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scuderiahoney · 2 months

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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 2

hockey au part 2: a lil backstory, Max Verstappen’s Pizza Theory, breakfast for dinner, and the beginnings of a physics study club. 5.7k words

warnings: mentions of sports related injuries, alcohol, and a creepy guy at a party.

You met Lando your freshman year, in an intro level writing class. Lando Norris may be great at hockey, but he was and still is absolutely atrocious at writing, which you discovered quickly when you’d been paired up with him for a partner project. He was the most talkative person in the whole class, and also the most likely to fall asleep. You couldn't blame him. It was an 8 am class, and from what you could tell, he had early morning hockey practices nearly every day.

He’d noticed the Timberwolves Soccer sticker on your laptop case, the one you’d been picking at the edges of at any available moment, trying to peel it off. It wouldn’t budge. He’d tried to use that as a common interest, a way to make a connection. He hadn’t known how much of a touchy subject it was. How could he have? The two of you barely knew each other's names.

You’d been angry at the world, at the time. Fresh off a life changing injury, still dealing with the physical therapy afterwards and stuck feeling like it was all so painfully obvious due to the knee brace on your leg. You’d only come to the stupid school to play on the soccer team, anyways. A month into your freshman year, injured and off the roster, with your chances of ever playing again looking bleak, you’d had a hard time trying to find a new reason to be there.

Before you met Lando, the soccer team had been your main source of friends. When you got injured, it all went to shit. At first, you hadn’t blamed them for the distance. You were dealing with something none of them even wanted to think about. But when you had to have surgery and none of them even bothered to text and check in, you’d begun to feel bitter. It had felt so lonely, in a town where you knew nobody, and the few people you’d connected with had slipped away. Lando had helped change that. His team had helped change that.

By the time you had to have a second surgery during winter semester, you’d been fully adopted by the entire Timberwolves Hockey team. They’d sent cards and flowers that filled up the room. Lando had visited every day, at least one of his teammates in tow. Max hadn’t been team captain at the time, but he’d taken the lead on getting a schedule set up to have people help carry your things to class for you while you were on crutches. You’d found a family, a reason to stay at the school, even without your beloved sport. You’d never be able to thank them enough for it.

Now you’re in your junior year of college and sitting in the stands at a hockey game instead of on the field at a soccer game, but the people on the ice are all your best friends. They’re losing, quite terribly, if you’re being honest. The stands are half empty. They’re just… off, today, in the second game of the week. Not quite in sync. You can see the frustration on all of them even from all the way up in the stands. Charles and Carlos are bickering on the bench. Max is skating messily. Lando looks lost on the ice, like his skates have a mind of their own. Even Oscar is struggling.

When the buzzer sounds for the end of the game, you stand up from your seat and head outside. Lily’s not here tonight- she has to work- so you’re on your own as you head toward the house. You text Max and ask if you should order pizza. He replies with an enthusiastic yes, a list of requests, and $100 on Venmo.

You have the pizza waiting, along with paper plates and Gatorade, by the time the first one of them walks into the house. It’s Oscar. He shuffles into the kitchen and looks at the pizza boxes with a wrinkled nose.

“Are you guys having a party?” He asks.

You sort of hate the way he says it. You guys. Like it’s not his house. Like it’s not his team. You know the feeling, really, of sort of just drifting along with nothing to cling onto. You tilt your head at him and slide a bottle of Gatorade across the counter towards him.

“No,” you say, and his shoulders relax slightly. “Usually after a tough game, Max likes to do some sort of team bonding. So. Pizza. He didn’t tell you?”

Oscar shrugs. “He probably did. Dunno. I was kind of out of it, and I snuck out as soon as the coaches were done yelling.”

You wince and nod in understanding. “I used to be the same way after bad games.”

You don’t even realize what you’ve hinted at until his head jerks up from where he’s been staring at the bottle in front of him. “You play sports?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. You suppose he’ll hear the story eventually, but maybe now isn’t the best time. Maybe he doesn’t need your pity party while he’s trying to have his own. Maybe it’s nice that he doesn’t feel bad for you, just confused by you and your constant presence around the hockey team.

“Used to,” you say. When his face flickers with confusion, you hand him a paper plate. “Have some pizza. Captain’s orders.”

He stands there, staring, looking so unsure.

“You can take it up to your room if you really want, I won’t tattle” you say, and he twists his mouth. “Honestly, though? I hate to watch you guys lose, but sometimes these nights are some of the best. You should stick around.”

He pulls a piece of pepperoni pizza from the box and sets it on the plate. Then he takes a seat at one of the kitchen island barstools. You hope he doesn’t hear your sigh of relief.

An hour later, the kitchen, dining room, and back deck are full of people, and they’re all complaining about the game. Charles and Carlos are at the table, no longer angry with each other, instead complaining about a defenseman on the other team. Lando’s draped over Alex’s shoulder, loudly fake crying over god knows what. Oscar’s on Alex’s other side, laughing loudly at Lando’s dramatics.

You’re pouring drinks for the three of them- you’d offered when you noticed the empty cups. It’s not a party, but the alcohol helps numb the bitter feeling of a bad game. Max is standing nearby, looking proud. He elbows you.

“Pizza theory,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

You laugh. “Yeah, Max. Another one for the pizza theory.”

He’s had this running… experiment, of sorts, for a couple years now. It started after a string of bad games your freshman year, his sophomore year. He’d pointed out that when the team had pizza together after a loss, the next game was always a win. So he’d begun trying things out and writing down the results- you’ve seen the Google document, now co-organized by Charles. Pizza leads to wins almost 95% of the time. Chinese sits at a healthy 70%. They tried Subway one time and all got so sick off of it they nearly had to cancel the next game, so they never tried again.

You’ve told him before that you don’t think it’s really about the pizza- it’s about the time spent together, and the space to be just teammates again. It’s not like they’re apologizing or talking strategy, but put a bunch of greasy food in front of them and they’ll start to unwind. Mend bridges. Build new ones, even, you think, as you watch Oscar and Alex chat, heads leaned close together.

They win the next game by one point. It’s an away game, but you watch it from your apartment with Lily and a couple other friends, grinning the whole way through. You have pizza in honor of Max’s theory. Charles nearly tackles Oscar onto the ice when he scores. When the camera zooms in on the smiles on both of their faces, your heart melts. Lando howls like a wolf at the end of the game, which is simultaneously endearing and cringe inducing. When they get back to the hotel, he FaceTimes you from the elevator. It’s full of hockey boys with big grins on their faces. Max, hair still dripping wet from the shower, his arm slung around Lando, is smiling brightest of them all.

“Pizza theory!” he yells, and you can’t fight a grin in return.

“Pizza theory indeed,” you reply.

Oscar’s head pops up on the screen. You can only see his eyes and forehead, and he seems to know, because he wiggles his brows. It makes you laugh.

“What’s pizza theory?” He asks.

“You have much to learn, young grasshopper,” Lando quips.

“We’ll show you the Google doc later,” Charles promises. “Right now, we are going to the pool.”

…..

Oscar doesn’t join in the game afterparties for weeks. You don’t take it personally, but you do wonder why he doesn’t want to celebrate with his team. You even ask Lando to make sure he knows he’s invited. Your friend just looks at you like you’re crazy, which you suppose you are.

In the end, the party he does show up at isn’t even one after a game. It’s a bye week, and Seb gives them Saturday night off of practice, so they throw what starts out as a hangout and quickly morphs into a full on party. There are people spilling out into the lawn. Lando’s in charge of the music and taking it very seriously. And Oscar is in the kitchen, chatting with Alex over their red plastic cups. It’s an odd sight, but a welcome one. You’re trying not to stare.

Instead, you’re standing nearby, listening to Charles and Carlos argue. It’s over something stupid, you’re pretty sure- it almost always is. Max is standing next to you, hiding his amusement behind his own plastic cup. The three of them have a weird dynamic. Charles and Carlos have known each other for a while- they played together on a team before they started college. Max and Charles go farther back, though. They’re childhood rivals turned captain and alternate captain. They’re all oddly competitive over who likes who more or less. It’s entertaining, to say the least.

You’re really only half listening, using them to take appropriate breaks from watching Oscar. You’d tried to convince yourself you were just keeping an eye on him at first, that you were making sure he was okay and having fun. Now, two drinks deep, you’ve stopped making excuses in your own head. You just like the way he looks in the glow of Lando’s cheesy LED light strips. They’re purple tonight. Oscar’s cheekbones are painted purple because of it. You know there are freckles there, dotting his skin. You wish you were close enough to see them.

Eventually, you leave the guys to their arguing, tear your eyes from Oscar, and start to wander the party. There’s a lot going on, and there are a lot of people in the house that you’ve never met before. That happens, at these sort of events, you’ve found. The unplanned ones end up being an odd mix of people. So when you find yourself leaning against a wall and a guy you don’t recognize comes up to talk to you, you’re not exactly surprised. When he plants his hand next to your head on the wall, though, that does surprise you.

“I hear they call you Bunny,” he says, leering over you.

You hate the way he uses the nickname, the way it sounds on his lips. He leans close, caging you in. You swallow tightly, trying to peer over his shoulder and spot any one of your friends. It’s no use. He’s tall and broad and blocking your view. You say a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that one of your friends notices your absence.

“My friends do, yeah,” you say, hoping he takes the hint. “Actually, I have to go find-“

He cuts you off when he leans closer. You press yourself back against the wall. You can smell the cheap beer on his breath. Your heart pounds in your chest. Fight or flight or freeze, time to choose.

“Come on, sweetie,” the guy says. “Be a good bunny and-“

Someone’s hand clamps down on his shoulder. That’s all you see before he’s ripped away from you. It’s like you can breathe again, suddenly, relief flashing through your brain like the purple lights in the kitchen. It’s followed quickly by concern, though, when you catch sight of what’s going on.

Oscar has him pinned against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, his other fist cocked back, elbow bent, ready to throw a punch. There’s fury on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Oscar doesn’t really fight. Not now, not at his previous team, not before then, either. You know it because Lando mentioned it when talking about how levelheaded he was. Plus, there are no helmets or pads to protect him here. Just him and his apparent anger.

“Mate,” Max says, carefully, appearing almost out of thin air. “Cool down, yeah?”

Oscar grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. You blink widely at the sight in front of you. Max’s eyes flicker to you, to the way you’re huddled against the wall, and understanding washes over his face.

“Piastri,” Max says, which seems to clear a bit of the fog from Oscar's head. The younger teammate turns to look at his captain and falters slightly. “I think you’ve proved your point.”

Oscar takes it for what it is- a thinly veiled command. Fighting on the rink is one thing. Fighting at a party they’re definitely not supposed to be having is another. Once they’re in motion, fights are difficult to stop, even harder to control, really. It'll get out of hand, so, so quickly. Seb would have their heads on a silver platter, and Max is always responsible for the actions of the team- it comes with being captain. He drops his fist and backs away slightly. Max nods.

The guy sneers at you, then Oscar, and then he spits on the floor near your feet. “Dumb bitch-“

In the blink of an eye, he’s pinned back to the wall, this time by Max, both hands on each of his shoulders. He tosses a look over his shoulder at Oscar.

“Get her out of here?” He says, and Oscar nods frantically.

He takes your hand, gentle as ever. You follow along nearly blindly as tears begin to well up in your eyes. Oscar weaves through the crowd, a man on a mission, and heads for the stairs. You dodge a couple who are making out on the top step, and he makes his way to his bedroom. They keep the rooms locked during parties- he punches his code in and ushers you inside. You nearly laugh through your tears when you see number 44, Lewis Hamilton, staring down from the poster on the wall. You wonder if Oscar knows he and Lando have matching ones.

He sits you down on the bed, reaching to turn on the lamp. He moves around the room quickly, and he tosses you a hoodie from his drawer, which you pull over your head gratefully. You hadn’t noticed until then how you had your own arms wrapped around your body, like you were hiding. You shake your hands out, flexing your fingers, trying to get the feeling back in them.

He sighs and reaches for the door. “Okay. You’re okay. Just- I’ll close the door behind me and-“

“Where are you going?” You ask, suddenly feeling panicky. You think it’s clear just from the sound of your voice, too.

“To get Lando,” he says, freezing in place, hand on the doorknob as he looks at you.

You sniffle. “Max will find him. Could you- can you- I don’t want to be alone, really, so-“

“Fuck. Shit. Sorry,” Oscar says.

Then he does the last thing you’d have expected. He sits down on the bed next to you, close enough to touch, and then wraps an arm around your shoulders. You gasp at the feeling, but lean into it, feeling a bit of relief running down your spine. His hand covers your whole shoulder.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, and you nod. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s okay,” you answer, unsure what he’s even apologizing for- almost leaving or touching you. Either way, it’s fine.

The two of you sit there in the relative quiet for a minute or two. Downstairs, the music is loud as ever. Oscar’s hand is heavy on your shoulder, and you’re still a bit stuck in fight or flight mode. Maybe you’re just frozen, really. You can still smell the beer on the other guy’s breath, can still see the anger on Oscar’s face, can still feel the panic when he was about to leave you. Your chest is tight, fingertips still buzzing.

“Were you actually going to punch him?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room, trying to find something to distract yourself.

Oscar huffs. “The first time, probably not. But when he called you a…” he shrugs. “If Max hadn’t been there…”

You turn to look at him. “Why?”

He blinks, almost taken aback that you’d even ask. “You know. Take care of the team and all.”

You sniffle. “But I’m not on the team.”

“Might as well be, all the time you spend here.”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off. “You don’t… you don’t care about me. You- why would you get into a fight for me?”

He’s quiet for a moment. You’re waiting for the canned answer. Because nobody else was around. Because I knew it’d earn me brownie points with the rest of the team. Because-

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “For making you feel like I didn’t care.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. His hand squeezes your shoulder. Your heart squeezes in your chest. You hadn’t meant for this to go this direction, and now your face is hot and your throat hurts and there are tears welling up behind your closed eyelids.

“I just… I showed up here, and everyone already has their friend groups and buddies and-“ he huffs again, and realization starts to dawn on you. “And they all love you, and they’re super protective of you. And I’ve been so busy trying to find my place here and not step on any toes, I guess I forgot to try and make friends, too, you know?”

You sigh. “I don’t bite, you know. I’m very easy to be friends with. I can be low maintenance if that’s what you need. Or- what’s Lando call it? Low frequency?”

Oscar laughs. “I know.”

You turn to look up at him, and your breath hitches when he reaches up and wipes a couple tears from your cheeks. An hour ago, you thought he couldn’t care less about you. Now you’re sitting in his room, and he’s wiping away tears with a tender touch that makes your stomach ache. His eyes trace your face, like he’s looking for injury, for a source of the pain. It’s overwhelming.

“Okay. So stop ignoring me in class? And in general?” You say, trying to redirect things.

He groans, dropping his chin to his chest. “That was- it wasn’t even on purpose, I just didn’t notice and then when I did it felt too late to say anything, so-“

You break off into a fit of giggles. He drops his arm from around your shoulder, and you miss the warmth immediately. You try not to let it show as he drags his hands over his face and echoes your laughter with his own. When you lean against his shoulder, your side pressed to his, he stays steady and lets you do it.

“It’s okay,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “Fresh start, yeah?”

He nods. You stick your hand out to him. He laughs and wraps his own around yours, shaking firmly.

“Awesome. Because I have a feeling you’re smart,” you say. “And I’m seriously going to fail our physics class unless you help me.”

Oscar laughs, and the way it takes over his whole body makes you smile. His head bumps against yours, but you can’t even find it in you to mind. It’s enough that he’s laughing around you.

“Okay, but you have to help me, too,” he says, hand still wrapped with yours, and he squeezes it. “I wanna fit in here. I mean, I’m not even from this continent, you know. So trying to find my place has been…”

Your heart aches for him. Suddenly it all makes sense. You know the feeling of being an outsider all too well. So you smile and nod and shake his hand again. “Deal.”

Lando comes and finds the two of you only a few minutes later. He knocks on the door, and Oscar opens it just a crack before he lets his teammate in. He leaves the two of you with a quick nod, seeming to understand that his job here is done. Lando takes you back to his room a few minutes later, his arm around your waist and his head knocking against yours. You pass Max in the hallway, who exchanges a look with Lando and reaches out to squeeze your arm. You’re sure he’ll interrogate you tomorrow to make sure you’re feeling okay.

Lando doesn’t even question the fact that Oscar was the one to take care of you- you suppose to him, it just makes sense. Teammates looking out for teammates, or in this case, their teammate’s friend. He just checks in on you, cleans up the last few tears from your face, and then suggests you stay the night. You don’t exactly want to go back downstairs and through the party, so you agree. You change into a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, though you keep Oscar’s sweatshirt and put it back on, too. Lando gives you the bed and pulls out the air mattress that he keeps on hand for this, and the two of you fall asleep to the sound of the bass shaking the walls of the house.

…..

The family dinner the next day is loosely breakfast themed. The guys are all dead in the morning, so you take it upon yourself to go do the shopping. And for that, you drag along your trusty assistant, Logan Sargeant. He’s one of few people on the team with his driver’s license, since so many of them are international students and never bothered getting one, and he has a car. Besides that, he’s a rookie, and he’s contractually obligated -meaning Max has politely asked him- to help you whenever you ask. He picks you up in his tiny Toyota, and then you’re off to the grocery store.

He carries the list while you stroll the aisles. “I’ve never heard of literally half the stuff on this list,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “That’s because you’re uncultured.”

You reach up on one of the shelves, snagging a jar with a yellow lid and label. He checks it off the list, brow furrowed.

“I thought this was breakfast for dinner night,” he adds, scrunching his nose up.

You turn to him, giving him an exasperated sigh. “It is. There’s just… a secondary theme. Don’t worry, my American boy, you’ll get your omelette.”

“Omelettes are French!” He cries out, huffing as you start to walk down the aisle, away from him. “The word is literally French!”

“Whatever you say, Miami,” you tease. “What’s next on the list?”

You buy Logan a coffee from a local place on your way back as a thank you for his help. In return, he tells you he forgives you for your comments about him being American. When you pull up to the house, you can see Lando and Charles in the living room. They come outside quickly, ready to help carry the bags in.

You head for the kitchen, one very specific bag in hand. When you walk in, you find Oscar, perched on a barstool, head pressed against his fist as his elbow rests on the counter. Max is on the phone in the dining area, chatting away loudly in another language. You can tell Oscar has a headache, just from the look on his face.

“You’re just the guy I was looking for,” you say, brightly but not too loud.

He blinks a couple times, then points at himself. “I’m an awful cook, if that’s what you’re implying.

You laugh and shake your head. “No, no- not that. But it’s breakfast night, right? So-“ you pull a jar of Vegemite out of the bag and set it down on the counter. “I got this. And then I went a little crazy in the international aisle of the grocery store. Oh, and I got sprinkles? The internet said something about fairy bread and I’m intrigued-“

You pause when he reaches for the jar, and his fingers brush yours. When you look up, there’s a look on his face you don’t quite recognize. It’s almost unbearably soft. You pull your hand out from under his so he can take the jar.

“You got Australian snacks,” he says, so quietly and almost reverently. “You…”

You shrug. “We talked about finding your place. One of the best ways I’ve found to do that is to tell people a little bit about yourself. It doesn’t have to be deep, could just be…”

He leans up and peeks in the bag, and his eyes go wide as he gasps, “TimTams!”

You laugh. “Yeah, could just be TimTams.”

He grins up at you, big and wide and so, so endeared. It’s a whole different side of him. You feel unbelievably proud of yourself for the idea.

Lando comes into the kitchen, hands full of bags. “Yeah, thanks, guys, we don’t need help.”

Charles is right behind him. “It’s fine, actually- hey, you bought Oscar cookies?”

Oscar hugs the package to his chest, suddenly possessive. You laugh and reach into one of the bags Lando is holding. In your hand is another package of TimTams.

“I got two of everything,” you tell Oscar. “To share and to keep.”

He smiles again, and lets the TimTams fall from his chest. “You all have to try one.”

Max gets off the phone and helps unpack things, setting out the stuff he’ll need for dinner tonight. You watch on with a fond smile as Oscar introduces all the snacks to anyone who’s willing to listen. Lando, Logan, and Charles sit with rapt attention as Oscar tells them childhood stories about all the snacks. Meanwhile, Max starts making pancake batter, and you start prepping the other ingredients.

Max elbows you lightly as the other guys laugh together. “You did good.”

You smile at him, shrugging. “We had a nice talk last night.”

