#anyways my mom is punishing me for planning to move out soon by refusing to celebrate my birthday and I am a bit sad about it :c

[wooblesnya]

me when it’s my birthday

[nightshade-minho]

MOONSTORM [ iii ]

You know that feeling when you know you’ve made a terrible mistake?

Yes. That feeling.

It’s a feeling that never really goes away. You had to learn that the hard way.

Irrevocable actions, stupid mistakes. You were heart-wrenchingly familiar with all of it.

To err was human apparently. You...weren’t human, though.

It seems like being superhuman was insignificant, after all. At the end of the day, nothing mattered. None of your powers did.

Despite it all, you still lost him.

warnings: depressing shit (it gets better though dw) mentions of death, violence, sexual content, future smut

wc: 2.8k

moonstorm masterlist

It felt like the world had lost all color.

It had happened so many months ago, and yet it still felt like it happened just yesterday. The memories of stumbling out of his lair, covered in his blood and your tears, still fresh in your mind.

The image of his face, betrayed and yet so calm as he uttered those last words to you...it haunted you constantly.

You found yourself looking at the moon every night, dreaming about what could have been. The nightmares endlessly plagued your sleep as well, causing you to fear even your own bed.

No...even after Hyunjin's effects on you wore off, your own brain took on the responsibility of torturing you by conjuring up more heartbreaking dreams. Dreams which made you long for something you knew you’d lost forever- never to be yours again.

You never truly realized how much you’d gotten used to having him around. Life was so glaringly empty and meaningless without him. It was a complicated relationship…and yet it still left a giant hole in you. An all-encompassing despair that threatened to swallow you up.

With him gone, it just didn’t feel right to be a superhero anymore. How could you be the strong role model for everyone in the city to rely on when you knew just how weak you’d become? Even when the newspapers were covered with your heroics, even as the mayor addressed the city and expressed his desire to give you a medal for stopping yet another supervillain from roaming the streets- you stubbornly refused to don that costume ever again.

You stayed hidden through it all. You just couldn’t bring yourself to go out in public anymore. Your vigilante costume lay forgotten in the back of your closet- crumpled and sad.

It just...felt wrong. At the moment you felt nothing but pathetic. You didn’t have time to waste saving a snotty kitten stuck on a tree or stop a petty criminal from robbing a bank- all you were fit to do was eat ice cream straight from the can, and watch a soulless movie. The same routine, day in and day out. You hadn’t left your apartment in nearly a month, not even to buy groceries. Every second was spent wrapped up in blankets, pondering what you’d done.

Was that selfish of you? Probably. You were discovering new flaws by the second.

Sighing, you sat up a little, your ass almost numb from how long you’d spent lying down. Glancing up, you saw your father’s portrait looking down at you. You swallowed and slowly stood up from your bed, groaning to yourself. Why did he suddenly seem so disappointed?

Maybe a little bit of fresh air is what you needed, considering you were starting to believe the paintings were changing expressions. After all, you had work to do anyway- might as well take advantage of the nearby café’s free WiFi.

***

Here at last.

You sat down in the corner of the café, so tired you could barely move a muscle. But you had to get a move on with your life- the recovery should have happened by now.

And yet here you were, months later. Nothing seemed to be able to fill the hole he left behind, and even now you wished you could go back home as soon as possible.

Had it...had it been a mistake?

Of course it had. Your misery was evidence, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could convince yourself that you’d done it for the good of the city.

The truth was... Hwang Hyunjin scared you.

He made you feel things, made you want to be someone else entirely. Every ounce of rigidity and austerity you’d imposed in yourself disappeared every time you were with him. He made you want to give everything up- give up all the responsibilities and burdens you carried on your shoulders to be with him. To be like him- free.

It wasn’t Hyunjin who was a threat to the city. No, not directly.

It was you- or rather the lack of you.

This city needed you to survive, and if Hyunjin managed to change you...it surely wouldn’t have lasted long without your help. Hyunjin had never really been the city’s biggest threat- there were far worse villains and it was them who you really fought against.

He was more of just an inconvenience, someone you had to deal with from time to time. And then he’d struck that deal- after which the nature of your relationship had turned into something entirely different.

Every time he acted up, it was usually just a ploy to get your attention. And attention was exactly what he got. You’d reinforced his behavior like an idiot.

You told yourself it was a chore, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d loved spending those nights in his bed, loved the way he was an expert at making you come undone with his body and his words.

It really had seemed like a good idea at the time. The right thing to do. However, it was quickly starting to seem like anything but.

You sighed as your mind tried its best not to travel back all those months. Dipping a teabag into the liquid, you mindlessly observed the customers in the cafe. Many of them were young, teenagers who were heading out before class.

You sighed as you recalled your own high school days, the times Hyunjin and you had hung out in a cafe much like this one.

“You don’t have to help me with this project, you know.”

“Ah, shush. It’s our final year. I’m not going to leave you alone.” He smiled as he flipped through his books, taking a sip of his coffee occasionally.

“You act like you’re not sticking to me like white on rice the rest of the year.” You roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself.

“Don’t get snippy with me, missy.” He smirked, still thumbing the pages nonchalantly. “Or I’ll have to punish you.”

“You- I- what?” You wouldn’t admit it, but the thought caused a fluttering sensation in more than one place. It was a little bit of a shock, considering the two of you had done nothing more than make out and flirt, until now.

“Chill. I’m kidding.” He shook his head, looking up at you. “Unless…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Stop it! I’m supposed to be working right now.” You whined, swatting him with a rolled up paper.

“I don’t care.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Hm...do you know what I’m thinking of right now, Y/n?”

“W-what?”

“Thinking about how easy it would be to slip my fingers under your skirt and play with that pretty pussy of yours. I’m pretty sure it’s soaked your underwear through by now.”

Fuck.

Your cheeks flushed as you stared at your plate. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond properly- his mere words had already turned you to a mess.

“S-shut up.” You mumbled, reading out formulas aloud as you tried to divert your attention from it. Hyunjin let out a teasing chuckle at your lame attempt to change the topic, shaking his head as he stared at his book again, unaware you were looking over your own at him, pressing your thighs together subtly.

God, he was so...so annoying.

You snapped out of it, sighing as you looked around at the much less crowded cafe. Had it always looked so dull? So lifeless?

The thought of him was hurtful- it felt like a dull knife, screwing itself into you. Reminding you what you’d done.

You’d killed the love of your life.

And now? There was no way to bring him back.

***

“Murder is never something a superhero should resort to. A good hero always stays true to themselves- they only kill if it’s absolutely necessary.”

A cough.

“But of course...villains are exempt from that rule. Killing one villain’s life could save countless others.”

Hm. You weren’t exactly sure if your father was right. Although you were just a child, you still had some knowledge of morality.

Was he? Killing just...seemed wrong. You didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it, no matter how evil the person was.

“Surely there are other ways to neutralize someone evil, Father?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, before shaking his head coldly. “Untrue.”

“The truth is, some lives are expendable, my dear Y/n…” Another cough, before he cleared his throat and fixed his gaze back on you.

“You must always look for the greater good.”

***

You still remembered the day you first met Hyunjin.

He was 13, and you were just a little younger. Your families were good comrades and allies, so your eventual meeting had already been planned.

The two of you were in the living room with everyone else as they talked to each other, mingling and chattering like adults usually did. Hyunjin and you made an unanimous decision to sneak out to the rooftop, and get to know each other better.

“So...our parents are allies now, hm? This means we’re going to see each other a lot more.”

“Of course we are! We’re both prodigies, like my dad and your mom...we inherited their powers, so they’re obviously going to want to cultivate those.”

“You speak pretty fancy for a 12 year old.”

“Hey, so do you! Besides, we’re gifted, aren’t we?”

“Hm.” He sighed, swinging his legs and inhaling. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up again.

“Do you actually like having these powers?”

“Oh? Well, yeah...I do...my father tells me stories of his days as a superhero. I want to help people, just like him.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d much rather live a normal life. Get a normal job, find someone to love, and have a normal marriage in a normal town.”

You pressed your lips together. “To each their own, I guess. Personally, I just want to get rid of all the evil in the world and make my father proud.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Evil…” He tapped his chin. “How does one even know the difference between good and evil?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I’m pretty sure it would be obvious in every situation.”

“I disagree. The distinction is blurry. No one knows for sure, and definitely not at first glance.” He sighed. “I would know.”

You brought your knees to your chest as you observed the city below. “Well, I guess you’re right…” you paused, your heart feeling a little heavy for some reason.

“Do you know?”

“The line between good and evil is thin, Y/n. I can’t say I know for sure. But do you know what will always help you remember?”

“What?”

“Your heart.” He said softly, glancing at you and offering you a small smile.

“Just do whatever feels right...trust yourself.”

***

You sighed and shut your laptop.

Home. You needed to go home, cause your heart ached too much. You definitely weren’t ready to go back to work yet. You hadn’t done anything productive today really, just drink coffee and reflect on your actions. Regretting....regretting it all.

It’d been wrong. The wrong choice, the wrong decision.

You knew that, now. There could have been another way. You shouldn’t have rushed into it like that...how could you?

You felt a surge of hatred towards yourself engulf you. It was all your fault, this pain you were feeling. You didn’t have anyone to direct this immense anger towards except yourself. You realized this little fact in horror, your heart clenching as you wished things could have been different.

Finishing off your coffee, you placed a few bills on the table as you left the café, heading home. Ready to burrow under the blankets again, wallow in your self pity and pain. There wasn’t much else to do except succumb to acceptance.

You made your way down the street, humming the saddest song you knew under your breath.

All of a sudden, you felt eyes burning into your back. Your own eyes widening slightly, you turned around quickly-

But there was no one there.

Weird. Sighing, you decided to go back to going over your plans for tonight in your mind.

Maybe watch a movie in hopes of triggering some sort of emotion in you...or maybe take a bath, light some candles and listen to depressing music- shit.

It happened again. Someone was following you- you could feel it. Uncomfortable, your breathing slowly started getting heavier as you tried to formulate some kind of plan in your head-

The next thing that happened was so sudden you barely registered it for a second.

Your hand was gripped, so tightly you felt it would bruise. Aggressive, shocking and swift as lightning- it took several seconds before you realized someone was trying to kidnap you.

“Stop! Leave me alone!”

Struggling against the person holding you, you caught a glimpse of the masked man and decided to scream, hoping to gain some attention from somebody, anybody. There was no way this was happening, not right now. Your day had already been bad enough, why was the universe so intent on rubbing salt in your wounds?!

The urge to fight had never been stronger. Yet there was no strength left in your body. You couldn’t fight back against this man- he was taller than you and somehow even matched you in strength. Unless you exposed your powers, there was no way you would get yourself out of this predicament. Somehow you managed to smack him with your arm weakly, making him hiss.

“Let me go, please!”

The coffee cup fell out of your hand, brown liquid spilling all over the ground as you were pulled into the dark alley so quickly, no one would notice. Your eyes darted about in panic, trying to work out a possible escape route when the masked man caged you in, his arms on either side of you.

