#except me I am scared to yap for whatever reason

[creep3r-chan]

do yuo perhaps ...

wanna learn about liv character lore ♡♡ /nf

Yes yes yes YES YES YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY PLEASE I love lore and shit and silly and !!!! /silk /i❤️lore /the /ouahjd /gets hit with a metal pipe 183779 times (ow)

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #17 死

† bedroom confessions †

“His real name is the most dangerous thing he’s ever given you.”

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 7.5k

rating: explicit (18+)

content: first time in jeon’s bedroom, real name revelation, sexual tension finally exploding, dirty talk that’ll make you blush, spanking kink discovery, emotional walls starting to crack, post-sex vulnerability, and lines being crossed that can never be uncrossed.

Kiki Nation’s discussion thread for this chapter.

☠ author's note ☠

Y’ALL I’M DECEASED. Just casually writing 7.5k of filth like it’s nothing. Who even am I at this point? My laptop is judging me, my FBI agent is traumatized, and I haven’t made eye contact with my roommate in three days.

So… that happened. Jungkook finally shared his real name AND his bed, and honestly? The power that man holds when he’s being all dominant and teasing is absolutely CRIMINAL. I had to take several water breaks while writing this chapter because WHEW. Is it hot in here or is it just me? (¬‿¬)

The fact that Jungkook’s idea of aftercare is literally “wanna stay connected all night?” has me HOLLERING. Sir, that is NOT how this works—but also it’s so perfectly HIM. Our emotionally stunted sniper boy doesn’t know how to process feelings unless they’re shooting through a rifle scope.

And Y/N with the attitude even DURING sex? A queen behavior. Standing ovation for not becoming a complete puddle the second he touched her (though let’s be real, it was close).

Let’s also talk about how they can’t stop BANTERING even post-orgasm. These two idiots calling it “charity work” when they’re both equally obsessed with each other? THE DELUSION. I love them so much it physically hurts my face.

I know I promised slow burn but uh… Listen. LISTEN. It’s an EMOTIONALLLL slow burn. The fuck buddies tag is there for a reason. Sometimes characters just take over and you have to let them bang it out, you know? It’s for their mental health or whatever.

Don’t get too comfortable though! We all know what happens in this universe when people get too happy… the universe (aka me, their cruel god) decides to throw a wrench in everything. ⌒(o＾▽＾o)ノ

Next chapter will give us a little morning-after situation and maybe even some actual plot development if I can stop writing smut for five seconds!

Love ya, trauma vultures! Keep those comments coming, they fuel my sleep-deprived writing sessions!

xoxo 💋

P.S. Also, for the hate comment I deleted 5 seconds after it was posted (you tried though)… here's an even longer author's note, since yk, like you said, nobody reads them… More for me to yap without consequences, I guess.

⚔ socials ⚔

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

You're in Jeon's room. 

Jeon's fucking room. 

When he'd texted you to come to the shooting range earlier, you'd figured it was just another one of his typical late-night training sessions. 

But now? Now you're here, on his bed , with him standing over you like he’s already decided you’re his next target.

Like you’re already dead and just haven’t figured it out yet.

Okay, maybe a tiny part of you had hoped for this. (Shut up , horny brain.)

But you'd only agreed to be fuck buddies like, what, some hours ago?

And here you are already, sprawled across his sheets, heart hammering against your ribs like it's trying to escape.

Talk about moving fast.

Except it isn't simple. Not when you're already spread out across his bed like you fucking live here. Not when your heart's kicking like a scared rabbit in your chest.

Your fingers curl into his sheets on reflex. Satin. Dark. Smells like pine and something sharper—pine. Him. God, that should not do things to you but it does.

You fight the dumb grin twitching at the corner of your mouth.

Because here's the thing.

He's just as gone for it.

Jeon's staring down at you like he hasn't eaten in days. Dark eyes locked on you like you're dinner and dessert and every guilty pleasure combined. There's no hesitation. No second-guessing. No going slow. Just that razor-focused, dangerous glint he always gets before pulling the trigger on a mark.

And Jesus Christ, you're the mark.

Your breath catches.

That stormy energy of his? It's fucking alive. Wrapping around you. Crawling over your skin. You feel it. You taste it. Static in the air—sharp, biting, almost buzzing in your goddamn teeth.

His fingers graze your thigh and oh. 

That's nice. Really nice. 

But before you can really enjoy it, he pulls his hand away. Plants it on the mattress by your head, making the bed creak under his weight.

You snap your head up in disbelief. "Seriously?"

Your voice cracks. Great. Love that for you.

But then his other hand comes up—slides along your jaw like he owns you. Fingers rough. Callused. Deadly. And all you can do is stare like a fucking idiot as his thumb presses against your bottom lip. Tugging. Testing.

You go pliant before you even process it. Lips parting on instinct.

His mouth opens just a little—like he's picturing it. Like he wants to taste you. Swallow you whole.

And goddamn it, you want that too.

So bad it hurts.

Is he imagining what it'd be like to kiss you? 'Cause you sure as hell are.

"You sure you can handle the kind of tension relief I'm talking about?" he asks, voice low and gravelly. 

You almost laugh. As if you haven't been thinking about this exact scenario for weeks. 

"Guess you'll have to show me so I can decide, huh?"

That does it. 

He moves. Fast.

You barely register it before he's already there—mouth crashing into yours like he's starving. Teeth. Tongue. Fucking warzone.

There's no slow build-up. No teasing. Just pure, raw take.

Your breath punches out of you as you grab for him. Instinct. Desperation. Your fingers slip into his hair—damp, messy, soft as hell. You tug. Hard.

He groans into your mouth. Loud. Deep. Way too fucking hot. It rips down your spine like lightning.

You bite his lip just to feel him suck in air through his teeth. God, that sound—that sound—shoots straight to your core. Your legs twitch under him, thighs pressing together, trying to ease the ache.

It doesn't work. Makes it worse.

Jeon doesn't let you off easy either. He dives back in. Deeper this time. Tongue claiming, swallowing every shaky breath you give him like he owns them now.

His body shifts—presses down harder—pinning you to the mattress without saying a single word. Your back arches up like a fucking reflex. Can't help it.

And then, just as fast, he pulls back.

Forehead against yours. Breath ragged. Lips slick and swollen.

His chest rises and falls like he just ran a mile.

You're no better. Gasping. Throat dry. Pulse wrecked.

"We doing this?" he asks. 

Not really a question. He knows. You both know. Still—he waits.

And maybe it's stupid how much that makes your throat go tight.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Yes."

One word. That's all it takes for Jeon's eyes to darken further.

His mouth finds yours again, but only for a moment. Then he's moving—trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down to your neck. When his teeth graze below your ear, a small gasp leaves your throat.

Fuck.

The sound does something to him. You can tell by the way his fingers dig into your hip, how his breath comes out just a bit harsher against your skin.

His other hand slides down your stomach, fingers spread wide like he's trying to touch as much of you as possible. The shirt bunches up with the movement. 

More skin exposed to the cool air of his room. More of you for him to explore.

You can barely breathe right. Every inhale is shallow, desperate. A whine builds in your throat, needy and embarrassing, but you're too far gone to care. You want more. More of his hands on you, more of his mouth, more of the way he's practically caging you in with his body.

He makes this sound—low and satisfied, almost like a growl—that has heat pooling between your legs.

"Jeon," you breathe out. 

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. 

"Jungkook," he corrects, voice rough with want. "My real name is Jungkook. Say it like that again."

Your breath catches. Using real names in Kkangpae isn't something you take lightly. It's intimate. Personal. A sign of trust that goes beyond the physical.

"Jungkook," you say again, louder this time. Testing how it feels on your tongue. 

The way his eyes darken tells you everything you need to know about how it sounds to him.

He growls—actually growls, okay paw patrol?—at that, like your voice saying his name is doing things to him. Like he can't get enough of it.

God. The way he's looking at you right now.

"Turn over for me," he murmurs like a command, but there's something patient in his voice. "I need to see that ass."

Your whole body feels like jelly as you move. The mattress dips beneath you, and fuck—you realize how exposed you are right now, laid out for him like this. How vulnerable. 

How wanted.

"Ass up, sunshine," he says, voice raspy.

You push yourself up on your elbows, lifting your hips. The position makes you feel s̶l̶u̶t̶t̶y̶ bold, but it also feels slightly intoxicating, being on display like this, knowing exactly what it's doing to him.

The sharp intake of his breath is worth it.

His hands hover over you for a moment—those same hands that can take a life from a mile away with a sniper rifle now ghosting across your skin. The anticipation has your stomach in knots, has you fighting the urge to push back against him.

When he finally touches you, it's almost reverent. Like he's mapping out territory he plans to claim.

"Fuck," he breathes out; and the way he says it—like a prayer, like worship—makes your face burn. "You have no idea what your ass does to me."

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, kneading with the kind of expertise that makes you wonder h̶o̶w̶ ̶m̶a̶n̶y̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ if he's thought about this before. 

You have to press your face into the pillow to muffle the sounds trying to escape your throat. 

Because if you start, you're not sure you'll be able to stop.

He takes his time, methodical in a way that's driving you insane. His thumbs spread you open, then let you fall back together. His hands work their way, massaging and squeezing. The heat under your skin builds until you feel like you might combust. Like you might actually catch fire right here in his bed.

"Such a perfect ass," he groans, and then—oh—his lips are pressing against one cheek, then the other. Soft kisses that feel somehow filthier than anything else he's done. "Fucking beautiful."

The praise hits different when it's coming from him. When it's Jungkook—cold, distant, perfectionist Jungkook—telling you how perfect you are.

When he pulls back, the loss of contact hits different. Like someone just yanked a warm blanket off you.

"I want to try something," he says, and okay, when his voice sounds like that you'd say yes to almost anything he'd say. 

"Yeah?" Your voice is breathy, but at this point you're too curious (too turned on) to give a single fuck.

His hand traces up your spine, gentle in a way that doesn't match how intensely he's staring at you. The contrast makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

"I want to spank that gorgeous ass of yours." 

It comes out like a confession, like he's been thinking about this for a while. There's a question mark hanging at the end of it though, waiting for your permission.

Oh.

Something hot and electric zips through you at the suggestion. Your brain staggers for a second, but your body's already made up its mind. You're nodding before you can even process what this means.

"Let's do it," you say, maybe too eagerly, but the thought of his hand coming down on your ass has lit something up inside you that you didn't even know was there.

"Remember our safe word?"

Even in the middle of this is, he's making sure you're both on the same page.

"Black tape," you confirm immediately. 

Having that word there, knowing you can use it anytime—it's like a safety net. Makes everything else feel okay.

"Good."

He positions himself behind you again, and the anticipation is k̶i̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ driving you crazy. His hand hovers over your skin, making you feel every inch of exposed flesh. 

Then, the first spank lands.

It's almost gentle—like he's testing the waters, seeing how you'll react.

The sound it makes in the quiet room has your face burning.

Sharp. Clean. Loud. 

Your skin blooms with heat where his palm connected, and fuck—it's not exactly painful, but it sends this electric feeling through your whole body that has you gasping. The sting melts into something warmer, spreading under your skin until you feel like you're floating.

Your face burns. 

And... It's not from pain.

Obviously, he's watching you like a hawk, trying to read your reaction. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy and intense.

"How was that?" His voice comes out rough, like he's the one who just got spanked.

You have to take a second to remember how words work.

"Good," you manage to get out, barely above a whisper. "Really good."

He gives you time to process, to just feel it. Then his palm is back on your ass, but this time he's not spanking. He's just... touching. Soothing the heated skin with gentle strokes that somehow feel more intimate than the spank itself.

It's messing with your head—how he can switch from rough to gentle so fast. One second he's spanking you, the next he's treating you like you're made of glass.

The air feels exactly like right before a storm hits. 

Jungkook's presence behind you is overwhelming in the best way, and when his hand moves away, you actually have to bite back a whine.

Every second he makes you wait feels like torture. You arch your back a little, trying to be s̶l̶u̶t̶t̶y̶ subtle about asking for more. You can't see his face, but you know he's smirking. 

You've seen that look enough times to picture it perfectly—that cocky little quirk of his lips, the way his eyes get all dark and intense.

