaned by human doings, when her parents died in a mining accident that was never prevented by the company they worked for.

These characters are BAD Faunus, portrayed as violent and with the two Muslim-coded characters being portrayed as weirdly cult-y? (one basically kills himself/gets himself killed for the cause. I wish i was joking*) and the indigenous girl needing to be tamed by her much whiter friend due to her having been protesting “wrongly.” Indigenous people who protest against their treatment are to this day (as the bigotry and oppression faced by native peoples hasn’t gone away one bit) labeled terrorists.

The White Fang… are written to be terrorists. Terrorists who just want to take over the other and rule because “they (Faunus) are the dominant species.” This straight up sounds like propaganda you’d hear on the news during 2020. Shoot me.

The allusive leader of the white fang is barelt a character because she gets fridged the moment we see her and yet there is something to be said about her allusion. She is based of Shere Khan, a character from The Jungle Book,

written by the same guy that wrote the infamously racist “White Man’s Burden” poem in support of colonization and social Darwinism.

And then we get to Adam. Arguably the character apart of the white fang we saw THE MOST of, who in season 5 is suddenly this cruel, heartless asshole who only wants the Faunus to take over the white people I mean the humans.

And then in the season AFTERWARDS it’s revealed oh he never cared about the Faunus AT ALL HE JUST WANTED POWER BECAUSE HES JUST AN ABUSIVE ASSHOLE CUNT AND BTW you know the scene? The scene the writers included so that the viewers REALLY got just how evil Adam truly was?

They revealed Adam got fucking branded in the eye like a slave would be in 1800’s America. I wish I was kidding I really really wish. Branded with the initials of a human-owned, rich white company with… a German name. Schnee. Why do I point this out?

The name, Adam, is a Jewish name. It’s Hebrew. Fuck this show.

(sorry this is super rambly Anon just this topic makes me really mad in particular. Again, sorry!)

Edit:

*I worded this wrongly. He simply died for the cause, not outright offed himself or anything. My mistake. Still not a good look at all, but mistakes are to be corrected when I see them.

And no, this is not me trying to be some… “abuse apologist” for fictional characters. I am simply pointing out the fact the character was written this way, but also, what such a decision reflects onto the rest of the story. Plus… the (frankly poorly handled, that’s another day’s discussion) abuse storyline isn’t what we’re talking about. It’s the fucking racist writing perpetuated in this show.

But similarly to how it went in the show, the abuse storyline was able to cover up the racism for most people, as it nearly did me on an initial rewatch. Just like how Hama’s justifiable feelings towards the Fire nation were covered up by her blood-bending other people. The Flag-smashers’ ideals being covered up by them being terrorists. Killmonger wanting to improve the lives of black peoples globally being partially covered up by… you get the point.

Reblogs are turned of on this post for the meantime because I don’t want to start drama on what is meant to be a fairly harmless poll. Sorry for that.

#rwby #copaganda clobberfest #not a poll #rwby makes me break character sorry y’all.

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ymaohoh · 3 months

Text

Chrissy Cunningham is a Brat - Fic - Oneshot

Munson suddenly gripped hold of her ass so tightly she hissed. “If you’re going to behave like a brat, I’m going to have to punish you.” Jason sees Chrissy and Eddie in the woods. Jason POV. Hellcheer Oneshot.

Word Count: 1,904

No plot. Just smut.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

---

Well, your love is worse

Worse than cigarettes

Even if I had twenty in my hands

Jason Carver thought he knew his girlfriend.

Thought Chrissy Cunningham was just like him. They were from the same backgrounds - nice homes, rich parents, good traditional morals and ethics. They’d been boyfriend and girlfriend since junior year when he tied his letterman jacket around her shoulders and told her thought it was time they made it official. Over the course of that year they moved through the ranks and became really popular - he the hotshot athlete, she the pretty cheerleader - and when Chrissy made cheer captain in senior year he knew they were a cinch to be the King and Queen of Hawkins High. It was a cliche for a reason. His parents had met in a similar way.

And yeah that popularity came with side-benefits. And yeah he often abused those benefits because some kids needed a healthy dose of ass-whooping, you know? Needed to know which rung of the social ladder they belonged on. It stopped them from getting too big for their boots. He never did anything illegal but he sure bent some rules.

Chrissy didn’t know about any of that though and his team mates were sworn to secrecy. It was the same bro-code for their girlfriends. None of the teachers would dare make trouble either. His father was good friends with the school governors and would see they were fired if they dared try.

Chrissy was a good girl. She had the right attitude and ideals as him. She went to church and played at cheerleading and looked good and neat in her little uniform.

He would marry her after graduation. His parents would buy them a house nearby and she would give him a couple of kids and no talkback. She’d keep the house real nice while he went to college and in a few years he’d be fucking govenor. The wheels were already in motion. This has all been arranged before middle school.

So when Patrick told him he’d seen Chrissy talking to Eddie Munson of all people Jason told him he was tripping. Why would anyone want to speak to him?

Eddie Munson was a piece of shit trouble maker. Third generation trailer trash. A juvenile delinquent.

“I know what I saw, man. They were whispering together in the library just before first period. Chrissy near jumped into the air when she saw me.”

“Chrissy wouldn’t talk to that freak.”

“Want help finding him, Jase? Give him a reminder of what a creep he is?”

“Nah man. I need to talk to Chrissy first. Maybe he was just bugging her.”

What the hell?

But when he reached the cafeteria at lunch Chrissy wasn’t sitting at their usual table. She didn’t have one of her private tutoring sessions either. He glanced over at the freak table and his eyes narrowed when he saw Eddie wasn’t there either.

He stormed over and clapped one of the freshmen on the shoulder. Hard.

“Where’s your asshole leader?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Shouldn’t he be here making a jackass out of himself like usual?”

The kid with floppy black hair said, “Look man, he’s not here. I don’t know where he is. We don’t want any trouble.”

He asked around his table some more and eventually got wind of a clue. People wanted to help Jason (even if they needed a little encouragement sometimes). A passing cheerleader overheard (Stacey something) and said they thought they saw Chrissy out by the football fields just a few minutes ago. She’d been heading out towards the forest. There was a meeting spot down that way, she added, and Eddie Munson sold weed there.

Jason waved away Patrick’s offer of help and stormed over. He didn’t need back up to take on Eddie Munson.

He’d beat the shit out of that creep if he was selling weed to Chrissy. Or even if he wasn’t. What if he’d lured Chrissy out here on some made up pretence and was now bothering her? Chrissy was sometimes way too trusting for her own good.

I’ll save you, Chrissy.

He followed Stacey’s directions and crept through the woods. He’d never been out here before. He couldn’t see any damn bench.

But then he heard voices. He heard Chrissy’s voice! She sounded weird. Breathless almost.

He drew closer and peered through the trees. The scene before him made him pause. His insides turned to raging fire.

Jason had told her once that “ Good girls like you don’t go near creeps like Eddie Munson .” She hadn’t asked him why.

Chrissy was with Munson, alright.

Oh, this body high

Gives me sleepless nights

It's a million times what any drug could give

And my red eyes

They go twice as wide

It might look like pain but to me it's bliss

They were sitting at the old picnic bench. Or rather, Chrissy was sitting on the top of the picnic bench with her bare knees splayed wide. Her short green and white cheerleading skirt was hiked up so high that he could just about see the creamy skin of her ass.

And Eddie the Freak was standing right in between her legs.

Chrissy had her back to Jason so he could make out Munson’s arms wrapped around her waist. He was holding her so tightly the line of his leather jacket was pressed against Chrissy’s cheer sweater. At least she wasn’t wearing Jason’s God-damn letterman jacket today. He stared at the entwined couple in horror.

Jason didn’t know why he remained hidden. Maybe he just wanted to hear for himself what the hell was going on.

“Eddie…” she sighed in a voice he had never heard before. She never said his name like that. “We have to be more careful. Patrick almost saw us this morning.”

“Fuck Patrick. Fuck your boyfriend.” Munson’s voice was unrecognisable too. Low and raspy.

“If they find out what we’re doing, they’ll hurt you. You know they will. We have to keep this a secret.”

“It’s hard, Chriss. You know how riled up I get when I see you. Especially when you’re in that cheerleading uniform. How’s a man supposed to focus in class when those lips of yours look so fucking delictable. Makes me just want to taste them.”

Jason watched as they began to kiss but it wasn’t anything like how he kissed Chrissy. Chrissy usually held still when they made out, but this Chrissy was kissing Munson like she couldn’t get enough of him. He could see the way she opened her mouth wide for him so he could slip in his tongue.

Munson nipped at her neck and she giggled. “Eddie! You’re not listening to me.”

Munson’s hands were roaming across her back and down to her hips. Chrissy reached down and took his hand, stilling it.

“I’m listening, baby. We have to be more careful. No more little looks. No more notes. No way the school can find out that goodie two-shoes Chrissy Cunningham likes being fucked by the freak Eddie Munson.”

He rocked his hips up against her and she gasped at the impact.

“Like that, baby?”

“Mmm. You know I do.”

“Say it then. Tell me how much you like it.”