A horrible sense of déjà vu enveloped you. It’s all you can do to not scream, trying to keep yourself calm so that you could escape.

It’s ok, breathe in...and concentrate.

The heat within you started to crackle, your palms beginning to burn up gradually.

Your eyes blinked as you decided to try and take a good look at the person holding you. Their head was covered with a black mask, their finger held over their mouth as they ran their eyes over your distressed expression.

Inhale. Exhale.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed, staying still and pretending to give up the struggle. “Unhand me now, or you’ll regret it, trust me-“

“Shh! Y/n, please…” He shushed you, his voice shaky.

You stopped in your tracks.

Huh?

That voice…

“I’ll explain... but first we need to get out of here, fuck-” He looked from side to side quickly, scanning his surroundings.

Shit. Why does that voice sound so familiar?

“Who- who are you?!” You managed to get out, the heat fading away as deep, panicked confusion took over you instead.

There was a small sigh as your assailant stood up a little straighter, groaning. And then, his fingers deftly pulled the mask off, clutching it in his hands tightly.

Golden locks spilled out, a handsome visage coming into view. Plump lips and beautiful eyes, looking oh so familiar.

No.

No.

It couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual fuck was going on?

It’s him.

But it can’t be.

How? It’s not possible-

You’re definitely losing your mind.

The man’s breathing got quicker as he watched your expression morph from fear into one of pure, electric shock.

“I know you’re shocked, Y/n, but please listen to-“

Your chest started heaving, quickly rising and falling as your heart pounded against your rib cage.

This...could not be happening. What was this? Was this a nightmare? Yet another sick, twisted dream? He couldn’t be standing right in front of you...it was impossible. No. No no no no no no no.

It was all too overwhelming, and your brain and body seemed to agree on that. Your mind swam, your thoughts all over the place as you felt yourself sway on your feet.

“This- I-“ You stumbled over your words, tears slipping past quickly as you tried to form words to express what you felt.

Pain. Searing pain, taking over, spreading from head to toe.

Your breathing slowed as the world suddenly went black, Hyunjin’s shouts in the background fading away...until there was nothing but silence.

Pure, unadulterated silence.

[yourgalaxy]

Pairing: Taehyung x female O/C

Genre: Fluffyest Fluffy Fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint really hard.

Summary: After getting used to the idea of just being her and her little daughter against the world. Autumn is proven wrong once again when fate has different plans for them.

Warnings: None

A/N: The original prompt is from @hybridfanfiction ( their prompts are the cutest, check them out!) This is my first attempt on sharing some of my work and is also my first hybrid fic. I love the reader inserts but not a fan of the Y/N type thing so feel free to just imagine your name instead if you prefer! I have material to make this a series but will leave it as a one shot for now to see if you guys like it! I totally don't own the gifts.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. Read at your own risk 😂

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

A smile spread across her face as she listened to her little beam of sunshine’s effusive explanation of her adventures with her imaginary hybrid friend Tata, the girl’s imagination never ceased to amaze her mother. It was definitely a trait that she got from her Father, she thought with a certain melancholy in her eyes.

‘’ And then, last time, Toby was being really mean, he said that I was weird and pulled my hair, but Tata growled at him a little bit and he ran away. Isn't he the best Mama?" - Her little eyes twinkled with adoration, Autumn's first instinct was to coo at her cuteness but something of what she said sent alarms to her mind.- "Haneul, honey, are kids being rude to you at school?" - Having her daughter being bullied at school because of her heritage was one of her biggest fears-

" Mmm… sometimes, but after Tata saved me, they haven't! - She smiled the brightest smile, and Autumn felt a knot clog her throat and dread wash over her stomach. She forced a smile at the best of her ability while nodding and made a mental note to talk with the teachers at the end of the day. She would transfer her daughter to another kindergarten if needed.- ‘’ Ok, honey bear, we are here. Remember that I’m picking you up earlier today for your dentist’s appointment. - Haneul immediately sulked at the prospect, murmuring indecipherable complaints under her breath, but she still kissed her mom’s cheek before running off when she caught the sight of her favorite teacher.-

Autumn waved at the teacher, answering to her smile with one of her own as the teacher was dragged away by an enthusiastic Haneul. Just for the time being she decided to put her worries aside and tend to some of the urgent matters at hand. Jimin and Jin were driving her insane by the minute, her phone buzzing every 2 minutes as if they were taking turns to annoy her.

‘’ You know perfectly fine that I need to drop Haneul at school every day, Jimin!’’ - Was her response as she heard the whiney complaints from the other side of the line, she assured that she would be there in a few minutes with a roll of her eyes before she hanged up.

She loved her friends with her whole heart, they were the ones that pulled her through when Haneul’s dad decided to abandon her while she was pregnant with their daughter, If it wasn't for them and Haneul herself, she wouldn’t be where she is at… But they were, a lot of the time, pains in the butt.

The store was a battlefield once she got there, flowers and decorations scattered everywhere, and a very stressed out Jungkook running around under the direction of an even more stressed out Jimin. They looked at her as if she was some kind of savior before throwing themselves to her arms once they realized she had arrived. She could just roll her eyes at their antics before getting down to work.

‘’ Ok, I’m out!’’ - She announced, after they finally handed out the last piece of arrangements for the wedding, the event was a really big project and she was relieved that everything turned out ok, the customer was more than ecstatic with the results, and there were really few things that gave Autumn more satisfaction than a happy customer.-

‘’ But Noona…’’ - Came Jimin’s protest as an instant response. But it died out quickly when she turned around sharply and Jin put his hand over his mouth to quiet him down. She could be a little scary when tired. Jin thought the younger boy should know better, having been her friend for so long. - ‘’ Go ahead, and bring Haneul over to my place afterwards, we miss our little bundle of joy, I’ll cook dinner for all of us! Maybe I could convince Yoongi to come and bring Hobi with him’’ - Jin requested and the other two agreed with eager nods, Autumn smiled lovingly, she truly had the best of friends. She assured that she would be back quickly as she made her way out of the flower store that Jin and her had opened together. The last thing she heard, a chorus of ‘’By noona’s’’ and ‘’I love you’s’’ ringing one over the other, that made her smile grow even bigger. She truly loved the punks.

‘’ I’m here to pick Haneul up for her dentists appointment’’ - The teacher nodded knowingly, with a small smile, apparently HaNeul had been complaining to all that would lend an ear about the terrifying encounter with a robot monster that she would have to go through that day. Autumn could just chuckle at her daughter's dramatics. - ‘’ Also, is Mrs. Lee, around today? I need to talk with her about some worries of mine’’ - The teacher sent her a worried look as she sensed the discomfort in Autumn’s tone but after she assured her that it wasn’t something too serious, she explained that the principal wasn’t available at the moment. Autumn would have to call her. She had known Mrs. Lee for a long time anyways.-

Following the direction of the young teacher that had to leave her on her own to attend one of the kids with a little potty emergency, Autumn made her way to the playground where all the kids were taking lunch break. After a few minutes, she spotted the light haired girl sitting over one of the farest corners close to the fence. Her heart dropped as she started to come closer and noticed who her little girl was talking so excitedly to, she couldn't believe her eyes, the school was not just reckless about bullying but they also let the kids unsupervised where they could be approached by strangers?

The stranger was munching on a half sandwich, the other half on Haneul’s hand remained untouched as she bounced on her place, there was a soft smile on the man’s face as he seemed to intently listen to her daughter. As Autumn came closer, her steps slowed down as she realized that HaNeul was actually talking with a hybrid, the male seemed to be younger than her, probably around Jimin’s age, but he was so skinny and dirty that he could easily pass for someone younger. Her heart hurt for him.

She noticed some movement that made her nervous but before her quickening steps took her close enough, a scene that horrified her took place before her eyes.

A group of kids came running with piles of mud gathered on their hands, one of them quickly throwing some in Haneul’s direction. A scream died on Autumn’s throat, unable to really comprehend what had happened before the kids ran away from the scene. The man that her daughter had been feeding for weeks now, the same one that she thought was just an imaginary friend, had jumped over the fence standing in between the projectile of mud and her daughter’s little body, staring down the mean boys until they had left the scene running.

‘’ MAMMA!’’ - Before having much time to react, Autumn felt the little body crash against her leg. HaNeul’s flushed little face was stained with drying tears as she explained how the mean boys had attacked her friend and asked her to help him out. Autumn took her in her arms, hugging her and whispering comforting words to calm her down. She started walking towards the Hybrid who was awkwardly standing in the same spot, mud dripping down his right leg, she noticed now that he was standing, how much taller than her he was. Once Haneul noticed her mom wasn't moving any more, she turned her head to face her friend and dedicated a watery smile towards him that he struggled to reciprocate. Autumn could sense the fear emanating from him.

‘’ Look, Tata! It’s my momma, isn’t she super pretty?!’’ - Haneul’s eyes sparkled with innocence, the hybrid timidly nodded in response and Autumn noticed a cute blush spreading across his cheeks. -

‘’ Hey there…’’ - Autumn started but was quickly interrupted by the terrified hybrid’s frenetic attempt to explain himself.- ‘’ I’m really sorry, I tried to refuse but she was so kind and her sandwich smelled really good. I… Please don’t report me, I’ll take any kind of punishment, but please don’t call Hybrid control.’’ - His deep voice ended up as a whimpery whisper as he begged her. Autumn felt her stomach drop and her mouth dried out, she felt like crying for the pitiful state of the boy in front of her. -

‘’ Sorry, but I have no intention to report or punish you whatsoever. I actually wanted to thank you for protecting Haneul, It makes me happy that she has a friend like you.’’ - His fluffy ears twitched in her direction as soon as she started talking but as she called him her daughter’s friend, his eyes jumped to her face, trying to look for any sign of hostility, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he took in the soft smile that she was dedicating him. - ‘’ I’m Autumn, an it’s a pleasure to finally meet you Tata!’’ - She extended her arm, patiently waiting for him to shake her hand. He hesitated for a few minutes before timidly taking her hand in his for a second of two. - ‘’ My name is actually Taehyung’’ - He softly corrected, the blush coming back to his sunken cheeks, making Autumn smile even brighter -

‘’ Well, Taehyung, if you don’t have anything else to do today, I would love to invite you for lunch to thank you for helping Haneul, you could come and wash out all the mud from the attack too if you would like.’’ - She suggested but he was nodding before she could even finish the idea. -

‘’ ¡Oh, my gosh! Mrs. Kim, I am so sorry, I don’t really know how he got here, the kids told me about what happened, I’m calling Hybrids control right now.’’ - The panicked voice of Haneul’s teacher caught their attention, Taehyung immediately flinching back with a loud whimper at the mention of hybrid control, pleading no’s flowing out of his mouth incessantly as he started backing away slowly. Haneul started crying out to him,but before things escalated too much, Autumn, lowered the teacher’s hand that was holding the phone. -

‘’It won’t be necessary, Miss Kang. Taehyung here is a friend of ours’’ - Autumn assured, making both the teacher and the Hybrid freeze on spot. She then gestured for Taehyung to come closer, Haneul reaching for his hand as soon as he was close enough. - ‘’ If you could just let Mrs. Lee know that I will be calling her, that would be awesome! - She requested before leaving the scene with the boy that already felt like the new addition to her family. 