Max cocks his head, smiling softly. “Before or after he tried to punch a guy out for you?”

Your face heats up at the comment, and you look away from Max and back to the food in front of you. “Last I remember, you had that guy pinned to the wall.”

Max makes a noncommittal noise. “I should’ve let Oscar punch him.”

You want to argue. To tell him that you’re not worth the trouble of that, and that he was right to tell Oscar to back off and send both of you away. But when you look up at him, the look on his face is a mixture of concern and determination. You blink, and he nudges his shoulder against yours.

“He deserved to be punched,” Max says, and you shrug. “And if you ever see him again, you call one of us. And maybe at the next party, you-“

“I’m fine,” you insist, picking up a plate and heading for the dining table. “Promise.”

More and more teammates file in, and now Lando’s the one forcing them to try TimTams, and encouraging Oscar to tell a story about being 5 and eating them in a pool, or something along those lines. You listen, even with your back turned, and hope that this helps Oscar feel a little bit more at home.

Later, after dinner, while everyone else is cleaning up, Oscar finds you in the living room. He holds out a plate. On top of it, laid out perfectly and carefully, are three TimTams.

“You didn’t try any earlier,” he says. He shifts on his feet when you take the plate. “I wanted to say thank you. Again.”

You smile up at him, laying your book on your chest. “Not a problem, Piastri. It was the least I could do, after you helped me last night.”

He frowns slightly, nose wrinkling up in mild disgust. “You know you don’t owe me for that, right?”

You nod as you pick up a TimTam off the plate. “But I can still say thank you. So. Thank you, again.”

He nods, and his face goes soft when you take a bite of the cookie and look up at him. It’s like he’s waiting with bated breath, desperate to know if you like them or not. You break out into a wide grin at the taste and nod eagerly up at him.

“Yeah, okay,” you say, eyeing the cookies on the plate. “I get the obsession.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement. One of your arms is resting on the back of the couch, and as if on reflex, he brushes his hand against yours. His skin is warm and soft. Your breath catches in your chest.

He backs away to disappear upstairs, then, with a soft “Goodnight,” that you echo, but not before you catch the tinge of red on his cheeks.

…..

In physics class on Monday, you watch Oscar waver in the doorway. He takes a stilted step towards the seat he normally sits in, across the lecture hall, and then he stops. You blink in confusion, taking a sip of coffee from your travel mug. He seems to take a breath, and then he turns- you pretend you’re not watching as he walks towards you instead. You pretend your heart isn’t racing as he walks up next to you. It shouldn’t be racing. Why is your heart racing?

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, politely, quietly, like it’s the first day of class.

You bite back a laugh when you look up at him, because his cheeks are red and he looks so, so proud of himself. “It’s open,” you say, smiling up at him.

He nods, sets his bag down on the desk, and then collapses into the chair next to you. He stares at your travel mug enviously as he slips his laptop from his bag, and you do laugh at that, at the tight furrow in his brow, at the pout on his lips. He glares at you, then, and then it all dissolves into a yawn. Something about it makes your chest ache- maybe it’s the way he pulls his hands into his hoodie sleeves. He looks like he could curl up right there and fall asleep.

“Early practice?” You ask, smiling sympathetically.

“So early,” he says, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I hate Seb.” Then he frowns, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. But I do love sleep.”

You laugh and elbow him lightly. “I’ll bring you coffee on Wednesday. As long as you make good on your promise to help me study for this exam.”

His eyes light up, and he elbows you back, smiling brightly. “Easy trade. We’re going to get you an A+.”

You roll your eyes. Before you can respond, the professor calls the class to order, and you both open your laptops. But Oscar’s there, and he’s agreed to help you study, and when you lose your place in the notes halfway through the lecture he helps you get back on track with a sweet smile. It definitely doesn’t make butterflies swirl in your stomach.

Two days later, you walk into the kitchen, paper bag in hand, and you’re greeted with bright smiles and eager hands. Lando grabs for the bag, and Alex isn’t far behind him. Even Max, who’s cooking something on the stovetop, seems to perk up.

“Hey, hey,” you scold, snatching the bag out of their reach. “Not for you.”

Lando furrows his brows. “You’re my best friend, you show up at my house, and you have food that’s not for me?”

You shrug. “It’s for my study group,” you explain, holding the bag high above your head as you walk towards the dining room.

Oscar pops his head through the doorway and smiles at you. He takes the bag from your hand. “Hi. Ready?”

Lando blinks at the two of you in bewilderment. “Um?”

“We’re gonna get an A+ in physics,” Oscar says to Lando, drumming his free hand on the doorframe.

You scoff. “I’m unsure if that’s possible, at this point. But I’m hoping to at least pass.”

You head for the dining table and sit down. Oscar already has all his study materials spread out, so you do the same. When you look up, Lando is having some sort of almost silent conversation with Oscar, talking in hushed tones and facial expressions that do very little to tell you what’s going on. You see Oscar shake his head, then nod, then shake his head again. Max is watching them, too, in amusement. You exchange a glance with the team captain, and he shrugs. His food is burning on the stove- you can smell it. Alex’s far too calm announcement of that fact breaks up whatever was happening between Oscar and Lando.

Oscar turns back to you, brows raised. “Ready?”

Behind him, Max opens the kitchen window and waves smoke out of it.

You nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You unpack Chinese takeout containers and dish out food on plates. Oscar’s teammates wander through occasionally, sticking their heads into the dining areas to say hi and ask how things are going, but for a while, it’s just the two of you. You find that Oscar’s a great study partner. He’s kind when you ask questions, willing to explain things in a way that you understand. And, when you get bored, you have him to look at. The serious look on his face, the little furrow in his brow, the soft curve of his lips when you answer a question correctly. He’s nice to look at, that’s all.

You walk home later that night feeling better about your odds on the physics exam, and better about the whole situation with Oscar. You think you might finally be winning him over. Halfway to your apartment, you pause on the sidewalk, overlooking the campus park. It would be shorter to just cut through the park. Take the more direct route. You study it for a few moments in the hazy blue post sunset light. Then you turn down the sidewalk and continue on your original route home.

Read Part 3, Losing The Dream!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @coolmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main

crossed out blogs are ones i was unable to tag!!

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legitalicat · 1 month

Text

Keeping Up With the Targaryens (social media AU) - Series Masterlist

AN: This is in collaboration with Lana ( @zaldritzosrose ) (and of course special shout outs to @lady-phasma @anjelicawrites and @alexagirlie) and we are so so excited! All posts related to this universe will be tagged in this Masterlist for y'all to easily browse! I hope you like it!! As always pairings and TW will be updated as the series progresses. Dividers used on this Masterlist and any future posts I make for this are done by Lana. header is also done by her :)

Summary: Inspired by Keeping Up With the Kardashians, a look into the insane lives of Westeros' most elite family. It all started years ago, when Rhaenyra Targaryen and Criston Cole were young and in love. Their actions changed the course for this family forever, good or bad. Now the world belongs to Rhaenyra, and the rest are just living in it.

Characters Featured: Rhaenyra Targaryen, Criston Cole, Otto Hightower, Viserys Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Jacaerys Velaryon, Harwin Strong, Lucerys Velaryon, Daemon Targaryen, Laena Velaryon, Sara Snow, Helaena Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen ii, Aemond Targaryen, YN/Reader insert, Daeron Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon

TW: Obvious but unconfirmed relationship, reality TV, Alicent will be great in this (minus one really bad incident), Otto Hightower is not shitty in this, will have time jumps, cursing, suggestive language, Viserys Targaryen (I feel like he should always be his own TW), men simping for their women

GEN 1 Pairings: PAST Rhaenyra Targaryen x Criston Cole, Laena Velaryon x Daemon Targaryen, Alicent Hightower x Viserys Targaryen, platonic spouses Rhaenyra Targaryen x Laenor Velaryon, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Harwin Strong

GEN 2 Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Snow, Aegon Targaryen ii x YN, Helaena Targaryen x Cregan Stark

Meet the Family (Gen 1) (Lana)

Meet the Family (Gen 2) (Lana)

Intro 1 Intro 2

Rhaenyra Through the Years

Alicent Through the Years 1, Alicent 2 (Lana)

Laena Through the Years, Laena 2 (Lana)

Age list!!

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

Episode 6

Episode 7

Episode 8

Episode 9

Episode 10

Episode 11

Episode 12

Episode 13

Episode 14

Episode 15

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onesidedradiostatic · 2 months

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Intro Post + FAQ!?!?!?

STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI!!!!!!!! (this is a joke)

I'm not replacing my pinned post because I like my pinned post. it's special to me. it describes my blog in a single gif. but I'll link this in my bio.

hi! I think this was long overdue. first of all, introduction!

I'm pink! she/her, 19, filipino-chinese, 🇸🇬

I am an asexual sapphic on the aro spectrum! I'm not repulsed in either department though, I consider myself mostly sex-neutral and romance... idk, ambivalent irl, favourable in fiction.

keep in mind that hazbin hotel itself has a lot of explicit humour, so canon-typical level of that kind of humour should be expected here. however, outside of text-only nsfw jokes, I typically don't post or reblog nsfw art (and IF I did, I would use community labels/appropriate tags). I may also tag certain text-only nsfw joke posts as #suggestive, just as a precaution.

and now the FAQ...

FAQ

Other than one-sided RadioStatic, what do you ship?

I've actually done this before, but decided I'd update it a bit.

cherrivel is only there because of the need for velvette to have someone at the hotel to be obsessed with, refer to this post. it is currently unserious and could easily never come up in my posts I just thought to include it because of that one time I brought it up. other crackships may come up if I find it funny (ie adam x mammon).

this shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, I do not like any reciprocated romantic alastor ships, I'm not here to police anyone for what they do in fanon, but all I ask is no one send me anything of the sort. I interpret alastor as a repulsed aroace, and the dialogue in which his asexuality is implied in canon implies to me he would never pursue dating (rosie knows alastor wouldn't be dating charlie because he is aroace, which implies she knows he is an aroace that doesn't date**). so that is how I choose to portray alastor in my posts.

**TO BE CLEAR, there IS nuance to this. because action =/= attraction. funny situations such as a fake date with vox as a distraction that he doesn't like at ALL entertain me. but I do not believe he is the type to pursue it under normal circumstances.

regarding qprs... well, as you can see, I really only care for qpr radiorose, but this is the part where it comes down to personal preference. qpr radiostatic largely depends for me, maybe if it's like an au where they never had a falling out or something but otherwise, I don't personally really see it, but that isn't to judge anyone who does. HOWEVER, I do like thinking about their past friendship, here's a post I made before regarding alastor's side on it.

Who's your favourite character?

unfortunately, it is the stupid tv man in my pfp. alastor is my second favourite though if that's not immediately obvious (wow tumblr user @onesidedradiostatic's faves are vox and alastor who could've guessed?)

Do you know [insert pre-series information here]?

I need to clarify, I am NOT a pre-series hazbin fan. I only got into hazbin properly at episode 5-6's release, prior to that I had only watched episode 4 out of curiosity due to twitter discourse. any information I have regarding pre-series stuff comes from the wiki, tumblr posts or anons who have informed me of stuff. my main source of information is the main series, that is how I first consumed hazbin after all.

What the fuck is the "Lucifer's Commissions Saga"?

it all started with an anon talking about the most unrealistic thing about vox owning an alastor body pillow being that alastor was able to be printed on it without glitches. I then dropped a stupid idea I had in my head for a bit about lucifer being offered 50k to make a sexy alastor painting for vox. one reblog later. well. it turned into vox commissioning lucifer for the body pillow. and then a bunch of asks came in related to it and it turned into a saga which is now my legacy. feel free to scroll through this entire thing. also a fanfic of it by ChaoticAce2005 now exists. go check it out. AN ANIMATIC BASED ON ONE OF THE POSTS BY NATAKARANIA ALSO NOW EXISTS. CHECK THAT OUT TOO.

The original post mentions Val commissioning Lucifer for the art for Vox, Val is canonically a talented artist, why would he do that?

in my defence, I kinda forgot about that when I posted the original joke. later asks, I've mended that val HAS drawn for vox before but vox nitpicked too much and val's not always willing to do a fully rendered sexy alastor... so vox has to outsource. and he just happens to do so to the king of hell.

Hey, hey, listen! What if Vox doesn't have a crush on Alastor but wants XXX instead!?

hey, I respect you! I respect your opinion and hc. but this blog is built around that concept specifically, I like vox wanting something he can never have, wanting romance from a guy who literally cannot feel the same way about him. so I'm probably not gonna be as passionate about other takes. but your opinion is valid! I'm just not really sure what you want me to say other than respectfully disagreeing.

Why don't you use RadioSilence for one-sided RadioStatic?

radio silence is the name of another book made by the author of heartstopper, alice oseman (which I heard also has a canon aspec character!). even though it is already a used tag for this ship, I refuse to contribute to flooding the book tag with hazbin hotel. it's already an issue I see even when searching #radio silence with the space, I think those in that fandom should be allowed to search for content without being flooded by content from another fandom. please understand.

I instead use #onewaybroadcast in accordance with this poll. I still use the regular #radiostatic and #staticradio tags in addition to it for more reach and because vox's side still technically counts under it, if anyone doesn't like specifically one-sided radiostatic for whatever reason, they may filter out the specific tag or block me.

Tags

#osrs.txt - all text posts, including asks #osrs.art - self-explanatory, art done by me #osrs.mp4 - videos which can range from compilations, shitpost edits to high effort edits #osrs.helluva - my helluva boss reactions/liveblogging and related stuff

#radiostatic parent trap subplot - the short series of asks joking about the torn picture vox has reminding them of the parent trap, turning into a crack subplot #projecting irl experiences onto radiostatic squad - where a bunch of anons came together to recount irl experiences with incels and say "yeah this is vox" #the ays - angel dust realising he and alastor are the reason for the vees' focus on the hotel and decides to brand both of them as the ays #lucifer's commissions saga - everyone's favourite as explained above, and also the biggest arc on this blog (my legacy) #alastor's modern sexuality label crisis - started with alastor misinterpreting "asexual" as asexual reproduction, continued on to him misinterpreting more modern sexuality labels #vox's stupid fucking turtleneck - it started with me trying to start up a debate on the colour of vox's turtleneck in the vox and val photo and escalated into people in my notes and askbox trying to gaslight me into thinking the turtleneck has stripes instead of it being a KNITTING PATTERN. this is what the STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI is referring to btw #cursed yellow val - tag name taken from andy-solo1, started as a response to the turtleneck discourse, I believe the turtleneck is a similar colour to val's wings therefore yellow turtleneck truthers are implying val's wings are also yellow #respectless anons - started with an anon trying to correct colour names and saying "not to be velvette..." and ended up with other anons being kin assigned characters #all the fucking parodies - there's been 2 parodies for you didn't know and 2 for respectless by others based on shit from this blog now, this tag is needed #the fanon val killjoy beef - tag made for the made up concept of valentino and katie killjoy beefing, started from this post

#osrs.intro

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concreteburialplot · 8 months

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Intertwined // 03

03 - when the party’s over

pairing: noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 5.6k

warnings; alcohol, frat house parties, angst, frat!folio/frat!miserable bryan, inaccurate depictions of college experiences lmao, slight panic attack/ [nonsexual] overstimulation, frat hazing, drowning? but it’s kinda funny, confused jealous sad nicholas, awkward noah trying to rizz, folio has a silly nickname, crying, fighting, lots of internal dialogue, etc, 18+ MDNI

reminder; this is AU, nothing is meant to be accurate or realistic, including family members/names

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

NICHOLAS

In the bathroom across the hall, Noah messes with the pieces of his flippy hair that poke out and around his beanie.

In my room, I switch out the jewelry in my gauged ears and smooth out the short-sleeve button up shirt I chose.

The air between us had been somewhat distant and weird for the past 2 weeks since our… mutual activities. Though, I could tell that he was ready to go back to normal, which I do too.

It must just be harder for me to get past it, I guess.

We aren’t even out the door yet and I already regret agreeing to this stupid ass frat party.

He steps into the doorway and leans against the frame. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“I just gotta brush my hair and then we can go.” I say, still turned away from him.

“Cool…” He trails off, “I’m just gonna chill in the living room.” He thumbs over his shoulder.

“Okay. Sounds good.” I reply instantly, almost before he’s even done talking.

Once I’ve quickly brushed through my shoulder length hair, I grab my keys from the wooden hooks near the front door. “Alright I’m ready to–”

My eyes land on Noah, who’s wearing a black sleeveless muscle tee-like shirt and tight jeans. I’ve seen him in similar outfits a million times before but for some reason right now he looks so different.

“You good?” He chuckles and shoves his phone in his back pocket.

I shake my head from whatever fog is lingering there. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I must’ve just dissociated there for a sec.” Followed with a fake laugh.

When we pull up to the frat house, it’s packed with cars practically stacked on top of each other. Thankfully I find a spot not too far and claim it as my own.

As Noah and I walk up, I’m in absolute awe. I’ve only driven past this house; I’ve never been this close to it. It’s one of the various neighboring fraternities and sororities that border a huge lake. I can see the lake peeking out from behind the house and it makes me wonder what it’s like during the warmer months. A rush of cold fall wind reminds me that summer break is actually over. I stuff my hands into my jeans and continue towards the entrance.

The house itself is beautiful, it’s massive, white with columns and giant black Greek letters just below the roof. Colorful lights flash through the windows and follow the beat of thumping house music. People pour in and out of the front door and from around the backyard.

Everything about it screams college. It’s exactly what Noah wanted. It’s exactly what Folio wanted. But I hate it already and we haven’t even stepped foot in there.

We step up to the front door that’s being guarded by two muscular men who look like if they flicked us, we’d fall over. They very dramatically step together blocking the entrance. “Who invited you?” They ask sternly.

My heart rate immediately spikes from the interaction. I grab the hem of Noah’s shirt discreetly and tug at it to pull him away, but he surprises me.

“Folio.” He speaks up with the most obvious forced confidence and straightens out his back, pushing his chest out a bit.

Their serious faces break into hearty laughs. The one on the left leans back to see past the right one, “Trout! Your invites are here!”

Noah and I look at each other with stitched mouths not wanting to burst out laughing at Folio’s new nickname. Fishing is about 75% of what comes out of his mouth, it’s no surprise his new roommates have already heard all about it. The other 25% is dedicated to girls, weed, drums, and bikes, naturally. I am sure he’s stoked about the lake that’s quite literally in his backyard for him to fish from any time he wants.

Nick rips through the crowd and he looks… well just like a freshman in a fraternity. He’s wearing some ridiculous helmet with beer cans attached to the sides and a tube to drink from. His tank top is neon green plastered with frat symbols across his chest. The smile on his face is the biggest I’ve ever seen it, even bigger than when he somehow managed to get a 73% on his final where he blindly guessed on every question.

“Yesss! My bros!” He yells excitedly and pummels us in a giant hug. It’s only then that I realize he’s completely soaked in sticky beer.

“Ew, Folio.” I scrunch my face in disgust and peel myself away from him.

Noah just laughs, even though I know the beer on his clean clothes is driving him mad.

“Oh, don’t be a downer Ruffilo.” His words already strung together gives away how drunk he already is.

I pull my phone from my back pocket to check the time. “Nick it’s only 9, how much have you drank already?” I ask loudly over the music.

“It’s part of the like,” He lets out a slurred burp, “The initiation, or whatever. Freshmen have to drink a certain amount. And… I did.” He drunkenly chuckles. Folio never drank much before this and if he did, he was always a lightweight. If he really did drink that much, it’s a miracle he’s even talking somewhat coherently right now.

“Well you really should’ve paced yourself–“ I begin but he cuts me off.

He rolls his eyes. “I should’ve known you’d be like this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” My brows furrow defensively.

“I would’ve had Noah leave you at home if I knew you’d be like this.”

I know he’s joking but it doesn’t make the tightness in my chest any less.

“C’mon Nicholas,” Noah grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake. “Loosen up!”

I hate everything about this. It’s so confusing to see Noah this way, he was never like this before. Parties were his worst nightmare – until now apparently.

“Yeah, you guys need to catch up to me! Maybe you’ll have more fun!” Folio gestures for us to follow him to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, there’s a couple frat guys playing bartender, one I recognize to be Bryan, Folio’s mentor.

“Bryan!” Nick runs up to him like a child asking for a toy. “My friends are here and they wanna get just as drunk as meee.”

The dark under eye bags on Bryan are borderline comical. The look in his eyes reminds me of the look that middle aged underpaid cashiers give you when you ask if you can use a coupon. He says nothing and mixes up a concoction that looks like battery acid.