Jason couldn’t see but he could guess from the look on Munson’s face she was pulling one of her cute little pouts. She raised her chin defiantly. “Or what? You’ll walk away? I know you like this too. I can feel how much you like it. You’re fucking rock hard for me.”

Munson suddenly gripped hold of her ass so tightly she hissed.

“If you’re going to behave like a brat, I’m going to have to punish you.”

“What are you going to do? Spank me? Pull my hair?”

Munson ceased his movements and though he kept hold of her, he drew his hips back a little to put some distance between them.

Jason hated how Chrissy seemed to groan at that.

“You love it when I spank you, Chriss. You always get so fucking wet from it. Remember a month ago at Reefer Rick’s where you came so beautifully on my cock? I couldn’t believe how wet you were. You made the most pretty noises, baby.”

“I remember Eddie.”

“Then what did we do?”

“I put your cock in my mouth and you went down on me at the same time.”

“You tasted so good, Chriss. Like strawberries and cream. You were gagging ‘round my cock, babe. You got it so far down that little throat.”

Munson began tracing circles down her thighs. Chrissy was leaning into him brazenly, reaching again for contact with his body.

Jason didn’t recognise this Chrissy at all. It was like she was one of those girls on porn tapes. He heard the gentle clink of metal as Chrissy began undoing the heavy belt. The noise of a zip being dragged down was almost obscene.

“Oh Eddie, please. I want you now.”

“What? One look at my cock and you fall in line? Tell me what I want to hear.”

They kissed again and it was passionate and needy. Chrissy was almost shaking from want.

“I love being fucked by Eddie Munson.”

“You missed this cock didn’t you, princess? Tell me how much you missed it,” Eddie said, his voice low and quiet. He traced her face with his fingers and tipped her chin up

“I missed it so much. I couldn’t even pay attention in class. All I could think about is how much I want you.”

“Good girl.”

Munson dragged down Chrissy’s underwear and shoved it in his back pocket. He once again wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him. His other arm snaked under her knee, pushing it back so he could get as deep as possible.

Jason heard Chrissy hiss as Munson’s cock slid inside her.

“Fuck, Eddie. You’re so big. You feel so big inside me.”

“That’s it, baby. Take every inch in.”

“It feels so good.”

Munson began rutting up into her and Chrissy dug her nails into his shoulders. She then twisted a hand up into his long curls which made Munson groan.

“I know. It’s why you keep coming back. Fucking Carver won’t do this, will he? Wants to wait until he’s got that ring on your finger.”

“ Eddie …”

“But Carver won’t be able to do this, Chriss. It won’t feel like this.”

“No,” she moaned. “You’re so fucking perfect, Eddie. You fit inside me so good.”

“That’s it, Chriss.”

“Make me come Eddie. Make me scream.”

“Hold onto me, baby…I’ve got you.”

Jason couldn’t watch anymore.

Fuck this.

A big part of him wanted to charge over there and knock that disgusting smug look off Munson’s face. Wanted to wipe away that look of utter need from Chrissy’s. But he didn’t. He turned away and stormed off back towards the school.

Fuck that freak. Fuck that slut. They were welcome to each other.

He didn’t see Eddie’s gaze on his back. Or the winning smirk that played on his lips.

Well, if it's unhealthy then I don't give a damn

'Cause even if it kills me, I'll always take your hand

--------------

A/N: A/N: You know, writing for Jason ain't fun. He's an asshole but the actor who plays him is so nice in interviews. Ah well. Enjoy some Hellcheer fucking. Lyrics are from Unhealthy by Anne-Marie and Shania.

#chrissy x eddie #edssy #hellcheer #eddie munson #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons #chrissy cunningham #eddissy #pure smut #no plot #Jason Carver POV #brat kink

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jennycalendar · 5 months

Text

upside-down-y

“What do I do?” said Willow. She sounded so little in that moment. Suddenly, Jenny wasn’t imagining that woman in a clean-cut black suit and heels, but the little girl in striped sweaters and white tights. “If there’s no—word—for it? I like being a lesbian, or I thought I did, but I can’t call myself that if I like Oz. And I think I do.” “You don’t need a word for it,” said Jenny simply. “I need a word for it,” said Willow, a stress on the pronoun. “Maybe people in general don’t, but I do.” “Maybe there isn’t one.” “I need—” Willow’s breath hiccupped. “I need the words, a-and the rules. To make sure I don’t—” Abruptly, Jenny knew who Willow needed to be talking to.

decided that, in lieu of tonight's blogging, now might be a nice time to post a tumblr-only exclusive that i've not yet figured out how to work into the canon of what you make! i would like to write a larger fic about willow's adventures at some point, & also figure out when this development will happen within the timeline, and once i do, i think i'll understand better how to work this thing in. (but it is definitely what happens.)

this requires no knowledge of my sprawling fic 'verse except for: it's an everybody lives/nobody dies au, jenny and giles are together with their eight-year-old son, this is a few years post-series.

read for -- giles and willow having frank and very loving discussions about sexuality, jenny calling willow "baby" because she's now a mom who does that kinda thing, briefest sleepiest calendiles child cameo!!!

~~~~~

Willow called at some godawful hour, late enough for it to be edging towards early-morning and for Jenny to be too tired to check the time. She happened to have been pulling an accidental all-nighter that had spun out from a few lines of code that just would not cooperate, so she managed to catch the phone before the second ring, hoping that it hadn’t woken up anyone upstairs. The shrill tone felt impossibly loud to her tired ears. “’lo?” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

Anxiously, Willow said, “Jenny!” and then didn’t say anything else, her breathing nervous and rapid on the other end of the line.

“Willow.” Jenny was too sleepy to think. “You. Need something?”

“I don’t know! I just! Something happened and I can’t tell Buffy about it, and I can’t tell my mom, because she’ll think—well—she keeps saying she approves of the political implications of my lesbianism, so I feel like this is going to go over like a lead balloon, but I don’t know—I mean, I don’t think I’m straight again! It hasn’t—”

Jenny felt very much like this was a conversation that required her to be more awake than she was. Shuffling over to the kitchen table, she took a long sip of coffee. “The political implications?” she repeated skeptically.

“It’s just—we—” Willow took a wobbly breath in, then, in an exhaled confession: “I kissed Oz!”

For one bizarre, sleep-deprived moment, Jenny was convinced that she’d somehow been thrown back in time to 1997. “Oz?” she repeated. “Like, Oz, Oz?”

“Like Oz Oz!” Willow confirmed tearfully.

“Like your high school boyfriend Oz?”

“He was in Istanbul for some—thing—I don’t remember—and I wish I could say that we got drunk or high or something, but I was really only a little buzzed, and he was completely sober, and we were talking about everything we’ve been up to—he was the road manager for this really cool Eastern European band, and, and he’s been doing some networking with other werewolves, and oh, that’s part of why we met! We were talking about all of the complexities of connecting werewolves to resources that will help, and the stigma, and he’s really—well—he never really did much in high school, which I used to have such a complex about because I felt like he could do more than he was doing, but I guess I’ve changed because I just felt, I was so happy to see him doing things that mattered to him! And then that they also have a positive impact! And he’s still got that, that smile where when he looks at you, you sorta feel like you’re the only girl in the entire world! He still looks at me like I’m just the same, and I thought at first, you know, maybe that was why I felt all fuzzy and warm around him, because I’m a horrible person who gets off on validation, but then I started looking at him too and seeing that boy and—and—remembering—”

Jenny had absolutely no idea why any of this was a problem, but her ability to assertively interrupt the Willow-babble was significantly impaired when she was inches away from nodding off in between sentences. “Isn’t that good?” she tried, but Willow had not at all stopped talking.

“—and then we kissed and we actually did a little more than kissed, like, there was some over-the-clothes action and some grinding, except then when we stopped all of that, he walked me to my hotel! Like a gentleman! And he kissed me on the cheek and said he was really happy to share this moment with me, and who even does that??? What do I do now???? What if I’ve just—but I loved Tara so much! I still love Tara! I mean, I have NC-17 dreams about Tara, those wouldn’t happen if I’m straight! And I haven’t been with a guy since Oz, and I haven’t wanted to be with a guy since Oz, but now I want to—to call up Oz and be with him! Which, hello, so clingy, it was just one really nice month and then a whole bunch of kissing—”

“—wait, you’ve been spending a month with Oz in Istanbul and it’s only now become romantic?”

“WE WERE AT A CONFERENCE,” said Willow, as though this explained anything at all.

Jenny sat down at the kitchen table. “Willow—” God, she wanted to be asleep. “People can be bisexual,” she managed.

“But I’m not!”

“So you’re not into men?”

“But I am!”

She was going about this all wrong. “Baby. Are you into men or are you into Oz?”

A long silence. Then, timidly, “There’s not a difference, though, is there? You can’t be a real lesbian if—”

“Please God don’t turn into one of those witches,” said Jenny, who did not have the energy to be tactful. “Willow, there’s no way to be a real lesbian. There’s no manual. We define ourselves with the words that feel best for us, that’s what the queer community is about. What’s the word that feels best for you, right now?”

Another long silence. “I don’t know if the word is lesbian,” said Willow uncomfortably. “I don’t—I didn’t—really—question it? When it happened. It was Tara, first, and then Kennedy, and then a whole bunch of other girls, y’know, on account of the traveling, and then nobody at all for a little while, so I just—I wanted to kiss girls and I stopped looking at guys, and the only guy I ever noticed before Oz was Xander, and Xander, I didn’t know he was everything. They don’t tell you in high school what to do with someone who’s everything, they just say you should marry him if he’s a guy, but I don’t—I’ve never really wanted to marry Xander. We’re not like that. So I figured, Oz, he was just a fluke! Especially because of how everything with Tara happened, and I never thought any guy was pretty like I think girls are pretty, but—I don’t know. Oz is different. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Jenny leaned back against the wall, listening.

“I don’t know if the word is lesbian,” Willow repeated. “But—it doesn’t feel right to say that the word is bisexual, either. I’ve dated more girls than guys, now. I’ve built my life around imagining a girl there.”

“But Oz is different,” Jenny prompted.She was met with a tiny sigh in response. “Is that bad?”

“You don’t need a word for it,” said Jenny simply.

“I need a word for it,” said Willow, a stress on the pronoun. “Maybe people in general don’t, but I do.”

“Maybe there isn’t one.”

“I need—” Willow’s breath hiccupped. “I need the words, a-and the rules. To make sure I don’t—”

Abruptly, Jenny knew who Willow needed to be talking to. “Baby, can you just stay on the line?” she asked gently. “Just for a second, I gotta—” and she set down the phone, stepping quietly out of the kitchen and into the unlit hallway, halfway up the stairs to the little landing between the first and second floor, where the bedroom door was still ajar.

Her baby was asleep in the middle of the bed, curled against Rupert like a little puppy; his dozing father’s arm was round his shoulders. Jenny leaned over the bed, carefully untangling a drowsy Art from Rupert. Art, always cuddly in slumber, whined; she ran her fingers through his hair, and he settled. “Rupert,” she murmured, shaking her guy awake. “Rupert.”

“Mmh?” Rupert stirred.

“Rupert, it’s Willow.”

Rupert’s eyes flew open. She saw the panic and gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze, pressing her forehead briefly to his. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay. She’s okay. Nothing bad. She just needs to talk to you.”

