#also I went back while adding tags to add some more things as I was remembering

[greensun]

THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.

EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.

SOME NOTES: 1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!) 2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!). 3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people. 4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE! 5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)

I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)

HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.

CLASSPECTS

Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.

AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!

My favorites here & their reasonings are: - Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him. - Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol. - Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny. - BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs. - Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here. - Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo - Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player. - Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way. - Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me. - Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player. - Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page. - Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.

One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.

DREAMING MOONS

I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.

Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.

Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.

The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.

Server/Client Orders & Session Chains

If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.

For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server

The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is

Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)

BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)

Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.

The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is

Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)

As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.

The final chain is the French closed session. It goes

Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)

They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.

LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS

Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.

The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.

I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.

The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.

This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.

Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are - The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session. - The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10. - The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.

I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.

Denizeggs

With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.

All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.

And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.

The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.

Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.

BRAZIL! 🇧🇷

The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!

There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.

They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.

Brazilian Lands (brief edition)! - Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them. - Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead - Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept. - Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style. - Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.

RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.

Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.

French

The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.

Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.

While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.

French Planets (Brief Edition) - Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs. - Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here. - Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it. - Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more. - Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.

POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.

The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.

GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story

THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.

Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.

Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.

After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.

Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.

Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.

THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.

Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.

Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.

Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).

AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.

Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.

Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.

Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.

AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.

Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.

Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.

At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.

DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.

Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.

Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.

Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.

Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)

It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!

qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog

#qsmp #qsmpstuck #qsmp au #qsmp homestuck au #mcytstuck

[randomperson3736]

It's all my fault

Paring(s): Lo'ak x twin! Reader, Neteyam x sister! Reader, Neytiri x daughter! Reader, Jake sully x daughter! Reader, Tuk x sister! Reader, Kiri x sister! Reader, the sully's x reader

Genre: angst, kinda fluff

Warning(s): Character death, wounds, blood, crying, sad, fighting, get punched, swearing

Word bank: Y/N- your name, Ewya- great Mother

Notes: I am so sorry that this has taken so long for me to write/post and the reason for it is because I've been having some trouble finding ideas on how this part 2 is gonna go but thankfully I found some and I really hope u enjoy. Also I put a link to part 1 if Ur new to this mini series. P.S it was kinda rushed so it may suck.

(Listen to this while reading)👇👇👇

Part 1

TAG LIST: @sully-stick-together , @users09, @bobojojoba69 ---- I am so sorry I couldn't add some of the people who asked to be added 🙏

Y/N ran for what felt like forever, even though in reality it was just a few minutes. Tears stained her face but she didn't care about that since more kept rolling down from her yellow eyes. Her heart was pumping in chest, shallow breaths could be heard. She tripped on a fallen tree branch, her body trembling to the floor. Y/N didn't bother getting up, so she just curled up into a ball and sobbed. She thought back to the earlier event with Lo'ak. Never in her whole life had she seen him so angry, and never has he ever snapped at her once not even when she was annoying.

She felt like she had pushed too hard on him but deep deep down she knew it wasn't his fault, it was his. Soon her red, puffy eyes started to close as sleep took very quickly. Y/N could hear the soft breeze flowing though the trees and brushes, it also tickled her skin as her neck hairs stood up. But little did the young girl knew a massive Strom was coming and it wasn't just any ordinary Strom, this Strom started long before any one of her siblings were born this Strom has been going on for a long time. And it was ready for its revenge.

~timeskip~

Lo'ak didn't know where his twin was, no one did. His mother and Neteyam had been looking for her for atleast 2 hours and there has been no sign of her anywhere. Worry and guilt started to fill his stomach as his mind conjured up the worst case scenario. Her dead. Non-breathing Unmoving. Her blood everywhere. He tried to shake that thought off but it was still there lingering around the back of his mind.

In the background, he could hear Tuk crying as Kiri tried to comfort her but he knew she needed to be comfort juts as much. He knew it was his fault. He knew what he did was wrong and that he shouldn't have done it. He knew he needed to find her cause somewhere deep down in his stomach he knew where he was. So he slipped away making sure no one saw him as he ran off into the forest to find his twin.

~back to Y/N~

When she woke up again, she hadn't realised how long she had been asleep. Y/N didn't even know where she was. Suddenly large hands grabbed her, pulling her roughly up on her feet. She tried to scream but before she could cold metal touched her skin.

"You so much as scream or yell out for help... I'll blow your brains out" his voice was deep, sounded like he had no soul. Y/N just nodded not wanting to provoking him and possibly getting killed. She looked up to see atleast a glimpse of her so called kidnapper. She noticed the human like clothing he was wearing. He was an avatar. Probably from her father's past. She just hoped her father and mother or someone would find her before it becomes too late. But she knew that if someone didn't find her in time the worse will happen. So, she did the most stupid thing she has ever done. She bit down on his arm, hard. Very hard. The guy yelled out in pain before he turned around to face her. "You fucking bitch!"

The next thing she knew a loud bang could be heard and then everything went black.

~back to Lo'ak~

He could hear someone yelling in the distance, sounded human? He been in contact with fake Na'vi before and he definitely didn't like them. Lo'ak pulled at his knife, grip tight around it. He prayed to Ewya that Y/N was okay, she had to be, she needed to be. He couldn't lose her. She was the only one who understood him and never thought of him as a fake.

*BANG*

His head moved towards the direction of the loud bang, his briads covering his eye. His heart was beating so fast and so hard against his chest he thought it was going to pop out. He started to run towards the danger not caring about the out come he just needed to know that his twin, his ride or die wasn't at the end of that bullet.

A body soon came in view, it seemed to be covered in blood. As he got closer he finally saw who that body belong to. It was Y/N. His twin. His best friend. Tears started to form in his eyes as he pushed his legs faster. Faster to get to her. Faster to make sure she's live and not dead.

"Y/N!" Lo'ak's voice was shaking, fear feeling his stomach. He dropped om to his knees hard. Probably gonna leave a couple cuts on it but he didn't care all he cared about is her. "L-lo'ak?" Her was so quite, also like a whisper. He carefully moved her head onto his lap, making sure to put pressure on the gun shot wound on her lower abdomen. She let out a pained sob as more pain shot through her body. "Sorry, sorry. I know it hurts but I have to put pressure on it"

Y/N just started up at him still trying to process what happened just a few minutes ago. Her eyes slowly started to feel heavy but she tried to fight it just for a little longer. "Keep your eyes open" he spoke sternly, panting as he desperately spoke to her. Fixing his hand on her bleeding wound to try and stop the blood from leaving her body. Not once had she seen him look so vulnerable, so desperate. "Stay with me, don't-don't close your eyes" his voice was laced with something unfamiliar, a tone which Y/N had never from him before. Desperation was it? No, it was something more, something more painful.

"Y/N damn it" he cursed under his breath, holding her limp body now on his lap. His voice now filled with panic, "Please" that one word. That very word seemed to be so much more painful than the wound on her stomach, was it his tone? Was it the way he said it? Or was it the way his eyes looked, the way his eyes stained with tears.

Y/N could barely think, but everything looked clear despite the tears that clouded her eyes. The pain in her heart was greater than the pain from her stomach. Y/N wasn't ready, she wasn't ready to leave him, not ready to leave her family, not when she still had so much to live for. "Lo'ak" her weak voice called out for him. Perhaps his mind was playing a trick on him but he saw that same old smile om her face, a weak smile but it was still the same. "No" he cuts Y/N off, he couldn't hear what she was about to say, he refused to. Lo'ak knew exactly what she was planning in saying and he's far from accepting it. "Save your energy, don't-"

"I'm sorry, L-lo'ak"

"Y/N you can't, I can't" tears started to fall faster down his face now. "I'm the one who should be sorry, you have nothing-" Y/N cut him off by placing her hand on his cheek, wiping the tears that slipped away. "No. You don't have to apologise, Lo'ak" he cried quietly, but he felt everything all at once at that moment. Nuzzling his face into her now cold hand, weeping uncontrollably, no caring about who saw. "I can't do this without you. I-i'm so sorry about yelling at you, I d-didn't mean too just please don't leave me"

"Y/N please" he pleads, but he knew she was growing more weak by the clock. "Lo'ak. Y-you have to let me go" her hand slipped from his face as her eyes relaxed as her pupils widened, the blood stopped gushing out from the wound on her stomach and her heart stopped just as her chest went flat with her very last breath. "Y/N?" He looked down at her now limp body. "Y/N?! NO, NO, NO! PLEASE!" Lo'ak let out a pained scream, a scream that could be heard from the village. That scream got the attention of his family, making them run off into a sprint trying to find the source of the pained scream.

Neteyam and Jake were the first ones on scene and the site in front of them made their whole worlds come crashing down in one blow. Jake's body went numb, his expressen was emotionless, but his eyes told another story as tears rolled down his face. He started at his daughter, he couldn't except the fact that his babygirl was gone for good. He could hear his family's sobs from beside him, as he watched Lo'ak pulled his twin closer to his chest begging for some sort of sign that she was still alive but he knew that she was with Ewya now. "Y/N NO PELASE! OH, GREAT MOTHER PLEASE!" Lo'ak's voice was scratchy, shouting Y/N's name over and over again. His sobs were loud and controllable, he cried out for their great Mother begging her to bring his twin back. But deep down he knew she was never coming back. Neytiri moved closer to their son and fallen daughter, taking her limp hand into her own trying to find that familiar warmth that was always there but it cold.

Neteyam moved to sit next to Lo'ak with Y/N's unmoving body still in his lap. Neteyam knew that he and thier father had to move her body but he was frozen in place. He couldn't process it, no one could. He watched his father moved slowly towards Lo'ak to try and get their sister out of his grip. But surprisingly Lo'ak let go without trying to fight it. He looked so empty, almost like a shell you find at beach. It broke Neteyam's heart to see his brother like it but he knew he couldn't do anything to help with the pain Lo'ak was feeling m.

Neteyam watches as his mother sobs and screams over their loss as his tears fall onto his little sister's thigh. He places his hand on lo'ak's shoulder trying to comfort him in some way, but he knew that even himself couldn't stop the feeling of emptiness in his heart cause he too had that exact same hole in his. Lo'ak started at his shaking hands that were covered in his twin's blood. His head tilts back as he realised he just lost his twin sister, the one person who was always there for him when he had a nightmare or when their father would yell at him. She was the one soul that never thought of him as a freak or as an outcast and now she was gone. All beacuse of him. She was died because of his stupid mistake.

~sad bonus~

(Set four weeks after Y/N's death)

Lo'ak barely slept or ate, and even if he did he would just wake up screaming or throw up the food he actully ate. Neteyam and Kiri had tried over and over again to try and get him to atleast sleep for a few hours or eat something even if it was small. But everything they tried didn't work. Lo'ak just stayed in the same stop, staring out at the ocean, not moving an inch. This concerned the whole family but they knew in time that he would heal.

After everyone had left Lo'ak tried to get some sleep knowing that Y/N wouldn't want him to do this. He smiled for the first time in weeks at the thought first her yelling at him about this is unhealthy and that he could die too young. His eyes soon fall as sleep took over his mind. When he woke up he was in a dark room with only one bit of light and under that light was a young women just around his age or maybe Neteyam's.

"Hello?" He called out to the mysterious lady but only to get ignored. Until she turned around. Lo'ak's eyes widened in shock as tears started to form. His legs started to move on their own as they walked towards her. Y/N. His beloved twin.

"Y/N"

"Don't"

"It's not your fault, Lo'ak"

"..." lo'ak looked down at his feet and stared to play with his finger, a trent he had picked up from her when she died. "You have to let me go"

"I can't- I won't hear you out"

"Lo'ak, please"

"Just- just a little bit longer. Let me hold onto you for just for little bit longer. Please" the tears he had been holding onto finally fall, rolling down his cheeks. He didn't want to let her go cause if he let her go he wouldn't be able to see her smile or hear a laugh again. "Lo'ak I'm dead. Let me go"

"No, no, no please- please don't let me leave. I need to be here with you" his voice held so much pain as his spoke. Y/N just turned her body to the face the other way and started to walk away. "Wait-" before he could get the words out a strong wing started to blow him away, pulling him back into reality once again.

Neteyam had just came back from the beach to check on Lo'ak and see if he had moved from his spot. He was just about to walk in when he heard a loud sob from inside. Without thinking Neteyam ran inside to find lo'ak gripping his chest, his breath heavy, tears rolling down his face. Neteyam felt his heart break even more from the site infront of him. He couldn't stand to see his little brother like this. None of them could.

Without thinking he moved towards Lo'ak and pulled him into his chest, hugging him tight. He shushed his brother and whispered sweet things in his ear trying to calm him down. Lo'ak just held onto his brother as he cried out for his twin to come back. But he knew she was never coming back.

#avatar way of water #fypツ #jake sully x daughter!reader #neteyam #lo'ak sully x twin! reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak #sully family x reader #kiri #tuk #jake sully #Neytiri #x reader #x twin reader #sad #Spotify

[taybatwo2]

Spelldon Monster High Custom

Once I saw that G3 Deuce had green skin, I knew I had to try my hand at making Spelldon Cauldronello. I re-haired him and flocked the sides of his head with yarn to imitate dreads. I sewed him a jacket, shirt, joggers, and socks. I made his little potions (out of beads), earrings (also out of beads), necklaces, gloves, pointed ears (I wish I could have gotten them smoother, but they were so delicate that I could not sand them without them breaking), shoes (out of paperboard and papier-mâché), and repainted his face (my first full face repaint and daaang was that difficult to try and make his eyes and eyebrows look related to one another).

He’s not perfect, but he was super fun to pose and creating him was a HUGE learning experience (like to start sealing all of my thread knots with fabric glue).

You’re more than welcome to draw fanart/make your own based on mine, just tag me- I’d love to see them. Feel free to comment what you like/dislike think I should improve on. :)

Edit: thank you for all the sweet comments in the reblogs guys. You’re all making my day. :)

More under the cut

Close ups of his left side (I like how this ear turned out the best).

And his right side. I couldn’t get this side smoothed out to save my life, haha. Hopefully his earrings distract enough from it. Keeping beads from old bracelets come in handy! These were just the right size for him. I repainted the lower earring in black, with a stripe of purple, and added silver Ancient Greek designs on either side.

One more close up of his left ear and earring (I added a purple pentagram in the center of the silver Greek designs and the color shift sparkle paint around the rim). His upper earring is the same as his right lower earring, but has an orange stripe.

His face-up took awhile, but it is very rewarding to finally give him a face. I tried to make it look like the factory g1 monster high face up and took a lot of inspiration from his older sister Casta’s pupils. I gave him darker purple eyes, with the yellow/gold zig-zags. I gave him three moles, instead of just the one that Casta has, to mix it up a little. I did take a little inspiration from G3 for his eyebrows to add some orange and purple streaks in the front and a cut in his left eyebrow (I don’t know if that is still trendy, but I think it looks cool). The eyebrows are still not super symmetrical, but I already sealed it. I went back and forth on what I wanted his lip colors to be (I know I wanted something two toned) but finally decided on a dark purple upper lip, with a green outlined lower lip.

Also G3 heads are SUPER difficult to try and reattach (and remove) and have to be VERY squishy to put back on their bodies (even after I had trimmed down the neck peg).

Okay, onto his wardrobe! I wanted to imitate Casta’s color pallet: black, orange, purple, silver (and sparkles and studs), while bringing in more “witchy” themes (the buckles, stripe socks, and pentagrams), and his scaritage from his mama Circe (hence the potions, boars on his shirt and shoes, the greek vase designs and the boar designs being black on orange -like the Ancient Greek vases). Even on the Greek designs, I put some teeny tiny pentagrams (namely on his jacket sand socks).

His jacket took the longest (his shoes were the second longest). It is fully lined (the sleeves have a white lining to keep staining to a minimum), and working pockets. I liked the sparkly material I found, but does it shed like crazy (I used it for his collar, cuffs, pockets, and the bottom of his jacket in the back, and wrong side-out for his sleeves -they still have silver sparkles showing though and it doesn’t shed…but it will catch on things). I used thin ribbon for the outside of his pockets (next time I will fabric glue the ends shut on all my ribbons and a thicker ribbon for the bottom of his coat), and bent some wire into buckles. I also used ribbon wire and looped black thread over it to make it look like a zipper. I used fabric paint for the pattern down the front and REALLY hope it stays on there.

I really wanted a mesh back to his coat (I love how that part turned out), and then added this purple sparkly ribbon to his sleeves. He was going to have another pentagram in the back but it was too much (but it left a cool shadow of the star after I removed it).

His gloves are made of mesh and ribbon (with glitter fabric glue continuously added on top of each other, and then painted silver, to make the spikes on his knuckles -same thing I did with his choker and shoes). His nails are painted black with the same color flash glaze paint as part of his earrings.

Okay onto his main outfit without the coat (he’s much more fun and easier to pose without his jacket).

“Spelldon, please move your necklace out of the way, so we can see your shirt better, thank you.”

Close up of his wild boar and Greek vase designs on his shirt (done in fabric paint). I REALLY love how the boar turned out as I was SUPER nervous I was going to mess it up. Having a boar/Greek vase design on an orange shirt was also inspired by @spookberry ‘s design of Spelldon. His necklace pendant was another bead I had (and it worked great for attacking thread too).

Side and back of his outfit (you can see some of that stray black glitter).

“‘Scuse me Spelldon, can you lift your shirt so we can see you joggers better? Thank you.” His joggers/capri’s and socks were inspired by @peppapigvevo ‘s Spelldon design. Once again I used ribbon, that sparkly material for his waistband and cuffs, and silver fabric paint for Greek vase design.

I attached a chain to his joggers and added these potion bottles (while Casta looks like she uses more magic spells and incantations through her singing, I like to think Spelldon uses potions -more like his mom). I made these potions out of wire, beads, thread and air-dry clay.

Onto his shoes and socks. I made the shoes out of paperboard and paper-maché. I wanted them to be boar themed while still having pentagrams and studs on them. They turned out a bit wonky (and a tad too long -but it helps him stand up, haha), but I spent too much time on them to redo them, haha. His shoe sole I also painted with that sparkle flash glaze paint too. I also gave him the striped socks, because I love striped socks and tights on witches.

“Thanks for holding still Spelldon, and being patient with me.” I’m going to make another post or two with comparisons with his sister, some of my other customs, and some vampire that claims he knows him or something, heehee.

Oh yeah! My sketches for him:

#spelldon cauldronello #spelldon #monster high doll #monster high dolls #monster high #mh #doll custom #monster high custom doll #monster high custom #spelldon doll #spelldon Custom #customsbyaleta

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

My Little Shadow: Part ten (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: OH THE ANGST- Body image issues, mentions of smut, and trauma.

Part nine Part eleven

Tag list: @mis-lil-red @bubybubsters @luvmoo @rorel1a

Y/N tells Feyre and Mor about her feelings for Azriel, and they convince her to confess, because he feels the same way... right?

“Well, You should tell him.”  Morrigan said, grinning at me in Rita’s.

I hadn’t really wanted to come here, as it was a ‘girl’s night out’, they insisted I came with.

“What are you two up to?”  Feyre asked as she found a seat in our booth, and cheeks heated a bit more.

“Y/N’s crush on Azzy.”  Morrigan said, and I wondered if I was going to melt right then and there.

Feyre’s eyes went wide, sparling with glee as she grinned.  “Are you going to tell him?”

This was the absolute worst.

“No!”  I said, shooting the both of them a glare.  “He probably doesn’t feel the same way anyway.”

Morrigan and Feyre looked at each other conspiratorially, and I suddenly had a bad feeling.

“What are you two planning?”

“Oh, nothing…” Feyre said with a smirk.

Morrigan scooted closer to me and spoke softly, “You know, I’m pretty sure Az feels the same way.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Of course you only say that after I said I wasn’t going to tell him.”

Mor grinned, and I knew then I wasn’t getting out of this for a while.

“What you need is to feel more confident in yourself.”  She declared, getting out of the booth and looking at me with chaotic delight in her eyes.  “We are taking you shopping.”

“No-”  I started to protest but mor grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the booth.

Feyre chuckled, taking another small sip of her drink before following us out the door.

I was half dead on my feet from exhaustion as we made it to the dress shop.  I had been so busy with training in the mornings, I never got to explore the city at night.  It was somehow even more beautiful, glowing in the night.

We had already gone and gotten our hair and nails done, despite my protests, and now Mor claimed I needed the perfect dress.

I sat by the window with Feyre as we watched Morrigan look through the beautiful fabrics.

“Thank you.”  I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Feyre swung her head around, a small smile on her face.  “Oh, don’t worry.  We have plenty to spend on things like this.  And anyway, you’re part of our little family now.”

I blushed at this, but quickly added, “Not just this.  Everything.”

It was obvious she didn’t quite understand as she looked at me, and I clarified, “I mean for letting me stay here, for giving me a home.”

Her eyes softened in understanding and she wrapped a comforting arm around me.  “You will always have a home here Y/N.”

I smile softly, about to say something else when a dress catches my eye.

I’m quick to stand, and even quicker to make my way over to it, feeling the shadowy fabric on the mannequin.

The cloth of the dress clings tight in the chest and torso, the fabric almost swirling as it falls into a skirt of dark blues, purples, and black.  It also comes with a little caplet, adding to the elegance of the design.

I bite my lip nervously.  The only problem is that it’s otherwise sleeveless, and would reveal my torn up arms.

“Ooh, that’s a nice dress!  You should try it on!”  Morrigan encouraged, rushing up to take it off the mannequin.

“No, I can’t.”  I say, backing away a little bit.

I didn’t want them to see.  I didn’t want anyone to see.  My scars didn’t look like art, like Azz’s swirls that add so much character, they aren’t some badge from a fight I had won.

They were just… Scars.  Deep, ugly, scars.

“Come on, pleaseee?”  Morrigan begged, and I swallowed hard.

“Okay…”  I said, not feeling comfortable even as she squealed in excitement.

I felt a warm hand grip mine, and I turned to see Feyre next to me, mouthing, “Are you alright?”

I nodded, forcing a little smile to my face.

Soon, I was in the dressing room, changing into the dress.  I looked into the mirror, and almost gasped as I saw the way the dress hung on me.  It almost looked better on me than it did on the mannequin.

It accentuated my curves and the top of my hips before flowing freely, there was a bit of cleavage, but not extreme.

But the part that made me nervous was the scars littered down my arms.  I knew as soon as I went out they would see them, and I didn’t want to talk about what had happened to me under the mountain right now.

I take a deep breath though, knowing that I couldn’t avoid this forever.

If they ask, I don’t have to tell them.  I really don’t.

So I opened up the door, stepping out so they could see me.

They both just stare for a moment, and I wait for them to be horrified, to usher me back in to change back-

“YOU LOOK STUNNING!”  Morrigan shouted, loud enough to wake the whole goddamn city.

She rushed over, forcing me to spin around so she could get a better look.  Feyre was smiling now, although it seemed a bit sad.

I was still reeling from their reactions when they dragged me out of the store, still wearing the dress because I think they knew if I got out of it, they may never get me to wear it again.

“Now you go talk to Azriel, tell him how you feel.”  She said, grinning as Feyre winnowed us back to the river house.

They quickly rushed off, leaving me on my own to find Azriel.

I could have sent my shadows out, but I decided it was better if I looked myself.  I can’t always hide behind them.

As I’m searching, I go through many rooms, but one thing they all had in common was that they had some sort of art from Feyre hanging in them.

I head into the library, and I’m surprised to find a red-haired female.  She’s a bit short, and I wonder if she’s completely fae, but that never really mattered to me.

“Hello.”  I say, and she drops her book in surprise.  She looks tired, like she’s been through a lot.

This is easier than talking to Azriel, soI smile, walking over to her.  “I’m Y/N.  What's your name?”

She’s quiet for a moment before she says, “Bryce.”

Her accent is a little strange, but I didn’t mind.  I looked at her discarded book.  “Whatcha reading?”

She struggles as she speaks, “I- I’m still learning- to talk this language.”

My eyes go wide and I nod.  “That’s alright.  Hey, have you seen Azriel around?”

For a second I wonder if she understands me, but then she says, “Kitchen.”

I grin at her, giving her a thumbs up.  “Thank you!  And hey, if you ever need any help, come find me.  I used to help the kids back home learn to read, so I might be able to help with some pronunciation.”

She looked a little confused, but nodded gratefully.  As I headed to the kitchen, I hoped whatever she was going through ended soon.  She seemed nice.

Nearing the kitchen, I could hear snippets of conversation.  I paused, rethinking the whole thing.

I took a steading breath.  Maybe it was the alcohol, or the night I had shared with Mor and Feyre, but I decided fuck it and turned the corner to the kitchen.

My shadows wrapped around me as soon as I went around the corner, sensing what was happening before I even did.

His hand was half up Elain’s skirt, and her head was tipped back as he planted kisses on her collarbone.

I stand there, reeling a bit.

I thought- Mor had said-

Elain’s eyes meet mine, and I suddenly realize that I’m watching a very private moment.

Azriel notices her stare, and turns to look, but I’m already sprinting for the door.

I hear Azriel call out my name, but I don’t stop, I don’t even register it fully.

Take me somewhere else, anywhere else, just away from here.  I’m thinking to myself, but my shadows understand, and for the first time, they winnow me away.

#a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #a court of wings and ruin #acotar #reader x azriel #acowar #azriel acotar #y/n x azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acosf #feyre archeron #acotar fanfiction #actor morrigan #acotar mor #mor #morrigan #feyre cursebreaker #high lady feyre #y/n x shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger #shadows #velaris #sarah j maas #night court

[90s-2000s-barbie]

I wanted to post my more in-depth thrift tips.

I had an ask a while ago asking for my advice on tips. And I’ve had this in my drafts for a while just to make sure I really added everything I wanted to. So I’ve been going to thrift stores and garage sales my whole life but really picked it and collecting up as a hobby in 2009. Starting with basics. When I personally thrift, I go to local flea markets, thrift stores, garage sales, church sales, goodwills, any place near by that re sells used items. It’s cheaper in person than looking online. 100%.

My Main Rules:

Never pay full price. This stuff is USED and older for that matter. I don’t care if people think it’s rare, it’s used. Some things are on their last legs of life. I can’t tell you how many times I bought a vintage item or even clothes and they break, tear ex as soon as u get home, test it out, wear it then it breaks! It happens!) always keep that in mind. I also like to keep E6000 clear glue around just in case it’s something I can fix. (If u also try E6000, make sure to follow instructions on bottle exact and it will hold up forever. I glued heavy glass and it’s still together years later)

Only possibly think of spending a little more if the item is in a box and old stock or if it’s super meaningful to you. BUT if u use my tips, u can find old stock in boxes cheap even or decent priced when thrifting. I only pay little more or seek something out if it’s meaningful to me or extremely sentimental. (Old favorite toy or I got rid of and want back, something I always wanted and can now cause I’m 30! Ex….) 😂 otherwise, I don’t buy if the price isn’t right.

If you aren’t sure if it’s actually vintage, look for the year on the item, tag ex, or if u have a phone, look it up, look up the brand! Some super old stuff don’t have years on them too so keep that in mind, helps to use google.

I feel like if u go thrifting enough, u will find whatever you are looking for eventually so if the price isn’t right, don’t buy! You will probably see it again eventually and if you also do this as a hobby, u have a lifetime to come upon it again. lol

Go when u can afford it or really want to. I use to go WEEKLY, I would find things every week cause they constantly have different stuff. lol but now I have bills now and things are expensive, so it’s just not realistic for me anymore. I go once or maybe twice a month if I’m lucky. BUT I will admit, u will find a lot of items if u go weekly and can get first dibs but it can get pricey as it all adds up of course.

Leave no stones unturned. So when I go to the thrifting, I look EVERYWHERE. I spend HOURS. lol Sometimes u find the best stuff in the weirdest spots! I found a ADULT Powerpuff girls sweater from 2000 in the kids xl section! I’ve found vintage bedding on random clothing wracks. Sometimes things get moved, you will be surprised on what u will find.

So this use to be one of my rules when I had a better phone plan lol but if I feel like I’m questioning a price on an item, I use to look it up on eBay or google. (If you use eBay, their is settings they show what items actually sell for and not just what they r listed as. THIS HELPS. Sometimes people put insane prices but they definitely aren’t selling for that much! Helps to see the actual value if u need to.)

If u go to garage sales or flea markets, don’t be scared to ask for prices or make offers. If u like it, ask! If the price isn’t right, just say thanks and go on ur merry way. Key is always be nice and respectful if they don’t budge on price. You’ll probably see it again. lol. Least u asked! I use to be too shy to ask and I’d regret it! Also I’d go home empty sometimes cause of it. But now, I seem to really connect with people and try to be nice, talk to them like a potential friend! Sometimes the interaction makes my day and I can get a laugh out of some people. Even sometimes being nice and funny person can go a long way with others. One time I went to a small town and it was the last day of garage sale weekend and people just seemed so nice and liked me, they gave me stuff for free it kept happening throughout the day! lol Sometimes people won’t budge on prices though and that’s fine. And other times, people just want stock or items gone! lol They want money, they don’t wanna take the junk back inside their home and I get it! lol for example, one place gave me stuff for free cause she was trying to get rid of kids toys, her kids had so much she gave me stuff for free, some powerpuff girl plushies for 25 cents! One time, I had a guy tell me a doll I was looking at was worth $200. (Which He was right they sold for that much in box, I looked it up when I got home) he said was worth $200 but he was asking $20 cause he wanted it sold. He had no attachment and needed extra cash as he kept buying to resell but hasn’t sold much. I told him she’s cute but idk. I kept looking at his other items. Finally when I walked away, he shouted $10! I bought her up! lol One day, I bought a giant box of McDonald’s toys, (second photo from top right above the TMNT bag) for $2 for the entire Box!! Completely full! Was a family at the flea market that was just having a garage sale so to speak, they were moving so they didn’t want anything! lol Also an example too of the opposite scenario, an older lady was selling all spice girls dolls in box for $80 dollars all together (at the time the whole lot was cheaper on eBay, they were $45 for the lot and this stuff wasn’t popular so it just wasn’t selling at the time.) I asked price of baby spice alone and she wouldn’t split the band. I said ok thanks and went on my merry way! I later in life got 3 of the girls for $10 to $6 a piece in box. lol

HAVE FUN. This is my hobby. I’ve been doing this as a hobby since 2009! Of course it takes a while to get as much as I have. But I really only recommend thrifting if u REALLY enjoy it and collecting. You really have to enjoy it and to keep going! It’s like a treasure hunt to me! I do it as a collector cause it’s a blast. I‘ve met such interesting people, I’ve seen such cool things even if I didn’t bring it home and couldn’t afford the item. It’s fun! It’s so exciting to find something on a shelf u haven’t seen in years. Also fun to find things u forgot existed or just speak to u personally! I literally buy anything that just feels like it belongs with me anymore. I fall in love with the moment I look at it. I use to think, oh people will think I’m weird? and I still remember those items I passed up YEARS later and say why did I leave that behind? lol 😂 It’s such a cool hobby. I can tell u what I paid for just about everything! 😂 I remember it all cause I really do love it and I LOVE deals.

Also, all the pictures above are mine and things I thrifted, do not steal! If u have any questions about how much I paid for some of these items, or have any questions in general, don’t be afraid to ask. If u wanna know tips about thrifting on toys, clothes, ex, please ask! I will try to help to the best of my knowledge. The 2nd photo, 6th, 7th, 9th and 10th photo are perfect examples cause it’s everything I got at ONE flea market or thrift store, just one stop. Sometimes I find full collections! Each photo are from different days but are definitely good examples. Also if I forget anything I feel is super important to add, I’ll probably post another part 2 or something. ❤️ hope this helps someone.

I think it it would be cool, if any followers decided to thrift or if you use any of my tips and find some cool stuff, to make a post and tag me! Show me ur cool finds, what tips helped the you the best if u feel like adding that.

#thrifting #2000s #y2k #personal #tips #asks #ask #me #2000s nostalgia #2000s kids #y2k nostalgia #2000s style #y2k aesthetic #00s #y2k style #2000s kid #00s core #00s fashion #00s kid #2000s fashion #2000s aesthetic

[noeou]

KARAOKE NIGHT.

ⓘ ⠀with a little convincing, azul added karaoke rooms to the lounge! now that exams are over, you decided to bring your friends to celebrate.

ⓘ ⠀housewardens : gn! reader : sfw : wc.

sincerely noe ,⠀i want this. one day, i have my fingers crossed.

riddle rosehearts ;

you may as well have considered riddle absent, he stayed pouting in a corner the whole time.

the night in and of itself gave him more anxiety than the actual exams did, but seeing the rest of you have fun as a reward for you hard work made it worth it (not that he'd admit.)

he grew more comfortable as the night progressed; not that he sang, but he wasn't as tense. he was laughing with you guys, even!

cater and ace sang a love song, addressing it to him in a joking way; while you thought it would make him clam up again, it was surprisingly okay!

speaking of those two, the were passed out by the end of the night and you had to help trey and deuce drag them back.

by helping, i mean tagging behind while talking to riddle and catching up about the past week.

to some of your surprise, he became much more open and comfortable with you past that— not that you were complaining!

leona kingscholar ;

might as well add 'loud karaoke room' to the list of absurd places leona can fall asleep in.

it took a while, but he didn't like the amount of 'fun' you three were having and so he joined.

man was he terrible, lhm.

best believe if you weren't dead from his performance, you were dead from embarrassment.

ruggie suggested you guys do something else, for the better of azul's business so you went to sam's instead and walked around the campus.

best believe you also had a savannaclaw sleepover after <3

azul ashengrotto ;

the idea had azul beyond flustered, floyd going out of his way to make it worse was not helping.

the day you proposed the idea to them, you saw posters telling people come watch the octopus sing. (jade added the fee at the bottom corner ofc.)

while azul didn't sing, the rest of you did! you could've sworn you heard a hum, but it may just be your ears.

the twins decided they'd spend the rest of their night there (after one pastry too many,) leading azul to take you home.

after many self pep-talks, he decided to sing for you. lucky for him, you couldn't see his red face but know it was there.

please please give compliments, but not too many. only the perfect amount.

it could either end with him ignoring you for a day or more comfortable with you than ever.

kalim al asim ;

best night of the year for the sea-squad.

you better believe kalim invited the entire house, it's actually crazy. each karaoke room was booked.

something that was meant for your lover, jamil, and you became a whole scarabia celebration.

don't worry though, once kalim made sure everyone was comfortable in their rooms you three went to your own. he's not that naive.

the night was more like: 'jamil shows of his secret singing talent, giving the cheersquad another talent to praise him for.'

the three of you ended up falling asleep, waking to azul's scolding, but it couldn't matter less.

you and kalim were able to add more merch to the jamil fan club so all is well.

vil schoenheit ;

they took it way too seriously.

you weren't insecure because of their skill, (rook literally became a piano) just beyond confused.

in your world, you have done karaoke before. classical was just something.. you didn't sing?

epel was the only one singing songs you could recognize, but despite that rook and vil were still talented.

it was clear the dorm leader and vice were able to release much tension, though it wasn't yet clear if it was a good or bad thing.

their music choice became an inside joke between you and epel, which makes taking their scoldings ten times harder.

idia shroud ;

idia made ortho sign a contract that you wouldn't record (with azul's recommendation.)

he wasn't that bad, it was more surprising his immediate willingness to participate.

ortho is another hiding singing talent; if you can ignore the fact he could literally replace his voice with ariana grande.

you did get clips of the night on video, as you didn't sign the contract. the two of you came to the conclusion idia will find out never.

malleus draconia ;

what in the opera house...

you were in tears when the first song came on, lilia was the only one that shared the sentiment. you could've mistaken this as church.

you never wished you could drink more than you did at the moment.

the music choices were diverse: malleus and sebek with their old fashioned opera and lilia with something that reminded you of anaconda by nicki.

silver fell asleep on you shoulder, even with sebek's loud high notes in the background.

you weren't sure if you wanted to do this again or never again; maybe you never will.

but do be prepared to explain your laughter to malleus when he walks you back to your dorm later.

#twst imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #twst headcanons #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

[cheshiresense]

Anon:

Fandom: Harry Potter (CLV kinda?)

Character or Ship: Hadrian from CLV, I love Hadrian/Orion but that might not work here so it's totally up to you!

AU/Trope: I'd love to see an AU where instead of the CLV dimension, Hadrian is sent to a universe still with BWL!Neville but more similar to canon. Maybe with Slytherin!Hadrian and Hadrian taking some of the other Slytherins under his wing? I just really like the idea of a world where the "good guys" win and instead of (or in addition to) Orion it's the Slytherins who need Hadrian in their corner. Doesn't have to be all of them, whoever you prefer writing is fine. I am also down for bashing if you need to work that in. Thank you!

Tags: CLV AU, Slytherin!Hadrian, Canonical Prejudices, Draco Malfoy Bashing, kind of?, tbh this is more or less how I see him in canon lol but I know he's a fan favourite so fair warning, he's not the CLV version here, at least not yet.

-0-

Author's Notes: Hello, it's been a while since I've worked on these. I think I mentioned before that my tumblr inbox got glitchy so I actually couldn't find the other 6 requests from the last batch of 10 you guys sent in for 5+ Headcanons. So I set up an airtable form instead and got someone to test it, and this was the one they sent. It works, so in the future, I'll toss out a new post with the form link for more requests, and maybe I'll get through them in a timely manner lol.

If you're not in the UraIchi server, then you might've noticed that I've sort of been MIA on the writing front for a while now, the last time I wrote and posted something was like back in May last year, and honestly I've been kind of tired and burnt out ever since, and real life is kicking my ass a bit, so when I do have spare time, all I feel like doing is reading fics or webnovels and sleeping. But the winter hols were a nice break for me, and I've started on a couple new fic ideas and added to some wips on and off over the past few months, so I'm slowly getting back into it, and this 5+ Headcanons prompt was one of the things I've been working on. Hopefully, I'll be able to get back into posting fics soon.

ANYWAY, on to the stuff you actually care about: Slytherin!Hadrian, so basically amp up the hardened war vet and dial down the friendship magic XD Way back when I first started CLV, I did consider Slytherin for his House but it felt like everybody did that, plus the politics I would have to get into gave me a headache and I felt like I couldn't do it justice anyway, so I went with Hufflepuff. Slytherin does give me more options to play with a powerful Hadrian who has less morals about flinging that around to get what he wants though since he would be viewed as a halfblood at best and he'd need that currency to make sure nobody messes with him, especially if this universe is more canon than CLV (lbr, almost everybody is at least 50% nicer in CLV lol). So okay, let's give this a spin.

(AO3 Link Here -- I’ll add this to the collection fic on my AO3 to make it a round 15 but this one will be the last for that. If I do more, I’ll start a new fic.)

-0-0-0-

1.

Hadrian ends up being a Hatstall. He sits on the stool for a full seven minutes as the Sorting Hat sifts through his bloodstained memories with a silence so grim Hadrian is tempted to comfort it. Then it proceeds to send back memories of its own, the major points of recent Hogwarts history that would best help Hadrian fit in - Neville, the Boy-Who-Lived; an image of Hadrian's counterpart and an entire family still alive; Quirrell vanquished in first year, a basilisk slain and a diary that bled itself to death in the second, Remus teaching in the third but no Pettigrew in sight; Neville at odds with Potter, Gryffindors at odds with Slytherins, and Death Eater children who hadn't managed to come out of the last war as financially and politically secure as families like the Malfoys, subtly shunned for their parents' sins, while children from the Light side, the winning side, with parents who'd openly defied Voldemort, can do almost no wrong. On the surface, everything looks bright and happy. Beneath it, malcontent and despair bubbles and brews with hardly anyone the wiser, and those who are, are glad to look away.

The Sorting Hat offers no opinions of its own after it is done, only continuing on to extol the virtues of all four Houses while making an argument for why Hadrian would be perfectly suited for each of them in equal measure, before finally leaving the decision in Hadrian's hands.

"Even I cannot be certain where you would do the most good," the Sorting Hat tells him. "Nor do I know which House would do you the most good. There are many children in this school who could use a helping hand such as yours, and likewise, you too would benefit from the same. Who am I to decide which is more important? Perhaps it is most accurate to say that no matter where you end up, who you will help, and who you will allow to help you, a new future will unfold, one made possible only by your existence. Yours is a fate that demands change, Mr. Evans, for better or for worse. But when peril looms on the distant horizon, when our society insists on blind stagnancy, and its people have long stood divided, change is exactly what this world needs. Thus, I leave the choice to you. Where do you wish to go?"