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

For the Fairy tale au what about yandere prince!giorno with cinderella!reader? Giorno could convince everyone he's rescuing them from their life. Or you could do yandere prince giorno with sleeping beauty reader, where reader doesn't wake up after being kissed, instead waking up in the palace chained up. Naturally if you don't like this request feel free to ignore it, or if you want to use other characters that's fine too. I hope you feel better soon! Your mental health is important!

Thanks for your support anyway here it is.

Prince charming

(yandere Giorno Giovanna X Female Reader)

You were always a happy and humble girl. You always looked towards the bright side of any situation, even after all the hardships you had faced. To you every day was a new beginning

You let out a sigh as you wiped the sweat off your forehead and marveled at the marble floor that you had spent hours cleaning only for it so all be ruined when you stepmother and stepsisters walked all over it with their dirty shoes.

"I can't wait for the ball, to meet the prince would be a dream" Abigail mused as she twirled in her beautiful dress.

"Oh just imagine it, the sweet music that would play as you looked into his saphire eyes" Teresa wooed as she followed her sister.

"What's happening?" You asked them and they gave you a look of disgust.

"None of your business cinderface!" They spat.

"Oh dear girls don't be so harsh on her, we should at least give her a chance" your step mother spoke in such a sweet voice.

"What?!" The twins gasped in horror, none of you had ever heard her speak so nicely to you.

"She can come... But only if she cleans through the whole mansion... And manages to get herself a suitable dress before Friday afternoon" she said and your stepsisters cracked up while you felt you stomach twist, you only had three days.

🐞🐞🐞

You watched your step relatives from the attic window that you had just cleaned. Today your sisters had planned to get their dresses and of course you weren't included in such affairs, you never were and you didn't mind it. You were just content with the few little things around you.

Even if you were able to go to the ball. The prince wouldn't spare a moment for a housemaid like you but still some sort of urge to see the prince in person was there, maybe you just wanted to see the male in which your step sisters gushed over.

You were soon brought out of your thoughts by a sudden thud. You wiped your head to the side to see that one of the many boxes  had falled off of one of the shelves. You walked to it and flipped it over to put the fabric back inside only to find it was a dress with a large sum of money folded in it as well as an envelope with your name.

You opened it to see the old letter, the paper yellowed with age.

To my dear (Y/n)

This is my present to you on your eighteenth birthday.

I wish you the most luck my blessed child and I wish I could have watched you grow up to be the beautiful woman you are today but alas while I write this letter to you my body grows weak and my memories slowly fade.

I love you and even thou I am no longer alive my soul still watches over you.

From your loving mother

Your eyes began to tear up as you finished the letter. You missed your parents. They use to shower you with their love and attention. This seemed like a sign that you mother was watching over you. The dress itself was a bit old and plain but with the money you could buy some stuff to make alterations.

You quickly finished cleaning up the attic before putting the dress on a mannequin and placing it in your room before grabbing the money and leaving the house to go to the nearby town and buying anything you thought would look nice to add to the dress.

Once you got home you quickly finished up the rest of the duties with a whole day to spare.

🐞🐞🐞

The day of the ball arrived and you grew ever so excited for the night to come. You helped your step sisters get into their gowns, of course they had to make a huge fuss about how you weren't doing something right but it didn't bother you in the slightest.

"So (Y/n) did you manage to get yourself a dress?" Teresa snickered.

"Yes I did actually" you replied which caused her to nearly choke on air.

"Really now (Y/n)... Care to show us?" Your step mother asked in a cynical tone.

"Of course" you replied before going to your room and changed into it before coming back in to show them.

"Where did you get that from?" Abigail asked in a snarky tone.

"In the attic I found a box with this dress in it along with some money, so I used it to make a few alterations" you explained.

"So you stole from me?" Your step mother hissed.

"No I'd never do such a thing, in the box was a letter from my mother... It was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday present" you explained as she stormed towards you.

"Lies! After all I've done for you!" She screamed as she ripped the sleeve of your dress.

"You're nothing but a disrespectful brat!" She said as she tackled you to the ground and began to tear your dress to shreds.

"You are nothing but a thief!" She  roared as she got up before fixing up your hair.

"Abigail, Teresa. We will be leaving to the ball now" she sighed.

"And as for you (Y/n)... You will be punished for what you have done when we return" she hissed as she along with her daughters left the room as they made their way to the carriage waiting for them, leaving you as a teary mess on the floor.

You cried and cried, uncertain as to why you'd be accuse of such a thing. Until a bright light emitted from the room. When you looked up you saw an orb of light like a giant star.

"Dry your tears my dear...you have done no wrong" a ghostly voice said.

"What are you?" You asked only for the voice to let out a light chuckle.

"I promised you my soul would watch over your my child" they replied.

"Mother?" You asked.

"Yes it's me dear, now I wish to help you"

"But how?" You asked.

"Come to the garden, then I'll tell you what I need" she replied before floating out the room.

You stood up and began to follow the orb of light though the house until you entered the garden.

"Now my dear. I need you to find me a pumpkin, a frog and four mice" she explained. You did have doubt in catching the animals she had requested but it seemed that they instantly came towards you.

"I see the animals can sense that you have a pure heart, they seem eager to help" your mother explained. You quickly ran to the vegetable garden and picked out the largest pumpkin. You struggled to carry it but you absolutely refused to drop it.

"I have everything mom, what now?" You asked before the pumpkin in your hand turned to solid gold causing you to drop it and it quickly grew til it was the size of a shed. Then it morphed into a carriage, the mice turned into horses and the frog turned into a stumpy little man. You nearly fell back in suprise but some invisible force caught you.

Your dress mended itself and turned into a beautiful white  gown, a pair of glass heels slipped onto your feet and a white mask appeared on your face.

"Now (Y/n) before you head to the ball you must understand two conditions, the spell will wear of at the stroke of midnight and if your mask is removed then the spell will also fade" she said before the stumpy man lead you to the carriage.

"Thank you mother" you said to the wisp before you hopped in.

🐞🐞🐞

You looked out the window as the carriage approached the castle that loomed in the distance. It was like a fairy tale, it was like you were in a fairy tale. The carriage eventually halted and a servant escorted you into the castle grounds where many chatted away.

"Wow your dress is so beautiful miss" a familiar voice said. You turned your head to see Teresa.

"Who made it?" Abigail asked, obviously the two didn't realise it was you.

"My mother made it" you replied and the two girls laughed.

"You just like our step sister" Teresa said.

"She does, but we know your not her... She couldn't get a dress like that" Abigail snickered before they walked of.

'That was a close call' you thought, maybe the mask was magic or maybe the two were just stupid but you thanked God they hadn't noticed.

You simply watched as men and women danced the night away, sitting by the sidelines until someone tapped your shoulder.

"What is a beautiful woman such as yourself standing around here, surely someone would ask you to dance with them" asked the male beside you who's hair was like strands of gold and eyes were like sapphires.

"This is my first time attending a ball" you explained to him.

"Really?" The male asked in suprise.

"Yes... I'm but a simple house maid" you explained.

"Then would you care to dance with me?" He asked.

"Oh, I haven't danced in years... I don't want to make you look like a fool Infront of everyone" you said.

"Who said we had to dance in the ball room" the male replied as he led you away from the crowd and up the winding stairs until you reached an atrium where various plants grew and flowers bloomed in every corner.

"I can teach you how to dance" the male said in a sweet voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Place your hands on my shoulders" he guided and you followed.

"Good, now when I step back you should step forward and vice versa"  he said and you tried to follow his but eventually stepped on his foot.

"Ow" he groaned.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"No you don't need to apologize, I know you didn't mean to... It's just part of the learning process" he chuckled before you tried again and in no time more you breezed through the complex moves. You both danced and danced until you saw your stepmother watching you from a distance, you were about to speak up until the male pressed his lips against yours and you quickly pushed him away.

"Senorita, what's the matter?" He asked.

"We only just met..." You muttered.

"But can't you feel our connection? When I first laid eyes on you I felt in, love at first sight" he explained.

"No... Such a thing only exists in fairytales" you responded.

"Well let it be our fairytale... You should stay with me, as my princess... You'll never have to go back to being a house maid" he said in such a sickeningly sweet tone as he tried to get you back in his hands, but you kept backing away.

"No... No!" You argued before making a run for it.

"Wait, please wait!" He called as he followed you.

"No I can't be with you! It isn't right for either of us" you yelled back as your ran down the stairs case, one of your glass slippers falling off in the process, you quickly tried to retrieve it but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Don't be like this" he cooed before trying to take your mask off but as he did it began to crack like china. You pushed away from him again and tried to run. You pushed through the crowd desperately and tried to reach the the exit but the guards quickly grabbed you.

"Let me go! I don't want this!" You screamed on the top of you lungs. All eyes were on you in astonishment as you were being dragged to the prince.

"Cara mia, please don't make a scene" the male said as you were pushed towards him however in that moment a miracle happened, a chandelier fell down between you and the Prince. You took your chance to run as the guards let go of you. You finally got through the door and ran to the carriage with not a care to the rubble that pierced your bare foot as the ring of the clock began to count down to the stroke of midnight. The carriage only got you so far until everything reverted to its original form but it was enough for you to get away from the castle.

🐞🐞🐞

You woke up the next morning and headed to the kitchen to cook breakfast only to find a stranger already preparing it.

"Who are you?" You asked the lady.

"I'm the new house maid" she replied.

"Wait since-" you were quickly silenced by your stepmother.

"We were never short on money... I was just so greedy that I didn't want to pay for a house maid" your stepmother said in a guilty tone.

"I'm so sorry for being so harsh on you for all these years... After seeing the way you charmed prince Giovanna I realised that I treated you so unfairly" he said as she stroked your hair, the mentioning of the prince.

"Please... Don't let anyone find out" you pleaded.

"I won't, but I don't understand why you wouldn't leave us after all the terrible things we did to you?" she said

"I was fine with living the life I had, I know that others may have it worse off... all I wanted to do that night was see a real ball, not attract the attention of a lovesick prince" you explained before she took you to the dinning room.

🐞🐞🐞

From there all seemed good, your step relatives treated you kindly and your step mother had plans for you all to move to a nicer mansion outside of the kingdom.

You had packed up the last of your belongings when someone had knocked on the door, naturally you opened it, your poor heart nearly exploded as you saw prince Giovanna at your doorstep along with two of his guards.

"Good morning" the male greeted as he held the glass slipper you lost.

"Go...good morning your majesty" you stuttered as you bowed Infront of him.

"You seem suprised, I'm sure you must of heard that every woman in the kingdom is obligated to try on the glass slipper" he said.

"No, no it's just that you caught us in the middle of packing but I'm sure my sister's will be down any minute" you explained as you tried to get your sisters but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Then why don't you try it on while we wait for them" he said in a stern tone as his hold on you grew tighter.

