The fact that we know Jumin can actually feel hurt if people make fun of him for being weird/cold/robotic but Cheritz still gave us no good options to talk about him is FOUL
And what even is that arranged marriage thing that he never brought up in his own game
Notes: June is my favourite (they’re insufferable and I love them so much) and Dante is also one of them and I think I’ve been pretty good not showing favoritism so far but please don’t hold your breath lmao.
Warnings: Alludes/references to sex and also harsh language, bc it’s June. Parental guidance recommended quite proud of myself for being so tame so far actually Here is what June is wearing (only in red), for anybody interested
Night had fallen between five minutes and five hours ago, somebody had been knocking on the door for too long, and June was pissed. They rolled their head around on their folded arms, glaring at the door. “I told you to piss off! We’re done, you cunt. You want more? You chose the wrong person.”
June listened with a tilted head for a second, then gave a satisfied grunt and leaned over to refill their glass. Taco’s big eyes peered at them worriedly from under the table, obviously sensing the anger bubbling just below the surface. They tickled his chin.
“Um,” said a voice from the other side of the door. “What did I do?”
June paused mid-sip, red staining their lips and a few drops trickling down their chin as their drunk mind struggled to process the voice and what it meant. “Fuck,” they said, and stumbled up from the couch. They couldn’t really walk straight, but they could direct their very slow drawn out fall toward the door.
Dante started to say something the moment the door opened, but he broke off as they lurched through it and used him as support, digging their nails into him like a cat.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” they demanded. They tried to keep the slurring to a minimum, but it had the opposite effect. Their tone did, too, considering the fact they had to crane their neck to see his face at this angle.
He said, aghast, “What are you wearing?”
“Don’t ignore my question.” They jabbed a nail at his face.
“You-” he seemed to collect himself, grabbed them by the shoulders and hefted them inside. He kicked the door shut behind them. “Is that lingerie?”
“No,” they said witheringly, “it’s a three-piece suit.”
He rolled his eyes. They ignored him, wobbling into the kitchen with too little dignity. They knew he would snoop, and snoop he did: he whistled after a moment.
“Been having some fun?” he asked, holding up a shirt. It wasn’t theirs, it had ended up behind the couch somehow, and it had also been shredded to ribbons, each gaping hole seamed with red.
They finally relented and an all-teeth smile found its way onto their face. “Maybe.”
“Looks like it,” Dante dropped down onto the bar stool. “I didn’t think you owned lingerie.”
“I didn’t think you cared, and I preferred it that way,” June snapped back.
“Alright, fine.” Dante tapped his palms on the counter. “Do you still have the beers I left here last time?”
“Yes,” June replied. They made no effort to take two steps to get it out of the refrigerator.
“Thanks,” Dante muttered, standing to get it himself. “Do I need to do damage control?”
June didn’t know what he meant, until he tapped his newly acquired bottle against their head. “Your friend. Are they still alive?”
“I’m not an idiot,” they said waspishly, slapping his hand away. “They’re alive, I’ve done it before with them. They enjoy it.” They made a face. “Too much.”
Dante frowned. “Too much?”
“They wanted to... stay. Afterward.”
“Okay.” The corners of Dante’s mouth crooked up. “Did they want anything else?”
June glared at him. Stayed silent.
“June?” His smile was growing wider and wider by the second. “They did, didn’t they? They wanted to date-”
June grabbed his chin and yanked him down to their height. “Shut. Your. Mouth,” they snarled. Dante just looked them calmly in the eye, still smiling like an idiot. “Fine, they did, are you happy now? Get out of my house.”
“This isn’t a house, it’s an apartment,” Dante pointed out, because he wanted them to kill him. “You kicked them out, didn’t you.”
“Of course I did!”
“June.”
“I said, shut your mouth.”
“Did you think about saying yes? For even a second?”
“No.” Their nails scraped on the counter, audible irritation.
“Maybe you should-”
“Drop it.” They leaned in very close to him and there was a very dangerous glint in their black eyes. “Now.”
Dante’s lips thinned. He said, “Fine.”
“Fantastic.” June brushed past him, now too steady for their liking. They found what they wanted in the wine cupboard: a bottle that had been there for a few centuries. “Let’s get pissed.”
“You’re already drunk.”
“Not as much as I’d like to be. Demon. Burn it off too quickly.”
“Okay.” Dante drained the rest of his bottle, reached into the fridge to get the rest. “Then let’s get drunk.”
MOVIE TRIVIA: In the early 80s, June's first draft of "The Terminator" was rejected by the studio because they didn't think "Terrifying cyborg assassin sent from the future to stop Sarah Connor from shopping at Tesco" was exciting enough.
sometimes tumblr is nice because i know i can post whatever here and nobody will ever ever care. ever. yeah i haven't taken my meds yet and this thought is vaguely embarrassing but i must speak my truth .its not like people will find it anyways so nobody can harass me over it