Hadrian says nothing - thinks nothing - for a long deafening minute. The mounting whispers in the Great Hall are easy enough to tune out, and within the confines of his mind, the Hat too remains patiently silent.

The truth of it is - Hadrian is tired. Even now, in this moment, in this place, one year and an entire dimension and seven years away, he still feels like he does on most days— as if he's just walked off a battlefield at the end of one of those kinds of days that can break a man even when you think there's nothing left to break, yet still hyper-alert for the next enemy, the next fight, the next death, because he doesn't know how to do anything else, how to be anything else. On all the rest, of course, it feels as if he never left the battlefield at all.

He is tired, and he honestly doesn't feel like he's capable of helping anyone, not children, not the reflections of his loved ones, and certainly not an entire world that's rapidly revealing itself to be as stuck on a one-way train to hell as his original world had been.

He doesn't want to be a hero, doesn't know how to be one even after all these years, even when other people had always so desperately wanted him to be. A hero, until he'd proven unable to meet their expectations, and then he'd been their villain, right up until they'd needed a hero to stand in front of them again, and round and round and round they'd gone.

The only thing he could never be was just Harry, just himself, and now even Harry Potter is no longer his to claim.

But maybe that's not so bad, not when Harry Potter has always been more story than reality, a patchwork fairytale portrait of a boy, a man, a weapon, a sacrifice, stitched together by every hand except his own.

Maybe Hadrian Evans could be something different.

Gryffindor feels too much like repeating history, and Hadrian would rather not be forced to stare at the majority of those long dead to him day in and day out. Hufflepuff is too prone to crowding together for his liking, persistently eager to be friends with their own members even if they're quick to turn on those who aren't, and Hadrian doesn't think he can bear the overenthusiastic socializing that would require.

 Ravenclaw might be best, a House where even the most introverted can find a home if they have a thirst for knowledge, but at the same time, for a lot of them, once they latch on to a question unanswered or an opinion that doesn't fit their worldview, they won't let go until the question is exhausted or the opinion has conformed to what they consider acceptable, and Hadrian has too many secrets and no more patience to be what others what him to be to fit in with those sorts of people anymore. Besides, he's never quite forgiven that House as a whole. Marietta Edgecombe had been Ravenclaw. Quirrell and Lockhart and Trelawney had been Ravenclaws. Every single one of Luna's bullies had been Ravenclaws. He'd worked with members of that House over the years, taught them back when the DA had been up and running, and even been friendly with some of them beyond just Luna, but generally speaking, he has no positive emotions regarding Ravenclaw. He knows that he isn't being entirely fair, because Voldemort had been from Slytherin, and Pettigrew had been from Gryffindor, and the worst of the lot who'd spearheaded the damaging gossip and baseless accusations incriminating him - first for the Heir of Slytherin debacle in second year, and then the Cup nonsense in fourth year - had all been from Hufflepuff, but still, Ravenclaw simply stands out as that one House that holds no appeal for him.

That really only leaves one place he can go though, and Hadrian finds that he minds that a lot less than he once would've. Slytherin will have its own problems, him being a halfblood at best with a very obvious muggle surname, but Slytherins also respect power, and most of them have the sense to back off if they realize they're picking a fight with an opponent they can't beat. And once that's dealt with, Hadrian will most likely be avoided and left to his own devices, with only the occasional curse to his back to worry about. From a bunch of schoolchildren, that's a negligible issue.

In his head, the Sorting Hat chuckles. "Very well then. If you're sure, better be-"

"SLYTHERIN!"

But Mr. Evans," the Sorting Hat says in the seconds before it's removed from Hadrian's head. It sounds thoroughly amused. "Do not be so quick to underestimate your own heart."

And with that last ominous statement imparted to haunt him, Hadrian stands to lacklustre applause and makes his way to his new House as his tie settles into green and silver stripes.

The briefest of glances over the stretch of the Slytherin table tells him that none of the students seated where most of the fourth-years are gathered have moved to make room for him. That's fine. Hadrian would rather not be boxed in anyway. He takes a seat at the end of the table, smiles at the suspicious first-years around him, and then waits for Dumbledore's opening speech to finish so they can start the feast.

Fifteen minutes later, one treacle tart and a glass of pumpkin juice is all he can manage. He sips at some water for the rest of dinner even as he wishes it was something a lot more alcoholic. He speaks to no one, and no one tries to speak to him, although plenty of prying eyes and sneers of disdain find their way to him throughout the meal.

It makes him feel, Hadrian thinks with some humour, almost nostalgic.

Near the end of the evening, he thinks about going over to the Gryffindor table to find Neville, Ron, and Hermione. But he's in Slytherin now, so he doesn't know how they'll react, and after another moment of contemplation, he decides against it. Not much can embarrass him anymore, but he'd still rather not be put on the spot if the Golden Trio rejects his overture of friendship. It won't help his reputation in Slytherin either if he ends up making a spectacle of himself like that. There's plenty of time tomorrow to see how they'll feel about maintaining ties with a Slytherin without too big of an audience watching, and if they're against it, then, well, it's not as if Hadrian hasn't been living as a recluse over the better part of the past year anyway. He sees no problem carrying on exactly as he has.

Fate sent him here against his explicit permission but she sure as shit can't make him dance.

-0-0-0-

2.

Hadrian ends up shuffled into a dorm room with five very familiar Slytherins - Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. He gets the remaining bed that's presumably been empty since the others' first year, and a very pointed silence coalesces at his back as he starts unpacking his clothes into his wardrobe.

He ignores it. Instead, he absently begins a count of how long it will take for someone - he's betting Draco - to put their foot in their mouth first. He casts a glance at the floor-to-ceiling window next to his nightstand; like the Gryffindor dorms, the room is circular so everyone has a view to the outside, but here, instead of winds and open skies, it's lake water that shimmers against the glass, with the shadows of passing aquatic life flickering by. It's not bad, just different; the ambience of it is almost soothing.

Someone clears their throat behind him. Hadrian hangs up his winter cloak before moving on to his books. They each get a desk too, complete with a mini bookcase, which the Gryffindor dorms don't have. They have to do their homework on their beds or in the common room. How unfair. But at least Hadrian gets to benefit from it now.

Someone clears their throat again, louder this time. Hadrian smothers a twist of a smirk and bends over his trunk again to fish out his towels and toiletries. His more personal belongings can remain inside, although he'll have to ward everything to the nines anyway.

A displeased noise that comes out gilded with that distinctly familiar Dudley-esque whine of a child who's been spoiled since birth and has never known hardship reaches his ears, and then finally-

"Are you deaf, Evans?!" Draco demands, and oh, look at that, Hadrian wins the bet.

He straightens and turns, idly fiddling with a packet of quills as his gaze falls on the blond standing puffed up and bristling by the bed opposite Hadrian's on the other side of the dorm. He looks him over, looks at Crabbe and Goyle bracketing him with twin expressions of oafish scorn, looks at Zabini standing a ways away, watching the whole room with a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes, looks at Nott who doesn't look at anyone at all.

His attention returns to Draco, considering him for a moment longer before asking mildly, "Did you say something?"

Draco's cheeks flush pink even as he draws himself up and snaps, "You should at least have enough manners to introduce yourself!" His face narrows into a sneer, and Hadrian can almost predict his next words. "But I suppose even that might be too difficult for a mudblood to learn."

For a second, Hadrian wonders if he should tell him he's a halfblood. Then again, it doesn't really matter, and also some people consider halfbloods to be mudbloods too. And now that he thinks about it, the person he is in this world might actually be a muggleborn. But he was homeschooled so at least one of his fictional parents had to have known magic, right? Then again, they could've just been related to a witch or wizard but were muggles themselves. Who knows. Certainly not him since Fate couldn't be bothered to inform him.

"Evans, are you listening to me?!"

Hadrian blinks out of his thoughts. "Yes, I'm listening, what is it?"

Draco glares. His features are so… pointy at this age that the expression doesn't really carry the impact he's probably going for, but Hadrian figures it would be unnecessarily mean to mention it, so he doesn't. Instead, he quickly reviews everything Draco has said, and there wasn't actually a question anywhere in there, as far as Hadrian can tell, but maybe Draco really does want an introduction. Seems like a waste of breath though.

"Is there a point to introducing myself?" He asks. "Everybody heard my name at the Sorting. You even just used it so it's not like you don't know."

Draco splutters as if that wasn't what he expected Hadrian to say. He recovers after a moment and opts to glower harder instead, as if that would hide the way the pink in his cheeks is slowly turning red. Poor bastard. That's what you get when you have a pale complexion and fluster easily.

"Are you actually a mudblood then?" He demands contemptuously.

Hadrian honestly doesn't know, but he can't say that, so he volleys back, "Does Slytherin accept muggleborns?"

He knows they take halfbloods, but he can't remember any muggleborns in Slytherin, although if there are any, he doubts they would be willing to broadcast it, even if it means inventing a magical parent in their family tree.

"Of course not!" Draco refutes, sounding scandalized.

Hadrian can't tell if that's actually true, or if that's just Draco's own belief, but it does make things easier. "Then…" He shrugs. "If you already know, why are you asking?"

A beat of silence passes, then two. The red deepens in Draco's face as he hisses dramatically, "Are you mocking me?"

Hadrian suppresses a sigh. He probably is being too flippant for someone as high-strung as Draco, but it's still a far sight from mockery. He can definitely do better if he wants to taunt someone. Had his world's Draco been this easily riled up? They hadn't even really gotten into any exchange of insults yet. "I wouldn't say I'm-"

He stops.

Across the room, Draco has pulled out his wand, and when he realizes that Hadrian's broken off mid-sentence, the flush recedes from his face, and a triumphant smirk instantly takes its place instead.

"Since you've been sorted into Slytherin," Draco announces, raising his wand with a ridiculously showy flourish that makes Hadrian twitch with the desire to correct his posture. "You should know your place. Mouthing off to your betters is a good way to get cursed around here, especially when you're in the presence of someone like me." He sneers down his nose even as his chin tips up, all peacock proud. "My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Even the likes of your kind should've heard of my family." He looks smug, as if a mere surname can protect him from anything when it comes down to it. "You'll be staying here for the next four years, Evans, and I guarantee you'll have a miserable time of it if you get on my bad side. But today's your first day at Hogwarts, so I can be generous. If you apologize, I'll let you go just this once."

An expectant hush falls as Draco finishes his little speech. Hadrian doesn't say anything right away, still turning over the packet of quills in his hands, still waiting. When nothing happens after a good five seconds tick by, and the silence gradually becomes strained, Hadrian finally nods at Draco's wand, "So are you going to use that or not?"

The stunned look of outrage on Draco's face is gold.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Evans!" Draco snarls, jabbing out with his wand. "Oscausi!"

Hadrian has time to arch an eyebrow at the choice of a pseudo-silencing charm before he's flipping a quill into the fingers of his left hand. A swipe of his thumb leaves a chain of runes glittering along its shaft, and then he brings it up, catches the oncoming spell with the tip, and swats it aside with a flick of his wrist, all in one fluid motion. His right hand doesn't stay still either as his wand slides neatly into his palm, and a single wordless modified Expelliarmus darts out and attaches itself to Draco's wand.

The white light of the Mouth-Sealing Charm is sent soaring across the room, shattering against the door in a shower of harmless sparks, and in the heavy silence that follows, Hadrian smiles.

He thinks it's a very bland smile, if he does say so himself. At the very least, he's careful to not look too intimidating or too unhinged, the way he can sometimes get, if some of his dead friends were to be believed, back during the war. Nevertheless, it still makes Draco blanch white, makes Crabbe and Goyle shrink back, makes Zabini lean further back into a convenient shadow and Nott go utterly still from where he's sitting on his bed.

Hadrian glances down at the remains of his writing utensil, most of the barbs now burnt black. It was a regular quill after all, not exactly made to withstand so much magic. He looks back up, at Draco who has a white-knuckled grip on his wand, and with his own wand, he gives the other's a tug, just enough to make Draco's eyes go wide with something like panic, but not enough to actually disarm him and - considering the sheer amount of honed intent in the charm that even Draco can undoubtedly sense - most likely bend the wand's allegiance.

Hadrian holds it for a moment longer, and then lets go. Draco staggers back a step, jerking his wand down and reflexively pressing it into his chest as if he's trying to protect it, or maybe assure himself that it still belongs to him.

Hadrian tucks his wand back up his sleeve before stooping down to pick up the rest of the quills he'd dropped. The burnt one goes in the bin by his desk.

Nobody speaks. Nobody even moves. So Hadrian does.

"That took you almost five seconds," He begins almost conversationally as he opens a drawer to stash his remaining quills away. "From when you decided to fire that spell to actually firing it. And that's not even counting all the time you wasted saying the stuff before that, after you already took out your wand. It's stupid. When you draw with the intent to harm, you shouldn't give any warning at all. And the spell itself was slow. You should work on that."

He pauses, and there's still no response, which he supposes makes sense. He doubts anybody here wants to listen to him preach. He should just wrap things up since the plan is moving along so neatly.

"Anyway, this is pretty unfortunate," He switches gears and smiles again, as fit-for-public-polite as he knows how to be. It doesn't seem to make anyone feel better, but he also doesn't feel like he was that heavy-handed earlier, was he? Ah well, can't change anything now, and it's still in line with what he wants so it doesn't matter.

"I wasn't really expecting to make any friends since I know the average Slytherin's views on blood isn't exactly in my favour," He continues in light tones. "But I was hoping that we could at least remain on civil terms and get along as schoolmates, if only because we'll be living together for the rest of our time at Hogwarts. Since that doesn't seem to be possible anymore though, how about we just go with the simplest solution?"

Hadrian surveys the room and smiles some more. "You ignore me and I’ll ignore you. You attack me and I'll retaliate. An eye for an eye, so to speak. Everybody just needs to mind their own business, and there won't be any problems. That's fair enough, don't you think?"

His gaze settles once more on Draco. "Since you're the only one who's said anything so far, I'll assume you speak for everyone in this dorm. Draco Malfoy, right? So then, do we understand each other now?"

Across from him, Draco shivers imperceptibly like a rabbit caught at the wrong end of a predator's line of sight, but he also swallows and nods and gingerly puts his wand away. It looks like it costs him, but - at least for now - he seems both too shocked and too afraid to try anything else.

"Great!" Hadrian says cheerfully before cocking his head as a thought occurs to him. "Oh, right, one more thing."

He lets his smile fall away. Lets his expression smooth over into marble. And then he lets his magic flare, lets the pressure of it roll across the room like the black merciless depths of a storm-tossed ocean, lets it eclipse them all like death come to call, and then he brings it crashing down, not most of it, not even half, because he hasn't forgotten that these are children, that they're still young, and they can learn, they can be better, and Hadrian doesn't actually want to traumatize them permanently.

But he also remembers Draco - his world's Draco - telling him once, in a fit of aggravated exasperation during one of those times when they'd devolved into insulting each other's House traits yet again because they still hadn't understood what made the other tick, but they had also reached a point in their friendship where they'd started trying to, and kept trying.

"Slytherins respect power," Draco had said, not for the first time, but then he'd also added, for the first time, and haltingly as if he hadn't known why he'd had to explain it at all, "How else are you going to know they're worth your time? Or I guess worth befriending, in your Gryffindor terms."

"You don't decide whether or not to make friends based on how powerful someone is."

"Slytherins don't have friends. I only said friend because you're a Gryffindor and you don't understand anything else."

"Fine, you don't decide whether or not to associate with every single person you come across in your life based on how powerful they are either."

"Why not?"

"Why would you??"

"How else would you know they're strong enough to stand with you? Or competent enough to protect themselves? Power is a good starting line. If they're powerful enough, then they won't be afraid to face your enemies with you, and you can trust them to be capable of keeping themselves safe without having to keep an eye on them every minute of the day. Only brainless Gryffindors prefer doing things like throwing themselves in the line of fire and dying dramatically for each other and calling that a win. Let me tell you something, Potter - it's not a victory when you're forced to suffer a loss. You haven't won anything if you're not around to enjoy the aftermath. So the best allies must be ones who are powerful enough to not only achieve their goals but also survive them."

"…"

"Well, I will grudgingly admit that I didn't put quite that much thought into it when I was younger, but who did? …It's what I believe now though. Did I finally get it through your thick skull this time, Potter?"

After that particular conversation, Hadrian had understood a little better, even if he hadn't entirely agreed with it all. But he hadn't forgotten a single word, and Draco was right— as they are, these kids definitely aren't thinking that deeply, but Hadrian thinks that the core of it at least is the same. Slytherins respect power. And he has power in spades, so at the very least, he can make them respect him.

Of course, if that also happens to make them afraid of him, then, well, he was never aiming to be their friend or even ally anyway. So long as they leave him alone, it's fine.

He brings his magic to bear, allows the weight of it to fall and fall and fall, and he watches dispassionately as Draco goes grey, as Crabbe and Goyle's knees buckle, as Zabini flinches back like he wants to melt into the walls, as Nott curls into himself and may or may not have stopped breathing.

Hadrian catches Draco's eye, and doesn't let him look away. "I have no betters. Do I make myself clear?"

He'd spent half his life being beaten down by the Dursleys, told over and over that he was worth nothing, that he didn’t deserve food or clothes or kindness, that he was a waste of space and better off dead. He'd spent a good chunk of his Hogwarts career obliviously dancing to Dumbledore's tune, and then some more of it knowingly dancing to it because what else could he do with a target on his back. He'd spent over twenty years shackled to Voldemort, to his parents' legacy, to a war that had loved him a whole lot more than he'd ever loved it. And he'd been Fate's everything since before he'd ever even been born.

Some days, he wonders if he even knows what freedom is anymore. Or if he's ever known at all.

But one thing he is sure of is that he will never passively tolerate anyone controlling what he can or cannot do ever again.

Draco whimpers something like agreement, like deference, like surrender, and- that's enough. Hadrian reels it all back, all his magic hidden away again, and in the dizzying wake of its abrupt disappearance, Draco collapses, barely catching himself and his dignity with the edge of his bed. Crabbe and Goyle do crash to the ground, while Zabini has to steady himself against his nightstand, and Nott sways like he might faint.

Too much, Hadrian thinks distantly, and tries to feel bad about it because he really hadn't meant to go that far, but his lines in the sand have also long since blurred away beneath a tide of blood and corpses.

Mostly, he just feels tired, and it has nothing to do with his displays of magic tonight.

He breathes. Turns. Grabs a towel and his underwear and pyjamas and pretends everything's fine. It is fine, now. He's gotten what he wanted. "It's getting late. I'll shower first. Won't be long."

And then he's exiting stage right, straight into the bathroom, and it's a relief to close the door behind him.

Of course, that sentiment is one that's shared by probably every single person in the room.

-0-0-0-

3.

Theo is awake before anyone else the next morning. Or at least he thinks he is because he usually is. But everybody's curtains are drawn, and after last night, he doubts anyone was able to sleep right away, if at all, with the exception of their new roommate.

Hadrian Evans. Great Merlin, where had this person even come from? Even just the memory of his magic - vast and endless and utterly uncompromising - pressing down on them like the sky had fallen on their heads, makes his hands want to shake all over again. For a long, suspended, suffocating moment that could've lasted an eternity, Theo could've sworn he was going to die last night. And the most terrifying thing is that he is absolutely certain that Evans hadn't even been trying that hard.

Evans had radiated enough raw power to force all of them to their knees if he'd really wanted to. But he'd held back. He'd only given them a glimpse, just enough to warn them off. The rest of his magic had been out of reach, but present. It was there, reined in and waiting, but the shape of it and the depth of it had felt… unfathomable, as if it had no limits.

And that doesn't even account for the spellwork he had done. Theo had recognized the Disarming Charm, but last he checked, the average Expelliarmus only deprived a wizard of their wand. A more powerful one might send the target flying and even knock them out, but he's never heard of one that can… threaten to disarm your opponent at your leisure and - if Theo wasn't mistaken - force the wand to forsake its owner. Everybody knows that that's always a possibility in a real duel; if you win and take your opponent's wand, then that wand might not work for its owner anymore. But most of the time, you have to mean it, you have to set out with the intent to do it, the buildup of magic in the duel itself gives that intent a foundation, and there has to be an actual possibly life-threatening conflict of interest between the parties too, a real enmity that even last night - however excessive the exchange - shouldn't have qualified. Squabbles between students just don't count. If it did, with the Disarming Charm being taught in school, there would be a lot more students in need of new wands. The only way Theo can rationalize it happening anyway is that Evans must've been strong enough to compel the wand itself to leave its owner.

Pity he hadn't gone through with it in the end. Evans is powerful, but he's also… Theo is hesitant to call him soft, but if it had been Malfoy, if it had been Blaise or even himself or pretty much any other Slytherin, they would've done it. He's unsure of why Evans hadn't.

And then there had been the thing with the quill. Theo can't even explain that, and he'd mulled it over for half the night. He has the… incidental fortune of occupying the bed closest to Evans', so as soon as Evans had ducked into the bathroom last night, and the others had been distracted with pulling themselves together and possibly trying not to wet themselves, Theo had chanced a swift peek into Evans' wastebasket.

It really had looked just like any other regular quill, one that'd been burnt completely black and missing most of its barbs, but it had been a quill. He'd been tempted to open Evans' desk drawer to check the other quills, but - with Evans' ultimatum still ringing in his ears - he hadn't been that suicidal, so he'd refrained. But from what he could recall, the pack it had come from had looked just like the mass-produced writing utensils one could find in any stationery shop in Diagon Alley.

Whatever he'd done though, he had made it look like child's play. A quill and a Disarming Charm, so fast that Theo could've blinked and missed it. Could someone like that really have remained in obscurity all this time? Evans had apparently been homeschooled up until now, and they haven't even attended their first class yet, but by anyone's definition, after last night, he can't claim to be anything less than a prodigy.

It's… unbelievable. And not even because of any of the blood purity ideals that Malfoy likes to preach about. Theo doesn't think much of muggleborns or halfbloods, but he also doesn't think much of most purebloods, so he's fairly certain it's not high society prejudices that's driving his disbelief. It's just… He's never met anyone - not even his father, and Merlin knows Theo's been afraid of him for as long as he can remember - as effortlessly powerful as Evans had shown himself to be, and he doesn't understand how nobody has heard even a whisper of a rumour of this boy before he'd arrived at Hogwarts.

Someone like him shouldn't exist. Or perhaps there has been one, and that had been how the Dark Lord had made so many people bow at his feet or cower in their homes, but Theo had never met him in person, and so all he has is Evans' example to draw from. And not a single witch or wizard whom Theo's ever met could compare.

Has Evans just been hiding himself? Maybe his family hid him before they deemed him ready to face the rest of the world, and he's certainly proven that he can hide it when he wants to. But what kind of family can bring up this kind of wizard? Evans is only fourteen. None of them had thought him anything special before he'd revealed exactly how wrong they were. And he probably wouldn't have done even that much if Malfoy hadn't immediately taken a go at him, always so obsessed with making sure everyone knows he sits at the top of the food chain.

Well, he certainly doesn't anymore, and if Theo hadn't been caught up in the confrontation last night just like everyone else, he would've been tempted to applaud the spectacle of Malfoy being taken down a peg or ten. Before Evans' arrival, Theo was the one Malfoy liked to take jabs at every few days, and it was only partly because he'd had a halfblood mother. The Notts could've been said to be respectably rich once upon a time, but after the war had ended, with his father's political clout being almost nonexistent and most of their extended relatives either dead or in Azkaban, they'd been easy pickings for the Aurors. His father had escaped prison time with the Imperius excuse and some bribes, but that hadn't prevented multiple raids on their home and a hefty list of fines that had left their vaults near-depleted. And what little fortune they have left is reserved almost entirely for Theo's father's alchemy obsession that's more often focused on illegal research topics than not, as well as his black market dealings, although neither of those at least is widely known, or who knows if they would even have their ancestral manor left after the Aurors were done with them?

Malfoy loved reminding him of almost every one of those things as often as he could, and the most absurd thing is that - more than being born from a halfblood mother or poverty or loss of prestige - Theo's pretty sure Malfoy's biggest reason for disliking Theo is because Theo had refused to follow him around like Crabbe and Goyle back in first year.

So here they are now, and after three years, Theo had more or less become inured, not to mention it wasn't as if Malfoy only bullied him, or even bullied him the most - nobody could top that list while Potter and Weasley were around to fight for first place on it - but it had still been annoying and stressful because Theo was the only one who had to share a dorm with him. Considering the Malfoys' standing in society however, all he could ever do was stay silent and bear with it.

Admittedly, he'd been a little happy when Evans had been sorted into Slytherin, because between Theo and an unknown halfblood-at-best with no allies and no significant family background to speak of, the perfect prey in every way, Malfoy would definitely enjoy targeting the latter more, and even if the blond ponce still came after Theo, it would at least take some of the pressure off of him.

Now… well. That will still probably pick back up sooner or later, but Theo resents it less when he thinks about how it will take at least a few weeks before Malfoy will be able to strut around again after last night's humiliation. And also…

He thinks again of last night, of how Evans had basically smacked Malfoy down like he was nothing more than an unruly upstart getting above himself, and of that quiet oath too - I have no betters - and it hadn't even been pride or arrogance or superiority, only stone-cold certain fact.

He thinks of the fear he'd felt, but behind that, beneath that, more than that, there had also been nothing less than a breathless, heady, wondrous sense of reverence that had settled itself behind his ribcage, in his lungs, in the sudden hungry swell of curiosity that he'd just barely managed to lock behind his teeth, and it had only grown stronger after a night of fitful sleep.

He wants to see that magic again. He wants to know what else Evans can do.

And most importantly, he wants to know if he can do it too.

-0-

Ten minutes later, Theo hears Evans pull his bed curtains back. Very cautiously, he twitches his own curtains open half an inch to watch Evans get up, stretching languidly and scrubbing a hand through his messy black hair before gathering up his toiletries and a change of clothes. Like this, he looks completely normal, nothing at all like someone who could flatten all five of his roommates with a thoughtless flex of his magic. Even his eyes are just green now, no longer glowing like the light of a Killing Curse.

Of course, then Evans waves a hand at his window curtains, which obediently sweep open in response, and… yes, why not? Wandless magic seems par for the course for Evans, even if Theo has only ever heard of a handful of seventh-years capable of some very basic wandless spells if they concentrate hard enough.

Evans leaves for the bathroom as if casual uses of wandless magic is an everyday occurrence for him, and only after the door has closed does Theo let himself relax.

Evans had never even glanced over, but somehow, Theo thinks the other boy had known he was being watched anyway. But he'd said nothing, hadn't even given any indication that he'd noticed, let alone minded. Theo still isn't sure why he'd let Malfoy off so easily yesterday - because on hindsight, when it came down to it, all Evans had really done was scare them and scare Malfoy most of all; despite the verbal abuse and even the Dark charm Malfoy had shot at him, Evans hadn't actually hurt any of them in return - and Theo doesn't get it but maybe part of it is just because Evans doesn't take offence easily.

It seems unwise to Theo to not at least dole out some injuries as a reminder when that offence had been as insolent as Malfoy's, but perhaps Evans has his own measure of such things. Besides, Malfoy's known to say worse. Theo's looking forward to what happens if Malfoy forgets himself and says something even more loathsome. It's not impossible. Malfoy has been unchallenged since he came to Hogwarts. He's used to saying and doing whatever he wants, even to the upper years and those outside his own House. Most people ignore him when they can and indulge him when they can't, or otherwise manage or placate him with their own methods, but the one thing no one has ever done is tell him no, tell him to stop and make it stick. Potter and Weasley tend to give as good as they get, what with how short their tempers are, but they're louder and more obvious about it, so they get caught more often, which just makes them even angrier, so it never actually feels like they win, even when Malfoy doesn't either. Certainly, no amount of lectures or point loss has managed to deflate his ego.

But now there's Hadrian Evans. Theo doesn't need a second demonstration to know that Malfoy is outclassed in every way, but funnily enough, Malfoy himself might need it.

Theo eyes the bathroom door for a moment longer before finally getting up himself. He's barely set his feet on the rug before Blaise - in the bed on Theo's other side - also whips open his curtains, looking far more alert than he ever has this early in the morning.

For several seconds, they stare at each other in silence. And then - because he isn't sure if the other three boys in the room are awake yet - Theo pitches his voice even lower than usual and says, "He said Malfoy spoke for us."

Blaise blinks twice, and then something like distaste curves up at one corner of his mouth. "I heard."

Theo nods. They're on the same page then. Neither of them is particularly keen on this opinion that Evans has regrettably formed, Theo because of obvious reasons, and Blaise because he's Blaise.

Blaise has always been strange. He's the type who gets along with everyone and gets along with no one. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone - biased Gryffindors aside - who would say a bad word about him, but they'd probably have to think a while if you asked them to describe something of personal significance about him too. It's not that he's average - he's never failed a class, and he's especially good at Potions - but for all that he can carry a conversation in a way that makes everyone feel comfortable and included, and he could probably talk rings around a politician without making them feel stupid, he also never lets anyone close enough to actually get to know him. He's approachable, but only when he wants you to approach him. He's generous with his smiles, but sometimes, it feels a little like he's laughing at you. He might say something condescending or spiteful to you one day, but he has the kind of charisma that makes you forget that the very next. People might call him friend and invite him over for a chat or a game of chess, but most don't make any attempts to go beyond that. And if you know what to look for, as Theo has learned to do, you would realize - Blaise views the world like it's one big boring joke, and his estimation of most of the people in it is probably somewhere around the level of dancing clowns.

Theo doesn't mind. The two of them aren't friends either. They're also not enemies though, and occasionally, they can be allies, but only when Blaise feels like it. Sometimes, the other boy will distract Malfoy from messing up Theo's potion in class or launching yet another diatribe on all of Theo's deficiencies, but Theo will never ask him to because he has nothing to repay Blaise with.

It works for them. Blaise does what Blaise wants, and even Malfoy can't control him. Theo is secretly envious of that— with the Zabinis' seat of power in Italy, it means they don't have that much clout in Britain, and yet nobody messes with Blaise, not even the few who don't buy into Blaise's charm or simply hate him because he's a Slytherin. Not even Malfoy messes with him, and even Theo can't tell if it's Malfoy's self-preservation instincts kicking in to ensure that he isn't about to go insulting someone with a black widow mother like Blaise's, or if Malfoy genuinely hasn't noticed that Blaise doesn't respect him at all no matter how pleasant his words can be. Honestly, when it comes to Malfoy, there's a decent chance of either option being true.

With all that in mind though, it's not a surprise that Blaise isn't pleased with being slotted in as one of Malfoy's lackeys, especially by someone as impressive - or, as Blaise might put it, entertaining - as Hadrian Evans has swiftly proved himself to be.

"It's fine," Blaise says next, rolling out of bed to get ready for the day. He's already regained his typical lazy slouch, as if he hadn't been just as terrified as the rest of them last night. His eyes slide to the bathroom, then away, unreadable but more focused than Theo's ever seen them. "We live in the same dorm, and we'll attend at least most of the same classes. He'll see soon enough that we don't share the same opinions as Malfoy."

Theo watches him dig into his wardrobe. "And then?"

"Then?" Blaise tips a more familiar look of knowing amusement at him. "Then you do what you want, and I'll do what I want, and at the very least, we'll have the good sense to not throw ourselves straight onto a hippogriff's talons like dear Draco."

Theo smothers a snort and rises to his feet. Neither he nor Blaise take Care of Magical Creatures, but everybody had heard of Malfoy's idiocy last year. The phrase "my father will hear about this!" had reached a record high by winter's end. Not much had come of it, not when Hagrid had had the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore championing him. Even Lucius Malfoy would - and had, more than once over the years - find it difficult to contend with the British wizarding world's vaunted war heroes when they join forces. In the end, Hagrid could continue teaching so long as he did it alongside a second professor hired by the school, and even the hippogriff got to live. Malfoy had not been happy, and he'd made sure everybody knew it too, but at least he'd also whined less about it once Slytherin House had learned to snigger about it where he wouldn't hear.

But 'throwing oneself onto a hippogriff's talons' had become rather popular vernacular ever since, subtle enough that even Malfoy couldn't call anyone out on using it without embarrassing himself, but funny to everyone who understood, and nobody could even say who'd started the phrase. Theo's money would be on Blaise though.

The bathroom is spelled so that nobody outside can hear anything when the door is shut, but they can hear the lock click open just fine, and almost in tandem, he and Blaise both immerse themselves in picking out their outfits for the day as if it's a task that requires every last bit of their attention.

Evans walks out. True to his word, he ignores them completely, neither greeting them nor sparing them a glance as he moves back to his section of the dorm. Theo watches him out of the corner of his eye as the boy folds his pyjamas away before proceeding to pack his bag. He catches a glimpse of an Ancient Runes textbook, and his mind abruptly flashes back to the quill. But… that can't be right.

Evans shuts his bag, pulls on his robes, and toes on his shoes. Like this, there's something vaguely familiar about him that Theo can't place right away, and the thought is gone again as Evans slings his bag over his shoulder and strides for the door.

He still doesn't look at any of them, and he's gone from the room a moment later. They might as well have been empty air.

Theo's fingers tighten around the shirt he's holding. Somehow, he-

-doesn't like it.

-0-

Malfoy gets up two minutes after Evans is gone, moving around with an exaggeratedly unaffected sort of poise that makes Theo want to roll his eyes. At least the blond doesn't try to make conversation until Crabbe and Goyle wake up as well.

Evans aside, Theo is the first out of the room, as per usual, although this time, Blaise accompanies him up to the common room and out of the Dungeon. It takes no time at all to arrive at the Great Hall, and this early, most of the four House tables are still empty of students, although more and more are gradually drifting in in groups of threes and fours.

Unlike the other Houses who like cramming into whatever space they see, Slytherins are more political about it. The end seats are left to the outcasts or first-years who don't know better yet, while the midway point of the table is typically reserved for the most influential students, such as those with the best grades or the largest range of social connections or the strongest family background, or some combination of the three. And everybody else arranges themselves between the two extremes accordingly. The only time that changes - from what Theo has heard - is when someone is so magically powerful that they can overwhelm everyone else. Then it doesn't matter what grades or connections or background they have because magic is respected most of all, although they would usually have some qualifications in those other areas. But either way, they would be given reigning place of pride in the middle with their chosen followers around them, and everybody else would sit where they're told to sit, regardless of their accomplishments.

Someone like that hasn't come along in fifty years though, not since the Dark Lord was still at Hogwarts.

So it's jarring to see Evans seated at the very end, furthest away from the High Table, with a book open in front of him and a steaming mug in one hand, but Theo supposes it shouldn't be. He's newly transferred in, and a halfblood besides, so he probably doesn't know about the traditional seating arrangement, and since it's still just the second day of school, it's not as if anybody else outside their dorm knows that Evans is anything but the unfortunate fourth-year with a muggle surname sorted into Slytherin, so he really can be considered an outcast.

Theo exchanges a look with Blaise before tentatively taking a seat at their usual spot a few feet away from the halfway point of the table. It doesn't feel right to… go over Evans' head like this, but it's not like they can really do anything about it at the moment. Theo in particular is technically sitting above his station, but his family is still one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, no matter how far it's fallen, and he gets decent grades in almost every class. He's also on friendly terms with Blaise, and the fact that he shares a dorm with Malfoy is a double-edged sword. Malfoy has the status to sit near the middle ever since he was a first-year, and it wouldn't look very good for him if he's seen completely spurning a Nott in his generation. So Theo is largely left alone so long as he looks like he's nominally part of Malfoy's group during mealtimes.

Theo spends the next five minutes sneaking sidelong glances down the table. Blaise does the same, and neither of them is obvious about it so nobody comes up to ask them any questions. Other Slytherins begin filing in, and more than one wrinkles their nose or sneers when they pass Evans, as if they've smelled something repulsive.

Theo has to make an effort not to wince every time it happens. Blaise watches with a shallow smirk hitched across his face and something cold and callous and thoroughly amused in his eyes.

By the time Malfoy - with Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him - sits down across from them, about half the table is full, plates of breakfast have started appearing, and Evans still hasn't looked up from his reading.

Malfoy - much less subtle - shoots something sulky and resentful with just a dash of fear down the table and mutters, "Doesn't even know how to sit properly."

Theo really does roll his eyes this time, although he makes sure to do it down at his scone. Before anyone can say anything else though, Evans unexpectedly straightens, his attention finally lifting from his book. Malfoy immediately stiffens as well like he thinks Evans had heard him from all the way down the table, which Theo wouldn't put past Evans's ability but also doesn't think that Evans thinks that Malfoy is worth that effort to eavesdrop on.

Evans looks around, but not at any of the Slytherins. He cranes his head over one shoulder, seems to catch sight of whatever he's looking for, and gets up, shutting his book and tossing it back in his bag. Then he's making his way across the Hall, past the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws, straight over to the Gryffindor table that's only partially filled at the moment but is also hosting the Golden Trio, who had just come down for breakfast.

 Evans stops a few feet away, and Longbottom, Weasley, and Granger turn to face him. What Theo can see of their expressions indicate that they're surprised and a little wary, but they also seem like they know each other. They converse about something, Weasley makes some exaggerated hand gestures, Granger smacks him, and then Evans says something else that makes the Gryffindors burst into laughter, startled but bright.

And then Evans moves forward and-

-sits down.

At the Gryffindor table.

Longbottom and Granger are smiling, and even Weasley - with his hatred for everything Slytherin - seems fine with it, going back to plating more food for himself while passing some sausages over to Evans.

In Theo's peripheral, Malfoy's face has lost so much colour that he could pass for a ghost. Theo can't tell if he's just that offended or if he's actually managed to comprehend the fact that he's already alienated possibly the most magically powerful student at Hogwarts from Slytherin House, to the point where that student doesn't even want to eat at the same table as them, and classes haven't even started yet.

Theo can't tell, nor does he care, but if he'd ever needed any more reasons to despise Draco Malfoy, this would be it.

He averts his gaze from Evans, even if the mere thought of him preferring a bunch of Gryffindors - and those Gryffindors at that; the only ones worse would be Potter's lot - over his own House is… grating. But staring isn't going to win Theo any favours and might just tick Evans off. Besides, there are plenty of others who have noticed a Slytherin sitting with Gryffindors, and they're staring enough for ten of him.

He starts on his breakfast. School has just begun. There's plenty more time in the future to observe Hadrian Evans.

-0-0-0-

4.

Within the space of a week, Theo is cautiously pleased to find that he shares all nine classes with Evans. The core subjects are mandatory of course, but in addition to Ancient Runes, Evans also takes Arithmancy, both of which Theo is also studying, and after three weeks, he gets a slightly more detailed picture of what Evans is capable of.

In class, Evans doesn't stand out, or at least not in a way most people would notice. He doesn't take the initiative to answer questions posed by the teachers, and his spells and potions aren't particularly dazzling when they're assigned practical classwork.

But every time a professor calls on him, Evans always answers correctly. Every time they have to practice a new spell, Evans doesn't clamour to be the first to show off, and he isn't the one who produces it with the most eye-catching burst of magic, but when he's asked to show his progress, he always does it exactly the way the teacher demonstrated it at the beginning of class. Even in Potions, all he does is work discreetly in the back corner on the Slytherin side of the room. He never finishes early, but he also never finishes late, never failing to turn in a textbook-perfect potion ten minutes before class ends, and a couple times, Theo catches Snape watching Evans with an inscrutable expression after the boy quietly hands in yet another flawless potion.

After three weeks, Theo can conclude that while Evans doesn't deliberately dumb himself down, and in fact is performing spectacularly across the board, he does it in such a reserved, inconspicuous manner that even most of the professors probably aren't going to notice until they've graded a good few months' worth of homework and tests.

He does it for every subject. Every single one, except Ancient Runes, and Theo is convinced that that's less because Evans didn't try, and more that… well, some brilliance just can't be hidden.

In the third week, when Babbling hands back their first assignment - Acceptables and Poors all around of course; some days, Theo isn't sure if he wants to strangle Babbling or himself, just to put himself out of the misery that is attempting to understand anything their Runes professor says - she holds Evans back at the end of class, and half the students snicker like they think he's in trouble or did so badly that even Babbling can't stand it, and it's the best joke they've ever seen. But two days later, some papers that Evans has left out on his desk while he's off doing something else, probably with his Gryffindor buddies, catch Theo's eye while he's on his way to his own desk. More specifically, the symbol of the Department of Magical Education stamped on them catches Theo's eye, and after some very hasty and very undignified neck-straining and squinting from a prudent five feet away, he more or less understands.