~~~~~

Willow waited on the line, listening to the crackly static, trying not to breathe too loudly for fear it would tumble into crying before Jenny came back. She heard rustling on the other end and held her breath, waiting, until Giles, his voice all rough and sleepy like it got during those old early morning research sessions, said, “Hello, Willow.”

“Giles,” Willow all but sobbed, feeling a rush of relief. “Did—did Jenny—tell you?”

“Some of it,” said Giles. “Just the loose pencil sketch, really. But I’d like to hear it from you.”

Maybe the Oz stuff wasn’t really why Willow had called Giles. “How do you know when to stop playing by the roles you made up when you were twenty-two and trying not to be the kind of asshole who destroys the universe?” she said, all in one breath. “I, I didn’t decide I was a lesbian because of the magics, but I decided it while I was in the magics, and I wanted to be good at being a lesbian, but now I’m worried that I’m not, if, if I kissed Oz and I liked it. I don’t know what the word is for that.”

“Bisexual?” said Giles.

“That’s what Jenny said but it isn’t that!” said Willow tearfully. “And lesbian doesn’t feel like it’s right either, even though it did for years before this!I don’t know what it is! I like girls and I like Oz, but I don’t like—I don’t want—I don’t think I want, but I don’t know—I wasn’t trying to look, after Tara, because I thought it was simple as—”

“Does there need to be a word for it?”

“That’s what Jenny said!”

A soft, tender laugh, the likes of which Willow hadn’t heard since she was in high school. She loved that laugh so much. It always meant that Giles knew the answer, and really, the problem wasn’t anything to be that afraid of, and five minutes from now, the world would feel okay again. “Willow,” said Giles. “Nothing in a person’s heart is ever finite. We are always—always—growing and changing past the words we used to describe ourselves five, ten, fifteen years ago.”

“But what if I—” Willow swallowed. “What if I change wrong?”

Giles didn’t answer for a couple of the worst seconds of Willow’s life. Finally, gently, he said, “Then you right yourself, if you can. Lean on others, if you can’t. We’re all muddling through. There’s no certainty that I can give you, as much as I wish that I could, but I can—” Now it was his turn to pause. A heavy one. “I can tell you that I love you,” he said, finally.

She had never heard him say that to her before. Not that directly, anyway. “I love you too, Giles,” Willow whispered. The whole thing felt faintly unreal: that she could say those words, and not snatch them back. Not watch his face contort uncomfortably as he tried to wriggle out of genuine emotional expression. “I just don’t wanna do what I did to everyone. And I don’t—if I was wrong, if I’m not—”

“I don’t think that you were wrong,” Giles countered. “You used the words that made sense to you at the time. Those words might not make sense with who you are now. Who you’re growing into. This is good, Willow. You questioning this is good, and healthy. I think…you need to become comfortable with the notion of not having that neat answer, or that label, if the notion of a label has become…restrictive.”

“I don’t want to not be a lesbian,” said Willow unsteadily. “It made everything make sense, when I found out about that word—”

“Does it help you now?”

Willow exhaled. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know. I don’t want to not kiss Oz. It feels like I got turned all upside-down-y again.”

Giles was quiet again. Then he said, “When I was in my twenties, my group, it was all men, save one. Diedre. It hadn’t been intended, her being a part of the group. We’d all wanted a place to…to be ourselves, free of societal expectations.”

Willow’s heart flipped over. This was not something Giles had ever talked about. She’d known, of course—pieced it together through Ethan, and what she’d learned, later, about the kind of magic Giles got up to, but to hear it from him was completely different. She wanted to say something, affirm that she was there on the other end of the line, but she was halfway afraid that he would change his mind if he remembered that she was listening. She held her breath.

“I…didn’t mind the notion of including women within our group, even then.” Giles laughed softly. “It wasn’t something I talked about with the rest, but I wasn’t—I’ve never really—it’s always been about the person, for me, you see. Ethan and the rest, though, they…it wasn’t usual for them to, ah, prefer the company of a woman. They abhorred the very notion. But that was simply how special Diedre was. To, to all of us.”

Something tight and knotted in Willow’s chest was beginning to loosen. She sat down on the hotel bed, curling her fingers around the phone, listening like her life depended on it.

“You, you don’t need to have the right words for it, Willow,” said Giles gently. “Lord knows we didn’t know any of them. And I’d never—endorse—the other sort of things I got up to back then, but I, I think I’ve spent a lot of time refusing to engage with the parts of my life that have been…joyful. All because I was ashamed of the person that I was then.”

Willow wasn’t ashamed of high school Willow, exactly. It was just that sometimes it was hard to reconcile Willow-then with Willow-now, and that wasn’t even getting into the Willow-in-between. “So, for them, it was…guys plus the one exception,” she said uncertainly.

“Do you need to know what it was?” Giles’s tone was mildly pointed. Instructive.

“If I don’t—”

“What if you don’t?”

“I mean, that’s why I’ve been traveling,” said Willow, halfway timid. “To learn stuff.”

“And what have you learned?”

Willow closed her eyes, half-afraid of the answer. Oz had smiled at her in the light of the full moon, unencumbered, gentle. He’d listened to stories about Tara and Kennedy and everyone with thoughtful patience. He hadn’t made a single move. The kissing had happened by accident, and because she’d initiated it, and the nice thing about Oz was that he didn’t question that. He didn’t have a whole bunch of things to say about whoa, hold on, didn’t you go gay and change your mind about me? He just smiled at her, like he saw her, saw right down into her bones, and like what he saw was good.

And she’d missed him so much. The pinwheeling way he talked about things had baffled her when she was in high school, but now, after years of traveling, it was nice to be with someone who had just as many strange questions and quiet observations as she’d been collecting herself. She liked hearing him tell his stories. She liked him. She liked the person he’d become, and the person that she was with him. The people that they could maybe be together.

“I think I’ve learned that I wanna kiss Oz again,” she said, barely a whisper.