“Here.” He slides two radioactive drinks towards us over a marble countertop. “That should get you pretty fucked up quick.” Then goes off taking orders from other people.

I dip close to Folio’s side, “Why does it look like he works here?”

“The sophomores have to ‘work the party’.” Nick hiccups, “So they stationed him there.”

“Oh.” Noah and I mouth in unison.

“It’s part of the initiation.” He repeats proudly, as if being indoctrinated into some sort of academic cult is something to be so proud of.

I take the time to actually look over the party – it’s packed to the brim. There’s every single kind of college student you could think of, even kids that seem “nerdier” than me and Noah.

Rockstar by Post Malone began blasting through the speakers and a grin instantly spreads over my mouth. A couple summers ago Rockstar was me and Noah’s song, we would blare it on repeat in my shitty car almost every day. We played it so much we got sick of it, and this was the first time I’ve heard it since then. I turn excitedly to Noah but find that he’s gone. I look around where I’m standing, suddenly feeling exposed. Everyone surrounding me is preoccupied one way or another, including Folio which I’ve just realized disappeared too.

Directly in front of me stands the only other person I even marginally know at this party.

I lean across the counter and tap at Bryan’s tattooed forearm. He looks at me and it’s different than he does when I’m with Folio. Thankfully, it’s a lot kinder.

“What’s up?” He asks over the music, leaning closer to me with his ear first.

“Did you see where Noah went?” I nearly shout at him.

He nods over to the couch across the room where Noah is sat talking to a group of what looks like sorority girls – no worse, wannabe sorority girls.

“Trout introduced them.”

What a comically horrible nickname.

My lips fall to a frown, and it feels like my heart has dropped into my stomach. I watch as one bottle blonde traces her fingertips over a tattoo on his arm that I did – the first tattoo I’ve ever done on somebody else and the first tattoo he ever got. For some reason, the sight of it makes me feel sick, like I could throw up right where I stand.

When my gaze finally reaches back to Bryan, he’s ready to tell me the answer to a question I haven’t asked.

“I don’t know where Folio went.”

“Great.” I nod and push away from the counter. “Just…great.”

I figured that we’d come here for a bit for Nick then leave. I didn’t expect us to actually interact – which seems naïve to think about now. Noah practically begged me to come with him to this incredibly obnoxious party, of course he’d wanna stay and participate.

I deflate, grab my cup of toxic chemicals and reluctantly walk over to Noah. I nudge his arm and when he turns, he looks surprised to see me, like he forgot I was here.

“Oh, hey I was just about to find you.” He slurs and throws an arm over my shoulders. “This is Kassidy.” He gestures to the small blonde girl he’s been talking to then gestures to another very similar looking girl. “And this,” He gives me a discreet extra nudge. “is Brooke.”

The girls give me over enthusiastic smiles and I give them a half-wave because that’s all I have left to offer. “Hey.”

“Whatever Bryan made us, is fuckin’ workin’.” He knocks back the rest of his drink. “Do you mind asking him for another for me?”

My brows raise involuntarily at his demand like I’m some butler.

“Here take mine.” I grumble and drop my full solo cup into his empty one.

“You didn’t like it?” He doesn’t wait to already take a sip.

“No.”

“I’m sure they have beer or something else-“

“I’m good. I have to drive your ass home anyway.” I snap and walk past him through the path between the couch and the coffee table. I plop right next to Brooke because I know that’s what Noah was trying to orchestrate, and where else would I go.

Brooke is blonde with what I assume are hair extensions poorly placed over her scalp. Her lips are overly full, like she drew around her lips with a lead pencil. Her exposed cleavage from a lowcut crop top would normally entice me, if she wasn’t so…her.

She tried talking to me, but I must’ve been too boring since she just hung onto every word Noah said instead. When Kassidy and Noah started making out was when she finally left and went to find new prey.

I’m stuck on the opposite side of the couch watching my best friend get his face eaten off by someone who doesn’t even know how to brush her hair properly. It’s been about an hour and a half since we got here, and it’s the exact opposite of “fun”. Maybe it’s because I’m not drinking that I don’t understand the appeal.

Noah or not, I’d rather be home playing Pokémon or Call of Duty or literally anything other than this. Between the blaring music and the belligerent people, the thumping in my chest returns. I run my hands up and down my thighs slowly in an attempt to calm down but the faster my heart races the quicker my hands go. The air seems to be thinning around me and the crowded people feel closer than before. But then when I look over and see Noah kissing Kassidy, I’m suddenly furious.

I’m not sure why I’m furious, maybe it’s because he dragged me here, or because he ditched me after dragging me here, or because both of my supposed best friends ditched me after dragging me to a place I didn’t want to be to begin with.

It’s anger and anger alone that forces me from my seat and quickly past by Noah, knocking his shoulder back abruptly. It’s clear that he doesn’t even fucking care that I’m here or that I’m miserable.

I brush past various sweaty party goers, hitting each shoulder on my way.

“Nick!” I hear a drunken Noah calling after me. He’s gaining on me quickly as his thin body easily passes through the crowd.

“I’m going home Noah.” I yell over my shoulder as I stomp through the crowd.

“What! Why!”

“Because I want to go fucking home.” I turn a corner I think might be an exit, but it turns out to just be another hallway in this massive fucking house.

“C’mooon Nicholaaas.” Noah drags out the words in the most annoying whine. The alcohol is blatantly tinging each word.

“I’m not talking to you when you’re like this.” I shout back harshly through gritted teeth.

I push on a door that I thought was a bathroom just to get away from him, but I stumble into what looks like a movie room. The room is dark with just a flat screen on the wall playing some random Netflix movie and a large couch.

Of course, only in a frat house would they have a dedicated Netflix and Chill room.

Noah staggers in behind me and takes in the room just as I do. He pushes past me, slams the door shut and locks it.

He crosses his arms, “Now you can’t leave.”

I sigh, extremely irritated. “Oh, I’m leaving.” I go to move past him to get to the door, but he steps over and blocks me.

My heart is racing so fast it’s really all I can think about. Everything is too much for me; the earsplitting music, my fuming anger, Noah, how dark the room is, the heavy brick sitting on my chest, how warm the house is, the fucking stupid movie on the tv, all of it is making me lose my fucking mind. My skin’s crawling just being here, everything in me just wants to book it out the front door. I can barely fucking breathe.

All I want to do is leave.

I need to fucking leave.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asks and his tone has a hint of sadness that suddenly makes me feel guilty for wanting to leave.

“Because I’m not having a good fucking time Noah. I want to go home. One of these girly bitches you’re talking to can take you home. Or you can get an Uber, I really don’t care. But I. am. leaving.” I say sternly to his face, my hands fisted at my sides.

Confusion washes over him, as if he hadn’t realized I wasn’t enjoying myself until just now. The confusion only angers me more because if he had even paid a single ounce of attention, he would’ve known I wasn’t having a good time.

He always knows when I’m not having a good time. I don’t know how he knows but usually I can just look at him and he’d just know.

Until now, apparently.

“Oh.” The edges of his mouth wilt downwards. “I just figured you’d hit it off with whats-her-name and…”

“Well, I didn’t. And I want to get the fuck out of here.” I cross my arms over my chest, using my heel to scuff at my opposite shoe.

Noah’s eyes divert to any place other than me in the room and shift back and forth on the balls of his feet. His fingertips fidget with his knuckles as the silence between us grows louder than the music outside.

“I don’t want to go home yet.”

The words feel just like a dagger straight through my chest, piercing my lungs and deflating me completely. I literally just told him I was leaving without him but for some reason hearing him say it aloud is more painful.

“Okay…” I can’t help the way my eyes drop to the ground. “Well, you can stay here then, I guess.”

“I mean if that’s-” Noah stops mid-sentence to pause and tilt his ear to the party noises behind the door. “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah, it’s just party shit.” I wave him off quickly so I can get out sooner.

His brows scrunch up trying to focus harder, “No, No, listen.”

It takes a bit but then I hear it too. “It sounds like chanting? What are they chanting?”

Noah leans towards the door and carefully cracks the door just a smidge in order to hear the crowd better.

“Are they chanting…”

“Trout.” We say in unison and look at each other with widening eyes.

It’s not unlike Folio to get into some sort of competition but this just doesn’t sound right.

“What the fuck?” I crack the door open further and watch as the entirety of the party makes its way through the back door.

We make it out of the room and follow the crowd into the backyard. Noah notices it before I do and grabs my arm, his eyes round and glued on the crowd.

“Oh no.”

“What? I don’t see-” Then I do. “Oh no.”

An extremely drunk Folio being carried over to the lake, frigid in the autumn cold.

“Well, I mean, it’s just a lake, right? It’s probably just part of the initiation shit.” I speculate, annoyed that I have to babysit not one but two of my friends at this party.

“No, no, you don’t understand, we have to stop them.” Noah says urgently. He grabs my hand and starts running towards the dock.

“Stop! Stop!” He yells though his voice isn’t strong enough to reach.

“Wait why!” I call after him, his longer legs crossing the vast backyard faster than I can keep up. My feet crunch various red solo cups that just thrown across the grass. “It’s just water, he’ll be fine.”

“Stop!” He halts where the lake meets the land, and his eyes don’t leave Folio for one second.

“No, no, no.” He mutters between us.

I’m so out of breath I can’t even ask any further questions and double over just to breathe holding onto my knees. When I finally catch my breath and look back up to Noah, he’s shedding his clothes. He yanks off each of his Vans, tossing them into the grass.

“Hey whoa! What are you doing? You can’t go in there!” I stand there useless with the vague feeling of needing to copy his actions. “What’s wrong Noah, can you fucking talk to me?”

“He doesn’t know how to swim Nicholas! We have to get him.” His skinny jeans are already halfway off of him.

“What! What the fuck do you mean he can’t swim?” I hastily slip off my own shoes and begin unbuttoning my shirt. “All he fucking talks about is fishing. What kind of fisherman doesn’t know how to swim!”

“I don’t know, he’s a fucking idiot!” He’s at the edge, waving his arms and whistling but the roar of the crowd drowns him out “But he’s definitely not gonna be able to swim with how drunk he is. Hurry up!”

“I’m fucking going as fast as I can!”

I regret everything about this night.

I’m never going to another party ever again.

As if in slow motion Folio gets thrown in the water with the dock full of people calling out his stupid fucking nickname. Knowing him, he probably had no idea what was going on until he was midair. He lands into the cold water and the party carelessly makes its way back to the house.

We try getting their attention but they’re all so fucked up that not a single one listens. It’s completely still where he was dropped before a struggle erupts with flailing arms and splashing.

“I’m going.” Noah states urgently, regardless of how quickly I can get these tight pants off my legs. He runs in then jumps into full strokes towards Nick.

Once I’m down to my underwear, I follow Noah. I brace myself for the water and it’s even worse than expected. I hiss at the cold but hurriedly begin swimming after Noah. The water is green and murky and all I feel are long, slimy tendrils of seaweed tangling around my legs. I struggle to make it through without getting lake water in my mouth or my eyes but it's pointless.

Noah finally reaches Folio and even from the far distance I’m at, it doesn’t look good. Nick is heavier and stockier than Noah, and Noah can barely lift a gallon of milk. I’m not quite sure what he was thinking, maybe he was relying on some crazy adrenaline strength.

Noah’s got him but he’s a heavy, thrashing, coughing weight in his arms.

“God fucking damnit.” I mutter and push myself to swim even faster. “Is he good?” I yell from yards away.

“No! I need your help, Nicholas!” Noah’s voice is slurred, strained and breathless. That’s when I realize that I’m supposed to be the sober backbone of this operation.

When I reach them, Noah is just barely keeping Folio’s head above water. I assess the surroundings and decide getting him up on the dock would be the quickest option.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.” I say, manhandling Folio from Noah. “You’re gonna get up on the dock and I’m gonna try to lift him up to you and then you can pull him up. Got it?”

“Got it.” He nods and swims over the ladder, climbs up and kneels at the edge. “Okay, ready.”

With every bit of strength in my body, I swim both of us over and lift Folio up towards Noah. He hooks his arms under his armpits and by some miracle gets him up on the dock.

I cling to the metal ladder letting myself take a breath for a brief second. When I finally get up to the platform, Folio is on his side violently coughing, desperately trying to get out any water.

Once his hacking calmed down, he wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his hand and squints at us. “What the fuck happened?”

“You were drowning dumbass.” I snap with an eye roll crossing my cold, wet arms over my freezing chest. “Your ‘frat bros’ threw you into the lake.”

I’m suddenly very aware that I’m nearly naked on this dock and while it’s just the two of them, I still feel extremely exposed. I’m not fond of even having my shirt off on a beach day, nonetheless a dip in a frigid lake with a whole house full of strangers just a couple of feet away.

Noah rests back on his folded legs and places his hands on his boney knees.

“Are you okay?” His voice is light, soft, and airy. “We were really worried about you.”

Noah is gentle with Folio even though we just dove into freezing water for him. He’s kind and concerned and it’s the Noah I’m used to. Seeing him this way again swirls a flutter in my chest. I can’t tell if that’s happened before or if it’s new. Maybe it’s something that’s always happened, and I just hadn’t noticed until now? It feels both comforting and extremely daunting.

Maybe it’s just my body trying to heat itself up.

Folio continues to hack several dry coughs but ultimately nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I think.”

I can tell he’s still wasted and frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t just throw up Bryan’s mystery concoction when he was coughing up water.

“Okay can we go put our clothes back on now? I’m fucking freezing.” My teeth chatter as a cold gust of wind washes over my body.

We quickly ran over to the shore to put our mostly dry clothes back on, then came back to Folio on the dock. Noah got him to his feet and had him hold onto our shoulders so we could steady him back inside.

The party hollers as we make our way through with a cold and shivering Nick. It strikes an anger right through my spine. It’s a rage I don’t think I’ve ever felt in my life but it’s spreading through me like a bad infection.

I’m in a room of people ridiculing my friend who just almost drowned.

The same people who almost caused it.

And he still wants to be here.

These are the people he wants to be with.

These are the people Noah wanted so badly to come here for.

Folio guides us up the rounded staircase to his room. Since the house is so big and the frat is so exclusive, each member gets their own room. So, luckily for him, nobody else has to see this.

I drop his arm abruptly once inside but he’s too drunk to even notice. He sloppily rustles through his drawers to find clothes to take for a lake-cleansing shower.

“Well, if you’re going to take 5 million years to find a shirt, I’m just gonna dip.” I say more aggressively than intended.

Or maybe it was intended.

They both look at me with confused, furrowed brows.

“Whoa,” Nick slurs, “What fucking crawled up your ass?”

“Fucking nothing, I just want to fucking leave. I’ve been trying to fucking leave for the past hour.”

Noah looks more confused than him, if I wasn’t so angry, I’d even call it concerned.

“You weren’t having fun?”

“Oh my god, I already fucking told you I wasn’t having fun. If you had just been a half-decent friend for two seconds tonight, you might’ve seen that I was not having fun at all.”

My patience had long left me.

“Oh so, I’m a bad friend now?” Noah raises a brow and takes an offended step back.

A frustrated groan escapes my lips, “I just don’t understand why you both want to be here with these people.” I point in the direction of the party. “Those are who did that to you Folio. And you still wanna party with them?”

Nick looks at me like I have two heads.

“Yes? I’m part of this fraternity Ruffilo. This is like… my purpose or whatever.” He says, stringing along his words like they have long pauses between.

My eyes couldn’t roll hard enough. That was quite possibly the most frat-boy thing I’ve ever heard. Maybe this is the right place for him.

“Your ‘purpose’? Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?”

“They weren’t all bad…” Noah trails off while he scratches his arm, and his eyes fall to the ground.

“Oh who? Those whores you were talking to?”

A quiet hush falls across the dimly lit room and Noah’s face looks distraught, his eyes fluttering back down to the carpeted floor.

“What is your fucking problem, Nick?” Folio breaks the silence. He’s still shivering, dripping water everywhere, and holding a pile of sweats to change into after his shower.

“If you didn’t wanna fucking be here, you shouldn’t have come.” He pushes past both of us and exits the room.

Noah’s brown eyes land back on me once we’re alone. There’s a sadness to them that I can’t decipher.

“Well, this is what you wanted isn’t it?” I question facetiously and spread my arms out grandiosely. “This big college experience?”

He blinks at me blankly. “Why are you being like this Nicholas?” He asks softly and it twists some invisible knife in my gut.

“Being like what? You dragged me here!” I drop my arms harshly back to my sides.

“Yeah, I thought you’d have fun.” He scratches his arm anxiously.

“What’s fun about sitting around watching you hook up with dumb sorority bitches?”

The words surprise me the minute they leave my mouth. I don’t even know exactly what they’re supposed to mean and I sure as hell don’t want to unpack it right now.

His brows curve up where they start and knit together. He notices the odd verbiage too.

Fuck.

“Is this because we-“ He begins but my accelerating heart rate can’t bear to even entertain what was about to come out of his mouth. Nor can I bear to hear it.

I can’t hear him say what we did together that morning those weeks ago. I’ve been trying to convince myself that it was just a dream - even though my mind hasn’t been able to let me forget it, nor has it stopped me from wishing it would happen again.

But I can’t hear him say it. That would make it real. And I so desperately want it to not be real.

“You know what?” I suck my teeth. “I’m done. I’m fucking over this. I’m actually leaving now.” I march over to the open doorframe and turn back to him once more.

His hand moves up and down his arm repeatedly as if he’s trying to self-soothe.

“Okay.” He replies quietly and finally looks up at me from where his eyes were locked on the floor. “I guess um. I guess I’m gonna stay and make sure Folio is all right.” He thumbs over his shoulder towards the bathroom. “I doubt anyone’s sober to drive so, I’ll just stay here tonight.”

It feels as though my ribs caved in on my chest; sharp boney splinters piercing the organs they house.

I guess a part of me wanted him to beg me to stay.

But he didn’t.

“Okay.” I nod and head out of the horrendous frat house.

I fight the lump in my throat and the burning in my eyes all the way down the grandiose stairs, through the bustling crowd, down the front steps, over the green lawn, through all the parked cars, until the door slams behind me in my own car. All at once it hits me and the tears unleash. I cross my arms over my steering wheel pressing my crying eyes against them, heaving my sobs against them.

“Fuck!” I scream within the small confines of my car.

I’m crying and frustrated and angry all at the same time. I don’t even really know what I’m upset about. All I know is that my chest aches in a way it never has before, which frustrates me even more. The feeling reminds me of when you’ve been doing math for an hour but no matter how many times you try, you just don’t fucking understand it.

I just didn’t want to party, why am I fucking crying?

Why do I fucking care if my friends are staying and I’m going home?

I try to calm down before leaving but the tears keep pouring out of me. Everything’s blurry on the drive home and I’m grateful I didn’t take a sip of alcohol.

When I arrive home, the house is quiet. Every light is flipped off and there’s not even water droplet of noise. My mom is at her night shift at the hospital and my sister, Stella, is at a sleepover. Whenever I feel like this, I always go sit on one of their beds and talk to them. They always make me feel better even when there’s not much to say. Even though Stella is younger than me, she somehow always knows what to say. In a lot of ways, she’s smarter than I ever will be.

I don’t bother turning on a light and shuffle off my shoes at the door. I circle to the kitchen. When I open the fridge for a water, the light burns my already raw eyes. I take the cold bottle and press it on my under-eye bags then practically slam the fridge door closed. The cold plastic helps soothe some of the swelling.

I scuffle across the hall to my room and the minute the door clicks in place behind me, I let out a deep sigh. I feel water threatening to prickle into my eyes again, but my head is pounding and I’m so fucking sick of crying. I shed all my clothes since they faintly smell like lake and alcohol, and even though I should shower to wash off nasty lake residue, I just can’t walk out the door again. My chest aches too much for me to leave this room.

So, I slip on new boxers and a random Star Wars shirt and get into bed. I slip in from the right side and it immediately feels wrong.

And it sinks in.

My bed is not my own anymore.

It is half mine.

Half Noah’s.

I scooch back onto the left and try to sleep but I toss and turn for an hour and a half. My mind is racing, and it is only filled with Noah. Stuff that shouldn’t even matter.

Is he okay?

Is he still drinking?

Where is he sleeping?

Is he with her?

Does he wish I stayed?

Does he regret not leaving with me?

Does he want to come home?

Is he going to try to get a ride home? Would it be safe?

Did I overreact?

I should’ve stayed to help Folio sober up.

I should’ve just gotten drunk.