"I wasn't at the ball... I twisted my ankle" you lied.

"Then let me see" he asked. Bit your lip as you forcedly twisted your ankle, you tried your best to hide the pain before showing him your leg.

"See, it's twisted" you said causing the male to sigh.

"I see then" he said before looking up to see your sisters who were more then eager to try on the slipper, however you noticed the droplets of blood that  trailed behind them. Abigail had cut off her big toe and Teresa had cut off the back of her heel, both in an attempt to make up for their cruelty towards you for all these years.

They sat down. Abigail was the first to try on the slipper and it fit the the prince's delight but as the prince looked at the shoe on her foot more closely he saw the blood.

"Are you mocking me!" The male growled at her causing her to cower away. Then Teresa tried it on and it fit but one of the guards soon pointed out the blood that dripped from the back of the shoe which enraged the prince.

"You both think you can play with my heart! the girl that I desire did not try to impress me!" He hissed with a voice full of venom. You just hoped that that was the end of it and he would just leave but you quickly noticed one of the guards had vanished, how long had he been gone for?

Soon they had returned with the other glass slipper which made your blood freeze.

"Well then... It seems we have the other slipper, since your other foot is fine (Y/n) why don't you try it?" He asked.

"I'd rather not" you said before the two guards forced you to sit, holding you in place as the prince placed the shoe on your foot, a perfect fit.

"Why did you put me on a wild goose chase to find you?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to marry you, love at first sight in madness!" You explained.

"Well I think your just too modest for your own good, or maybe your family have a role in this" he explained as an evil gleam formed in your eye.

"You mentioned you were a housemaid if I remember correctly... But you are meant to be a noble in blood, am I correct?" He asked.

You gave the prince no response.

"Did your step relatives work you like a slave?" He asked again.

"No-"

"They treated you below them did they not?" He asked again as he cut off your previous answer. You gave him no response as you looked away from him.

"Your step sisters tried to rob you of a happily ever after" he said.

"They probably made you feel unworthy of love" he continued.

"Stop it! They had nothing to do with it!" You screamed.

"You're just a poor degraded mess... You don't know even know your true worth" he explained before he planted a kiss on your lips.

"Don't worry I'll have them pay for how they treated you"

"No!" You screamed.

"(Y/n) you just don't understand... I'm the prince charming that is rescuing you" he explained. Before he left. You knew that it wasn't the last of him but you never expected him to go to the lengths that he did.

The whole kingdom was told that your step relatives were abusive. That they treated you like a slave, that they beat you, they locked you in a basement and starved you. None of it was true but the whole kingdom believed it and eventually you were forced to marry prince Giorno.

In the night of your wedding he presented you his gift... To watch your step relatives dance on a floor of coals and barbwire as the townspeople heckled and howled, screaming words of hatred to those innocent women until they died.

[autumnsart22]

Oikawa x reader ch. 13

Sorry for the late update, but it’s still Sunday so I’m good lol. Hope you enjoy!

As I wandered out of the club, I ignored all of the drunken yells and shouts calling me back to the dancefloor. I kept my eyes forward, barely even able to see straight as I walked with single minded determination towards the exit. I needed to get out of this club. 

Right as I reached the door, the dark haired girl from before appeared right in front of me, a sultry look on her face. 

“Hey, you’re leaving already?” She wrapped her arms around me, and it took all the strength in my body to not shove her as hard as I could. 

Go back to that dumb bitch you were with before if you want to feel better about yourself!

I clenched my jaw, but effortlessly pulled her hands from around my neck, walking away without a word. 

When I finally got to my car I sat in numb silence, unable to make myself move. I couldn’t stop seeing the shocked and hurt expression on Y/n’s face right before she walked away from me, telling me she wanted me out of her life forever. I hadn’t meant what I said, not even a little bit. I wanted to tell her that, to chase after her and call her a million times until I got the chance to explain.

I pulled out my phone, dialing her number before I could think, but it went straight to voicemail. 

“Hi, this is Y/n! Sorry I can’t answer the phone right now, but I’ll call you back as soon as I can…” 

My chest ached. Taking a few deep, heaving breaths, I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to relax. It would be fine; I would just call her again tomorrow and explain. Everything would go back to normal. 

There was a loud tapping on my window, and I jolted. Iwaizumi stood outside, gesturing for me to open the door. 

“Get into the passenger seat, Shittykawa,” Iwa snapped, and I decided not to argue, silently moving to the other end of the car. Iwaizumi took my place on the drivers side, starting the car and putting it into reverse. 

We drove in silence for a long while, neither of us sure of what to say. 

I was the one who ended up speaking first. “She’s never going to forgive me, Iwa.” 

My best friend shot a glare at me, looking annoyed. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“You don’t understand. The things I said…” 

“Oikawa, neither of you handled the situation well at all, ok? That doesn't mean you won’t forgive each other.”

“What do I do?”

He sighed, leaning back. “I have no idea. That’s up to you to decide. For right now, I’d give it a little bit of time for you both to get some space, and then figure out a way to show that you’re sorry.” 

Space? Time? I didn’t want either of those things. But I knew that Iwaizumi was right in that regard. Both of us needed to cool off, even though I didn’t want to admit it. 

Iwaizumi pulled up in front of my house, face hard even though I could see the glimmer of concern in his eyes. “You going to be ok?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll try.” 

✨✨✨✨

Y/n POV: 

It had been one full week since the horrible night at the club, and I hadn’t spoken to Oikawa once. The Sunday after the party, I cried every hour, and I ended up emailing coach Nobuteru asking for a few days off like a coward. I must have sounded pretty pathetic, because he ended up giving me the whole week. 

Avoiding practice didn’t mean I could avoid Oikawa all together, even though Seijoh was pretty big. In fact, I felt like I saw him everywhere throughout the school day. I began to keep my eyes peeled for his familiar tall figure and fluffy hair, turning around whenever I spotted him. It caused me to be late to a few classes, but it was better than the awkward interaction and the pain that would have ensued otherwise. 

What hurt the most was the fact that he didn’t seem that upset. Whenever I saw him, he was usually surrounded by people (mostly girls) talking and laughing like there was nothing wrong. Maybe to him, there wasn’t. Did I really matter that little to him? 

He also made no attempts to contact me or talk at all. I had received one call at 2am on the night of the party, but after that, contact went dead. 

My only form of communication was Iwa, and we both had made a silent pact to not mention HIM. Instead, we spent a few afternoons taking walks, going out to lunch, or eating snacks in his car while listening to angry rap. I was happy that I got to be with Iwaizumi without Oikawa as a constant distraction for once. I felt like we got closer because of it, and it became easy to talk to him about how I was feeling (excluding any mention of HIM). In return, he told me more about his mom, and eventually wanted me to meet her. We ended up visiting her in the hospital after school one day, and I held Iwa’s hand the whole time. She was in a deep sleep, but Iwaizumi told her about his day, and I introduced myself. As we left, I promised that I would take care of her son. 

Seeing Iwa’s mom made me realize how ridiculous the fight with Oikawa was, and how pitiful I was being. I refused to be the girl ruining her life over a boy. 

I couldn’t stop my chest from hurting though. 

Not working as Aoba Josiah's manager freed up a lot of my free time, and I ended up going to most of Karasuno’s practices after school. Being with the team lifted my spirits, especially when I noticed Hinata and Kageyama holding hands. 

They had noticeably improved, better than I had ever seen them. They worked as a coherent team, picking up each other's slack when one of the team members fell short, to the point where I was blown away. I wished I could be wholeheartedly happy for them, but all I could think about was how Aoba Johsai would have to face Karasuno in the finals. When had I become so loyal to Seijoh? 

Oikawa POV: 

The week after the party was hell.

The first day back at school I had a plan to corner Y/n after practice, but she ended up not showing. When I questioned Iwaizumi about it, he told me that she had decided not to come for the rest of the week, but if I wanted a reason, I would have to talk to her myself. I tried pressing him for more, but he was like a concrete (iron) wall. I clearly wasn’t going to get any help from him. 

After that, I looked for her everywhere in the halls, hoping to get a moment alone to talk. I spotted flashes of her a few times, but she always seemed to be moving away from me and I was always with people, so I couldn’t run after her. I considered calling her a few times, but chickened out, not sure if I would be able to handle her declining my calls. Iwaizumi had said to give her space anyway, so maybe I should wait. 

But I couldn’t get the image of her tear stained face out of my head though. Every moment, even as I faked smiles and laughs, my chest physically ached. I felt like I was being torn up inside, watching her slide farther away. 

On Friday after school, I headed to the office to get some permission slips signed for an away practice game coming up. My headphones blasted the 1975 into my ears, drowning out anyone trying to talk to me as I strode down the hall. A few girls stepped in my way, but I gave them apologetic smiles and kept moving. I was already late for practice, and I knew coach Nobuteru was going to make me run extra laps as punishment. 

I stepped into the cool office, breathing in the smell of copy paper and air freshener. My entire body froze as I spotted Y/n standing by the front desk, speaking to the woman behind the counter. 

As I approached, the woman paused in her conversation with Y/n. “Oikawa-san, it’s wonderful to see you!” I watched Y/n visibly stiffen, turning slowly to face me. I watched her face twist with some emotion I couldn’t name when she saw me, and I attempted a bright smile. 

“You as well, Ms. Suzuki. I was just here to get these papers signed.” I held them out, and the registrar smiled. 

“Of course,” she said, before turning back to Y/n. “I’ll get those copies you wanted if you just wait here a moment.”

Y/n gave a strained smile, pulling out her phone as the woman disappeared into the back office. I noticed her fingers trembling slightly as she scrolled through instagram. 

WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay…

“Why haven’t you been at practice?” I blurted, my voice coming out all wrong. I sounded like I didn’t care. 

She swallowed twice, not looking at me. “I needed some more time to focus on my homework.” 

Liar, she was such a dirty liar. She had never struggled with homework before, and she was one of smartest people I knew. 

“You--” 

Ms. Suzuki emerged from the back office, smiling brightly as she handed Y/n and I back our papers. The second my manager got her hands on the copies, she turned and practically sprinted from the office. 

“Y/n wait--!” 

The door slammed and she was gone. 

      ✨✨✨✨

Y/n POV:

I sat on my bed, trying to finish the math packet I had gotten in class today. The work wasn’t very hard, it just took a long time, and my brain felt dead. 

I was also majorly distracted. I couldn’t stop replaying the encounter with Oikawa over in my head, the horrible awkwardness and the sickening feeling when he smiled at me like everything was normal. I felt like a coward, unable to face him. I was sure he thought I was deranged after I had quite literally sprinted from the building. 

My pencil broke on the page, and I cursed, throwing the useless thing aside in frustration. As I reached for another on my bedside table, I heard a knock from downstairs on the front door. My mom was out at a business conference in Osaka, and my father was in his office working, so he wouldn’t be able to get the door. 

I groaned rolling to my feet. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour? 