She could hear the smile in Giles’s voice. “That’s lovely, Willow,” he said. “I’m very happy for the both of you.”

~~~~~

Giles went back to bed. Jenny and Art had taken up just about all of it, making it nigh impossible for him to lie down comfortably. An attempt to nudge Art a bit further towards the middle was met by an unhappy, half-awake whine that positively tore at his heart, so he resigned himself to sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the bed for three minutes before Jenny, half awake, said, “Honey. Are you being stupid again?” and pulled Art against her like a teddy bear, clearing space for him in the middle.

“Don’t solve all of my problems for me,” said Giles, lying down and reaching to squeeze her shoulder. Their arms encircled Art, who turned his head towards his mother, soft dark curls against her sweater.

#fic #never mind the years of wasted time #giles and willow #jenny and willow #AND:#willoz #BUT only in the background!!!!#this is a fic that truly belongs on ao3. but i have to work some stuff out first

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sydsrichie · 1 year

Text

'til queendom come, ch. 2

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 4,944

summary: the prince and the lady had loved each other since childhood, and it was plain for all to see. But what had drawn them to each other in the first place - their valour and virtue - threatened to tear them apart as they found themselves on opposing sides of a cruel war.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters

a/n: all likes, reblogs, replies, tags, asks are massively appreciated and fuel me to keep writing <3

The Queen’s solar had the gloom of an autumn morning and a fire crackling in the grate, spreading warmth and light to the younger members of House Targaryen as they waited for their teachers. The septa assigned to Princess Helaena and Lady Visenya had been late in arriving that morning - some business with the High Septon that required her attention - so the small Princess and the smaller Lady had instead sprawled out on the rug before the hearth. Tossed to one side were their copies of the Seven Pointed Star for their religious studies, and instead they turned their interest to books they’d pulled off of the shelves around them. “Sena, are you frightened of spiders?” The elder of the two girls asked.

Lady Visenya raised her head from where she was studying a chapter on honeybees. “No, I don’t think so. They are gentle enough if you leave them be. Like dragons.”

“Dragons? Gentle?” Helaena seemed puzzled, but more curious than dismissive. She did not avert her gaze from where she was tracing an illustration of an inky black, long-legged spider.

“Well, yes. Everyone thinks them feral and violent, but all they really want is to be left in peace,” the younger girl frowned. “Like Grey Ghost. He only gets tricky when the dragonkeepers won’t leave him be.”

Helaena nodded thoughtfully. “But he is not tricky with you? Like Dreamfyre is gentle to me.”

“Yes,” Sena said, “perhaps, it’s like… family. When the King or Queen gives you a hug or a kiss, it feels… nice. But when it’s some hoary old great aunt thrice removed, it’s rather vile.”

Helaena covered her giggle with a hand. “Sena!” She scolded, but the girls bowed their heads together and laughed anyway.

The sound of their laughter was the final straw for their fellow student, who sat at a desk under the window. “What are you two whispering about?” It was a rare occasion for Prince Aemond to be drawn out of his books, but he was glowering at them now over the top of his massive tome on dragonlore.

“Nothing!” Sena said as Helaena continued to giggle. “It’s a secret, a girl’s secret.”

Aemond rolled his eyes as though he could not think of anything more ridiculous. “Well, if you wish it to stay a secret, you might lower your voice,” he grumbled.

Helaena laughed at that, “Sena, perhaps we should write our secrets down in code! Then we can write secret letters to each other, and the septa and mother and stinky princes won’t be able to read them.”

“That is genius! Oh wait, where was it-“ the younger girl reached to grab a different volume from her small stack of stolen books. “I actually read something the other night about an invisible ink. We could write to each other with it and only the other will know how to make it appear!”

That finally piqued the interest of the boy prince. “Invisible ink?” He said, “How?”

Sena turned to scowl at him, her mess of dark curls looking distinctly unbrushed. “It’s not going to be a secret if we tell you, Aemond,” she pointed out.

He could not argue with the logic, but he also could not hold his curiosity at bay. He looked down at the book before him, an ancient tome in High Valyrian that told tales of their true home and the vast creatures that had ruled its skies. “I’ll trade you,” he said, faster than he could formulate the thought. Sena made no secret of how boring she found the studies her Septa gave her - womanly studies of needlework and piety, niceties and platitudes. She always had impertinent questions and complaints, or slipped in to Aegon and Aemond’s lectures on history or statesmanship instead. And she was always first out the door when it was time to put down the books and head to the training yard. She is a Visenya, indeed, the maester would mutter. Like her wretch of a father, Aemond had overheard the septa cursing after Sena had slashed at her needlework with a dagger when she was too frustrated to fix her shoddy stitches.

Sena paused, her violet eyes darting between Aemond and the book before him. “What have you got?” She asked in a lilting, curious tone.

That made Aemond grin. Girls were so predictable. He pushed back his chair with a scrape and heaved the book off the table. “It’s about the dragons of Old Valyria - it has illustrations and everything!” He said excitedly.

“Well, come on then!” Sena insisted, patting the space on the carpet between her and Helaena, who was nodding eagerly.

And that was how the Queen found them hours later, trading drawings of dragons for secret ink recipes. Helaena became particularly enamoured with an illustration and description of a dragon with an elongated neck, and Sena liked the vivid depictions of the sowings, where young Valyrians of high houses would take to the dragon pits, risking life and limb to claim their mount. The Queen let out an exasperated sigh from the doorway, taking in her middle children and her husband’s ward, sprawled on the rug. “Have we done much learning this morning, then?” The children all startled satisfyingly enough for the Queen, who tried to hide her amusement behind a frown. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Mother, we were learning about dragons!” Helaena said quickly. “It is important, we are dragonriders after all!” She seemed to realise what she had said a moment later, watching Aemond’s face fall. “Or we will be.”

Alicent watched her sweet boy’s expression go serious and hastily changed the subject. “So when neither your septa nor your maester appeared for your lessons, did it occur to any of you to come find me?”

The children all shared a look that said they had thought of it but had deemed it unnecessary. The Queen pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and sighed, the portrait of an exasperated mother. First, she’d had to deal with Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin exchanging wistful glances in the King’s audience this morning, now her own children and niece were in open rebellion. “Right, well, you’d best be off to your afternoon classes then. Aemond, to the training yard. Girls, I will escort you to your needlework and ensure your septa is on time.”

“But-“ Sena began.

“Sweet Sena, we’ve had this conversation many times before, and I do not know how to explain it to you in a way you will understand, but it is not my jurisdiction whether you play at swords or stitching,” she said, exasperated but not unkind. “Now, off you go,” she said, and shepherded them on their way.

Part of her felt for the girl, truly. Over the years, Queen Alicent had become protective of Daemon’s castoff, as she was the first child other than her brothers that Princess Helaena had shown any true interest in. They might not have much in common - Visenya was more a child of action where Helaena was more given to contemplation - but there was a mutual understanding between the two girls of what it was to be an outsider amongst the other young girls of the court. Helaena liked how straightforward Sena was, how she said what she meant, but also how kind she was, never casting judgement on someone for the crime of being a little bit different. And Sena in turn was deeply protective of Helaena. It seemed she almost compulsively leapt to the defence of the underdog.

It was a trait that Alicent sometimes observed Sena extending to Aemond, as well. Her middle son was a more thoughtful and sensitive boy than her eldest, which often caused the other boys - her own Aegon and the so-called Velaryons - to be cruel to him. But Sena had little patience for it. It was the willingness of the little girl to bite back against a future king and put him in his place that had first made Alicent see her as a potential future queen. A marriage that would bring Prince Daemon to their cause and make Prince Aegon fall in line - two birds with one stone, as the saying went. It was something Alicent had spent long evenings musing over with her father when he visited the capital. But it would all be for nought if Daemon continued to sojourn himself on the other side of the world.

Nevertheless, Alicent resolved to keep the girl close. Sena’s mornings were spent with Helaena and Aemond in the Queen’s solar for their lessons - Aegon would join them too when he hadn’t been drinking too heavily at supper the night before. In the afternoons, the boys would take to the training yard with their Velaryon cousins and the girls would be sent to the sept to say their prayers and practice their needlework. Lady Visenya would sneak in to sword practice when she could, and the King was loathe to scold her for it. House Targaryen had a long and proud history of able swordswomen after all, and the girl had been allowed to train as she wished in her years at Runestone and Dragonstone. However, many of the lords and knights of the court did find it unsightly, and Sena was often confined to needlework with Princess Helaena and practicing swordplay by herself with a stolen training dummy.

The women of her house had sympathy for her, however, and that day in particular, Princess Rhaenyra took pity on her as she watched her dragging her feet behind Helaena, on the way to the sept. “Lady Visenya,” she said, bringing the girls to a halt. “I will be spending the afternoon checking my household’s ledgers, but I’m afraid the books are too heavy and too high on the shelves for me to lift in my condition,” she said, resting her hands on the bump under her skirts. “Do you think you could excuse yourself from your lessons to help your cousin?”