Maybe I could’ve had fun if I drank.

I wouldn’t be so upset if I had just drank, right?

I’m only upset because I wasn’t having a good time, right?

Maybe my two best friends wouldn’t fucking hate me right now if I just pretended to have fun.

Is this just what it is now?

Am I going to get dragged to a party every weekend and have to pretend to enjoy it?

Will I lose them if I don’t?

I flip on my side, facing the door and my back to the window. Between me and the door there’s the vast emptiness of Noah’s spot.

The bed feels so… empty without him in it.

I tug the comforter close around me as I’m suddenly aware of the low temperature in the room.

I hadn’t realized just how accustomed I’ve gotten to him being here in the short amount of time been moved in.

It’s nice having someone take up space next to me in bed.

It’s nice having warmth where there used to be none.

It’s nice laughing until my stomach hurts before bed every night.

It’s nice having someone to shut off the lamp when I’m already half asleep.

It’s nice not being alone.

I like not being alone.

I like not being alone with him.

And I don’t know what to do with that feeling.

Next Chapter -> 04 - Snapped Neck

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @cryingabtab @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

a/n; Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks, they really validate and fuel me lol. Even though I'm not the best at replying 😅 but i am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

I hope you guys like this one, please lmk if you do💘

#noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #noah x nick #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #intertwined series #concreteburialplot works #nicholas ruffilo rpf #noah sebastian rpf

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dexysmr · 9 months

Text

dissonance [bakugou katsuki x reader]

ch. 1: intro

summary: When Jirou asks you to be her band’s lead guitarist, you have no reason to refuse. That is, until you meet the hot-tempered, foul-mouthed blond on drums.

tags: enemies to lovers, college band au, drummer! bakugou, afab reader, no fem pronouns

notes: more parts to come! i have a soft spot for my hc of bakugou as a grumpy asshole drummer

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | more to come!

In the end you have no one to blame but yourself for this mess.

Forehead pressed to the cold laminate bathroom stall door, you twist the situation this way and that in your head, but no matter how you looked at it it all came back to you saying yes. In your defense, you hadn’t known a few weeks ago that agreeing to be lead guitarist in Jirou’s band would lead to spending an unprecedented amount of time every week hiding in the bathroom.

No, not hiding. You refused to admit that you were avoiding him because of some personal weakness. It was more like taking a smoke break, except that your particular vice was muttering profanities under your breath, imagining directing them at a certain prickly blond dickhead.

“Fuck!” You thunk your head against the door for good measure, and the flimsy stall frame rattles. Shitty bathroom infrastructure was one constant you could always count on, from your dime-a-dozen high school to even as prestigious an institution as UA.

Deep breaths, in and out. You stand up straight and study the familiar graffiti etched in front of you (a rather diverse selection of genitalia), already feeling much better. You’re strong, and more importantly, you’re a better person than Bakugou Katsuki. You have to be.

Or else he wins.

-Three weeks earlier-

“Why me?”

Jirou taps a finger along the rim of her mug, watching the steam rising from her coffee with the disinterested languor of a cat. When you ask the question, though, her eyes focus on you with a startling sharpness, something like surprise in the upwards flick of her eyebrows.

“Because you can play guitar,” she intones like it’s the most obvious conclusion in the world, “and because, I dunno, you’ve been dying to start a band since we were kids?”

“I know that,” you sigh, exasperated. “I just meant, why me on lead? Kaminari’s just as good—probably better, now, ‘cause I haven’t played since we started college.”

People are only just starting to trickle into the dining hall, a sight which you’ve almost never seen since you are decidedly not a morning person. All your classes are scheduled for around noon or later, and not even Professor Aizawa’s infamous death glare could rouse you from morning brain fog. Today, Jirou had to physically drag you from bed to get you up this early. You curse her well-adjusted sleep schedule and take a gulp of your coffee as Jirou scoffs.

“Kaminari’s got worse stage fright than a kindergartener. Besides, he’s more than happy to be on rhythm guitar.”

At this, you have to agree. Last semester’s uneventful Victorian Lit seminar had culminated with final presentations. When it came to Kaminari’s turn, he had stood mutely at the front of the class and stared at his notecards with a dumbfounded expression for six whole minutes before the professor awkwardly let him sit back down. Jirou never let him live it down, and you’re not even sure how he ended up passing the class.

“I’ll only be free on weekends,” you start, and watch as Jirou’s indifferent expression shifts minutely. You can read her like a book after nearly a decade of friendship, and you know she always plays up the nonchalance the most when there’s something she really cares about.

“We were gonna do Saturday nights, anyway.”

You sigh with exaggerated reluctance, but Jirou’s already broken into a wide grin. After all, she knows you just as well as you do her. The begrudging front you put up always has a weak spot for Jirou. And that dream of starting a band really did still spark something warm and exciting in you.

“Just don’t blame me if it takes a while for me to remember all the chords,” you warn, but it’s a half-hearted jab. Your fingers are already itching to start practicing again. “And, I want a say in our band name.”

Jirou clasps your hands in hers and leans across the table, knocking her mug precariously close to the table ledge. Her eyes are wide with faux solemnity, and you’re reminded an awful lot of Midoriya. “I would never dream otherwise,” she says, and then cracks another smile. “We’re totally gonna win the school festival this year!”

It’s not until you’re getting ready to part ways—her to morning lecture, you back to bed—that you remember to ask.

“Wait, who’s on drums?”

Another thing growing up together has taught you: Jirou’s a bad fucking liar. She avoids your gaze and fumbles with her tangled earbuds, and you can’t tell if it’s anticipation or dread that settles into your stomach. “Uh, we haven’t found someone yet,” she says, ignoring your disbelieving look. “Oh, huh- class is starting soon, see ya!”

She skedaddles down the hallway and out of sight. You stare after her with half a mind to chase her down, but your lethargy wins over any curiosity and you turn back towards the dorms, intent to steal another hour or two before your first class.

You go through the rest of the week with a bad feeling about why Jirou wouldn’t tell you who the fourth member of the band was going to be. Could it be Minoru? Jirou knows you despised him—well, who doesn’t—but surely he was too short to even reach the pedals.

Come Saturday night, you are still no closer to solving the mystery. You can’t think of anyone who could both (1) be a good enough drummer and (2) have a character flaw disagreeable enough that Jirou would be reluctant to reveal their name. Maybe she had been telling the truth, and they would have to hold auditions this week. Either way, you would find out soon.

The second floor of the music department is almost empty, save for whichever diligent souls want to practice this late on the weekend. You switch your guitar to your left hand, double-checking the room number Jirou had texted you yesterday. Walking down the hall, you can already start to hear the sound of Jirou warming up on bass, along with someone practicing a rather fantastic drum solo. Your trepidation is quickly suppressed with excitement, and you push the door open, ready to meet your very own Ringo Starr…

Only to stumble back, shoulder clipping the door frame in shock. Suddenly, her reticence that morning clicks into place. There’s only one person she knows you can’t stand, although you never knew he could play drums.

Bakugou Katsuki’s gaze immediately latches onto you with a glare you can almost feel the heat of across the room. For the first time in your life, you find yourself sharing the same thought as Bakugou, although he beats you to verbalizing it.

“It’s fucking you!?”

masterlist

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction

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sourbinnie · 11 months

Text

♕ cicuta.mp3 ♕

-> genre : non!idol au | angst | smut | fluff | all of it one bowl

-> pair : ot8!skz x fem!reader

-> warnings : this teaser contains mentions of smoking, swearing and cheating (mentioned).

-> plot : so how did you end up surrounded by the biggest rappers from the underground seoul scene? your brother was making it big (even if your parents didn't believe that was a real job) and you decided to join him at one of the finals to see him. let's say that's where it all went downhill…

-> appeareances from other idols, stay tuned!

a/n -> dude first fanfic ever in kpop world. i'm gonna try to update it whenever i can but i feel like i'm gonna be writing often since i'm putting my heart and soul on this one, might be a bit weird, a lil too explicit at times and a lil messed up but it's my baby.

✘ intros ✘

♕ bangchan ♕

chan got into freestyle and battles when he was 14. he always found it his safe space to go to the park with friends and engage in it. now many years later he still is fond of competitions and likes to participate whenever a global event takes place, he easily became a pro and one of the most known rappers in the scene. he knows he changed, knows that his face tats and his sleeves aren't really who he was when he started. but he likes the new him, likes how it makes him feel and what it shows.

✘ 1997

✘ sydney

✘ 7 wins (2 international)

♕ k-now ♕

minho didn't know how he fell in love with the scene, he just did. he wasn't that much into rap but after seeing so many battles, he started composing his lyrics and his need to be in competitions grew. at first he stumbled, he got made fun of but that only made him want to participate more. with time he got better and eventually as the man he stood today, he had 4 official wins in korea. his next goal was to make it through the international wave and he was so ready.

✘ 1998

✘ gimpo

✘ 4 wins

♕ changbin ♕

changbin is probably the biggest name you could hear. he grew from the underground scene all the way to the top, being the korean artist with the most international wins. he didn't think much of it though, he was a down to earth man who just enjoyed rapping and if he happened to win, he just accepted it. the public would be surprised if he didn't win but he would just accept it. he didn't crave the tournaments, it was the other way around. everyone just wanted to have a piece of him but he ain't offering.

✘ 1999

✘ yongin

✘ 9 wins (4 international)

♕ hyun ♕

hyunjin just started his career. he used to be a watcher, a little kid watching his favorites fight it out and he knew he wanted to become a part of the scene and not stay in the crowd. now full of piercings, a bunch of tats and addiction to nicotine later, he was ready. he showed skill, he was promising was what the crowd thought and what he knew himself. he didn't have an ego problem (yes he did) but he knew he was good and would continue to smash it if they gave him a chance.

✘ 2000

✘ seoul

✘ 2 wins

♕ han ♕

jisung knew he was born with the gift of freestyle. not only was he a fan of rap and hip-hop but he would compose so many bars at such a young age, even his friends from school would ask him to rap for them. so it was obvious that when such a young boy joined the scene, only to kill it in every verse that it would cause such a huge impact. he didn't think that when he flew to new york, he would win his first international competition against bangchan. yet that was the best moment of his life and he did not regret a single bit.

✘ 2000

✘ incheon

✘ 6 wins (1 international)

♕ b.o.k ♕

felix was just starting to grow, his deep voice and calm aura were key to it. when he first arrived and saw what was happening on the parks, the way the crowd would act up with whoever was rapping, yeah needed to do that as well. he concentrated when the time would arrive and then would kill it slowly on the mic but it still wasn't enough to earn him wins. he needed to be more brutal, more threatening, have more courage, he had it in him at the end of the day. he needed to stop being afraid of fucking it up first though.

✘ 2000

✘ sydney

✘ 2 wins

♕ min ♕

seungmin wasn't caught up in the rap scene at first. he was always the one who would put the vocals in their tracks, doing the chorus now and again but he got tired of it. he knew he had the lyrics to make it work so why not give it a try? needless to say that his fans absolutely loved the change. he was really well known already but as soon as he started the competitions, there was a shift to how he would act. let's stay he wasn't that friendly anymore but the fans ate up that image so? who cares what anyone else thinks?

✘ 2000

✘ seoul

✘ 3 wins

♕ i.n ♕

jeongin learned what he knew from changbin. he looked up to him in a way he couldn't explain and his hyung taught him everything he needed to know. of course this brought a lot of bars against him in competitions but he would respond in such an effective way that no one dared to fight back. he wasn't covered in tattoos like changbin or had an intimidating voice like felix, but boy did he rap fast. he's got the flow, he's got the skills, he just needs the wins now and as the scene gets tighter, he knew he had to make it out.

✘ 2001

✘ busan

✘ 2 wins

✘ teaser ✘

"so you're mingi's sister?" bangchan asked or at least that's what i thought his name was. can you blame me? i'm not familiar and this is my first time here. i couldn't say though that i wasn't intrigued and a bit intimidated because he had a weird aura about him (or it's probably the face tattoos).

"yeah, it's the first time i'm seeing him compete." i said as i looked around because i thought he was right behind me but i lost track of him. i sighed as he probably got distracted with the first thing he saw or the first person he came across. "i don't know much about rap competitions though but i heard my brother and he's pretty good."

"oh yeah he's incredible. he was in the same group as wooyoung and hongjoong, they killed it in the scene back in the day. wow i'm sounding old as fuck." he said as he crossed his arms and i got a peek at the different designs that were covering him. "oh i'm chan by the way, kind obvious since that's almost my stage name but yeah whatever."

"i'm (y/n), nice to meet you." i said with a smile and he smiled back, damn dimples okay. not like i had a thing for dimples and tats at all, nope. it was easy to lie to myself but i needed to pull myself together, this was my brother's friend at the end of the day.

"already flirting with someone? you've got a girlfriend christopher." another guy said as he approached us, oh my god more tattoos kill me now. but now i knew that chan was off limits and i would stick to being good, not gonna get involved in a cheating scandal, that's not me!

"shut the fuck up! this is mingi's sister dumbass." chan said and the other dude made the most shocked expression. okay so mingi did not talk about me at all which was good and bad, good because i did not like to be mentioned around but also if i knew it was full of guys like these, i would've liked them to know my existence. then again it wouldn't have been good because i would constantly be thrown around in verses.

"oh shit, hi i'm changbin. you probably heard of me because i'm wooyoung's best friend and he's very close to mingi." he said and of fucking course, how did i not recognize him? dude is practically one of the best rappers in korea. the fact that i was standing by two people that were masters of not only this scene but of music was huge to me and the fact that they were nice just made it better.

"hi, yeah wooyoung is at my house a lot. please come pick him up, he practically lives there." i said, rolling my eyes, which caused them to laugh and god what a beautiful sound. no, boundaries (y/n) please, stay true to yourself and don't fall for the man with tats again.

"(y/n) what are you doing with these old men? oh wait never mind, i'm older than bin by two days." he said as he got close to you and greeted chan and changbin with a smile. "i didn't expect you two here and it seems like you met my sister."

"well changbin obviously came by to support jeongin since you're competing with him today. i have no idea what i'm doing here man, i practically live here." chan said, lighting up a cigarette which i found kinda odd since we were backstage and not outside but i was guessing no one really cared about that shit here.

"dude is a freestyle ancient, he has to be in all competitions." changbin said which earned him a punch in the shoulder from chan and a laugh from mingi and myself. "but yeah i gotta support my boy but i wish you the best as well."

"thank you man, really appreciate it." mingi said and looked at me, giving me a little smile which i gave him back as i hugged him. "gotta go on stage, don't drift too far away and fucking pray that i win."

"duh dumbass, that's why i came here!" i said smiling and giving him a pat on the back as he went out, all the lights focusing on him and the so-called jeongin or i.n. also there were the judges who were mostly composed from ex freestylers, rappers and previous winners.

"let's get this show started." changbin said and chan just nodded as he looked at the screen but then he looked back.

he gave me a wink and of fucking course i blushed. yeah this wasn't going to end well for me wasn't it?

#sourbinnie #skz fics #skz fanfics #skz au #skz aus #skz x you #skz x reader #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz teaser #ot8 x reader #stray kids ot8 #skz ot8 #ot8 x you #skz x female reader

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a-dumbass-jester · 2 months

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Yttd x tma au!!

The main post with plot an a full explanation and story.

{Part one} (it’s much more bref there, this is much more in depth and organized)

This focuses more on the dummies bc I love them but I also think that theme of loss of humanity fits well with them {this post will have a lot to do this them and their plot}

{Art I drew}

{Ao3}

Words: ~4,500

- Overview -

Sara Chidouin - The End

Midori - The Web

Sue Miley - The Spiral

Tia Safalin - The Dark

Rio Ranger - The Stranger

Shunsuke Hayasaka - The Eye

Hinako Mishuku - The Desolation

Anzu Kinashi - The Stranger

Ranmaru Kageyama - The Lonely

Mai Tsurugi - The Slaughter

Naomichi Kurumada - The Extinction

Q-Taro Bugerburg - The Hunt

Megumi Sasahara - The Corruption

- Intro -

So to start yttd aligns with tma a lot actually!! First off chapter one had a very strong paranormal theme to it, as well a lot of manifestations/themes that the entities had though out the game. The most obvious because the dolls (stranger) and death (end)

The timeline fits to!! The death game happens April 2017, which is a few months before The Unknowning, around/mid season three(3). The change happens October 2018 which is enough time for the plot.

In case you are here for yttd and don’t know anything about the Magnus archives, tma is a horror fiction podcast where there are 14(now 15) fear based entities/gods, that feed of of peoples fear. And occasionally instead of fearing an entity, some people ‘sympathize’ with it. Becoming an vessel or avatar for it instead. I don’t think you have to worry about not having context to tma because I think I did a pretty good job explaining it. if you are confused a quick Google search will probably answer your questions. I even linked the entities wiki page if you quickly want answers. If you are interested in tma or even just a specific fear but don’t wanna listen to a 200 episode podcast, this is a rlly good playlist explaining the entities.

- Asunaro -

So basically everything is the same except that yttd and tma take place in the same world. I can see asunaro being like the Magnus institute in how it serves the eye, I can see it serving an entity as well, but instead of it being one entity, there’s different parts that are dedicated to different ones, because there’s a few asunaro matches with, the most obvious one is The End, also known as Death or Terminus, is well death. Considering their focus on death and a full on death game makes it fit quite well. I can also see The Web or the Mother of Puppets playing a part because as we see a few times (especially in the mini episodes) they try to control the participant’s lives like how they framed Alice for murder. but also in the way they had the ai simulations. They knew every way it could play out, everyone’s chance at survival, what they do when threatened with death, what they do when they’ve lost everything, playing with them like puppets. Due too asunaro’s assassin history in Kai’s backstory I can see them connected to The Slaughter as well. I don’t think asunaro would have started out serving an entity. The would’ve done what they did in cannon and then found out they exist and that they aligned with some of them and ended up here. The entities that helped them realize that would’ve been The Eye and Stranger. When they started stalking the future participants they caught the attention of The Eye, also know as the Ceaseless Watcher or Beholding. It started to let asunaro use it to get information. The doll thing was also an accident. They started to make the dolls to help with people mourning loved ones like in cannon, but got influenced by The Stranger or the I Do Not Know You and started replacing them entirely, and make them look a lot less human, and leaning into uncanny valley. like something was wrong but you just don’t know what.

- Asunaro’s Employees -

SARA CHIDOUIN

While I know Sara isn’t an employee, her existence still plays a massive part with The End and the company. Like I mentioned in my original post I rlly like the idea of her being deified by asunaro. So I can see her playing a similar role to Angus. Her father was fascinated by The End and very early on he started to raise her for it. Asunaro quickly caught on and was more than happy to help. So along with raising her to be perfect for the death game, They raised her to be the perfect vessel for The End. She didn’t become an avatar until during the death game. They kept her from becoming an avatar before then. She was heavily marked by it, but they wouldn’t let The End take her before that point. So when it did make her an avatar it was very sudden, and all at once. The entities were kept a secret for her entire life, so when she started getting the dreams of how the still alive participants would die during the game, she just dismissed them as simple nightmares what came with trama. But then those dreams actually happened. How she saw them die in the dreams is how they ended up dying in the game. And then the roots showed up. She saw the way death wrapped around everyone in a way only she was able to see. By the end of the death game She becomes The Ends main avatar. She goes from a sort of death prophet to Death incarnate as It and Asunaro takes more and more. She becomes their Angel of death.

MIDORI / SOU HIYORI

I don’t have to much of an explanation for this one. But i remember someone calling him the puppeteer doll, and that he kinda messes with people like puppets or play things, so I think it lines up with The Mother of Puppets. That and I think a simple basic kind of fear would work well with him. I could see him using spiders to subtly scare people, especially the people he’s close with like Shin. He is the reason Shin had an encounter with The Web in high school. I can see him as the head (or at least someone higher up) of The Web section/avatars. He became an avatar rlly young. He had always rlly liked The Web and With his connection to Asunaro he was able to connect with it, and commonly used it to mess with people. Even as a little 5 year old.

SUE MILEY / EMIRI HARAI

As I mentioned here she’s the perfect avatar for The Spiral, also known as The Distortion or The Great Twisting, If not a victim of it. In the game she gaslights people into thinking that their loved ones death was their fault, and she was also driven mad by asunaro. Due to The Distortion also having a theme of hallucinations, the ones we see in game would have been her doing, or at least part of it. This next part is a bit unimportant but I wanna include it anyway, I hc backstory is that she’s Mai’s sister and was taken from them at a young age under the guise of letting her research more of the disturbing stuff that she was interested in. They framed her death and changed her last name. Slowly they started desensitizing her, as she slowly got used to stuff like death and suffering. As well as loveboming her, stuff that can be used by The Spiral. That overall theme fits The Spiral to me. She becomes an avatar as an adult, when she goes mad in cannon. And actively used The Distortion during the death game. Like I mentioned earlier, she used the hallucinations to drive people mad, and made them spiral as much as possible.