Babbling hadn't held Evans back because he was doing badly. Babbling had held him back because he was doing so good he would be sitting his Ancient Runes O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams on the twenty-third of October.

Three minutes after that revelation, Theo's still sitting somewhat dazed in his chair when Malfoy returns, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. The blond also spots the papers on Evans' desk and - after suffering day after day of, in Malfoy's increasingly belligerent opinion, being disgraced by Evans due to all the time he was spending with Gryffindors, and even three of the ones Malfoy hates most - practically lights up with a malicious sort of glee at the opportunity to get a little revenge.

He seems to have already forgotten that first night's lesson, and it hasn't even been a month yet. Sometimes, Theo is honestly baffled by Malfoy's Sorting into Slytherin. What ambition is there in a boy whose solution to everything in life is to fall back on his father and surname and family money? What cunning is there to speak of when he so often acts without even considering the option of leaving himself a way out, just in case his taunts and schemes backfire on him one day?

Or perhaps the real mystery is how he's managed to go this long without anyone telling him that the world won't always bend to his demands.

"O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams?" Malfoy says loudly as he wanders over to read the papers. He scoffs. "No matter how much magic he has, there's no way that's possible. He's just a fourth-year. And a halfblood! I bet he paid Babbling to sign him up for them. Everybody knows she's not all there so Evans wouldn't even have to pay her a lot to persuade her."

Theo flicks a glance at Blaise, who'd brought up the rear, a few seconds behind Malfoy, and had entered on near-inaudible footsteps in time to witness this latest snowballing disaster. The taller boy's lip curls, and his next words come out in such a nonchalant drawl that it takes a moment for Malfoy to register the bite of them, "Why would he do that though? He's not you."

Malfoy flushes an unflattering shade of red. "Zabini! That's not funny!"

Blaise's insults are always taken as jokes. Theo thinks that's the only way Malfoy can weather them, because he doesn't truly dare to cross Blaise, so even if he does know better, he still has to feign ignorance.

"It can't be possible," Malfoy repeats, turning back to the papers. "Otherwise, why hasn't he said anything about it? If it were me, I'd let everyone know! Obviously, he knows he'll fail, so he doesn't dare to spread it around."

Theo tries to wrap his mind around that logic, fails, and gives it up as a bad job.

"Then, why is he taking them?" Crabbe suddenly pipes up, blinking with a befuddled air in Malfoy's direction.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "Obviously, Crabbe, it's to impress the Boy Who Lived. You've seen how Evans is constantly fawning over Longbottom." And there's the jealousy leaking into his voice even as it strengthens as if he's gaining confidence in his conjecture the longer he speaks. "He's still just a vulgar halfblood with subpar upbringing after all. He needs political connections if he wants to make anything of himself in our world. And Longbottom's a soft touch, and an idiot besides at everything that isn't digging in the dirt. Just trying to take the exams is probably enough to make him think Evans is a genius."

He takes another step forward, almost hovering over the desk now, childish spite tarnishing his features. "Let's see what the rest of Slytherin thinks of this. We are in the same House so Evans should look for support from real purebloods. I'll help him out."

Malfoy reaches out, and Theo goes still, staring, avid and unblinking.

(Greedy.)

Hadrian Evans does not disappoint him.

Malfoy's hand lands on the papers, and it's as if a miniature explosion takes place. There's no warning as the desk ignites with enough interlocked, interwoven, bloody intricate runes to send anyone reeling. It blankets the entire desk in layers of circles and lines and eye-watering spirals, before even those disappear in a blaze of brilliant silver light that pulses once before bursting outward and knocking Malfoy clean off his feet.

Malfoy screams as he's sent flying across the room in a tangle of flailing limbs and flapping robes. Coincidentally - or not? - he lands on his bed in a graceless upside-down heap, the bag he's still wearing smacks him in the face, and the momentum tumbles him straight over the far side of his bed and onto the floor with a final muffled thump that cuts Malfoy's shriek to a yelp.

The light disappears, along with the runes. The room goes eerily quiet, and for a long moment, nobody moves.

It's Blaise who reacts first.

He laughs.

It's enough to snap Malfoy out of his stupor. The blond scrambles to right himself, pushing to his feet, fury and humiliation writ large across his face as he opens his mouth to shout, "Shut up, Zabini! Wait until my father hears about this! Evans will regret-"

There's a clatter. The door opens.

Malfoy shuts up so fast Theo wouldn't be surprised if he bit his tongue.

Evans steps inside, and then stops. He looks around, looks at his desk, looks at a still dishevelled and increasingly pallid Malfoy, and then he shuts the door behind him and heaves a very deep sigh.

"Seriously?" He asks in rhetorical tones. "I just went to borrow a library book. I couldn't have been gone for more than thirty minutes."

Nobody says anything. Evans sighs again before striding over to his desk. He raises a hand and combs his fingers through the air— or perhaps something only he could see, and that's proven correct as a runic array shimmers into existence, swirling together before reshaping itself into-

-a memory.

Specifically, it's a replay of everything Malfoy had said and done as soon as he'd gotten within three feet of Evans' belongings, complete with sound and colour. It's basically a pensieve without the pensieve or the removal of memories to supply it.

Theo wants so badly that his teeth ache with the leashed desire to ask a million questions immediately.

Patience, he reminds himself.

"Hm," Evans says once the memory's run its course, and the runes wisp away once more. Theo is both surprised and not when the other boy proceeds to pull out his chair, sit down, and dig out his library book, clearly intent to continue his work.

Behind him, Malfoy seethes, and before he can think better of it, or he simply doesn't think, he barks out, "Do you think you can treat me this way, Evans? Do you know who my father is? When I tell him about this-"

"Tell him then," Evans interjects, leaning back to slant a cool look at Malfoy. "Tell him you tried to steal my things, and my wards tossed you onto your bed, and the only thing it really bruised was your ego. Or you can lie and make up something that would make you more of a victim, and big bad mudblood Hadrian Evans bullied you terribly. What's the worst that could happen? Expulsion?" He huffs a laugh, and as far as Theo can tell, the thread of mirth that laces the sound is astonishingly sincere. "Malfoy, I don't actually care. I don't need Hogwarts."

He really doesn't. Worse comes to worst, which other school would be daft enough to not scoop him up if they see what he can do with runes? And that's not even getting into everything else he can do. Any school would accept him in a heartbeat and then laugh themselves to tears if Lucius Malfoy actually managed to get him ejected from Britain's sphere of influence on some trumped up charges just because his son went crying to him. Besides, since Evans had been previously homeschooled, he could always just return to that as well.

Malfoy opens his mouth, then closes it, and he does that a couple times, eyes wide in his face like he's never met anyone who has stonewalled him this way, who has challenged his authority so directly, more than once, and yet remains utterly unintimidated and untouchable.

Evidently, he never has.

Evans regards him for a few seconds more before sighing once more. "I thought I was clear enough that first night, but apparently not. When I say 'attack', I don't just mean with a wand. All my things are off-limits unless I say otherwise, so if I were you, I would keep my hands to myself. You don't want to know what my wards will do to you if they sense intentions worse than just petty theft. I hope you won't forget again."

He holds Malfoy's faltering gaze for a moment longer before turning back to his books and papers. Malfoy stumbles back a step as if he's been physically released, and he looks like he wants to pitch a temper tantrum but also doesn't dare. In the end, he storms out of the room without even straightening his robes or smoothing back his hair, and nobody tries to stop him or go after him, not even Crabbe or Goyle, who've both retreated to their beds, shoulders hunched, almost bowed, angled almost in Evans' direction.

Evans is already poring over his library book though, quill in one hand, inkwell set out, fresh parchment beside it. It's clear he's done interacting with the lot of them.

Theo almost lets it go, as he has every other time he wants to speak to Evans, to ask him questions, to know. He's already biting his tongue and swallowing down the words and opening his bag to fish out his homework.

Except-

It's been three weeks. Theo can be patient when he has to be, but more and more, it's… starting to feel like he doesn't have to be. He's had an entire childhood's worth of practice at dissecting emotions, at looking at a person's face and words and actions and taking all of them into account to figure out how they really feel, if they're angry at him or upset with him, if they're about to lash out even when they're smiling, or if there's still time to appease them even if they look like they're about to go for their wand.

Evans is harder to read than most, but at the very least, Theo can tell that he doesn't get angry often. In fact, there's only ever been that one time, that first night, and even for most of that incident, Evans had only acted to secure his own safety in their dorm once it became clear that Malfoy wasn't going to leave him alone otherwise. None of it had been driven by rage, not even when he'd nearly drowned them in the undertow of his magic over that particular handful of words Malfoy had jeered at him. And ever since then, Evans hasn't done anything except go about his business while ignoring theirs. That went for the rest of Slytherin too, and even some students in other Houses who don't like the fact that he's a Slytherin. Sometimes, they make snide remarks, usually behind his back, sometimes within his hearing range, and to a man, every student in their House has openly shunned him since he went to sit with the Golden Trio that first breakfast, but Evans has never given them a second glance, or really even a first glance, not out of anger or embarrassment or distress, and certainly not out of any desire for them to accept him, which just seems to offend them even more. But Evans is simply… indifferent to it all.

 Most importantly, as much as Theo has been able to conclude, Evans isn't prone to violence. He always seems calm and easygoing when he's with the Golden Trio, and quiet the rest of the time. And from the very beginning, he's never done anything to harm any fellow Slytherins, not even Malfoy. Even his wards seem to have some kind of function worked into them that would rate the level of threat first and only respond with the same degree of damage.

Actually, not the same— if Malfoy had been caught taking another Slytherin's documents without permission, important or not, it wouldn't be too much even if they cursed his hands in return. They probably wouldn't, because it's Malfoy, and people are used to being more lenient with him, but normally, even Malfoy wouldn't do something that gauche anyway. No matter how much they've spoiled him, his parents have at least taught him pureblood etiquette. He's never even tried to rifle through Theo's belongings.

 Admittedly, Theo had committed a slight faux pas as well when his curiosity had prompted him to read those Ministry forms, even if they were laid out on Evans' desk - unintentionally seeing them in passing was fine but the polite thing to do would've been to keep walking - but at least he hadn't been stupid enough to get too close, let alone put a single finger on them. Malfoy really only has his own poor impulse control to blame for going too far yet again, and Theo has every right to judge him for it.

 Although since it was Evans, Malfoy had probably categorized him as someone who doesn't deserve a pureblood's courtesy.

Even then though, Evans hadn't retaliated with anything more than the ward equivalent of a watered down Knockback Jinx, which is basically a common prank amongst rowdier students. Malfoy's pride had - once again - been hurt, but nothing else, even when it would've been Evans' right. And he hadn't gotten angry this time either.

Of course, Theo isn't foolish enough to think Evans isn't capable of violence when he wants to be. If he's pushed far enough, Theo is certain that the other boy could and would inflict some significant damage that would at least end with a visit to the Hospital Wing. Perhaps it was his magic, the relentless weight of it that said it wouldn't hesitate to crush them if they proved themselves a real threat. Or perhaps it was Evans himself, who looks at Malfoy after each stunt like he's putting up with a recalcitrant child that he has to go easy on because said child is too young to know better, except the detachment in his gaze also says that he's weighing Malfoy's age on a scale and waiting for the day his youth will no longer be able to compensate for his actions.

Frankly, Theo hopes that day will come soon. But that's his pettiness talking, and Malfoy in general is none of his concern. What Theo really wants is to learn all those things for himself. Well, not all, he's more than self-aware enough to know he's nowhere near as powerful as Evans, but some of those things - the spellwork, the runes - surely those things can be taught to others even if they don't have incredible amounts of magic? Even if it's slow-going and difficult, Theo isn't afraid to work for it.

So long as he learns even just a little of what Evans knows - and he clearly knows so much, knows the things that can actually be useful in real life - then perhaps, one day, maybe even before he graduates Hogwarts… escaping his father won't be a fool's hope anymore. And if there's a chance that he can do that, then no matter how exorbitant the price Evans names, Theo would be willing to pay it, even if it takes him the rest of his life to honour the debt.

But nothing's going to happen if they're not even on speaking terms. It's been three weeks. Already three weeks. Only three weeks. Maybe it really is still too soon, but at the very least, Theo doesn't think Evans will do anything worse than say no.

 At his back, he can feel Blaise's eyes on him, but he doesn't turn around.

 "Is that-" His voice doesn't crack, thankfully, but it comes out croakier than normal, giving away his nervousness. He bites back the urge to hex himself and tries again. "Is that taught by the time we graduate?"

 Evans… doesn't react, doesn't even look up. For several tense and increasingly awkward seconds, Theo thinks maybe the other boy will just continue ignoring him, or maybe he even thinks Theo is speaking to one of the others, not him.

 But then he writes something down and flips a page of his book, and then he raises his head and shifts away from his desk to face Theo.

 It's a little daunting, to suddenly have that piercing bright green regard aimed straight at him, but there's also no hostility that Theo can see, and that settles some of his nerves.

 Evans looks at him, then frowns, then asks in return, blunt, but amazingly, willingly enough, "You mean the wards?"

 Theo nods carefully, making sure he doesn't look too eager or too demanding. Masters of their trades are always rightfully reticent about their knowledge and skills to anyone who isn't their own mentor or apprentice, unless they're a teacher. Evans may not be a master signed and sealed and authorized to practice, but nobody who can write the exams at fourteen can be considered an amateur.

 Evans shrugs. "I haven't exactly flipped through the Ancient Runes syllabus of every year so I can't really say. If it continues at the same pace as third-year and fourth-year though, then probably not. You'd maybe get to the point of basic wards, but not much more than that. Compound wards like these-" He raps his knuckles against his own desk. "-put crudely, requires the use of runic coils to weave together multiple basic arrays, on multiple levels, in varying sequential order depending on how multifaceted you want the wards to be. It's not that difficult once you start getting some practice in, but from what I hear, you guys don't even begin practical work until after your O.W.L., which… I don't really get, but maybe Hogwarts is big on theoretical learning. But yeah, at that rate, I don't see how you could be constructing something like this by graduation."

 Theo's head is spinning. He didn't understand… anything in that summary except perhaps a general idea of "basic arrays". It's rare for him to feel so stupid.

 Evans is still watching him, and he doesn't seem impatient for their exchange to be over, or irritated that it's taking place at all. He looks like he's waiting for Theo to reply, so Theo hurries on to keep the conversation afloat.

 "So you didn't learn Runes following the Hogwarts curriculum when you were homeschooled," He surmises. "Does that mean the standards here fall short of the international schools?"

 It wouldn't be the first time. Britain's educational requirements have been growing more and more lenient for years. Correspondingly, their elective options have also been reduced to four due to budget cuts and lack of interest in anything harder than petting animals and making up death predictions. Every year, more second-years choose to sign up for Care and Divination than they do Arithmancy or Runes. It's one reason why the number of incoming students has been gradually declining and consists of more muggleborns than purebloods. Foreign schools are strict about accepting any children outside of their designated countries, but those in Great Britain and Ireland who want better for their kids and can afford the higher prices tend to prefer sending them to one international school or another instead of Hogwarts.

 But Evans shakes his head. "I wouldn't know that either. I didn't really follow any official curriculum when I was learning." He pauses a beat, like he's thinking about how much to reveal, or even why he's revealing anything, but then he seems to decide it doesn't much matter. "The person who taught me was a bit… unconventional about it. He was a very good teacher, but he wasn't actually a teacher with the degree and whatever else you need to be a Ministry-approved professor, so he didn't really care about following some checklist of what a student attending a magical school was supposed to learn. Plus he was kind of a genius at runes. Ward-cracking and disassembly in particular since that's what he majored in - he was a Curse-Breaker - but he was pretty good at almost everything else too, which meant he found the basic stuff pretty boring. So when he taught me, and he realized I didn't have any trouble getting the foundations down, and I could mostly keep up even when he skipped ahead to more advanced stuff, he basically ended up just jumping between the subjects he liked most, filled in any gaps along the way, and gave me free rein to research whatever I found interesting. And whatever topic I picked was the one he lectured on, or helped me look up if it was one of the few areas he didn't know much about."

 His expression turns wry, if only for a moment. "Apparently though, according to Babbling, that means there's nothing left for Hogwarts to teach me. But I don't know how I would compare to students in other schools."

 He finishes and falls silent. It's the most he's said since that first night, and it's clear as day that whoever this Curse-Breaker tutor was, Evans respects him a great deal, great enough to ramble on about him to a roomful of near-strangers, and considering what he'd had a hand in molding Evans into, he deserves every bit of that respect too.

 Theo envies it. He is oft a creature of envy, and it hollows him out a little more every time it rears its head, but he's resigned to it. He wonders why Hogwarts can't have a teacher like Evans' instead of the whimsical mess that is Babbling, who can never get through a single class without her train of thought wandering away like an untrained dog off its leash.

 "Then," Theo continues, carefully neutral, carefully watching for any signs of displeasure on Evans' face. "Once you pass your exams, will you simply have an extra study period slot? Or will you be required to attend another elective?"

 Evans blinks at him. "The first, I think. I might see if it's possible to take an owl-distance university course or something, but spare time in my day isn't bad either."

 "Then," Theo forges on, watching as Evans's mouth twists a little, like he knows that this is what Theo has been aiming for from the beginning. Theo can't tell if he disapproves though - he doesn't think so - and it's too late to divert his course anyway. "What do you think about tutoring?"

 Evans cocks an eyebrow. He doesn't say anything for several anxiety-inducing seconds, just scrutinizing Theo with a face blank enough to rival Snape's when he bothers to stop sneering. The quill in Evans' hand taps-taps-taps against his desk before the boy swings around in his chair completely to face Theo.

 "Tutoring," He repeats. "You want me to tutor you in Ancient Runes?"

 And at least he doesn't sound derisive, nor does he put any particular emphasis on any part of that question. It does make it harder for Theo to gauge how he should respond though.

 "Yes," He confirms, because straightforward seems to be what Evans prefers. He thinks, briefly, of including Blaise, but he doesn't actually know if Blaise would like tutoring as well, and even if he does, Blaise can ask for himself. Theo isn't that charitable, and Blaise might even take offense if he tries to be.

 "I can compensate you for your time," He adds, because he's poor by pureblood standards, but not so poor that he can't afford decent education, especially with the nest egg he's been secretly building on the side since he turned eight and realized his inheritance was only going to get smaller at the rate his father was drawing from it for his… extracurriculars. His seven years at Hogwarts at least have already been paid for, robes and supplies and even some pocket money included, because even Silas Nott isn't going to let his son go into public at even more of a disadvantage than he already is. So as long as Evans doesn't ask for a huge sum of money, or even if he does, and he's willing to take part of that payment in favours, then Theo should have enough from his own funds to cover the cost.

 Evans leans back in his seat and doesn't say anything about payment. Instead, he looks almost puzzled as he asks, "Why do you need tutoring though? Even if you want to learn stuff like this," He motions at his desk. "I wouldn't be able to even start teaching you how until you got at least the basics down, and that's what Hogwarts teaches, so is there any point in getting more of the same lessons from me?"

 For a moment, even Theo can't come up with a way to say 'yes, because Babbling can't teach worth a damn, and I don't actually know how I passed last year but I definitely won't this year with the way her lectures keep getting lost somewhere between class and Atlantis every bloody week' but in more polite terms, if only because Evans might not appreciate anyone badmouthing her since she's obviously the one vouching for Evans' qualifications in order to let him take his exams so early.

 Fortunately, Blaise has no such compunctions.

 "Have you seen the way Babbling teaches?" The other boy enquires in his usual lackadaisical tone, just aggrieved enough to sound invested, but mild enough to leech the provocation out of it. It also gives Blaise a foot in through the door, drawing Evans' attention to him without making it seem as if he's interrupting.

 Theo glances behind him at where Blaise is now lounging in his own desk chair, emptying his bag of textbooks and papers even as he glances over to meet Evans' gaze, and his expression has eased into an invitation to commiserate over Babbling's questionable teaching methods. All of it is designed to look casual and cordial, to keep this fragile first exchange lighthearted, if also full of a resigned sort of exasperation, funnelled together in order to lower Evans' guard.

 And it seems to work too, like it does with everyone Blaise turns his charms on. At the very least, the way Evans' mouth quirks in response looks reflexive enough to be genuine.

 "That's fair," Evans concedes, a wry sort of humour suffusing his voice. "She's not the best at… staying on topic."

 Theo has to suppress a snort, but something of it must show on his face anyway because Evans' eyes snap back to him, and a moment later, a quicksilver grin flits across the other's face, bright in a way that lights up his whole face, and perhaps Blaise will have to try harder after all because Theo realizes that this is what genuine looks like on Evans.

 "Okay, I get why you might want a tutor," Evans acknowledges. "But isn't there anyone better for that?"

 Theo blinks at him. "Better than someone who's ready to take his exams in a month?"

 Evans' eyebrows go up briefly, and something in his eyes sharpens. "No. Better than someone who's a halfblood orphan in Slytherin, stuck in a one-sided grudge-match with a pureblood brat who has all the maturity of a toddler and isn't going to be very happy if his friend starts hanging around the guy he wants to curse into the Hospital Wing."

 Orphan? is Theo's first thought, followed by, I wish Malfoy was around to hear that. But all of it is superseded by a defiance that bursts out of him before he can curb it, "We're not friends."

 Evans waves a hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Slytherins don't have friends. What I mean is-"

 "No," Theo says, wincing internally at how he'd cut Evans off mid-sentence. "I mean, we aren't friends. Normally, we aren't even civil acquaintances most days."

 Evans eyes him for a long moment like he can hear all the things Theo isn't saying. Theo's pretty sure Evans doesn't know about his family's circumstances - How would he? Why would he even care to look it up? - but he seems to be able to glean at least the gist of it in a single glance because he seems to accept it easily enough, and the next thing he says is, "Alright, but that doesn't change the fact that he's still not going to be happy about it."

 "Good," Theo says, once again before he can stop himself, and with more relish than he should convey. Even if he's often thought that anything that made Malfoy unhappy was a good thing, he's certainly never expressed it out loud. He doesn't know what's come over him, only that there's something about the way Evans is watching him, patient and without judgement, that makes him… bolder than he normally would be.

 And since he's already opened his mouth, he might as well keep going.

 "So long as you're willing, I don't mind what other people might say," Theo says as firmly as he knows how to be. "I need to raise my grades for Ancient Runes before I take my OWLs next year or I'm never going to pass. I would appreciate any tutoring you can spare the time for." He hesitates, but only for a beat. "If you want, in addition to monetary compensation, I can also snub Malfoy at dinner somehow. And you would know it wouldn't just be some show we put on either. Malfoy doesn't have it in him to be humiliated in public, even as a stunt."

 It's far more outspoken and far more audacious than Theo is accustomed to being, and he can feel Blaise's eyes on him again. But he gets the impression that if he doesn't put his cards on the table - that he really does want to learn from Evans, that it's his main motivation, even if it isn't the only one - then Evans might think Theo is playing some kind of trick on him, possibly on Malfoy's orders, and that's the last thing Theo wants him to believe.

 Besides, this is also an opportunity. Theo had been resigned to living under Malfoy's temperamental rule for the duration of his Hogwarts career. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be doing more of the same as an adult, after all. Considering the difference in their social status, Theo would still have to bow his head, and jump when told to jump, and remain courteously - or at least forbearingly - deferential in front of Malfoy whenever they see each other. At least this more childish version at school is giving him plenty of practice for the future.

 But now, there is Hadrian Evans, whose existence no one had expected and no one thus far can control, who isn't afraid of Malfoy, whom Malfoy is afraid of instead, and Theo honestly can't see that changing. Of course, the real world is very different from some squabbles between teenagers, and Theo has only known Evans for less than a month. But… call it instinct. Even if one day the Malfoy family can really make it so that Evans can no longer live well in Britain, Theo gets the sense that the other boy would rather up and move to a different country than ever submit to anyone.

 People with inborn power like Evans won't bow. They don't know how to.

 And if Theo can get even a fraction of that protection that openly siding with Evans might earn him, then the choice is obvious. He's long known that he isn't powerful enough or ambitious enough or even brave enough to stand on his own. That in order to thrive, or even to simply live a satisfactory life, it would be best to choose someone's shadow to settle in. Preferably, that someone would be willing enough to leave Theo alone most of the time and wouldn't ask too much of him, but he already knows he wouldn't be able to get that from his father or Malfoy.

 Then, there's no point clinging to either of them. Before, there had been no other choices, and between his father and Malfoy, Malfoy was the better bet, though it wasn't as if the blond ponce could've gotten him out from under Silas Nott's thumb either. But at least being - loosely - affiliated with Malfoy would, in the future, offer Theo some protection from his father's obsessive tendencies. It wouldn't do for one of Malfoy's circle of acquaintances to disappear under mysterious circumstances after all.

 Now there's a new player on the field. Of course, Evans probably doesn't see himself as one, and wouldn't care even if he knew. But that doesn't change the fact that his shadow casts a long and looming line, and somehow, it feels more like a refuge than anyone else's Theo has ever come across. Evans might not be willing to protect him, if only because he would have to make himself known to do so, and if there's one thing Evans has shown over the past few weeks, it's that he much prefers staying in the background. But even if he isn't willing to protect Theo, at the very least, he can teach Theo how to protect himself. So, Theo might as well take his chances with Evans, and the first step in doing that is to make it very clear to all and sundry that he's throwing his lot in with the halfblood Slytherin transfer.

 He hadn't quite been prepared to go this far when he'd first decided to speak to Evans today, but doing things by half measures doesn't bode well for him either. Prevaricating or at least being vaguer about his intentions might leave him an extra hand to play, a way to retreat in case associating with Evans becomes too dangerous one day, but no one likes a fence-sitter.

 In Slytherin, every decision is a power play, whether it seems like it or not. An insignificant word or action might result in large consequences that aren't always obvious until the waves and ripples have settled. And Theo's never been much of a gambler, preferring safety over potential riches. But the things he can learn from Evans are too tempting to pass over. Put in plain terms, he's technically using Evans as a means to an end, which no one in Slytherin wouldn't approve of, but for a good chunk of this House, Evans' blood would definitely outweigh any usefulness he might have, especially since he hasn't publicly proven himself in any way at all. And the way he spends all his free time with Gryffindors hardly helps.

 Still, it's a risk Theo's willing to take. And now the Quaffle is in Evans' hands, and all that's left is to wait for his answer.

 Of course, if Evans says no, then Theo can only hope Blaise is feeling magnanimous today and won't go spreading this little story around. Then again, there's Crabbe and Goyle too, and they'll definitely tell Malfoy, so it will get out either way.

 Such is Slytherin, where the only shared secret you can trust to remain a secret is when all other parties are dead.

 In front of him, Evans only raises his eyebrows for a moment before amusement quirks one corner of his mouth. "Well you don't have to go that far."

 Theo can't tell if the other boy understands the implications of publicly cutting ties with Malfoy, but he's relieved to hear it anyway. He'd do it if it's a condition Evans sets, if only to alleviate any concerns Evans might have of being played, but it's not as if he wants to do it. He would happily see Malfoy humiliated any day of the week, but Theo is at heart an introverted person. Open confrontation of any kind will always make him uncomfortable.

 Evans studies him for a while longer as if weighing his sincerity. Eventually, he says, "I'm not opposed to tutoring. Actually, I'm already doing that for Hermione every Wednesday and Saturday. Adding one more doesn't make much of a difference. It's just that I don't love tutoring so much that I want to do it more than twice a week. So," He smiles, and this time, his expression is one of a sharp sort of curiosity. "If you want me to tutor you, then you'll have to be okay with Hermione. And I don't just mean tolerating her presence enough to sit at the same table as her. I mean if you say one bad word about her blood, I'll take that as an attack on me and react accordingly. Understand?"

 Theo blinks once, twice, digesting that ultimatum with something like disbelief because- "Is that all?" And then, because it couldn't possibly be that easy, he hastily tacks on, "How much would you like to be paid?"

 Evans blinks back at him, looking like he's re-evaluating Theo on the spot. Then he makes a dismissive gesture and says, "I'm not short on money. Also I don't make Hermione pay so it wouldn't be fair if I made you pay." He sits back with a finality that starts bringing an end to their conversation. "Wednesdays and Saturdays, 4-6pm in the library. I know we share all the same classes so that shouldn't be a problem for you. Showing up isn't mandatory, you can just come whenever you want, and I'll tutor you in whatever you need help with. My only condition is that you treat Hermione with basic respect. Of course," His mouth twists into a strange smile. "That goes for her too. And her friends if they happen to stop by."

 Theo has to suppress a grimace at that, but it's mostly out of reflexive distaste. Even if Weasley starts flinging insults, he's sure he's heard worse than anything a Gryffindor could come up with, and his tolerance is high, so it doesn't much matter whether Evans can prevent it or not. Actually, it's already pretty novel that he would try at all. This is by far the easiest and weirdest deal Theo has ever been offered, which only makes him that much more suspicious, but Evans also adds no other terms, so Theo is forced to conclude that this really is all Evans wants from him.

 The sheer unfairness of what each party is bringing to the table is jarring. Does Evans not understand what's happening here or is he seriously willing to offer up his time and knowledge on a silver platter at basically no cost?

 Part of Theo wants to ask again, to make sure Evans really doesn't want anything else, but since they've come to this point, even if Evans were to ask for something in the future, Theo would have no obligation to give it. It's admittedly somewhat uncomfortable, to receive so much in exchange for giving back so little when he wasn't even the one manipulating Evans towards this outcome, but at the same time, wouldn't he just be stupid if he keeps pushing the issue? Complaining about not having to spend any money or owe any favours seems rather counterproductive, and even though Theo is willing to pay for a chance like this, that doesn't mean he wants to if he doesn't have to. Of course, he supposes it isn't very honourable of him to not at least insist on some form of compensation, but that's why Theo isn't a Gryffindor.

 So then.

 "Very well, I agree to your terms," Theo says, letting himself relax a bit more when Evans' expression doesn't change. And because even a Slytherin should acknowledge genuine goodwill, he shoves past his own discomfort and manages, if a bit stiffly, "Thank you, Evans."

 Evans makes a face that's something left of embarrassed. "It's just tutoring, you don't have to be so formal. Besides, you're still the one who's going to have to put up with Malfoy pitching a fit once he finds out."

 Theo almost shrugs. That's not anything new. He might have to field some curses hurled his way once other Slytherins realize he's no longer under Malfoy's "protection" and is seen spending time with a halfblood, but it's not as if he has no way of protecting himself from most spells that a student can get away with using in public at Hogwarts. He already has a few family wards set up around his bed too, so Malfoy can't get to him while he's asleep, and the only time he spends in the Common Room is when he's crossing it to leave the Dungeon or return to his dorm, so his Housemates aren't likely to be able to corner him there either. So long as he's careful, he'll be fine.

 Blaise's voice cuts into his thoughts, speaking this time with the lightest touch of concern seeping out from behind a thin veil of indifference that would've fooled even Theo if Theo didn't know the way Blaise can change his approach like he's changing clothes depending on his assessment of the person he's talking to. "You sure you don't need to ask Granger first before letting a Slytherin join your tutoring sessions? She might not be too happy to have Theo there. And her friends definitely won't."

 Evans' attention shifts again, and as with Theo, his gaze is neither friendly nor hostile, but it's different all the same in a way Theo can't quite name. "Is that my problem?"

 The room is quiet for a beat.

 Evans smiles, careless, casual. "I'm the one doing the teaching. Who I teach should be up to me, shouldn't it?"

 Blaise stares, unblinking, hands finally gone still. "Aren't those Gryffindors your friends though?"

 "Sure," Evans agrees. "Still doesn't mean they get to tell me what to do just because they're biased against Slytherins." He shakes his head. "I doubt it'll be much of a problem though. Like you said, they're my friends, and aren't I a Slytherin too?"

 Nobody says what Theo is certain they're all thinking— that in many ways, Evans isn't anything like your average Slytherin.

 (And in others, Evans is the very epitome of one, but the Golden Trio probably doesn't know that, do they?)

 "Are you saying other Slytherins are welcome in your tutoring sessions then?" Blaise says next, and it's the most straightforward Theo has ever seen him, skipping at least three prevarications and five backhanded compliments that Theo could've sworn Blaise would normally include just because he doesn't know any other way to speak. Apparently not.

 Except Evans' response is to huff a breath that sounds like laughter, except not in any way they've heard before, not as amicable, and Theo sees Blaise's smile grow a little fixed.

 If they were in the business of distributing vices, then excessive hubris would undoubtedly go to Malfoy, but only because Blaise doesn't have the same reckless self-defeating habit of flaunting what he has everywhere and retaliating like a rabid lapdog the moment he feels slighted, the latter of which is helped along by the fact that he doesn't hold many people in high enough esteem for them to offend him. After all, you wouldn't get mad if a ghost or a goblin or even a house-elf - as unlikely as that is - is rude to you, would you? At most, you'd punish the latter and move along with your day. And for those who do register enough as people in Blaise's eyes, well, Blaise far prefers retaliating when the other party least expects it.

 It's the same now, in the way Blaise blinks twice rapidly but doesn't otherwise react. Of course, since this is Evans, he won't be able to retaliate later either, not with any kind of success, so it's doubly impressive that the other boy manages to keep his pride nailed down and tucked away.

 "You know," Evans says lazily, mirth or perhaps mockery gleaming in his eyes. "You could just ask. Take a leaf out of Theo's book; it wastes less time."

 Because even Blaise's straightforwardness needs to take a stroll or two around the block first, and apparently, Evans had caught onto that possibly since the first time Blaise had opened his mouth since this conversation began.

 Blaise's lips thin, but after a moment of no doubt weighing the pros and cons, he shrugs gracefully like it doesn't sting and asks, "Then, may I join your tutoring sessions, Evans? I would also appreciate some assistance with my Ancient Runes studies. Of course, I will abide by the terms you've set as well."

 Theo listens and wonders just how much self-control those three sentences took. Before today, he hadn't even known Blaise was capable of it, and the fact that he is, for this, actually says a lot more about his regard for Evans than Theo had realized even just a minute ago.

 At least Evans doesn't make it harder for Blaise than that.

 "Sure," The other boy acquiesces with the air of a predator sitting back on its haunches. "On your own head though."

 At this, a trace of a smirk - his real one, beatific in its cruelty, instead of his regular fit-for-public one - cuts across Blaise's face for the span of a heartbeat. "No problem."

 Evans levels another long look at him before shaking his head with another twist of a smile. "Okay then. We're all good now?" He looks from Blaise to Theo and even spares half a glance in Crabbe and Goyle's direction before nodding, satisfied. "Fantastic. Back to work for me."

 He spins back around to face his desk, reaching for his quill, and the rest of the day passes as usual, without another word traded between them, even when they all get up for dinner. Malfoy comes back shortly before that, stalking over to his section of the dorm with the mulish single-minded intensity of someone unwilling to even acknowledge Evans' existence, although that probably won't last once he finds out what Theo and Blaise have agreed to.

 Later, in private, Theo remarks to Blaise, "I didn't expect you to care so much about your Ancient Runes grades."

 Blaise slants an indecipherable look at him even as a shallow smile stretches the width of his mouth. "Who wouldn't care about their grades when someone's offering to help raise them for free?"

 It's a rhetorical question and answers approximately nothing, but Theo wasn't expecting anything of substance anyway.

 Besides, when it comes down to it, he supposes it's not so surprising that Blaise can also see which way the wind is blowing, hard enough to tell anyone with decent enough instincts that a major shift in power is imminent.

 And no one likes a fence-sitter.

 -0-0-0-

 5.

 Hadrian would like it to be known that he isn't quite sure how he's gotten to this point in his life.

 Well, that's a lie, he sort of knows, or at least he can pinpoint all the decisions that got him from Point A to Point B, but he supposes he just wasn't expecting a couple Slytherins whom he'd always assumed - even back in his original world - were just Malfoy's lackeys in school, to commit, and commit hard. They hadn't even participated in the war on either side, as far as he was aware— Nott had died relatively early on under mysterious circumstances, and Zabini had by all accounts returned to his home country. To Hadrian, they'd been little more than faces in the background that he'd never even exchanged five words with in total before coming to this world.

 But within the first week after they've asked to join his tutoring sessions, Nott and Zabini - Slytherin/Pureblood Rule Number Who-Knows-What: you can't use someone else's first name until you're invited to - make it really fucking obvious who they're… supporting? Have sided with? Because Slytherin is a nest of brewing factions and shifting alliances and political doublespeak and even a couple blood feuds, and this is precisely why Hadrian doesn't want anything to do with this House.

 Except apparently, agreeing to tutor Nott and Zabini means he's… joined the power struggle? Formed his own faction? Decided to vie for in-House supremacy and possible world domination? Who knows because Hadrian sure doesn't, and he's determined not to know, because surely if he just continues doing his own thing, it'll become clear sooner or later to all and sundry that he has no interest in fighting a bunch of schoolchildren over whatever they think he wants to fight for.

 It's just that he can't quite do that either, because not even three weeks after Nott and Zabini start joining him in the library every Wednesday and Saturday with a wary but accepting Hermione, something that translates to them moving their seats to sit with him in class and - when they can make it look natural, if still deliberate - walking with him in the hallways, the displeasure and animosity in Slytherin House reaches breaking point.

 It's not as if Hadrian hasn't already been the target of multiple hexes and curses from his own Housemates. He's a halfblood who hangs out with Gryffindors— it's to be expected. But so far, the spells have always been in the realm of reasonable, ones that might make him trip down the stairs or rip his bag or screw up his potion, and he's been able to block or avoid them all, so he'd figured it wasn't that big a deal. He'd put the fear of a Horntail in Malfoy early on because he has to live with the berk, and he doesn't much feel like returning after a long day of classes just to have to butt heads with him every single time. But he basically has no intersections with the rest of the House, so he just hasn't bothered paying attention to any of them.

 Then, perhaps rather suddenly, Nott and Zabini are there, not so much orbiting him as they do hover from afar. But they join his tutoring sessions, and they're serious about learning from him, listening earnestly and asking questions and even checking out the books he recommends they read if they have time. There are holes in even the most simple of their fundamental knowledge of Runes - Babbling, read a how-to book on teaching for Merlin's sake - so Hadrian has to more or less start from the ground up, as he had with Hermione, but both of them quickly prove themselves more than intelligent enough to keep up, and they're startling enthusiastic - by Slytherin standards - about everything he teaches them. Nott is more obvious - more ravenous - about it, but even Zabini - who likes to pretend he's only there for the novelty of it or something and therefore tends to play up a laidback sort of indifference - never fails to complete the optional exercises Hadrian writes up for them once a week.

 And outside of the tutoring sessions, it's like they've decided that being tutored by him means that he's now their new Malfoy or something. Not that Malfoy was their Malfoy before, if Hadrian had understood Nott correctly, but they'd at least acted like they were part of Malfoy's groupies. Now they've done a one-eighty, and it's not as if they follow him around all the time the way Crabbe and Goyle do with Malfoy, honestly if you don't count classroom and dorm room, they're not even around him half the time, especially Zabini, but when they are around, when they move their cauldrons next to his in Potions class despite working separately, when they go down to breakfast with him despite splitting off at the entrance, when they trail behind him back to the Slytherin Dungeon after a tutoring session, they're so damn conspicuous about it that they might as well be waving neon-bright signs above their heads.

 In contrast, they don't even sit next Malfoy during mealtimes anymore, much to the blond's increasing red-faced ire that vaguely resembles a Silenced teakettle on the brink of boiling over. But now they sit at the end of the Slytherin table, which Hadrian has gradually gathered that that's not a good thing, but he doesn't know how to fix it either, and neither Nott nor Zabini seems to mind.

 They also talk to him now, not often, not just in private, and not just about Runes, although that does still take up the majority of their conversation topics, if only because they don't know each other that well yet. But in their dorm or in class or in the library or in the halls, sometimes, Nott would say something completely normal, like whether or not he owns an owl or if he's noticed Snape's increasingly intent attention on him or if he's found the secret passageway connecting the Dungeons to the sixth floor yet because climbing six flights of moving stairs isn't what anyone would call a good time. Zabini on the other hand prefers sharing obscure gossip that even most of Slytherin isn't aware of, sordid little secrets like whose parent has a mistress (or three) on the side that will very likely cause an inheritance problem down the road, who killed a cousin over the summer due to jealousy but has done a decent enough job of covering it up as an accident because said cousin had been the heir apparent, and even who had to go to Pomfrey for an Abortion Charm just last week but will likely have to break her betrothal contract - and consequently have her magic bound, as per the terms of said contract - in the future anyway because there's no hiding the loss of her virginity from the olde family magicks no matter how frantically she searches for a way.