There was no mistaking the glee on the girl’s face, like sunshine breaking through the clouds. She looked to Princess Helaena and said, “Could you tell the Septa?”

“I’ll miss you…” Helaena said quietly, but then gave a nod. “See you at supper?”

Sena gave an eager nod and then followed her elder cousin back up the hallway with a spring in her step.

Princess Rhaenyra had a longstanding fondness for girls with fire in their veins, and she doted on Sena when she could, wishing the gods would give her a daughter sooner rather than later. Maybe this time, she thought as her baby managed a well-timed kick. She grimaced.

Sena paused where she was currently on a step ladder, pulling heavy, leather-bound ledgers from the shelves. “Are you alright, Princess?” she asked. “Does it hurt?”

“No, little one,” Rhaenyra said with a soft smile. “The baby just gave me a little nudge, is all.”

Sena carried the books down the ladder with her, clutched to her chest, and laid them on the table in front of the Princess. “Is it not scary, Princess? Having a whole baby inside of you?” She asked quietly, her eyes transfixed on Rhaenyra’s tummy.

Slowly, so as not to spook her, she reached out and took Sena’s hand in hers, and pressed it to her belly, hoping she might feel the little kick-kick. This was Rhaenyra’s third child, and she liked to think she was past the fear of it all now, after Jace and Luke were born big and strong. But the fear never truly went away, and she knew the petrified look on the little girl’s face, felt it every time she thought about her own mother. “It is scary, my lady. I won’t lie to you, I was scared too when I was your age. But it is also wondrous. To make life inside of us… it makes us like goddesses, does it not? To be ladies of House Targaryen, to ride dragons and birth dragonriders, makes us closer to godliness than any other living being. And you will have your own line to continue one day, my Lady of Runestone.”

In private, Rhaenyra would promise the young lady what was hers by right and what had been taken from her on account of her sex. When the girl’s lady mother had died, Prince Daemon had been told in no uncertain terms that he was not welcome in the Vale of Arryn, and House Royce had been reticent to see their seat pass to a girl of Daemon Targaryen’s blood, looks and name. And so another woman was denied her birthright because of what was between her legs. But it would not be so when Rhaenyra was Queen. Sena would have what she was born to.

Sena looked up, and held Rhaenyra’s gaze with glassy eyes. To hear herself called the Lady of Runestone made the young girl’s heart sing, a sense of belonging she had never felt before filling her. For the simple kindness, she had much love for her elder cousin. “Will you be there when it happens, Princess? Can you hold my hand?” She asked in a tremulous voice. She had heard Rhaenyra’s screams echoing through the halls of the Red Keep the day Lucerys was born.

Rhaenyra smiled and smoothed back the girl’s wild hair. “Your lord husband will be there, holding your hand, my lady,” she said, thinking of the way Ser Harwin had refused to leave the room and mopped her brow when Jacaerys and Lucerys came. “But yes. I will be there for you too, if you wish.”

-----

The only lessons the children took altogether were in the Dragonpit, practicing commanding their dragons. None of the children could rival the command that Princess Helaena had over her own Dreamfyre as they took to the sky together, a singular bond and loyalty between them that was unusual even amongst dragonriders. So the rest were kept to the earth for the time being, practicing commanding their beasts until the dragonkeepers were satisfied they would not be thrown to their deaths at first flight. Prince Aegon had age on his side and had formed a steady bond with his Sunfyre, which he was quite happy to gloat about to all who would listen. Jacaerys and Lucerys in turn were steadily forming their bonds to their hatchlings, not yet large enough to ride. And Sena had the unenviable task of convincing a wild dragon to bend to her will. “Ao geron iā qopsa geralbar” the dragonkeepers told her, you walk a difficult road.

As for Aemond, he spent much of his time simply observing - or rather, sulking. There was no dragon unclaimed in King’s Landing and, try as they might, the eggs they incubated had not yielded any hatchlings. His mother, father, Ser Criston Cole, the dragonkeepers, the maesters, Helaena and Sena would all tell him that his time would come, but it was of little comfort to the dragon prince without a dragon.

So it was little wonder that when the boy’s brother and nephews took it on themselves to play a cruel prank on him, Aemond had been more than willing, almost desperate to believe that a dragon had been found for him. The sight of the snorting and snuffling Pink Dread had made him go hot with shame and he fled.

“Hey,” barked Sena Targaryen, “Leave him alone! Pathetic, stupid boys- Aemond, wait!”

But Aemond did not wait, instead racing into the caverns below the Dragonpit to hide his shame from the others. The laughter from the other boys haunted his steps as he ran, but Sena’s steps echoed after him.

“Aemond!” She called, her shorter legs causing her to lag behind.

Aemond’s cheeks were wet with tears, his chest heaving when he eventually gave in. He stopped and turned back so suddenly that Sena nearly crashed into him, her own small chest struggling to drag in enough air. “What?” He snapped at her, grateful for the dark caverns hiding his wet cheeks.

Sena just looked at him for a second, struggling for breath and for words. Instead, she gazed around her, getting her bearings, and then beckoned for Aemond to follow her. For a moment, he considered refusing, but then the vastness and danger of the place he was in seeped past his fury, and he knew it was wiser to stay with her. Sena had knowledge of this place, after all, as it housed her own dragon. She and Helaena faithfully came every sundown to see that their dragons were fed and sated.

It was to Grey Ghost’s haunt that Sena took him now. A sharp left, a long corridor, and then a slight incline, the only light coming from a shaft in the cavern roof. She stuck out her arm to stop Aemond from going any further forward and it was just as well, as he heard a pebble he disturbed bouncing down into a gulf before him. “Careful,” she whispered, then turned back to the vastness before them.

“Grey Ghost!” Sena called into the darkness. There was an ominous thud of a clawed foot hitting rock. But the most illusive of the dragons seemed to recognise his master’s voice, as there was no sudden and searing death for Aemond. “Grey Ghost, dohaeris,” Sena said, and the dragon growled a low, tremulous sound in response. There was the sound of scraping metal as Sena reached off to the left and pulled something to her side. “It’s just a torch,” she murmured to Aemond, and then turned back to her dragon who was skulking in the dark. “Dohaeris, Grey Ghost, ōños,” she said.

The word was faintly familiar to Aemond, but the meaning did not occur to him until there was a blast of silver flame spiralling directly towards the two children. Light, it meant light. He let out a sharp sound - not a scream - and grabbed at Sena, attempting to pull her back, but the girl stood firm. The silver flame hit the torch in her hand and a yellow fire sprang to life on its head. Aemond had to squint to protect his eyes from the sudden glare of light, but he could see Sena smiling broadly. “Kirimvose,” she called to her dragon, thank you. The reclusive dragon growled its assent.

“You could have warned me,” Aemond ground out, his heart still leaping in his chest.

Sena only snorted, “and miss the chance to hear you scream like a maiden?”

Aemond huffed indignantly. “I did not scream.”

“Mhm,” was all Sena said, still grinning widely, and put the torch back in the brazier to the left of the entrance. Then, she set herself down on the edge of the precipice that fell into Grey Ghost’s enclosure, and patted the spot next to her. Aemond begrudgingly sat down next to her.

“My egg did not hatch,” Sena said, almost speaking to herself. “When I was born, my father brought an egg from the Dragonmont for me. The maester said it did not hatch because the sea journey from Dragonstone to the Vale was too rough and cold, and the egg was dead on arrival. But I always thought it meant I was no true Targaryen. What other reason could there be, after all, for my hair being brown and my father ignoring me? I wasn’t a true Targaryen, and I wasn’t a dragonrider.”

Aemond watched her uncertainly. He’d always liked the dark of her hair and her eyes. There was a depth there that was absent in his own white hair and softer, lavender eyes, something hidden and shifting. “You are a dragonrider, though. It worked out alright in the end,” he said, rubbing at the remaining dampness in his eyes.

“I didn’t know that. Not for a long time,” she said, watching the faint shadow of the ghostly dragon set itself down to sleep at the far end of the cavern, sometimes turning his shivering pale eyes on his master and her companion. It was known that Grey Ghost had poor sight for a dragon, his eyes gone as milky pale as his underbelly after so long spent in the dark recesses of Dragonstone’s sea caves. “What are you afraid of, Aemond? What does not having a dragon mean to you?”

He turned his customary scowl on her. Why were they even having this conversation? An insipid girl, his sister’s silly friend, enquiring about his deepest thoughts and feelings. But yet… was she the first person to ever even ask him such a thing? It was strange, the way someone even just wanting to know and thinking to ask was a balm to his wounded pride. “Same as you, I guess,” he muttered. “I’m no man, no Targaryen without a dragon. My father is a king and rode the last dragon that hatched in Valyria. Your father warred on the Stepstones with his. My brothers both hatched their dragons as babes, and Dreamfyre may not have been hatched to Helaena, but she might as well have been for how closely they are bonded. They - my half-sister, her husband and my nephews, are all dragonriders. What am I, what place do I have in this family, in… in what is to come, if I do not ride a dragon?”