TIA SAFALIN/MICHIRU NAMIDA

I originally assigned her The Dark also known as The forever Blind or Mr Pitch, because of the way tma blended science and religion with it specifically with Manuela Dominguez. I can even see her playing a similar role. Ok I have to be honestly I don’t have a lot for this one. I just rlly like the idea of Dark!Michiru. I can maybe see her becoming an Avatar trying to escape an entity. she was a researcher and maybe fell victim to The Ceaseless Watcher, and in a way to stop it she gouged her eyes out to sever her connection to it, and in the process fell into The Forever Blind. Also I’ll get into this when I talk about Hayasaka (in the dummies section) but I like the idea of her serving The Dark while he serves The Eye, two(2) entities known to hate each other. But anyway back to the eye thing, Hayasaka and Emiri helping her after literally going blind. And still being blind during the game and using a cane, and often using the dark during it as well. But yea I just rlly like dark!Michiru.

RIO RANGER

I’ll get into him a bit more with Anzu, but this happens after the death game. Where he is rebuilt and finds out about Sei and has a bit of an identity crisis. That along with the doll thing makes him end up falling into The Stranger. He and Anzu got close after the game. They bonded over liking to dress up/costumes and preforming. Anzu even got him to become a clown. So when Asunaro pushed her into The Stranger he followed, and went on a similar arc as she did.

OTHER

Obviously like I said earlier Mr Chidoun serves The End. I know there’s a theory that he and Meister are the same person but going purely of of Meister I can see either Web or Stranger. Web because of his association with Midori, and probably Stranger because of the doll thing, l can imagine him leaning into uncanny valley, he also looks a lot like Nikola, like if Meister was a clown. Kai was almost an slaughter avatar, and by almost i mean it’s what asunaro wanted, but he couldn’t actually fit it. I don’t rlly have one for Gashu actually. Maybe Stranger because he makes dolls? I can also see him leaning into uncanny valley, but that’s literally it.

- DUMMIES-

(Reminder that this post is important for this section)

The dummies overall story: so it’s the beginning part of that^ post where Midori was fucking around and put their human souls in their dolls and ais. It worked and after the death game they rebooted and rebuilt them. This is where it starts getting a bit different. They were still experimented on, trying to find the exact differences between Human and doll. However this time they are more focused on turning them into avatars. Anzu and Hinako were the easiest, all they needed were a slight nudge and they would keep falling whether they wanted to or not. Ranmaru, Hayasaka and Mai were more difficult. They aligned well with an entity, however they clung to their humanity much more than Anzu and Hinako did. They did eventually fall with a big enough push. Kurumada was the hardest to deal with. First off he didn’t actually align a whole lot with one specific entity. He had some connection to two(2) or three(3) entities, but not enough to become an avatar. They did eventually find one but it wasn’t even fully formed, they had to push even harder.

In order of when they became avatars

SHUNSUKE HAYASAKA

{important} As I mentioned in my Og post Hayasaka Is PERFECT for The Eye. On the wiki page, it says The Ceaseless Watcher fears are focused on being watched, Having secrets revealed, Horrible knowledge, Being exposed and judged, which works VERY well considering he was the one to watch over the rest of the participants. Before his memory’s were erased for the death game, he knew everything about everyone, he’s watched them all for a few years now. The Eye had originally marked him in high school, teasing him with the knowledge thing it has. he didn’t follow it because he didn’t know what it was yet. When he started working for Asunaro and they told him to start stalking the participants, it came back, and it loved him. He fit so perfectly, it couldn’t help itself. Hayasaka hated it. He rejected it for a while, until a few months in Michiru helped him get used to and accept it. Overtime he got more and more comfortable with it. He does become an avatar before the death game. So he has access to The Eye during it. I’m imagining him getting hungry at some point and tries to get a Statement, and ends up going to kurumada and asks him about his encounter with The Buried from when he was in high school. In which after he finishes he freaks out and almost blows up at him, but Hayasaka stops him and explains everything. I would also like to mention that he also acts a lot different during the game now. Going back the the {important} thing, he was much colder and assertive The Eye didn’t let asunaro erase his memory, so he remembered everything anyway. It’s also what tipped asunaro off to what Midori did, because like why does Hayasaka act exactly how he did as a human, and not his ai self. And why does he still know everything. The Ceaseless Watcher also told him what Midori did. And he tried to tell the others about it as well. Especially the other dummies because 1. He genuinely wanted them to know about what actually happened, and that they are really them and not an ai copy, and 2. He wanted to bring them together, so that had each others backs. ‘We are in the exact same position, let’s work together’ they helped each other get used to everything as well.

HINAKO MISHUKU

She started becoming an avatar a little bit before the Death game. Midori recognized that she had a lot of potential for The Desolation. So he started leading her down that path with getting her to go after and destroy the people who hurt her/people she dislikes. Slowly she became more and more destructive. It ended up real bad after the game. She knew exactly what asunaro did to her. How they destroyed her life and took everything from her. The sheer anger that she felt. She sought out to harm the people that did that to her. After that had started she began to spiral. Eventually she started harming more people, people that didn’t do anything to her. Slowly becoming more sadistic. she thrived on that destruction, the pain she brought others. One day She was burning down someones house and got caught in the flames a little bit after the game. She was the first one the rest of the dummies become an avatar. Hayasaka already was one. This made Mai, Ranmaru and Kurumada realize what exactly asunaro was going to do to them. Anzu decent made them realize how bad it was going to be.

ANZU KINASHI

Anzu’s transformation hit everyone hard. They had meet Hayasaka and Hinako after they started succumbing. They basically watched Anzu die. They saw a sweet kid become a monster before their very eyes and they couldn’t do anything about it. Luckily for the others their change weren’t that bad. It was very easy to get Anzu to spiral into The Stranger. All she needed was a push, first Asunaro wanted to get a proper mark on her. Anzu was already a clown and now a doll, both things very associated with I Do Not Know You, so it was very easy to get its attention. The doll thing was already a bit of a mark. But The official mark would’ve been similar to Mag 87: The Uncanny Valley. Asunaro got in contact with a Stranger avatar (probably Gashu if he wasn’t dead) and had them fuck with her(resulting in a very solid mark). This happened relatively soon after the game. Asunaro also got her interested in ‘The Circus of the Other’. (And even tried to reach out to them to let them know they might have a new member soon!!(if their plan worked(it did))). The lack of identity started soon after the marking. After going something so traumatic, she changed quite a bit. That and The Strangers affects starting to plant in her head. She also leaned into it because it had a huge theme of not knowing, she probably wanted to forget everything that happened and live in bliss. The disconnect from her identity only got worse she properly got involved with it. Her personality and just who she was as a person changed a lot, both physically and mentally, which slowly made her feel like she wasn’t “Anzu Kinashi” anymore. I mean “Anzu Kinashi” was dead (legally at least), and because of that, her being a doll now, and having to be cut off from her family. She was kept in asunaro’s facility. Everything was different now. She was different. Anzu ended up changing her name because 1. She didn’t feel like it fit anymore and 2. To let “Anzu” rest. I cant rlly think of a name she would choose but all I can come up with is Pierrot. At her end point she leaned very heavily into uncanny doll. She still Had a lot of energy and emotion but now there was something off about it, almost empty, hollow and fake. She also likes to wear masks. Not the one she used to wear though. That one’s for Anzu, she has a collection of different masks now. She still has the old one, it’s sitting nice on a shelf. A place to mourn who she was. The timeline is a bit weird. It’s main issue how fast can she loose it. because the game happens in April, while The Stranger’s ritual, The Unknowning happens August. I Hope she can join Circus of the Other before the Unknowning but I feel like that’s stretching it a bit. Anyways Breekon (and Hope If he’s alive) go get Anzu and she joins them, and kinda fucks around over there for a while, and properly leaves everything behind. (Also she knows English because she’s an ai now and can download it)

RANMARU KAGEYAMA

Unlike Anzu he had always been connected to an entity. The Lonely was always there. It followed him as he grew up. The ever present fog that was everywhere he was. With the hc from this post, first off I think a lonely ice skater could be rlly cool but also like I mentioned his parents were ice skaters and held him to a high standard and since so much of their love for him came from that when he wasn’t living up to their standards he felt less loved. More alone. He started to become a few years before the death game. When his relationship with his parents got worse and he started getting outcasted. He started falling into The Lonely. It was very very slow. But when he got into the game and found out what was happening, he immediately pushed it away. No matter how badly he wanted to fall into it and let it embrace him, he pushed it away. And clung to his humanity. He didn’t want to become a monster. Especially after what he saw what happened to the others. How they lost themselves. Eventually asunaro got tired of waiting and started isolating him. Soon enough they didn’t need to anymore, and He was doing it on his own. The closer he got to the lonely, the more tempting it was. eventually, he let go, fell into the fog and was never seen again.

MAI TSURUGI

Mai was touched by The Slaughter before due to asunaro seeing an opportunity when she started carrying around a knife but when she was brought into the death game, something touched by The Slaughter, and it’s affects over her got stronger, however it took her much longer to succumb to it than Ranmaru. Partially because she wasn’t as tied to it as Ranmaru was to the lonely but also because she had more self control. She was able to withdraw herself from it for a lot longer than he was. But, she did become. It had been terrorizing her for months to even over a year, and eventually, she broke. She became when she had an outburst of pent up anger and emotion towards asunaro and killed a ~dozen of employees and broke out to try and live normally again (or as normal as you can get when ur an avatar and a doll)

NAOMICHI KURUMADA

Kurumada was easily the hardest to assign. He never fit an entity like the others did. Asunaro bet on slaughter due to how violent he got during the incident, but he didn’t stay angry. He quickly burnt out and just didn’t know what to do. when he was taken into the death game and his memories were erased he did kinda regain his anger but it quickly faded when he got back them and even got worse to the point of being suicidal after he fully realized that everything had changed. He just wasn’t angry anymore. He was tired and did want to do anything. Asunaro couldn’t get him connected to the slaughter anymore. (I also didn’t wanna give the only character who’s not paper white the sudden violence one) he didn’t fit any other pre existing fears so he just kinda sat there for a while, watching the people he loved become monsters. And then The Extinction came into knowledge. The fear of the death of humanity and Catastrophic change. In the past few years everything has changed for him. The loss of his mentor and his dream of being an boxer, his humanity, he’s dead, he’s now a ghost possessing an ai stuck in a doll, he’s now stuck in a facility that did all of this to him. And hell he’s basically a different person now. Even the death of humanity works because he by definition isn’t human anymore. Not to mention he was in a death game and facility where humans die and are replaced with ai dolls. The Extinction also has a huge theme of tech, which works with kurumada considering he’s an ai now. Asunaro didn’t even have to anything to get him to start becoming. The Extinction taking kurumada is what made them realize it existed in the first place. After that they started to subtly push him in that direction. He was the last of the six to become an avatar. After Mai had her outbreak, the only ones left were him, hayasaka, and Hinako though she often went missing for days if not weeks at a time. And even then she’s only really come back to occasionally sleep even though she doesn’t need to anymore. So it was basically just Hayasaka. He did start to see some off the others again after he became an avatar. I like to imagine his avatar-ness being a lot like {this} I don’t know what to add to that, he’s just like that. He’d hang out in abandoned cites. The person finding him could be Hayasaka or Sara maybe.

- Other participants -

Q-TARO BURGERBURG

Q-Taro had a similar arc to Daisy. He was first properly marked by The Hunt when he went to America to learn how to use a gun. The person that taught him was a Hunter and they noticed that he he reeked of The Hunt, and used that opportunity to properly mark him. His affiliation with The Hunt became more obvious when the he was put into the game. The way he was so quick to weed out the weak and leave them for dead is something strongly associated with The Hunt. Because as mentioned by Jon in S5, ‘yes the hunt is associated with the Chase but it’s mainly the fear of being seen as weak and being left for dead, and being prey.’ His connection to the Hunt only got stronger as the game went on. During 3-B Safalin (or someone with asunaro (maybe Hayasaka)) mentions he’s becoming an avatar for The Hunt, and that he’s going to become a monster at some point. And this adds another reason he sacrificed himself and died in Keijis place. I also rlly like the idea of Q-Taro having a more animalistic fear. I also like the idea of him and Mai feeding together, since The Hunt and Slaughter are similar fears.

MEGUMI SASAHARA

Megumi has always been touched by The Corruption, especially after she joined the police force and made her way to the top. but her death was what made her an avatar. she comes back probably in chapter 2 and attacks the cast. She's a Corruption avatar because I want her to be as disgusting on the outside as she is on the inside (and because of the corruption in the police system)

- Closing -

To end this off I would like too add some hcs, specifically encounters some of the people had with entities, as well as some alignment due to most of them dying before they could possibly become avatars. I already mentioned that Shin as well as most of the cast, had an encounter with The Web due to midori. Whether it was more subtly like most of the cast or more obvious like with shin.Kurumada had an encounter with The Buried, that’s why his first trial was like that. The real Hinako was end aligned. Keiji is touched by the corruption due to being part of the police force. In my original part I mentioned desolation!joe and vast!mishima. Desolation Joe could’ve possibly happened by him finding out about what asunaro did to his father (and what they did in general) and wanting to burn it to the ground (think Tim stoker). Vast Mishima actually could’ve happened before the death game. I can see him a lot like Simon, painter who fell in love with the sky. I feel like his also pretty curious so maybe he’d have an encounter with the vast thought it was fascinating and wanted to figure out what it is. But as soon as he realized what he was dealing with, he would’ve tried to get away. The main story/ death game is still relatively the same, just with the entities added in.

Thank you so much for reading!!! This has been something I’ve been working on since October, ever since I started The Magnus archives. You reading this and listening to my ramblings means a lot to me!!

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tangytiramisu · 1 year

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General Poly Jotakak x Reader

Idk about y’all but I love the idea of being sandwiched into a loving relationship between these men 💖 I tried to keep these HCs a bit vague so they apply to any part in the series. I will most likely do NSFW ones next 🫣

Everyone Lives AU

Warnings: None!

You three are quite chill and soft.

Both Jotaro and Kakyoin are generally pretty mellow.

If you’re an introvert, the three of you often spend time doing your own thing at home. More often than not, Jotaro is doing research, reading, or napping while Kakyoin is playing video games or creating art. All three of you are almost always in the same room.

If you’re extroverted, they wouldn’t mind going out with you to social events, as long as they aren’t too long or frequent. You guys mostly settle for going out to quiet places like the park, or spending quality time at home regardless of your intro/extroversion.

The three of you often play video games together. Kakyoin almost always wins unless Joot is feeling a bit more competitive, which ends in a tie most of the time.

Taking naps together is a common and almost mandatory occurrence for you three. Because of how tired Jotaro usually is he often falls asleep first while you and Kakyoin giggle about how cute he looks. If Kak falls asleep first (which is quite rare since he’s almost always preoccupied) you and Joot just snuggle in silence, occasionally chatting softly about whatever comes to mind. If you fall asleep first, your two bois will engage in idle conversation while caressing your hair or fingers.

Joot doesn’t cook often. As he grew up, Holly was the one who cooked, and while he would occasionally help as a child, she didn’t want him near the stove too often out of fear of him burning himself. As a result he doesn’t have much experience but can make pretty nice dishes when following instructions carefully. On the other hand, Kakyoin is good at cooking (the guy somehow managed to make breakfast in the desert so there’s no way he can’t cook) and enjoys trying out new recipes. If you cook, the two will help as best as they can, but it’s usually Kak who volunteers to assist you.

Personality dynamic wise, your sweethearts are different in some ways yet similar in others.

We all know that Joot is the silent stoic kind. He doesn’t speak much and, while he thinks he’s easy to read, he’s quite far from it. However, if you pay attention there are definitely signs of his love. He shows affection through actions and will help you even when you don’t ask for it. He will blush slightly and grumble dismissively when you thank him.

Kakyoin is less reserved than Joot. He’s a tease and enjoys making his two lovers blush redder than cherries. He likes impressing you with his intelligence, but is very good at doing so in a humble way. He also enjoys flirtatious banter and if you just so happen to engage with him, the two of you will go at it for minutes while Joot blushes.

Regardless of their differences though, they are both quiet and somewhat aloof, but still caring in their own ways. If you have a bad day, Jotaro will prepare your favorite beverage and give you a nice shoulder massage (and he’s quite good at it) while Kak will gladly listen to you vent if you need to. He’ll also lend you a shoulder to rest your head upon.

Speaking of, nobody would dare upset you as long as Jotaro and Kakyoin are at your side, though if somebody has the balls to even look at you the wrong way, your boys will take care of them in a heartbeat. We know how strong Jotaro is, and Kakyoin’s sharp tongue is nothing to be messed with.

You three often visit eachother’s families, particularly Holly. She absolutely adores you and Kakyoin and is so happy that her son found such wonderful partners and often invites you guys over for dinner and over holidays. Kakyoin’s parents are also delighted that their son has people he is close to now, and there’s no doubt that your family would be fond of your partners too.

It’s pretty obvious that you guys are strong as all hell in battle. If you have a stand, the combination of (Stand Name), Star Platinum, and Hierophant Green makes for an impressive team. If you aren’t a stand user, you use your intellect as a weapon.

The three of you together are an unstoppable force in every sense of the phrase.

After Part 3, Jotaro is often away from home, which means that you and Kakyoin are often back home together. I headcanon that Kakyoin would also work for the Speedwagon Foundation by researching Stands, but is not required to travel as much, meaning that he spends a lot more time with you.

It’s always fun bonding with Kakyoin during these times and you often come up with dumb but hilarious inside jokes that you share with Joot whenever you three get together again.

You plan little parties for when Jotaro gets back from overseas.

The two of you often video chat with Jotaro while he’s abroad. Some of the most frequent discussion topics are work related (primarily stands) and your day to day lives.

A lot of the time, Jotaro will come home to you and Kakyoin cuddling fast asleep in bed, and after a quick shower he joins you. He can’t help but smile at the peaceful expressions on your faces.

The three of you often wake up tangled up in the sheets the next morning. A lot of the time you are on your stomach lying on Jotaro’s torso while Kakyoin is huddled up into his side. Jotaro has his arms wrapped around both of you.

Unlike Jotaro’s canon relationship, this one is more likely to work out because Kakyoin is a stand user as well. The chances are much higher if you are one too. :)

I saw this headcanon somewhere else but I also 100% agree that it would also work because Kakyoin would raise all hell if Joot abandoned you.

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sexxxtraterrestrial · 1 month

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Intro Post!!!

Hi, my name is Av or Exxxtra, this blog is not gonna be everyone’s cup of tea and that’s alright, feel free to block me or something if that’s the case. Just don’t start fights pretty please !

I’m a proshipper (ask abt that) and I like South/Hellpark mainly. I make art and I write sometimes, I really like calligraphy and working on my penmanship :D

This blog isn’t explicitly NSFW, but there will be mentions of some (probably unorthodox/taboo) sexual topics, so I’ll just label it a ‘suggestive’ blog.

I’ve most likely got some version of neurodivergence bouncing around in my dome, but nothing I’ve gotten diagnosed or checked for

I have a DD:DNE South Park AU in the works, currently not ready to be shared

discord is the same as my user!! vent blog: @exxxtra-vent

im polyamorous as fuck

Uhhh… yeah that’s it’s really!! No particular DNI, save for the obvious (LGBTphobes, racists, pedophiles/creeps, zoophiles, antis, etc).

NOTE: Many things on this blog I only support in a fictional context.

#proship safe #proship please interact #antis dni #necroposting #tw necrophillia #cw gore #flashing gif #flash warning #eyestrain warning #intro post

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kookiecrumb · 2 years

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BTS Makne Line's

Panty Competition

(A "Choose Your Own Adventure" fic)

INTRO & MASTERLIST

pairings: collegestudent!jungkook x reader, collegestudent!taehyung x reader, collegestudent!jimin x reader

summary: You find a collection of lingerie hanging from Jungkook's bedpost and learn that he made a peculiar bet with his two college buddies. Why not join in on the fun?

warnings vary per version. all contain smut (18+)

word counts vary per version. (~2K each)

tags: friends to lovers, college au, fluff and smut

a/n: at the bottom of the intro, please select which member you'd like to spend the night with!