"Ready for another?" he asks, voice gone all gravelly; and it shouldn't be hot, but it is.

Your heart's going crazy in your chest when you nod. "Yes."

Waiting has has your skin tingling, has you holding your breath without even meaning to.

You can feel him shifting behind you, the mattress dipping as he draws his arm back. 

When his palm connects this time, it's not a question—it's a statement. 

The smack echoes off the walls, louder than before, and holy shit.

"Fuck," you gasp out. 

It stings more this time, sharp and intense, but in a way that makes everything feel unfairly good.

"How does that feel?" His words drip with arousal, but there's still that undercurrent of concern. 

Always checking, always making sure.

"Nice," you hear yourself say, and you're surprised by how eager you sound. Like you can't get enough. "Keep going."

There's a pause, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"As you wish," he finally says, and you don't need to see his face to know he's smirking.

He pulls back again, and like the asshole he is, he makes you wait a little bit.

Not for long though, because clearly, the fucker is enjoying this too.

When the third spank lands, it's like a lightning bolt straight to your core. It's stronger, more controlled, and the pleasure that rips through you is so intense it steals your breath. 

You cry out—not from pain, but from how good it feels. 

How it makes your whole body sing.

This time, his hand stays put. You can feel the heat of his palm against your stinging skin, and it's grounding in a way you didn't know you needed.

"Beautiful," he breathes out, like you're some kind of work of art.

You hadn't pegged Jungkook as the type to be into this kind of thing. But the way his breath catches, the slight tremor in his hand as it rests on your ass—it's like he's discovering something about himself right along with you.

Maybe it's a spanking thing. Or maybe it's just a you thing.

Or your ass thing. 

Either way, the realization that you're affecting him this much? 

Heady. Bargaining material. 

His fingers start tracing patterns on your heated skin, soothing the sting. Again with the contrast, from the spanking to this. Like he's not quite sure himself where he stands.

"You okay?"

You nod into the pillow, not trusting your voice right now. 

Because how do you tell someone that you're more than okay? That you're floating on some kind of pleasure high you didn't even know existed?

And honestly, this whole situation is simply making it hard to think straight. 

But then, Jungkook moves, slowly, creates some distance and—oh? 

A soft thud. His towel hitting the floor. 

He steps closer once more, bare skin against yours, and it's hot. He's hot. His skin is hot.

His body is all hard lines pressed up against your softer curves, and when his cock presses against your panties, you actually have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

You push back against him without thinking. 

S̶l̶u̶t̶t̶y̶ Needy.

"You're driving me fucking crazy," he makes this sound you can't quite classify.

The raw want in his voice does things to you. But before you can even think of responding, his hand comes down on your ass again. 

Hard.

The sound echoes through his room, and you can't help the moan that slips out.

(Anyone walking past his door would definitely hear that one.)

"Tell me you felt that," he demands.

"I felt it," you manage to get out between breaths. "I felt all of it."

Then his free hand wraps around your waist, fingers spreading wide like he's trying to conquer as much of your body as possible. He pulls you closer, and god—you can feel every inch of his cock pressed against you through the thin fabric of your panties. 

The contrast between his rough skin and the smooth material is driving you insane.

"You want more?" 

He's trying to sound teasing, but you can hear how affected he is. His voice is multiple octaves deeper than his usual 'whatever' tone.

"Yeah." Your voice comes out wrecked. "Don't stop."

He laughs—this low, dangerous sound that makes your toes curl. "God, I love how eager you are."

His hand comes down hard—harder than before—and the sound echoes through his room like a gunshot. You can't help the groan that rips from your throat. It's embarrassingly loud, but who cares at this point?

The sting burns hot across your skin, sharp and biting, sinking deeper until it melts into that aching pulse you can’t get enough of. You can feel exactly where his palm landed, the heat of it sinking deep into your flesh.

"Christ, you take it so well," he says, and his fingers dig into the spot he just spanked, pressure making you bite your lip. "I can see the shape of my hand on your ass, turning red. It's fucking sexy."

You're breathing like you just ran a marathon, each exhale coming out kind of whiny and desperate. Your brain’s mush. All you can register is his hands and the heat of him grinding against you.

"Jungkook, please." The way you say his name is straight-up pathetic, way too needy. 

You push back against him, wanting to feel him without these stupid panties in the way.

His fingers trail down your spine, so slow it’s infuriating. They dance over the curve of your ass before playing with the edge of your underwear. When his fingers finally hook into the fabric, you freeze, chest tightening as he pulls the fabric aside.

Your face is pressed into his mattress, ass up in the air like some kind of offering. You should feel exposed, but something about it just feels right.

"You're already so wet for me..." You can hear the smirk in his voice. What an asshole. "How can I resist?"

But he does resist, the bastard.

His touch goes all gentle, fingers just barely exploring your folds like he's got all the time in the world. Like he's trying to memorize every little detail—how wet you are, how warm, the way you can't help but tremble. 

He then makes this approving sound deep in his throat and you've had enough.

"Jungkook," you whine, dragging out his name like some kind of desperate prayer. "Stop teasing."

"But I want to watch you squirm," he says, and fuck—you can tell he means it. 

He wants to see you fall apart, wants to watch you beg.

What a bitch. 

His sadistic little game only gets worse when you complain. You can feel his finger right there, barely touching where you need him most, just collecting evidence of how embarrassingly wet you are. The anticipation is k̶i̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ driving you insane as he slides that finger up and down, parting you without actually giving you what you want. Using your own arousal to make the glide easier.

You try to push back against him, to get his finger inside you—anything. But his other hand is pressed firm against your lower back, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

"Jesus Christ, just fuck me already," you can't help but groan, frustrated. 

But Jungkook—because he's a bastard—just keeps playing his little game.

"I'll fuck you when you're ready to break from wanting it so bad," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

He loves it. 

His finger circles your entrance, the touch so light it's actually torture. Every time he passes over that spot, you clench around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you.

When he finally pushes just the tip of his finger in, you actually sigh out loud—half relief, half frustration. Your whole body's shaking with how bad you need more, but he keeps holding back. Adding pressure so slowly it should be illegal, pushing in just to pull back out again.

He's drawing this out just because he can, the power-tripping dickhead.

The pressure builds just a tiny bit as he shows you the smallest amount of mercy, sliding that one finger in entirely so slow you think you might actually lose your mind. 

It's not enough—nowhere near enough—and he knows it. 

You want him to stop being so careful, to just take what you're offering.

Despite how frustrated you are (or maybe because of it), you can't help but smirk. 

"What, you got no condoms this time either?"

The words come out all breathy between your gritted teeth—and honestly? Not your brightest idea, bringing up that particular memory from the tent.

The response is immediate—his hand comes down hard on your ass, sting spreading across your skin like wildfire.

"Aw, what the fuck—?" 

You yelp, caught between the sharp pain and how embarrassingly turned on it makes you feel—like your body can't decide if it wants to flinch away or push back for more.

"You should know better than to sass me right now."

Then his hand is smoothing over the spot he just spanked, gentle in a way that feels almost worse than the hit itself.

"You're such an asshole," you tell him, but there's no real bite to it. 

You both know you don't mean it, not when you're bent over his bed with his finger inside you.

"Mhm, but you fucking love it, don't you?" 

He says it like it's just a fact. Like the sky is blue, water is wet, and you get off on him being a dick.

(The worst part is he's not wrong.)

You can't help but grown more impatient when you feel his ring finger press up against your entrance, right next to where his middle finger is already buried inside you. He pauses there, just letting you feel the pressure.

"For fuck's sake, just do it." Your voice cracks embarrassingly, giving away just how bad you want it.

He laughs, low and rough. "Patience, I want you to feel every single inch."

Can he die? Genuinely. 

Then the pressure builds as he starts working his ring finger in alongside the other one. He's being so fucking methodical about it, pushing deeper into you at a pace that's making you lose your mind. 

Every inch feels like it takes forever.

"You feel so fucking tight, you sure you can handle both?"

The teasing note in his voice makes you want to bite him. He already knows the answer, the smug bastard.

"I can take more than you can give," you get out between breaths, because fuck him.

And it's meant to be cocky, but it comes out sounding more desperate than anything.

"We'll see about that."

His fingers stop moving for a second—just long enough to make you whine—before he starts pushing in even slower. Like he's trying to make you feel every single movement, every stretch, every slide.

And at this point your body's on fucking fire. But can you be to blame, when he's been nothing but an infuriating tease?

Little pleading sounds keep escaping your throat without permission. You're practically chanting 'please's as you try to push back against his hand. But he's got you pinned, keeping that torturously slow pace.

"Fucking... jerk," you mutter—because he absolutely is. 

"Yeah," he agrees. "I am."

When both his fingers finally—finally—bottom out inside you, you actually gasp. Your body clenches around them greedily, trying to get any kind of movement, and the grunt he lets out sounds s̶e̶x̶y̶ pleased.

"Tell me how much you want it."

It's not a request. His voice has that edge to it that makes it very clear.

"I want it more than my next breath." The words tumble out raw and honest.

"Good girl," he says, and even though it's rough around the edges, the praise makes you stutter.

His fingers curl inside you, making you moan embarrassingly loud. Then the bastard just... stops. Stays completely still, letting you feel exactly how deep his fingers are, how they're stretching you open.

You're actually going to lose your mind if he doesn't start moving soon. But you refuse to beg—you won't give him the satisfaction.

"I think listening to you beg is my new favorite sound," he says, like he can read your thoughts.

"Fuck off—" The words die in your throat when his fingers pull back just a tiny bit before pushing deep again, and yup, the sound that comes out of your mouth is straight-up pathetic.

"You're driving me insane," you tell him, trying to sound angry.

"That's the idea." He says, but it's all dark and pleased. "I want you out of your mind with need, so when I finally give you what you're begging for, you'll remember who put you there."

Fuck.

His fingers are still buried deep inside you, not moving, and you can feel every single knuckle. It's like a preview of what's coming later—a promise that this is just the start, and he's planning to take his sweet time getting there.

The seconds drag by like hours. You're stuck in this weird space between pleasure and frustration, where his fingers feel so good but it's n̶o̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ not nearly enough. The heat of his body against yours isn't helping either. Having him this close but not getting what you want is actually torture.

"Are you planning on moving anytime this century?"

And yeah. It sounds bitchy. 

Exactly how you want it.

"In due time."

You can barely breathe right, desperation clawing at your throat. Then—oh—his finger brushes against your clit, so light you almost think you imagined it. Your hips jerk without permission, chasing that barely-there touch.

"Jungkook," you warn, half-growl, half-whine.

He chuckles. "No patience at all, huh?"

"Just fucking touch me already." The snark in your voice is falling apart, giving way to pure need.

"Ahh, I love it when you get all feisty."

You open your mouth to tell him exactly where he can shove that smugness, but then his finger is back on your clit. 

Just ghosting over it, barely any pressure at all. 

But your whole body lights up anyway, every nerve ending suddenly wide awake.

"This is torture," you accuse, though the breathiness in your voice kind of ruins the effect.

"Not torture. Appreciation." He hums. "I'm just enjoying all those pretty sounds you make. The way you shake. How desperate you get."

Bastard.

His finger starts moving in slow circles around your clit, adding just a tiny bit more pressure. It's enough to make your back arch, trying to get more friction, but it's n̶o̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ not nearly enough.

"Please," you whine, past caring how needy you sound. "Just—a little harder, please, Jungkook."

He gives you what you asked for—barely. 

Just a fraction more pressure, but combined with his fingers still buried inside you, it's enough to make your body clench around him. 

He's got you trapped between pleasure and frustration, keeping you right on that edge.

"This what you want?" he asks, mocking. "This pace good for you, hmm?"

You know exactly what he's doing—getting off on your impatience, on how desperate he can make you with just his fingers and that stubborn w̶i̶l̶l̶p̶o̶w̶e̶r̶ control of his. 

The pressure on your clit keeps changing, going from barely-there touches that make you want to scream to just enough to have you chasing more.

"Jungkook, I fucking swear—" 

The words die in your throat when his finger suddenly presses harder.