 To the former, Hadrian responds the way he would if Neville or Ron or Hermione were to ask him similar questions. To the latter, he says, "You have serious issues, Zabini."

 Nott never smiles, but his body language is a little less closed off and his eyes look a little less hunted with every random conversation they have. Zabini is almost always smiling, and in response to Hadrian's incredulity, he only laughs like it's the grandest joke he's ever heard.

 They grow on him, is the thing. One's probably abused at home, and the other is honestly half a psychopath already, and Hadrian shouldn't care but he's always had a bit of a soft spot for broken people, people who don't quite fit in no matter how well they fake it, people who remind him of himself. And the war he'd survived had only served to destroy what little compunctions he'd ever had about getting too close to dangerous things.

 So they grow on him, day by day, and half a month in, the other Slytherins apparently can't handle it anymore.

 Hadrian's just coming back from dinner. Nott and Zabini are with him, having joined him once he'd bid Neville, Ron, and Hermione goodnight. They're halfway across the common room when Hadrian catches movement in his peripheral, and he has half a second to decide what to do, to abort the reflex to go for his wand, to cancel the shield ward sparking at his fingertips, to pivot around on the spot and abruptly swing himself right into Nott's personal space, which means Nott immediately puts on the brakes, and - behind him - Zabini has to do the same.

 Hadrian senses more than feels the curse that grazes the back of his robes and splashes against the far wall between a pair of suspiciously empty armchairs in an area that's normally a popular hangout spot. There's no sound, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees the way it oozes a sickly viscous purple that puddles to the ground and eats straight through the carpet before finally evaporating into nothing.

 He doesn't turn his head, doesn't challenge anyone into a duel the way his hands are itching to do. Instead, even before the spell disappears, he's already asking, "Did you copy down the Potions assignment from today? I just remembered I forgot."

 In front of him, Nott's turned three shades whiter, and he's already pale-skinned to begin with, so he obviously recognizes the spell. Zabini clearly does as well if the way he's gone gargoyle-still is anything to go by.

 If they'd continued walking, that curse would've hit Nott right in the ribcage. His left ribcage.

 A beat of silence passes. Then Nott takes a breath and answers in a voice that doesn't waver but is even more inflectionless than usual. "Yes, I wrote it down. I can show you."

 "Cool, thanks, let's go."

 Nobody else speaks, nobody even moves, as Hadrian leads the way back to their dorm.

 Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle aren't back yet so they have the room to themselves. As soon as the door is shut, Nott almost slumps onto his bed, hands shaking. Zabini pulls out his chair to sit, a smile hooked at one corner of his mouth, but absolutely nothing about the rest of him says amusement.

 (Slytherins don't have friends, and Zabini doesn't seem to know how to have friends, but Nott's probably the closest to one that his disposition will ever allow.)

 Hadrian looks from Nott to Zabini and back, and then he asks, "Who was that boy? The one surrounded by that group by the fireplace."

 The one who'd fired the spell. Don't think just because a bunch of students were arranged in front of him that Hadrian had missed the way his arm had moved, the jab of a wand, the blossom of light at its tip before the curse had flown across the room. Did they think he was blind?

 Nott blinks up at him, features still pinched. It's Zabini who answers, soft as silk, "Malcolm Avery, seventh-year."

 Hadrian takes a moment to digest that, to press that face into his memory before filing it away for later. He focuses on his roommates again instead and presses on, "Has this sort of thing happened before?"

 Because even if they're spending time with him, Nott's an old pureblood name, isn't it? And Zabini is Zabini, and everybody's heard of his mother. Even if they're shunned a bit, jeered at a bit, even hexed a bit, any serious assaults should only be aimed at Hadrian, right?

 Well, apparently not. That curse earlier had been a much Darker cousin of the Bone-Vanishing Spell, a variation on the more public-friendly Bone-Breaking Curse. If Hadrian hadn't seen it coming, if he hadn't stopped Nott in time, that thing would've not only shattered the left half of Nott's ribcage but also stabbed the resulting fragments directly into the nearest organs before dissolving into the bloodstream as a lethal poison— in this case, it would've been the heart and a lung. Nott would've been dead in under a minute, drowning in his own blood in extreme pain, and it's a tossup if even Hadrian would've been able to save him.

 Zabini - unsurprisingly - shakes his head. For all that he doesn't have an old bloodline to rooted in Britain, he still has enough family clout to grant him a strong backing. And that's not counting his own means of protecting himself. Hadrian had actually gotten the feeling very early on, from the moment they'd had their first conversation, and he'd only been proven right as they'd gotten to know each other a little better— Zabini has all the best traits of a quintessential Slytherin. And thereby also all of the worst. Magic-wise, Hadrian can overpower him in a second, but that's why Zabini knows not to make an enemy of him, knows how to bend and stretch and profit while he's at it. He doesn't need anyone to protect him.

 Nott on the other hand doesn't reply right away, and when he does, it's an evasive, "Spells like that would be an instant expulsion from Hogwarts, especially coming from a Slytherin, and from a seventh-year, they'd go straight to Azkaban. There are portraits all over the school. I'm not stupid enough to wander into places where there aren't any."

 Hadrian aims a flat look at him. "That's not what I asked."

 Nott purses his lips and stares at his lap. Hadrian waits him out.

 "…They've tried cornering me," Nott finally admits, grudgingly, almost resentfully. "There's no avoiding a couple areas with no portraits. But they never used a curse this Dark before, and I've always been able to slip away."

 Hadrian swallows the first three things he wants to say, to shout, because at his core, he likes to think he has a long fuse, but when someone crosses his line in the sand, his temper has always been explosive and violent, which won't help here.

 Besides, hadn't he more or less told these two to handle the consequences of letting him tutor them on their own? Even if they weren't Slytherins and actually had the mind to reach out for help, they probably wouldn't have come to him after what he'd said, so he has no one to blame but himself and the fact that he'd underestimated just how deep some Slytherins' senseless hatred runs.

 So he breathes through his first instinct, his second, his third, and then he pushes off the desk he'd been leaning on in favour of pulling out parchment and ink and the appropriate books.

 "Alright, come here," He beckons, spreading everything out on his desk. "I'm gonna teach you a Fourfold Rebounder Ward so you can wear it on you from now on. The variation I'm thinking of has a chameleon element, so it'll be both strong enough to deflect a curse on the level of the one from earlier and also camouflage it when it's bounced back at whoever attacked you. It's based off of intent too, so it won't act up in a scuffle or a practice duel or something, the other person has to really want to harm you with deadly intent, so keep your guard up for other stuff, and honestly, this should just be for emergencies, you should still try to dodge it because it's not good to grow overly dependent on stuff like this. I'm confident the runes won't fail when I'm the one making it but your reflexes will get rusty if you get lazy. It's a bit- okay, a lot more difficult than anything you're learning right now, but I'll do most of the work, you just watch and provide the magic at the end, and once your foundation is a bit more stable and we can move ahead to more interesting things, I'll come back to this first so you'll be able to learn how to do this yourselves one day."

 A long silence follows. Hadrian looks up. Neither of his roommates has moved. "What's wrong?"

 Another few seconds tick by. It's Zabini who gets up first, an odd smile on his face, one that Hadrian's never seen before. But all he says is, "Nothing's wrong. I was just hoping if we waited a bit, Malfoy will get back in time to see what we're doing and finally keel over from high blood pressure."

 Hadrian snorts with laughter. "Get over here. If that really happened, we'd be the ones who'd have to waste time carrying him up to the Hospital Wing."

 Zabini's expression says that that wouldn't be his problem but he only smirks and saunters over to Hadrian's desk with his chair. When they both turn to look, Nott is already on his feet as well. He doesn't say anything, but he looks steadier, and he's watching Hadrian with a strange gleam in his eyes that makes them look almost feverish.

 They settle down around him, eager - by Slytherin standards - to learn in a way that reminds Hadrian exactly why he likes to teach.

 He gets to work, explaining each step even though he knows most of it is going over their heads. That's fine though; for now, these wards just need to protect them properly, and in the future, he'll teach them how to protect themselves.

 -0-

 Of course, things aren't over just like that, because Hadrian's temper is an explosive and violent beast, and the only things that's changed from when he was still a teenager is the fact that he's gotten a lot sneakier about it as an adult.

 They aren't friends. But Nott and Zabini are his roommates and his students and kids that he's starting to genuinely care about, and nobody gets to walk away scot-free after fucking with the people under Hadrian's care so long as he's still alive to do something about it.

 Malcolm Avery is seventeen anyway. That's an adult by any magical community's measure, which means Hadrian doesn't have to hold back.

 It takes a week. A week of slipping out after curfew and eavesdropping on conversations, of finding out what the seventh-year's next practical Potions class will be working on and scanning all of Avery's belongings to see what Dark spells he's been mucking about with, and finally of filching Avery's cauldron for an afternoon while he's in class and replacing it before he returns to his dorm.

 When it happens, Hadrian isn't even in school. Even if he were, it wouldn't matter because he'd made sure to time everything just right, and all the fourth-years - and most of the rest of the student body too - are already in the Great Hall waiting for lunch to be served. Seventh-year Potions is in the morning block, and Avery always goes overtime when there's a practical.

 Hadrian isn't even in school, sitting his Ancient Runes exams at the Ministry all day instead, but he certainly hears all about it when he gets back that evening.

 A few minutes before noon, a silver doe Patronus comes bounding up from the dungeons with an urgent summons for Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. Nobody hears what is said, but the three staff members rush off even as the food begins to appear, and nobody hears from them again until half an hour later when whispers start going around about Healers from St. Mungo's being called and one Malcolm Avery being carried out the front doors on a stretcher because his condition is too unstable to be transported through the Floo. The professors don't really tell them anything except that there was a Potions accident, but - as these things do because the rumour mill at Hogwarts is healthier than ever, and there'd still been a few other seventh-years in class with Avery at the time - everyone more or less knows what happened anyway by the time afternoon classes start. Potions is cancelled for the rest of the day, because no one else was injured but Snape was too busy furiously documenting what had happened after running multiple diagnostic spells over the remains of Avery's cauldron to teach. Also, he has to submit said documentation and a Pensieve memory to the Aurors investigating the accident, which doesn't exactly say great things about his mood, so nobody's unhappy about being able to give Potions a miss.

 Apparently, Avery had been using his cauldron to make other potions - banned potions - in his dorm room. His roommates had been willing enough to keep mum and even give him a hand, and the book he'd been learning from had been found in his trunk. Thankfully, he hadn't managed to make anything too terrible yet, and his failed attempts hadn't managed to kill anyone, but he also hadn't cleaned his cauldron properly, and so there'd been a mess of residue potion and Dark magic clinging to the metal. Coincidentally, it had ended up reacting quite badly to the potion that the seventh-years were to work on that day, and the end result was a magnificent explosion that Snape had barely managed to protect himself and the other students from in the nick of time. There'd been no helping Avery who'd been standing right next to the unholy concoction.

 In the aftermath, the explosion had caused bad enough burns to disfigure Avery, but time and Healers would fix most if not all of that. Far more serious had been the potion damage to his body— the liquid had seeped right through his skin and disintegrated the majority of his left ribcage, and then it had gone on to chew even further, straight into his heart and left lung, an insidious venom that had dissolved into his bloodstream and sent him into convulsions that had wrung scream after agonized scream out of him until Pomfrey had deemed it safe enough to knock him out, although even then, his body wouldn't stop seizing from the pain.

 He'd still been alive when he'd been rushed out of the castle. Word has it that he's still alive now in St. Mungo's, except the Healers have no idea how to even begin treating him. Mixing multiple failed attempts at Dark potions, most of which even Avery's own roommates couldn't list all the names of or in which order he'd made them, together with one N.E.W.T.-level potion but in an explosion that had caused the maximum amount of entropy in the magic imbued into it— Merlin himself wouldn't be able to fix it with just a wave of his wand.

 By dinnertime, everybody is talking about it, and the professors have given up trying to stop them.

 (In truth, the outcome probably wouldn't have been quite so serious if Hadrian hadn't added a spell to amplify the toxicity and volatility of the residue in the cauldron, as well as several looping single-use runes to hide the volcanic buildup and also bind the whole thing to Avery alone so that it wouldn't have hurt anyone else even if Snape hadn't reacted in time. Without Hadrian's interference, it would've still exploded sooner or later, but Snape might've seen the danger signs in time to evacuate everyone from the classroom, and even if he didn't, the effects of the potion on Avery probably wouldn't have been so terrible.

 But then, that wouldn't have been enough. After all, lessons like these should stick.

 Avery will live, but he sure won't enjoy it.)

 It's almost ten by the time Hadrian gets back to the Slytherin Dungeon. Snape drops him off at the entrance before sweeping off to his own office in a dramatic billow of irritably flapping robes. He'd been at the Ministry for half the day just to piece together what had happened for them, but as Hadrian had ensured, the Potions master had been cleared of any negligence in the matter. The potion had very obviously shown no signs of exploding - three other experts had verified - and students are expected to take care of their own cauldrons from third-year onwards without the professor having to do weekly checks. Snape had been released by dinnertime, but he'd apparently decided to simply eat in the Ministry cafeteria and return with his student and Babbling, so here they are.

 Except-

 Just before Snape makes to leave, he turns and pins Hadrian with a long appraising look, clinical and penetrating. Hadrian stares back serenely, and maybe the fact that his mind is a steel trap wrapped around a battlefield would be highly suspect to anyone looking in, but he also doesn't feel so much as a brush of Legilimency from Snape whatsoever. The professor really is just looking at him.

 It's a strange new world.

 In the end, Snape doesn't say anything before walking off, and Hadrian is left to blink after him before letting himself into the common room.

 Everything goes eerily silent the moment everyone realizes he's back. Even if he hadn't said anything, someone - let's be real, it's Malfoy - had spread the news of Hadrian taking his Ancient Runes exams early, so pretty much everyone had known where he'd gone today. It was never a secret though so Hadrian hadn't cared, except when he steps into the room, it's very obvious that everybody is focused on him, and just as obvious that nobody is willing to make eye-contact with him.

 The younger students should've already retired for the night. At least everybody still in the common room, studying or playing chess or chatting with each other like any standard evening, are fifth-years and up, so most of these students had probably known - or had been told after the fact - exactly what that curse would've done to Theo Nott that day, and exactly who had been the one to attack him.

 And everybody knows what had happened to Avery today. More specifically, they know that what had happened to him today had been an almost perfect mirror of what he'd wanted to do to Nott one week ago. Nobody here believes in coincidences, and there's only so many people who would've had the motivation to orchestrate the entire accident down to the smallest detail.

 Most of them have known Nott and Zabini for at least a few years. Perhaps they're not on speaking terms, but they'd still been Housemates for a while. Something like this isn't really Nott's style, and while it is Zabini's, neither of them has the ability.

 The only real unknown is Hadrian Evans, and if they still can't put the pieces together at this point, they might as well sell their brains.

 The area by the fireplace, normally always occupied by Avery's group at this time, is empty today. Avery's at St. Mungo's, his roommates are in overnight lockup at the Ministry, and any who aren't but were part of Avery's faction are probably hiding up in their rooms. Nobody else has taken their seats, not even the students who usually do when Avery hasn't claimed it for the day.

 Hadrian walks towards the doorway leading to the boys' dormitory, and no one stops him. It feels like the entire room is holding their breaths. Nobody speaks. Nobody even moves until Hadrian is out of earshot.

 The dorm is likewise very quiet when Hadrian enters. Malfoy's bed curtains are already drawn, as are Crabbe's and Goyle's, but Zabini's are open, and he's lazing against the headboard with a book in his hands while Nott is still at his desk doing homework.

 They both look up as soon as the door swings open. Zabini stays on his bed but Nott even stands up as Hadrian shuts the door behind him. His whole frame is tense with a restless sort of energy, and he's staring at Hadrian with shining eyes. They both are, although in different ways. Zabini looks equal parts ecstatic and hungry, while Nott just looks the kind of deeply confused and deeply grateful that makes Hadrian want to set fire to someone, preferably whoever stitched this very expression into Nott's range of emotions out of the pieces they'd torn from him.

 Nobody says anything right away. Hadrian squints at them as he makes his way to his own bed, feeling vaguely perturbed, because he hadn't truly expected them to not connect what happened to Avery back to him, but he hadn't thought they would be so fixated on it either. Maybe a roundabout tactful thank-you from Nott, an offer of a favour at most. But not… this, whatever this is.

 He laments the fact that these two aren't more stupid when it comes to this sort of thing. Ron would be oblivious. Hermione would be determinedly oblivious. Neville… would actually react a bit like Nott, Ginny would react a lot like Zabini, Luna wouldn't react at all but she'd be extra cuddly for a few days, and gods, Hadrian needs saner friends.

 Not that these two are friends of course.

 He manages to get through a shower, brush his teeth, and climb into a bed before Nott is suddenly at his side, eyes still shining with something Hadrian really doesn't want to put a name to. Thankfully, he doesn't burst into any heartfelt speeches that would probably embarrass everyone within hearing range. Not so thankfully, he honest-to-fucking-Merlin bows, all archaic and meaningful in every way Hadrian has never learned and so doesn't understand, but even he can sense the weight and deference behind every word as Nott murmurs, "All of mine is yours, until the end of days. I would be honoured if you would call me Theo."

 "Jesus fucking Christ," Hadrian mutters, because sometimes wizarding swears just don't have enough oomph to encompass the never-ending circus trainwreck that is his life. He scrubs a hand over his face, peeks at Nott - at Theo - who's still halfway bent over, and of course, it's just his luck that he has no idea how to respond in the proper pureblood way.

 He would've preferred the heartfelt speech.

 "I'm a halfblood, I don't know how to respond appropriately," He says bluntly because he doesn't know what else to do. But he also flicks a Silencing Ward at Malfoy's bed, then at Crabbe's and Goyle's as well because you can never be too careful, and then he leans over and hauls Theo upright and catches his gaze and holds it, "I'll call you Theo if you call me Hadrian. One day, you'll be strong enough to take care of your enemies on your own, and you won't need anyone else to do it for you if you don't want them to, but until then, if all of you is mine, then your enemies are too, so I'll deal with them if it turns out that they still haven't learned after today. That makes us allies from now on though, which means we're equals, and that means you never, ever bow to anyone again. Not me, and not anybody else either. Understand?"

 Theo stares again, wide-eyed and lost and so terribly young, and sometimes, Hadrian wonders what it says about just how messed up the world is when broken kids can be bought so easily.

 Finally, almost dazedly, Theo gives some semblance of a nod.

 "Hadrian," He says, and something about him straightens, grows steel, settles.

 "Hadrian," He repeats and dips his head, not a bow, but respectful all the same, and his eyes are still bright with that unnamed creature, but at least he looks at Hadrian head-on. "Thank you. Goodnight."

 Hadrian sighs and figures that this is about the best he's going to get tonight. Maybe it'll dial back to normal in a few days. "Goodnight, Theo."

 Theo smiles, tiny, crooked, a little awkward. It's the first one Hadrian has ever seen from him, and that at least he can't be upset about.

 They can finally go to sleep though. Theo returns to his own bed, Zabini is still watching them both from his bed like they're his new favourite show, and Hadrian resolutely pretends he doesn't see anything else as he takes down the Silencing Wards before drawing his curtains, rolling over, and promptly making a sincere attempt at smothering himself with a pillow.

 His life.

-0-0-0-

End Notes: Ok wow so this got hella long and I didn't really get to all the stuff anon wanted whoops. Theo just… wouldn't stop thinking lmao, and also this AU has the potential to get so big so I ended up cramming in worldbuilding wherever I could. So unfortunately all you get is sort of a starting snapshot of where this is going and how Hadrian is going to turn out and a shitload of Theo's character. I kind of wanted to do him and Blaise's POV but I could only fit Theo, and I feel like getting Blaise through Theo's POV actually added to his character just as much as a personal POV would've. Anyway, those two are basically blank slates in canon so ofc I would pick them to write lolol.

#headcanon meme: answered #HP series #c'est la vie #hadrian evans #theo nott #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #headcanon #slytherin hadrian au

[moonshynecybin]

bc you asked for it: what happens in the same age au when they get to the premier class?

YESSSSS OKAY. so the thing is. in this scenario they are MUCHHH more codependent right out of the gate. truly like you are the only bitch i can relate to and understand and ALSO the only person i can use as a yardstick for how actually good at this sport i am. and my entire life is about discovering how good at this sport i am. like they both think they’re weird fucked up soulmates created in a lab to complement and destroy each other. and they’ve held the other’s hair back after they puked when they were teenagers AND they’ve been inside each other. WEIRD shit sublimating into their egos and sense of selves.

which means ego really changes here! because if they went up against each other in their primes i’m not sure they would be as dominant as they were in real life… if vale didn’t win 9 titles without going to the gym that would change him as a person. and he’s reacting to MARC as his main rival here so he CANT win at those mind-game psychological warfare tactics he used as a little guy because marc is simply matching him in levels of crazy… idk it has interesting implications top to botttom for how these guys fundamentally view themselves and their lives!! i like to think about it!!!

but. basically. i think the main friction in their relationship, ESPECIALLY when they get to the premiere class, is the injury thing. even more so than normal. it’s not just i love you i’m scared that you aren’t taking care of yourself. it’s I DONT KNOW WHO I AM WITHOUT YOU please take care of yourself because i can’t race when i’m WORRIED about you (we see also how marc gets about alex) and racing is the MOST IMPORTANT THING!!! this goes both ways but vale is notably more anxious about it. like this scenario would add vale to the list of people who can make marc stop racing injured (and who are COMFORTABLE asking him to stop) BUT it also makes him a direct competitor to marc. and his oldest friend. and largest enemy. with no added hero worship BUT a big dose of first-love/situationship naïveté for them both. like knowing how they get on track together, how do they even begin to resolve thatttttt… contradictions on contradictions….. so marc doesn’t race injured as often, but maybe learns to protect himself independently even LESS (he doesn’t have to think about it, that’s what vale’s for !) and it reallyyyyy tears into their relationship because vale cannot be the entire scaffolding for marc’s ability to protect himself (he is also i think not protecting himself so well from injury. anything to beat marc, don’t know where or if sic fits here etc)

ANOTHER BIG TENSION. i also think that vale would NOT be one to want to settle down that young, whereas marc would wanna get soulbonded about it… so even while vale in this au has an easier time conceptualizing how important marc is to him, i think he imposes some distance in order to go out and like. process his parents divorcing/remarrying (SIDE NOTE 2: PIC OF MARC WITH BABY LUCA. THANK YOU.), sow his wild oats, hit up the club and be a little slutty etc (SIDE NOTE 3: UCCIO AND MARC BEEF WOULD GO FUCKING CRAZYYYY HERE) and marc is down to tag along for a lot of that stuff but at the same time. they’re teens/young men living in different countries so it’s not like they’ve ever talked about what they are or asked to be exclusive… and it’s not gonna feel great when vale disappears with a girl or marc has some fling with someone back home! and it’s not like they can come out so i actually think the on again off again vibes get TURBOCHARGED. the jealousy and angst is ratchet up to ten… maybe they don’t get sepang level divorced bc ego is different and they’ve known each other longer, but the little stuff digs more… they break up a lot they make up a lot…. they eventually get married after marc’s arm injury i think… puts some stuff into perspective…

#vale would freakkkk #okay this still didn’t really get into the premiere class drama SORRY i had a lot of thought… #motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez #same age au

[teecupangel]

Im curious about what is cannon and fannon in the AC fandom. Ive read many different origins for the scar Desmond has, but most people go with Bill being the one to give it to him. Is this because its cannon from a little known source(similiar to the fact that Altaïr can swim, as seen in the 3ds games, but most people make him unable to swim despite the fact) or is it widely accepted fannon? What about Masyaf castle? Ive read some fics about it being an Abstergo facility with the Templars having opened the Library, while others write it is just been left to time. And ofc cant forget Eagle Vision. Is it a unique ability to Altaïr only? Did his father have it too? Did every novice have to master it before becoming an assassin?

There could be others, but these are the facts that im mostly curious about. Thank you for answering. ^^

So I’m gonna break this into sections so I don’t have to think about scene transition or whatever rambling equivalent that has.

Altaïr Can Swim

We all accept that he can’t swim because that’s funny. However, if we take into consideration how Altaïr can swim as seen in his ‘sequel’, this is pretty much the complete opposite of “Altaïr has never been hit” status that he has in the fandom. They both causes desyncing so if we believe in “Altaïr has never been hit” then it’s not that Altaïr can’t swim, it’s that “Altaïr never slipped or fell into the waters” which actually points more to Altaïr being a badass. But we decided that Altaïr not being able to swim is a much funnier idea and went to town with it XD

Bill Being The Reason Desmond Has His Scar

Okay, so ngl, I also liked to write that Bill is the reason Desmond has a scar, either directly or indirectly (I mostly go for indirectly with another kid being the reason why he has a scar but Bill was there ‘supervising’), mostly because I like the plot point that getting the scar is the thing that finally snaps Desmond and got him to leave the Farm ‘randomly’.

Anyway, the canon/fanon blur a lot in this one as there are enough people that believe Bill made the scar as seen by this post.

My thoughts on that is pretty much summarized in the tags I left in that one:

#wait it's official? #or did we as a fandom just collectively saw how bill treated desmond and went #ah yes he's why desmond has that scar #seriously i hc it and it makes sense narratively for bill to be the reason why desmond has a scar #whether from training or by accident #but i don't remember it being even implied in any games #especially in ac rev where it could have easily been added in

To add to that, I’m talking about AC Revelations specifically because of Desmond’s rant in an early scene where he finally shouts at Bill for being a bad father. That was the perfect time to just drop that bombshell of Bill being the reason why Desmond has his scar but we didn’t get that. That’s the main reason why I don’t think it’s canon that Bill is the reason why Desmond got his scar but there’s 3 more scenes in AC Revelations where he could have talked about it, all of them from Desmond’s memories scenes.

I also talked about how I couldn’t find any evidence of Bill being the reason that Desmond got his scar in this post.

But the summary is I tried looking for any information about it in the books, pamphlet, manuals and references I had (I say ‘had’ because I had to leave them back in my old home after I moved due to space constraints TTATT), only focusing on any mentions of Desmond and Bill

Assassin's Creed Limited Edition Art Book (p40-41)

Assassin's Creed The Complete Visual History (p290 -292) - p291 has the line "... Desmond's father, William, adds an element of family drama..." calling it family drama sounds like an understatement considering how Bill and Desmond act around each other

Assassin's Creed The Essential Guide (p14, 66, 161, 218-219, 236, 238, 240) - this book is so weird. P218 says that Bill and Gavin shared the mentor role after the Great Purge, p237 says that only Bill took the mentor role (but didn't call himself the mentor) after the Great Purge

Assassin's Creed Atlas (p159, 165)

Assassin's Creed Encyclopedia (White Version) (p18, 158-183)

Assassin's Creed Encyclopedia (White Version - JP ver) (p18, 158-183)

Assassin's Creed Encyclopedia (Black Version - JP ver) (p17, 113-127) - The Black Version is an older version, only going as far as AC Revelations + The Fall comics, The White Version has up to 3 + Liberation

No mentions at all about Desmond's relationship with Bill in the following:

That short game manual that's inside the game disc for AC1-AC3 (JP ver)

Assassin's Creed Reference Guide (JP)

Assassin's Creed Perfect Guide (JP)

Assassin's Creed 2 Reference Guide (JP)

Assassin's Creed Archive Book (JP)

In conclusion:

The most I got can be summarized from Assassin's Creed Encyclopedia, p182

"... driven, intelligent but emotionally distant father of Desmond Miles..." " ... technically minded man, fully devoted to the Assassins and their cause, whose passion for politics outweighs his responsibility to his family. While William's wife has always been able to deal with this emotional distance, young Desmond could not. Eventually he grew to feel that his father was more of a drill sergeant than a parent and fled the compound, despite his parents' repeated warnings to never leave."

If Bill did directly or indirectly cause Desmond's scar, I could not find it in the official books I have or even on Desmond's or Bill's AC Wiki page.

Unless someone can point out where it officially states that Bill caused Desmond's scar, I believe the whole "Bill is the reason for Desmond's scar" is AC fandom's own Mandela Effect. Most probably something that started as a headcanon (and for a very good reason) and is commonly used by fanfic writers (including me) which has evolved as a Word of Dante that we, as a collective, have mistaken as a Word of God.

Masyaf’s Current Situation

There’s no official note of the current situation of Masyaf in the modern days and I think Ubisoft would probably not do anything about it narrative-wise… I’d honestly be surprised if they did anything about it if they make an AC1 Remake. Now, it’s a bit nebulous if the Templars did manage to get the library but it should be noted that the last time we see Altaïr’s Apple, Ezio let it stay in the library and the ACR novel gave us:

“The bookshop was used as an outpost for the Assassins, and Ezio stored the Masyaf Keys in the chamber where he had found the first key, underneath the bookshop.”

If the Templars got into the bookshop then they’ll find all the keys and would have everything they needed to get into the library.

However…

The Apple would find itself in the hands of Queen Elizabeth I and Mahatma Gandhi before falling into Templar hands.

As far as I can see, Queen Elizabeth I isn’t a Templar so it’s highly possible that the British Empire did their usual ‘finders keepers’ thing and this wasn’t a nefarious Templar plan. So either Ezio got the Apple out of Masyaf and hid it somewhere else that would later be found by someone (maybe John Dee?) or Ezio… just left it in Masyaf?

I wanna give Ezio the benefit of the doubts and believe that he knew leaving it in Masyaf would be such a bad idea so the Apple was most probably transferred somewhere else.

Which means that Masyaf was completely abandoned by the end of Ezio’s era which Ezio would have believed be something that Altaïr wanted to happen.

I realized now I’m rambling further and further away from the actual topic for this section.

In conclusion: we have no idea if Masyaf is abandoned or occupied by the Templars in modern day. I will also add if it’s occupied by Templars, it might be a secret ‘base’ or it’s affiliated with a non-Abstergo Entertainment section of Abstergo because, as far as I can see, Abstergo Entertainment’s headquarters are based on existing Ubisoft headquarters (ex: Black Flag’s Abstergo Entertainment is in Montreal = Ubisoft Montreal)

Personally, I think that Abstergo would take over Masyaf castle either officially or unofficially as a way to show the Brotherhood how they hold one of the most important locations in their history. That’s the kind of power play the current Inner Sanctum would do.

(It would be funny in a ‘that’s fucked up’ kind of way if Masyaf is an Abstergo secret facility that does experimental work with captured Assassins as guinea pigs which they have done in the Philadelphia facility (Fall comics) and Madrid (AC Movie))

Eagle Vision

It was actually never explicitly stated who had Eagle Vision and who hadn’t but it’s noted that humans, in general, have the capability to unlock Eagle Vision although there are humans who has an easier time unlocking it.

AC1 noted that the Levantine Assassins knew about Altaïr’s Eagle Vision but there’s no evidence to suggest that they have it as well. Most of the time, they just tell Altaïr to use his vision without saying if they have it as well or not.

(it’s just personal preference to write that 12th century Assassins, both in Masyaf and Alamut, would have some form of Eagle Vision to show how much the Brotherhood had ‘fallen’ in the modern day. Canon actually points that only a small number of people can access Eagle Vision)

#ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #teecup analyze more than necessary #headcanon: assassin’s creed #william miles

[tiredspacedragon]

Thing about me is that I'm a huge softie. I want everybody to get happy endings and be alright in the end. And that's great for fluffy headcanons. But when I actually buckle down and think about my ideas for how things would go post-canon, it's a little rough. Because the point of Marendar is to kill Toa, and to have it show up and be defeated or change sides or what have you before doing any Toa-killing would just be a cop-out (especially after 10+ years of irl buildup). So that means some Toa gotta die. But who?

On that note, here's a potentially gruesome poll. Pick whichever option you think should happen most, and add anyone else you think should bite it in the tags.

Would have added options for surviving, non-zombified Toa from the Red Star, and Nobody <3, but alas, ran out of room. Also, Krakua isn't here because he has to survive to do the whole "lone guardian of an island fortress" thing and send Vakama that Kratana-induced vision he got back in Time Trap. So his survival is guaranteed. Everyone else, not so much.

Some anti-propaganda (reasons they all should die *evil laugh*) below the cut:

Toa Nuva: Would there be a bigger gutpunch than this? The flagship characters, the six heroes with one destiny! But that destiny is complete now, they don't need to be kept alive anymore. Imagine how much it would shake things up to take them off the board, how ruined the survivors would be if only a few of them went down. Wouldn't it just be so juicy?

Toa Mahri: They're one down already, so it's not like you'd be breaking up a complete set. Besides, we all know they're built for tragedy at this point. Jaller and Hahli could fall together. Hewkii could go down in front of Macku's eyes. Nuparu could sacrifice himself using one last invention to stop Marendar, perhaps making up for the perceived sins of the Vahki and Boxor. Kongu could accept death as it takes him, at least now he might see Matoro again.

Toa Hagah: These six are prime candidates, aren't they? Important enough for it to hurt, for us to care, but not so important that they aren't expendable. Never truly frontrunners. Named characters it's safe to kill. What more could you ask for? I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out Greg had planned to kill them so he'd never have to describe Gaaki, Bomonga, Pouks, and Kualus' appearances. Plus, Norik dying just after getting to see Varian again? Or even just before? Doesn't it hurt so good?

Takanuva: He only needs to live long enough to end the civil war between the Great Beings, but after that, if Marendar is still in play, he's fair game. What do you say? It would torture him more to see his friends fall while he lived on, but there is something poetic to "Takanuva, the first and greatest Toa of Light, whose life burned brightly, but quickly."

Yesterday Questers: These three are like the Toa Hagah, but even safer. Named characters, important enough for their deaths to matter, but brand new, without much audience investment. Besides, they're asking for it, aren't they? Ancient Orde, the chip on his shoulder as old as he is, could finally know peace in oblivion. Perhaps Zaria's death would finally clear his guilty conscience. And Chiara... Does anyone actually like Chiara? Would anyone miss her? Are these questions she asks herself? And wouldn't it hurt to hear her ask them in her final moments?

Varian: Talk about tragedy. Thousands of years, locked in a tube, dead to the world. Unaware time is even passing. And when she finally awakes, it's only to die. A waste of her character, perhaps, but if you don't mind fridging, it would piss off Norik somethin' fierce.

Tuyet: Doesn't she deserve it? And you know, Marendar does track Toa Power, and there's no greater source of that than Tuyet and the Nui Stone. It would be gunning for her. And it would be so deliciously ironic. All that power, all the effort she put in to get it, and it would be utterly useless to save her in the end. Her dreams of empire ground to dust in seconds, right before her eyes, as Toa Tuyet dies one last time.

Helryx: Think of the poetry. Marendar, the Toa's bane. What more worthy opponent could there be for the first Toa's last stand? It practically writes itself. Helryx has done her duty. The will of Mata Nui has been carried out. This is her perfect chance to go down fighting on her own terms, not as the leader of the Order, but as a Toa once more.

Lesovikk: This guy is Orde and Zaria but worse. He wants death so bad. And what else is there left for him to do? Karzahni is dead. His Matoran are found. What, will he become a Turaga and gift his power to the next generation of Toa? Will he wander the woods and care for the animals? Will he find joy and beauty in living? Lame. He misses his team so bad? Let him join them.

20-odd nameless mooks: By far the safest option. A Toa-killer would be pretty pointless if it never killed any Toa, but nobody said it had to be anyone we cared about, right? This is the best of both worlds. A pile of bodies to make Marendar a credible threat, but nothing and no one of consequence lost. A perfect solution, right? Just uh. Hope you don't have any OCs in here.

Mutants: The Dark Hunters are scattered, vulnerable. If these lost souls haven't found the greater group yet, they'd be easy to pick off. Good options too, right? Actual characters, so their deaths have some weight, but not major ones, so they won't be missed. Guardian was killed off in Reign of Shadows for those exact reasons. Why not have Savage, Spinner, and Prototype carry on the tradition, and tie off some loose ends in the process?

Shadow Takanuva: Sure, it might suck for their home universes to lose their Takanuva like this, but hey. If you have a whole army just sitting around, might as well put them to use, right? The fight could be interesting to watch too. Shadow might be the only element Marendar has no countermeasures for, since Toa of Shadow were never meant to exist. Maybe this is how it's finally beaten, after taking several alternate Takanuva down with it, of course. Besides, Melding Teridax flattened several of them already, so it's not like they were all making it home to begin with.

#bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #marendar #toa #this was originally a much longer and more serious thinkpiece #about the pros and cons of killing off each of them #but indulging the evil writer in me like this was much more fun #choosing violence today #yay :) #plus a poll opens up more opportunities for discussion

[circledotdestroy]

Retrospective - Chapter 2: The Insult of Injury

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x F! Pro-Hero! Reader (slow burn)

Main Summary: After 12 years, you, Pro-Hero Strife, has to return to Japan. Your objective: discreetly track down and capture Akari Kaneko, a.k.a. Pro-Hero Aegis— your old classmate who attacked you during her visit in America. In the aftermath of All Might losing his power, however, using UA resources has its complications. The most unexpected complication being Aizawa, someone you never expected to see again. Why does your past have to come back to haunt you now? Masterlist First chapter Next Chapter Word Count: 5585

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to post. While I was gone I got my first big girl job and my beta reader has been having trouble with her computer, so I had to obsess over the prose by myself. In the end, i had to split my planned second chapter in two because it was almost 10k, so that's fun. Also, I uploaded this fic to Ao3 and I added the tag "Autistic Shouta Aizawa" and I'm the first one to tag that in an X Reader Fic??? I thought it was a popular headcanon lol Anyway, you've waited long enough. I hope you enjoy!

Head hung over porcelain, gloved hands gripped onto the sink. A giant hammer banged against your skull from the inside leaving sparks in its wake. Neurons like shooting stars lived behind your eyes. “Sparks…” You gulped back nausea. 

Murky puddles of colors blurred together. Light blue stalls behind you, slightly opened, but empty. A massive void leered through the mirror with slivers of red. Hunched, panting over the counter. Burning wounds spreading out, conquering the rest of your cold skin. Not so different from the last time you needed a healing quirk. Cold, clammy, and disgustingly pitiful in one of the dark backrooms of your agency–because doing paperwork was better than being by your lonesome with nothing. The main difference this time around was the mortification that came with breaking down in a high school bathroom.  

You were going to smack Akari for what she put you through.

The thought stabilized your shaky breath. You straightened your body, your hands still grasping the counter. The pressure released from the stab wound. It steadied you and you were grateful.

The last thing you needed to add on this little business trip was a reunion with Recovery Girl. She had first-hand encounters of your nonsense. Dealing with the aftermath of you being a menace to society— or “younger” if someone wanted to be polite—more times then you can count. You went to her office a lot–sometimes for yourself. Sometimes. It didn’t matter if you started more “advanced” in your class, you weren’t immune to scraps, bruises, or the occasional slip up during training. Other times, it was for other classmates. Some you sent her way after battle trials, but other times you popped in to take supplies then ran out.

One time you asked when she was going to retire, she said whatever the Japanese equivalent was for “until I croak”. That was after she threatened you with her cane, but you laughed it off like the cocky child you were. You thought even if she could land a hit, it wouldn’t hurt that bad. After all this time, it’d be disappointing to tell her you got in a fight and lost at your big age. Maybe she’ll try hitting you with her cane again, you thought. She’d have an easier time now.

But no. Dealing with the effects of one healing quirk was enough. The risks of getting her involved drowsiness at best, or possible death before the investigation gets shot down at worst. Investigation aside, it’s becoming apparent your healing process isn’t where it’s supposed to be. The itches, the burning… no one is in this bathroom with you, but you’re burning beneath cold skin. Someone who sees you on the street can say: “It’s only been two days! Walking around, catching a flight, that’s a MIRACLE for only two days!” 

However, that’s the problem. It’s already been two days. With the healing quirk, you’re supposed to be at least 75%, but you’re not pushing fifty. 

Removing your hands from the sink, you brought them to your sides. It was hard to know where one pain starts and where the other ends. Everything burns and your body is compelling you to turn around and throw up nothing.  You flexed shaking fingers into fists. Your stomach was turning inward. It’s been a while since you ate. Perhaps you should’ve brought something on your way here. Even if it was stopping at a konbini and picking up one of those stupid-ass nutrition cookies Aizawa used to eat for lunch every day of the week. You swallowed, shaking your head. Food can wait. You can wait three hours. If you eat, you’re going to stay nauseous and dizzy anyway… unless you do something about it.