You've noticed something weird about your roommate's headboard. There's an accumulation of...women's lingerie hanging from Jungkook's bedpost.

Upon spotting it, you immediately come closer to investigate. You're unsure as to whether or not to touch it, but you conclude that you shouldn't, given the context.

There are plenty of possibilities here. He could be a secret drag queen. You can imagine him now, dressed up as the most dramatic, fish-faced queen you've ever seen. Watching him strut in a nine-inch heel would be quite the sight to behold.

But, alas, that would require that he own the same size of panties for each pair. Judging from the range of sizes, it couldn't be that he's secretly performing drag on the weekends.

The obvious hits you. He's a panty-thief! Jungkook would be the type to sneak into the community laundromat and steal pairs of underwear from nice young ladies' loads. Yes, of course! How could you have missed it before? He's always sneaking about and acting susp–

"Whatareyoudoing?"

The lights flash on.

Jungkook scrambles to grab his collection from the bedpost and block you from his bed. "Y/N, don't touch those…" he shoots you a dirty look.

Now, you're confused. "Uh! Wait. So you're the perv here and you're telling me to get away from your stash of women's underwear that you chose to hang casually on your bedpost?"

"Yes." Jungkook starkly replies. "You don't know whose they are. I know whose they are." He carefully folds them in his hands and sets them down. "Besides, it's none of your business."

He's kind of right.

Jungkook is an adult and as far as you can tell, he hasn't brought anyone over while you were still at the apartment. That's respect.

However, you still think you're owed an explanation. "Well, then…tell me. Why do you have a collection of women's lingerie hanging from your bedpost, Mr.Jeon?"

"I'm glad you asked first! Damn!" He huffs, frustrated. "It's for a bet that me, Taehyung, and Jimin have going on. Whoever has the most one night stands over spring break wins."

That explains a fuck ton. "Oh! Ohhh…wait, so what's keeping you from just stealing my underwear and declaring victory, then?"

"Uhh, I don't know, human decency?!" Jungkook snaps. "The thing that you lack?"

You furrow your eyebrows. That was mean. You were only curious. "Well, if that's the case…"

CHOOSE YOUR MEMBER:

• JUNGKOOK'S VERSION

• TAEHYUNG'S VERSION

• JIMIN'S VERSION (currently writing...)

☆ BONUS (Coming Soon)

permatag gang gang: @kooliv , @koobsessed , @angelwonie , @carolynanderson , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz , @swyseren , @sxtaep , @koostarcandy , @hgema , @jjkeverlast , @armys-dna , and @nglmrk

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nekodere07 · 1 year

Text

Can someone recommend me Team ZIT fics? + technically fic recommendations also for those who want to read them

Preferably completed and platonic but if it's not, its ok as long as it's not obvious enough that I can still convince myself that it's /p

They can also be either Tango, Impulse, or Zedaph-centric as long as the 3 of them are there I'm ok with it

Team ZIT fics I already read so far to avoid repetition (and maybe people might also want to read them):

The Call of the Void (my most fav Zedaph centric fic so far)

Labs Were Not Made For Littles

Your Message: Come Get Me Please

cura te ipsum

The TIZ Team

What is a Tango?

When You Wake Up, You'll Be Forgotten.

Here is Home

My Behaviour’s Crazy, Can’t Phase Me!

Time Travel Zedaph

Repulse

Don't Go Pretending You're Okay When You're Not

Everything or Nothing

Furious Cocktail AU

Arctic Blaze

Lava is Thicker Than Water

Even in Death

Tapping on the Glass / Falling in a Forest

Home With Me / Home From You

Hunt the Haunt

When Everything Burns (I'm There To Calm The Blaze)

Camp ZIT

magic misfits au

Wax Covered Eyes and Void Filled Mouth

“I’m a blaze hybrid.” (my most fav Tango centric fic so far)

Magic (We All Need a Helping Hand)

Team ZIT Intro (Working Title) (DBH au is pretty interesting)

Maybe I've done enough

impulse you idiot please take a nap

Chicken and Man (No Alfalfa Here)

Tell Me I’m Frozen, But What Can I Do?

potholing

Bite Tongue, Deep Breaths

here was a man mourning tomorrow, who tried but finally drowned in his sorrow

Everything Moves (in which Team ZIT experiences the laws of motion)

Colors- aka nearly 3000 words of the author having no clue what she is doing

The Strange Being That Is Zedaph

Location Unknown

stomach bugs and self-care

Achievement hunter

Fulfilled

Omen of Death Tango

A Guide to Urban Exploration and Animatronic Repairs

Stressed Till Regressed

Losing Face (my most fav Impulse centric fic so far)

The Sun Could Go Out, We're Gonna Be Okay

i can't carry the weight

A Crack In The Egg (not a platonic fic but it's not obvious enough that I can still read it as /p, surprisingly I also loved it)

ZITS Oneshots

a little help from my friends

Lava goes "sloosh sloosh," people go "AHHHH"

I’ve Got You (ZITS angst)

Sliiping Lately

Crystals and Candy

Security Breach (my most fav non HC au fic so far)

Hocus Pocus, Zedaph’s the Focus

Broken Red Line

friends in odd places (my other most fav non HC au fic so far)

✨ UPDATE ✨

Trapped in Paradise

count your blessings, not your flaws

Cause We Are Whole (Robot Tango for the win!!!!!)

Out for slaughter

You’ll Dig a Grave With Me - 00FFFF - Hermitcraft [Archive of Our Own]

Another One Bites The Dust

Character Building with Tango Tek and co

Team ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

Armour Makes the Man

Automaton Blokes

Chocolate and a Miracle or Two

You Called?

Toil and Trouble

And your just a burden.

Phasmozits au

Grade-A Pranksters

Parare Ad Convivium

It’s Just a Jump to the Left

These Hands Are All We Have

At Least You

Holes in Judgement

Swallow Your Fears

#nekodere07 #hermittober #hermitblr #hermitcraft #hc tango #tango #tangotek #hc impulse #impulsesv #hc zedaph #zedaph #zedaphplays #traffic smp #trafficblr #fanfic #ao3 #someone recommend me fics I'm desperate :(#I think I read too many Grian centric/Desert duo fics that the recent ones have been less entertaining #hopefully if I read Team ZIT I can enjoy Grian/Desert duo fics again

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drawnfamiliarfaces · 8 months

Note

So in the HoM AU all of our nostalgia teen superhero’s join forces to stop evil? Is there like one new villain they all fight together or do they help each other out with their own universes villains if things get too rough?

So. Its kinda none of the above but also is??? haha ^-^''

Since im making it up as I go, there is not much details I can share rn for what i got, but the basic 'plot' is centered on a very big 'problem' that they all will have to tackle using their respective abilties/specialties, so it is kind of a collaborative effort to fight a new big 'enemy'.

It kind of becomes obvious in the first few pages of intro/part 1 i got going (20 pages of very rough draft! so exciting), what the problem is and how everyone is/would be involved in time. It also deals with some very obvious problems/questions concerning the crossover and im very excited to tackle them!

But there is also a few 'planned' (to call it very generiously lol) ideas for flashbacks about how most of them met (which I hope to make plentyful ngl).

Dont get me wrong I love the xovers where it is like a big showdown where everyone show up at once and there are a lot of snappy/snarky first meetings and suddenly everyone just kind of flow into 'work together' mindset as they face off a Big Bad. But what I had in mind is less intense Infinity Wars and more of a... gradual One Piece type of set up?? (it made more sense in my mind lol).

I want to explore how they AND their worlds meet and tie in together in a more complex way (at least attempt to!) and in a less mind taxing way where I had to figure out how to stuff in everyone everywhere at once.

#que?#hom au #hom au Q&A #hope it made at least a little bit of sense lol

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starlightkun · 1 year

Text

❧ word count: 11.9k

❧ warnings: cursing, mentions of death/dead people in the context of him being hades, probably more legal jargon than there should be but i tried to make it as easy to understand as possible i promise, it gets pretty existential at some points but never overtly angsty

❧ genre: fluff, getting together, greek gods/goddesses au, hades jaemin, human reader, nades au, paralegal reader, bit of a ham-fisted persephone allegory, inspired by the gods/goddesses assigned to the work it unit in 2020 for this video, appearances by bestie jeno and coworker yangyang

❧ author’s note: ahhh my first fic back after over a year hiatus!! not super accurate to the original greek myths, i was just havin fun with hades as a concept rather than a strict characterization. i also watched mike flanagan’s ‘midnight mass’ and read john milton’s ‘paradise lost’ during the time i was writing this so get ready for some slight spiritual/religious iconography and overtones. hope y’all enjoy, i had so much fun playing around with my writing in this one!!

❧ spotify playlist

⤷ sequel

The god’s—Jaemin’s—eyes continued to stare you down. It felt like he was looking into your soul. And you wanted him to.

“I didn’t summon you,” you told him cautiously. “Or at least I didn’t try to.”

“Okay, so I’m thinking she could accidentally be pushed into oncoming traffic—”

“And who exactly would be doing this accidental pushing?” You cut Jeno off with a scoff.

Currently, you were laying on your back on your bed, head hanging off the end of it and phone in hand. Your best friend, Lee Jeno, was on the other end of the line, jokingly scheming to get you a job at his workplace. Jeno somehow worked as a legal assistant at the best civil law practice in your city, and you, on the other hand, were unemployed. This was what you got for taking an extra year to get your master’s degree to become a paralegal instead of immediately jumping into the workforce after undergrad.

That was where you and Jeno had met: Intro to Philosophy on your very first day of college as two bright-eyed freshmen with surprisingly similar career goals and the same taste in 00s pop punk bands. Now you were a year and a half past graduating with your bachelor’s, and six months past your master’s. And what had that extra effort gotten you? Many, many interviews that all ended the same way: You’re “an incredible applicant,” but “too educated” for the pay of the position and/or “too inexperienced.”

Jeno, on the other hand, had declined your suggestion to further your education together and instead landed himself a legal assistant job right out of college. So now here you were, living off the remnants of your student loans and savings as you desperately hunted for a paralegal job.

Your best friend’s elaborate plans to get you a job at his firm would typically make you laugh, but this time you couldn’t even muster up a chuckle. Earlier today when you checked your bank accounts during a break from emailing out your résumé, you were confronted with the fact that your savings were running out; you didn’t have enough to even get you to the end of your lease in six months.

“God will, duh,” Jeno said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His current plan was centered around a junior partner’s paralegal dying of a myriad of mysterious causes, and apparently this time involved divine intervention too.

“Oh, right, of course,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious about the fact that Yejin needs to go, though. I have no clue how she’s still employed. And you would be the perfect fit for Ms. Haseul, she kind of does a little bit of everything, but her main focus is general corporate representation. Wasn’t that what you specialized in for grad school?”

“It is, yes.”

“Then there we go!”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Jeno.”

You sighed. All this talk about a job that you’ll never have was bringing down your spirits. “Anyway, I have half a leftover pizza in the fridge calling my name right now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, bye, Y/N! I’ll keep my ears peeled for any sign of dissent in the ranks so you can slip your way in!”

“Right, bye.”

Hanging up, another sigh tumbled out of your mouth as you tossed your phone somewhere further up your bed. Truthfully, you weren’t hungry in the slightest, you just wanted to get out of that conversation. You brought your hands to your face to rub circles against your temples and closed your eyes; you were getting a headache. Hanging upside down off the foot of your bed certainly wasn’t helping, but you couldn’t be fucked to move at this point.

A moment of self-pity later and you opened your eyes with all intentions to get up and take your migraine medication, but you froze when you were met by a dark shape. Squinting, it took you a second to process that the shape was someone’s legs and shoes, and you let out a yelp. Startled, you went to twist yourself around to face whoever was in your room, but just managed to fall off your bed instead. You very narrowly avoided snapping your neck, landing on your shoulder instead, eliciting yet another yelp, but this time one of pain.

Scrambling to your feet, you were now face to face with the intruder. It was a man, younger, maybe around your age, donned in all black. Black shoes, black slacks, black suit jacket, and black vest underneath that was buttoned but with a neckline cut plenty low enough to show a good expanse of his chest. He had an eerie beauty to him: his face just bordering on gaunt with pronounced cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a hint of bags under his eyes as if he had just woken up from a night of restless sleep. But he didn’t seem to have recently awoken, very much alert and well put-together in every other aspect. His black hair was perfectly styled back from his face save for one stray lock towards the middle, and his eyes were so dark they reminded you of black holes, threatening to sweep you away forever into a cold unknown. He had more piercings than you could count in the moment, silver and the odd jewel adorning his ears. The vest showed off four or five separate silver chains around his neck.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” You breathed out, desperately trying to blink away the vertigo from your sudden change in orientation.

The man was between you and the doorway, his body language not indicating that he was blocking your way out intentionally. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his pants as he cocked an eyebrow up at your question. He seemed entirely relaxed and yet the air around you still felt as if it were growing colder by the second.

“I should be asking you that. What the hell am I doing in your apartment?” He repeated your question back to you, amusement in his tone as he studied you from head to toe, then back up.

“What?”

“I was summoned by someone. I’m not summoned often, usually Eros or Aphrodite are at the beck and call of humans.”

The names made your head spin, “Eros? Aphrodite? Like, the Greek gods?”

“Yes, of course.” One of his hands left his pocket, the many rings along his fingers glistening in your ceiling fan lights as he went to push the stray lock of hair back from his face. “Humans are always wishing for love or beauty or fame. Not as often are they wishing for my gifts, or at least not with such an intensity that I’m inclined to entertain those wishes.”

Something about his candor inclined you to ask, “Who are you?”

“I’ve had a couple names. Pluto, and you probably recognize me as Hades. But you can call me Jaemin.”

His words made your heart thunder in your chest once again. You wanted to tell yourself that this guy was crazy, but he sounded so assured and calm that it gave you pause. Not mention that he had just appeared in your home out of nowhere.

“Hades? God of the Underworld? In my apartment?”

“The very same. Please, call me Jaemin. As long as I can call you Y/N.”

“Oh, you know my name already,” you stated weakly.

The god’s—Jaemin’s—eyes continued to stare you down. It felt like he was looking into your soul. And you wanted him to.

“I didn’t summon you,” you told him cautiously. “Or at least I didn’t try to.”

He took a step towards you. “And yet here I am.”

Another step. “I was brought here by a desire, your desire. So, what do you really, really want, Y/N?”

His words dripped off his tongue and wound their way through your mind. “A loved one back from the dead? The death of an enemy? To die yourself? So much money you could never spend it all in one lifetime?”

Another step.

“No, none of those,” you shook your head vigorously, feeling like every sense of yours was alight with his proximity to you. Every sound was deafening, your skin tingled, and the scent of cinnamon and citrus danced around you. One more step and he’d practically be on top of you. “I don’t want any of that.”

Another step. He was right in front of you now, his startlingly cool breath washing over your face as he asked, “Then what do you want?”

“I just—” your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, fingernails digging into your palms as you struggled to find the words. “Want to work at Kim & Moon.”

Jaemin’s head cocked to the side as he studied your face, “Why?”

“It’s the best civil law firm in the city. I know it’s where I belong, if I could just get a job there, I know I’d do well.”

“This job? Does it pay well?”

“I-I don’t know,” you confessed. “Jeno hasn’t ever told me how much he makes, but that’s only part of why I want to work there. If all I cared about was paying my bills, I would’ve taken the first job at any sleazy ambulance chaser’s office I could find. But I’d be wasted on something like that. I’m smart, well-studied, and I’ll be good at what I do. I just know it.”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, I like that.”

Then all at once, Jaemin was no longer in front of you, and you felt like you could breathe properly again. He dropped himself onto your bed, settling in to recline leisurely against your headboard, legs crossed at the ankle.

“Alright, I’ll grant your wish,” he declared, slipping one of his rings off to roll it along his knuckles. The silver band caught the light and nearly distracted you from his words.

Pulling yourself out of your momentary trance, you immediately said, “But I didn’t ask you to—”

“Of course you did, or I wouldn’t be here. Do we really have to go through this again?” His eyes were fixed on the ring. “Now do you want that job or not?”

“If I say yes, what do you want in return? I doubt Hades himself is in the business of charity.”

“Smart. There will be an exchange, obviously.”

“Then my answer is no, I don’t want to be selling my soul or something.”

Jaemin suddenly flicked the ring up, watching as it did one, two, three flips in the air before landing in the palm of his hand, “As lovely as I’m sure your soul is, I’m not particularly interested in taking it.”

“Well then what would you want from me?”

“A third of your life.” He said it simply, as if you two were talking about him borrowing a cup of sugar, not your life.

“Wh—”

“Let me finish,” he instructed sternly, firm gaze once again on you. “Spend two-thirds of your year here, then spend the remaining third of it with me.”

“If I take four months off work I won't be able to keep the job you get me.”

“It doesn’t have to be consecutive. Give me your nights and I’ll call it even.”

“Why? Why me? Why would you give me so much for just… hanging out with you?”

He shrugged, “I’m tired of spending all my time with dead people.”

Despite his casual tone, you swore you saw something much sadder flash across his face for a moment. It was gone as soon as you had registered it, making you wonder if you just imagined it. When you remained quiet, chewing on the inside of your cheek in thought, he stood up and crossed the room to once again stop just a mere inch or two in front of you, “Do we have a deal, Y/N?”

A chance to use your degree and skills like you’d always dreamed, just for hanging out with a god every night? It sounded... not quite too good to be true, but definitely too easy. You couldn’t remember Hades being portrayed as a tricksy sort in the myths, and everything Jaemin had done tonight—aside from appearing in your room out of the blue—made you think that you could probably trust him.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed, looking up from where you had been twiddling your thumbs anxiously to his hauntingly beautiful face. “Do we have to do anything to make the deal official or whatever?”

“What, like a kiss?” He grinned at you mischievously. “Since you asked…”

“Jaemin!” You scoffed, feeling like he was teasing you now.

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Anyway, a handshake will do just fine,” Jaemin held his right hand out in the small space between your bodies.

You took it, feeling the cold from his fingers seep into your own, and gave it one firm shake. Before you could take your hand back, he’d tightened his grip and turned it over. His other hand came up to slip a ring onto your ring finger. It was the same silver band he had been playing with before, and it magically changed size to fit your finger perfectly. Jaemin bowed slightly, bringing your hand up to press a feather-light kiss to the knuckle of the very finger he’d just put the ring on. His lips were cool like the rest of him, but you still felt warm at his actions.

“There,” he straightened back up and let go of your hand finally. “That should do it.”

You looked down at the ring he’d just put on your finger. It was a simple silver band of medium width that reminded you of your father’s wedding band.

“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”

“Yeah—” you cut yourself off when you brought your eyes up to see that Jaemin was gone. Staring at the empty space where he just was, you murmured, “Bye, Jaemin.”

That night you dreamt of a man cloaked in shadows guiding you to a tree, instructing you to pick the golden fruit that was growing on it. You gazed at the fruit, in a daze, mesmerized by their beauty. They were so inviting, the man’s voice soothing, and you lifted a hand up towards one.

You groaned against the bright sunlight streaming in through a crack between your curtains. Directly on your face. You threw your left arm over your eyes to block it out as you continued lying in bed, letting your mind and body wake up gradually.

Memories of last night’s visitor came back to you, and you sighed. Surely it was a dream. A weird, weird dream that your mind conjured up in an attempt to fulfill your wish for a job.

But when you squinted your eyes open and brought your right hand up enough to look at your fingers, the silver band that sat there let you know that it was real. You’d been visited last night, by Hades, who said he’d grant your wish for a job in exchange for a third of your life. And you said yes.

The loud sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand prompted you to roll over and grab it to look at the caller ID. Lee Jeno.

“Yeah?” You couldn’t even muster up a proper greeting as you picked up, still bogged down by sleep.

“Y/N, great news!”

You glanced at the time on your phone before bringing it back up to your ear, “Jeno, it’s not even 9:30 a.m., why are you calling me? You can’t be on lunch.”

“I know, but as soon as I heard, I had to tell you!”

“Tell me what, exactly?”

“There’s a job opening at the firm! You have to apply!”

That woke you up.

“An opening?” You asked, shooting up into a sitting position.

“Jo Haseul, the junior partner at the firm I’ve been telling you about, her paralegal won the lottery and quit on the spot. No two weeks’ notice, they’re urgently hiring her replacement. I’ll text you the firm administrator’s email for you to send your résumé to!”