I padded down the stairs, rubbing my eyes and stretching as I walked to the door. When I opened it, I felt my stomach explode and fly right out of my mouth as I blinked up at Oikawa standing on my porch. 

“Hey,” he shifted awkwardly, looking a little shy. He wore adidas pants and a regular white t-shirt, a black beanie covering his hair, and I was suddenly overly aware of my disgusting yellow pajama shirt and pink shorts I wore. 

I didn’t respond, my brain unable to catch up. 

He cleared his throat and stepped towards me, eyes on my face. “Y/n… I came here to apologize.” 

I let out a slow breath. “W-why?” I could feel tears already coming, but I clenched my fists. No crying. 

“Why what?” 

“Why are you here to apologize? I thought you didn’t care, and wanted nothing to do with me.” 

Oikawa’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You keep saying that...why do you think I don’t care about you? I do, a lot.” 

My hands were shaking. “I--” 

He stepped closer, towering over me, and I had to lean my head back to see his face. “Y/n, I wish I could take back what I said. I didn’t mean it, and I never want to make you sad again.” 

“It was my fault though. I shouldn’t have…” I trailed off, unable to look at him. 

“You-you had no obligation not to kiss Ushiwaka.” His jaw clenched but he continued. “I overreacted and blamed you. Please accept my apology? I don’t want to lose you.” 

My lower lip trembled. “You’re so…” I sniffled and looked away. “You don’t need to apologize. We both reacted badly.”

“But you’ll forgive me? I can’t take not having you around. This week has been hell.” 

I blinked, my face growing hot. “But I thought...” 

“What? That I didn’t care about our fight?” 

“I-I mean, you didn’t look that upset…” 

Oikawa let out a frustrated breath. “You don’t know anything.” “Then tell me.” 

His eyes were dark, his breath washing across my face as he leaned towards me. “I missed having you around, Chibi-chan, so much I could barely breathe. I don’t ever want to be the one to make you cry again, ok? I do care about you. Don’t forget it.”

I let out a half sob, half laugh, and my head fell forward to hit his chest. “Ok,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for walking away from you, and for kissing that dibshit. I didn’t mean for it to hurt you.” 

I gasped in surprise when he crushed me in a hug, his face buried in my neck. “I forgive you,” he murmured in my ear, and I relaxed, breathing in his familiar smell. 

After a long moment, he pulled away and I shuffled awkwardly. “Um, do you want to come in?” 

He grinned and shrugged. “Sure.”

He trailed behind me, kicking off his shoes and following me up the stairs to my bedroom. I flicked on the light, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious. My room was pretty simple, but it suddenly felt way too childish. I bit my lip, blushing furiously, but Oikawa looked delighted. 

“Is this you as a baby?” He grinned down at a picture of me dressed in a pumpkin costume when I was two. “You were so cute!” 

I smiled shyly, pulling him away and flopping on my bed. It was big enough to fit both of us shoulder to shoulder, and I opened my computer and pulled up Netflix. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

He nodded, scrolling through the list of movies available. “Horror?” He grinned wickedly. 

I rolled my eyes. “You hate horror movies, and so do I!” 

He shrugged. “So? Let’s just give it a try.” 

We ended up starting to watch the Grudge, which was about a cursed house and a ghost haunting and murdering everyone who entered said house. 

It was not the right decision. Oikawa hid his face for most of the movie and screamed like a child at the jump scares, and I was so freaked out I clutched his arm in a death grip, so hard he probably lost circulation. 

We stopped halfway, unable to continue, and Oikawa whined that he was too scared to go home alone now. I laughed, not arguing, because I didn’t want him to leave either. 

“I have ice cream downstairs, so I’m going to go grab it,” I said, rolling off the bed and heading to the door. The second I saw the dark, creepy hall, I insisted Oikawa come with me. Especially since it was his fault we had watched the movie in the first place. 

We held onto each other's arms as we slowly crept down the stairs, listening for any sign of ghosts or serial killers. I almost had a heart attack when my cat crept past us, which made Oikawa laugh his head off. 

In the kitchen, I snatched two spoons and sat on the floor, leaning my back up against the cupboard. Oikawa sat next to me, his long legs stretching way farther than mine. The ice cream tub was massive, easily shared between two people, and we munched on it in comfortable silence. I thought it was weird that I could be so happy sitting on the kitchen floor eating ice cream at 3am with Oikawa, more happy than I was during most other exciting moments. How did he do this to me?

“I’m glad you’re here, Tooru.” I turned to look at him, watching his face redden. Did he not want me using his first name? Shit, maybe I’d gone too far…

He cleared his throat before staring at me earnestly. “Me too.” 

I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

Chapter 12

Chapter 14

[psychemeanscure]

PART 14

As soon as Jang Taeyoung went out of the door it was Veeros Alcaziar’s turn then. The moment he saw his father’s familiar blazing face he knew he would get a worse punishment other than being punched by the man who had just left.

He tried, but can’t longer escape when he was already frozen to his spot as her father starts unbuckling its own metal watch, putting it diligently on the desk table and with a swift move… Knocking his own son by the head as Zilo’s temple starts gushing a drip of blood caused by the gold sovereign ring his father wore through its hand. That even blocking it, was useless. He maybe aged throughout the years but he will still admit that his father is as strong as a cow for a 50-year-old.

And with a few more punches, he stumbled on the cold floor once again. Today he wasn’t name as his son, he was a creation he needed to flourish. Thus he wasn’t his father in front of him, but a wild hag he had feared in a lifetime.

A weak grunt run out into his mouth as he was grabbed by his collar, meeting the eyes of obsession. “What did I just tell you, huh? Zilo? I think you have forgotten for a while.”

If it was the first time, he could surely be the scaredy cat back then. But it’s not. What people think behind the mask of a spoiled happy go lucky son is actually a wimpy kid being bullied by his own father. That behind the tolerated back-ups he did from his failed activities, failed hideouts and addictions that had led him busted. It is always ends up being him as the leverage he needed to pay. A collateral of damage done by his own hands.      

Numb. He’s already numb that he got used to it. He goes against. “Stop being delusional father. She’s not even my sister to begin with. Echar un polvo! She doesn’t get an inch of our bloodline!”

And it just takes a second before he felt the heel of his father’s shoe stomps his frail knee earning a hurtful voice of his own. “What did you just say? Are you crazy?! She’s your sister! Your eldest sister whom your mother just bore! Remember that.”

Crap that mother. He knew who he means about that because his father taught him so. He’s full of it already! “She is Sung Eunyoung’s only! You killed my courtesan mother, remember? You are the crazy one father. She had never been yours!” and yes, they knew. They knew all along that she wasn’t simply the great Amilia Martin for she has been a target long before her plan.

Truly as he can still remember how the 4-year-old him witnessed the death of her own mother the moment his father found out that he impregnated her a son. Reason for his berserk finally for he cannot attain any insults of his biological mom. He may only have a vague memory of her yet one things’ for sure, he was loved. On so the following blow of his stomach he expected came in. “Say that again or this isn’t the only thing you can get.” The cold words from his father yet left him unwavering. There’s no turning back indeed. He will go against his father this time. The next thing he knew?    

He was already pressed to the wall as a striking hand envelopes half of his face pinned in sideway as if he was just a mere meat fresh to be grilled easily. Possessively insisting his own conclusion. “Ah. Right, so is this why you tried to harm your sister, eh? You dare hurt her so you can get all my attention? Screw you, son! I’m sorry but your sister is my top priority.” With the last hit of his head by the wall he was laying helplessly then.

His father was too far to be called a psychopath that’s the truth. It was the hidden obsession who’s eating him. The head over heels delusion of his father from Sung Eunyoung’s mother, believing he owns everything about her and only her.

Wiping his son’s blood by his hanky as darting eyes went by the window as if looking someone at the skies. “You are my wife sweetheart, will always be. And I promise you, we’ll going to get our daughter very soon.”  

~

A sinister grimace from Veeros Alcaziar was shown remembering the promise he swears to whom he believes as his beloved wife, waiting for his dearest daughter to come back from an important phone call. And as soon as she came back in the VIP room, it was easy for him to shift in an unsuspicious state by just right there comfortably digging the signature cuisine of the Spanish restaurant they were meeting.

“Sorry ‘bout that Señor. Things just getting hectic with me these days. Where were we again?”      

“Oh, no. You don’t have to. It’s business, we can never say no. So yes as I was saying, I heard what happened between you two. Too bad. Are you alright, perhaps?”

That for another time she had to keep her cringe inside once again. It was just the second time to been asked by the same question, yet it hurts her eardrums already. What else she could do anyway but to play along, shrugging her shoulders as she speaks. “Well, it just happened. Things went wrong in a go. I’m coping up though Señor. Thank you for your concern.”      

Her wary response somehow, opposite to what she thinks that says, ‘Mierda! As if I care.’

“Glad you are. But it hasn’t been long. I bet he’s been calling for you still. Isn’t he?” A casual question from the old Alcaziar and just right for another call coming from their topic.        

“Actually, Señor. He is. And speaking of, he’s currently calling me again.”

Glancing the caller ID then as she intended to show it to the latter who only answered her an awe expression. “Oh? So what you really do every time he does?” and without second thoughts, she just straightly tap the end button for confirmation before nonchalantly boast to the old Alcaziar. “Simple as that Señor.”  thus the old man only laughs for answer with hidden unpleasant thoughts. ‘Wow. Just like you sweetheart. Our daughter is just like you.’  

“Oh well! What shall I say? Am I a proud father again, daughter?”

And she’s lying if it didn’t make her stiffed for a moment because it does. Perhaps from the last time he said it from the first meeting it ain’t sound something, yet hearing it now seems different. A feeling that she rather not wished for.

Tuning her role play on smiling then, she answered. “Be the proud patriarch then…” as she purposely halts her statement, forking her food which dipped on a red sauce like she decides to pass her refusal by it instead. Before proceeding to push the word that just grumbles her to puke.

“Father.”

The word she never imagined she had to call with the man she desires to succumb. Hell how she’s too eager to throw her hidden curses! Opposite to how the Spanish old man’s satisfying thoughts though. ‘That’s it my daughter. That’s it. Your mother will be proud.’ He answered a delighting grin truly.

He’s usually not a patient person on getting what he needed, but he wouldn’t mind if it’s his one and only daughter to wholeheartedly give an exception for if that’s what makes her enjoy once more. ‘Just a bit more. A little bit more.’~

As that’s how their talks ended indeed. Slumping vigorously to her bar table chair of her apartment the moment she finally came home. Tiredly massaging her nape, twirling the content of her wineglass. Needing to consume the alcohol inside her. Her day isn’t as busy as it usually does but for some reason she felt like jam-packed.

Relaxing her spare time totally. Not when a call came after actually. The man she intently ignores for some time now. Including today. She was just gaping with the resonating sound of her phone on the bar table. Somehow finding a sentence she would want to utter even without answering. And she can only search it if she decided to stand up looking from nowhere around the night lights of the city of her glass window.

“Jang.”