With a shaking breath, you glanced over your shoulder then at the door. There was no charge down your spine, so no people were close by either. You flexed your hands again, eyes closed, counting your fingers rhythmically. The sparks died down. The pain became more discernible. Abdomen still fresh and oven-hot. Knuckles chaffed, raw, and bruised. Your legs: thighs sore from jumping during the mission, your left knee ached, and the top side of your right foot was especially tender. Your shoulders, your back, behind your head. 

You kept the rhythm until your lungs demanded release. When you exhaled, the pain dwindled. Not completely. Warmth still lied below your skin, at a near simmer. When you opened your eyes though, the blacks and reds weren’t blurred together. They were a clear, albeit crooked mess. You fixed the red arm guards first. When that was done, you had enough energy to fix the rest of your uniform. 

Daring to move around, you inspected your fixed outfit further. When it passed inspection, you grabbed your briefcase below the paper towel dispenser to your right. Hitching your breath, you reached for the black handle. Your right leg carried all the weight to avoid setting off a potential mine-field of injury. At first contact, you swung the case on top of the sink then opened it. There were many compartments at the top, one housed a phone the boss gave you, since your old one was collateral damage. There were few numbers inside the cell. Only the ones you thought were most important to include. One of them was for the agency medic, which you cleverly titled as “Medic” to make sure you don’t call more than necessary. 

This development with his quirk, unfortunately, was necessary. Rocks filled your stomach. Your mouth feels like you ate gravel. You can hear his reaction to telling him his ‘all powerful quirk’ wasn’t helping like a future sense. He’d make the concussion he diagnosed you with worse if you called.

Wanting to grip the phone harder, you clenched your teeth. This whole thing was stupid. You could’ve kept your guard up. You could’ve stood up, knife be damned, and run after Akari. Stopped her. Asked her what the hell she was talking about— All these choices you could’ve made–all those years of training, and you still got a concussion. Seven minutes passed when you finished typing your little update. It was better to give him a heads up now. It helps against accusations of Akari annihilating your brain cells at the fight.

The next person you contacted was Athena, your Support Expert. It hasn’t been long, but you needed an update on something. Even if it was just your uniform and equipment. 

The message itself was quick. Though, you couldn’t help following up by asking if she knew anything about one of the crime scenes. You then thanked her, again. Heaven knows you keep her busy when you need new equipment. During the past two years alone, you’ve asked a lot from her. Whether you needed a new arm guard, gauntlet, or a whole new uniform, she came through every time. It’s hard to get an SE who specializes specifically in power-based quirks. From what you’ve experienced, and heard from other heroes, most SEs don’t appreciate their designs getting decimated. Their creations are children in their eyes. Athena’s creations aren’t as precious in her eyes, by comparison. She has a spreadsheet dedicated to how long until the creations get busted. Keeping up with these records is her research. It changed constantly, telling her what works and when she needs to switch things up. 

You should bring her something when all this is over, you thought. She deserved something nice. Something that says “I’m sorry for wrecking all the support items you made me during my missions, you’re the best SE ever!”

The phone went back inside of its compartment, next to the pouch where five hologram disks were held. A surge of panic came through you. Thinking of the horrific scenario of traveling all this way and forgetting essential items for your visit today. You tore open the pouch. Heart in your ears and heat crawling out your back. Two disks were labeled, three were not. “CS1” and “CS2” were in the pouch. Good. You glanced at the other objects in the case, double checking everything was there before you met up with the principal. Folders, notebooks, paperwork, until relief washed over you in a cool wave. Closing the briefcase, running your hand across the leather. Slowing down to trace the broken heart emblem, similar to the one on your breastplate.

Your power won’t get rid of the hammers in your skull, or the itch around stitch wire, but the thick material will prevent you from scratching. Plus, no one else would know about the other bumps and bruises beneath. 

You got this.

Leaving the bathroom, you pulled out Hizashi’s instructions one more time. They were less blurry and a bit easier to understand. You may actually have a chance to get out of the maze disguised as your alma mater. Ironically enough, before you could turn the corner, a white rat-bear-dog shorter than a yard-stick— wearing a black vest, blocky, yellow shoes, and had a gangster scar across his eye—came around. “There you are! It really has been a long time,” he greeted, like you’ve seen him before. He didn’t give you time to respond to him, he just explained how he waited at the meeting spot until it occurred to him how long it’s been since you were a student. The principal also made many changes since the time you graduated, which he insisted on showing you. This welcoming gesture forced you to tail him around the floor, instead of simply going to the meeting spot. You didn’t like the idea of walking around, not with that flare up earlier. You were still abnormally sore. But he can’t know that. You squared your shoulders, nodded your head, and quietly marched on.

There weren’t many rooms to make note of. Most of them were regular classrooms. You already saw where the current classroom for 1-A was before you ran into Aizawa. Apparently your old classroom is being used for one of the first year general education courses. The principal asked if you’d like to look inside. You declined the offer politely. At the end of the day, it was just a room. Another room with desks, windows, and a chalkboard in the front. What more did you need to see? You didn’t explain that last part, obviously, and the principal went on talking about other changes around the school.

At one point, he interrupted himself, stopping in front of one of the other doors. This time he didn’t ask you before opening it. “And here is my office.” The principal revealed a room with a giant window behind a desk. The orange light from the rising sun shone through the window casting deep shadows on the office furniture. If you stepped closer, you’d see everything outside the window. The brightness made you queasy. You opted to focus on the gray couch instead. “It looks a little different compared to the last conversation we had here,” he commented.

‘Last conversation,’ you wondered. Then it hit you.

This principal wasn’t new.

 Your principal never left UA. How you forgot your principal having a gangster-scar, you weren’t sure. There was no one like him. Absolutely no one that you’ve met. 

Muffled words and a shadow in front of a stark blue window came to mind. Paws holding stacks of paper, hitting them against the desk to straighten them out. Were you supposed to add on to what he said? Were you supposed to apologize? He didn’t look unhappy.

But you could be wrong. Would it be a surprise if this was an act? Taking you on this walk so you’d waste your time telling him everything? You looked to the right and left side of the hallway. If the resources weren’t valuable then you’d walk yourself out first. 

The principal didn’t follow up his statement with anything about the past or the future. He closed the door to his voice and rambled his way to nothing. He probably wanted to get a reaction out of you, but you were too confused to give him one. 

After a while, the stitches got tighter. And tighter. And your legs were becoming sore. Of course, you clenched your jaw to keep quiet. If he caught on, he’ll send you to Recovery Girl then bye-bye. She hits you with her cane and Nezu could press a button to eject you from the building.

Honestly, where was Hizashi? You knew he was supposed to be busy with work last night, but he said he’d be here for the meeting. It was supposed to start soon and you don’t want to be in a room alone with a passive-aggressive rat-bear-principal. Maybe he was telling Nemuri you were in town. 

Or maybe he would try to find Shouta and they could all be talking right now! Aizawa would tell him about you leaving him in the hallway, saying you were rude, demanding to know what’s going on. Aizawa was pushy enough. Hizashi would tell him about how you called him, hurt and asking for help. Despite Hizashi’s best intentions, Aizawa could use this information to raise doubt against you in the meeting. Get rid of you before you become a problem, his problem. 

You needed to find Hizashi before that could happen.

As luck would have it, the tour was coming to an end. The last stop led to a blond man leaning against a door down the hall with his arms crossed. A blond man with a punk rock style and a speaker around his neck. A blond that bounced his knee impatiently because he couldn’t bear standing still. 

Hizashi!

His head snapped in your direction. He, like a ray of sunshine, grinned ear to ear. “And look here, folks!” Hizashi rushed toward you, “coming out of the cage, ready for her GRAND COMEBACK–” you gripped your briefcase tighter, your eyes wide and almost bouncing, expecting impact. Hizashi pivoted around you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s the Queen of Terror, Pro-Hero STRIFE!”

It’s been over five years since you’ve seen him in person, longer since he’s called you by your hero name. You beamed, he was here. In the same room, not across the world. You thought of hugging him, but stopped when you remembered your old principal was still here.

Hizashi moved closer, leaning into your face without such reservations. The amber reflection of your uniform was in his sunglasses. His hand dragged across your shoulder where the raised mending peaked. He looked toward the principal with his hand on the side of his mouth, like he was trying to tell you a secret. “I was waiting forever,” he fake-scolded, loud enough for the third party to hear.

Glancing at the principal, you saw he was watching the two of you. He had a smile on his face, but his eyes were blank. You stepped out of Hizashi’s grasp, standing properly. “I had trouble with the directions.”

“What? Getting rusty after being away for so long?” Heat rose to your ears. Of course you were going to be rusty. Did he really have to tease you about it now? “She really knows how to keep her fans at the edge of their seat,” he said to the principal casually, like he wasn’t Hizashi’s boss.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the principal responded, making you aware of the side eye you were giving to your old friend. “I was giving Strife a tour of this floor. After all, I’m proud of the changes I made to UA since your graduating class. I couldn’t resist showing off to one of my former students. Strife has certainly grown from that child I remember.”

Hizashi agreed with your old principle with a joke. “I hope that’s a good thing.” But you know there’s no good way to interpret the statement. Not with what he said when he showed you his office. Who brings up a time where they had to talk with you in a GOOD way? It’s like when your parents brought up how one of your dad’s coworkers caught you sneaking a cookie from the agency's break room when you were supposed to stick to a meal plan. Like, “oh, we sure hope you have better impulse control compared to when you were eight, even if you do, we’re going to reference this story over and over again so you never forget your moral failure!” He’s wearing yellow sneakers with formal wear, why is he passive-aggressive!

The conversation didn’t go further, thankfully. “There is time before the meeting, I’m going to set up. Feel free to catch up here in the meantime,” said the principal. You both thanked him as he went into the room. The nausea came back at the sight of the wooden swirls closing, your heart was starting to pound. After all, maybe he was planning to air it out with an audience, you couldn’t know for sure with his emotionless eyes.

“Did you really not have nicer clothes,” Hizashi asked, breaking you out of your trance. He was loud enough for the whole building to hear.

Your nose scrunched. “The damage wasn’t THAT bad…”

Hizashi shook his head. “I’m not talking about the damage. Last time I saw you, there was more…” Hizashi held his hand out, waving it toward your body. He went through a jumble of words before he decided on one. “Color.”

The last time he saw you in person, you were twenty-four and in-between agencies again. He was celebrating the first anniversary of his show being picked up for a radio channel. After celebrating the anniversary, he took a short vacation out of the country. It was the first time he was allowed since his career started. When Hizashi finally arrived in the States, you wore a uniform. It had less hard armor and was more red. Red breast plate with your black broken-heart emblem, which resembled that old Pac-Man arcade game. Gauntlets with red finger and knuckle pieces and armguards to contrast the black base of the gloves. Some other details like the center of your knee and elbow pads, the tips of your boots, your utility belt, and other lines and trims followed,

Vibrant color bounced off the void background. In comparison, your current outfit was– 

“You look like a common mall goth.” You tilt your head at him. Before you can say anything about calling you “common”, he continued. “Actually it’s worse!” Hizashi stepped closer to put his hands on your shoulders, pressing into the raised mark on the left. He leaned closer to your ear–was he always this touchy? He whispered, “you look emo.”

You punished him back, somewhat gently. “Hizashi, what the hell,” you said in English. Why was he making you worried over nothing! And calling you emo…

He laughed, wagging his finger at you like you were some brat. “Nuh uh uh. It’s Mic. We’re professionals and we’re working.”

“What do you mean ‘professionals’? What was professional about that!”

“I’m a radio host too, I have to play it to the crowd!”

You scanned the halls. “Where!” No one was here! A thud echoed across the empty hallway. In your confusion, you accidentally threw your briefcase across the hall. You stupidly remember the rule ‘no yelling in the hall!’ rule as black leather slid across the purple floor. Oops… You sigh as the briefcase spins to a stop.

Mic continued laughing. You grumbled, giving him your back as you approached the briefcase. To think, you considered hugging him earlier. The man walked behind you. “Don’t be so stiff!” You stared at the briefcase, almost rolling your eyes, he had no idea. You pondered how you were going to pick it up. If you did it the same way as you did in the bathroom, it would look suspicious. And dorky. 

His eyes were on you, you could feel it. If you waited too long then Mic would volunteer to get it for you. That would make him ask questions though. “Right,” you broke the silence before he could. You squatted with bated breath to pick up the briefcase. Your knee almost popped and you wanted to tear into the wound, but you weren’t going to tell Mic that. Not now, at least. 

Somewhere more private. AFTER you were sure he wouldn’t talk to Aizawa about anything. But first, you’d need to say you met him earlier and it didn’t go well. You can save Mic the drama, not going into specifics. Other than that, what’s one more thing to the pile? He’s in the dark about Akari, for now. He didn’t need to know Akari was the reason why you called him from your medic’s phone the other day, right this minute. You’ll have to go over everything in the meeting anyway, so why waste time?

“I would’ve gotten that,” said Mic.

“But you didn’t.” You shot back, harsher than you meant to. “It’s fine. I forgive you,” you stated with a pouty lip. You hoped the joke would mitigate the unintended force of your words. Mic probably didn’t notice, or he thought it was simply the set up to the punchline. “What have you been up to?”

Mic gave you an elaborate update on the past few weeks. His summer was busy since the Sports Festival. As usual, he was booked out when it came to the radio host and DJ gigs during the beginning of summer break. He told you all positive things. Dancing around All Might’s retirement as Number 1 Hero. You imagined he’d describe it as a certified downer if you asked. “...and our first years are about to go for their license!” Mic posed his hands in the rock and roll gesture.

“Wow, already? We had to wait until second year.”

“Because of all the villain attacks. It was decided it’d be better for the students to protect themselves without waiting for a hero’s permission.” There were no bells or whistles attached to the explanation. His hand gestures were minimal as well. While the idea of first years becoming skilled enough to get their license at a young age was impressive, there was no argument the circumstances weren’t ideal. First years shouldn’t have to deal with villains yet, but they have multiple times. Even in America, the youngest an applicant had to be was 17 to get their license. One of the perks of going to UA was being able to expedite the process and get your license when you were 16. You couldn’t imagine letting 15 year olds take the test in America. ”If you’ve watched the Sports Festival, then you know they’ll CRUSH it!” He punctuated the statement with his signature “YEAH!”, putting his hands in the air for extra dazzle. 

A beat passed and he broke his pose, asking if you watched the Sports Festival. The question wasn’t as pumped compared to his previous statement. Guilt struck you. Another month’s gone by and you still haven’t watched your friends on International Television. “It’s okay if you didn’t!” He responded, obviously concerned.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I should’ve watched it by now. Work’s been crazy for months. I had to cancel TV because it was wasting money.”

Mic shrugged, with a relaxed expression on his face. “Don’t worry about it! I’m sure I can give you the highlight reel while you're in town. But seriously, you had to cancel TV? You need to give it a rest!” 

“No, you have four jobs. I have no excuse–”

“Details!” Mic brushed off your response with his hand. “Y’know…” Mic’s hand went to his face to rub his chin. “You could help out with the first years with the exam. If you have time for it, it could be another paycheck and you can hang out with me,” he finished like you were a kid motivated by cookies.

You raised your eyebrow and shifted your weight to your back leg. “First you say “give it a rest” and now you want to give me more work?” He posed glamorously then switched to another with that somewhat implied you giving him a high-five, but it didn’t look quite right. “Not everyone can multitask like you, Mic.”

“I’m just saying you have the experience. You judged the licensing exams a crazy amount of times—and you mentored young heroes before.”

 “I didn’t do any judging this year, and there’s a difference between the American licensing exam and the one here. Also, those heroes already graduated from their program, and I only helped them because I had to. I’m not a good mentor, and, from what you said, I’m sure whoever’s teaching the first years are doing fine on their own.”

Mic paused with his mouth slightly open. His teeth clenched. “About that–”

A colorful blur caught the corner of your eye, but it was too late. A massive weight slammed into your body. The briefcase flew from your hand. What the hell! Your throat squeezed, choking down any sound you could’ve made. First there was shock. Then fire. Then pain. Every. Single. Type. 

Everything burned and your bones rattled you from the inside. You had to get this off! You wrapped your arms around, ready to pick up and throw it down the next floor. 

Your shoulder shrieked back at the embrace, your legs weren’t fairing with the shift either. In this split-second processing of your senses, it was apparent the weight was particularly squishy in certain places. It had purple hair as well, and she was absolutely thrilled to see you.

Your eyes widened. You lifted Nemuri, having stopped midway from slamming her to the ground. Her stomach was at your eye-level as she laughed with joy. That was good, you set her down., her heels clicking on the floor. You could’ve really hurt her. “--didn’t tell me you were coming to town–got you at the airport! Look at YOU!” The squishiness against your body left, replaced by an ecstatic Nemuri squeezing your face. Fingers pressed your cheeks enough to make your lips puff out. You tried to respond to Nemuri, but you might as well have your mouth full of cookies. The questions kept coming. After a bunch of non-answers, Nemuri took her hands off. Of course it was sore, but it was nothing like the rest of you. Unlike with Mic, you KNEW Nemuri was this touchy. This happened so many times a single memory became a cluster of events. 

She turned out of your hold, pointing at Mic aggressively. “Did you know our friend was coming here and NOT tell ME!” 

The scene was soon drowned out by your beating heart. Mic’s sunglasses slipped down his nose revealing a panicked expression toward Nemuri. He held out your briefcase to shield himself from the heat of the backlash. He was talking fast, explaining himself. You pressed your lips tightly in contrast. If they weren’t then you’d pant like you did earlier. 

Nausea arrived once again like a recurring nightmare. Placing your hand over the stitches to push through the thick material did nothing. As predicted, the pain couldn’t be snuffed out. Keeping your face neutral was an uphill battle between scalding heat and pure annoyance.

Screeching thoughts scolded you to ‘stop scratching!’

Then the surge came.

Mic and Midnight were focused on each other. One was mad, one was somewhat scared. It gave you something to work with. Your breath deepened as you flexed your palm against your uniform. Once again the pain separated and simmered down. The only agony on the surface was the itchiness of your wound. It wasn’t perfect. You just had to bear with it—the healing process. 

And watch out for any other attacks from your friends.

The hand on your abdomen balled into a fist. An invisible knife stabbed back inside the wound. Hopefully, the pressure could substitute the need to claw at your skin until your insides spilled into a puddle on the floor. 

Before you got comfortable, something to your left burned through you. Not from a wound, or your quirk. Someone watched you down the corridor. Turning your head, you lowered the invisible knife.

“Aizawa,” Mic called out to him, but didn’t get a response. Aizawa’s attention was on you. Did he see what you did? There was no way he saw the whole situation, you thought. Just when you shanked yourself with the imaginary shiv. Even if he brought it up, so what? It was weird, not illegal. “Look who’s here, isn’t this exciting!” Mic continued. The way Aizawa kept staring you down made it clear he was expecting you to flinch. Maybe you weren’t doing something illegal just now, but he can say you stormed off from him. Which is worse in this context. A lot worse. 

Aizawa tucked a blue file folder he was looking over into his arm with the others. “We saw each other earlier,” he responded coldly. He wasn’t excited to see you. Not today. Not ever. You stood your ground, waiting for him to tell them you walked out on him again, but it never came. He moved past, preferring not to be in the same room with you more than he had to.

“That’s it! C’mon don’t be like that! How often do you get to see an old buddy?”

“Just stay for a minute!”

He continued on his path, not responding to any of their pleas until he reached the door handle. “The meeting is starting soon. Don’t block the door.” He went inside, the door clicking shut behind him with an echo.

“Harsh…” Mic said.

Midnight turned to you. “I thought he’d be happier,” she said wistfully. You don’t blame her for hoping.

You shrugged, lifting your hands. ‘It is what it is,’ you thought, not quite remembering a good translation.

Midnight hummed. Mic moved on from the initial shock, opting to check out the detailing on your briefcase. No follow up questions from either of them. Throughout the years, there was never a time either of them mentioned Aizawa being their coworker. Not that you should care. They didn’t have to tell you anything about what he was up to. If he wanted you to know he could’ve told you himself. Whatever he did was none of your business, so why would they tell you?

Maybe they should’ve. It certainly would’ve avoided this mess. Although, the thought didn’t cross Mic’s mind. He probably heard the muffled yells of the medic for you to give his phone back and dived in with no questions. No hesitation. 

Nonetheless, he could’ve warned you about Aizawa in the email he sent you after. Did he think you wouldn't come back if you knew ahead of time—if you knew Aizawa would be here? Probably not, but damn, dude, give a warning.

Midnight broke through your thoughts, asking how long you were planning to stay. She comments on the tension without any out of pocket comparisons to the devil’s tango. You reassured her you should be gone in two weeks. If you were going to do your research here, no doubt it would be uncomfortable for her and Mic if that’s how you’re going to interact with their friend. “I hope we can do something while you’re here. It’ll be fun,” Midnight offered half-heartedly. Even if you sucked at keeping contact for the past year, she was still nice to you. Although, it’s doubtful you two would have time for each other while you were investigating and she does her jobs.

“Count me in!” Mic puts his free arm around your shoulders, he doesn’t add any pressure, but your arms squeezed into your ribs at the unintentional threat. Like one wrong move and your skin would seer through kevlar and leather. “We have to grab a bite!”

Your ears perk up, stomach coming to the forefront of your thoughts. You were drooling at the thought of finally being able to eat some bomb-ass food.

The passage of time went faster with the distracting fantasy. Not long after agreeing to Mic’s invitation of food, and having to hear a long list of places you couldn’t go to this very moment, the meeting was close to a start–made apparent by the next pro hero arriving to the meeting room. Your friends introduced you to another one of their coworkers, Snipe, who was dressed as a cowboy and actually packed heat.

The lovely thoughts and curiosity came to a halt upon entering the room. Aizawa glared at you for disrupting him from reading what he had in those folders. Without breaking eye contact you reached toward Mic so he could give you back your briefcase, so you could put it down somewhere. 

Aizawa went back to his folders, rubbing his temple like your presence alone vexes him. You chose to place it in the corner of the room by a potted plant. You were careful not to grunt as you squatted. Ignoring the pain, you swiped the pattern on the briefcase, for good luck even if you hardly believe in such a thing. 

Call it habit or instinct, but you glanced over your shoulder after. Of course, there was Aizawa. He eyeballed you, waiting for you to make a mistake. You clenched your jaw as you stood up again, adjusting your uniform before walking back toward Mic toward the center of the room. If Aizawa saw an opportunity, an opening to get rid of you, he’d pounce. 

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #mha x female reader #retrospective by dot #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #whump #tw pain #yamada hizashi #nemuri kayama

[natsglorifiedsimp]

Could I make a request where a few months after Natasha gets her daughter (5yo) back from the red room (bio daughter who she had in the red room) she decides to bring her daughter shopping to get new clothes, and when she turns around one second reader is gone.

She’s panicked and thinks the red room or Hydra top reader again

(While in reality we just mistook some other short redhead for Nat)

She looks all over the mall and eventually she finds us and we’re both crying at this point

Wrong redhead

A/n: I'm sorry this took long hehe but thank you for your request anon, here it is <3

English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. My ask is open for your feedback and corrections.

Please be kind to my ask inbox :>

To those who want to be added to my tag lists. Simply message me or put an ask or comment and I will add you :>

Taglist: @youralphawolf72 @madelineleong @diaryoflife @xxromanoffxx @lissaaaa145 @fxckmiup @mmmmokdok @sayah13 @karmasgxrl @meurgen @simp-erformarvelwomen @lilaswidowspark @snowdrop1026 @ravensinthedaylight @karsonromanoff @aesthelicca

"Oooooo, we going shopping mama?" you squealed, jumping up and down in your tutu that she put on.

"Yes, honey. We are." she smiled, admiring both your giddiness and the outfit she put on. You looked absolutely adorable.

"Up, up!" you put your arms up and wiggle your fingers. She picked you up making sure your tutu wouldn't be in her arm's way.

While on the ride you managed to stay calm even though you were bubbling with excitement. This was your first time in a mall. It was also your first time having to witness different people interacting with each other aside from the team.

Your mother hasn't really taken you out since she got you back from the red room. She wanted to stay low for a while and to be careful in case the red room decided take you again.

Every day she was on high alert. No matter how much she thinks you are safe in the compound, she would still call F.R.I.D.A.Y every 30 minutes just to check up on you.

But today she decided she wanted to relax and give you a new environment that would help you socialize more. She wanted you to be a child and have fun.

---

You didn't know a mall could be this big. Bigger than Uncle Tony's closet. It was big BIG. You couldn't help but wonder how these people could walk around chasing errands when you know they would have sore feet afterward.

Your eyes were everywhere. Soaking all the different people and places you could see in the mall.

Natasha could see the happiness radiating from your eyes. She could tell it was a good thing she went shopping with you.

Natasha picked you up and led you to the clothing station so you guys could pick new outfits that you need. Cause your closet needs a little upgrade.

You started to wander around the stall and examined the clothes that were neatly folded.

"You can touch them, honey. You can get what you think is nice for you to wear." Natasha said, sensing your hesitation.

You looked up to your mom with doe eyes, still seeking her second approval and she nodded in response.

You immediately ran and picked the matching unicorn pajamas that you find cute earlier and picked them up. You also went and examined another set of cute ones and when you don't like it you neatly fold it back how you took it.

You took your time picking out what you liked and ended up picking 4 matching pajamas. Looking up you saw your mom walking to another station and you panicked and ran in her direction not wanting to be left behind.

You followed her around the clothing station and never picked up another set of clothes you wanted to cause you were afraid that she won't allow you to buy more than the 4 PJs you picked out.

Walking past another stall you saw a Black Widow shirt that your mom's face was in.

You tugged the redhead, "Mama! Look! It's you," you looked up to see a different short red-headed woman who was as confused as you.

"You're not mama," you said.

Before the girl could say anything you ran back to the way you were before you followed the girl. At your height and your age, you had a hard time looking for the stall you were in before you followed the wrong redhead. Everything to your point of view looks the same.

Meanwhile, your mom on the other hand was now distressed because you weren't in the place where she last saw you, which is just literally next stall from her.

She couldn't understand how she could miss you being taken or left when she could see you from her peripheral vision.

Her mind races from one idea to another. Maybe you just got lost or maybe you got taken by Hydra again and she will never see you back.

She lowered her head to every stall maybe you were just hiding somewhere. Maybe you thought you guys were playing hide and seek.

While speed walking and whipping her head everywhere she bumped into a redheaded woman and immediately said profanities of apologies.

"I'm really sorry but have you seen a kid? About this height, redheaded, and wearing a tutu?" Natasha asked.

"Are you her mom? She tugged my shirt earlier and thought I was you. I was about to help her but she ran away" the girl explained.

Natasha sighed in relief. That means you were still here just lost.

"Do you know which direction she ran?" she asked again.

After saying thank you to the girl she immediately sprang and looked for you.

"Y/n!" she whisper shouted. "Where are you?"

After scanning every stall for a good 20 minutes she finally saw you on a bench crying and fiddling with your fingers.

Natassha sighed in relief, "There you are"

"I was looking for you everywhere"

You whipped your head to the sound of your mom's voice and you immediately ran up to her and engage her in a hug.

You tighten your hold on her legs and cried. You didn't know how much new place and new people could be this overwhelming. And without your mama, you didn't know what to do in an unfamiliar place like this.

"I wanna go home" you sobbed. Natasha picked you up and gave you a good look.

"It's okay, y/n. I'm here" she ran her hands through your hair. "Next time make sure you're with mama okay?"

"Mhm," you mumbled. "Home" you sniffled.

"I know, baby. But we gotta pay for these and your PJs" she assured. You were still sobbing in her arms not wanting to let go of her after what happened.

"Is this just what you wanted?" she asked. She knew you'd be shy to ask for more.

Your mind immediately remembered the shirt that has your mom's face in it. "Can we buy mama hero shirt?" you asked in between sniffles.

"Mama hero shirt?" she furrowed her eyebrows not knowing what you meant.

"Mhm," you mumbled again.

"Oh, this one" Natasha chuckled seeing her face in a shirt.

"Can we buy that mama? Please?" all your tears were gone all of a sudden and you smiled giddily seeing the shirt in her hands.

"Anything else?"

"Ice cream"

#black widow #mcu #natasha marvel #natasha romonova #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha x daughter!reader #mama up #mama nat #mama scarlett #natasha x teen reader #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff

[chevvy-yates]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Decided it is time for another update so here's a longer post to what I've been up to and stuff that circles around in my head lately.

tagging:

@medtech-mara, @imaginarycyberpunk2023, @itzsassha, @humberg, @kittenchrissy, @rosapexa, @cinnamon-mey, @heywoodvirgin, @dreamskug, @drunkchasind, and everyone who sees and wants to do as well.

No pressure as always!

—

1. CHARACTERS & LORE

Let's begin with sth. first I have on my mind for a while: As this fandom (sadly) seems to fall more and more apart, I would like to know if there are still people interested in reading actual lore content or not. As some of you know my dear friend @nervouswizardcycle and I are continously building up some sort of our own expansion after the main game events with rp/fic, character builds, backstory lore and support by vp and it eats a lot of time. The lack of interactions on tblr during the last few months and in several discord servers has led to me not posting a lot anymore either (beside my mental exhaustion phases that come and go). It seems more active again though, as majority already played Phantom Liberty by now or are right into it, so they slowly come back bc they presumably avoided spoilers. —————— So, here is me wondering how many following my blog are 'really' interested to see me sharing all lore of the boys (including story parts) or does the majority prefer just to see pretty pics and that's it? —————— (I've wanted to add a poll here but it doesn't let me save my post so I might do it in a seperate one a bit later) I know: it's my blog, I post what I like in the first place, and I'll likely continue that way but somehow I would like to know if it's worth the effort of formating and thinking about how the posts could look or if I can take that time to do something else with it instead if there's less interest. So, I would just keep it in my tiny discord server I share with my rp partner(s)/in private chats with those interested bc it's gotten to be a lot and we are still at the very start it feels.

2. SKILLS, CYBERWARE & HUMANITY LOSS

As I'm the type that can't have ocs with no background/lore, I sat down the other day and did a build for each with their skills, wrote down what chrome everyone got (incl. additional c-ware from the lore books plus I'm reading e.g. into what programs my runner twins are likely to make use of). It went this far that my friend used the amount of the game's 'cyberware capacity' as 'humanity loss'. It is used in the lore books/ttrpg anyways. So I've counted all my boys possible capacity* and use it as humanity loss (HL) now which led me to thinking about which one of my ocs goes to get treatment and how often they go to see a MedTech on regular base. I thought I could give them a certain minus amount to reduce the HL for each depending on how much or less c-ware they got — e.g. Thyjs as soldier has most (but all is good Militech chrome) and used to go and still goes regularly so his HL gets a huge reduce — whereas Ryder's gets always nulled no matter how often he gets threatment, because BEAST (rogue AI) eats it away each time (to understand that in full you probably have to know the story). Ry must have most HL loss as he often walks along the edge towards cyberpsychosis, so I'm forced to reduce Thyjs' with most c-ware installed a huge amount. And that's how I made it now. It's probably far away from canon ttrpg as my 'canon cp world' consists of 75% game, 20% lorebooks and 5% own added ideas I haven't seen on the lore yet. And I like it that way I gotta say. On a little side note: It also had me thinking about creating a new support character for the team that could be in fact a MedTech. But I won't do that anytime soon.

* some things might still change as I slowly started playing their playthroughs and skill them for real now. I love each build so far because it's a whole different experience! And playing someone with noe netrunning ability is hell as I was only usedto paly netrunner before.

3. FIC SNIPPET TIME

I decided to give you an insight of what I've roughly written yesterday about Ryder and Thyjs having a talk about how they feel for each other:

“Ik ben eerlijk. I liked that accidental kiss we shared a-and i-ik find je leuk, Ry. Probably more as— a friend is supposed to do.” De Wit instantly starts feeling nauseous and something tightens around his stomach but he needs to get it off of his heavy feeling soul. “I-I guess I have stronger feelings for you than I had expected and it’s confusing me.” He frowns, “It’s not usual for me. Never felt any kind of such an attraction towards other men. I-It’s just you— I think I might be into you, Ryder.” The last sentences came in a mere murmur than spoken and Ryder’s name was only a light whisper. Thyjs didn’t dare to look to his left. He feared he would lose his new gained friend now because he said his stupid thoughts aloud. Instead he continues staring at the distant horizon feeling the lump in his throat only getting heavier. The sun was already half arisen and the sky was painted in a bright orange and yellow fading out into never ending blue. After de Wit seems to have finally finished his long talk, Ryder realizes the pack has fallen out of his hands. He needed to repeat in his mind what Thyjs just told him. Did the man really pour out his heart to him at this very moment? He couldn’t believe it at first. The pale soldier he obviously secretly fell for just told him he was having feelings for him that reach further than friendship? It took him what seemed like an eternity to get out of his frozen state. Ry moves up into a straighter position, still supporting his body with his right forearm, turning more towards Thyjs, who is still watching the rising sun with a rather sad look on his face blinking every once in a while. Eventually Scharfenberg brings up his left hand to reach for the older man’s face and de Wit suddenly feels two fingers under his chin making him look at the younger man again. He sees a tiny smile on those dark lips he caught himself looking at so many times in utter secrecy. That tiny smile that’s usually the base for a brighter even more heartwarming smile baring dangerous fangs who make the man look frightening, but smiling like that? Thyjs often caught himself thinking Ry looked cute with these fangs as well. Ry sees Thyjs’ confusion as his eyes look questioning right back at him. So Ry better says something now. “I-Ich äh—” he clears his throat, “—I don’t know where to start. How to talk feelings in the first place.” Letting Thyjs talk himself off seemed to be right for Ryder and it was worth it, because he thinks it’s the most earnest confession someone has ever made to him, yet he doesn’t know how to answer to all this best. So he decides to place himself into a sitting position, to look the soldier boy straight into the eyes. His gaze gets distracted by Thy’s slightly opened lips for a split second. It is the same situation as earlier downstairs, only that Ry has his fingers still under de Wit’s chin and starts to lead his face towards the other man. Just a few inches are left between them and Thyjs can feel the younger man’s warm breath on his skin. He also has this incredible sight at those beautiful male black eyelashes again the very moment they cast down and then he feels those same lips from before on his own with such a soft pressure that again he closes his eyes in an instant and starts to revel in that same electricity running through him but also the revenant paralyze surrounding him again.

It is just a brief kiss, similar to the one in the apartment downstairs but shyer in its move. As soon as it happened it ended. Ryder opens his eyes afterwards immediately because he fears somehow the man in front of him would get up, step back and turn away but instead he still feels his chin pressed softly against his fingers. It casts another tiny smile onto Ryder’s face as his now racing heart skips a beat or two, seeing that Thyjs didn’t make a move nor a sound. His eyes open now as well and Ry swears he’s never seen heterochromia looking so soft but also surprised at the same time at him like Thyjs does right now. He waits for a reaction but Thyjs just keeps looking at him, lips parting shortly just to close again. “What? — Did that make you that speechless now?” Ry asks with nearly the same surprisement. Thyjs lets out a heavy breath and nods, eyes totally lost looking at him which lets Scharfenberg put on a warm smile. “Want to— try again?” Thyjs swallows his unspoken words that gathered in his throat he couldn’t speak aloud and nods again. Heavier, his lips turning into a smile as well and his eyes are suddenly filled with happiness and relief, like he’s telling Ryder that he cannot wait to have their lips meeting once more and to feel that intense buzz from before as it spreads through his entire body like when he’s powering up electricity. This feeling right now? It’s strong and sends an entirely new sensation through him. Is dat het gevoel van vlinders in je buik? He wonders but doesn’t get much more time to think about it because Ryder choses to lean in for a second time.

It can and probably will be rewritten or changed but I definitely want to have it this way! Thjys starts talking and talking almost doing a monologue instead of a dialogue until he comes to the final point and Ryder wants to respond with words but doesn't know how to (he may find them a bit later) and just does what's best: kiss this soldier. I'll max out this kissing scene for a lot more pages just because I can.

I love the idea of Thyjs as war machine being totally romantic and getting super takative when alone with Ryder. And Ryder definitely is a soft romatic boy, alsways was bu Beast made his life harder to show this side more but Thyjs gets to see it also in private.

4. VP

Since I do more 'actual play the game' now even though I have installed most of all mods back, I rarely do pics atm. If I do, they are just rather nice pics where I try to use the ingame light rather than to spawn spot lights. here's a preview of what comes next:

I have so many ideas I want to put into reality. Especially pics that underline the rp/fic chapters mentioned above. But I'm not going to force myself. I'll see what I can realize for the rest of the year and what gets to be stamped as a New Year's resolution. I'll probably focus on a few blorbo pics this weekend because Ryder's birthday is around the corner (31st October) and Jay's boyfriend Enzolino has just a day prior. So if I can manage, I'll do that in the first place.

Thanks for reading! <3

#wip wednesday #wip #fic snippet #vp preview #thoughts #long post #not behind a cut sry friendos #cyberpunk 2077

[foxymoxynoona]

Tell Me What Changed Pt. 8

Banner and lines by the talented @awrkive

Summary: Alex and Jungkook have been best friends since childhood –actual best friends. She is NOT in love with him, for real, and wishes people would stop assuming that. Why does no one question if he’s in love with her? Huh? But it might have to do with his successful fuckboy status, while Alex is very much… not that. Which is fine and doesn’t matter! Until Jimin’s impending wedding leaves her eager for a date and willing to put herself out there, and Jungkook can’t believe what happens next.

Fuckboy Best Friend JK x OC

CW and tags: fuckboy behavior, jealousy, pining, heartbreak, angst, bad language, explicit sex, sexy photos, alcohol, f2l, who knows what else

Read on AO3 here or below

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

“Hey Hobi, can you grab my hair?” Alex called, arm deep in ground beef and spices she was hand folding. She hadn’t thought about her hair when she started but it kept swinging down in front of her face and it was long enough now to land in the bowl. Maybe it was time for a haircut… but she’d never been good at styling hair and the shorter it was, the more she felt like she needed to do things with it. 

In seconds Hoseok was behind her, a ponytail holder from her purse stretched around his fingers. The gentle way he dragged her hair back, sliding his fingers through it to get the last strands, gave her goosebumps in spite of the gross wet feel of fatty meat caked between her fingers. Very disorienting combination. 

He twisted it one too few times so it was loose and low on her back but at least it was out of the beef.  

“It looks… it smells good,” he corrected himself. She grinned at his eagerness to praise and support her. She had admitted it was daunting to cook for them with Seokjin’s culinary skill on display so often. But Alex had wanted to cook for Hoseok for a while and finally had the time and energy to buy the things she needed.

“What is it?” Seokjin asked, leaning against the counter. 

“It’s meatballs,” Milena insisted, to which Seokjin gave an incredulous look until Alex confirmed, “We’re doing American and Chinese fusion tonight…”

“It’s really meatballs?” Hoseok asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“They’re fancy meatballs,” Alex defended. 

“I didn’t mean anything bad! Are they Chinese meatballs?”

“I don’t know,” Alex sulked. “Not really… but usually zha jiang mian has pork or beef in it but you said Ren and Samantha don’t eat meat so I left the pork out of the sauce and the rest of us can add them meatballs–”

Hoseok laughed and touched her hips, “Alex, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sure it will be great.”

“It will be great,” she said, but stopped herself before adding Jungkook loves my meatballs!

A cold chill slid across her shoulders but she ignored it and leaned into Hoseok’s warm hands with a hip wiggle before chasing him away so she could continue. Seokjin hovered a bit longer, until she yelled that he was making her nervous, and he laughed and yelled back that she better not poison them, and Hoseok yelled at Seokjin for insulting her, and they went off to set the table. 

Even with pressure to cook well, Alex felt more relaxed than she had in weeks. Not that everything was perfect and easy. Living at home again was taking some transitioning. Her whole daily routine and social life felt like it had been tossed into a salad shaker. And also she missed her best friend like fuck. 

But she didn’t feel like she was juggling knives. She didn’t walk on eggshells around anyone or feel like she was hiding things or keeping secrets. Her fears that Hoseok would have enough and dumb her for the drama subsided. She didn’t have to worry herself sick trying to figure out what to do because hey, the arm was gone! Just the whole damn arm! She had to learn to live without the arm but people did that all the time! She couldn’t slam her fingers in the kitchen drawer now or something something.