“That would be great, thank you, Jeno.”

“Of course!” He said brightly as another phone began ringing in the background. “I’ve got to go now, Ms. Kang is buzzing me.”

“Right, thank you again.”

“Bye!”

“Bye,” you brought your phone down to see he had already ended the call.

As you went to grab your laptop from the foot of your bed to begin drafting that email, your eyes got caught by the silver ring on your hand.

A week later and you were walking into your first day of work at Kim & Moon. The firm administrator, Jeong Jaehyun, was showing you around, and finally stopped his tour in an open-floor plan portion of the office where a grouping of eight desks were. A couple of them were empty, the others filled by various men and women hard at work, and also Lee Jeno.

“Y/N!” Jeno waved at you enthusiastically from where he was on the other side of all the desks, and you lifted your hand to give a small wave back.

“Oh, you know Lee Jeno?” Mr. Jeong asked as he guided you over towards your friend.

“Yes, we were in the same undergrad program.”

“Good, it should be easier to settle in with a familiar face nearby.” The administrator smiled as he gestured to the empty desk behind your friend. The one beside it was occupied by another young man incredibly focused on his screen, headphones in as his fingers flitted over his keyboard and he fervently typed out a court document.

“This is your desk, Ms. Y/L/N. Ms. Jo, your attorney, is on a call right now but she has been informed of your arrival. I’m sure she’ll meet with you when she can. In the meantime, please acquaint yourself with your workspace. Your computer is already logged in, and all of your passwords are on the paper right there. Is there anything you need at the moment?”

“No, no. Thank you so much, Mr. Jeong,” you bowed your head politely to him.

“Of course. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” He pointed to the landline sitting on your desk next to the computer monitors, “I have a quick-dial button right next to Reception’s. Buzz me if you need something.”

“I will, thank you.”

And with that, Jeong Jaehyun took his leave of the pod that you were in. You sat in your chair, taking in the sparse supplies on your desk: two computer monitors, keyboard, mouse, a landline phone, a couple pens, and one sheet of paper laid across your keyboard. It was a list of your login credentials for your computer, work email, and the firm’s file management software, along with Mr. Jeong’s extension and quick-dial button name.

You turned back around to where you knew Jeno was already waiting for you. Your friend was practically vibrating with excitement in his own desk chair.

“This is so exciting!” Jeno exclaimed, momentarily drawing the attention of all the other employees in your vicinity before they went back to whatever they were doing. He continued on much quieter, “I told you you’d kill it at your interview.”

“Right,” you nodded, trying not to think about the silver ring on your right hand. “Thanks, Jeno, I’m excited to start.”

“I’ll give you the rundown of everyone at the firm, come here,” he scooted his chair over to make room for you to roll yours up to his desk.

His fingers quickly flitted across his keyboard and mouse to pull up the firm website. Hovering over the tab labeled ‘Our Attorneys,’ you saw a list of names drop down. He clicked on the first one, Kim Chaeyoung. It pulled up a profile, the picture showing a very determined older woman, her arms crossed over her chest as she very resolutely stared down the camera.

“This is Kim Chaeyoung, the ‘Kim’ in Kim & Moon. She’s the most senior attorney at the firm, and mostly does corporate compliance and medical malpractice law. She just stepped down from being managing partner at the end of last year.”

He clicked the next name on the list, Moon Taeil. This time a man was on your screen, a bit older than you, but not by too much. No more than ten or fifteen years for sure, quite young to be a managing partner at such a large firm. His gaze wasn’t quite as intense as Kim Chaeyoung’s, but it held an intelligence and wisdom clearly beyond his years.

“Mrs. Kim stepped down to let this man, Moon Taeil, take over as managing partner. Something about wanting younger blood in charge but…” Jeno looked around the pod before he dropped his voice to a whisper so soft you had to lean in to hear him, “The rumor is that Mrs. Kim is going to announce her retirement at the holiday party at the end of this year.”

“And what sort of law does Mr. Moon do?” You questioned.

“Mostly insurance litigation. He tends to get the nastier incidents though: shootings, stabbings, fires, the odd dog bite.”

You then went through the senior partners before getting to the first of the junior partners on the list.

“And here is Jo Haseul, your attorney. She’s the most senior of the junior partners, and rumors also say that she’s going to be made a senior partner by the end of this year.”

“You love your office gossip, don’t you?”

You studied the woman on screen. She was younger than you had expected, a fierceness in her eyes that both intimidated you and inspired you to follow her wherever she led.

“This isn’t even the juicy stuff, wait until you hear about the affair Mr. Noh supposedly had with his assistant in the 80s,” Jeno scoffed, then turned his attention back to the woman on screen. “Anyway, Ms. Haseul is Mrs. Kim’s protégé. She mostly does general corporate matters, medical malpractice, and the occasional pro bono representation for women in need. Restraining orders, child custody, divorce, whatever comes in the door. If you really want to get to know her, ask about those cases.”

“She sounds incredible.”

“I told you you’d be perfect for each other.” Your friend then pulled up the next junior partner, “This is Kim Doyoung, he’s Mrs. Kim’s son but you’d never be able to tell by how they act around each other. All business. I think he doesn’t want people to assume he only got his position because of his mother, but nobody who has actually spoken to Mrs. Kim would ever think she’d do something like that. She’s got some serious integrity.”

Jeno was about to move on to the next attorney profile, a ‘Qian Kun,’ when you heard a ringing from behind you.

“Oh, that’s you, Y/N!”

You quickly wheeled yourself back over to your desk, picking up your desk phone after the third ring, “Y/L/N Y/N speaking.”

“Ms. Y/L/N,” a woman’s voice was on the other end, and when you glanced at the caller ID, you saw ‘Jo Haseul’ across the screen. “This is Jo Haseul. Please come to my office now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m down the hall. Ask another assistant if you need help finding it.”

“Will do, thank you.”

She hung up, and you rushed to stand up. Grabbing one of the pens you saw earlier, you frantically scanned for a notepad to write with, but there wasn’t one on hand at your desk. You whipped around to face your friend, “Jeno, do you have a notepad I can use? Ms. Haseul wants to see me.”

“Here,” he handed you a notepad slightly bigger than your hand, spiral-bound at the top.

“Thank you!”

“The attorney offices are down that hall,” he pointed. “And Ms. Haseul’s will be on your left.”

“Got it, thanks!” You hurried in the direction he gestured.

Thankfully, everyone’s names were engraved on metal nameplates on the doors, making it easy to know when you had stopped in front of your attorney’s. Rapping your knuckles against the wood, you waited for a response.

“Come in.”

You entered already bowing, “Y/L/N Y/N, ma’am. It’s an honor to be here and I am very grateful for the opportunity to work with you.”

Jo Haseul appraised you for a moment from where she was sat behind her desk. She then nodded, “It’s nice to meet you. Now please sit, Y/L/N.”

“Yes ma’am,” you quickly sat in the armchair she had gestured to.

After brief introductions, Ms. Haseul gave you the rundown of the kinds of cases she tended to deal with—which generally lined up with what Jeno had told you earlier, her management style, workflow, and an overview of the duties you’ll be expected to fulfill as her paralegal. At the end of it, you left with pages of notes, a stack of papers in your arms, and your first tasks to do for her.

Stopping at your desk, you didn’t even sit as you organized the papers into three stacks: to correct, to file, and to copy. You picked up the last stack of things that Ms. Haseul wanted copies of, then turned to your friend, “Hey, Jeno, where’s the copier?”

The assistant sat at the desk beside yours was the one who spoke up in response, his headphones set aside now, “Oh, I’m going there right now, I’ll show you!”

“Thanks, Yangyang,” Jeno said, then nodded for you to go along with the other man.

Yangyang grabbed his own paper before leading the way out from the desks. He took off in the opposite direction from the offices down a different hallway, “It’s down this hall, first door on the right.” He then opened said door to reveal a room with four large copy machines in it.

“I’m Liu Yangyang, by the way,” your coworker introduced himself, stopping in front of one machine. “I’m Qian Kun and Dong Sicheng’s legal assistant. They’re Ms. Haseul’s associate attorneys that work under her so you and I will overlap quite a bit. Sicheng usually handles corporate matters with Ms. Haseul while Kun does the med mal portion.”

“I’m Y/L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Yangyang.”

“You too, Y/N. And I’m sure you’ll meet my attorneys at some point today. I apologize in advance, and yes, they are always like that. Kun’s a workaholic who would be here until two in the morning if somebody didn’t send him home, and Sicheng… you are allowed to say no to him, and I encourage it, actually. Booksmart but doesn’t quite get social cues. I’ve seen him accidentally sweet talk his way into having an assistant pick up his dry cleaning before.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I had to intervene to ensure feminism wasn’t set back fifty years,” Yangyang scoffed.

“Women everywhere commend you for your service to the cause, Yangyang,” you nodded solemnly, to which your coworker snickered.

“The dude’s wicked smart but dumber than a box of rocks. Associates, you know?” He shook his head then returned to instructing you about the machine.

After Yangyang had shown you how to use the multipurpose machine—scanning and uploading, printing, copying, faxing—he took the copies that he had made and left you there. Nobody was at the other copiers, making you the only one in the room. You took a deep breath to compose yourself after having so much information thrown at you from all sides. Right now, at this moment, all you needed to do was make a copy.

Putting the first document in where Yangyang had shown you, you’d just started tapping the touchscreen through to the copying option when a dark figure appeared at the edge of your vision. Your head snapped up to look at the man leaning against the wall beside the copy machine you were at.

You hadn’t seen Jaemin since the night you’d made your deal. You’d spent the entire next night anxiously waiting for him to appear, but he never did, and you eventually gave up and fell asleep. He didn’t come any night after that, and you kind of thought he might’ve forgotten about you, or maybe didn’t really want you to hold up your end of the deal. Realized that he could find better company than you.

But here he was, in your workplace, smirk on his face and delight in his tone, “Surprise! I came to visit you on your first day of work. I’m so proud!”

First rolling your eyes at the sarcasm in his words and the fake tear he wiped away, you then fervently glanced towards the door to the copy room, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m checking on my investment,” he answered coolly.

“What, me? You can check on me at my home tonight, not at my job on my first day of work! Somebody could walk in, how would I explain you?”

“Nobody’s coming.”

“The deal was that I would give you my nights. Sun’s still up.”

“Yes, you’re doing just fine,” he nodded as he adjusted his black tie, seeming satisfied with his ‘check in.’ “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

And he was gone in the blink of an eye.

You immediately flopped down onto your couch when you got home that night. That was the most work you’d done in a while; you were tired both physically and mentally. But it was a good sort of tired. You finally had a job.

“Hi, honey, how was work?”

You shot up at the voice, knowing exactly who it was. Jaemin was poised in your armchair, half a smirk already on his lips. He was in all-black again, though a slightly different suit from last time, his slacks and suit jacket had thin dark grey pinstripes, over a black silk dress shirt with the top three buttons open.

“Oh, uh, it was good,” you said.

Silence fell over you two, and you started fidgeting uncomfortably as it dragged on. Finally, you said, “So... what do you want to do?”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“I feel like you already know the answer to that, but no. I just got home.”

“Let’s get dinner then. Where would you like to go?”

“Uhm...” you wracked your brain for some places nearby. “There’s a ramen place down the street. Let me change out of my work clothes first, hold on.”

Re-emerging from your bedroom in more casual clothes, you saw that Jaemin had moved from his spot on your armchair and was instead standing, gazing out the window. And again, for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn he looked... lonely.

“I’m ready,” you announced yourself. It felt wrong to keep looking at him like that.

Jaemin turned around, focusing a dazzling smile on you, “Lead the way, Y/N.”

The place you were thinking of really was just a couple blocks down the street. Mumbling a thanks to Jaemin as he held the door open for you, you were immediately met with a packed restaurant. It was seat-yourself, and you managed to spot a small table for two in the very back corner, right beside the entrance to the kitchen. Guiding Jaemin over to it, you felt your face turn warm as he pulled your chair out for you.

The menu was a singular piece of laminated paper taped to the tabletop, and your eyes skimmed it. You ordered the same thing every time at this point, but it was something to look at other than the god in front of you. Speaking of, he was a god. Did he even need to eat?

“Jaemin.” You said his name as you looked up from the menu.

His eyes flicked up from where they’d also been reading the options, “Hm?”

“Do you even eat, like, normal food?”

“I can if I want to, I just don’t need it to survive like you do.”

“Oh, I see. And do you... like it?”

“Quite.”

It was then that a familiar waiter came up to your table, “Hi, Y/N! It’s been a while. Almost didn’t recognize you at a table instead of the bar.”

Typically, you would come by yourself and sit at the bartop to eat alone alongside all the other solo patrons. You rolled your eyes at the slight jab, “Thank you, Chenle, I feel so welcome.”

“Aw, you know you’re one of my favorite regulars,” the young man snickered.

“Yeah, whatever. Sorry I haven’t been by lately, I didn’t exactly have the funds to eat out.”

“That’s okay. But you’re back, does that mean that you found a job?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Congrats!” He then focused his attention on the man across from you, “Hi, I’m Zhong Chenle.”

You moved to introduce the two before Jaemin could open his mouth, afraid of what he would’ve said. “Chenle, this is Jaemin, a... friend of mine. Jaemin, this is Chenle, he’s a server here.”

“And I’ll be serving you two tonight. So, what can I get you?”

After taking your orders, Chenle took off to put them in. You shifted in your seat awkwardly. What were you and Jaemin even supposed to talk about?

“You usually sit at the bar?” Jaemin questioned.

“I’m not an alcoholic, despite how Chenle made it sound,” you scoffed. “I usually come by myself, and the bar is the quickest place to get your food and get out. And that way I don’t take up any tables that groups can use.”

“I feel honored that you brought me here, then.”

You searched his face for any hint that he was teasing you, but all you found was sincere curiosity. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, you changed the topic, “So why did you show up tonight? You didn’t come all last week.”

“Well, I had to hold up my end of the deal first.”

“Right, that... makes sense.” Realizing that you hadn’t even thanked him for whatever he’d done for you, you added, “Thank you, Jaemin. For you know, the job.”

“You’re welcome.”

Chenle returned then with a small bottle of soju for each of you, informing you that your food would be ready soon.

“So is it everything you’d dreamed of? Working at Kim & Moon?” Jaemin asked before lifting his bottle to his lips.

“Today was only my first day but... yes. I’ve already learned a lot, was listened to when I spoke, and the partner I work for seems like an incredible woman so far. It’s wonderful.”

“I hope it stays that wonderful for you, Y/N. I’d like to see your eyes light up like this often.”

Looking down at the green bottle in front of you, you twisted your ring around your finger nervously. You didn’t know what to say back, your heart fluttering around in your chest. Jaemin was charming, too charming for your own good, and you sort of felt like you really shouldn’t have expected any less from a god.

“Are you curious?”

You snapped your head up to look at your companion, not even attempting to hide your confusion at his words, “About what?”

“What I did, to get you the job.”

“I mean, I am. I assume you had something to do with Yejin winning the lottery? You’re the god of everything below the Earth, including precious gems, gold, silver. The god of riches, wealth. In the modern day that would translate to how we view wealth and riches now, since I’m not really out here buying my groceries with rubies and gold coins. Right?”

Jaemin’s obsidian eyes practically glittered as he listened to you speak, his lips curling up at one corner before he took another swig of his soju. When you were finished, he set the bottle back onto the table to answer your question, “Hit the nail on the head.”

“Honestly, I’m just glad you did that instead of killing her or something horrible.”

His head jerked back as he looked at you with bewilderment, “Now why would I do that? I’m the god of the dead, not death. If you wanted her dead you’re talking to the wrong deity.”

“I don’t want her dead, that’s my point. That’s what Jeno was joking about on the phone before you showed up; I didn’t want you to get any ideas.”

“I don’t really find it fun to just push people into traffic.”

“So you were listening to—” You cut yourself off as you saw Chenle approaching with your food. Not a conversation to be having in front of your normal human waiter.

After he had left your table again, you returned to what you were saying before, “So you were listening to our conversation.”

“Can’t help myself, I’m nosy when it comes to the humans who summon me,” Jaemin admitted.

“So what does Hades do for fun then?” You asked lightheartedly, slurping at some of your broth.

“While I don’t necessarily enjoy pushing people into traffic, I do find it much more fun to let a human become suddenly awash with money and watch what happens when they eventually lose it all. See what they spend it on, who they spend it on. Themselves mostly, sometimes others, trying to get people to be their friends or lovers simply because of what they’ll buy them. I’ll watch them do what humans do best, use and abuse the gifts that were given to them. And then once they’ve been sucked dry both in their finances and their souls, find out how they try to move on.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?” You set your spoon down, voice wavering. “Watching and waiting for me to end up like that?”

Jaemin took a pause, shifting forward in his seat before responding, “One of my favorite things about humans is how resilient you are. Always trying to bounce back. It’s fascinating to find out your breaking point, when you have no more bounce left.”

An absolutely devilish smile played across his features as he seemed to take delight in the notion. He didn’t exactly answer your question, but the lack thereof felt like enough.

“Why?”

“Because it’s different for every person, and always further than I think it’ll be. Even after so long, knowing that humans can still surprise me, it’s refreshing. Makes me think that…”

You blinked at him, waiting for him to finish. He was definitely well aware that he had your rapt attention, basking in the drama he had created by pausing. His eyes settled on you firmly, holding eye contact as something softer entered them.

“Maybe you’ll surprise me, too.”

Jaemin came back to your apartment with you after you’d decided you were full. You hadn’t had much of an appetite after that harrowing conversation over dinner, and he’d left you with a lot of thinking to do. It wasn’t every day that you heard a god’s perspective on human lives—on toying with human lives, watching for their eventual breakdown in the aftermath of the ‘gifts’ he gave them. If that’s what it did to them all, it seemed much more like a curse to you.

And you were of course thinking about whether it would happen to you too. You hadn’t wished for riches or wealth directly, definitely not so much that it would have the same effect on your life as winning the lottery. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t worried. And the idea of Jaemin watching you every step of the way, waiting to see when you’d slip up, when you’d meet your breaking point, made you shiver instinctually.

“Are you cold?” Jaemin’s question broke the silence that had been hovering over you two since you started the walk from the restaurant back to your apartment.

“Oh, no, I—”

But he had already shrugged his suit jacket off and laid it over your shoulders. There was no residual body heat in it, but it did help block out some of the breeze blowing past you. You hadn’t noticed the temperature at all, too wrapped up in your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” you muttered, wrapping the jacket tighter around your shoulders. It smelled faintly of spiced citrus.

“No worries.”

Back in your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to lay in bed staring up at your ceiling as you gave yourself over fully to the existential crisis you were descending into. But you still had a god to entertain.

A glance at the change in time on your stovetop clock let you know that you were only a couple hours into your commitment. You hoped he didn’t expect you to stay up all night with him. Leaving Jaemin in your living room once again, you changed into pajamas in your bedroom. If he was going to be with you every night from here on out, you were at least going to be comfy for some of it.

Jaemin was back in the armchair he had appeared in at the beginning of the night, one knee crossed over the other and a book in hand. You paused behind him on your way back into the living room to peer over his shoulder, trying to read the title at the top of the page he was on.

“The Turn of the Screw?” You questioned, walking around him to plop down onto your couch.

“I found it on your shelf,” he gestured to the built-in shelves in the walls around the recess that held your TV. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Knock yourself out, I haven’t touched it since I had to read it for a ghost literature class like… four years ago.”

“Ghost literature class?” Jaemin lowered the book to rest on his leg while he regarded you with an eyebrow raised. “Did you go to school in the Underworld or something?”

“It was actually called like ‘Ghost Stories and Haunted Fiction of the 19th Century’ or something. The students just called it ghost lit. We read all these spooky stories, including The Turn of the Screw,” you explained, then looked around your living room. “I have a few more of them around here somewhere. Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein— I can’t remember the full reading list, but they’re scattered around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He raised the book back up to continue reading intently.

Since he seemed occupied for the moment, you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.

A couple hours later and you let out your first yawn of the night. You’d thought that Jaemin was so enraptured by the book that he wasn’t paying any attention to you. The chuckle he gave from across the room proved you wrong, however. There was definitely nothing funny in that story. You threw him a scowl, but he neither looked up from the book nor said anything.

Shifting in your spot to get comfy again, you returned to the article that you’d been reading on your phone and your guest was quiet once again. Another yawn split your mouth, and the words on your screen swam in your vision as your eyes teared up.