"What?" His voice drops even lower, hitting that dangerous note that usually means he's about to stop playing nice. "What exactly are you swearing?"

"That I'll rip your fucking hair out if you don't stop messing around." You have to grit your teeth to get the words out, trying to sound threatening even though you're literally shaking with need.

He laughs—this deep, dark sound that vibrates through you—and rewards your threat with a firm stroke that has heat coiling in your stomach.

"That's not very nice," he says, but he sounds more amused than anything. Like your empty threats are entertaining him.

His finger goes back to those slow, torturous circles around your clit. Each pass builds the pressure a little more, but it's never quite enough to get you there.

The most f̶u̶c̶k̶e̶d̶ messed up part? You're kind of into it. 

This whole power play thing you've got going—how you push and he pulls, how you threaten and he teases. 

It's addictive. 

Because in truth, there is something powerful about knowing you can make Jeon Jungkook, Kkangpae's perfect soldier, want to hear you say his name.

Suddenly his whole rhythm changes. 

No more of that torturously slow pace—his fingers start moving with actual purpose, curling inside you in a way that has your toes curling. Like he's finally done playing around and just wants to make you genuinely cum.

Hallelujah.

The sound that comes out of your mouth is straight-up filthy. You have to press your face into the mattress to muffle it, which only makes you more aware of how heavily you're breathing, each gasp basically fucking advertising how good his fingers feel.

"Come on, sunshine," he teases. "You don't have to be quiet. These walls are soundproof."

But you just press your face harder into the mattress. 

It's become a matter of pride now—you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing exactly what he's doing to you. 

You're right there, so close you can taste it—

And then the fucker stops.

A pathetic whimper leaves your throat as you squirm beneath him, feeling weirdly empty. The loss of sensation has you actually wanting to cry.

When you turn your head to glare at him, he's got this insufferably satisfied look on his face. 

He reaches over to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer like he's got all the time in the world. The foil packet he holds up catches the light, and the victorious look he gives you makes you want to bite him.

"See, I do have condoms this time, you smart mouth." The smirk on his face should be illegal.

"Oh wow, look who's being a semi-functional adult for once." You narrow your eyes at him."Want a fucking gold star or something?"

He laughs whilst tearing the foil packet and for some reason, it is weirdly hot—how focused he looks while rolling the condom on.

"Maybe after this you'll want to give me one," he says, still sounding way too amused.

He settles back on his knees, raising an eyebrow at you like he's waiting for something. You huff, pretending to be all put out even though you're literally dying from how bad you want him. When you press your cheek against his cool sheets again, you make sure to arch your back just right.

You know exactly what that view does to him.

Feeling extra b̶r̶a̶t̶t̶y̶ bold, you wiggle your hips a little. Just a tiny movement, but it's basically saying 'come and get it' without words.

And bingo. 

His hand comes down on your ass hard—but despite that, you feel weirdly victorious. 

Then he's right there, lining himself up. 

His tip brushes against your entrance, teasing to the point of madness, because at this point you just want him inside already.

You bite down on the sheets, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg again. But your body's giving you away anyway—the way you're trembling, how desperately you're trying to push back against him.

He takes his sweet time, just watching you. His eyes trail down your spine to where his handprints are probably turning your ass red. 

After what feels like forever, he finally pushes in, one smooth stroke that rips the air from your lungs.

And it's impossible to muffle yourself; even with your face squashed against the mattress, when he bottoms out completely. 

You feel every single inch of him, filling you up so completely it's genuinely insane. And he just stays there, buried deep inside you. 

"So fucking tight," he growls, sound vibrating through you, making your toes curl.

Your body moves on its own, pushing back against him, desperate for more. You need him to move, need that relentless pace you know he can give you. But the bastard just holds you there, completely still, making you feel every single detail of how he's splitting you open.

His fingers dig into your hips—not hard enough to leave marks (yet), but firm enough to keep you exactly where he wants you. And the slight bite of pain just adds to the pleasure, kind of welcome honestly. 

When he finally pulls back, you almost whine at the loss—but then he slams back in, hard and deep, and your brain melts. Everything gets kind of blurry after that.

Your skin feels like it's on fire everywhere he touches. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes through his room (thank god these walls are actually soundproof), getting louder with each thrust. His pace is brutal, punishing, but it's exactly what you've been dying for.

"That's it, take all of it."

And there's just this thing in how he says it—that has you pushing back against him like you're desperate for it. 

(Maybe you are.)

Every thrust feels like getting hit by a natural disaster; like a fucking hurricane. It's hard to breathe, hard to think about anything except how he's driving you into the mattress.

He's fucking you like he's got something to prove, hips snapping forward so hard it's just obscene, has you clutching at his sheets like they're the only thing keeping you grounded.

Then his hand slides underneath you, looking for your clit. Like he knows exactly what you need without you voicing it out. 

The second he finds it and starts rubbing circles against it, electricity zips through your whole body. It's almost too much, the dual sensation of his cock stretching you open and his fingers working your clit.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you moan, and you barely recognize your own voice. "Don't stop."

He lets out this grunt that gets lost in the sound of him pounding into you. 

But he listens, thank god, keeping up that relentless pace with both his cock and his fingers.

It's not gentle. He's fucking you like he wants to break you, like he wants to hear every embarrassing sound he can wring out of your throat.

"Just like that, sunshine," he pants. "Fucking take it."

Each thrust builds something wild inside you, like being caught in the eye of a hurricane. The pressure coils tighter and tighter until you think you might actually lose your mind. Everything feels too much and not enough all at once.

Your senses go into overdrive—the obscene sound of skin hitting skin, the heavy scent of sex filling his room, the salt of sweat on your tongue. You're drowning in pleasure, and Jungkook's the one holding you under with his relentless pace.

Then it hits.

The orgasm crashes through you in waves, drawing these embarrassingly loud sounds from your throat—whimpers, growls, straight-up begging. Your body clamps down around his cock like it's trying to keep him there forever, fingers still working your clit through it all. Pleasure zips through every nerve ending until you can barely breathe.

"Jungkook—" His name rips from your throat when you come, sounding absolutely wrecked. 

The pleasure is so intense it almost hurts.

He falters for just a second before picking the pace back up, fucking you through your orgasm until you're seeing stars. Each stroke sets off these little aftershocks that have you questioning your sanity. His groans get louder, deeper, mixing with the sounds you can't help but make.

Every thrust hits exactly where you need it, precise and commanding in that way only he can manage.

You can feel how tense he is, how close he is to losing it.

His breathing comes out all rough and uneven, matching the brutal pace of his thrusts. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave marks, using the grip to pull you back onto his cock like he can't get deep enough. 

It's feral, is what it is— how he's moving now—like he's completely lost in it, chasing his own pleasure.

"Shit, I'm close," he groans against your neck, chest pressed tight against your back, skin burning everywhere you touch.

Then he goes rigid as it hits him. 

You can feel every twitch of his cock, every pulse as he fills the condom.

He makes this plethora of sounds—deep, rough groans combined with some high pitched ones; all stripped away until he's just raw need and pleasure.

"Ah— fuck—"

Every curse that falls from his lips sounds snatched from him, desperate.

His hips stutter against yours, losing his rhythm as he rides it all out. His grip on your hips is tight enough to bruise, holding you still while he falls apart. Each thrust gets slower, like he's trying to make it last.

When he starts coming down from it, his hands go gentle where they were rough before. 

He's still panting hard against your neck, little aftershocks making his cock twitch inside you. His heart's hammering so hard you can feel it against your back.

Jungkook collapses against your back, his legs apparently giving out after how hard he just came. His chest is slick with sweat where it presses against you, and his breath fans hot across your neck. He's still buried inside you, cock softening but still making you feel so full. 

The sound he makes—this low, satisfied groan—is almost cute. Like a big cat after a good meal.

The afterglow starts to settle, leaving this heavy kind of quiet between you. Your breathing starts evening out, going from desperate gasping to something more normal. 

You both just... stay there for a minute, too worn out to move.

Then he just... drops his full weight on you. Like his arms finally give out or something.

The heat of his body wraps around you completely, and maybe it'd be nice if he wasn't crushing your lungs. 

His whole body is radiating exhaustion, and yeah—you get it. That was intense. 

"Jeon, move... you're heavy," you grunt into his pillow. 

Your voice comes out all rough from how loud you were being earlier.

"Give me a second," he mumbles against your skin, sounding just as wrecked as you feel. "You can't expect me to move after fucking you like that." 

He sounds half-joking, half-serious, nuzzling into your neck like he's planning to just stay there forever.

You can't help but laugh at that. Something about seeing Kkangpae's perfect soldier brought down by an orgasm is kind of hilarious. 

You shove at his side, trying to get him to budge.

He doesn't move an inch, the bastard. 

Instead, he has the audacity to suggest something so wild it's weirdly very him.

"How 'bout we fall asleep just like this, me still inside you?" His voice comes out all lazy and satisfied. 

You can tell he's half-joking, but there's this note in his voice that says he's actually considering it.

You reach back to smack him, caught between being annoyed and kind of endeared by how shameless he is. 

"Fat chance, thundercloud," you tell him, but there's no real bite to it. 

He laughs—this deep, warm sound that tells you he's smiling even though you can't see his face.

But you really can't breathe with him crushing you, so you push at him again, harder this time. "Seriously, off. You're heavy as fuck."

He makes this exaggerated groan like you're asking him to run a marathon or something, but finally rolls off you and onto his side. 

His cock slips out (and fuck, that's a weird feeling), and then he sprawls out next to you, throwing one arm over his face as he catches his breath. 

The sight of him like this—all tatted up and muscled, skin still kind of shiny with sweat—is doing things to your brain that you really don't want to examine too closely.

After a few more deep breaths, he sits up with this little sigh like moving is the worst thing ever. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he deals with the condom. 

There's something almost gentle about how he handles it, which is kind of funny considering how rough he w being just a minute ago. He ties it off and tosses it in the trash with this practiced little flick that says he's definitely done this before.

"So, you wanna cuddle?" The teasing in his voice is obvious. 

It's a callback to your conversation earlier, when you were both pretending this was just going to be sleeping.

"Seems like I'm not the one wanting to cuddle after all," you shoot back, matching his tone.

Jungkook gives you that smug little grin.

"Just doing some charity work," he says, voice all teasing and challenging, daring you to argue.

You can't help but scoff. The audacity of this man.

"Charity work? Please. If anyone's being charitable here, it's me."

He laughs—this deep, satisfied sound that fills his room. "Ha. Don't act like you didn't enjoy that just as much as I did."

Well. He's got you there, but you're not about to admit it out loud. Not when he's being this smug about it.

You tilt your head, feeling a crooked smile tug at your lips. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Guess we'll never know."

He shifts closer to you, and fuck—even after everything you just did, your body still reacts to his proximity.

"Maybe I need to fuck you again to find out," he says, voice dropping low enough to make heat pool in your stomach.

"Oh? You sure you can handle another round, tough guy?"

The smirk he gives you is absolutely criminal.

"Sunshine, I've got stamina for days." He says it like he's joking, but something tells you he's not exaggerating.

"For days, huh?" You raise an eyebrow. "Someone's confident."

"Because I know you," he says softly, words ghosting across your skin.

That makes you pause.

Know you? 

He doesn't know you any more than you know him. 

Sure, your bodies seem to speak the same language—the way you fit together, how you respond to each other's touch. 

But that's all this is. 

All it can be. 

Nothing more complicated than pure physical attraction.

But you don't feel like getting into that right now. Not when you're both still riding the high of what just happened.

"Tempting," you say instead, drawing the word out. "But we've got a long night ahead, and I'd rather spend it actually sleeping."

He narrows his eyes at you, looking way too pleased with himself. 

"My bed seems to be the only place you're actually honest," he says, and how does he always have a comeback ready?

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Was that supposed to be a compliment, Jeon? Getting soft on me already?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he says, putting on this fake serious face. "Can't have you thinking I actually enjoy your company or something."

"Oh, please. Soft is literally the last word I'd use to describe you." You can't help but smirk at the double meaning.

A yawn catches you off guard—not because you're tired (okay, maybe a little), but because you're actually kind of... comfortable?

Weird. 

"Anyway, time for sleep. That's what we said we'd do, remember?