Things were simpler and easier and she took that to be a sign she had done the right thing. Probably living at home was going to drive her crazy before too long, even though she loved her parents, but if all went well, maybe in a year or two she’d be moving in with Hoseok anyway! Oh god. Or if that was too soon, maybe she could jump into a roommate space with Rebekah or Minxi if that freed up. Or if she got too miserable she’d just look for a new roommate on craigslist or whatever. She had options. Tomorrow was a new day. The sky was her oyster or something like that.

Yes, this was the right thing to do. She hummed along to music Milena put on in the living room even though she wasn’t familiar with it and focused on cooking so she wouldn’t accidentally burn it. The meatballs were easy but the zha jiang mian was easy to fuck up if she forgot to pay attention and burned the sauce. One time she and Jungkook had smoked themselves out of the kitchen trying to get it just right– ok, maybe that actually got distracted by videos on his phone– 

She hummed louder, and cleared her mind of anything that wasn’t cooking, and smiled at the easy laughter of her friends and the overly loud joke told by her boyfriend that set them off. The doorbell rang, their last two vegetarian guests arriving, and Hoseok went running to answer it like an overexcited puppy. She thought Hoseok was happier too. It was a sad turn of events but everything would be better in the long run, that was the truth. 

*

“Ah those were some damn good meatballs,” Hoseok said once the food had been eaten, dishes cleared away, leftovers stored, and Tate, Milena, Ren, and Samantha had said their farewells. Seokjin was already holed up in his room, the noise of him mumbling to himself as he played his game audible if you lingered near his door, which Alex did not ever, being well acquainted with other noises one might accidentally overhear doing so.

Hoseok and Alex weren’t there for long though. He sexily threw the dishtowel over his shoulder and Alex’s grin must have revealed the appeal because he laughed and gestured her closer.

“Thank you for cooking,” he said, sliding his arms over her shoulders. “It’s cool to show off my girlfriend.”

“Yeah? I’m glad it turned out well.”

He kissed her forehead, which was sweet. Then he hunched further and she leaned up so he could kiss her for real. That easy warm feeling wrapped around her. The fact that kissing Hoseok was normal to her now was in itself still remarkable. She felt like they’d really gone through something together, even if the stress and suffering had been primarily hers, and the fact everything was still so good soothed her soul. She saw so many stories about toxic or messy relationships, it was like the basis of every romantic movie, but her relationship with Hoseok was just easy once she’d cut off the arm that was Jungkook! Was it supposed to be this easy? Was she just really lucky?! That seemed unlikely and yet the proof was there.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her, arms comfortably wrapped around. Hoseok’s hugs were just something else, they’d made a hugger out of her when she never thought of herself as one before. Being hugged by Hoseok recharged your batteries straight to full.  

She wasn’t about to tell him the embarrassing truth: I’m thinking about how the future with you looks so peaceful and steady. A calm, flat horizon with blue skies. Surely something would go wrong at some point but she had a hard time picturing what. Couldn’t they be supportive and kind and just always be ok? Short of one of them doing something wildly out of character, was this it now? Were they just going to be happy forever? Someday they’d move in together and get married and have a baby or something? Or maybe just adopt dogs. But they both had jobs that were good and liked living in this area so probably no major moves. Could life really be as easy as that? No, right?

“Alex,” he murmured, rustling her hair. “You’re quiet. Are you ok?”

“Just digesting,” she assured him. “And thinking about how nice this is.”

“Yeah. It is nice. Oh, I meant to tell you– you know I started going by my old dance school?”

“Mm-hm.”

“I signed up to start taking a few classes again. I miss dancing and I figured why wait? I’m only getting older.”

She pulled away and beamed, “Yeah, you should! I want to watch you dance!”

“Ok, good, I want you there. There’s usually a showcase later in the fall… ah, I’m rusty but I’ll get it back.”

“Yeah! Oh my god, yeah, I can’t wait to see you!”

“Ok ok,” he grinned. “Good then. That’s nice.”

“Yes, that’s nice,” she giggled, and pressed her face back to his chest. 

“You know what would be nicer?” he asked after another minute of swaying.

“Um… what?”

“If we got naked,” he whispered. “You, me, my freshly made bed? The meatballs were really good and they gave me a lot of energy. Do you think…”

“Do I think what?”

“Do you want to? We don’t have to if you don’t feel like it–”

“Why wouldn’t I feel like it? Yeah, let’s go! Let me run to the restroom first but…”

“Ok, I don’t want to pressure you though. I know it’s been a few weeks and you haven’t been feeling well…”

Alex paused at the edge of the kitchen, only now realizing he was right. It had been a few weeks since they’d had sex. Their sex life was steady and stable so she didn’t exactly track how often they did the deed, but she happened to know that he was right, they hadn’t had sex since right after she’d moved out of her apartment. She’d been desperate for sex but afterwards wound up feeling like she’d over-exherted herself and had been too distracted to be any real good for Hoseok, though he hadn’t said that. She hadn’t avoided sex on purpose since but it just hadn’t happened again...

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize that– but you’re right! I swear I’m not avoiding sex or anything, I guess I just wasn’t feeling great for a little bit.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, it’s fine! That happens. You don’t have to apologize,” he insisted, running his hands up to cradle her face. “If you still don’t feel like it–”

“No, I do. Let’s get back in the sack, let’s go,” she assured him. She didn’t know how to explain to him that without understanding it, she’d felt like she was waiting for something… But what? Waiting for something to point out she wanted to and ought to have sex with her boyfriend? Waiting for permission to be normal? It made no sense. She didn’t know anything yet about the ebb and flow of sex in a relationship, just that things were good and she wanted to feel good in that department too. 

Fortunately, it was easy to get right back into rhythm together. Alex finished with a happy, satisfied sigh after just the right amount of time fucking, and curled up comfortably, blankets clutched to her chest as she admired Hoseok’s body stretched beside her, unabashedly naked. 

“Good?” she asked with a wide grin to show her own answer.

Hoseok matched hers, “Yeah, good. Very good. Always good. Are you staying the night?”

“Uh… I want to but…” She grabbed her phone, which had buzzed right in the middle. She’d had a suspicion that proved to be true: her mom wanted to know when she’d be home. “Well this is going to be annoying…”

“What is?”

“Talking to my mom about the fact I spend the night at my boyfriend’s house sometimes…”

“Oh.” He grimaced. “I didn’t think about that. Is that going to be a problem?”

“It better not be. I’m a grown up!”

“Yeah and you used to live with a guy,” Hoseok pointed out.

“Sure but I wasn’t having sex with him,” she giggled right over the shock that Hoseok would casually mention that sore spot right now. “I’d better go home tonight so I can clarify boundaries before it’s a fight… besides, you work tomorrow don’t you?”

“Not until eight.”

“I don’t want to wake up alone in your bed,” she playfully pouted.

“Yeah it would be hard to leave you alone and naked in my bed,” he agreed, reaching down to kiss her shoulder. 

She let out a deep sigh. 

“Ok, here I go.”

It still took her fifteen minutes to pull herself from the warmth of his bed, and pee, and dress. She dreaded this talk with her parents even though it had to happen. She couldn’t never spend the night with her boyfriend again just because she was living at home. She was twenty-six now!

Shuffling to her car in the chilly September air to go back to her childhood bedroom after great sex felt all kinds of wrong, but she was happy despite that. This inconvenience would only be temporary. The future had never looked happier and calmer than when she was around Hoseok. She felt more confident in herself, like she was really growing up, making major decisions in her own self-interest, facing any troubles head on, doing what was best. Now, since she didn’t pay rent, she could even build up a savings account! So mature! So adult! 

When she left though, and sat in her car, and drove home, that feeling of temporary crept back up. That sense she was waiting for something nudged her in the spine again. Waiting for what? This was it! This was her new normal! She thought maybe her brain was still adjusting to that truth, that being away from her apartment and Jungkook was not just a temporary state but a permanent one. That the arm was really gone, not just asleep. 

There might be a shock when that finally set in. But ok. She’d get through that too. Alex 2.0 was on top of her shit and ready to face the world with Hoseok by her side! 

Too bad he couldn’t be by her side as she explained to her parents she was twenty-six and sometimes wanted to sleep overnight with her boyfriend after they fucked. Obviously in very very different words than that…

Jungkook craned his neck to watch for the first step as he carried his last box of shit up to the second bedroom in Namjoon’s house. The movers had hauled his stuff over yesterday but since he’d rolled to a monthly lease that went to the end of the month, he still had a week to get the last of his things out. Not that he was dragging his feet or anything because he’d already spent too long alone in that crappy empty apartment. He’d hand-carried the last of his things today. He would schedule the final walkthrough and turn over the key next week. Moving was a pain in the dick, that was all. 

He chucked the last box into the pile against the wall, patted Doggo’s head, and then went downstairs where Namjoon stood at the kitchen counter waiting.

“Ok, here’s your key and your garage door opener,” Namjoon said, tapping the counter beside them. “Um… what else…”

“Any more ground rules?” Jungkook asked with a grin. There had been no shortage of discussion once the hangovers after Jungkook’s party wore off and they both recalled that Namjoon had said Jungkook could move in with him. Shockingly, Namjoon didn’t take it back. Though there had been many subsequent conversations about “what was fair” as roommates –what the bills were, when to be quiet, how to clean. “What’s important to you as a roommate?” Namjoon had asked him and Jungkook had just stared at him blankly, no answer in mind. He’d just figured it out with Alex. Back in college, he’d figured it out with Taehyung and Jimin. He wasn’t really a premeditated kind of guy.

Jungkook had braced himself for Namjoon to say something about “visitor policy” or something but it hadn’t come up. The house had two full bathrooms and their rooms were at separate ends of the hall so maybe it wouldn’t be an issue, if Jungkook starting bring girls over all the time or whatever. Which he was totally, absolutely going to do. 

“No,” Namjoon said. “No no. I’m sure we can talk through anything that comes up.”

“Yeah, so what were you thinking about the housewarming rager?” Jungkook asked with a playful grin. “I work Friday and Saturday so I was thinking Sunday night–”

“Yeah ok you can do that after you mow the lawn.”

“Ya, did you just let me move in to be your manservant?” Jungkook laughed.

Namjoon was all grins too and Jungkook felt his moving-day tension ease as Namjoon assured him, “No no, you’re helping me out a lot actually.”

“I am?”

“What, you thought I’m just doing this to be a good friend?” 

“Well… yeah…”

“Damn, really? You think that highly of me?” Namjoon laughed. He pulled two beers out of the fridge, offering them with a gesture; Jungkook accepted with a nod and made a mental note to buy the next case. 

“I know we’re both kind of nervous about how our uh, different styles will mesh,” Namjoon admitted. “But we’re friends, we can figure it out. It’s hard to go from living with someone to then living alone –I had to do that too. And uh… I don’t know, it’s kind of lonely being alone for the first time. I don’t like it as much as I expected to. It’s depressing having to do everything on my own around here. And also way more expensive than I expected.”

“Yeah, I can see that…” His own monthly bills would be a bit higher now; savings in some areas since Namjoon owned, losses in others since this place was bigger and nicer than what he’d been living in with Alex. He could afford it but, well, it was probably good he didn’t need that Europe trip fund anymore.

“So yeah, make yourself at home. If something comes up, I don’t know, just bring it up with me and we’ll talk through it like grown ass adults.”

“Yeah No problem. And seriously, dude, thanks for letting me move in here. The thought of trying to get used to a new roommate I don’t know shit about…”

“Yeah, I remember. I know. Hey, if we’d made different choices in life, maybe this is where we would have been starting after college!”

“Yeah, that’s a way to think about it,” Jungkook agreed.

What Jungkook had appreciated about Namjoon from the start was that he’d never once said anything like dude you’re making too big of a deal, she’s just your friend who moved out. After drunkenly blabbing his bullshit to waaaay too many people at his birthday party until basically everyone knew the whole sob story, he’d braced himself for the teasing, even if his friends meant it lovingly. Instead he could see the careful way his close friends tried to be helpful, and he was really touched by it. Whether that was Namjoon letting him move in, Taehyung scheduling more frequent game sessions, Jimin inviting him over for dinner more often and only asking him to cook half the time. Yes, it all made him feel a little pathetic, but he appreciated their intentions. He didn’t need them to go so out of their way to avoid mentioning Alex but he was also a little grateful for it.

But outside his core circle of friends, he found the “support” a little harder to endure. He thought going out with people a lot would keep him distracted instead of counting the days. It looked good on his Instagram too, in case she happened to be watching; she hadn’t unfollowed him, though she wasn’t posting lately either. But he’d quickly discovered that at the whiff of heartbreak, most people became absolutely well-intentioned assholes. He didn’t just volunteer the information but if it got (easily) dragged out of him (because sometimes talking about it felt like a string still connected them and this was all just a temporary bump), they would inevitably say something like Oh hey, I’ve got a friend I can introduce you to or geez she sounds like a bitch, you’re better off or better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

“Hey, do you think it’s true, that saying about ‘it’s better to have loved and lost–’”

“Nah, it’s bullshit,” Namjoon chuckled as he led the way to the living room. With nothing better to do, Jungkook followed. He sank into one of the two chairs, both positioned so they could look out the windows on either side of the fireplace. Namjoon had a bird feed out there and some little brown things were hopping around chowing down.

“Yeah…”

“I just think it’s trying to stack-rank two things that both suck. Why do people get so competitive about establishing this is better or worse than that? It’s lemons to oranges, they aren’t the same thing even though they’re related. Being lonely sucks but so does having your heart fucked. Not convincing anyone you’re a catch sucks but so does someone thinking you are and then changing their mind, you aren’t worth learning to compromise or whatever… I don’t know. It all sucks.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed. It sucked a little bit less though to hear Namjoon say that. “People keep telling me time heals all wounds, shit like that.”

“Oh yeah. I got uh, ‘there’s more fish in the sea’ so many fucking times.”

“Yeah! But I don’t want time to heal the wound, I want the girl to heal the wound,” Jungkook argued.

“Yeah I didn’t want another fish, I liked the fish I had…. At least for a while. Now I’m over it. But it’s hard when you’re hurting; it feels like no one has ever hurt like you before. So I understand what people mean, they mean well. No one invents heartbreak and it’s hard to watch people hurting so you try to find something to say to make it hurt a little less when the truth is that it just takes time. But we’re conditioned not to want to see people suffer.”

“You think that part’s conditioned or natural?”

“God I’m so glad you moved in,” Namjoon laughed and let his head fall back and kicked his feet up on a little ottoman

“I’m just curious what you think…”

“I don’t think you get enough credit– well probably it’s your own fault. Your instagram doesn’t scream intellectual.”

Jungkook laughed, “Don’t slutshame me, man! I don’t know that I’m an intellectual, I just think sometimes… maybe not enough…” He thought of late night conversations with Alex –drunk, high, or maybe just sleepy. He’d felt understood. With her gone, he worried he’d never feel understood again. One night stands weren’t usually trying to.

But Namjoon understood some of him. Jimin understood some other parts. Taehyung too. 

“Oh hey you know what else you can help me with, I just got that record player working again –Yoongi helped me. Ah, is he a bad topic…”

“Nah, it’s fine. What can I help you with?”

“My vinyl collection is small. I want to go thrift store hunting for more, fill up a whole one of those bookcases. You’ve got good music taste, you can help me out, yeah?”

To say Jungkook was flattered was a massive understatement.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

And it did! It genuinely did sound great. Life with Namjoon in his nice house with his minimal but simple and mature decor would be different than his starter home with Alex, but this could be ok. Hopefully eventually he would feel more like he fit in here. Right now he couldn’t imagine any of his stuff spreading throughout the house or what it was going to actually be like when he was in and out or how Namjoon was going to handle it if Jungkook didn’t keep things exactly the way he wanted him to but he’d figure it out. Of course he felt like a guest right now, he hadn’t even spent his first night here yet. Namjoon was clearly going out of his way to make him feel welcome.

He had really good friends. Maybe Alex wasn’t the only one he hadn’t verbalized enough appreciation for.

“I really appreciate you letting me move in here, man.”

“Stop saying that,” Namjoon laughed. “You’re welcome here. Mi casa es su casa. Just relax and watch the birds.”

“What’s that little black and white one?” he asked. There were a lot of them and it reminded him of Alex.

He had to stop thinking of Alex all the time. It had been almost a month since she moved out. He was still seeing her in a fucking bird, that couldn’t be healthy, right? Time to stop.

He couldn’t stop thinking of Alex. He still thought about her every single day. He didn’t want that to stop so he needed to learn to live with it, that’s what Namjoon had just said and he trusted Namjoon’s advice more than anyone’s. Time, it would just take time, that’s what Namjoon had said. 

“That’s a chickadee,” Namjoon snickered. “It’s the most common bird. You don’t know what a chickadee is? God I have so much to teach you about domestic suburban life…”

“Sorry man, I was too busy catching other kinds of chicks.”

“Uh huh.”

“But yeah, teach me about the backyard birds. What’s that black and white one with the red head?”

“You’re trolling me, right? You…everyone knows what a woodpecker is…”

“Pecker? Damn whoever named these birds was kind of horny, huh?”

“Ornithologists.”

“Horny-thologists?”

Namjoon grabbed the small decorative pillow from his chair and launched it at Jungkook; he barely had time to move his beer so it wouldn’t spill, barking out a complaint. 

“Isn’t your dick what got you into trouble in the first place?” Namjoon insisted.

“Actually no, my lack of self awareness did.”

Namjoon spluttered with laughter and it made Jungkook laugh too. 

“Lack of self-aware– My ex-wife said the same damn thing about me,” Namjoon admitted. “We’ll be all right, JK.

“Yeah I mean there are plenty of birds in the yard,” Jungkook agreed. “Better to have fed and flown away than never to have shat on the feeder that fed you–”

“Stop stop, where is this coming from?”

“Oh shit did heartbreak actually break me? Am I poetic now?”

“You might be poetic now,” Namjoon laughed. “You should write these down!”

“No I shouldn’t, they’re really bad jokes.”

“They’re funny to me.”

“Namjoon, man, you may not be as smart as everyone thinks you are.”

Namjoon was really squirming, he was laughing so hard. The birds in the yard startled and a bunch flew away –but not the chickadees. They just kept going about their business, snarfing down the birdseed while all the scaredy-birds scattered. But within a few minutes, when nothing else startled them, the other birds came back. Ok, maybe Alex looked like a chickadee but she acted more like whatever those other things were. And if he didn’t scare her and just waited very still and patient, maybe she’d come back. And if she didn’t ever, maybe by then he’d have learned to live without her.

“What are those other ones?” he asked Namjoon. “The ones that came back?”

“White-breasted nuthatch–”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Ok how do I sign up to name birds, since any idiot can come up with this shit. I’m going to name that one a Cockenspiel–”

“That’s a grackle.”

“GRACKLE.”

Someday he was going to have Alex in stitches laughing at these bird names. Right now, Namjoon would do.

“Ok let’s see what records you've got so far, what are you missing? We should go to garage sales too, I bet old people sell good shit like that.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re right.”

But they didn’t rush to look at the records. It was nice, just sitting and watching the birds. Not needing to think or feel or do a single thing, just watching the little fluffs eat. 

“Ok what about that cute fluffy gray one?”

“I really don’t want to answer that.”

“Joon…”

“It’s a um… it’s a tit. It’s a titmouse…”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Look these are just backyard birds, they don’t even have the horniest names! Look it up on your phone, I think there are even worse ones– hold on, I’ll look it up…”

Ok. Time was passing and maybe he could do this, one dumb bird at a time.

For two people who had not been married, the deep links of their life continued to surface in unexpected and incredibly annoying ways over time. At first, every few days she noticed something she’d left behind, or something of Jungkook’s she had accidentally thrown in the box –she’d found three of his shirts but the thought of returning them was mortifying in case he thought she’d taken them on purpose, but also she wanted her ceiling projector back which was probably still in his bedroom. They shared streaming services which were all in his name because he’d gotten a discount through work and she spent an afternoon writing down what episode she was on in everything and then couldn’t bring herself to sign up fresh for her own accounts on anything yet. They shared a Google calendar which she had to uninstall from all of her devices so she wouldn’t get reminders of his work shifts because apparently he was still using it and she dreaded the day “Jungkook Pussy Appointment” would pop up on her phone. Several times she accidentally sent packages to the old address and had to sneak into the mailroom to get them; after about two weeks she went to Jimin and In’am’s for dinner and they delivered her a stack of mail Jungkook had passed along. That one hurt a lot because couldn’t he just text her that he had a stack and she could swing by–

But maybe he wasn’t comfortable. Maybe he was making a point of giving her the space she’d asked for. Maybe he was sulking. He’d never responded to her happy birthday message so it was possible he just hated her too.

Of all the bills, the one she dragged her feet on the most though was the phone bill. Alex had been on Jungkook’s phone plan for the last three years, once her parents kicked her off and she and Jungkook realized a family plan would be cheaper, especially with his Verizon employee discount. She wasn’t sure what it would take to roll her number off to its own plan and she dreaded the monthly increase and also doing phone things was just annoying. It had been awesome to just roll into the store last time she needed one and Jungkook did all the things and handed her the phone with the best deals and off she went. 

In September, she just Venmoed him her half of the monthly bill like she always did with the note: sorry I’ll get off your plan quick!

She did not get off his plan quick. He accepted the money without comment, no response back, though did transfer her $30 back with for the groceries you left. She thought about trying to return the security deposit again, because she felt guilty she’d left him with so little time to find a roommate. She didn’t know if he’d found one yet. She wasn’t totally avoiding their friends, but she’s only seen Rebekah and Minxi on their own and texted a little with Jimin, and she felt like everyone made a point of not saying anything, not asking anything.

Then she started feeling guilty in case he didn’t realize he was suddenly going to have to pay for the streaming services on his own, so she transferred him half of that too: hey I’m rolling off now, make your new roommate help pay but didn’t want to leave you in a lurch.

He sent it back: it’s $7. I’ll be fine.

She thought his tone was kind of salty and decided that maybe it wasn’t cute to send him these little things. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who needed space. She had, after all, possibly broken his heart. Possibly not. But possibly? It was a major factor in moving out, after all. It was hard to watch someone you loved be with someone else and if he loved her so much that he couldn’t keep it to himself while she had a happy relationship, she didn’t want to put him through watching her be happy.

So she didn’t send him any money for anything else, but also just kind of forgot about it until October when she suddenly remembered the bill would be due again soon and she had not rolled onto her own account. Probably she would have put it off another month and just sent him the money, lazy because he hadn’t demanded she get off or kicked her off himself yet. But then at work she spilled a whole carafe of milk on her pants, and then when trying to clean it up with the case off, she’d kind of accidentally thrown it –look, it was a panicked clumsy mistake, but the screen protector had already been shattered and didn’t save it now, so the screen itself shattered. Plus no matter how well she cleaned it, the whole thing smelled like sour milk within hours. And since she had to transfer off his account anyway, she realized she needed to just go into the store and hope the folks there would recognize her and not press her for account authorization information she didn’t have.

But obviously she wasn’t going to go alone, just in case she did run into Jungkook. She was going to take Hoseok but realized that would turn the mall trip into many hours and anyway he was working the afternoon shift on her free day. She used Siri on her phone to call Rebekah, the one friend she knew would pick up the phone and not just demand to know why she was calling instead of texting. Even though she’d had to endure Rebekah’s teasing, “Does the Sabbath mean nothing to you? You’re lucky I’ll still go shopping… just don’t tell my parents.”

Alex felt like an asshole to not have thought about it, though Rebekah was sometimes loose with which traditions she kept. In this instance, Alex was infinitely grateful for the flexibility. Rebekah’s presence with her at the mall was just what she’d needed. 

“We went on three dates but..”

“Oh, not good?” Alex asked as Rebekah caught her up on the things she’d missed in the last five weeks, starting with her own life. Somehow that five weeks felt both very long and like no time at all. 

“No he was just kind of… just nothing to him. He had no personality,” Rebekah lamented. “Everything I asked him about, his answer was just ‘well what kind of dessert do you like?’ Look I do not want to make 98% of the decisions in a relationship, I need someone with opinions, and with preferences, and needs.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Alex nodded along, trying not to accidentally make eye contact with anyone as she held the ball of a lollipop in her cheek. She felt like a small child but when they’d passed the candy store right by the front entrance, she’d felt an undeniable need for a cotton candy flavored blue lollipop. There was something about being in a mall when she hadn’t been in it for several months that made her want to do all sorts of stupid mall things. She almost asked Rebekah if she wanted to get soft pretzels too but stopped herself in time because not only did it give her stomach a painful twist thinking of Jungkook, she also remembered the mall ones weren’t kosher, which Rebekah had already mentioned she was keeping more strictly again, motivated by so many recent Jewish holidays with her family. 

Honestly, Alex admired her faith and her dedication to it. She wished she was that dedicated to anything. Sure she felt her Chinese heritage threaded through many parts of her life, and she enjoyed a lot of traditional holidays and customs with her family, but it wasn’t quite the same, she thought, as embodying a practice daily the way Rebekah did. There wasn’t really anything she embodied daily: not even drinking water and eating healthy, though she’d started going on Baba’s daily walks with him if she was around. Mostly to get her parents off her back because if she wasn’t with Hoseok, she was basically just hanging around the house which they were far more judgmental about than her previous roommate.

“How’s living at home?” Rebekah asked her once she seemed adequately vented about her disappointing dating life.

“Eh…”

“Sorry, should I not have asked–”

“No, it’s fine, don’t make that part of it awkward. It just feels like moving out was this big step into adulthood and going home is a step backwards and my parents don’t know how to treat me because am I an adult or am I not? If I’m not paying rent or bills, aren’t I just their daughter again? And it’s hard to put my foot down when I’m living off them, you know?”

“What don’t they like?”

“I expected it but… it’s awkward if I stay over at Hoseok’s. The first time it happened I let them know I was staying out and my mom basically didn’t talk to me the next day.”

“But… you used to live with a guy… I thought they were all progressive–”

“They are! I don’t think my mom was disgusted, I think she was just awkward. Like she felt like she ought to say I can’t do that but I’m a grown up. I mean, what’s the worst that happens, Hobi knocks me up and I get married? They love him, I don’t think they’d be mad about that,” Alex laughed. 

“Wow, really? Already?”

“Wait, I’m not saying that’ll happen! We’ve only been dating for like… coming up on six months soon, yikes. Anyway, it’s just that, it’s awkward. They don’t know how to ask if I’m going to be home or not and I try to be funny about ‘hey don’t wait up for me’ but then I’ll get text messages at midnight still asking when I’ll be home. And my mom doesn’t like how much time I spend sitting around watching TV.”

“What does she want you doing? It’s not like you aren’t doing anything. You have a good job and a good boyfriend.”

“I know!” Alex cried, throwing her hands up. “I wish you were my mom,” she joked.

“I don’t but thanks, I guess?”

“She thinks I’m getting too fat and she’s worried I don’t have any friends anymore because of breaking up with Jungkook.”

“Well that’s not true, you have me!”

“That’s what I said. You should come to dinner soon. Um… we’ll order food, our kitchen is definitely not kosher… but hey I think it would be great to introduce my parents to other food–”

Rebekah literally patted her head, “Thanks. I’d be happy to come visit and prove to your parents you aren’t a complete loner freak and that you’re actually a moderately capable adult.”

“Ugh.” 

“Speaking of which, are you ready for me to hold your hand while we talk to a scary employee about how to fix your phone? Do I need to be ready to cause a distraction in case we run into Jungkook? Both very mature fears, I assure you–”

“You’ve gotten so mean in five weeks,” Alex laughed. “Wasn’t one of those holidays about penance?” 

Rebekah laughed and nudged her into the Verizon store.

And honestly, Alex did not feel like a mature, capable adult. She was glad Rebekah was with her. The sight of smarmy dudes in denim button ups and black slacks made her instantly aware she had entered his territory, even though he’d still been wearing the polo and khakis when she moved out. Seasonal uniform change, maybe? Actually it was a little less douchey looking, but she avoided picturing him in it and he wouldn’t be here to give a visual anyway. He was still using the Google calendar, which was kind of soft to her even though it just meant he either hadn’t thought of making his own calendar or was too lazy, so she’d been able to confirm he wasn’t working today. Still, she glanced around every employee to make sure he wasn’t one of them.

She startled when a woman approached, nametag Geneva, and asked what she could help them with.

“I busted my phone so I need the screen fixed. Probably I need a whole new phone. And I need to roll off the family plan I’m on right now to my own.”

“Ok, we can definitely help you with all that! Nate… Yes, Nate will help you.”

Alex was handed off to this other guy who she was pretty sure was the stupid guy Jungkook had always complained about. She did not mention that. Instead she answered more questions like that she needed the cheapest good phone possible, that she needed the cheapest solo plan possible, and that the name on the account was Jungkook Jeon.

“Wait, wha?” Nate asked, eyes going wide.

“Yeah, I know he works here–”

“Well then why did you come in now? He’s not on right now, he could hook you up with all of this.”

Geneva had walked away but doubled back at Jungkook’s name and now Alex realized maybe she should have gone to literally any other Verizon store in the world. Why had she come here?! 

“Wait, you’re Jungkook’s roommate?” Geneva asked.

“Um… yeah, I was, but I’m living somewhere else now so I need to get off his family plan.”

Nate was typing into his little employee tablet thing and said, “Well… you’re due for an upgrade on the device, that’s the best deal you’ll get but that’s only if you extend the current plan.”

“I… no, I need to get onto my own plan.”

“Is he paying your phone bill now?” Geneva asked, head tilting. It was such a weird and personal question that Alex also tilted her head and found herself wondering if Jungkook had fucked this woman. Which annoyed her. Because how gross, to have her first thought be did Jungkook fuck this woman and that’s why she’s asking me this weird question because she developed some sort of an attachment to him even if they only had a fling and she wants to know what my business is with him? Or hey, for all she knew, Jungkook had done other shocking things since then and was dating this chick now!

Alex tried to sound like a competent adult and answered, “He is and he shouldn’t be since we live separately now. What’s the best deal I can get for rolling onto my own account?”

“Hm, well… there’s a…” Nate trailed off, scrolling through things. “There is a new account discount with a new device but the discount isn’t as big.”

“Isn’t that kind of weird? Why would I get a bigger discount for staying than as a new customer?”

“Because if we only gave good deals to new customers, people would just bounce,” Geneva pointed out. Was it snippy? It felt snippy to Alex. She looked around for confirmation from Rebekah, but her dear friend who was supposed to support her here had wandered over to watch parents wrangling a toddler throwing a tantrum outside the shop.

“Ok well will I get a better deal than this if I go over to T-mobile?”

“Doubtful and your service will suck,” Nate said. 

With a deep sigh because she knew he was right and it had been a reason she’d moved to Jungkook’s Verizon account in the first place, she said, “OK, whatever. Just give me the best deal you can. Make sure it’s something Jungkook would be ok with you doing to me.”

“Are you moving in with that new guy?” Nate asked. Alex laughed at the shock of the question, at first certain she’d misheard him.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to ask a customer about their private life and also what the hell was he telling you about it?!”

Apparently Nate thought they were buddies now though, because he grinned, “Yeah, I got to hear all about it.”

Geneva scowled at Nate, “Make sure you get the right permissions to make changes to the account though.” Then she walked off. Alex felt like she was missing half of the conversation but it didn’t matter. Probably the woman was in love with Jungkook; who wasn’t? She just needed her phone changed.

Nate nodded, “Yeah, if you want to keep your number I’ll need permission from the primary account holder. Looks like he didn’t give you permission to make changes to the account.”

“That ass,” she tried to joke. “It’s because he just dealt with all the phone stuff.”

“If you can answer security questions it might let me bypass, or we can just call him.”

“What are the security questions?” Alex sighed.

“Uh… where did you and your spouse first meet? He doesn’t have a spouse,” Nate snickered.

Alex ignored the painful cramp in her chest as she guessed, “Ashborne. With an ‘e’ on the end.”

“Uh… yep. Ok, now I need– do you know the pin he put on the account?”

Alex didn’t answer at first, hearing delayed as she tried to not shut down at what was stupid and casual and didn’t mean anything: Ashborne was their hometown. She was the fake spouse. It didn’t mean anything, it was just a joke; maybe they had even joked about it at the time. They made jokes like that sometimes, back in the day, that they were an old married couple. At some point it had stopped being funny, maybe once Alex got tired of being his wife only in jokes, never in any real way– Not that she wanted to be his wife! But the idea of her being his wife as the butt of a joke constantly just got old, especially when part of the joke was that obviously she wasn’t ever going to be his actual wife because she wasn’t romantic or sexual or whatever, she was just the one at home doing the cooking and cleaning while he ran around fucking mistresses or whatever.

But he’d set this phone account up longer ago than that. He’d been on his own plan since he turned eighteen because his parents didn’t want to pay for the data he needed for all the mobile gaming he used to do. How long ago had he set this security question? 

It didn’t matter. What it meant could be anything. He had claimed to be in love with her a month and a half ago so some random security question referencing a casual joke shouldn’t fluster her like this.

“I don’t know the pin,” she admitted. “So I guess um… what are my options? I just buy a new phone with a new number and he’ll have to close this one down?”

Nate waved her frustration off, because she didn’t want to change her number, “We can just call him and he can give me permission to free up the number and I can roll it over to the new account. Ok, do you know what phone you want? Let’s get that done first.”

He had to walk her through a bunch. Actually he was pretty nice about it considering she didn’t know anything about phones. He seemed to take it seriously that she was a friend of Jungkook’s and steered her away from unnecessary features. Jungkook had talked about this guy like he was a total idiot but he seemed nice to her. He even managed to find the teal blue version of the phone she wanted, the last one, in the back.

“Ok, why don’t you call him and he can just tell me the PIN and permission over the phone,” Nate suggested. “He has to release the number first and then I can set you up.”

“Uh…” Alex froze. Rebekah had wandered closer and she looked at Rebekah and asked, “Could you, um… call Jungkook?”

“Me?!”

“I can’t, my phone doesn’t work,” she pointed out, holding her hands up.

“You can call him on my phone,” Rebekah suggested.

“Wait, I don’t want to talk to–”

“I’m not explaining this to him,” Rebekah argued.

Nate looked between them and asked, “What’s uh… the problem? You can call him with our phone…”

“Why don’t you call him?” Alex suggested, smiling and resting her arms on the table, which was a little too low to do elegantly, even for her. “I don’t know all the things you’re needing so you can just ask him yourself.”

“Why, are you avoiding him or something?” Nate asked. With a neutral smile that was either totally fake or totally brainless. 

Alex’s eyes narrowed, “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. We don’t talk about customers, ma’am.”

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “What did he tell you?!”

But Nate had pulled up his own phone and held it to his ear and held a finger up that he was on a call. Surely Jungkook hadn’t told a random co-worker about the whole confession and space thing… surely he’d just said that Alex was moving out or something because she had her boyfriend? Nate said Jungkook had told him that, but surely not everything. Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things but… but maybe Nate wasn’t giving her a good deal! 

“Hey JK, listen, I’ve got a customer here who’s on your account and she’s wanting to roll over to her own but she doesn’t have permission to– yep. Yeah, her. How many ladies you got on your account, bro? I’m joking,” Nate grinned at her, “I see it’s only the two lines.”

Rebekah and Alex shared a look; Rebekah covered her mouth not to laugh and Alex glared at the traitor. 

Suddenly he hung up and said, “He said he’ll be right here.”

“Wait what?”

“Yeah apparently he’s on his way in–”

“He’s not supposed to be working today,” she said to Rebekah, grabbing her arm.

And her dear friend rolled her eyes, “Come on, be an adult.”

And that hurt! Because Alex was being an adult! She’d come here to do her own phone thing and figure that out, she just had hoped not to run into Jungkook because… for reasons…

He walked in right as she looked at the door, wearing a white t shirt tucked into the black slacks, his denim button up slung over his arm and a coffee in the other hand. First time Alex had seen him since she moved out. Same face, same hair, same big dark eyes, same nose, same familiar Jungkook who she’d seen most days of her life until five weeks ago. Six? Something?

Truth be told, which she would never admit, her stomach did a very painful twisty thing and her chest felt like it inflated and relief melted her and shock put her on edge and she just felt like that was maybe not a normal way to react to seeing your old friend again. Like that was not how she’d felt after seeing Rebekah again after a few years apart. That wasn’t how she’d felt seeing her parents when she’d come home from college the first time.

Honestly, the thing it felt closest to was the first time she’d seen Yoongi after they broke up. That same twist of pain and regret and anger and distress and impossible longing. For friendship! Friend longing!

“Hey,” he said, and the smile was in his eyes before it reached his mouth. “Heard you’re bailing on our family plan?”

“Trying to,” she forced out. 

“Uh… ok…” He pursed his lips and then admitted, “It’s going to be more expensive for each of us but I get it.”

“I know but I need a new phone.”

“What happened to it? It’s not that old.”

She gestured to it on the counter and explained, “Took a swim in milk and then I uh, kind of threw it on accident and the screen shattered and it smells real funky…”

“You’re up for a renewal and she could get a new one,” Nate tattled, “I told her it’s cheaper to stay than to go.”

Jungkook actually laughed, a sort of below the breath snort, and then greeted, “Hey Rebekah, should have known you were an accomplice.”

“What? Me?! I’m just here for moral support!”

“Oh, am I that scary?” he joked.

Alex intervened, “No, I just don’t know shit about phones, you always handled it.”

“Yeah. What are you getting?” He glanced at the box and seemed to deem it fine, then said, “I really don’t care if you stay on the plan and you can keep venmoing me money but I get it if you want to roll off. Up to you.”

“That’s weird though. If I stayed on.”

“It’s a $10 difference a month, it’s not a big deal either way,” Jungkook told her. “Hundred twenty bucks a year… renewing will save you like… does it work out to $200 savings on the new phone? Fifty buck difference to just getting your own plan.” Jungkook asked Nate, who looked impressed. Clearly Jungkook knew his shit at work. But obviously he did, Alex knew that, he was a really good employee.

“Ok but I still should do it.”

“Ok, that’s fine, I just wanted you to know if you want to save the money you don’t have to– You need me to release the number?” Jungkook asked Nate, not waiting for her to confirm it again. He recited a pin number for Nate –0901, which she should have been able to guess–, looked over Nate’s shoulder, then nodded.

“Ok I’ve got a bunch of questions I’ll need to ask you now,” Nate warned her. “And I’ll have to run a quick credit check and–”

“Wait, what? A credit check?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal, it won’t ding your credit or anything.”

“Ok…”

Jungkook patted Nate’s arm, “I’m going to clock in, I’ll be back in case you need anything else from me–”

“Wait a minute,” Alex said without thinking. Then, to cover that she didn’t know why she’d said that, she added, “Why are you even working today? I thought you, uh–”

“Ah, you checked so you could try to avoid me.”

“No! I… maybe…” His crooked grin was annoying. She worried she was hurting him by doing this even though it was the right thing to do. She worried he was hurt rather than understanding about her trying to avoid him. She worried she had lost some of her immunity to that smile; she felt a space between them that had never existed before and she didn’t like it, even though she knew it was right. 

“I just didn’t want you to be upset about the uh, phone thing…”

“Nah, it’s fine, I get it. Uh… how are you doing otherwise? Both of you?” he asked between the two of them.

Rebekah nodded and smiled, “Mm-hm! Great!”

“Yeah. Yeah, things are um, good. How are you doing?”

“Really good,” he told her, and smiled from the other side of the canyon. “Living with your parents going ok?”

“Yeah, mostly… I mean, you know, it’s kinda weird but kinda nice. I see your parents a lot.”

“Yeah, I know, more than I do,” he laughed. “They told me you’re a more dutiful son right now.”

“You don’t have to stay away from family dinners or anything.”

“Yeah, you either. Or friend gatherings or anything,” he insisted. “I hope you aren’t just to avoid me.”

“No, of course not,” she lied. “Things aren’t like that.”

“Yeah, I mean you can’t just give me everyone in the divorce, I did not agree to that.”

She laughed but hated the sound of it and stopped as she assured him, “Right, sorry, I’ll stop being such an absent parent. Support payments must not be clearing… I’ve just been busy, that’s all, we’ll be at a thing together again soon. I mean at the same time.”

“I knew what you meant,” he assured her. Nose scrunch. “I’ve gotta clock in, I’m covering for someone. Didn’t put it on the calendar since I didn’t realize you were still checking–”

“No, I’m really not, I just–”

“It’s cool. I get it. It’s not like I go to your coffee shop either. K, I gotta go. Nate, hook her up or I’m stealing your customers.”