Sena frowned at him. In what was to come? Perhaps he just meant his future, as a prince of the realm. Or perhaps… there was a heavy undercurrent of tension in their family that seemed to dog their every moment and Sena did her best to ignore. She might have been a child, might have been new to the intrigue of the court, but she would have to be blind and deaf not to sense the thickness in the air between the Princess and the Queen. “You will, Aemond. As sure as the sun sets and rises, you were meant to be a dragonrider. Helaena says so, and everything Helaena says is true,” she said with a grin. “You just… have to be patient. Maybe it is just that you were meant for greater things than a hatchling. You’re braver than Aegon, smarter than Jace and Luke. You think further ahead and more like the adults do than any of us. If you don’t believe me, we’ll go to your father’s library if we must and find a book on our house and their dragons. The great men of this family ride great dragons,” she said with a lilt in her voice, nudging her shoulder against Aemond’s.

It brought a small flicker of a smile to the boy’s lips. “You truly think so?”

“I know so,” she said, deep eyes meeting his light ones. “And your idiot brother and nephews reek of boys who have never had to earn anything.”

Aemond laughed at that. “And what have we had to earn, my lady? We live in castles and dress in silks.”

Sena looked at him as if it was obvious. “Love,” she said simply, “no one gave it to us freely, did they?”

The answer stunned Aemond. For a second, he didn’t know what to say. He just… thought, watching the brazier flicker in the darkness, casting long shadows on the cavern and on Sena’s features. His father and grandfather had never looked his way for more than a second, it was true, and Aegon had the capacity for brotherly love of a fish on land. Even his mother had spent much of his childhood distant, sometimes seemingly locked in a prison of her own creation. It hadn’t been until he was old enough to chew out Aegon and fend for Helaena that she’d seemed to take much note of him. But then- “that’s not true,” he said, “Helaena has always loved us freely.”

Sena looked a little ashamed for a second, but then broke into a smile at the thought of her gentle cousin. “You’re right, of course. How silly of me. Gods, don’t tell her I said that-“

“I know what you mean, though. Absent mothers, vacant fathers… are you truly as lonely as I am, Sena?” He felt a fool for not realising it sooner.

“No, not now,” she said, placating him with a smile. “Now I have Helaena, and you, of course, and your mother and Princess Rhaenyra. But yes, there were times… times before Grey Ghost,” she said, her eyes falling onto the distant shadow of her dragon, “where I felt so alone I thought I might be invisible.”

Aemond swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. They were more alike than he realised, then. Was that what had brought her to that desolate cave outside a fishing town? Chasing after tales of a lonely dragon without a friend in the world? Part of her words however made his stomach twist. Your mother and Princess Rhaenyra. “Sena, I must tell you…” he said, the words leaving his mouth before he thought to speak them. His mind drifted to conversations overheard between his mother and grandfather when they both thought him asleep. One of their many plots before the burning hearth.

“Aemond?” She asked, her gaze catching on the graveness of his expression.

“I don’t tell you this to hurt you,” he said, reaching across the space between them and taking one of her hands in his, “it’s important that you know that. I’m telling you this because… you are kind, Sena, but you are too gentle, too trusting.” Maybe because of the absent mother, the distant father, the girl would take whatever love was given to her without inspecting it too closely. Sena watched his expression, puzzled. “My half-sister, Princess Rhaenyra… she’s trying to buy you, Sena. Buy your loyalty. They’re both- the Princess and the Queen, they’re both courting their allies. The dragons and friends and where the loyalties lie. They both want you and Grey Ghost, but mostly, I think they want your father. He will be important.” Aemond got the sense of his uncle that he was not so much a man you wanted as a friend but a man you definitely didn’t want as an enemy.

“I- my father?“ Sena’s voice caught in her throat. Her palm was sweating in Aemond’s, and she gripped him. “What are you saying?”

This was a betrayal of his mother’s trust in him. He knew that, but what was he supposed to do? Let this girl who had never missed a chance to speak up for him walk blindly into either of the traps laid for her? There was no question that she had to get smarter and sharper and she had to do it fast - their years of childish innocence were numbered. King’s Landing was a nest of vipers and he was not his grandfather, he would not guide her hand from the shadows. She deserved better than that.

Maybe he could give her the first strike on the whetstone, then? The first blow with which to sharpen herself? “Sena, I overheard my mother and my grandfather speaking. Princess Rhaenyra means to buy you with Runestone. She knows your birthright will buy your loyalty, and the incomes may go a long way to buying your father’s. And my- my mother, the Queen, means to betroth you to Aegon. She thinks if she makes you Queen, that will bring your father onside.”

Sena’s face twisted into a horrified expression at that. “Aegon is vile-“

“But he will be King,” Aemond said with cold certainty.

She was bewildered. “Rhaenyra is next in line, then Jace, then his children, Aemond. You know this.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Aegon will be King,” Aemond insisted. “Think about it. Do you truly think my mother and grandfather will stand by and let Princess Rhaenyra and her bastards take Aegon’s birthright?”

“Aemond, what are you talking of?”

He gave her an imploring look. “Rhaenyra’s sons are not the sons of Laenor Velaryon, Sena.”

“How? How could they not be? They are married-“

Aemond looked at her, aghast. Did she truly not know? “Gods, Sena, I knew you to be mad, going around mounting wild dragons, but I did not take you for a fool too.”

Sena’s eyes flashed at him, a flicker of anger painted on her fine features and the flush of embarrassment rising in her cheeks. “Watch your tongue, Aemond.”

“Open your eyes, Sena,” he bit back, his jaw set. “My father is not a well man. This will all be upon us before the next summer comes. And we need to be ready when it does.”

She ground her teeth together and seethed, clearly still not happy with him, but she at least seemed to be listening. “So your mother means to wed me to your brother? Make me Queen?”

Aemond looked down at where their hands were still joined and his stomach rolled. “You would make a good queen, in time. A fair one.”

“I don’t want to be Aegon’s queen,” she snapped, glaring down into her lap at their fingers knotted together. Her certainty, her virulent rejection of his brother made something strange wake inside of him, but he was old enough now to know that nothing was as simple as that.

Unless… unless it could be? Unless they could make allies of each other and find a way to work together, change how they were being shunted around the board by their parents?

He gave her hand a squeeze, and she brought her gaze back to him. “If you don’t want to be his queen, then learn to play,” he told her, “and change the game.”

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond one eye #hotd #tumblr if u keep messing up my posts i will commit war crimes

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spyrkle4 · 9 months

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Reaction to the post ch2 pt 1 trivia : D

i’m putting under a read more in case you don’t want ~spoilers~ but I just wanted to share my thoughts on some of the fun facts from asking the drdt dev right here

-I didn’t know that America Hope’s Peak was basically college so I feel like all the college au writers in the fandom are vindicated rn XD

-Xander being sneaky w/ his tounge piercing to bend the “no piercing” rule at his school. Xander would be that kid who bends the school rules esp the dress codes

-Someone asked drdt dev what David’s new default sprite was and dev does answer and shows the sprite of him w/ one of his hands gesturing out and I cackled XD like of course that would be his default sprite

lowkey I wanna draw him w/ nail polish now

-The confirmation that Richard Spurling and Duke Spurling are brothers

-Someone did a post theorizing that Duke was probably alive during the Tragedy era and was influenced by Despair which. has me screaming fr

honestly I love the lorebuilding that is the post-Tragedy era for drdt’s setting I need more of this in my life

-Veronika canonically being confirmed to be pan is something I did not see coming but it makes 100% sense

-Also Ace being gay gives me strong “homophobic homosexual” vibes (sorry not sorry)

-Charles being under the impression a dog bite scar he has is a birthmark has me ?????? bro got gaslighted fr can we talk about this. Charles blink twice if you need help

-Levi having an unruly sweet tooth makes me laugh, he would’ve eaten that whole cake in chapter 1 if he could, wouldn’t he XD

-Teruko’s least fav color being black and Nico’s least fav color being white bc “unsettling” gives me the vibes it’s bc of the whole “people in drdt-verse are conditioned to be unsettled by monochrome things”

-Ace having 9 siblings. I’m. I have questions. Also the fact that he sometimes wishes he was shorter (bc of jockeying) is lowkey a mood and i hate it

disclaimer: I’m not a jockey I just wish I was shorter

-Rose’s favorite ice cream flavor being red velvet

-Rose’s art mostly being paints (specifically oil paints)

-Her entire family being flower themed (SHE’S ALSO THE MIDDLE CHILD AND SHE HAS 2 MOMS. I LOVE HER)

drdt dev tysm for the Rose facts she is my favorite (please don’t kill her)

-the concept art of beta Arei holding a glock. She’d be that kid to point a nerf gun at someone and go PEW PEW PEW

-OH MY GOD DEV ANSWERED MY ASK ABOUT THE SIBLING CHARACTERS WHICH IM VERY HAPPY ABOUT

-Also I stan Ryan Rosales

-Xander overseasoning his foods is a hilarious concept to me, I also have the mental image of him being able to enjoy really spicy food due to his poor sense of taste and everyone around him being like “?!?!?!?!?!?!”

-DAVID WEARS HAIRCLIPS BC HIS MANAGER TOLD HIM TO I’M?!?!?!

-HE HAS A MANAGER?!

Disclaimer: I know nothing about the inner mechanisms on how an inspirational speaker does their job

-Whit being the best chef makes me feel validated af about the time I wrote charwhit cooking

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt trivia #just sparks things #i'll add to this if/when the dev adds more fun facts #but omg these are so much fun #drdt spoilers

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ceilingfan5 · 1 year

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[id: a simple drawing of a sun wearing sunglasses and smiling]