He literally snorts. "Sleep? After what we just did? You're fucking with me."

"Not anymore, I'm not," you shoot back, and the look on his face is actually priceless.

"Come on," he tries again. "Round two? I promise it'll be worth staying up for."

But you're already settling into his stupidly comfortable bed. "Nope. Some of us need actual sleep, thundercloud."

"Fine," he sighs, all dramatic about it. "But just so we're clear—this isn't me giving up. It's a tactical retreat."

You actually snort at that. "A tactical retreat? Is that what we're calling it?"

"Yeah, well." He pulls the covers up, finally accepting defeat. "Pushy ain't sexy."

You both settle comfortably in the quietness of his room.

And you can't help but ponder.

It's weird how easy this feels—being here with him, joking around after what you just did. 

Like you're not just teammates or gang members or even fuck buddies.

That thought's definitely more scary than it should be.

goal: 480 notes (also lil reminder to go vote fmu 21 and 22 on wattpad after the mass unvoting to restore them, if you enjoy that story as well! (●’◡’●)ﾉ)

if you’ve enjoyed this chapter please consider buying me a coffee!! ☕️ ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

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[confusedmothboy]

hello hello. i would love to hear your thoughts on how you think travis’s dynamic with his mother(and father) was pre-crash! and also with his mother post-crash. no pressure to answer this i’m just Thinking about it now

YESSSS the martinez family is so interesting to me and its never touched on like at all

just a disclaimer thers a lot of speculation around them that delves more into stereotypical hispanic gender roles that probably influenced their dynamic and i am listening to all of it BUT im also white as fuck so i'll be speaking from my experience that obviously. doesnt include that

all the yapping is under the cut

in the first frames, travis isnt even in the shot. coach martinez hands the bag over to javi, and the camera pans over to travis, who's standing just brooding. i think this kinda immediately hits us with "javi is the golden child" or at least the only one acknowledged in a positive manner with his parents.

when it finally does pan over to travis, he's standing pretty far from everyone, showing the audience the distance from the rest of his family he tries to keep. he could help, but doesnt. i think its interesting how coach martinez tasked his 12 year old with loading up the car instead of his 15 year old whos perfectly capable ykyk. i think this sets up a lot of the resentment we see with travis both towards his dad and towards javi. javi, for whatever reason, is already seen as more capable by their dad than travis is.

this scene is usually skipped way over because of what comes right after it, and you cant really see it in the single screenshot, but javi completely shrugs off his mom's attempt to hug him goodbye. preteen angst? maybe. mirroring coach martinez and/or travis? ohhhh most definitley.

except coach martinez knows that in certain situations, appearance mattters. javi can shy away from parental affection, travis can be off doing whatever, but a husband should kiss his wife goodbye. except she SO does not want that. people speculate dv, affairs, just a general unhappy marriage, but i think its more indicative from a narrative point that this is a traditional family. mom, dad, two brothers just a few years apart, thats like. the goal family pretty much everywhere. they are absolutely nuclear. i feel like the lack of divorce thats very needed here can imply a few things, but overall, we know that this is an appearance-heavy, traditional, "normal" household.

travis gets in the car right after that, neither him nor his mother attempting to say their goodbyes. again, its hard to know whats intentional and whats just the script instructions saying [act like a moody teenager]. whatever.

travis clearly doesnt like his father, saying that coach martinez never even liked him, saying he was a shit dad, all that at his father's gravesite. lets just take a moment to acknowledge how batshit it is that coach martinez works at the same school that travis is relentlessly fucking harassed at and seemingly does nothing about it. i see him being the "getting bullied scares the weakness right out of someone" type, hence why we can assume he never tries to help his son out. he approaches coaching the same way but this isnt a coach martinez analysis this is about travis (and javi)

in these kinds of family dynamics, usually theres a "safer" parent, like you got one you cant ever talk to and then the other who you have a bit more connection with. but neither is trustworthy, because in the back of your mind there's always something nagging that "[safe parent] is still putting up with [other parent]'s behavior and doesn't try to do anything about it, even when it impacts me". because of this, i cant imagine travis having any sort of healthy dynamic with his mom either. in houses like these, sometimes its easier to blame the safe parent when they dont rush to your defense.

on javi: coach martinez obviously respects javi more. or at the very least is easier on him than on travis, most definitely because javi is the younger of the two. that's probably why coach martinez's behavior and travis's attitude dont rub of on javi as much as they could have. notice how javi's the only one that their mother tries to hug goodbye? notice how travis, being a 15 year old who's been bullied and ignored by people at school and at home, is desperate for physical affection the second nat starts to fall for him out in the wilderness? yeah. im sending brain waves over to you rn to convey what i cant exactly put into words. only when travis is out of his home and without both of his parents can he begin to deconstruct the resentment he built against javi. i also think that him being so aggressive with javi right after the crash was a form of preservation for javi's mental state. travis wanted javi to not only admit that their dad was awful (validating travis's experience), but also to protect javi and force him to build the same walls against their dad to save him from the adverse effects of oh i dunno seeing him impaled on a tree?? in travis's mind, until nat and him have that conversation, it's easier and safer to just say "nah i always hated him" and move on. theres a lot i could say about the realism in the martinez brother's dynamic but this is so long already and i have to get to school like 10 minutes ago

overall the family dynamic between these four actually drives me insane. both because we're shown so much and so little and OHHHH its delicious and awful and far too close to home

[hardtobethebardbitch]

I want all your thoughts about Maya and the Three as well as The Book of Life (remember I'm Mexican bitch so I reserve EVERYTHING LATINA RIGHT to judge your answer >:3)

*claps hands together* HERE WE GO TIME TO YAP ABOUT THE BEST MOVIE EVER.

I literally grew up watching this movie. My earliest memory is showing it to my best friend at a sleepover when I was like 6.

My entire WORLD as a kid was Book of Life. Got my first phone, what was the first thing in my music library? Book of Life. Every birthday and when I was sick, what would I pick? Book of Life. Hell, I wrote a self-insert as Manolo's older sister who was best friends with Maria and in love with Joaquin(before I figured I was gay, but like...Joaquin)

I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IT WAS A JUKEBOX MUSICAL

Once I found one of my favorite cover artist Annapantsu's rendition of Can't Help Falling In Love With You, and I thought, "yes, she's seen Book of Life!" Ectasy of Gold? Saw those beer commercials and thought, "Hold up-" I heard Radiohead for the first time and I went, "Wait this was in Book of Life!"

But my God, I as a white person of European descent, adore Dia De Lose Muertos. It is my favorite holiday right after Halloween, because it's my excuse to watch Book Of Life on repeat. I know it entirely by heart, and-although I've now forgotten-I used to scare my sister because I could sing I Love You Too Much and The Apology Song in Spanish, without knowing a lick of the language otherwise. I HAVE A COPY OF A NOVELIZED VERSION OF THE MOVIE, ITS IN SPANISH, AND I UNDERSTAND EVERY WORD.

Okay okay, now onto the actual movie other than my experiences.

This thing is one of the best pieces of media I've consumed in literally forever. While it has certain flaws-pfft what am I saying, IT HAS LITERALLY LIKE ONE MINISCULE FLAW, AND I CANT EVEN PIN IT DOWN.

Im going to treat this as one of my movie reviews, just so I don't make this an entire essay lol

Plot: DUDE, THE PLOT?? it's just-beautiful. Just imagine it for a second, as if you were part of this as a main character like Manolo. You are in love with your best friend-your other best friend is in love with her too. You continue with your life, still in love even after she leaves for finishing school. When she returns you do your best to impress her, despite the fact you're kind of the village loser. You die, and when you get to the afterlife you find out that your love life has been betted on by literal gods, just cause they're bored?? I am shocked Manolo kept his cool as much as he did. And then the freaking bandits?? The battle?? I just fucking love this movie man.

10/10

Music: JUKEBOX MOVIE ALERT!!! Except one-I think two?-songs, everything is from somewhere else. And my gods, the conversion from whatever they used to be into the style of the movie is ASTOUNDING. I completely believed that Creep was supposed to be played on guitar like that. And then I could go on for literal hours about The Apology Song-and most of it would just be screaming in joy. I DON'T UNDERSTAND, IT'S JUST SO GOOD FOR NO REASON?

100/10

Animation: How the hell do I explain this with words? Just look at it yourself.

LOOK AT IT!!! Care and love was put into every single frame and it SHOWS.

10000/10

Writing: I do have to admit that maybe, occasionally, from time to time, rarely, the writing is a little strange. But then when there's real heavy scenes-okay who am I kidding, the writings amazing. Humor, pacing, and everything in between-they made due with what they got, and they left ZERO CRUMBS. JUST LOOK AT THD GRANDMA

Queen. AND THEN THIS FUCKING SCENE I JUST-

"Don't forget me."

Waiter! You forgot my tissues!

Characters: I...cannot stress enough...how much I love everyone in this movie.

Manolo? Peak. He molded what my type would be. Selfless, strong, but allows you to be independent, a complete pathetic cat to his lover. His conflict can be felt by anyone with disapproving guardians, or even those who just had disappointed figures in their life. And Diego Luna???? Fuck. Perfect character right there.

Maria? Badass. Likes to lead a little on, but what girl hasn't? She's the leader's daughter and has a pet pig. Need I say more? And Zoe Saldana fucking smashed the role.

JOAQUIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

I LOVE Joaquin. When I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and my friends pointed out Channing Tatum I went, "JOAQUIIN" and they stared like I was senile. I do honestly believe that he is extremely underrated within this niche Fandom. Just saying, I had an epiphany a few years ago: How did Joaquin feel?

Maria was believed to be dead. Blinded by grief he tells his best friend that it should have been him. I entirely believe that he was the one to return to the tree. To apologize, of course. And what does he find? His best friend, dead. He doesn't have anyone left. Maria comes back, and he can only imagine the pain she's feeling. He hates that General Posada is only thinking of marriage at a time like this.

And if he hadn't been the one to find Manolo? Then it was Carlos. And Joaquin watched as a man he respected carry his best friend's body out of the fog from the lonely dock. Or perhaps Carlos buried him right under the tree, and returned with nothing but grief.

And he completely accepts Manolo and Maria's love! He definitely felt hurt, but I'm sure it took a minute because he was just happy Manolo was alive man. He'll find love, I'm sure he will. He'll get a medal from me, no doubt.

Im simply saying, Joaquin had the most development of everyone in this movie.

La Muerte and Xibalba? Peak on and off married couple. La Muerte is hot as hell, and Xibalba's hilarious. Candlemaker, peak. Carlos, peak. The Mariachi Brothers, peak. Luis, peak. Carmen, peak. Book, peak. Even the detention kids were so incredible!

100/10

Overall movie: This movie has so many layers, and it can be enjoyed by all ages. I have enjoyed it since I first watched it, and I will adore it until I die. I will have this play at my funeral, and all you sick fucks are invited.

100000000000000000000000000000 x infinity/10.

And MAYA AND THE THREE???? UGH. MADRE DE DIOS I WANT TO CRY THIS THING MADE ME SOB.

I heard my dad call me from the living room. It was during COVID so I was a little under the weather. I go to the living room, and he's showing a new release on Netflix: Maya And The Three.

I CRASHED OUT. I was SCREAMING at him, begging him to give me the remote. I almost cried right then and there.

AND THEN I STARTED WATCHING?!?!?!!! AND IM INSTANTLY HIT WITH...ZOE SAL-FUCKING-DANA.

AND THEN...DRUMROLL...

DIEGO LUNAAAAA

(I'm fine guys I swear.)

Guys...this thing reignited something in me. The absolute fabulousness of the entire show screamed "Gutierrez". While no one was bursting into Radiohead this time, I swear my heart gave out from all the absolute nostalgia I was getting, and the new story that was tugging my heartstrings in a direction they had never gone.

(You can only imagine how I felt with that La Muerte Xibalba and Candlemaker cameo lol)

I adored every character, but I feel like one can guess who my favorite was haha...

Hes so pathetically down bad for Maya and I can't blame him one bit. LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! I wanna squish it.

Man his reincarnations are gonna feel that lovestruckness. (*cough,* MANOLO, *cough*)

This entire thing, even with all the deaths, I just adore.