“I am!” Nate complained. “You’re the one keeping me from getting her account set up right now.” 

“Good to see you!” Jungkook called over his shoulder with a weird sort of over-the-shoulder salute, thumb and first two fingers extended, something between a wave and a peace sign and a thumb’s up. She’d seen him do that before. A casual goodbye to guy friends, that was how he used that. 

Fuck she sighed under her breath and turned her full attention to Nate so they could wrap up.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Rebekah said and abandoned her. 

Alex felt like she might shit her pants for the rest of the appointment that now felt like it was taking a thousand years. Jungkook’s shift started while she was still stuck there, which meant she could hear his voice and sense his presence as he greeted a young couple and worked with them at a nearby counter. He sounded so professional, so charming in a non-skeevy way. She’d never actually just heard him working before and wondered if he was laying it on thick because she was there, and realized he probably was not and did not care that she was there. From what she could see, the whole thing was behind him. He was so unbothered, he didn’t mind if she stayed on his phone plan. If he loved her, wouldn’t that be excruciating?

She lit out of there without even a wave as soon as her new phone was set up, and was just about to call Rebekah and demand evacuation rescue when her friend sidled up to her again and handed her a soft pretzel.

“They aren’t kosher!” Alex gasped and Rebekah assured her, “I just wanted a coke, thought you could use a snack.”

“Thank you, I forgive you for abandoning me.”

“Abandoning you! I thought you were doing fine! Nate had you taken care of, Jungkook made sure of it. New phone all set?”

Alex started to walk so no one in Verizon store could watch the way she was about to deep throat this pretzel. No cheese but that was fine, cheese would slow her down. 

“Yes and I survived talking to Jungkook.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“No, I know,” Alex said, instantly flushed at feeling like Rebekah was saying she was dramatic and stupid. “I just meant… it’s kind of awkward and I hadn’t seen him in a long time, that’s all. Since…”

“I don’t think you need to feel awkward about anything,” Rebekah assured her.

“I just feel bad, you know?” 

“Because he told you he was in love with you and you don’t feel the same?” Rebekah bluntly demanded. Alex had not directly said that to anyone but apparently Jungkook had blabbed some details about it at the birthday party while drunk. According to Minxi, the common knowledge was that he had admitted he thought he had feelings for Alex but she wasn’t interested and didn't feel comfortable living with him anymore so she moved out. Which was harsh, but mostly true… just like it was kind of true what Jungkook had said, that maybe she was avoiding more than just him. She just felt like some of them were more Jungkook’s friends than hers, or that they wouldn’t understand why she didn’t just ditch the outsider and give a relationship with Jungkook a shot. Would they? She was afraid to ask. But she’d always felt like they doted on him, like he was their baby brother, like he could get away with murder, and now she was someone not giving him what he allegedly wanted. She’d rather not set herself up to get kicked out.

“Yeah….”

“I don’t think you need to feel bad about that, you should just make sure you aren’t making a bigger deal out of it than you need to.”

“You mean– what do you mean?” Alex asked skeptically and then shoved pretzel into her mouth.

“I mean ok you moved out, that’s fine, if you weren’t comfortable. But if you’re avoiding everyone–”

“I’m not,” she lied, mouth full of lying pretzel.

“Ok, well don’t. Especially since…”

Alex choked the bite down and asked, “Especially since what?”

“I don’t know… ok I didn’t know whether I should say anything because I don’t know if it’s true but I don’t know if I’m a better friend to tell you or not to tell you… but since you aren’t in love with him back, maybe I should tell you because maybe it’ll help you not feel bad and–”

“Uh you definitely have to tell me whatever you’re now being incredibly cryptic about,” Alex interjected. She felt the pretzel rising back up her throat. “What are you talking about right now?”

“It’s not something I know for sure so I don’t want to gossip but I especially don’t want to hurt you…”

“You’re not, but it’s a bad friend thing to keep secrets–”

“Ok…” 

Alex grabbed her arm and plopped down on a mall bench and stared into her soul while chewing furiously on the pretzel. “You got gossip? I love gossip. Lay it on me,” she said, hoping casual would do the trick.

“I just think… he might be dating someone…”

Alex was pretty sure the next three seconds were an out of body experience.

“Oh?” she asked with a voice that was not hers. “Why do you think that? He’s bringing someone around? Like just a new roommate or–”

“Well, you know he’s living with Namjoon now and–”

“Wait, what?! He moved out of the apartment?!”

“Um…”

“Sorry, sorry go on,” Alex insisted. It was shocking that her plan to cut herself out of the loop and disengage with information her friends might share meant she was out of the loop and unaware of the information her friends might have shared. 

“Yeah he moved in with Namjoon a few weeks ago. He was introducing this woman around at your joint birthday party, the one you missed, but I didn’t know if they came together, but then I definitely saw them leave together and also– well he might have left with two girls? But he was really drunk, I don’t know… Anyway, I guess he’s hanging out with this one girl a lot though and it just was interesting to me because usually he doesn’t hang out with the same woman right? I wasn’t at Namjoon’s party so I don’t know if he brought her to that. I noticed you didn’t go–.”

“Two women!?”

“Ok I don’t know if he took two home, maybe they were just helping him walk? I wouldn’t have thought about it except that he’s still hanging out with one of them… I don’t know! You would know better, if he’s the kind of guy who would do something like that…”

“How do you know they’ve been hanging out?” Alex asked before she could decide the question sounded too nosy. Two girls?! No. No way. Jungkook hadn’t ever had a threesome though he’d made plenty of longing comments about it so if he did for his birthday, like, good for him, but it shouldn’t happen while he was super drunk, that was shady. Oh god that made her feel kind of sick to her stomach… no, that hadn’t happened, she decided. Women were always handsy with him, it didn’t mean he’d fucked two women at the same time in their apartment right after.

God, if two women were willing to fuck Jungkook in a threesome, there was no way in hell he’d turn that down. It may have happened. He may have been having a threesome while she was sick at home, feeling sorry for herself.

“Uh well he’s been on her instagram a few times –please don’t ask me how I know that,” Rebekah flinched.  

“Oh my god you’re such a busybody!” Alex gasped as if she wasn’t fighting the urge to whip out her phone and redownload the app right now. Her voice was too loud. Oops.  

“I know,” Rebekah wailed. “I want to say I’m just a good friend but also he’s hot and I just spend a lot of time on instagram, ok? I know he fucks around and leaving with someone from the birthday party if he’s heartbroken over you, that makes sense to me. She may just be a rebound… I thought the way he was introducing her was weirder than him leaving with her but I don’t know, maybe it was nothing! They could just be friends!”

Rebekah was watching her with transparent concern.

Alex laughed. And rolled her eyes. And swallowed the last bite of her pretzel and insisted,

“Come on, don’t be all weird and worried. I told you a thousand times, I have no romantic feelings for him. If he’s seeing someone that is shocking because this is Jungkook but… great! That’s great! Good for– If he’s seeing someone– maybe he was just finally ready to start settling down I guess!”

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. Is it right that I told you that?” 

Alex nodded, “Yes, thank you. It does make me feel better. Maybe his feelings for me weren’t even that serious– what did you say the woman’s name is? Someone I know?”

“Anita? Do you–”

“Ah! Anita. Yes.”

“Yes?”

“We had a double date together to the arcade–”

“Oh! I didn’t realize that was the same– oh. Ok. Maybe they are then…”

“Yeah, maybe they are,” Alex agreed. “That’s great.”

So great. Really great. Really fucking great for Jungkook to already be over her. Already replaced. No wonder he could be so magnanimous about the phone thing. Maybe he had a new girlfriend.  

That was great!

“Thanks for telling me, Bek. And thanks for coming. And thanks for watching out for me. Sounds like I can stop beating myself up about breaking his heart,” Alex said. “I’ll venmo you for the pretzel.”

“Now I feel like I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“What?! Why? I’m glad you did! I deleted instagram from my phone so I wouldn’t even know and no one says anything to me. I wish you’d told me earlier!”

“Ok. Ok good then, I’m glad I told you if you’re glad! Do you have to go home right away or can we wander over to Primark?”

“Yeah, let’s shop,” Alex agreed even though she really just wanted to go home and think about this and instagram stalk.

Jungkook dating?

No way.

But yes way? Anita was nice. She’d handled his tantrum on the arcade date well. If he was going to date someone, Alex could maybe almost give approval for her…

But really? Didn’t this mean he hadn’t really loved her? You didn’t just–

Unless you were rebounding–

She was thinking about this too much. It didn’t matter. She’d made her choice! That was great for him! He could do whatever he wanted –dating, threesomes, orgies, whatever!

And Alex could pretend to be really glad to hear this!

Jungkook fidgeted with the rings on his fingers and checked his watch again. Anita was supposed to have met him here fifteen minutes ago and now wasn’t answering her phone. He hated that. Yes, he did that sometimes, but he disliked it in other people. Almost as much as he disliked being called, which was the next thing she did.

“Yello?”

“Hey I’m running late–”

“No shit.”

“I’ll be there soon, you can go in and have a drink, I’ll meet you inside.”

“If I go in here alone I might get mobbed.”

“Great, you’ll enjoy the attention.”

“Not the kind of attention I’m looking for,” he grumbled, annoyed that she was right, he would be flattered. He pocketed his phone and decided to head inside, noting the rainbow glow of the sign on his shirt as he showed the doorman his ID and passed through. The bright colors just made him feel already tired, like he was stepping into a rave past his bedtime. 

To be clear, Jungkook was perfectly fine in a gay bar. He didn’t frequent them often, but he’d been before, no big deal. And literally no one had hit on him, which he suspected would be the case this time as well. Sure, he didn’t really feel like talking to anyone right now or declining attention, but he also wasn’t feeling up to the blow to his ego of being completely ignored. It still hadn’t recovered from losing out Employee of the month to fucking Nate. What the fuck happened there?!

He tried to look unavailable as he went to the bar and ordered a drink so at least he wouldn’t be empty handed. The place was sort of embarrassingly quiet on a Tuesday night; the Halloween decorations strung around the place looked tacky with only half a dozen well-behaved people circling around high tops. The music felt too quiet for a bar but louder would have been annoying. 

Ok, Jungkook was just cranky lately. He’d try to not subject Anita to that. He settled in at a stool on the end of the bar and pulled out his phone to look for something to amuse himself. Cats weren’t doing it for him but some parrots screaming into bowls and cups were good even though he couldn’t really hear the audio over the music.

Hairs on the back of his neck prickled as if someone was watching him and he felt the heaviness of someone drawing close. Assuming it was Anita finally here, he looked up to tease her, but it wasn’t her so he looked back down.

And then looked back.

And then, “Uh… May?”

“Oh my god.”

“You–”

“Hey tian xin,” Minxi sidled up to May with a drink extended and then actually yelped at the sight of Jungkook.

“Holy shit!” Jungkook gasped.

“Holy shit you!” May cried. “Are you–”

“No wait are you– are you two dating?!” he gestured rapidly between them even though obviously they were because there was definitely something in Minxi’s voice when she’d said whatever that was in Chinese and–

“Are you gay?!” May shrieked. “What are you doing in a gay bar?!”

“You’re gay,” Jungkook said, wide eyed. Then, “Holy shit, nobody knows. Does Alex know?”

“No she doesn’t know!” May hissed as Minxi shirked her shoulders and grimaced at Jungkook, looking like she’d pay good money to be literally anywhere but here.

“And dating her friend?!”

“Well does she know you’re–”

“Hey sorry I’m so fucking late,” Anita gasped, stumbling directly into the little scene and then stopping short. “Oh, um.”

“Ok I am so fucking confused. Is this your girlfriend? Are you gay? What the fuck is going on?” May demanded.

“Yeah, Minxi, May, I could say the same fucking thing–”

“Oh boy what did I just walk into,” Anita mumbled and took a dramatic step backwards.

“Why don’t we uh… go to a table,” Minxi suggested. When nobody moved, she just turned and walked away. May and Jungkook stared at each other a moment longer, then Jungkook followed, grabbing Anita’s arm and dragging her along. 

“Wait, let me get a drink!”

“There’s table service,” May called over her shoulder.

“Oh, really? I’ve never been here before…”

At the table, May whipped around with the same interrogative energy her sister so easily displayed and demanded, “Explain yourself.”

“Well that’s just not something you can demand–”

“Wait, is the whole fuckboy thing a lie? Or you’re bi–”

“I’m not bi,” Jungkook sighed, “Just… straight. Which I feel really awkward admitting right now in a gay bar… thanks for outing me…”

“So you are dating though,” Minxi said, gesturing between him and Anita.

Immediately Jungkook frowned, “Who says we’re dating?”

“Uh… it’s what everyone thinks?” Minxi answered. She seemed started by Jungkook’s response.

“Who thinks that? Alex thinks that?” He was already sweating but felt a shade of cold added to it. “Why? Who said that?”

“So you’re not dating?” May clarified.

“No, we aren’t dating.”

“I mean we fucked for a while,” Anita helpfully offered. “But I think I might be a lesbian? Or bi? I don’t really know…”

“Oh! Welcome,” Minxi grinned.

“Welcome to… being gay?” Jungkook repeated, head spinning, just confused. “Ok, but wait… fuck, I have so many questions right now.”

May sighed and set her drink down. She closed her eyes, then slowly opened them while Minxi just looked at her with concern. Her hand was on May’s lower back.

“I know what you are,” he mumbled under his breath, memes always on hand at a moment like this.

“Yeah,” May said. “I’m a lesbian. That’s my secret, there you go.”

“But…” He trailed off. “But the banker dude you were dating…”

“Uh, I do social media for a bank,” Minxi said with a laugh.

“Yeah, ok, I haven’t felt comfortable yet coming out to my family,” May admitted. “But I needed my mom to stop trying to introduce me to guys or thinking I couldn’t meet someone on my own, so…”

“But they won’t care,” Jungkook said. “Do you think they will? They’ve never seemed…” He trailed off, realizing maybe he didn’t really know about their parents. Sometimes parents could seem perfectly open-minded and supportive as long as it wasn’t their own child pushing the envelope. “Alex and Edgar won’t care. You think your parents will?”

“I don’t know! They’re not crazy strict but they have an idea about how our lives will go and this was never part of that so… I don’t know. And now you know so I guess it’s time to–”

“Woah,” Jungkook cut her off, “I don’t matter. I’m not saying a word to anyone, that’s your business to share.”

“Even Alex?”

Jungkook made a face and lifted his beer before muttering, “Well, you must be out of the loop…”

“Obviously I’m not, she’s living with my parents again, moping around like a teenager that got dumped even though she’s got a perfectly good boyfriend who’s obsessed with her for some reason I sure can’t figure out.”

Jungkook’s teeth clicked as he bit down on the bottle. It was a stupid thing to do, he hadn’t meant to do that. It was an automatic dumb thing his brain did at this unexpected information chucked at him in the void of any other knowledge. He had no fucking clue how Alex was doing. She’d said she was doing great at the phone store so why wouldn’t he believe her? She’d gotten everything she wanted.

“She um… she’s not doing ok?”

“Would you be if you moved back home?”

“Oh, yeah, right. Right, that’s what you meant…”

“Why, what did you think I meant?” May asked with obvious glee. Only then did Jungkook realize that even May must know about his confession –and that it wasn’t even because Alex had told her, it had probably been Minxi. Her secret girlfriend.

“Let’s talk about how you’re dating Alex’s sister and didn’t tell anyone,” he shifted and pointed at Minxi. “For how long?”

“About six months,” Minxi mumbled into her drink. “But hey, I couldn’t say anything without outing May!”

“We didn’t even know you’re a lesbian. Does Alex know?”

“Look, let’s just all take a moment and embrace the fact that Alex never knows shit about anything,” May insisted. “She didn’t know we’re gay and dating. She didn’t know you’re in love with her. She sure as fuck doesn’t know she’s in love with you. The only thing she does know–”

“Wait what did you say–”

“--is that you two are dating? She might think that? Couldn’t say, Minxi’s the one who told me that gossip but Alex has been extra prickly lately so. Dunno.”

“Yeah, who started the rumor I have a girlfriend? What, days after I confessed to Alex?!” Jungkook asked, but Minxi shrugged. He didn’t think she was the likely source anyway. He tried to think through each friend… but it was so absurd, he couldn’t figure out who would make that assumption and not just ask him about it.

“Could she be fighting with Hoseok? Is that why she’s mopey?” Anita asked, leaning forward on the table with enough interest you would think she was already intimately connected to the friend group. In several ways she was, though not the way Jungkook was now being accused of.

“Ok ok we don’t know, no one here knows, that’s Alex’s business,” Jungkook interrupted before Minxi or May could say anything. Because suddenly this was too much, what May was dumping on the table in front of him. And she had no proof. May had always been kind of a bitch who liked to stir up trouble for Alex, so for all he knew, she was just saying these things to be a bitch. She might take a little too much joy in her sister’s suffering right now but there was no actual reason to believe that suffering was anything more than a sadness at the loss of his friendship. Or like a normal not-relationship-ending fight with her boyfriend. Or a bad day at work.

Besides, she’s said something else much more important, so he scratched his neck and asked casually, “Why um… but why did you say that thing about…”

May sighed and rolled her eyes, “Just ask the question. This is a safe space.”

She could say that, but May wasn’t safe the way Alex was. She’d say whatever she wanted even if it hurt. Maybe that part had been made up to, just to stir up shit. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of her. She’d use it against him, she’d never let it go, she’d–

She kept glancing at Minxi, and clicking her nails on her glass, and her leg bouncing was what kept shaking the table. Suddenly he felt like she was offering him information as a trade, which he didn’t like at all. Did she think she could trade Alex’s personal business for a promise Jungkook would keep his mouth closed? Well that sucked in both directions if so. It wasn’t necessary at all. He’d never betray someone’s privacy like that, ever.

He decided to reiterate, “I meant what I said. I’m not going to tell anyone you’re gay or that you’re dating Minxi. I don’t think anyone will care but that’s your private business– ohhh wait, that’s why you went to the Kings of Leon concert with us! I wondered why you came. Damn, no one thought anything about that. You really kept your secret right under our noses.”

“Yeah, I’m good at that and you’re oblivious,” May snapped.

“Ha. Well. You got me there…”

He shared a look with Anita and sipped his beer. Damn Alex was so much cooler than her sister.

“Well,” Anita tried, “I just think if I could make it to twenty-nine and not realize I like fucking women, then I can understand why it would take someone a while to realize they’re in love with their best friend.”

Minxi eagerly nodded, “Yeah, I understand it too. I mean we aren’t that different, I’ve known May for a long time through Alex–”

“Yeah but you kind of always wanted to fuck me,” May grinned at her. It was truly wild to hear her talk like that and to Minxi! Jungkook desperately wanted Alex here seeing this. Thank fuck he didn’t live with her actually because he obviously couldn’t reveal May’s secret but this was quite a thing to have to keep secret from his (previously) best friend. Easy peasy when she wasn’t talking to him anyway.

“I did,” Minxi admitted. Then huffed and elbowed her. “Stop it, don’t embarrass me… and don’t think that’s the only reason I was friends with Alex because it’s not,” she quickly added, pointing at Jungkook. He held his hand up and made a face, gesturing he did not accuse her of that.

Anita was clearly glad to turn the conversation more towards her own reason for being here though and mused, “I always thought I’d be down, but I just thought I was just curious… isn’t everyone curious what it’s like to have sex with women? And I’ve had fun sex with men so…”

Minxi’s smile was so wise and sisterly as she encouraged, “You don’t have to choose, you know.” Jungkook felt like he was definitely seeing a new side to her. He’d always just thought of her as Alex’s nice but kind of quiet, nerdy friend.

“Yeah… I don’t really know where I am for real but I am definitely not straight. Right?” She glanced at Jungkook for confirmation.

Jungkook snickered, “That’s not my decision!” Good. This was good. Go along with the detour and then steer it back and it would keep him from looking too desperate to figure out if May was talking shit or if she knew something.

“I had sex with a woman,” she explained suddenly to May and Minxi. Her new lesbian friends. Jungkook began to wonder if maybe he was no longer needed here but he stayed anyway because fuck if he was leaving without finding out what May had meant. 

“And you liked it?” May guessed. “There’s not a test you have to pass. If you think you’re gay, you’re gay, congrats.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I think? I don’t know, maybe it’s just her… I thought maybe if I met another woman I like, it would help me understand myself more and whether it’s just that woman or all women or what. I don’t think it’s that woman though. I mean, she was great but I don’t really want to date her…”

“That’s why you two are here on a Tuesday night? You’re wingmanning for her?” May laughed.

“Yeah. Believe it or not I am a great ally.”

“Yeah, yeah, I believe it actually,” May waved her hand at him. 

“We thought it might be too busy and stressful on the weekend,” Anita admitted, but looked shy about it now. “Like maybe on a Tuesday night, I could meet someone more, um, serious or something? I don’t know…”

“Well Anita who I don’t know, you want some sage lesbian advice from the girl who’s too chicken to come out to her own family?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t worry about whether it’s one woman or lots of women or what. It doesn’t matter. Once you know you want someone, just shoot your shot and see where it gets you. For instance, don’t wait until she’s in love with your replacement before you–”

“Ok ok,” Jungkook sighed, and leaned away and motioned towards himself, “Fine. Let’s have it.”

“Did you really really really tell my sister you’re in love with her?” May demanded. “LIke that’s not just a rumor, that’s actually a thing that happened that apparently exploded your entire friend group.”

Jungkook let out a deep sigh and then admitted for a laugh, “I drunkenly kissed her first and then I said it. And then I said it again and we had a fight about it. And then I said it again but real mature, and she moved out the next day.”

“Fuck,” May laughed. “That is the saddest and funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well…” He laughed too. He wanted to laugh about it. That made it feel a little less raw. 

“And you meant it?”

The question brought him up short. His brow scrunched together, whole face briefly serious as he insisted to May, “Yeah, I meant it. Why would I say it if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know–”

“Why would I do something that made my best friend cry her eyeballs out, move out of our home, cut me completely out of her life–”

“Ok ok geez, I get it. Well what took you so long to figure it out? Because honestly you guys have been disgustingly obvious–”

“We haven’t been though,” he argued. “We were just easy with each other. It was always so easy, I just didn’t question it, and it’s not like she was flirting with intentions or anything–”

May growled low in her throat, “I’ve never been a very good sister so I’ll just be a shitty one now too and say it: if you really couldn’t tell she’s been in love with you since like forever, you’re literally the dumbest person I have ever met in my life.”

“I…” He didn’t know what to say to that. Hope and doubt warred in his chest. He couldn't trust anyone saying anything with such confidence when Alex herself had told him the opposite, and yet her own sister said it so confidently! But Alex didn’t know May was gay (haha, it rhymed!) so how could May possibly have any real insight into feelings that Alex herself may or may not have, may or may not realize, may or may not want to admit, and definitely didn’t want to act on.

“Wow,” May mused. “You’re really that dumb. I can see every thought on your face–”

“How can you know that? You two aren’t exactly close.”

“I’m just telling you what I see.”

“Well she said the opposite pretty clearly.”

“I’ll be honest,” Anita butted in, “if I’d been in love with you for years and had to watch you move through women like water and not even consider me, I’d hate you too–”

“But it wasn’t about not considering her! It was just that she was… not like that… untouchable–”

“Fuck,” all three women said at the same time.

“NO not like that! Not interested, not available, not– just too good for someone like me and–”

“Calm down, will you? You’re shouting. We only do that on Wednesdays and Fridays in here.”

But Jungkook’s head was spinning because honestly that was even worse than believing she just didn’t return his feelings. Not that it was the first time someone had suggested it but Alex had always so loudly, vocally shut it down, and he’d believed her. Now, May speaking so confidently terrified him, because what if it was true? What if Alex didn’t hate him because he’d confessed feelings and been all clingy once she had a boyfriend, but because she’d actually always wanted to be that woman for him and he’d–

Fuck. He’d fucked around for years. He’d made no secret of how often he slept with women. He’d flaunted it. It was a point of pride for him, a running joke with their friends. He’d told Alex shit about it all the time to make her laugh because she was so unbothered by it but what if she wasn’t so unbothered by it and instead she was dying inside the way he’d died inside every time she told him about Hoseok?!

Jungkook groaned and slumped forward on the table, pressing his face right down on the sticky top. He deserved it. The brief flicker of hope May had given him fizzled out into abject despair. That was worse. The thought he might have been hurting Alex for years was worse than anything.

“She never cared,” he mumbled into his elbow. Then before anyone could say anything, he beat them to it, “I’m the biggest idiot who ever lived.”

“Yeah pretty much–”

“May,” Minxi scolded. “Come on, you’re being too mean.”

“He’s the one who said it!”

“You’re not the biggest idiot,” Minxi argued. “Just a medium idiot. I don’t know if May’s right but I wouldn’t be surprised either. You two were always something special and it was really sweet but it did seem like she had started to resent your behavior more. But no one could say anything about it either, she was so protective of you and your lifestyle and everything, like you could do no wrong. I was glad when she met Hoseok because she seems so happy with him.”

“Oh yeah, Minx, that was way better,” May laughed. 

Jungkook sat up with a sigh. Looking back, he couldn’t pinpoint times, but yeah, Minxi might be right about that too. Not that he and Alex fought a lot but it seemed like they argued more –like about the wedding.

“It’s ok,” Jungkook assured her. “I get it. I fucked up.”

“Ok then my last question is, what are you doing about it? Why did you give up so easily?”

“Because I was being an asshole,” he immediately answered. “I wanted her to break up with Hoseok but –yeah, it was a bad look. I didn’t give up, but I told her how I feel and now I’m giving her the space she wants. She knows where to find me if she changes her mind.”

“Good boy,” Anita smiled and patted his hand. He rolled his eyes.

“Ok well I can’t argue with Minxi, she does seem pretty happy with Hoseok and you were an idiot, but I think you’ve proven by now that making her jealous doesn’t motivate her so if that’s what you were trying to do with people thinking you’re dating–”

“That’s not it,” Jungkook insisted. “I’m not playing a game. I don’t know why anyone thinks I’m suddenly dating. I can have a friend I don’t want to date!”

“Like Alex?” Anita suggested, then covered her mouth and laughed, “Sorry! It was too perfect not to say.”

“Shut up…”

“I’m not saying hound her. I don’t know why my sister does the things she does or makes the choices she makes, maybe she’s made her choice and she’s happy with it,” May admitted, with a shrug. “She’s always been weird, I don’t know. I just mean, she’s really stubborn and you put her in a bad situation to have to change her mind, so just make it easy. I don’t know, she’s grumpy this week, maybe just send her a nice no-pressure thing to remind her you exist…”

“Is she fighting with Hoseok?” Jungkook asked, trying not to sound eager.

“Ok I really don’t know. You are the person she talked to most about anything going on in her life. Who’s replaced you? I don’t think anyone has,” May admitted. “Hoseok? I don’t know. I don’t know what to make of that guy. He’s nice but…”

“Ooh are you going to trash talk the boyfriend?” Anita gasped.

“No, don’t do that,” Jungkook insisted. “I don’t want to hear it. Forget I asked.”

“All right.”

They sipped drinks for a minute. Jungkook’s mind was humming but also completely tripped up. Don’t harass her but make it easy on her… to change her mind? To choose him instead of Hoseok? That’s what he was trying to do, but she was avoiding him! The only time he’d seen her at all was when he just happened to be at the phone store –granted, he was avoiding any friend gathering she might go to after she missed the birthday party because he didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t go. But there hadn’t been much. 

Ok. He’d think about this… once he was past the shock of it. Of May saying Alex might have been in love with him while he just brutalized her heart basically –not about May being gay and dating Minxi, he was already over that, that was so much less important. 

May laughed again and shook her head, “Can’t believe you’re just dumb… gay would have been a better explanation.”

“Ok, May, thanks.”

“Look everyone else might be dancing around this whole thing but I’ll always give it to you straight.”

“Speaking of giving it–”

“Don’t make a crude joke–”

“I think you should give your sister a chance,” Jungkook suggested. “Even if you aren’t ready to be totally out, you know she’ll love and support you, yeah? And she’s good to have in your corner, if you’re really worried about your parents.”

“Yeah. She is. I know.”

“That was unusually nice for you to admit–”

Minxi interrupted, “Ok Anita, it's your turn, let’s hear what’s going on with you and this woman who opened your eyes. She was really that good?”

“Ok she’s not that good,” Jungkook snorted.

“You already knew you were straight so how do you know?”

“Ok ok sorry, carry on.”

“Wait, you fucked this woman too?” May asked, suddenly looking more interested. “Minxi, did you fuck her?! Who owns this magical pussy?”

Minxi just closed her eyes and shook her head which Jungkook thought summed up this Tuesday night very well.

In a pure coincidence, Alex had already heard the news, because she followed a link to a funny tweet from a Buzzfeed article and it refreshed her Twitter feed that she didn’t check ever anymore and one of the top Tweets in her timeline was from the arcade with the big announcement: We will be closing our doors on November 5. Come redeem your tickets while you can!

It was like a lightning bolt to the face from the gods. She was struck dumb by this tweet and the combined knowledge that Jungkook had tickets to spend, that he wouldn’t have enough to get the prizes he wanted because they’d stopped going to the arcade, that he had bought a dog and then she’d promptly friend-dumped him, and that after November 5th the opportunity to ever reconcile and finish earning those tickets together and buy the Slushee machine for their shared apartment would be truly and completely lost forever. This felt decidedly more final than the fact that neither of them lived in that apartment anymore. For all she knew, he’d junked the dog. 

The tweet left her immobilized in bed for some time. Should she text him? Should she let it go? Maybe he hadn’t seen. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe the arcade wasn’t anything important to him now. If he was dating Anita, maybe he didn’t even play games– ok, no, he definitely still played games. She could see him dating Anita and living life without Alex but video games were in his deep heart, he’d never give those up completely. But it didn’t mean he cared about the arcade. Or maybe he just didn’t know. Maybe she’d text him about it and he’d be like yeah we should go and say goodbye. But was that bad? 

Alex sat up in bed. Should they do that? Go say goodbye to the arcade? No, because it was an important thing about their friendship but yes, too, right? She didn’t hate Jungkook. He didn’t hate her. Their friendship was a precious thing to her and this was the death of a mutual friend and they should be able to bid that friend farewell without it being an issue. She’d just text him. She’d see what he said and if he didn’t care maybe she’d still just, like, drive by on her own or something and wave at the building.

Oh god that was so sad. It was so sad that the arcade was closing. Even though she hadn’t been in months now, that was so fucking sad for it to be done.

She pressed her phone to her mouth and debated. What if Jungkook read into it too much? How could she say they should say farewell without making it sound like she was looking for something more? Or what if he wanted to bring Anita? She’d be hurt. She wasn’t going to bring Hoseok. Wait, should she take Hoseok? Double date repeat?

Her phone buzzed against her mouth.

[JK]: hey arcade is closing down on the 5th

He beat her to it! Alex’s heart leapt into her throat as she jerked backwards against the pillows and texted back, thumbs tapping furiously against her phone.

[Alex]: I just saw the news!! How sad!!!

[Alex]: guess they couldn’t stay afloat when hot girl [me] stopped going

[JK]: the fact you clarified 

[JK]: you barely spent any money there

[JK]: I was funding that place!

[Alex]: hope you can live with the blood on your hands

As soon as she sent it, she realized the fucked up implications though. He stopped going because she left. It wasn’t really his fault, it was hers, and the fact he hadn’t simply been taking Anita or some other girl instead of her barely soothed the awkward thing she’d just poked her finger in.

[JK]: actually I want to return to the scene of the crime one last time and get my fucking slushee machine

[Alex]: 😱

[Alex]: do you even have enough tickets? Sure Namjoon is stoked for a slushee machine

Ok. Ok fine she was fishing. A nauseating fear seized her chest as she found herself deadlocked. She should ask. She should be the one to suggest it. But suggesting it… was it a bad idea? How would she explain to Hoseok that actually she was going to go hang out with Jungkook after all… just this one time… 

[JK]: I’m close on tickets

[JK]: I’m going there that night to earn the rest and get it 

Oh my god just ask me… should I ask?... I should just ask it’s not a big deal…

[JK]: let me know if you want to meet up for one last arcade night 

[JK]: if not it’s cool maybe I’ll still let you have a slushee next time you’re at Namjoon’s

[Alex]: Namjoon’s? Isn’t it your place too now that you live there?

[Alex]: but yeah, ok I’ll go

He put a thumbs up on her message but didn’t respond, which was fine with her because her heart was hammering in her chest like she was doing something wrong. But she wasn’t! This was a unique thing! Going to play games with him and say goodbye to the arcade would just be a temporary break in the space, like a truce between warring mob families because the pizza place they both loved and warred over burned to the ground. 

Oh god, she couldn’t make it make sense. She had to just lay there in bed and breathe for a moment because a weird clashing of excitement and terror seized her. And it made no sense! It was just going to the arcade with Jungkook! Her friend of forever! The guy she’d practically pissed herself over running into at the mall and now she was already figuring out what to wear that would make her look happy and cool but not too cool that he’d think she changed into a different person or had thought too much about what to wear.

Ok. No, this was fine. It was normal to be relieved and happy to get to hang out with a friend you’d had a major falling out with but hoped to have a low key friendship again with someday! And she had loved going to the arcade with him so it would be fun. And maybe once they could re-establish contact, she wouldn’t have to miss him so damn much, because she could just check in when she needed to. It was cool. Everything was cool.

Everything was not cool. Alex stood by the counter, arms crossed, simmering with annoyance as Hoseok stood by the oven, looking exactly the same.

“I told you about this party weeks ago,” Hoseok argued. 

“But you didn’t tell me what day it was,” Alex argued. 

“I did, I told you the fifth and you said you’d go–”

“No, you just said in November,” Alex insisted. “And I do want to go with you but I didn’t know it was that day and I have other plans now– you have to tell me the date and then I put it on my calendar immediately.”

But he hadn’t told her the date, she was so sure. Like 95% sure! She would have put it on her calendar. She did remember him telling her about the housewarming party in general –for a college friend of his who was moving to the area, but not quite this area, about an hour away. They’d bought a whole farmhouse or something because that’s what you could do when you inherited money. 

But he hadn’t told her the date and so the only thing she had planned for the fifth was the last night of the arcade with Jungkook. But now, three days out, Hoseok had mentioned he bought wine and flowers for them to take, and she had asked “to what?” and now they were all tangled up.

“I did tell you.”

“You didn’t! But– ok but whether you did or didn’t, I still have these other plans that night.” She presented that in the futile hopes he’d just be like ah ok yes I understand, we shall convene another night!

Instead he asked the question she had hoped to gracefully avoid, “What other plans? Can you move them?”

“No, it has to be that night, I don’t control it–”

“Ok but… Alex, this is really important to me. What’s this other thing that’s so much more important?”

“I know you want me there but what���s so important about your thing?” she demanded. “It’s just a housewarming, right? You can go without me and I’ll meet your friends another time!”

“But you told me you’d go!” Hoseok frowned. “I told them you’d go. It’s all my friends from college in one place, that never happens.”

“I get it but it’s just a party.”

“But it’s important to me and you told me you’d go and you won’t even tell me this other thing that’s more important to you.”

Well shit. She definitely couldn’t tell him now that this other thing was going to the arcade for an evening with Jungkook. Not only would it reveal she’d planned this without telling him (she shouldn’t have to! …right?) but also that she was avoiding telling him and that it was more important to her than meeting his college friends.

It just was! She shouldn’t have to explain that. The arcade had been a really constant fun part of her friendship and it was going away and sure maybe they could go on the 4th or the 3rd or something but Jungkook had asked her to go on the 5th. It was the last night. It was meaningful! It was important to her! 

“Well?” he demanded. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s a family thing…”

“A family thing?”

“Yeah like a private thing to honor the anniversary of my grandmother dying…”

Oh shit. She was going to hell. But the lie slid off her tongue without anything to grab onto to hold it back.

“So I can’t move it.”

Hoseok looked crestfallen and she realized she’d won. Obviously he couldn’t insist that a housewarming party for his friends was more important than a private memorial service for her dead grandmother.

She hated herself a little in that moment but she couldn’t take it back. She couldn’t think about the ramifications of when that lie would come out. She just stood there with panic trapped behind her teeth as he mulled this over. Victory didn’t feel good.

“Well… ok what if we went to my friends’ house earlier in the day?” he asked. “What time is your family thing?”

“Seven.” She made that up. Maybe she should have said earlier. How long did Jungkook need to earn his tickets? “But I have to get ready too.”

Suddenly Hoseok reanimated, “Oh, not until the evening though? Ok well they’re doing an all day thing because it’s a whole barn and stuff. We can just go earlier!”

“Isn’t it a party?”

“Yeah but it’s kind of a reunion thing, it’s not just a drinking party like your friends have.”

Alex choked on a bit of a saliva. Just a drinking party.

Hoseok didn’t notice and continued, “They have horses we can ride and like a bunch of animals, and they converted the barn into an art gallery–”

“I thought they just bought this place?”

“No no they bought it and paid to have it restored and they’re just now moving in. Ah, ok, this can still work. Is that ok?”

“It’s an hour away, isn’t it? I have to be back in time.”

“Yeah, no problem. We can go– I’ll check with them but we can go for lunch and the afternoon and then I’ll bring you home in time to get ready for your family thing.”

Realizing he might fish for an invitation to a thing that wasn’t happening, and also because she felt guiltier by the second about her lie, she suggested, “Ok but I feel bad for you to miss the evening. I could just drive myself and come back early.”

“No no I can use you as an excuse, I’m sure I’ll be ready to go too, and I’d rather leave together.”

She didn’t understand why. She didn’t understand why this was so important, but trapped now by her own lies, she felt consumed with guilt and didn’t want to argue with him further. Her conscience could rest easier with a compromise like this.

“Ok. Sure. As long as I’m back in time– yeah, we can make this work,” she said. “Ok?”

He nodded slowly. She felt that. It was uncomfortable to argue. They didn’t do that often. And part of her wondered if that was because usually she just went along with whatever. Now that her life had slimmed down, it wasn’t like their schedules were at odds. She rarely had anything going on. She was so eager to be part of his life and world and it pissed her off a little that the one time she had a schedule conflict he wanted to press her for details, as if she ought to defer to his judgment about her priorities!

“Yeah. Ok. Sorry I got spicy about it,” he said and shuffled close. “It’s just really important to me to have you there. I want you to meet all my friends.”

Usually Alex would have purred under the insinuation that he wanted to show her off. But when she already felt pissy and prickly, it didn’t quite hit the same. She had to force the smile. It was uncomfortable to swallow as she forced herself to reciprocate the hug she didn’t want. Maybe the pill wasn’t resentment or anger though, maybe it was guilt. Maybe she needed him to be the bad guy right now because holy shit she was hiding from her boyfriend that she was going to spend the evening with Jungkook and that was an asshole thing to do, wasn’t it?

And yet Alex did it.

Alex had definitely worn the wrong shoes for the farm but Hoseok had too. She loud laughed at the way he cringed every time they picked their way across the muddy farmyard to get to the barn or the firepit or the main house where food and music lured them as much as the shelter from the cold gray day.

But Hoseok’s college friends, it turned out, were made of sterner stuff. They teased Hoseok when he asked for wipes to clean his shoes off. They teased him when he didn’t want to drink. They teased him when he didn’t want to ride a horse. Every time Alex and Hoseok would start to get comfy inside, his friends would beckon them out again to feed the chickens or because everyone was talking about the new roof on the barn and they wanted Hoseok to see it too or because a new friend had arrived and they wanted everyone to return to the barn so that person could talk about the pieces of their art that hung there.

It was fun in the beginning. Alex felt special as the new girlfriend no one knew, and Hoseok was apparently very proud to have her with him, which felt good. She held onto his arm and stomped all over the place and giggle-whispered with Hoseok about the baby goats. She felt like she’d stepped into a different class of people, touristing with Hoseok, and there was camaraderie in that. She got a little prickly about the way they teased him but he didn’t seem to mind so she just squeezed his hand and went along with it.

“Are you going to open this place like a museum?” Alex had foolishly asked while trying to sound really interested and knowledgeable while staring at avant garde art (was that the right word?) hung on the walls of the barn so modernized on the inside she wasn’t sure you could really call it a barn anymore. The question set off a cavalcade of information about non-profits and working farms and private versus public art. Alex had been shocked by the way this group of people seemed all so closely woven. She’d been relieved when Hoseok wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind, but also confused as to how exactly Hoseok fit in with these people.