HEY idk about you but the weather has been shitty here and i have been aching for sunshine so i have manufactured some with my bare hands

here is nearly 4,000 words of taakitz ridiculousness, while i take a break from my cruise fic, which was initially supposed to be a break from a different fic--it's fine. you get to eat these delicious words don't WORRY about it.

go read As Luck Would Have It (rated T) if this sounds like it will warm your bones and make you smile:

Kravitz gets invited to a weird party and then the only person he knows there disappears, so he ends up having to get friendly with the host. But that's a good thing.

or read it below but again it is 3.7k: (minor warning for brief mentions of alcohol)

“So, got your goth speedo ready?” Sloane needles, throwing her arm around Kravitz. He nearly gets knocked over and the guy behind them in the coffee line looks a little annoyed that she’s butted in, but not enough to be unpolite about it yet.

“My fucking what now?” Kravitz half-drags her forward as the next shmuck in line gets a frothy caffeine milkshake.

“I thought I told you that we’re goin’ to a beach party tonight. What’s the problem? I know you don’t work tomorrow. I have your gcal and everything. No escape.”

“Well,” Kravitz says, fishing for an excuse and coming up fishless. “It’s, listen, I know it’s April, but it’s supposed to snow tonight. The weather is garbage, and you want to have a beach party?”

“Uh, for one thing, it’s not my beach party, it’s Tres Horny Boys’ beach party-”

“What.”

“And for another-” they move up in line again, Sloane making it no easier on him. He’d have more to complain about if it wasn’t really nice, having someone lean on him after a long day at work. “It’s inside, so you have no excuse.”

“What am I supposed to do, come in a bathrobe?”

“Whatever floats your goat. Either way I said you’d be coming, so whatever your evening plans were-”

“Watching youtube until I pass out, I think?” They’re almost to the counter. Soon he will be buzzing enough to handle this.

“Cancel them! You’ve got places to be!”

“Hey, Sloane? Not to sound like Winnie the Pooh-”

“Great start, continue.”

“But- oh bother .”

“That’s the spirit!”

Kravitz does not know how to dress for a beach party in the warmest, buttered-toastiest weather, so dressing for a beach party in the literally-beginning-to-snow ass weather was vexing beyond measure. Much laying on the floor about it had to happen. But god as his witness, he is going to follow the fucking rules, and he ends up in long black shorts, a casual black short sleeved shirt over a band t-shirt, and a scarf and gloves. He goes back and forth on the hat. It ends up jammed in his pocket on the way to the front door of the Tres Horny Household.

He wishes he had come with Sloane. He’s afraid he won’t know anyone here. He’s been spiraling about parties and their insurmountable social nature for the last several hours since their coffee moment, but now new and fresh terrors assault his imagination. What if he took the dress code wrong? What if he has nothing in common with the guests? What if Sloane wasn’t allowed a plus one? What if-

The door opens. Music spills out, jaunty and warm and unseasonable. The guy standing in the heavenly rectangle of light, illuminated like some kind of angel royalty, puts his hands on his hips and squints at Kravitz.

He is absolutely wearing swim trunks and not much else. There are novelty sunglasses propped on his head that look like sunshines, and the sunshines are also wearing sunglasses. Kravitz is incredibly aware of the snow. It is in his hair and everything. Blowing about like dollars in a horrible game show or something. Will he win the grand prize (out-of-season frostbite)?

“Hello,” Kravitz tries, great start, classic, tried and true, familiar, 4.8 stars, 14,956 reviews. “I’m- Sloane invited me, I- hello-”

“Hello,” surfing angel replies, looking incredibly amused at his squirming. “I was gonna let you ring the doorbell or something, but you were just standing there.”

“Guilty as charged,” comes out of Kravitz’s mouth, unbidden.

“Well, come into the beach, dork,” he says, biting back a grin. “I’m Taako. This is my party.”

Kravitz mumbles a thank you and moves into the very warm house, looking around and finding all sorts of brightly colored wildness. There are leis on nearly every surface, blow-up palm trees, surely at least fifteen beach balls at first glance, a photo background that looks like a shark’s open mouth, a literal kiddie pool filled with sand– real sand. What are they going to do with it when they’re done? How hard is it going to be to clean up?? Why did they think that was a good idea indoors? Why are three different people collaborating on an elaborate sand castle already??

“Food’s in the kitchen, you know the party rules, yeah? Key bowl’s over there if you’re planning on needing it.” Taako stretches and pops his back, and Kravitz glances away, cheeks warming. His soft middle is so touchable, is the thing. And this is a complete stranger he needs to demonstrate his good skills at being a regular person to.

So that he can get invited to the next bonkers party?? What’s the goal here? What’s the rubric??

“You good, cowboy?” Taako asks, slipping his hands into his board short pockets and making them slide down just a little bit more. He’s so pretty. His long hair is tied up, but what if it wasn’t? His eyes are glittering with the kind of mischief a person would need oodles of to plan such a ridiculous shindig, and Kravitz is distracted.

“Yuh-huh,” he says. Kravitz tugs at his short sleeve, feeling exposed. Some of his non-face skin is showing. He’s practically nude, here. “Have you seen Sloane?”

“Last I saw her,” Taako whistles softly. “She was filling water balloons to cause problems and kissing her girlfriend, so I assume she is either still doin’ that, or isn’t.”

“Thank you.” Very helpful. Super duper productive line of clues here.

“For sure.” Taako points out the shoe rack and nods his head as a song he must really like comes on. “Come try my food when you’ve found her. Hopefully you actually have a palate and won’t just shove shit in your mouth ‘cause it’s there like these chucklefucks. You look like a guy that chews his food.” He winks, and even though that’s an insane thing to say to someone you’ve just met, Kravitz is oddly pleased.

“Definitely. I will definitely chew your food.”

Taako giggles and covers his mouth, like the odd sound that came out of it could have been anything but supremely enchanting.

“I gotta go- be somewhere else,” he says, with serious confidence, and so Kravitz accepts it at face value and nods as Taako about-faces and skedaddles.

Kravitz debates leaving his gloves with his shoes. His hands are gold, but he doesn’t want to be a total goober. And should he? Or shouldn’t he?

It’s easy to get tangled up headphones style, but he crawls out of this pocket and leaves both behind.

Keeps the fuckin’ scarf on though. It’s cold. His knees are cold, even. Not that a scarf can fix that. But if he warms some of his blood, it can travel around and share that warmth with the rest of his body juice? Right? Probably?

Either way, he heads for a bathroom or something to find Sloane. Or not find her. But he’s going to start somewhere with a sink. If he gets hit by a water balloon later he will yell. Definitely. She’d better know that. The hallway is a little less loud, although he does accidentally kick into a beach ball on the floor. The light is off, and he breathes a little.

Nobody is in the bathroom, which will probably not stay the same for much longer, but right now that’s just a problem, because where is the only person at this entire party that he knows, actually?

He nearly bumps into something as he goes back into the hallway, and it turns out to be, not a coat rack, or a decorative table, or like, something a regular person would have in a regular house, but instead, yes really, a capsule machine.

Kravitz squints at it (once he has determined it is not at risk of tumbling and shattering on the carpet, where he will definitely step on the treacherous bits). He looks both towards the living room (lively, loud, beachy) and presumably the bedrooms (relatively quiet, only one door slightly open) and then again at the actual capsule machine. It looks a lot like a shiny red gumball machine, just rectangular and filled with little plastic acorns full of mysteries.

It’s incredibly tempting, is the thing. Kravitz has a few emergency quarters in his pocket. You know, just in case. And obviously it is here for a reason, right? If it doesn’t accept his quarters, then it will be fine, and he will put them back in his pocket and go find Sloane. Yep. Probably not haunted.

Tentatively, he inserts two coins and turns the mechanism, and something clicks and churns out a little plastic container. Kravitz takes it out and holds it up to the light from the living room, and not quite sure what’s inside, pops it open.

It’s a squishy glittery rubber duck. It is perfect, down to the eyes that have seen the Horrors (™). Kravitz laughs delightedly and quacks softly to himself.

Okay, well, if that’s what’s going on here, he has two more quarters.

His duck needs some friends, obviously.

He takes his last two coins out, pops them in the thing, excitedly turns the knob, and another capsule drops. He removes it, and it rattles strangely. Is it full of…skittles? Almonds?

He pops it open and it smells like fish. And he kind of gags about it. This is not a skittle treat. This is not a skittle treat at all. If he is not mistaken, those are fucking cat treats. In the capsule machine. In some guy’s house.

“What the actual fuck,” he says softly, and, not expecting a reply, is startled when he hears a gravelly meow from the open bedroom door.

The skrunkliest cat he has ever seen appears, haunted lamp-eyes first, white tail flicking behind it. It is also wearing a flower lei and appears to give not a single rat’s bananas about it. It meows again and Kravitz nearly drops the capsule. He kind of feels like he’s summoned some sort of Beast.

“Hey there,” he says, squatting down to see the critter. “Did you come to party?”

The cat paws at him and yowls, seemingly knowing exactly what the fuck is going on, and befuddled but pleased, Kravitz gives the cat the treats.

He’s kind of glad he was invited to this party full of insane people. Truly the guys who live here can’t be regular. Right? Like, something has to be a little wrong with them. There’s some texture in this salad. Crunchy.