Her mere mention of his name after days. It’s been a while, it is. But she’s already cursing herself for sighing like a vulnerable mortified one. Though she’s guilty she admits. “I could have not gone this far if you just stick with our original plan but why? What really wavered you to hide something from me. What was it Jang? What’s the big fuss?”

Shaking her head afterwards remembering her disappointment, she speaks again. “But you didn’t. you’re being stubborn still.” As she currently trailing her index finger of her wineglass’ rim then. “See? Look at you now, bet you’re getting piled up with useless works already. And pretty sure you’re itching to fight me as well. Aren’t you? Tss. Damn you for making me the bad person here though. I hate you.”

Letting out all her unsaid complaints and sentiments, she’s basically picturing her phone as the imaginary Jang Taeyoung certainly as she can’t even help being disappointed when the loud sound of its ringing finally went over. Glancing it with sarcasm. “Jeez, even with phone calls you dare to neglect me. No doubt you can’t wait for me either. Guess it’s really over for us huh?”

“Fine. Whatever, Loco. Good luck anyway. Goodbye for real. Really this time.”

With a seeming smile and final sip of her wine, she confirms her true goodbye indeed.

[thesaunatest]

MY HUGE THEORY ON EL’S PLOTLINE IN S4

before you guys even start, YES I know that 99.9% of what I say is going to be wrong but this is literally just for fun.

its march 1986, middle of the school year and el HATES school

when we left her she was barely literate and had just started getting accostomed to speaking full sentences, NOWHERE NEAR a 9th grade level, so shes struggling in her classes to say the least

on top of that, she barely knows how to socialize with other people, so shes evidently getting picked on

with joyce and jonathan both working to keep the family afloat, will and el get left alone alot

but outside of the party, they socially have nothing in common

in fact, will is adapting to the new town a whole lot better than el. he fit right in with all the creative kids he met in class, but el didnt mesh with that crowd

anyway, our girl is sturggling

the only time she really has fun is when she visits hawkins, or when someone from the party visits them

which leads us to spring break

mike obviously comes to visit, and el doesnt want them to waste a single second so she begs mike and will to come explore the town with her

at this point joyce is already in her detective mode, hatching a rescue plan for hopper so she doesnt notice theyre gone

and jonathan is battling the heartbreak of nancy ghosting him when she was supposed to come visit

so the trio goes off on an adventure without anyone noticing.......... or so they think

because brenner is back, and he knows el is with the byers, but he cant go and snatch her because he doesnt have the resources all the way in california

in fact, he doesnt have the resources at all. his numbers experiment is seen as a catastrophic failure that lead to the deaths of hundreds of lab employees

the only way for him to redeem himself in the community, and gain his funding back is to present his peers with proof that the project can work, so he needs to get one of his numbers back

el is the only one he can track down, but he doesnt think he can do it himself. if she saw him, she could just kill him with her powers, he assumes because he doesnt know she lost them

so who does he employ to get el back to hawkins? lonnie byers

its almost too easy. it doesnt take much to bribe lonnie, and hey, its not like its his kid. so lonnie accepts the bribe, and goes all the way out to california to find el

he shows up at the byers house..... only to find it completely deserted. so he waits

and the trio finds him there after their day out (why are you here? what do you want? where are mom and jonathan?)

and lonnie, being as crafty as he is, comes up with a good excuse on the fly (hes craftier than i am because i genuinely have no idea what he would say)

anyway, he gets them in his car and on their way back to hawkins

jonathan shows up after theyve already left, and is too stoned tired to think anything of the empty house

and joyce is already halfway to russia

will knows his father. he knows that his father doesnt give a shit about him, the family, or anything about hawkins. he knows that his father wouldnt get involved in anything unless he had something to gain. so hes wraking his brain

maybe.... lonnie pulls over to take a suspicious phone call? maybe will figures out an inconsistency in his story? either way, the gang is onto lonnie and figures that they gotta get away from him and get back to joyce and jonathan

they tuck and roll out of the car. idk. all that matters is that they get out of there

as theyre rolling out of the car, el bonks her head a little and has a quick flashback to her time in the lab

since her intuition is always spot on, she takes this as a cue the breener is back and lonnie is working for him

she tells the boys it isnt safe to go back to california or hawkins, so they come up w an alternative plan, somewhere neither brenner nor lonnie would think to look for them

and while theyre on the road, they stop at a diner to eat (dont ask me where they got the money) and we get will leaving an emotional voicemail home, probably sobbing to jonathan about how much he means to will, which gives el an idea

because who has the resources to help her, as well as a desire for vengeance on brenner? kali

el uses her superb hitchiking skills to get them to chicago

maybe she just has some hints of her powers left, but it isnt too hard for el to find kali

she explains everything thats happened, and lets kali know that if she want revenge, the opportunity is hers

unfortunately, lonnie was hot on their trail, and called for reinforcements

theyre ambushed by the few employees brenner has working for him. initially, everyone is hiding, assisted by kali’s powers

but el knows they arent leaving empty handed, and would rather get taken away then have kali’s freedom taken from her

so el reveals herself, followed by mike because he wont leave her, followed by will because he wont leave mike

all three get taken away, back to hawkins lab, but now kali is even more motivated to bring down the lab once and for all

so kali and her gang get to hawkins, almost simultaniously with jonathan, who has been looking for his family in a frenzy since the morning he woke up to find eveyone gone, without even a note or a phone call, as well as argyle, who came along for the ride

the video store is being used as home base this season, so thats the first place they go, where they find steve, shortstaffed and not knowing whats going on because the whole team ditched him

they catch him up to speed on how EVERYONES GONE and steve catches them up to speed on how EVERYONE IS GETTING MURDERED

meanwhile, brenner has three predicaments

1) no matter what he does to el, what kind of torture he inflicts, she isnt using her powers because she doesnt have them. she tells him this several times. he refuses to believe it

2) lonnie byers is demanding his payment, which he didnt recieve because the deal was that he bring el to them, and he couldnt even do that

3) he has to find a way to dispose of mike and will, who he had no intention of bringing into the lab but theyre here and they know everything

and this is the moment where mike screws up by letting them know that people know theyre in the lab and people know about all the experiments and any second now, someones gonna come banging that door down to save us. nancy, jonathan, steve, robin max, lucas, dustin, kali-

and the second mike says her name he knows he screwed up

brenner decides in that moment that all he can do is round up everyone involved and get rid of them. conveniently, the string of murders occurring will serve as a good cover for what happened to them

and this is the part where joyce, murray, and hopper get back to hawkins

this is also the part where nancy and robin and the gang get back to hawkins

so nancy and robin immediately go to the video store armed with all the new information they learned from victor creel

..... and are met with jonathan, argyle, kali, and steve in pandemonium

they close the store for the day, and get ready to storm the lab

they realize that they need something from the school, so they head there to pick it up

and soon after arriving, theyre met with the all to familiar hawkins lab vans

they make a hasty escape, taking out some of the goons but they need to find a way to get the rest off their trail

they head for the woods, hoping to hide out in the cabin

meanwhile, the russia crew has taken the mostly demolished cabin as their haven to recover from whatever injuries they sustained

theyre all running through the woods, but they realize the people from the lab are closing in on them

and then nancy and jonathan pass a very familiar tree

they use whatever weapon they have on them to break through the bark, and head into the upside down

the lab people keep going into the woods, eventually finding hopper’s cabin

epic showdown between the russia crew and the lab people, joyce, murray and hopper win, they realize the lab is back, immediately head there realizing theyre gonna have to rescue someone

nancy and robin use the info they learned from victor creel to keep the gang alive in the upside down, max, argyle and eddie are freaking out because omg we’re in another dimention, we get some big reveal about the truth about the upside down and the gang makes their way out and head to the lab

and while this is all happening,we get some super emotional monologue between brenner and el (ala-the last 10 minutes of the truman show) and brenner realizes that el isnt going to be the naieve superweapn she used to be, and decides the best thing he can do with el is give her the standard punishment, time in the closet

and being in the closet triggers all sorts of flashbacks and emotions (mbb’s opportunity to show off her acting chops for an emmy)

joyce and hopper bust into the lab like they did in season 1, but this time they dont get caught

they decide to split up to cover more ground, and hopper finds el in the closet

and around the same time joyce finds mike and will and gets them out of there

here comes the REAL emotional performance

hopper sees her, we get a teary eyed “el!” “dad!”, and then hopper gets pulled away from el by lab workers

exactly the same way terry did

we’re watching this happen from el’s perspective, with a heart-wrenching “noooooooooo” from el, accompanied by cuts to every time el has had to be separated from someone she cares about (terry, the s1 ending, billy dying, her leaving kali in s2, saying goodbye to everyone on moving day, her being separated from mike and will when they got to the lab) accompanied by some terribly sad 80s song, then back to the present moment, she reaches her hand out and boom, the guards go flying. her powers are back

except she doesnt have control of them the way she did before, and now shes bringing the whole building down

her and hopper race to the the first floor, and meet joyce and the boys, they get out of the building at the very last second, and the whole thing collapses.

eventually they find the other group, the whole team is now together, they go and take down the big bad from the upside down, joyce almost KILLS lonnie

nancy and robin drop a huge bombshell that has to do with hawkins/the upside down, specifically pertaining to el, which they pieced together after talking to victor creel

we get a massive cliffhanger, season 5 starts like 10 minutes after the ending of season 4

[halothenthehorns]

THE KNIGHT BUS

A/N: Wow, I hardly had any author's notes in the last two, and so far I've had really stinking long one's in every chapter of this. I love it! I'm enjoying commenting back as much as you guys seem to be reading, so here we go Guest: (sucks in deep breath even though I'm typing.)

I'm glad you like the way I do Lily. I always pictured her more fun-loving than a lot of people seem to, she married James Potter for crying out loud, she has to have some sense of humour, but she's also fiercely overreacting in protecting people. Lots of you have noted that she does seem a little too forgiving of Snape in this series, and I promise that will start wearing off real soon in this book. She was big on it in the first book, mostly due to her instinct and flashbacks of how they treated him through their school years. He didn't have much to do in the second book, so there wasn't much time to show that she really was getting sick of how he treats Harry. Mostly when she berates the Marauders, it's more of a trying to rein them in type thing, rather than outright disapproving of them.

They don't know that the person who broke out was from Azkaban. It appeared on the Muggle news, and so their first instinct really was to think it was just a muggle who shared the name.

Sirius doesn't keep track of his family; I think he states in the fifth book that he didn't even find out Regulus died until he got out of Azkaban. I certainly don't see him keeping up with him to know now. If you want other candidates, Bellatrix before she got married (and who doesn't go to prison until after the downfall of Voldemort), maybe his Dad since we know so little about him, etc. but again they were mostly joking and fixing a random name to someone they knew.