I FELT THAT SCREAM WHEN ZATZ DIED. I FELT THAT SCREAM FROM MAYA DEEP IN MY CORE.

AND THEN THEY BROUGHT BACK THE MISBEGOTTEN SON OF A LEPROUS DONKEY BUT JUST A LIL DIFFERENT I CLOCKED THAT IMMEDIATELY AND SCREAMED.

And, of course the ever popular

Rico, Chimi, Picchu, Lance, Daggers, Shield, Camazotz, Puma princess, Micte, Queen Teca, Chiapa, Apush-I love every single character in this show.

AND THEN ALL THE THREE SYMBOLISMS JUST ARGGH

I can't go on man, I'm either gonna die of euphoria or pass out I have been writing this for almost an hour now. But it was so worth it, and I hope it was worth your time too.

No retreat, no surrender.

I am so behind on my French.

[cozymochi]

Hi it’s🍍 anon again! Hope you’re having a good day/night!

I’d love to hear your yap sesh, but which events do you see your ocs participating (being coerced) in?

Tia’s a given since she’s the prefect she’ll be in every event (being the absolute girlboss that she is)

ITS MORNING FOR ME SO I GOT ALL DAY. Well it was when I started writing, lmao.

For the main in-game events we’ve seen? None. Well, excluding Scary Monsters, Beanfest and Port Fest. But, those are like, school-wide participation with mobs so that doesn’t really count, does it? Also Master Chef/Culinary Crucible I can also see happening since that’s also a school thing. …And maybe Spectral Soiree but like, the entire school got kidnapped to sent to the ghost realm for a party, so that probably doesn’t count either. 💀

(I am very much treating them as NPCs who have virtually nothing to do with whatever the main cast do, since… well, they are NPCs in the grand scheme. …With faces.)

With existing events, it’s hard to say, because if it isn’t a schoolwide event, my brain automatically will take in the reality that they well, weren’t there. At least not as mains. But, chalk up my hesitance mostly being from my distaste of throwing characters into situations they weren’t initially present for. If I do do it, I’m very much a “if something gets added in, something else needs to be cut out” for balance reasons. With exceptions of course. I’m not hyper strict “grrr canon this canon that”, I just think having limits nets better results for creative problem solving.

…Though, If I’m reading vignettes, I do sometimes slot the boys onto faceless NPCs if it makes me lawl.

You cannot tell me that the faceless guy who tripped in Diasomnia and almost sent a plate flying into Malleus’ face wasn’t Cecil sakshshgshsvj (See: Sebek’s Tsum)

BUT… If Fairy Gala having a “Remix” taught me anything, and the many many Halloween events, it’s that completely alternate versions of previous events starring different characters can happen and just kinda be there. I think it would be very funny if they had tsums, that’d be chaotic. It’s a little easier to work with if it’s an alternate version of an existing event or say, a seperate starter concept or Hometown events.

…

OKAY PREAMBLE OVER, NOW FOR THE REAL CRUD.

Optional further reading of my dumb conceptual yapping under cut.

[THESE ARE ALL THEORETICAL CONCEPTS. There are no visuals and virtually no stories beyond extremely early pitches. It’s not clear if I’ll ever act on these. Some more likely than others but, it’s hard to say. No promises.]

Cecil Mugwort

> Revenge of Pumpkin Knight (After-Halloween Event?)

Piggybacking off of the original Scary Monsters and taking place the night the festivities end. Featuring Idia’s beloved B-List movie, Pumpkin Knight. Except, the “Sleepy Hollow” allusions are at the forefront. Fun and games are over, it’s time to do some real scaring. Especially towards plebs who can’t respect good material if it bit them in the face. Aside from that gambit, the plot of this is currently murky.

I just want Cecil to the Ichabod Crane in this situation who is going to be the main brunt of an extremely elaborate prank by Idia. (He has partial inspiration from Ichabod, not huge, but I did look at him in terms of vibes.)

Cast not established.

> Unnamed Mage Competition (Cecil Hometown: Currently unnamed village, Shaftlands.)

There’s a magic competition of some sort in his quaint little hometown. He drags some school peers with him. I do not have the details for this sorted out, but a theme about siblings is something I’d like to be present. That, and learning about Cecil at a more personal level outside of school. As of now it’s mostly referencing two different eps of Sofia the First, but mushed.

Cecil’s older fraternal twin sister, Claudia, would be introduced.

Potential Cast: Jade, Cater, Silver, MC/Grim

> Sam’s New Years Sale

It’d be funny. Put him in retail.

————

Nyoka Wadjet

> Unnamed event (Nyoka Hometown: Currently unnamed city, Sunset Savanna)

I do not have the details for this sorted out. Something about the Wadjets in particular and some sort of weirdly specific holiday maybe. It also involves exploring the reptilian culture in Sunset Savanna.

The new face that could be introduced is not established yet, it’s still up in the air. There are no names or designs yet.

Nyoka’s personal attendant would be introduced.

Potential Cast: …being reworked.

> *reads smudged hand* Sam’s New Years Sale also

Put him in retail.

————

Emilio Estrada-Alvarez

> Unnamed “Carnaval” event (Emilio Hometown: Shining Peninsula, *Unknown Country).

Emilio finally relents to his cousins pestering, and opts to return home for a big ass Carnaval. This really huge country-wide event with loud music, food everywhere, competitions, costumes and all sorts of good times. Most notable for the bedazzling lights implemented throughout. In his town it’s about celebrating light and love between others of all kinds and how it’ll shine forever or something. It’s meant to reflect the standards set by a Queen from legend who wielded a scepter whose love for others and her people was said to be able to control light itself.

This year his cousins family is spearheading the event in his town. She’s more swamped than usual since it’s her first time doing that, and wants Emilio’s help. And Emilio, being the dip he is, drags others with him. Though given who he chose, he might be trying to prove something. Also being crowned King of Carnaval is cool, maybe he wants that. Shenanigans ensue. As any hometowns go, Emilio will be explored further outside of school.

Emilio’s cousin Marisol would be formally introduced.

Potential cast: Ortho, Jamil (maybe), Malleus, MC/Grim

Shoutout to my various consultants who are not on tumblr.

> Unspecified “Día de los Muertos” type event. (Halloween Event? location not established)

Exactly what it says on the tin. No real further info here beyond that because it’s the most obvious thing. It would be very relevant to Emilio in particular on a personal level. Shoutout to dead parents. I might not do this though.

> Port Fest Alternative Remix

Something about boats now, probably. He likes sailing and is competitive.

——-

[pink-fangirl]

Omg your oc is so cute I wanna know more about her

I WILL GLADLY TALK ABOUT HER FOR HOURS

She is a complete VAT7K OC and I imagine her nowhere near the main tts conflict. She used to be from an entirely different story but the main aspect of her personality has always been DEER IN HEADLIGHTS

She’s super quiet at first and seems super mystical which meets with an extremely curious Varian. She actually sees him leaving Corona and because she’s a stalker and colorblind and likes how blue he is, she follows him along for a while before she eventually ends up saving everyone from the water trial. They see her as she tries to run off and (even though literally all of them are kind of spooked by her) immediately invites her along with the journey purely to study her.

With that being said she has no clue in the world what creature she is. And hardly anything about social interaction and it makes her freeze up, she’s been selectively mute since before she could remember and it’s only gotten worse over time. (She doesn’t know the word for it. She just thinks it makes her even more strange than she already is.)

But a main point of her character is that unlike everybody else on the team, she isn’t ambitious in the slightest. She sometimes wonders what she is, but she couldn’t care in the slightest about trying to figure out. She takes what she’s given and that’s it, she doesn’t let herself want more than what she has which is shocking because she really does not have much at all.

And that would be sort of her character development in letting herself have feelings and not immediately invalidate them in her mind and make close friends for the first time,

Her voice is kind of the thing that’s showing this through out her development and being super otherworldly at first, but eventually becomes more relaxed and sounding more like a Disney princess voice, still high pitched but with more emotion in it. (I had an old voice claim for her but I am now searching for a new one shhhh)

(I love drawing eyes but I suck at it)

Her dynamics all start with people being scared of her except Olivia so she ends up becoming close to Hugo first, tbh though he mainly just takes pity on her because of a conversation they had.

Like they run across a Hugo wanted poster (there’s only like a couple of them but Hugo thinks he’s tough shit) and he’s all like:

“Haha sorry you had to figure out this way deer ;))) can’t try and stop me though ;)”

And Saria is staring hard at the poster like she’s investigating it: “…”

“… What? You already knew this I was kidding-”

“I’m sorry…. I never really.. learned how to read. What are the words underneath your face?”

Anyway he feels too bad about it and ends up trying to teach her how to read. She starts to pick up on it EVENTUALLY but it still takes a bit. Also she is such a stalker and she figures out Hugo is working for Donella QUICK. She doesn’t want him to be mad at her or anything though so she doesn’t expose him.

As said earlier, Varian tries to study her FAST. It makes her super uncomfortable but she isn’t at that point in self-confidence where she tells him that, but they eventually end up sharing stories and become close. It’s like they have polar opposite minds from each other but they just fit together so well <33 I think it’s pretty cute but whatever.

Yong probably gets over his fear of her quickest of anyone and he feels really validated in the way that she clearly sees him as an equal to her, if not above her. She listens while he yaps about random things he thinks nobody else would care to hear. They have NOTHING IN COMMON but that’s what drags them to be besties.

I think her and Nuru are probably the least closest because (reasonably) Nuru’s pretty freaked out by her, but they’d have their own little separate episode of a girls day out (including Olivia ofc) and Nuru realizes that she’s kind of in the same boat as her, cause I imagine even though Nuru has her doubts about everyone else at first and feels sort of above them, she has an intense loyalty to her people and just wants to help them even if she has to give every bit of herself to do it. Just like Saria.

Anyway with her and Varigo, I switch on them based on my mood.

Most of the time they’re polyamorous with more main focus on Varigo cause she doesn’t know jack shit about human emotions so not really that interesting pining going on there. But Varian and Hugo are like 10 times more confused over themselves and guilty abt their feelings. Also instead of trying to mash their names together I call them poly freckles.

Or sometimes she’s just a silly little friend to them that also ends up staying in Corona but mostly because she just has nowhere else to go and the two of them would feel bad banishing her back into the woods. She watches them argue and bully each other and thinks “Yeah… That’s love.. They love each other… :)))”

She is just such a strange creature to me and I love her. She’s so stupid and it’s so funny to imagine her surrounded by these scientific geniuses but unlike them she is actually physically strong and can pick common items up so they need her.

I could keep going off about her but that’s it for now. Plz send an ask if you want more because I WILL GIVE MORE!!!

[theverumproject]

Writeblr Interview Tag!

Thanks for the tag @darekasama

Tags: @teamarine777 + open tag!

Get on my tag list here

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Short stories are my good night and good morning stories. And I absolutely love to read novels. I loved to write short stories as a child, now I prefer to work on one big project, which is currently almost novel sized (Just need a few thousand more words!)

What genre do you prefer reading?

I love Sci fi and Horror mixed with romance (I am a ✨monsterfucker✨). Scientific literature is also embedded deeply into my heart. I swear I can feel my intelligence leveling up, like the green bar in The Sims, lol.

Are you a planner or a “write as I go” kind of person?

I'm a planner. Before I began writing The Robotic Era, I wrote down every major thing that's gonna happen and every single idea that came to my mind. 

What music do you listen to while writing?

I don't listen to any music. Thoughts are like noise to me. So when I write, I can't have more actual noise in my ears than in my head. Music is more like a tool to block inside and outside noises.

Favorite books/movies?

I just finished 21 Lessons for the 21st Century by Yuval Noah Harari a few weeks ago. I really enjoyed reading it! It gave me a lot of insight into our world and how we work. I really recommend it! Definitely up there with my favorites. I also read the autobiography of an African Woman a few years ago. From her childhood, when she fled from being married, to how she became a model. It is beyond me how I read a book of such size in one afternoon. Sadly I forgot what it was called.