“So how did you all know each other in school?” she asked Hoseok later as they huddled close by the fire. It was a little too cold for the fire to be fun, but Hoseok had asked if she wanted to and she thought that meant he did so there they were with a few others. By now there were several dozen people roaming the place and she had hoped it would be a little less intense than the hours of acting as a welcoming party that had started the day.

She meant the question just for him but wound up with another earful from the other people around the fire who had apparently eavesdropped and eagerly dumped overlapping stories out as Hoseok tried to get a word in edgewise. Eventually she teased out that Hoseok had been roommates with a few of them, and danced with a few others.

“You quit though after college, right?” one guy asked Hoseok. Alex had given up on remembering their names because most of them had nicknames too so it was impossible to know who anyone was talking about. Also she was cold. And also the sun was starting to go down and that vague antsy feeling she’d had all afternoon about making it home in time was starting to get louder.

She wasn’t too distracted to miss the way another guy kind of scoffed, “Yeah you know it’s not a life that most people are cut out for.”

“Oh, did you tell them you’ve been dancing again?” she asked.

Hoseok shifted uncomfortably in the chair they were wedged into together and grinned, “Oh well that’s not really anything– just starting to get back into it. I miss it, you know? I’m very out of shape…” There was something in his voice Alex found curious but she didn’t press it because one of the girls had just asked her a question.

“How did you two meet again?”

“Work.”

“Where do you work?”

“Starbucks,” Alex answered.

“Oh. Corporate?”

“I was for a while but now I’m an assistant manager. I like being more hands on with a coffee shop,” Hoseok answered. “What about you, what are you doing?”

Alex butted in to clarify, “I’m just a barista.”

Hoseok looked surprised by her defensive tone, but she felt like he’d just tried to hide that she was nothing very ambitious.

“Yeah, you’re great at your job. She’s a shift supervisor. One of the best we’ve got –not at my store though, unfortunately. Then we wouldn’t be able to date so I took the hit professionally,” he chuckled.

Ok, maybe he hadn’t tried to hide it.

“It’s cold, can we go inside and warm up for a little bit?”

“Just sit closer to the fire,” one of the other girls suggested. But the smoke was way too thick for that and all the fire really did was make her face burn and leave her ass cold. 

“You’re a city kid, huh?” another unimportant person joked and Alex didn’t appreciate the laugh, or the way Hoseok squeezed her shoulders and agreed, “Yeah.” As if he wasn’t?!

“It’s great to see Hobi in his natural element,” Alex smiled brightly at him. Hoseok’s eyes narrowed and he leaned in and kissed her cheek, laughing as if she’d just meant it as a playful joke. Maybe it would have been playful half an hour ago when she could still feel her nose. “We should probably get going soon though,” she commented, checking her phone. She’d asked to be home by six and it was four now but they could hit traffic.

“Soon,” Hoseok agreed. “Hey, Chris, whatever happened to that dance startup you were so excited about? Is that a sore subject?”

“Soon” apparently meant different things to Hoseok and Alex. Or maybe it was just that every minute seemed to drag worse for her. She wanted to think the stories from college were funny because this was a glimpse into Hoseok’s history she’d never had before, but the stories actually weren’t very funny. Hoseok cleaning a shared suite where it was obvious no one else had helped or appreciated his efforts. Hoseok drunk too quick at parties and left passed out various places as if that was some funny joke. Hoseok failing a test because he’d spent all night designated driving friends and then been such a “good friend” he didn’t rat them out to the professor. Hoseok working his ass off to fill in last minute for a space in their dance crew at a competition, and there was just something in the way they talked about it that made her uncomfortable, “yeah you were crazy motivated, we knew we could give you anything and you’d learn it or die trying.” He was an incredibly motivated person!

And honestly these people were kinda assholes! Whatever novelty had existed in the beginning wore off completely and Alex realized that these college friends of Hoseok’s were nothing more than bullying assholes. It was easy to see now how eager he had probably been in college to maintain these friendships, and how eager he was now to still impress these people who didn’t deserve his effort to impress. 

Something to talk about another day, though, because it was time to go.

“Hey, we should head out in case we hit traffic,” Alex said at 4:30. Hoseok checked his watch and nodded, “Ok yeah after this story.”

At 4:45 she went to the bathroom and grabbed Hoseok’s arm and insisted, “Ok, time to go.”

“Sure one sec, let me help –hey, do you need help carrying that inside before it rains?” he called and darted forward to help Madelynn, one of the women who owned the farm. Alex was not actually sure how many people lived here.

Holy shit, was this a cult?

The question still lingered on her tongue when at five she tried to pull Hoseok away again, reminding him, “I need to be back by six to get ready. Can we leave the compound now?”

“The compound? What?”

“Let’s say goodbye, we need to go.”

“Hey Hobi, come look, Riley brought a video of Regionals and you’re in it, we’re putting it on now!’

“Wah, let’s look,” Hoseok pleaded, grabbing her arm. “I want you to see the way I danced in college.”

“Can’t we just watch it another time?”

“I don’t have it, come on, it’ll only take a minute!” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the house.

Twenty minutes.

Now Alex was starting to get pissed, and pulled him aside to point out, “We need to get going. You don’t even have your coat on. I’m already late to get ready and if we run into traffic–”

“We won’t, there’s not traffic back to the city this time of night.”

“But I’m already going to have less time to get ready.”

“Ok, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, and kissed her forehead. “Let me say bye and we’ll go.”

He meant bye to everyone. It meant stomping back out to the barn and the campfire and through the living room again and getting distracted by the video on the TV.

“Hoseok,” she hissed. “Let’s go.”

It had been too loud. People looked over, and Hoseok got red in the face as he frowned, “Ok, sorry, we’re going. You’re ready?”

“Yes,” she murmured, embarrassed. She didn’t bother waving as they found their way out to the car. But Hoseok stepped in dog shit on the way and had to go back for wipes so he could clean it off before he’d get in the car, while Alex sat in the passenger’s seat fuming.

“Ok,” he finally said, overly cheerful. It thudded to the ground. “Time to go.”

“It was time to go an hour ago,” she pointed out.

“We’ll get home quick–”

“It’s already almost six! We still have an hour to drive!” she pointed out. 

“Ok, sorry, you can tell your family it was my fault–”

“Just drive, please,” she said, and pulled out her phone and texted.

[Alex]: hey may be running late, got stuck at another thing

[JK]: k I’m already here

What! She scrolled up to check but they hadn’t ever agreed on a time. She’d assumed seven because… because why?

[Alex]: I’m like an hour away

[JK]: it’s cool I wanted to make sure I have time to get enough tickets so I got here early 

Alex appreciated his chill. It was fine. It was fine if she was late to meet Jungkook, there wasn’t a hard timeline, they were just going to play some games and buy a slushie machine and wave goodbye to a building. It was annoying Hoseok had dragged his feet about leaving but she didn’t actually need an hour to get ready to meet Jungkook. She planned to just change clothes and go and she’d already laid everything out. Worst case scenario she could just wear what she was wearing and go right to the arcade. Yeah, maybe she’d do that, because the knowledge that Jungkook was already there made her twitch impatiently in her seat like she was already late.

“Ah, is your family going to be mad at me?” Hoseok asked. “Sorry. Sorry. Do you want me just to drive you straight home and you can get your car later?”

“No, it’s fine. Just focus on driving please.”

An awkward silence ballooned.

“Hey, um… thanks for going with me. I know it’s a big day for you. I’m sorry I kind of lost track of time.”

“How could you lose track of time while I kept harassing you about it?”

He laughed, maybe a little forced, “You know I’m just social. I thought you liked that about me!” 

She frowned harder. She did. Usually. 

“I do but you knew I had to leave at a certain time.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just get carried away with– I haven’t seen these people in so long. It’s so strange, I feel like I’m right back in college with them.”

“Yeah but is that a good thing?” Alex asked. “They’re assholes.”

“Uh… huh?”

Fuck.

Her bad temper was making her too blunt, so she tried to explain, “I just didn’t think they treated you very well. All their stories were about you working really hard and them not appreciating it.”

“No no, that’s just how they were in college, you know? I was kind of odd. I’m still kind of odd!” he laughed.

“No, you’re great,” she insisted, even while secretly angry with him. Or, well, not so secretly. “I just don’t think they talked very nice to you. You drove all this way and they didn’t seem genuinely interested in you at all, they just wanted to show off their art.”

“They were interested in me…”

“And I think they were judgy about me just being a barista–”

“They weren’t, Alex. Why would they be? Your job is fine!”

“Yeah, ‘fine’ is probably what they thought– why is traffic so slow?” she demanded and began to take her coat off because it was too hot in the car. The slow down had been obvious though, a sea of red brake lights blocking them to a stop.

“Must be an accident,” Hoseok mumbled. His mouth curved downwards. Alex resisted saying anything about it, just looked nervously at the red lights and tried to crane her neck to see how much further it stretched.

For a few minutes the car was painfully tense. Alex’s stomach hurt with the restless frustration. Late. Late late late. Jungkook was already at the arcade and she still had to get her car and get there to meet him. And there would be no rain check. It was tonight or never.

Finally the cars started to move again. Alex let out a sigh of relief and settled back in her chair.

“I’m sorry you didn’t like my college friends,” Hoseok said, cracking the thin peace wide open. “They liked you.”

“I don’t think they did but I’m surprised… you really don’t have an issue with how they treated you?”

“No, Alex, they’re just old friends.”

“That doesn’t give them the right. You just see the good in people too much I guess.”

“Yeah well you too,” he retorted. 

She wasn’t used to retorts from Hoseok.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” he sighed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything. I appreciate that you came all the way out here with me today and I’m sorry you didn’t have fun.”

The way he said it made her feel guilty, like she’d only half done what she was supposed to do, like she ought to have just relished the way these college friends were kind of judgmental and rude.

“I thought you’d appreciate that I’m protective of you,” she huffed at him and turned away to chew on her thumbnail which she did not usually do. 

“There’s a difference between being protective of me and not wanting to be there.”

“I obviously wanted to be there or I wouldn’t have gone even though it’s making me late for my own plans. I don’t think it’s fair that you’re mad at me that I didn’t like watching college friends bully you for six hours–”

“It wasn’t six hours.”

“We got there at one–”

“Yeah that’s not–”

“And we left at nearly six–”

“That’s only five–”

“Does that one hour really make a difference?!” she cried. She covered her face. “Just… drive…”

“I am driving, as fast as I can, but I’m not going to get into a wreck. Your family would rather you be late and safe, I’m sure.”

“They would have preferred I be on time,” she argued. And felt the defensive rage prickled further because he kept mentioning her family like he knew she had told a lie and wanted to see how many times he could get her to tell it again. 

“Is this because I forgot to tell you I dated Angela for a little while–”

“No,” Alex assured him. “I don’t care at all about that, it was years ago.”

“I didn’t realize she’d even be here or I would have told you, but it really wasn’t anything important. We only dated for a few months and now she’s married.”

“I’m not bothered by it,” Alex said again and sincerely meant it. “What, you think I’m just being a jealous bitch right now? I really don’t care about meeting your ex-girlfriend. I’m proud of you for not marrying into that group–”

“You’re being mean–”

“You’re making me late!”

“So call your family! Put them on speaker phone right now and I’ll tell them it’s my fault and–”

“I don’t want my family to be mad at you!”

“I’ll make it up to them.”

“Just drive!” she pleaded and looked at her phone. 7:15.

Her stomach twisted with nausea. Her whole body was bouncing in the seat. She couldn’t look at the clock anymore, she couldn’t get there any faster, and she felt the wires inside her twisting almost to the point of breaking. She was supposed to be at the arcade with Jungkook fifteen minutes ago but Hoseok had made her go to that stupid cold dirty farm party with his asshole friends and now she was already late.

[Alex]: sorry traffic

[JK]: it’s cool

[JK]: they close at 9 tonight they just said

[Alex]: fuck

[Alex]: I’m hurrying

It was a lie. There was nothing she could do to hurry. She gritted her teeth before realizing she was chewing a hole in her cheek. She stopped that and tried to find a position in the seat that would make the car move faster. 

“Fuck.”

“What.”

Hoseok didn’t answer at first. He mumbled curses under his breath and pulled onto the exit ramp. 

“Hobi?”

“We’re um.. I’m going the wrong way–”

“What?!”

The rage and frustration left her incapable of speech at first. Probably that was for the best. He pulled over and checked directions on his phone and Alex seethed in her seat. He didn’t like to drive with his phone GPS on because he felt like it was distracting. He preferred to just memorize the route. He had a good memory. Usually that worked. 

But not fucking today!

He pulled back onto the highway going the other way and Alex thought she might vomit from the stress. She was going to miss it. She was going to miss the whole thing.

She pulled out her phone and did the math.

“How far in the wrong way did we go?” she demanded. 

“I’m going to drive faster. Make sure you’re buckled.”

“Hobi…”

The drive became very quiet after that. Alex had nothing to say. Occasionally she looked at her phone. Sometimes only two minutes had passed and that gave her hope. Other times it was longer. 

And then.

And then.

A loud popping sound made the car jerk and rattle. The cartoonish explosion of the tire was so obvious in an instant. Hoseok immediately pulled over to the shoulder and put the hazards on. Alex immediately burst into tears. And Hoseok did too.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m trying to get you home fast, I’m sorry I lost track of time.”

Alex just covered her face with her hands and cried, the stress rushing out on trembling breaths. She was going to miss the whole fucking thing. It was eight. They closed at nine. And now they had a flat tire. And her boyfriend was literally in tears, he felt so bad about it and she was literally a liar. 

Her tears actually helped though. They vented the anger that had been bubbling up higher and higher. They washed away the pressure because she’d missed it. It was over. There was no point trying to get there anymore and no need to try. The surrender took all the fight out of her.

“Do you have roadside assistance?” she managed to choke out through her tears. She sniffled. Hoseok nodded. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Ok.”

She listened to the tremble in Hoseok’s voice as he made the call. She kept hold of his hand, trying to pull herself back to sanity. Ok. She’d missed it. That’s all there was to it. All this did was prove she had been right two months ago that she couldn’t do it all. She couldn’t have both. She’d had to choose and she’d made her choice and trying to go back wasn’t possible. 

“I lied to you,” she admitted quietly as they sat there waiting. “I don’t have a family thing tonight.”

“What?”

“The arcade I used to go to with Jungkook is closing. Tonight is the last night and I was supposed to meet him so we could finally cash in his tickets and say goodbye to the place.”

He didn’t respond at first. She was afraid to look at him but then curiosity overpowered her shame and she saw he just stared at the steering wheel. She waited for the yelling and the accusations and the anger.

Instead he asked, “Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“Because I didn’t want you to get upset I was going to see him again.”

“Alex… I never told you that you couldn’t see him. You’re the one who decided that.”

“Yeah but… it’s not that I really meant to hide it from you or anything but then you had this other party and I figured you wouldn’t understand why this was so important to me. Maybe you would just think I was going back on my word or something but it’s not about him, it’s about… it’s just that this arcade was really important to me for such a long time and…”

“I understand.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry you’re missing it. Tonight is the last night?”

“Yep.”

“What time does it close?”

“Nine.”

They looked the clock on the dash. 8:35. 

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

What else could either of them say? He hadn’t reacted badly even though she’d lied, which didn't give her any reason to puff up again. Instead it left her feeling stupid for not having been honest in the first place. 

“Can I ask you a question and you’ll tell me the truth?”

“Sure,” he agreed.

“If I had told you I wanted to skip the party to go to the arcade with Jungkook, would it have hurt your feelings?”

Hoseok’s mouth twitched was enough of an answer for her. He hesitated before turning to her in the dark car and admitting,

“Yeah. But that doesn’t mean I would have told you not to do it or anything.”

“Now you can just be relieved that my family isn’t upset. Just me.”

“Sorry.” But she knew he wasn’t really. Sorry she was upset, sure. But probably not sorry that he’d gotten to take her to the party and she wasn’t spending the evening with Jungkook after all. 

“It’s hard to lose things and people you really cared about,” she told him. 

“Even when they’re not what’s best for you anymore?” Hoseok asked.

“Didn’t you still want to impress your college friends?”

“Ah.” He sighed. “Yeah.”

They didn’t have to talk about it more because roadside assistance pulled up then. Instead Hoseok stood outside holding the flashlight while the man put the spare tire on. Hoseok made Alex stand over on the sidewalk under a streetlight because he was worried she’d get hit. In the meantime, she texted Jungkook.

[Alex]: flat tire I’m not going to make it

He didn’t respond. For all she knew, he didn’t even believe her. Jungkook was someone separate from her now. Maybe he thought she just had too much fun at the party with Hoseok and flaked. She hadn’t even told him she was at a party with Hoseok but she wasn’t thinking logically right now about things. She felt exhausted and disappointed by everything.

[Alex]: I’m really sorry I really wanted to be there

When he still didn’t respond, she gave up.

With the spare tire on, Hoseok had to drive extra slow. It was a blessing Alex had already called it because this would definitely have had her scratching holes in the roof of the car. Instead they were both very soft and quiet as Hoseok drove back to his apartment. He thanked her again and apologized again. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said. “And I’m sorry I was a brat about the thing today.”

“I understand. I hope you don’t feel like you have to lie to me ever again though.” Leave it to Hoseok to give her the easy way out. It didn’t make her feel any less shitty. As a punishment, she wasn’t getting her evening with Jungkook anyway. Maybe she would have if she’d told the truth. Or maybe Hoseok was overestimating himself right now and it would have been a fight a few days ago instead. But maybe if they’d fought a few days ago, she could have made it to the arcade, she could have just sped over when Jungkook admitted he was already there. 

Was that a shitty thing to think?

They hugged but it was an awkward goodbye. The night buzzed in her ears when she got into her own car to drive home. But the arcade drew her. Even though she’d missed the night, she felt the loss settle deep in her belly, and knew she at least wanted to drive by one more time and peer in the windows and wave. She felt like she deserved at least that.

The emotions of everything still had her overheated so she cracked her window to get some cool air in and stripped her coat off as she drove. Wouldn’t it be ironic to get into a wreck now? She felt wrecked by the day. Probably she was going to cry at the sight of the stupid building.

At 9:23 she pulled up in front of the closed arcade in the emptying parking lot. She grabbed her coat but just carried it over her arm and walked quickly through the parking lot. The cold air felt good, hopefully it was settling her flush. She knew her eyes were swollen.

Jungkook sat on the curb under the street lamp like a delinquent, a box and a bag beside him.

“Oh hey,” he greeted and pushed up, like he’d been waiting for her.

“What are you still doing here!?” she demanded. “I told you I couldn’t make it! We got a flat tire–”

“Phone died,” he admitted with a crooked grin. “I thought you might not be going to make it but figured I’d wait a while, just in case– woooah, hey.”

She started to cry.

“I tried really hard to make it,” she sobbed, crumbling under the weight of the day. “We were at a house party like an hour away and Hobi took forever to leave and then there was traffic and we went the wrong way probably because I kept yelling at him and then we got a flat tire and–”

“Yeah but you still made it,” Jungkook said stupidly as he pulled her into a hug. Or maybe he hadn’t been doing that, and just reacted to her collapsing against him. She couldn’t tell. She didn’t care. His arms were around her and for a moment it really did feel like it was ok, or at least over, she could just vent about it now. The worst was passed.

She whined, “I didn’t make it. We didn’t get to play anything or eat mall pizza and I didn’t even get to see you finally buy your shit. Did you get it?”

“Ah, yeah, come look,” he said, dragging her over with his arm around her shoulder. “I got the Slushie maker! And I had enough to get all this little shit. Figured I’ll pull something out when I need to pretend I was just here,” he joked, opening the plastic bag so she could peer in. It was all foam dice, sparkly pens, plastic topics, finger puppets, and Tootsie Rolls. “They were generous with the ticket costs,” he laughed. “Here.” He pulled out a slap bracelet and smacked it down on her wrist. The sharp edges hurt the exposed skin.

“Ouch,” she said calmly and then laughed at his surprised look.

“It hurt?!”

“I think it slit my wrist. Now we know why they’re closing. Slap bracelet lawsuits.”

He laughed, then saw something over her shoulder and shoved the bag at her, “Here, wait. Hey!” He ran to the door and leaned against it and knocked. She could tell from afar that he’d just cranked his charm up to a hundred, she could recognize it just in his posture. 

The lights from inside illuminated the cracked door, but she couldn’t see who was through it. 

He came running back, motioning, “Ok, let’s go. We get one game.”

“What?”

“One game of air hockey.”

“What? They’ll let us play–”

“Yeah, one game.” He yanked up the box and her coat she’d let drop, leaving her only the bag of goodies and an expression of confusion as she turned to follow him in.

“Tylerrrr,” Jungkook grinned at their favorite tired employee as he let them in. “I owe you.”

“Yeah a hundred bucks.”

“Dude let us play our game first.”

“Thanks Tyler,” Alex beamed at him, wishing her smile was nearly powerful enough to convey her gratitude.

It was eerie being inside with most of the machines already turned off and the overhead lights on instead of the muted wall lights The prize wall was already stripped down after the last night of trades. The carpet looked dirtier than ever under the bright lights, and the lack of people definitely made it feel like a ghost town.

Jungkook led her right over to the air hockey table, which still had lights on. 

“I don’t have my card,” Alex realized.

“I think I’ve got enough.”

He did. The sound of the air whirring to life made Alex’s stomach flip. She sniffled.

“I haven’t even wiped the dirt with you and you’re already in tears?” Jungkook taunted. Alex held her hand over the tiny prickles of air and laughed.

“You fucking wish.”

Alex had the puck to start with but Jungkook blocked her shot.

“You’re rusty.”

He tried to hit the puck but managed to somehow just slide his mallet across it. They both laughed.

“I think you have us confused,” she teased.

He hit it and it bounced to the side. She hit it back, but not full force. He bounced it back. The arhythmic clicks of the mallets and the tink of the puck hitting the walls worked a magic in Alex. She felt herself finally thawing from the long day. The noise, the feeling, the smell of this place was all so achingly familiar. 

Jungkook’s empty-eyed concentration, the way his mouth hung open slightly as he tried to time his mallet right to intercept the puck, also achingly familiar. It distracted her long enough he managed to slide the puck into her goal with a poor defense from her.

“Really rusty.”

“Shut up, I’m just warming up.”

“Only one game!” Tyler shouted from somewhere out of sight.

“Shut up, Tyler!” Alex shouted back. 

Jungkook laughed, “He’s so excited to never be bullied by you again.”

“I’ve never bullied him! Tyler is a national treasure!”

Jungkook squashed the puck against the wall and it went flipping through the air. They laughed about it like small delighted children.

The tear tracks evaporated as the taunting picked up. Never quite to what it once was, but enough that Alex felt the disappointment of the day slide away. They shouted as they sent the puck soaring again. Jungkook whined when she shot it straight into his goal because he’d bought the fake out and gone the wrong way. She relished in his tiny noise of frustration.

But Alex held back from prompting it again. She didn’t want the game to end so quickly. And when they came to the last tie-breaking goal way longer than it should have taken, she realized he had been too. They bounced the puck back and forth, the click of it taking on a more melancholy pace. 

“Sorry I cried on you earlier,” she mumbled over the whir of the machine. “It was a long day.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. Everything ok in general?”

“Yep. Fine. I mean… I miss you, don’t take that the wrong way.”

“Yeah I know,” he snorted. “What’s not to miss?”

“What about you? Are you doing ok? Namjoon treating you well?”

He laughed with his nod, “Yeah. His place is pretty fucking sweet but he’s got a lot of rules.”

“So do my parents.”

“I’m going to start calling him Eomma Kim, I wonder how that will go–”

“Oh my god please don’t be homeless.”

“Ok I do have parents too, Alex,” he scoffed. “But I figured I shouldn’t move in with them right down the street when you were trying to get away from me.” He started really laughing, like he’d thought about it before but now it was suddenly the funniest thing he’d ever considered.

“What? No…. no,” she frowned. “Don’t say it like that!”

His laughter faded out with, “Ok.”

The puck had slowed down with neither of them exerting effort. It came to a stop in the middle of the table.

And then the air stopped.

“Tyler!” they both shouted, looking over where he’d stepped on the extension cord button.

“I gave you the game, you can’t stay here all night. I want to go home!”

“But it’s your last night! Won’t you miss this place?” Alex teased.

“Like a foot in my ass. Who won the last game?”

“It was a draw,” Jungkook said.

“But I would have won,” Alex added. “If I was trying.”

“Only if I let you win.”

“Uh, big talk for the dude who can’t score without my help.”

“I have scored plenty without your help.”

“Wait, what are we talking about?” she demanded, eyes narrowing. And for a moment she was transported backwards to a time where Jungkook scored all the time with every woman in sight and Alex laughed and teased because it sure beat crying about it. Eventually you got used to that kind of hurt, it turned out. Especially when you were funny and good at papering over your feelings with really funny jokes about your manwhore friend.

Except this time his eyes went wide as he cried, “I meant in air hockey!”

“Sure you did!”

“I did!”

“Take it outside, folks,” Tyler wearily sighed and gestured towards the door. It felt good to laugh their way out, bickering again whether Alex would have won or not. She was better at the game, but tired from a long day, and Jungkook suggested maybe he’d been hiding his true skills this time and Alex did not make the easy joke about “where were you hiding skills? With your alleged love?”

“Wait, let’s take a photo. I promise not to post it,” Jungkook said before they got very far away, lifting his phone. Alex agreed to it, stretching high while Jungkook crouched to be in the photo, the air hockey table and empty arcade behind them.

“Nice. Jungkook meets his Air Hockey Idol, that’s what that photo looks like.”

“You have no reason to let me win, you’re just masking,” Jungkook insisted as they walked.

“Uh, because I feel bad.”

“About breaking my heart?”

“About being late!” she screeched. “Jungkook! I did not!”

“Ok ok no, I know, it’s not your fault you were late,” he said, quickly changing the topic and she wondered if he regretted making that joke. It was very Jungkook to make a joke and then have to walk it back. He always took jokes too far. She did it too. Especially about things that were serious and scary. No wonder they never had a serious conversation about things until it was too late.

“It’s not,” she insisted. “It’s never my fault. I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”

“I know. I know. Ok, here have another slap bracelet,” he said, digging one out of the bag and slapping it onto her other wrist.

“Ouch. That hurt again.”

“But you kinda liked it?”

“I didn’t kinda like it!” she insisted and tried half-heartedly to kick the back of his leg. Just like she used to.

Damn she missed this.

Maybe he thought it at the same time, because his expression shifted and they both got quiet for a moment.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do.”

She didn’t argue again. He walked her to the car. She accepted a fistful of candy and tossed her things into the passenger’s seat and congratulated him on the Slushie machine. 

“And thanks for messaging me about this. Sorry I missed most of it but I’m glad we got to say goodbye.”

“To the arcade,” he said quickly. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

“Ok well you literally moved out of our apartment–” she joked.

“After you did! And I live with Namjoon, you know where to find me.”

She nodded and pursed her lips, then said, “Yeah, I know.”

“Ok. Well. Night, Alex. Thanks for one last game. Let me know if you ever want a Slushie.”

He waved, like they were friends in passing. She waved back but made it awkward and he laughed. His car wasn’t far and she watched from her driver’s seat to make sure he made it safely before she remembered to start her own car.

She hated that he’d said that. One last game. It wasn’t the last game of anything they’d ever play. It couldn’t be! She wouldn’t let it be. So what if they couldn’t go back to the way it was before? Could this really be enough? Just running into each other every couple of months? Making excuses to keep apart until something major happened?

But it had to be enough. That was the way a normal friendship worked anyway, right? You just saw each other sometimes and it was cool. And she had to be careful about it. Strict. She couldn’t let herself get carried away and try to read too much into why her heart was racing and it took her a few minutes to compose herself to drive because for a brief second the ugly too-bright parking lot lights had felt romantic. Or why the whole rotten day had ceased to matter when she found him sitting there on the curb, still waiting for her. Or why she had never wanted the hockey game to end. 

It was just missing a friend. She just missed her friend. She couldn’t go back to feeling more than that. She’d grown up and out of that. She could be normal about him again soon. This had been normal. Clearly he could be normal too.

She adjusted the slap bracelets on her wrists, kind of ok with the way they bit into her skin, and drove back to her parents’ house.

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[ectonurites]

thoughts on convergence batgirl?

ah yes i did mention i have problems with it in a tag last night which i imagine prompted you asking this.

on the one hand, in 2015 it was a 'made me cry out of joy to see Steph back in the Batgirl suit at all' sort of thing, so i'll always have a certain fondness for it. i do think it has some good moments (like the one in that above linked post) plus Steph & Cass as roommates my beloved.

BUT the major problem I have is that I think the premise is inherently flawed—I think it's way too out of character for Steph to quit being Batgirl/a vigilante the way she is shown to have done once the dome appeared. And that sorta bleeds into the whole story, it's a driving force behind how Steph & co are dealing with the Convergence situation.

Steph’s resilience and unwillingness to ever give up anything—no matter what the world threw at her—had pretty much always been a defining characteristic for her. The only times prior she’d ever ‘given it [being a hero] up’ were temporarily while she was pregnant (because. obviously) and when it was entirely not her choice post-War Games (because Leslie faked her death and brought her to Africa, but basically the second she got back to Gotham she was being Spoiler again).

Being a hero is something she had to work so hard for. It's something that she was told to stop doing over and over again—by Bruce, by Tim, by fucking everyone—but it's the thing she wanted to do and it's the way she wanted to help, so by god she was gonna do it!

And once she became Batgirl, that determination to be a hero only intensified:

(Bruce Wayne: The Road Home — Batgirl #1)

Like... this is her last page before the reboot:

(Batgirl (2009) #24)

Literally saying 'it's only the end if you want it to be' in rebuttal to Babs mentioning an end, and following it up with 'Here we go' as she swings off into the early morning to keep Batgirl-ing—in her last appearance before continuity is about to reboot and make her disappear entirely for a few years. This page is like the clearest example of showing how Stephanie Brown is a character that will carry on being a hero—doing what she loves and thinks is right—even if things are ending all around her.

So I just can't comprehend looking at that and saying 'yeah, when an emergency hits, she's gonna give all this up ASAP'. It just feels like it contradicts the very nature of Steph's attitude on being a hero and will always rub me the wrong way.

Then, a smaller thing that also bugged me on the reread of Convergence Batgirl I just did is how Tim/Steph was handled.

Because they were apparently together as Red Robin and Batgirl pre-dome which then led to the 'Tim ghosting Steph because she quit being Batgirl' breakup... but them being together was not the case nor really the trajectory things were headed towards last we saw the post-crisis versions of them. They had never gotten officially back together after Steph's death in War Games—like there were a few kisses and obvious feelings that were still present when she was revealed to be alive right around Batman RIP, but after the shit that went wrong at the end of Robin '93 they were very much so NOT together anymore. And when they had the chance to get back together during the Red Robin/Batgirl crossover they very specifically didn't.

So it just feels like... IDK, randomly added in drama for the sake of drama, that felt like it didn't add anything meaningful to the story besides... connecting an action to the already-seeming-ooc 'Steph Quit' plot point. But like, I think there easily could have been a story of rekindling their actual old relationship—without adding in this off-panel getting back together and breaking up thing—that would have made them getting back together again at the end feel way more satisfying.

[garbinge]

Contaminated (13/?)

Angel Reyes x OC Lara Barrera Losa OC Lara Losa x OC Frankie Loza

From these August Prompts:  “Damage Control"

A/N: Update for my girlies <3 and Angel lol.

For a refresh, all the chapter links are in the below link!

Chapter Index

TW: 18+, mentions of death, losing a loved one, Alzheimers, cancer, light angst, cursing. . 

Word Count: 1.8k 

Taglist: (Just let me know if you want to be added :) @est1887 @minimel-fics @spnaquakindgdom @nessamc @alienstardust @mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0 @lyly00 @drabbles-mc @lilac-tea-time (it’s been a while since I’ve posted this, if I’ve forgot to add you to the taglist or you’d like to be tagged just let me know!)

“So this has been going on for five years?” Frankie sat at the kitchen island trying to wrap her brain around everything. 

“No, once five years ago. And now, only for a few months.” Lara explained. 

“Months?!” Frankie’s eyes went bug eyed. 

“Weeks! A few weeks!” Lara corrected herself to ease Frankie more into it. She was in full damage control mode and trying to back track her mistake of not telling her best friend about her and Angel, although classifying it as a mistake wasn’t exactly true. She had her reasons for not saying anything but she was regretting her finding out this way. Lara’s eyes moved over to the person to her right expecting him to chime in but Angel was too busy stuffing his face. 

Lara closed her eyes and took a big sigh before looking back at Frankie. 

“I was going to tell you, I promise I was going to tell you.” Her hand extended across the island to grab Frankie’s. “I just, things are really complicated right now. I didn’t wanna risk Bishop finding out and honestly we weren’t really sure this was anything until yesterday anyways.” 

At that Angel looked up from his plate, “Um, no I was actually sure, just following your lead.” 

Lara looked at him with a frown and then back at Frankie, “Alright well I wasn’t sure this was anything so I wanted to wait to tell you.”

Frankie just sat there, frown on her face, more confused than angry as she took in all the information.

“Are you happy?” She looked at Lara and asked, her face was serious. 

Lara looked at Frankie for a split second before looking over to Angel who was also waiting for her response. Her silence was bringing anxiety to everyone in the room except herself. Turning back to Frankie she nodded. 

“The happiest I’ve been since Aiden.” She knew Frankie would get that, Lara loved her little brother like anyone would have loved and cared for their little sibling, but Aiden brought Lara pure joy into her life and when he died that light in Lara went with him. 

“Okay then.” Frankie said with a nod and she stood up getting ready to leave. 

“I’m going up north with Hank today to see my grandma.” She was grabbing her bag and situating it back over her pajamas. 

“It’s like 5 in the morning.” Angel said confused since the girl had just gotten home an hour ago and was pretty drunk. 

Lara knew though. This time of year was difficult for everyone. For Lara and Bishop it brought up the painful memories of losing Aiden. For Frankie and Hank it was his mother, her grandmother, while she was still alive, she was going downhill but they still went up every year around this time to celebrate the anniversary of her beating cancer. It was fucked up that the year she beat cancer the early onset of Alzheimer's began. It gave them an excuse to visit her and ring the bell every year, though and it did bring some happiness to each of them to see her celebrate it. 

“I completely spaced.” Lara said realizing it was one of the reasons she had gotten drunk. “Do you need a ride?” Yes, Lara was sucking up, but that’s what you did when you were in full damage control mode with your best friend. You kissed her ass. 

“No Hank’s picking me up, I’m gonna wait outside for him.” She squeezed Lara’s arm and gave a half smile even though it looked more like a frown. “I’m happy you’re happy. You deserve that.” 

As Frankie passed Angel she leaned over to give him a quick goodbye. “If you hurt her I’ll fuckin’ gut you.” It was said at such a whisper, Angel almost missed it but he didn’t. His eyes went wide and his brows met in the middle of his forehead as the shock and confusion of what Frankie said to him settled in. As Frankie pulled away the smile on her face was like nothing of the sorts had just been spoken from her mouth. 

Lara walked Frankie to the door, there was so much more she wanted to say but right now wasn’t the right time. But she couldn’t just say nothing. 

“I want you to know it’s not because I didn’t trust you–”

“I know, Lara. It’s because you wanted to keep it yours. I get it.” The smile on Frankie’s face was a lot more genuine now, “but I’m still mad at you. And whatever this is, I expect it when I’m back.” She laughed, referring to Lara’s full kiss ass mode. 

The two hugged before Frankie walked out the door leaving Lara and Angel in the apartment by themselves. 

“That could’ve gone worse!” Angel said, standing up from the stool. 

“That could’ve gone better.” Lara said with an eye roll. 

“Well, I’m sure a couple hours of sleep will make you feel better.” Angel was practically begging to go back to bed. 

“You can go back to bed but I have tons of shit I need to get done.” Lara started picking through the cabinet under the sink for cleaning supplies. 

“What?” Angel frowned and looked at what Lara was doing. 

“I’m in full damage control mode, I’m gonna clean her room, like really clean her room and do her laundry.” Lara said in an obvious way like Angel should have known better. “Why don’t you go home, crash, and call me when you’re up, I’ll come over and we can stay at your place tonight. Give Frankie some space.” 

Angel was genuinely baffled and confused but knew better than to argue with the girl. “Sure, you don’t need help cleaning?” 

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll be good.” Lara smiled as Angel bent down and placed a kiss on her head.

Cleaning was actually pretty therapeutic for Lara, it gave her time to clear her head while also going through some thoughts and feelings she needed to sort out, doing this for Frankie felt like the right thing. She honestly didn’t hide it because she thought Frankie would tell Bishop it was exactly what Frankie said, she wanted it to be just her and Angel’s thing. No outside sway or opinions. It was dark by the time Angel called, Lara knew he had probably been up for a while and got called into club stuff, she didn’t mind, it gave her more time around the house. 

Now at Angel’s, the two of them were knocked out on the couch, both catching up on the hours they missed from the night prior. Hours must’ve passed by just with the TV playing overnight in the background while the two laid snoring on the couch. An alarm went off on someones phone, causing both of them to stir awake, both a little frightened while they searched for the source of the noise. 

“It’s not mine.” Angel said his voice groggy and raspy. 

“It’s mine, I have a shift. It’s already 7AM.” Lara sighed and plopped back down against Angel who had already tried to go back to sleep. 

“Call out.” Angel mumbled. 

“I wish, I need the money. I’m gonna shower.” Lara wasn’t exactly speaking at anything higher than a mumble either. “Please can you make me coffee?” 

The groan from Angel’s throat was one of annoyance but not one of defiance so Lara knew she’d have a hot cup of coffee when she got out of the shower which is what motivated her to get up in the first place. “Thank you.” 

______

“I don’t know what you did to get water pressure like that but I’m demanding you come to our apartment and do it to our shower.” Lara said as she walked through Angel’s house in one of his flannels and her hair wet ready for a coffee. 

To Lara’s surprise, Angel wasn’t alone, she walked right into the living room where EZ was with the biggest grin on his face. 

“Hi Lara.” He smiled from ear to ear. 

“Prospect.” She rolled her eyes, no need to hide now. If Frankie didn’t tell him, she eventually would have and there was no going back from or denying her swimming in Angel’s clothes. 

Angel had a cup of coffee in his hand and handed one to Lara. “EZ brought coffee, you can have mine.”

“If I knew you were gonna have company I would have brought three, or not come at all.” The grin on EZ’s face was getting bigger as he spoke, he wanted to boast and tell Angel every version of ‘I told you so’ that he could. 

Lara took two sips from the cup and handed it back to Angel. “Here I just needed a jolt, I gotta get ready and head out anyways, I’ll grab something on the way.” And before she could even let either of them respond she was running back into Angel’s room and tossing her all black hostess outfit on and tying her hair back. 

As the two boys stood alone in the living room, EZ wiggled his eyebrows at Angel which earned him a light shove and ‘shut the fuck up’ before Lara reappeared in the room. 

“Sorry to leave like this, thanks for the coffee sips.” She stood up on her tip toes to grab Angel’s head and leave a kiss on his lips before grabbing her purse off the hooks and going to the door to leave. “Bye EZ!” 

Now both the men were truly alone in Angel’s house, there was a couple seconds of silence before EZ spoke up. 

“So should I say I told you so, I was right, or something else? I’ll let you come up with it even, it can be a joint effort.” EZ was still grinning from ear to ear. 

“Man, shut up.” Angel turned to grab his kutte from the hooks. “I thought you needed me for club shit.” 

“I do, but this is just my reward for having to play hide n seek with the fuckin’ club. No one answers their phone this early.” 

“Yea bro, it’s 7 fuckin AM.” Angel’s eyebrows raised as he placed his kutte on and grabbed the coffee back to chug half of it down. “Come on let’s go.” 

“Yo,” EZ said as they started to head out themselves. “Don’t fuck this shit up.” It was serious, he wasn’t grinning anymore, it was coming from a genuine place. 

“Don’t go saying shit at the club, aight? Bish doesn’t know and I’m gonna let Lara tell me how she wants to deal with that.” Angel yelled back at his little brother and paused before speaking up again. 

“And I’m not gonna fuck it up.”

#mayans #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fanfiction #Angel Reyes x OC #ezekiel reyes x oc #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #angel reyes #my oc #oc lara losa #oc frankie loza #contaminated #contaminatedfic