I am just as bad at math as JK, so my idiocy for not double checking dates was my fault. I will go back and fix it saying that this takes place during '80 the year Harry was actually born. The part about the Fidelius charm only lasting a week, is something I genuinely forgot but did go back and check and Fudge himself saying that the charm barely lasted a week, thank you for pointing that out, but it doesn't change my timeline of events that they go into hiding just before Harry's first birthday, but I suppose they didn't actually use the Fidelius Charm itself until the week before Halloween, why it wasn't used at once and that subsequent thing won't be touched in this particular story, or any of these books, because I've no idea honestly and the character's wouldn't either. I like Guest's idea though that Dumbledore was researching stuff about the Charm in the meantime while they were lying low.

I know in canon it says that all four past people who are present were full-time members of the Order, but I cannot see Remus or Lily just 'living' off of James and Sirius. So, since I can't decide yet what kind of 'work' any of them are doing for the Order, the only thing we really see them do in the book is guard the Prophecy, they're kind of on hold for the reading, and I might touch as I go on what they do more specifically if I come up with any good ideas. I know Remus specifically 'spies' on the werewolves on Voldemort's side, but I really can't see James and Sirius letting him do this too much, they'd throw a fit. James and Sirius together could kick up enough of a fuss he couldn't do it too often, while an after Azkaban Sirius probably isn't in any kind of good position and couldn't do as much to stop anyone from doing anything.

I'm afraid I'm still refusing to answer any and all actual question like the one Guest asked, that's as the story goes, and in the chapter below coincidentally. HAHA dang this is probably the longest A/N ever, and I'm sorry if it seemed a little rambly. It's probably a bad reflection on my writing that I couldn't just sit down and explain this in story...but oh well.

HPHPHPHP

"Honestly Harry," Lily began, shaking her head from side to side, "I'm afraid to ask, but how come you've never ran away before then?"

Harry just sighed miserably as he answered, "the Dursleys ignored me more than anything else growing up. They never sat around insulting me like she was, that's why I lost my temper. I guess I'd just never been driven that far before."

"Best thing to happen, honestly," James nodded in total agreement, "mind you, I hate what led to that, but if you never go back, that will be the happiest part of this."

"Where's he going to go though?" Remus asked in concern, stating the one thing that really could make this an awful situation very quickly. "Ron and Hermione are out of the country, and even if they weren't, would they really just let him move in like that?"

"I'm positive they'd let him live there," James scoffed, "the Weasleys let him stay most of last summer, right?"

"He could stay in the Leaky Cauldron," Sirius offered, "I ran away from home a few times and stayed there, always went back eventually but it was a good place to cool off for the weekend, especially when James did go out like this."

"But does Harry think to do that?" Remus prompted.

"Well let's find out," Lily shrugged, turning to her chapter.

It took Harry several blocks before a new emotion made him stop, panic.

"Completely understandable," James nodded.

His mind couldn't seem to find a way out of this mess. He was alone in the Muggle world, and he'd just done some of the most obvious of magic, which probably meant he was going to be kicked out of school as well.

Remus cut in, saying, "Harry, you do know now you really shouldn't be expelled for that. It was uncontrolled magic."

"Do they actually know the difference though?" Sirius asked, more puzzled than actually concerned. This crime really wasn't that bad, it certainly wasn't the worst he'd heard of. "Between wandless magic and, ah, wand magic."

"No," Lily frowned, "but once they come upon the situation, and hear Harry's side of it, there shouldn't be punishment. In fact, I'd like to think the Ministry will actually do something to get Harry out of there."

Harry remained quiet, ignoring that pull in his gut that said his Mom's words weren't ringing true. Out loud he responded to Remus' original question, "yeah, now. Back then, not so much."

Harry had just broken the law, and really wasn't sure why the Ministry hadn't yet appeared to take his wand away.

"Actually kind of hoping for that here soon," James sighed, "now that Lily's said it, it seems obvious that the Ministry's going to come and see what happened and then take Harry somewhere else."

Sirius frowned, biting at his lip and trying not to argue. He personally had little to no faith in the Ministry, and he had a really bad feeling they might just try to brush this whole thing over and simply leave Harry there again once they'd fixed this situation. The after effects of which would plague him no matter what really did happen.

Harry shivered in the cold weather as he glanced around himself, mind spinning in all directions. All he could think about now was that he was a criminal, and would be cut off from the magical world. He knew Ron and Hermione would help him out given the chance, but they were both out of the country, and he had no way to get a hold of them.

"You're starting to depress me," Lily sighed, an old now familiar pang back in place as she realized no one was really there for her boy in this moment when he needed them most.

He didn't have any Muggle money either.

"So, no one ever did tell you about the Gringotts exchange then," Remus pointed out something he'd noted back in the first book.

"Nope, no one had told me then, and even if they had I might not have anyway. Didn't want the Dursleys questioning why I suddenly had money on me." Harry reminded, frowning and suddenly wondering why he was getting a mounting feeling of apprehension. Alone on Magnolia Crescent, the night that he had been most desperate to leave the Dursleys...why did this feel so important to him. The longer he sat here, wondering if he was going to have to go on the run...did that remind him of someone.

Lily cut off his train of thought by reading.

Harry did have some wizard money in his vault, but he could never drag his stuff all the way there, unless...

"Oh please tell me you grabbed your broom," James frowned in concern.

"Yes, it was inside my trunk," Harry nodded. Remembering vividly back during the summer of his first year when he had been packing away all of his stuff and worried about how to carry his cauldron, when he realized that the trunk would magically expand to hold quite a bit of stuff, even if it was so heavy he could hardly lift it.

He glanced at his wand, and came to the conclusion that if he was already expelled,

"Please stop saying that," Sirius huffed, "you're starting to depress me now."

"Can't help it," Lily pointed out as she continued with a bit of curiosity now, wondering what cockamamie plan Harry would consider doing before the Ministry got a hold of him.

he could just continue to do more magic to get himself out of this. He'd enchant his trunk to be light enough he could rope it to his broom, throw on his invisibility cloak and fly to London to empty out of his vault, and then what? Go on the run the rest of his life?

"While it's not an awful plan," James snorted, "you're either ignorant or forgetting a very important detail."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"The trace," Remus pointed out, "that allows the Ministry to find you until you turn seventeen. Plus, and no offense Harry, you really don't know enough magic that you could make it on your own anyways."

Harry nodded in understanding, not exactly up to arguing the point. While his thirteen-year-old self might have argued the matter, he also hadn't known about the trace back then and hadn't realized just how easy it would be for him to be found.

He did not enjoy this future, but he could hardly sit here forever lest a Muggle policeman come by and ask why Harry had luggage full of spell books and a broom.

"That would be a story," Sirius agreed light-heartedly, "though personally we never exactly stuck around long enough for them to ask any questions."

"When did any of you get a run in with Muggle police?" Lily demanded suspiciously.

Sirius went a little shifty eyed and declined answering, while James laughed with far too much unease and said, "don't be silly Lily, he was joking."

Lily snorted, they weren't even trying to hide the fact that they were kidding, but she was too curious about the book to really interrogate them now. She'd wait until later.

Plan decided, he went rummaging through his stuff to find his cloak, when he felt a tingling go up his spine. He stood up straight and glanced around himself, the lone streetlight showing no one else around.

"Well this can't be good," they all muttered at once. Harry already had an impressive track record when it came to getting into bad situations. And now, here he was, alone and feeling off again. One glance at Harry now showed they weren't wrong about being worried either; he had a frown already in place as he remembered exactly how he had been feeling at that time.

He went back to his stuff, only to stop again at once, wand now in hand as he glanced more suspiciously at the dark surroundings. He thought he caught sight of something moving between the gaps of the houses.

Lily already wanted to stop and bite at her lip in worry. Way too many horrible things could be lurking behind her boy. The boys were all thinking of their joking comments about a convict being around, and violently berating themselves as they realized their joking may have come true.

He strained his eyes in the shadows, trying to make out if it was just an animal, or something worse. He lit the tip of his wand with the spell Lumos, which shone so brightly that Harry was momentarily blinded as it shone off of the garage door, but he just had time to make out the shape of something very large, with watchful eyes.

Lily's voice was heading into outright fear now, even if it was just a stray animal she didn't like that it was scaring her son.

Harry though, was frowning in remembrance. Wasn't he supposed to have a good feeling about this? That was his first reaction, but he knew his thirteen-year-old self had acted in fear at this startling sight. He wasn't even for sure what he had seen then...

He took an automatic step back, fell over his luggage, and ended in the gutter with his wand arm thrown out to catch his fall. There was a very loud BANG from just to his right, and Harry barely had time to roll back onto the sidewalk before wheels landed where his head had just been.

The whole time Lily had been reading that, her voice had continued to edge higher in fear. She was almost quaking in terror; the book almost slipped from her grasp. She still wasn't quite back to normal after that horrid dinner scene, and Harry coming so close to death right after that caused her to want to fling her arms around her son and hold him as close as she could.

For a moment Harry was sure he'd been knocked silly as he looked up at a triple deckered bus, which was bright purple,

"Thank Merlin," Sirius breathed, his eyes lighting up at once as he recognized the description, and then he released a bark of laughter and said, "you just called that by accident."

Harry was rubbing at his head and looking marginally embarrassed as they really did give a light chuckle at that, but his mind was still on the thing he'd seen. It was a dog, but massive. Why was this so important to him? It must just be a stray, so why should he care?

Lily was the only one who still looked on edge about the matter, Harry had never said what he'd seen in the dark, but now that the Knight Bus had appeared, surely everything was going to be okay now.

with the label The Knight Bus on the side. Before he had time to process this fully, a young man was stepping off in uniform and announcing himself as Stan Shunpike, a conductor for the bus, then he saw Harry still on the ground and asked why he was down there.

"Nice of him to notice," James said lightly.

Harry got to his feet and said that he'd fallen over, and Stan asked why he did that.

"Just seemed like a fun thing to do obviously," Remus snorted.

Harry snapped back he hadn't done it on purpose.

"Wow, getting a bit snippy there Pup," Sirius laughed.

Harry suddenly jerked; he looked like he was on the verge of something really important. Back when they had told him about their decision to be Animagi, and the subsequent animals, he hadn't thought much on the matter. It did explain the random nicknames, and beyond that he'd never questioned it. Now...

Lily hadn't seemed to notice Harry wasn't paying much attention to them, she was still stuck on the fact it had yet to say what Harry had seen to startle him so badly. So for once she didn't take note of her son in the room now eyeing Sirius curiously, but instead read.

Harry then turned to look behind him, but there was nothing there where the headlights clearly shown. Stan asked what he was watching, and Harry explained that he'd seen a humongous black dog.

Now that finally struck a chord with everyone in the room. Sirius looked like he'd just been clubbed over the head. Harry was still eyeing him like he'd never seen him before, no that wasn't right. He was staring right at him like he was trying desperately to remember something...

"So, err," James began, looking from Harry to Sirius and back warily, "who wants to count the odds of this?" A guy named Black had been heard from on the news, and a giant black dog which happened to be Sirius' animagus form, had been seen around Harry.