As for movies, my favorite one is Interstellar. I also love Bumblebee, the Alien movies, the Terminator movies, Wall-E and more of the sorts. I'm also a sucker for horror, especially the classic slasher movies. While no horror movie really scares me, there was only one that ever chilled me; The Blair Witch Project. I still slept like a baby afterwards though, lol. But I guess atmospheric horror (or whatever you call it) gets me the most.

Any current WIPs?

The Robotic Era is the second book I'm working on. It's part of the Verum Series.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

I have a few personas, so I'm gonna show two of them. The one for this account and the one that I call my IRL sona.

The one for this account is just a black entity that's drawn with minimal effort.

The IRL sona is also drawn with minimal effort. It wears a black shirt with “Slapknutz” written on it three times. The text is too big for the shirt, so it always hangs halfway in the air. There's a black long sleeve shirt underneath it. The jeans are black with a chain/s attached to it. It wears black leather boots on its feet. The mustache, beard and top hat are all optional accessories.

Awww look! They're holding hands!

Create a character description of yourself: 

Oh no… Oh nooo… I'll just do appearance and personality, you don't need to know much more than that, lol. Well, actually, you don't need to know anything about me, since I'm just here to write, technically. But oh well… 

I'm gonna do this in first person though, since any other way would feel a little weird.

Man, that would just be me talking about myself, fuck. Now stop yapping, me, and tell something about yourself! (Is this procrastination?)

Appearance: Everything about me is loooong. My hair (which reaches just past my butt), my legs, my fingers, my nose, my forehead, my clothes (always long jeans and sleeves), hell, even my toes are fucking long for some reason! My clothes are always black and a friend always calls me a “langer, schwarzer Strich in der Landschaft” (long, black line in the landscape), also because of how tall and thin I am. My skin is pale, my hair is brown and my eyes are green brown (in a certain lighting I think they are a shade of unhealthy piss, lol), there's not much more color to me than that. Except for the band T's that I always wear, the pictures on it often have color. When you see me, it's pretty obvious that I'm a metalhead. A coworker once told me that I look like a “badass elf”.

Personality: I did a Myers-Brigg personality test a few years ago and it said that I'm an INFJ, but Idk if it was/still is accurate. 

The first thing that I always say is that I am a creative person. I think my creativity is what makes me me, without it, I'm dead. Then there's curiosity, I love to learn about all kinds of fields of science. This is also were a lot of my inspiration (as a Sci fi author) comes from. I'm very quiet. I went to a LGBTQ place thingie once (been there before, but that was the first time alone). I sat there for three hours and said nothing, couldn't say anything. I was told by a guy that he had never met such a quiet person as me. I do like to talk, but I'm horrible at it when there's a group of people. I also need a person that is more talkative than I am.

I really like to work. I don't feel like I am, but I've been told that I am a very trustworthy and punctual individual. If I have a job, I will finish it with good quality. Though I think that's just a basic trait that everybody should have. I feel like I am almost a perfectionist, but if something frustrates me too much, I will give up/leave it be. 

I also constantly daydream and listen to the music in my head. I truly live in my own world, while still functioning normally in the real one.

This monday, a person told me that I remind them of Ozzy Osbourne, something about “the way I'm standing there”. She said it makes her think of that one video.

Ok, this is already wayyyy to much…

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Nope, never done it.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

Ohhhh yes! People die in most parts of TRE.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

Coffee makes me nauseous, but I like tea! Drink it every morning and evening.

Slow or fast writer?

I'm rather slow. I'm slow in everything that I do, actually.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

Science and random other things that I encounter in the world. Sometimes characters and other things randomly appear in my head though. Just today, while on the bus, a robot that I have never seen or thought about in my entire life just appeared in my head. Who the fuck are you and what do you want? You look cool, but please let me forget you, I already have way too many robot characters.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Like fantasy fantasy? I'd be a scientist, doing my science stuff, like staring at the stars, thinking about atoms and electricity, making hydrochloric acid and finding uranium for fun. But then the church starts to think I'm doing witchcraft and burns me at the stake :(

Most fav book cliche:

I have always liked reading books where the MC is absolutley traumatized, depressed and suicidal with a future love interest that absolutley hates them. Fuck, suffering tastes good!

Least favorite cliche:

Misunderstandings/miscommunication. Just fucking talk to each other, idiots!

Favorite scene to write?

I kind of enjoy writing dialogues where two characters are just having some fun. Something that's lighthearted with a little teasing and some non serious bickering

Reason for writing?

Science and having to let everything out of my brain before it gets overfilled, stuff falls out and gets lost.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

First date

Lan Xichen feels - nervous. Anxious, to be more precise. Incredibly out of his depth, in fact. With all that he's been through, one might think he's ready for anything and nothing phases him anymore.

Wrong.

The great and mighty Zewu-Jun is downright terrified of - don't laugh - going on a date. It wasn't even his idea - his uncle decided it was time for him to visit some matchmakers so he can "pass on the Lan heritage", or whatever other elegant string of words he used to signal that Xichen needed to have a child - and, after a short meeting, the matchmakers found him a date.

Except, Lan Xichen has never been on a date. Of course, he's read plenty about it (Ouyang Zizhen's not-so-secret black market of romance stories has more clients than he could ever imagine), but reading and doing are worlds apart. And Xichen is a bit too nervous to remember the syrupy stuff in those books anyway.

This is ridiculous, and he knows it. He's neither blind, nor deaf or an idiot - he knows he's highly sought after and that should, technically, mean he has nothing to worry about.

Still, he worries.

Romance is... not something he's generally paid much attention to. Yes, he's had crushes before, but nothing that lasted more than a few months, and with the turn that his life has taken, love was rightfully the last thing on his mind.

And now, freshly out of seclusion, barely able to stand on his own two feet politically-wise, he has to go on a date. He'd rather listen to sect leader Yao yap on about the lack of respect and discipline among the youth or something.

There is a knock on the lanshi's door and Xichen knows who it is without even needing to ask. Wangji walks in, carrying some tea - and Xichen sort of envies him right now. What does he know about the perils of dating? He's only ever liked one person, that person happened to also like him back, and then they got married.

Well, to be fair, there was a bit more to that story, but the point is, they never had to actually date.

"How are you feeling, brother?" Wangji asks, kind and supportive, and Xichen feels like the world has turned upside down. Isn't it his duty to be kind and supportive of his brother's love life?

"I am... well." Xichen lies as he fixes his robes for the hundredth time. "This is new for me, so I am a bit-"

"Scared."

"Nervous."

Xichen glares at his brother in the mirror, but if Wangji sees it, he doesn't comment on it. He better not. Like he's one to talk. When he and Wei Wuxian married, he paced around the room for three hours straight from the nerves.

"You have no reason to be so jittery."

Xichen closes his eyes so he doesn't roll them. Says the man who still gets jittery when he sees his husband after a day being apart.

"I am only trying to help. Hearing encouraging words might ease your worries."

Xichen sighs. "I doubt that is going to work."

"What would work, then?"

"Not having to go."

"Avoiding things does not make them go away." A half smile. "You told me that."

"I should be more careful of what I say to you, then." Xichen finds himself smile as well. "My own brother using my own words against me."

Xichen takes the tea cup his brother has poured for him and sits across from Wangji. The silence is comforting, familiar, and Xichen finds himself remembering how he would try to coax his brother into just admitting his feelings for the man that he's now tied his fate to.

"Wei Ying and I have done research about your date. Lady Ming appears to be a respectable lady."

"Research?" Xichen lifts an amused eyebrow. "Did you and Wei-gongzi stalk her?"

Wangji closes his eyes to avoid his brother's gaze. "...I wouldn't necessarily call it that."

"What would you call it then? Espionage?"

"As I've already said, research."

A laugh is pulled out of Xichen before he can stop it. "I appreciate the effort, though I hope you did not scare my date before I even met her."

"She is not easily startled."

"And you know this due to research."

Wangji doesn't respond, but his ears pink up a little. He isn't going to tell his brother how he and Wei Ying found that out, or how he had to pay for Lady Ming's landscaping out of pocket. In their defense, her garden really is a miniature jungle.

"I know you are nervous about rejection." Lan Wangji says after a while, and Xichen nearly chokes on his tea. Leave it to his brother to not mince his words.

"Everybody worries about that." Xichen tries, "It's part of the process."

"It is. I was too. But unless you take the leap, you will never see what's on the other side."

Xichen smiles. "It's as if I'm listening to myself."

"You would do better to listen to your own advice sometimes."

---

"So, how is he?" Wei Ying asks from his spot lounging on the bed. "A big anxious mess?"

Lan Zhan takes off his shoes and his outer robe, joining his husband. "Expectedly."

A teasing laugh, "Runs in the family, I guess."

"Wei Ying."

"Don't give me that. You know I'm right. You were the same."

Lan Zhan nuzzles into his neck, leaving a kiss there. "Still am."

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Chill~

Wrote it all in an hour and 20 minutes just about? Not bad, not bad at all.

Ao3

First< Previous

----------

“Why! Why does it have to be so cold!” Marinette pulls on her coat tighter.

“Why did you come if you’re just going to complain?” Damian scowls, looking over the list they were given.

“Dick asked me to,” Marinette shivers, “Besides I need to get out and see the city, you said you would show me,”

“I only agreed to this because Dick insisted I apologize for trying to kill you,”

“You were trying to kill me?”

“... No?”

“Damian,”

“Fine,” He pulls off the sweater he was wearing, the one she had made him, “My bad, now keep warm,”

“My bad is not an apology,” Marinette chides pulling the sweater on, “If you didn’t like the sweater you could have just said so,”

“That's not-” Damina turn to see her smirk, tutting then turning back around, “You're incorrigible,”

“Your apology is accepted,” Marinette giggles skipping slightly to catch up, she takes note of how he shivers as a gust of wind blows through, “Hey you're cold now right? I have an idea,”

“I’m not cold,” Damian snaps, picking up the pace, “Unlike you, I have more discipline than that,”

“Oh please, you grew up in the desert right?” Damian glares at her, “What? You think I didn’t know anything? Maman not as good at hiding things as she thinks she is,”

“Be careful where you say that,” He warns, they walk for a little while more the temperature dropping. Marinette continues to keep an incredulous eye on Damian. After ten minutes he sighs, “What's your idea?”

“It involves me getting on your back,”

“Not a chance,” Damian tuts, “You could stab me in the back,”

“Literally or figuratively?” Another glare but Marinette just smiles under it, “Fine then, I’ll just take this sweater off and we can both freeze,”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Damian snatches it off her, “I’ll just wear it,”

And so he does. They walk for a while longer Marinette simultaneously congratulating and cursing herself for picking such a warm fabric for Damian's sweater as she shivers in the cold Gotham winds. Her teeth are chattering and they are still a long way off from their destination. Marinette starts to slow down, ever since she had become ladybug her tolerance to the cold was lowering, like how Adrien's eyesight at night kept improving; although she probably got the short end of the stick for that one. Her thoughts are interrupted by a long suffered sigh from Damian.

“Fine, we’ll do your plan,”

“Really?!”

“If we actually want to get there today, yes,”

 ---

 “This was your plan!” Damian shouts as they run down the street.

“It’s a great plan!’ Marinette clings to his back.

“Everyones staring,” Damian scowls, the sweater just big enough to stretch over both of them locking Marinette against his back.

“Then run faster!”

“Maybe if you stopped strangling me I would!”

“Oh please, stop being dramatic,”

“Why don't you start running and we’ll see whos being dramatic!”

“I could probably get there before you!”

“Yeah right, you-”

“Wait! Wait! Go back!” Marinette tugs, Damian lets out a choked sound stopping as he brings his hands up to remove hers.

“What,” He is unable to get her off with the sweater around them both.

“Pet store,” Marinette shimmies down, managing to get out with some difficulty, “Look how cute- wait,”

“Where are you going!” Damian calls as she storms into the pet store, he trails reluctantly behind her. Marinette walks right up to the desk slamming her hand down.

“Excuse me are you in charge of this store?”

“I’m the manager, yes,” The man raises an eyebrow looking up from his newspaper.

“Are you aware that the enclosure out there is filthy?” 