“Tired, Y/N?” Jaemin’s eyes still hadn’t left the book as he continued, “You should go to sleep, early day at work tomorrow, right?”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I thought I’d finish this book, if that’s alright with you. I’ve got about… thirty, forty pages left.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you were surprised both that he was encouraging you to go to sleep during the time you’d agreed to forfeit to him, and that he wanted to finish the book.

Standing up from the couch, you shuffled into your kitchen to fill up a glass of water. After knocking back your nightly medication, you placed the water on your nightstand and went into your bathroom to do your nighttime routine. You found yourself hovering at the threshold between the hallway that contained your bedroom and bathroom, and the living room. It felt weird to just go to bed with someone else in your home, at least not without saying goodnight to them.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat.

Jaemin turned to look at you from over the back of the armchair, “Yes, Y/N?”

“I just wanted to…” you felt the words catch in your throat. Pushing through your awkwardness, you twisted the ring around your finger as you forced the words out, “Goodnight, Jaemin.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled at you before turning back around to face his book, “See you tomorrow.”

And with that, you retreated into your bedroom for the night, falling asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

The man of shadows was in your dreams again that night, drawing you to the tree with the golden fruit. His voice once more invited you to partake in picking the fruit, and your hand inched up, up, up, towards one. Your fingers had just wrapped around the fruit, ready to pluck it off the branch, when you woke up.

When you awoke the next morning, you went through the motions of your morning routine, strolling from your bathroom out to your kitchen, toothbrush sticking out of your mouth. You continued brushing your teeth with one hand as you grabbed the freshly popped toast from the toaster to put on a plate. As you went to lean over the kitchen sink to spit the toothpaste foam out of your mouth, your eyes got caught on something in the living room, which the sink overlooked. There was a small black pouch sitting on the coffee table, on the corner closest to the armchair.

After wiping your mouth off, you walked over to your coffee table, intrigue building as you picked up the velvet drawstring pouch. Looking around, you were only greeted by your empty apartment. This wasn’t here last night. Or at least, not before you went to sleep.

Pulling it open, you gently shook the contents out onto your palm. It was a silver bracelet, intricate filigree running along the band that was inlaid with gorgeous green and blue gems.

Jaemin’s words from dinner last night echoed in your head.

‘I do find it much more fun to let a human become suddenly awash with money and watch what happens when they eventually lose it all… It’s fascinating to find out your breaking point…’

A foreboding feeling colored your vision, and you rushed to tuck the bracelet back into the bag and throw it onto the table.

When Jaemin came that night, you were cooking dinner in your kitchen. He appeared there with you, leaning against the counter next to your sink as you were standing over the stovetop.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he greeted you.

“Hello, Jaemin.” You steeled your nerves, giving as nonchalant of a nod as you could towards the living room, “You left something here last night. It’s on the coffee table.”

The god regarded you with a tilted head, and you felt his eyes on your empty wrists, “That was for you.”

“I didn’t ask you for anything like that.”

“I know. It was a gift.”

“The job was plenty, Jaemin.”

He was silent as he continued to watch you cook. After a grueling couple of minutes of absolute silence, his eyes burning into you the whole time, you finally turned to properly look him in the face. Throwing on a smile, you informed him, “Dinner’s ready. Ravioli, would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

You set two places at your dinner table before plating two portions of the pasta. Jaemin was still in his place next to the sink, observing your movements.

“Go ahead and sit, I’m just going to grab a couple glasses,” you gestured towards the kitchen table.

Without even waiting to see if he’d obey, you bustled over to a cabinet and took out two wine glasses, then grabbed a bottle of white wine you’d been meaning to finish off. When you turned back to the kitchen table, you were pleasantly surprised to see Jaemin waiting there patiently, fidgeting with his silverware. Setting the two glasses down, you noticed that Jaemin’s silverware was in different places than you had put them in when you hastily set the table. The fork was on the left of the plate, the knife and spoon on the right with the knife directly beside the plate and the spoon on the other side of the knife. Yours on the other hand were in the haphazard places atop the napkin that you had put them earlier.

“Apologies for the subpar fork placement,” you said, uncorking the wine to begin pouring it out first for Jaemin.

“Oh, it’s just a habit,” he explained. His tone then turned as teasing as yours had been, “My apologies for making you think your fork placement was anything other than above par.”

You then poured for yourself as you continued the banter, “Yeah, you know, I really pride myself on my utensil arranging skills. My feelings have been gravely wounded. I’ll never recover from this.”

“Then would you consider taking this,” he procured a small black pouch from his pocket, and you had a suspicion as to exactly what was in it, “as repentance, with my sincerest apologies?”

A bitter sigh came out of your mouth at him ruining the perfectly normal moment you were enjoying, “Jaemin, I told you I don’t want any more gifts from you.”

The way you spat out the word ‘gifts’ was apparently a lightbulb moment for him as he set the pouch down on the table and all playfulness dropped from his face. Disinterested in whatever he was going to say to try to convince you to take it, you picked up your fork, using the side of the tongs to cut one of your raviolis in half.

“Y/N…” he said your name almost wistfully, leaning forward towards you earnestly. “I really do just want you to have it. It’s not a test or a ruse, just… a token.”

“A token of what?” You snorted, spearing half of the ravioli that you’d just cut and bringing it up to your mouth.

“My affection?”

You choked momentarily on the pasta in your mouth, chewing and swallowing it as quickly as possible and taking a sip of your wine to wash it down. Jaemin still hadn’t touched his food, utensils undisturbed as he waited for you to collect yourself. When you searched his face for a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, anything to indicate that he was being less than truthful, you found none. You were just met with deep open pools of black in his eyes, his mouth set in seriousness, and his hand once again holding the pouch back out to you.

“Your what?”

“I know you heard me.”

“Yes, and now I’m asking for clarification.”

“I find you fascinating, and not in the morbid kind of way like I described to you last night. I’ve found myself starting to become fond of you, and I wanted to show that to you with a… present.”

“What, like getting your puppy a new chew toy because they’re so darn cute?”

Jaemin chuckled, “Not quite. But still, will you please accept it, Y/N?”

You thought it over for another moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek. He was being sincere, you were sure of it. You’d caught brief glimpses of the kinder side to Jaemin just in the few times you’d met him: when he’d leant you his suit jacket walking home last night, telling you he was hoping you’d continue being in love with your job, the gentlemanly peck he’d left on your fingers the night you’d made your deal. And now, as he patiently awaited your answer.

“Alright,” you agreed, taking the small bag from him. “Thank you, Jaemin.”

“Thank you for letting me give it to you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Pulling the bracelet back out of the pouch, you saw that it had a hinge mechanism on it that you couldn’t manage one-handed, and held it out to the god sitting in front of you, “Will you help me put it on?”

“Of course,” he took it, opening the band up with ease.

You held your right hand out towards him, and he brought the open bracelet up around your wrist. But you weren’t watching the way his deft fingers put it on around your wrist, the tips of them brushing over the sensitive skin at your pulse point, leaving coolness behind. You were watching his face as he focused on the task intently, his brows furrowing in concentration then relaxing after the bracelet had clicked shut. A small but tender smile took over his face, his eyes softening as he turned your hand over palm down, thumb running up your ring finger until it reached the silver band that resided there.

Your skin buzzed in the wake of his touch, an electric cold. You could hear your heart thudding in your ears and hoped that he didn’t have supernatural god hearing or something and could hear it too. If he did, he gave no indication of such. He withdrew his hands, leaving you more dazed than you should’ve been at the minimal contact you had. Jerking your hand back to your side of the table, you turned your gaze down at your food, trying to ignore how hot your cheeks were.

A light laugh came from Jaemin, but you couldn’t force your eyes back up to him, knowing that his were already on you.

That night you dreamt once more of the man cast in darkness, leading you to the tree of golden fruit. This time when he encouraged you to pick one, you grasped at the fruit with two hands, pulling it right off the branch with a firm tug.

Just about one month into your… arrangement with Jaemin, you were rooting through your fridge for something to make for dinner when there was suddenly a cool breeze on the back of your neck. Except you were indoors.

Spinning around, you were immediately met with the god extremely close to you, and let out an exasperated sigh, “God damn, Jaemin, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I can’t help it if I make your heart race,” he grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart pound in a different way that it had been.

“Yeah, because you jumpscared me,” you rolled your eyes, shutting the fridge doors to then lean back against the appliance. “Anyway, it’s not looking like I have anything to make for dinner. You okay with eating out tonight?”

“More than, I was actually hoping you’d let me take you somewhere tonight.”

“Where?”

“My place. You’ve been such a gracious host this whole time, it’s time I repay the favor.”

“Your place, as in... the Underworld?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged nonchalantly, an enticing grin on his features. A grin that invited you to follow its owner to places you’d never been before. “I promise you’ll come back.”

“In one piece?”

“Of course.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued, that you hadn’t tried to picture what the Underworld looked like. All you could come up with was the standard image of hell: flames, pitchforks, eternal torture. But now you were getting an invitation to go there with Hades and come back alive.

“And I’ll be back in time to go to work in the morning?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Alright, sure,” you finally acquiesced. “I’d love to, thank you for inviting me.”

Jaemin offered his hand out to you then, and you placed your atop. He gave yours a light squeeze, “Just focus on me, Y/N. Just look in my eyes.”

“Okay?” You agreed despite your tone pitching it up into a question, unsure of why exactly he was asking you to do that.

Nevertheless, you settled your gaze on his eyes, even as he drew you in closer by the light grip on your hand. You gave him an awkward half-smile, unsure of what exactly to do as you just stared him directly in the eye. His dark eyes had a calming effect, however, as you felt your breathing even out and your heartbeat slow. This close to him, and being able to unabashedly look at him, you were entranced by the unearthly quality to his beauty. It should have been disquieting, this spectral vision in front of you, but you just found yourself drawn even closer in body and mind.

Then suddenly everything around you was darker, as if someone had dimmed your kitchen lights. The air was cooler too, and you had the suspicion that you were no longer in your kitchen. But you were still looking at Jaemin, just like you said you would.

He was looking right back at you, unflinchingly, and a fond smile crossed his lips before he announced quietly, “We’re here. You can look.”

And you finally tore your eyes from him to take in your new surroundings. It was dark, just like you’d noted before, as if it were nighttime. The room you were in had black floors, black walls, and at the very tippy top of the black vaulted ceiling, a black wrought iron chandelier with flames glowing... blue? But you couldn’t focus on the flickering up above you as Jaemin’s fingers entwined with yours and he gently tugged you towards the other side of the room.

“Come on, this way.”

It looked like you were maybe in an entrance hall of some sort. It was then that you spotted a large black throne adorned with silver detailing and embellishments at the front of the room. Jaemin kept walking right past it, though, down an adjoining hallway.

Your wide eyes that had been taking everything in turned downwards to your hand that was holding Jaemin’s. His skin was the usual coolness you had come to expect, and your fingertips brushed against the multitudes of rings on his fingers. Seeing the lone silver band on your hand, the one that he was holding, made your face hot for some reason.

You passed through another doorway into a dining room. It contained a large dining table crafted from dark walnut wood, the twelve high-back chairs around it made of the same. A deep red table runner went across the length of the tabletop, matching the upholstery of the chairs. A feast was already laid out, and place settings for two of the seats were prepared.

Jaemin let go of your hand to pull out a chair for you. You thanked him quietly as you sat down, eyes still scanning over the food options. He sat in the chair caddy-corner to yours, at the head of the table.

“Go ahead, Y/N,” Jaemin encouraged you as he reached forward to grab the bottle of wine that had been on the table as well.

“Everything looks... so good,” you said, not sure what to try first.

He uncorked the bottle, pouring the red wine into your glass first, then his. When he put the bottle down, you still hadn’t moved, too overwhelmed with all the delicious-looking choices.

“Do I need to make your plate for you?” He teased, already standing and grabbing your plate.

“This is good, you’ll probably like this one, oh you’re going to love this one, everyone likes that, mmm definitely not that,” he mumbled to himself as he loaded up your plate with food after food.

Your heart did flips as you looked up at him, the simple kindness of his actions making you feel warm despite the coolness of the Underworld.

Jaemin set your plate back down in front of you between your utensils, spoon on the far right, then the knife beside the plate, and the fork on the left. You waited for him to prepare his own plate of food, then finally be seated. When he’d finished scooting his chair up to table, he looked up from what he’d been doing, eyes catching yours, and a small, affectionate smile crossed his lips before he grabbed his wine glass. Then a wide, charismatic grin overtook his features as he held his glass out towards you, and you followed his lead, picking yours up to clink them together.

“To one month of… you and I. Thank you for agreeing to come here tonight, Y/N.”

‘You and I.’ His words both squeezed your chest and made it feel airy, like someone was inflating a balloon inside of it.

“Thank you for hosting tonight, Jaemin. And here’s to one month of…” you took a sharp inhale as you stumbled through your mind for any other word but couldn’t find one in that moment. “Us.”

You saw Jaemin’s pale lips softly, silently repeat the word before pulling into an alluring smirk.

And you each took a sip of the wine before digging into your food and kicking off the discussion. Over your month of dinners and nighttime socializing with Jaemin, you were used to your conversations meandering between the casual catching up of your workday to the serious contemplations of life and the universe. After all, if you were dining with a god, you were going to pick his brain for some philosophical inquiry. But on the days where some of the medical malpractice or domestic pro bono cases had hit you exceptionally hard and you wanted to leave well enough alone, Jaemin let you keep the topics light and surface level, keeping it at office gossip and the like.

Tonight though, with the special venue on your mind, you immediately delved into the existential, “So what are humans to you?”

“How do you mean?” Jaemin arched an eyebrow at your question.

“You’re a god. You’ve lived for thousands of years. You’ve seen millions of humans live and die. Surely, we all just kind of… blur together for you. Seem the same. Inconsequential.”

“No, not at all.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m here,” you teased before returning to your debate. “Most of us live and die without ever leaving a lasting impact on the world. Not that I think that’s necessary for having lived a meaningful or good life, I think that making even one person smile means that someone lived a good life. But in relation to you, a god, surely that makes us all indistinguishable from one another.”

“Is a play bad because it ends? Is a flower no longer beautiful because it will wilt? I think that humans and your lives are so intriguing because they’re finite.” He was as impassioned as ever when getting into your metaphysical dialogues— voice strong with resolve, leaning forward towards you earnestly, brow set just the slightest not with anger but determination, and hair falling into his onyx eyes that looked into yours without hesitation. “An incalculable but unquestionably limited amount of time, one chance, and each of you choose to live differently.”

“You still think that every human life is different from all the others?”

“Of course.” Apparently sensing that he hadn’t convinced you yet, Jaemin continued with an example, “Just look at you and your friend Jeno. Sure, the two of you converged pretty closely in college, but he made the choice to begin his career while you made the choice pursue higher education. Your two lives aren’t the same.”

“There’s also another major difference between the two of us.”

At the imploring tilt of his head, you deadpanned, “Only one of us made a deal with Hades for a third of our life.”

“An astute observation, Y/N,” Jaemin chuckled, relaxing back in his chair now that you’d changed up the tone of the conversation.

When both of your plates and glasses were empty, Jaemin took you by the hand once again to guide you from the dining room, as he apparently wanted to show you something. You emerged onto a patio of some sort, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. In front of you was a tree maybe ten or fifteen feet tall, an elegantly thin and sloping trunk, and along its many branches were round golden fruit the size of your palm. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that came from you as you took in the dazzling sight. Everything about the tree was normal from the texture of the brown bark to the dark green leaves, and even the dappling of the outer shell of the pomegranates that grew on it looked real, aside from the gilded color. It was magical, and you were happy just to know that something so beautiful existed.

“Thank you for showing me this, Jaemin,” you said, turning to look at the god who had stopped beside you.

You thought that he’d be looking at the scenery too, but his eyes were on you. He had a familiar look on his face, a small, tender smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, dark eyes holding a latent warmth like coals after a fire, and you felt tempted to get even closer to indulge in it.

But instead, you steeled your nerves to ask, “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Your tone wasn’t as accusatory as your words were, it was a sincerely curious question.

“Like what?” Jaemin was quick to reply with a question of his own, keeping his attitude light but genuine.

“You keep smiling at me with this soft little smile.”

“I keep doing it? When was I doing it before?”

“When we first got here, when you sat down at dinner tonight, and just now, when you brought me out here.” It had made your heart go haywire every time you noticed it, so you were able to list the instances from tonight off the top of your head. But that wasn’t all, there was a reason why it was imprinted into the back of your eyelids like a burned-out LCD screen, “It’s like… like… you want to kiss me.”

“I do,” Jaemin declared, eyes never leaving yours, voice never wavering, so damn sure of himself. Even as you were here in front of him feeling like you were nearly ready to rip your hair out from just a few little smiles from him.

He was always like this. So charming, so smooth, playfully talking around your questions. Pulling you along with him, dancing with you through your conversation. You had to meet him head on, even if it felt like you were going crazy doing so. You did it during your dinners, you could do it now too.

“Is that why you’re smiling at me like that?”

“Do you want me to? Kiss you?” He took a step towards you. For a brief moment he was all you could see, all dark hair, dark eyes, and silver earrings.

“I want to know why you look at me like that.” You stepped back from him, wrapped in the heady smell of his cologne. Cinnamon, bergamot, an earthy scent too maybe? Your head was swimming with it, but you needed to focus on the conversation at hand.

“And I want to know if you want me to kiss you or not.” Another step, once again narrowing the distance between you.

“I asked first, Jaemin,” you poked your pointer finger against his chest as a warning. “An answer for an answer.”

He stayed put, seeming to be fighting a delighted smirk from his face as he looked between your face and the finger you held up defensively between the two of you. Jaemin’s features relaxed as he clasped his hands together behind his back, looking into your eyes earnestly, “All of those times that I’ve been looking at you tonight, I was thinking to myself, ‘It feels like she’s come home.’ You just looked like you belonged here, in my home, with me. It felt like I belonged with you. And that made me want to kiss you. That’s why.”

Of all the answers you had been expecting, that hadn’t quite been one of them. Grand declarations of love were a faraway possibility, sure, you’d seen movies before. That’s not what this was, though. This was both more and less. You hadn’t anticipated for Hades’ answer to be so simple yet all-soul-encompassing as the idea of coming home. While everything tonight had definitely been new and unfamiliar to you, you hadn’t been intimidated or uncomfortable in any way. With Jaemin at your side, you’d been able to take it all in with wonder and an open mind, knowing that you had him right there watching over you.

“I believe you owe me an answer now too, Y/N.” Jaemin’s voice was quiet, low, meant only for you. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Your gaze fell to the finger you had to his chest, your right hand. It had lost all the force you started with, limp and simply resting against him. You could see the silver ring there, and lower on your arm was the bracelet he’d given you, both pieces of jewelry glinting in the hazy light afforded in the Underworld. You briefly wondered if they had come from here, from deep under the Earth; if they’d come home tonight, too. The god in front of you remained silent, waiting for your response. If there was one thing Jaemin was good at, it was waiting— after he’d given you his final push.

Then you finally looked back up at his face, into the sunken obsidian black that greeted you there. That ever-stubborn lock of raven hair was hanging between his brows, and you had a sudden and smitten urge to fix it. But you had something more important to do in that moment. After all, he’d given you his answer, now you owed him yours. And you’d made up your mind.

Your mouth had barely started forming around your answer before it was captured by Jaemin’s in a kiss that was equal parts tender and ravishing. It felt like he was trying to devour your ‘yes’ right off your tongue and keep it all to himself. Admittedly, your head had started nodding before your vocal cords could work.

If you thought you were swimming in spices and citrus before, you were drowning in them now. Cinnamon, oranges, and… cedar. Your hand that had previously been poking at his chest was now crumpling the collar of his dress shirt, the other hooking a finger in one of the belt loops at the front of his slacks to yank him closer. His own hands were doing their part, too. One cupped your cheek while the other held you by your waist. The sweetest nectar was being dripped into your veins, and you hungrily took more and more with each wanton kiss from Jaemin.

When his lips finally parted from yours, you couldn’t help but steal just one more kiss. He let out a breathy chuckle as he clasped a hand over the one you were grasping at his shirt with to gently pull it off, his thumb then rubbing slow circles into your palm. His hand that had been on your cheek dipped to gently grip your chin, and as he looked at you, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I’m home,” you promised.

The shadowy man was back in your dreams that night, and this time the golden fruit was already in your two hands. He was encouraging you to break it open, feed on its juicy flesh that he promises will taste so good.

You woke up before you could follow through on the decision you’d already made.

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