The cat rubs against him and purrs, sounding like some kind of motor boat chewing aquarium gravel, and he’s fucking enchanted. He puts the capsules in his pocket, and after loving on the cat for an extended period of time, he decides he definitely needs more quarters. Like, if that’s what’s in there, either way it’s good, right? He tries to peer in the transparent sides of the machine, but it’s kind of difficult to tell what other curiosities await inside. He’s so fucking tempted. What if it took paypal is the thing? Or credit?

No, that’s dangerous. Like one more dollar would be fine, and then he can socialize.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, and the cat chirrs at him with a knowing look in its glittery eyes. Kind of like Taako’s.

He braves the party again, which in less than twenty minutes has gotten even weirder. The cat, wiser than he, did not follow. Kravitz politely pushes through to the kitchen, where he can still hear people sing-hollering Boat Drinks at the top of their lungs. The only person in there is Taako, who is sitting on the counter and looking kind of put out, but perks up like an animated sunflower when Kravitz walks in the doorway.

“Hey hey,” he says, kicking his legs and nearly thumping the opposite cabinet. “Wondered where you were. Sloane went to pick up some pizzas. They were all like, weh weh, our driver got abducted by aliens or whatever so if you want your pineapple shenanigans you gotta come down to main office, so she was like, I volunteer as tribute, and I was like we have perfectly good horse divorce right here, but okay I guess, and anyway hello again, hi.”

“Hi,” Kravitz says, smiling at Taako. He’s kind of picking up on what he’s putting down now, actually. He hasn’t met the other two Boys, but he wants to assume that the capsule machine was his idea. “I met your cat.”

“Yeah?” Taako blooms about it. “That’s my sweet boy who has every disease. His name is Garyl, and he is a menace to society. He is on house arrest until they find the Picassos.”

“Picassos, huh? I figured him for a Monet kind of guy.”

“Picassos are easier to forge,” Taako says with an impish shrug. “What’s up? Come to sample my wares?” He does a sweeping gesture at the half-demolished spread of appetizers and desserts.

“Definitely!” Kravitz is feeling more like a person again. This, he can do. Solve mysteries, pet cats, eat little pigs in a blanket? Absolutely. Dance to music that rattles his bones until he feels like a skeleton getting played like a xylophone, no thank you. He gets a plate, paper, printed with cute little animal faces. It was probably meant to be a joke, but Kravitz finds it kind of charming. “What’s your favorite?”

“Well obviously, it’s all good, ‘cause cha’boi made ‘em, but uh, like, the desserts are lip-smackery, and the, yeah,” he waves at Kravitz, who is already loading up. “Yeah, some of those, and the little, yeah, those are spinach puffs, but if you’re like, augh, spinach? Spinach poisoned my crops and shaved my dog to look like a monk, then you’ll be pleasantly surprised, ‘cause they fuck verily.”

Kravitz pops one in his mouth, and is wonderfully surprised.

“Verily indeed,” he says, mouth still kind of full. He picks through most of the rest of it, and comes to lean on the cabinet sort of by Taako so they can, he doesn’t know, chat, or something? He’s trying. He’s trying so hard.

At least Taako looks thrilled about his food interest.

“Knew you could chew,” he says.

“Lots of experience,” Kravitz says. “Been on my resume for years.”

That makes Taako giggle-snort, and Kravitz counts it as a win.

“So, what do you do?”

“Me?” Kravitz sweats. “I mean, me? What I do?”

“For sure that is what I meant, yeah?” Taako raises his eyebrows. “I mean, you want me to go first? I work at a bakery. So like, if you see your boy fall asleep mid-sentence, be regular about it, yeah?”

“Noted,” Kravitz says, affectionately. “I do not work at a bakery. I work at Sniffem’s, and also the funeral home.”

“Sniffem’s??” Taako cackles. “You’re a candle merchant?”

“Candle stacker,” Kravitz corrects. “My candle hawking was not aggressive enough, and I got demoted to the back of the store.”

“Couldn’t up-smell, huh?” Taako says, barely containing his laughter enough to finish the sentence, and Kravitz snickers.

“Little more interesting, than uh, than Neverwinter Rest and Crematory, so uh, I tend to lead with that one-”

“I mean,” Taako covers another laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t joke, you might be, you might not think it’s funny.”

“Listen,” Kravitz says. “You aren’t going to offend me, unless you’re trying to be mean, in which case I will cry. Like if you criticize my penmanship or something, I’ll dwell on it, but like, if you’re about to say what I think you’re going to say-”

“That’s the thing-” Taako’s voice is pitching up and he nearly looks like he’s going to explode. “I’m not quite there? There’s- listen- I’m not trying to be a dick- but there’s a burning joke in there and I just can’t quite crack that nut- ”

“Maybe,” Kravitz starts, mostly amused by it all. He’s heard all sorts of things about the funeral home, and he’s gotten over it a long time ago. He’s struggling to force that connection too when someone–handsome, weirdly long sideburns–pops his head in. “HEY!” he shouts, into the much quieter kitchen. “Can we get five more mulled strawberry daiquiris and a Long Island Hot Tea?”

“Fuck off!” Taako says, cheeks pinkening, as Kravitz tries not to gag about the idea of hot beach drinks. Like, he gets the math there, but no, jail for a thousand years. “I’m talking to my friend-!”

“Thanks, Taako!!!” The guy, who could be, mm, maybe not a lumberjack, but like a model dressed up like a lumberjack who would hurt himself in the photoshoot by getting too enthusiastic about the ax? Ducks back into the party, as if Taako had responded positively.

“Hey, what fucking is your name though, gorgeous?” Taako says, incredibly directly, piercing through Kravitz until he could be used as a colander in a pinch.

Did he fucking forget, like, the basic bit? Like, the second thing? He got as far as hello and ate shit? He wants to evaporate.

“Kravitz,” he says. “Did I not-”

“Nope,” Taako says, popping the p like a balloon in a sharp things factory. “But if there’s anything else you wanna do backwards, I’m open?”

“I do actually have a question,” Kravitz manages, despite the delayed hit of gorgeous flooding his bloodstream like a designer party drug of some nature. He’s not sure. He’s never really engaged with that sort of scene.

Taako blinks at him, but congenially goes, “Shoot?”

“What- hey, what’s the deal with the capsule machine in the hallway?”

Taako regains that mischievous look tenfold. Funny business and hanky-panky, thy name is Taako Lastname.

“That? Oh, that? That’s an investment, my man. I, so listen, there was a sale, right? And I figured- I mean, it’s a little joy in a popbubble whenever you’re feeling down, yeah? Marie Kondo, live your life, et cetera, but also like, good for parties, you know, we do lots of parties, maybe you can come to the next one? Gonna be casino themed.”

“Love that,” Kravitz says. “Poker.”

“Dressup,” Taako nods. “Like- like me and the guys, we’re, you know, just dudes, not like, heroes or whatever, but we’re joy-dealers, you know? Merchants of smiles, yeah? Does that sound insane?”

“Maybe, but I like it?” Kravitz smiles at him, and eats a little tart thing so he doesn’t have to say more. It’s–get this—so fucking good.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, well. Yeah. So, like, we do these weird parties, right? Like- when shit’s got you down, we can get you up, wink, and like,” he kicks his feet like he’s trying to slow down his thoughts so they don’t all tumble out of him. Kravitz is immensely charmed. “I mean, I just thought it was funny.”

“It really made me smile, Taako,” Kravitz says honestly, and Taako lights right back up. “And it’s sweet that you put something in there for your cat, too.”

“Yeah?” Taako beams, vindicated. “Garyl loves that shit. Normally he’d fuck off entirely, but he must have heard you fuckin’ round and got excited. Good thing you got lucky.”

“Right,” Kravitz’s cheeks burn. “I only had a dollar in quarters. I’m kind of surprised I even had quarters on me, but- you know, it was fun. You’re really- fun.”

Taako’s smile softens a little. He brushes hair back behind his ear and glances away.

“Sure,” he says.

“Is it weird I’m really tempted to do it again? Like, you wouldn’t have-”

“I one hundred percent have rolls on rolls of quarters specifically for this situation,” Taako says all in a rush. He hops down, and then tries to pretend to be chiller about this. “If, you want? I mean, you can go do sand karaoke-”

“I do not see myself doing sand karaoke right now,” Kravitz says, as politely as he can. Taako looks pleased, and snatches a ziplock bag full of coins off the microwave. “How much do you wanna spend?” And he heads back through the party to the hall, Kravitz plodding baby-duck like behind.

He ignores the wild overstimulation of the party. He focuses on Taako’s long braid, and the jaunty way it swings, and the soft slope of his back, a star-field of freckles exposed by his silly beach party outfit, when, again, it is one hundred percent snowing out there.

Affection warms him from the inside out. He may as well be glowing. Aw, fuck, is he getting a crush? Oh no. Oh lord. Oh bother.

“Hey Garyl,” Taako announces to the empty doorway, as he stops in front of the capsule machine. A person waiting for the bathroom glances at them, and then looks back at their phone.

“I can give you some bills-” Kravitz tries, but Taako waves him off and hands him the bag.

“Later,” he says. “Let’s see what else you get. Try for a real prize, right? There’s all sorts of weird shit in there. I think I put a ring, you know, I put a little jerky snack, a whole bunch of these ugly little alien guys? And there’s the balloon animals, the glitter ducks,” he starts counting on his fingers.

Kravitz takes out two quarters and pops them in. Taako delightedly watches him turn the crank and remove the purple-capped plastic gift.

“What’dja get?”

Kravitz pops it open, unsure- and then nearly perishes on the spot. It is, there is no denying it, the familiar foil square of a condom.

There’s a beat. And then Taako begins to die laughing, as Kravitz nearly melts into the resell-beige carpet. Taako laughs so hard he nearly chokes, and grabs onto Kravitz’s elbow for support. Kravitz, despite his mortification, can’t help it–Taako’s laughter is contagious, and he starts into it too, and nearly falls apart when Taako manages to get out–

“The thing is-” he wheezes. “The thing is? I’m not- listen. The thing is? There’s only one of those in there-”

“Guess I got lucky,” Kravitz has to say. Taako actually falls to the floor laughing.

And Kravitz? Well, maybe he’s going to have a good time after all.

#taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #this is very silly #fan5fics

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