“Animals get dirty,”

“It’s a health code violation,” Marinette scolds, “You're going to make the animals sick,”

“Tt, she’s right,” Damian looks around the store, the rest of the cages in even worse condition, “Just what sort of business do you think you're running? These are live animals, you can’t even see into the fish tank at this point,”

“I’ve followed company policy,” The manger huffs, going back to the newspaper adding a mocking, “So if you want to take it up with anyone take it up with them,”

“Oh I will,” Damian hisses, before going to the other end of the store intently tapping at his phone.

“Ha, have fun getting bounced around the phones for the next ten hours,” The manager barks, Marinette rolls her eyes turning back to him.

“Look it may not be required by your employer but try to have some compassion these are living creatures, they look miserable,”

“Well then, why don’t you buy them if they look so miserable,”

“That's not the root of the problem and you know it,” Marinette reasons with the unreasonable, “You’ll just replace them with more animals, this place isn’t fit for that,”

She could just feel the negative energy coming from the place, a place of suffering for those who had no way out. Her magic had perked the animals up a bit but that wouldn't solve the problems at hand. Not that any of this seemed to get through to the manager as Marinette kept arguing. She brought up her phone and articles to help support her argument. Only finding to her disdain that the pet store franchise itself had a long history of animal abuse, that this was the norm, not an exception. They just threw money at any lawsuit that came their way and bribing inspectors.

“Why are you even working here if you hate-”

“Excuse me,” A new customer walks up, Damian close behind, “Could I look-”

“Do whatever you like!” The manager snaps, “Can’t you see I’m busy here?!”

“Do you treat all your customers like this? No wonder your not getting any business if the facilities alone didn’t scare people off,” Marinette finally snaps. Damian, dare she say looks impressed, which probably isn’t a good sign.

“You’re insulting me now?”

“I’ve been insulting you the past hour, nice of you to catch on,”

From there it devolves into a full argument. They rage while Damian and the other customer poke around the store, talking to each other. Damian keeps on making calls and Marinette wishes he would stop and come help back her up, he seemed just as disgusted with this place as she was. But whenever she sends a look his way Damian just brushes her off going back to his call.

The argument escalates. Marinette's magic lashing out, subconsciously sending the animals into a frenzy. Barks and howls ring out mixed with cat yowls and whatever noise the other animals can manage.

“Quiet down you!” The manager roars, winding up to hit a puppy yapping at him, Marinette moves just a fraction of a second too slow.

“How dare you,” Damian catches the fist, twisting the arm in a painful unnatural position, “You’re fired,”

“You can’t fire me!” He struggles in Damian's grip, who in turn looks completely unfazed by the effort.

“Actually I can,” Damina flips his screen around to show a contract, “I just brought the company,”

“You what?!” Both Marinette and the manager shout at the same time.

“Yes well, it was easy enough to get in touch with the president of the company, when I put in my offer he laughed me off,” Damian shrugs letting the shell shocked man go, “So I called in one of our best lawyers,”

Damian nods to the other customer, who nods back.

“She built a case for us compiling evidence from this store, thank you for full access by the way,” Damian looks smugly at the manager gaping like a fish, “Other lawyers were in charge of inspecting other stores and researching past allegations, and I had some working internationally look at the branches in other countries, the results were not flattering,”

Damian's glare turns cold and piercing. Marinette had been on the receiving end of that glare and would like to think she handled it better than this guy was.

“Couple that all with the declarations I recorded from you arguing with Marinette,” Damina inclines his head to her, Marinette nods kind of dumbly, “And we had quite the case to shut the business down, you can guarantee the Wayne influence and lawyers would prevent this all from being swept under the rug,”

“Wayne?!”

“Yes, and as you can imagine after we sent through the case file the owner wasn't laughing me off the phone, he agreed to my price,” The man was sweating buckets now as Damian advanced looming over him, “The contracts aren't finalized or signed yet but you can guarantee by the end of the week I will own this place,”

Damian leans over him as the manager tries to sink into the floor.

“So. You. Are. Fired.”

 ---

 “So are you going to teach me the glare that makes grown men pee their pants and run for their lives or do I have to figure it out myself?” Marinette teases, picking through the stocks in the back.

“You wouldn't be able to pull it off,” Damian shoots back, taking the bag she hands him, “An emergency demand was put out for new workers, they’ll be here soon to do this,”

“Oh no you don’t you little rich boy,” Marinette laughs at the face he makes, “You don’t just get to roll through here, throw some money at it and expect your job to be done, you took this company on so show a little responsibility,”

“I am taking responsibility,” Damian scowls, “I fully plan on improving this place,”

“What? By hiring someone to take over with the vague demands of ‘make it better’?” Damian sour look is all the answer she needs, “No way, this is your own responsibility and no one else's, so you need to take a long hard look at what's wrong and figure out how to fix it,”

“If I recall this all is partly your fault,” Damian stacks another bag where she told him too.

“If I recall I didn’t tell you to buy an entire pet store franchise,” Not that she didn’t approve, “But fine, I’ll help you out if you want,”

“I didn’t say that,”

“You didn’t have to,” Damian huffs and looks away, Marinette smiles and picks up a bag of food, “First things first, the food is horrible quality, it’s all filler with little nutritional value,”

“I’ll order new stock right away,” Damian takes out his phone, Marinette snatches it from him.

“Hold on now,” Damian gives her that little put off look she finds adorable, “You have to look at all the problems first then make a plan of action or you're just running around like a headless chicken,”

“Your point?”

“The staff are also underpaid, it’s not enough to live off and certainly not enough to motivate a good work ethic,” Marinette hands back the phone, Damian pockets it, “So before you go around firing everyone that's ever worked here why don’t you try changing the bones of the company then picking out the bad seeds?”

“Alright,” Damian concedes, “... You have a point,”

“Was that tough to admit?”

“The only excruciating part of it is your smugness,”

“Why hello kettle,” Damina gives her a light glare but she just laughs it off.

“All these changes are going to be expensive,” Damian frowns looking through the statistics the lawyers had sent them, “The company was already falling into debt,”

“It needs a hook,” Marinette hums, “Something new and unique that no other chain has…. I got it!!”

She brushes past him, going for her sketchbook and starting the brainstorming process.

“Would you like to share your epiphany?” Damian asks after about five minutes of watching her sketch. “An exclusive pet clothesline!”

“Oh boy,”

 ---

 “See I was right wasn't I?” Marinette finishes fixing the outfit onto Titus.

“I was under the impression you were going to make something vapid and ridiculous,” Damian deflects, looking at the raincoat Marinette had made for Titus, it fit him perfectly and worked well with his fur color as well, “This is at least useful,”

“Wow, that might be a bigger compliment than ‘it’s well made’ or is it?” Marinette cocks her head to the side, “Should I start a ‘Damian's compliments’ tier list?”

“Do not,” Damian calls Titus back to him, taking off the raincoat, “This should at least partly help make up for the new expenses,”

“What changes should we make first?” Marinette follows Damian inside, already sketching new designs into her book.

“There's no point in launching the pet clothes until the company goes through its rebrand, and that will take some time anyway,” They settle in a study they had commandeered to work together in, a sewing machine up near the window, “By the way whats your design fee?"

“Hm… make me a co-owner and we’ll forget about the design fee,” Marinette smiles as Damian doesn't immediately look disgusted by the prospect, “Besides If I recall this is partly my fault,”

“Fine co-owner,” Damian rolls his eyes at her, “I guess we’ll be drafting a new contract,”

“Make sure our shares are 50/50,”

“80/20,”

“Awe you’d let me have 80%”

Damian gives her a withering glare with no heat.

“50/50,” Marinette holds out her hand, “Equal,”

“... Equal,” Damian takes her hand, “You better design a lot of clothes,”

“Already on it,” Marinette holds up her new sketchbook, dedicated to just this, “Plus I’ll be part of the planning so let me in on it,”

“I was-” Damian cuts off glaring towards the door, Marinette follows his eye to see Dick and Adrien caught like deer in headlights looking at them with phones held up.

“Adrien!” Marinette starts towards them getting overtaken by Damian as they both start sprinting.

“Delete it or I destroy your phone!” He threatens, chasing them down the hall.

“Already backed it up to several computers!” Dick calls back, disappearing around the corner, the three yells disappearing into the distance. Marinette chuckles to herself, going back to finish up her designs.

--------

No tag list :P

[revivedandabandonedkids]

The Portrait of Afuro Terumi (01~05)

! Double Gods

! Unfinished 

-

01.

There's a long corridor in the deep of the mansion, and a giant room at the end of it that Father tells Hiroto to keep away from.

"Why?" He asks whenever he catches a rare chance to occupy Father's time.

The answers are different every time.

"There's a cool draft seeping through. You might catch a cold."

"There's nothing at the other end to entertain you with."

"It's a dusty dusty room. You might catch a cough."

None of them are convincing enough.

He turns to Hitomiko-nee-san once to see if he can get a more satisfactory explanation, but his sister merely rolls her eyes and say. "It's because the hall is haunted. Duh."

Hiroto can't tell if she's trying scare him off or if she's just tired of trying to come up with an excuse, but the answer sends shivers down his spine.

"Have you ever been?"

She scoffs. "Of course not. Father told us to stay out for a reason."

She's a goodie-two-shoes like that.

So Hiroto asks on.

"You might get lost in the dark."

"The door is locked and I've lost the key."

It's obvious that with the older he gets, the less patience Father has for the question. The answers turn short and clipped, when eventually it turns into a single-

"Just keep away."

And then he stops talking to Father altogether.

-

02.

His curiosity stays unquenched.

-

03.

It's easy to get bored inside the mansion.

It doesn't matter how ridiculously large a house is, once you get used to the bounds, the place settles in a quiet thrum of mundaneness, and Hiroto's spent years trapped within those walls.

It's ridiculous, how the mansion's settled on a mountain. Isn't it awfully inconvenient to get to society? Maybe the land's cheaper on the mountains, but it's not like his family lacks money, so what's the excuse there, Father?

The Kira mansion looks like one of those CGI layered Haunted House In The Deep Of The Woods On A Stormy Night in horror movies. Clearly the best place to raise your children.

Hiroto used to freak out at night when the shadows stretched too long on the ceiling and the air conditioner whirred too loudly in his spacey room, but as he grew, the fear started altering into gaping loneliness. Then even that was gone, and all that was left was emptiness.

It's a miracle that he hasn't developed some sort of emotional trauma from all the neglect.

Or maybe Hiroto is traumatized, and just doesn't know how to identify it.

He can't wait to be old enough to get his own place. A place far far far away.

And that's when Hiroto gets the first idea of the secrets residing in the house.

When he tells his future escape plans to his friend(?) Haizaki, the dark skinned underclassman only nods thoughtfully and says, “I’d be dying to move out of a cursed house too.”

Hiroto narrows his eyes. “Cursed?” That’s the second time he’s heard that word applied to his residence, but it’s the first time he’s hearing it from an outsider. “What do you mean cursed?”

“There’s a rumor.” Haizaki seems reluctant to answer. “People talk about it all the time: There’s a ghost, or an angry spirit of some sort? Anyway, it supposedly killed a bunch of dudes before finally being sealed inside a secret chamber. I wouldn’t know. I just think your house is creepy.”

Creepy it is. Cursed? Hiroto doesn’t know.

“I think I know what chamber you’re talking about.” Hiroto tells him. Because what other room would be considered as a secret chamber other than the room he’s prevented from entering?

Is that the reason it’s forbidden to him? Because his Father is a superstitious shithead? Why keep living in the house, then?

“Seriously? That chamber exists?” Haizaki’s eyes widen. “That’s freaky.”

“You wanna come see it?” Hiroto offers with a smirk.

Haizaki scoffs. “Because we both know that you don’t have the guts to poke around by yourself.”

Hiroto flushes darkly, trying to uphold some sort of composure as the elder one present. “That’s not- I’m just granting you the chance because you look interested.” So really, Haizaki should be thanking him.

Haizaki guffaws, and it’s a very unattractive voice, mind you. “I’m not risking the chance of getting cursed, rumor or not. You’re on your own, buddy.”

"You still believe in sorcery and witchcraft?" Hiroto taunts. "What a baby."

For once, Haizaki doesn't take the bait like the easily-riled-up dumbass he is, and simply retorts. "Like you're one to talk. You wouldn't be yapping at me to go with you if you weren't afraid of it yourself."

Shit. He actually has a point. Except-

"I'm not afraid." Hiroto narrows his eyes. "The only reason I haven't gone into the room is because Father explicitly told me not to."

"And you listen to him since when?"

Hiroto shuts up. He hates it when other people are right, especially if "other people" is Haizaki.

-

04.

"Why am I not allowed to go in that room?" Hiroto asks. It's been years since he last questioned about it.

"You can't just barge in here whenever you want, Hiroto." His Father has a look of displeasure on his face, probably upset since Hiroto bursted into his home office abruptly without even a knock.

"Tell me why I not allowed in. The truth. Not some half-assed lie."

"I thought you've dropped that childhood nonsense already."

Hiroto feels his throat closing up. His clenched fists shake. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm your father, Hiroto."

Hiroto scowls.

"Hitomiko-nee-san says it's haunted. There's a rumor outside that it's cursed." He says bluntly.

"There's no such thing as ghosts or curses, Hiroto. You're the heir of the Kira company. We don't indulge in fantasies or superstition." His Father furrows his eyebrows condescendingly. "You should know better."

-

05.

And that's why Hiroto's sneaking into the Forbidden Corridor, glaring at the giant door in front of him.

So there is a room here.

Well, that's pretty much a given, since a corridor leading to nowhere would be a pretty idiotic design.

It looks like a fairly plain door. It's wooden and the paint is peeled. From the bright beam of the flashlight on his phone, he can see that there's dust all over the surface of the doorknob. This place hasn't seen any visitors in a long while.

"Listen, I can't stop you if you still want to get cursed, but word of advice: Don't interact with anything. Don't touch anything. Don't respond to any noise. In and out. Higher chance of survival."

It's not like Hiroto needs survival tips from Haizaki Ryouhei. That would most likely increase his chances of getting his soul sucked out of his body or whatever.

The door makes an ominous creak when it cracks open.

It's brighter than he expected. There's a beam of afternoon sunlight spilling through a ceiling window. He turns off the flashlight.

It's an almost empty storage room. That is to say, it would be empty, if not for the enormous life sized painting strung up on the wall to the far side of the room.

It's a portrait of a person. Or maybe an ethereal being. The depicted subject sat regally in the center, with a Greek chiton draping over their slender figure. Long blonde hair the shade of melted sunlight flows down their shoulders, shrouding a pale, fair face with elegant eyebrows arching over striking red eyes and a teasing smile twitching at the edge of their mouth. Between their left fingers is an elegant wine glass, a golden fluid fills it to the brim. The background is a muddled mistiness.

It looks like a very ordinary painting. The frame has little cracks littered all over. Under the frame lays a caption:

Afuro Terumi (????) It is said that this painting brings happiness.

Hiroto snorts. Some cursed room. There's nothing but what looks like a religious painting. Is this what Father is so amendment on keeping Hiroto away from? Does Father even know what's inside this room? Why would he hang a (seemingly expensive) picture where no one could see it?

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Hiroto crosses his arms in front of his chest and tips his chin up in a mock sneer. "They say you're cursed." He says loudly, fixing his gaze on the being portrayed in the center of the canvas- Afuro Terumi, probably. "Well, they say the room is cursed, but you're the only one here, aren't you? What do you say?"

Afuro Terumi's face breaks into a wide smile. "I'd tell you they're right. I am cursed."

-[Next]

Okay just to be clear, this is still some what a wip.

I have most of the plot figured out, and have written about 1/3 of the entire story already, but I have a reputation of not finishing wips. So.

I don't know when the next part will be out yet. Keep a lookout if interested. Ignore this if not.

Bear in mind that this is written at the spur of the moment. I put like 0 effort into this, but still spent a lot of time because typing takes a considerable amount of time oof.

I am not going to apologize for putting 0 effort, because I wrote this piece purely to entertain myself. It's very very self-indulgent. And also because it's just not worth it putting too much heart into my ina eleven stories.

Nothing against the ina eleven fandom. I love this community, I really do, but it gets tiring sometimes and I don't have the energy to fight off bad emotions. I'm only trying to protect myself.

Being a fanfiction writer isn't easy work. I've been writing for roughly six years, and only recently did I come to this realization that as a writer, I don't need to write to please anyone else. It's my own opinion that matters. I write for small fandoms and very rare pairings, so feedback never comes easy. I'm sure other writers can relate. No feedback makes it way too easy to doubt oneself. That had taken a toll on my emotional health in the past, over and over again. Then I decided that I'm done with doubting myself over a hobby. So I no longer ask for comments, because I don't want to set myself up for disappointment.

There had been a time in my life that I thought I would stop writing. At least stop putting my writing online. There's just no motivation for it. But then someone came up to me and told me that they love my stories, that I'd convinced them to ship a rarepair, that they want to try writing now. That changed my mind, and helped shape my mindset the way it is today. I don't need to write for a crowd. I just need to write for myself, and the very few who enjoy my stories as well.

This rant turned out to be more personal than I'd intended, and ended on a happier note than I thought it would. So if you're still here, advice for other struggling writers: find your audience, your support system. Find those who are willing to discuss ideas with you. It gets better from there. ♡

[gridgamesgalore]

hallo !! I will put this in segments for each character i own cause yeha ,,, I also donr have much backstory lore put together unlike my partner star who has well written backstory yeha

[ tw long tangent on stupid loj object show lore ]

pawny : oh wow we ' re starting with this stupid LOSER /aff OKAY OKAY OKAY WHERE THE HELL DO I START WITH HIS BACKGROUND ,,,,, oka firt pawnggeyey is the oc of fiorkr which is kidnsa reflected in this so be wary yeha !! pqnegsuwjeky was ahem part of a hivemind [ this is what i like to call the other chess pieces apart of their selected chessboard ] and this place was like a toxic family scary !! pawngy was lowkey bullied for thinking differently compared to them [ this will happen again ] but never really understood any of these insults other than knowing they were negative [ tone difficulties ]

eventually the stupid guy escaped and got interested in hosging like a competition !! and found two otber peodoelek to help he host this show !! [ the pillar-rune thing and basically if the periodic table was a person featuring fractal and polyrhythm ; will talk about them later ( theres little for pillar because they barely have development oka i finally decided on a second co-host after a few months on scrapping no-way-out the original second co-host ]

pan2gdywy started giving out flyers and stuff !! and kinda became friends with this thing dgfc [ will talk about them later ] eventually panwgsyw eventually figured out through contdxt clues and several negative experiences that its hard to hand out flyers by heself and most objects donr really care .. so he hired an advertiser named kurtis [ this has been canon lore for several months but the name kurtis is an inside joke between star and me ( and maybe jitter but im not sure if they knoe ) ]

this advertiser named kurtis while making flyers and stuff kind of played tricks and falsely advertiser the competition prize as money [ pawngy did not agree to this as he did not have a plan for the plan but he was broke at the time so he could not supply money at all ; this is one of the several reasons pawngy ' s contestants hated he even thought THIS WASNT THEIR FAULT !!! ] after the show started this advertiser named kurtis disappeared !! uh heudjkcmd

during this show ,,, panwgdys believed that most of the contestants who participated somewhat had a neutral-positive opinion on him abdbjebxk3 and then later in the liv one of them [ contestant maily ; will not talk about their lore since they do not belong to me /nm ] told or asked pawngy [ why doesnt ] people like him

this discovery made pawngd realize that most of the people in the show just put up a facade just to deal with him ,,, he knew that a few of the contestants didnt like him at first [ crossy ,, magnent ] but he didnt expect that mostly EVERYONE hates his guts ,, [ the only person who has a positive view on pawngy is mr periodic table ( dgfc also linked panwgy but they fucking DIED !! ) the ones who are neutral towards he even at the end of show are bob ,, bowtieu ,, and fiknife ]

shortly after this ahem discovery he gets overly anxious about his actions while giving instructions on the competition to the point he just lets mr periodic table host instead for the day [ what a loser ]

during his absence ,, one of the evil evil EVIL livlings [ contestant crossy ] out of pure hatred starts spreading harmful rumors about him via mr periodic table ' s inability to speak english [ they falsely translate mr periodic table ' s statements as they had the job of translation for mr pt before ] mr periodic table did not approve to this so they went to pawngy to tell him that this had been happening

panwg did not know how to process this at firt as he was depressed as shit during this time ;;;; but it eventually sunk in and he began the phrase ts pmo and made crossy bite the curb in just one move [ panwwnghyetsys has immense strength yet he wasnt aware of this until the corssy curb biting was done ]

so um more stuff happeend that I havent fleshed out but pawnwgy relaizj3s thag they are transfer anxbd prksmo3tes to a quene cause chess logic ♡♡♡♡ she is so cool guys

mr periodic table : this dude doesnt have much lore [ they do its just that half of it isbt liv and pawngy related ] this guy was originally made as an oc to scruffy [ yahaba kny ] not just for silliness and stuff but also to cope with flea encounter number two !!

their purpose in that universe of the scruffylings is that they fight their arch nemesis typhus [ kaigaku kny ' s fanmade oc ] who spread flea [ vro is just a big walking lice berry bug flea flag ] and beats the shit of that thing everytime !!! they are based off polyrhythms ,, fractals ,, and ahem .. the periodic table as i believe those are scruffys fixations !!

I would also like to mention that the alias thag is perhaps " mr periodic table " is a nickname given to them by the contestants as their name can literally be any element on the periodic table ,, the most common element name I refer to them as is " xenon " as it is the element i mostly use for their face display [ its TOTALLY not because it has the atomic number of fifty-four /sarc /silly ]

they do have an object form though !! [ tw old ]

im not going to get started on bob

dozenal grandfather clock [ dgfc ] : oh yay the second agender one we ' re talking about !! I really enjoy this pejfbrjeksks because they so cool !!! as their name suggests they are connected to dozenal lore deeply [ they are apart of the stupid dozenalgram lore ; this stupid clock is the main reason why liv is connected to my nbs lore ]

this stupid clock guy has been repaired and rebuilt several times its crazy ,, these are the reasons for each rebuiltion !!

origin - built for idek dozenal innovation ??

firt rebuild - origin rebuilt for maintenance [ did not flesh out ]

second rebuild - rebuilt cause their last counterpart got defenestrated

third rebuild - a fuckign building collapsed on their last counterpart ; this counterpart worked in a minimum wage place at the time [ liv : rush hour which is about clocks working minimum wage yeha ] was handed the flyer by younger pawngu during that time

fougtr rebuild - last counterpart suffered from mold [ like mold bob ] specifically stachybotrys variant ;;;; black mold yehahdhdhsnd !! this counterpart actually participated in liv !! they die

ffith rebuild - rebuilt because of last counterpart VIOLENTLY EXPLODING because of ced [ clock exploding disease ] and releasing creatures among the world ; not much to say abt this variant other than theyre scared to interact with other contestants from the show 💔

there is more characters of mine that have lore but like not much lore um plus i donr know how to yap about them but they are there and they exist !! uh for this inconvenience I shall show yuo pictures of them which only two have somewhat lore ♡♡

anything this is way too long ummm !!! SILENT SALT JUMPSCARE !!!! EUAAGUGHHHH !!!!

do yuo perhaps ...

wanna learn about liv character lore ♡♡ /nf

Yes yes yes YES YES YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY PLEASE I love lore and shit and silly and !!!! /silk /i❤️lore /the /ouahjd /gets hit with a metal pipe 183779 times (ow)

[creep3r-chan]

HEART THE EMOJI THE!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU LOWSHAY I read all of that I love yap sessions.... Absurd horrendous amount of OC lore I LOVE IT!!!! literally literally tank you (military tank(explodes)) uhh uhh SAN KYU!!! I love reading yap post at 2 am thank you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ many hart HART UR YAP AND ART!! and you ofc /P /silk /ushkfomem /YAHOO!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

do yuo perhaps ...

wanna learn about liv character lore ♡♡ /nf

Yes yes yes YES YES YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY PLEASE I love lore and shit and silly and !!!! /silk /i❤️lore /the /ouahjd /gets hit with a metal pipe 183779 times (ow)