They still didn't believe in coincidences, but none of them really knew what to make of this. Because if that was Sirius, then that meant that first of all he was still alive! That alone made their heads spin, because what force on Earth would keep him away from Harry for all of these years. Which brought up the most confusing part, had it really been him on the news? Was it Sirius who had escaped from a prison, meaning Azkaban itself? How would anyone even go about doing that? They had been kidding earlier in even suggesting it was a relative of his, since it was impossible to escape from that place. Was it simply two unrelated instances and they were just trying to over-read it?

Sirius looked likely to pass out, not finding this remotely funny anymore. The possibilities were endless and far too horrible. Lily and James were eyeing each other, unsure what to make of all this. The past few times they jumped to a conclusion, they weren't always right. Remus was beside himself; lost in questions he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to anymore.

Harry wasn't helping anyone, he hadn't spoken a word through all of this, simply sitting there watching Sirius. His mind and gut were at war with each other the longer this continued. He knew him, he had been so sure of that, and simply from the small amount of time he had interacted with him now he was convinced Sirius was as close to him as his own parents. He should be happy at the very thought of Sirius being alive, his gut told him that. So why was something very dark and bad building up inside of his mind even as he sat there? A pounding headache was forming again, not knowing what to think or even what instinct to trust.

Finally after a very long, drawn out silence where no one offered anything, Lily finally convinced herself to just read on. Coincidence or not, she had a very nasty feeling they would find out sooner rather than later.

Stan didn't seem all that impressed, he was still watching Harry and asked what was on Harry's forehead. Harry reacted by brushing his hair in the way and saying nothing while trying to cover his scar.

"Can't blame you for that," James muttered, not even slightly distracted from his best friend's odd mentioning, if it was even that at all.

Harry knew that if the Ministry was after him, he didn't want to help them along.

Sirius finally came out of his torpor to release a surprised snort, shaking himself firmly like a wet dog. He was being paranoid, they all were. So why didn't he believe that? Well Harry eyeing him every other second now wasn't helping the matter. Out loud he said, "credit for trying anyways."

Stan then asked for Harry's name, and he gave the first one that came to mind, Neville Longbottom.

"At least it wasn't Ron's, you don't exactly resemble him," Lily agreed, trying in vain for some normal mood again, though none of the boys looked remotely up to it.

Then Harry changed the subject to asking about the bus, and where it led? Stan promptly explained it would take him anywhere except underwater.

"Where would I even go underwater?" Harry asked loudly, not having meant to pitch his volume like that, but hoping to distract himself from the way his head seemed to be developing its own pulse.

"Err, guess you could go visit mermaids or something," Remus blurted, finally pulling him away from his thoughts.

He told Harry, in a very thick accent, the different prices for the ride, and extras such as hot chocolate, or a little more for a toothbrush.

James finally made a brave stab at humour again, saying, "Lily Flower, please never try and mimic that accent again. You're doing a horrible job."

Lily took a small moment to stick her tongue out at him, but didn't bother defending herself. It's not like she could skip what Stan was saying.

Harry paid his dues and loaded his stuff onto the bus, and instead of seats inside he found beds. Stan set him up right behind the driver's seat, a man named Ernie Prang at the wheel.

"Is he still driving that then?" Sirius asked, dully, and the others were slightly concerned to see that he hadn't really bounced back yet. Sirius was pretty well known for not letting things get to him for too long, so the fact that he was clearly still upset and distracted by all of these horrible implications about him wasn't boding well.

No one answered him, mostly because it was a rhetorical question anyways.

Then Stan took a seat behind the driver, and told Ernie they were good to go. There was an equally loud BANG as the one that had arrived, and Harry was tossed onto his bed with the speed of force.

That finally earned a half-hearted chuckle from them, knowing all too well the sensations of riding that bus for the first time.

Stan was still eyeing Harry curiously, but Harry asked first where they were. Stan said somewhere in Wales, and Harry asked how come the Muggles couldn't hear the bus.

Harry closed his mouth sheepishly, finally distracted from his impending thoughts and was fixing to ask that himself. Lily smiled indulgently at him before reading.

Stan just laughed, saying those Muggles never saw anything proper, while Ernie told him to go and wake a woman whose stop was coming up.

"Well that didn't really explain it," Remus said lightly.

"It's okay," Harry said quickly, "magic makes it hard to see and hear, got it."

Well Harry hadn't stayed distracted long. He was already over his curiosity at this new magical object, and the brief feeling of wanting to object why this was okay but Mr. Weasley's car was illegal, and back to wondering why he felt like this should be the most important night of his life. He still had no answers though, and so he didn't want to delay the reading much.

Harry began watching out the window as Ernie spun crazily through the streets, while cars, mailboxes, and street lights all jumped out of the way only to go right back when they'd passed.

Harry raised his brows in surprise, he did find that pretty amusing, but not enough to interrupt again.

Stan came back down the stairs with an elder woman, and the bus screeched to a stop. While Madam Marsh tottered out, slightly green from the trip, Stan tossed her luggage out after her,

"Well he's a polite one," Lily snorted.

and then they were off again. Harry spent the next while sitting on his bed, but knowing he could never sleep. He was too busy thinking about if Marge had stopped floating around the Dursleys house yet.

That gained a weak laugh from the group, happy to have something to distract them and that delightful mental image worked fine.

Then he caught sight of Stan holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, and the large image on the front was of the same man Harry had seen on the Muggle news.

"Wow, wait!" Remus said in surprise. "So the person who did escape, was a wizard?"

"But, how is that even possible?" James demanded. "No one should be able to escape from Azkaban, no one!"

Sirius looked almost mildly amused as he said, "well, props to them for being the first one to do it."

"Knock it off Sirius," Lily snapped, getting a little huffy at once at such a prospect, "it's not funny, this could be a problem."

"Quit fretting Lily," Sirius scoffed right back, "so it's weird, kind of freaky, and I'm going to insist still cool, but it's probably nothing to do with Harry."

Lily wasn't the only one who disagreed with that, Remus also had a bad feeling that trouble seemed to go out of its way to find Harry, and an escaped prisoner who shared a name with Sirius seemed almost likely by this point. Remus had met Sirius' family only once, and it had been far from a pleasant experience, one he would never wish on Harry.

James dearly wanted to side with Sirius, but he still didn't like the uneasy way his son was acting now, it didn't bode well.

Stan looked back at the front page,

Lily froze dead in her tracks as she looked down at the name, the first name, of this convict. Harry didn't even need to ask this time, one furtive look from his mom to his godfather and he knew his answer. James wasn't having it though, he tore the book away and glared down at that name like it was the worst trick in the world.

"Someone's dead," he snarled, his hands beginning to shake so hard the book was in danger of being broken all over again. "Whoever the hell framed you for whatever the bloody hell you ended up in there for, they are beyond dead!" He got to his feet and began pacing the length of the couch, continuing his violent mutterings about how his best friend had been set up for something.

Sirius said nothing, he looked almost mummified, and for a horrible moment Remus thought he'd stopped breathing. "Ah, Padfoot," Remus said gently, since James was still yelling at the top of his lungs and Lily and Harry were watching him wearily. Sirius was still losing colour, and were his lips tinged blue? Remus poked him, hard, in the ribs which only elicited the smallest of reactions that he sucked in air through his nose finally. He still wasn't reacting though, just gazing straight forward with a look of utmost horror on his face.

His friends had seen him in quite a few ways, so excited he couldn't hold still, so angry he couldn't spit out the words, and one single moment before this where he had been terrified. Then though, Sirius had done the opposite and had sat around talking almost nonstop in an effort to show how 'not afraid' he'd been. This shell-shocked display was something none of them had seen before, and it was beginning to scare them all.

"Sirius," James said loudly, finally having noticed he was the only one shouting. He waltzed over and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

The man jumped like he'd just been electrocuted; suddenly his eyes went flying around the room like he had no idea where he was. Blinking so fast there was no way he could really be clearing his vision, he stammered "s-sorry. Zoned out there, what was that?"

"You kind of went mental there for a moment," Remus told him kindly, trying to put some warmth into his voice that Sirius didn't even register.

"Di-did I?" he muttered, and then he shook himself like a wet dog with a rabid cat on its back. When he was done doing that, he looked around again with far more sense, and his eyes landed on Harry. Sirius swallowed hard, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. What exactly he was trying to say, apologize for being absent, ask him if he knew what had happened, or anything else for that matter just wasn't getting past his lips.

Harry took pity on him and addressed both of those questions, "I'm not mad at you Sirius. I've only known you for a few days and I know you'd never do anything to get sent there." Harry very carefully avoided using the word of said prison; Sirius still looked likely to faint at any moment. "I still don't know what happened either, I just knew I remembered you. I'm not afraid of you though, and don't you think I'd be afraid of someone who I knew was a mass murderer?"

"Murderer?" Remus repeated eagerly, as Harry immediately dissolved into grimacing and rubbing at his temple as words slipped out that he had no knowledge of. Just this small little dig and he was already back to that horrid pain that sent white hot flashes through him.

Remus retracted at once, very much wanting to find out exactly what Sirius had been accused of, but unwilling to persist Harry in the matter. It was ridiculous after all, Sirius was a hot headed idiot on a good day, but he would never do something like murder. Or, well, maybe he would...

Harry cut in with another question instead, "but how did you know where I was? I didn't really think you'd ever been to the Dursleys?"

Sirius didn't really answer, he still looked like he was in a daze, and Lily answered, "the Order knows where Petunia lives, her address anyways. I've it listed under people who should be contacted if I die, which I need to fix," she added to herself with a mutter, ignoring the flinch that caused James for the suddenly very real threat. "It's how Dumbledore and McGonagall even knew where Petunia was living back in the first book. It was dangerous though," she finished with a sharp look at Sirius, "for him to still go there. Any fool who knew you would know you'd go and seek out Harry."

Still this gained no reaction from Sirius.

James was still grumbling mutinously as Lily finally convinced him to take his seat, the parents still eyeing Harry with some concern. Experience had already told them if he continued in this way, his body would rebel and he would end up crumpling to the ground in pain, so Lily was now very eager to keep going and read. James only shut himself up for now so that he could see what exactly was going on here.

where the name Sirius Black plastered across the headline.

Sirius convulsed slightly, hearing his name like that. He had been, well not content per say, but had accepted that he must have died shortly after James to have been absent so long. Now that he found out where he had been, he pondered whether he'd just as soon be dead. Then he grit his teeth and began mentally pummeling himself for that thought. He was alive, which meant that he really could get out and find Harry. It all came together very clearly in his mind now. Whatever he had been accused of doing didn't matter, how he had even gotten out didn't matter. That black dog Harry had seen, it must have been him! Which meant he would finally be able to do what he'd always swore he would, look after his godson. The why's and how's didn't even matter, so long as he could just do one simple thing and keep an eye out for him.

Stan laughed, saying he'd been all over the news, yes even the Muggle's and Harry should keep up more. He handed Harry that section of the paper, and Harry began to read,

Lily released a very shaky breath, mixed feelings twisting inside of her as she realized she very well might just find out what had happened, and almost not wanting to find out. Whatever it was, this wasn't going to be pretty, but she pressed on anyway.

about this man who had been held in Azkaban was still on the loose. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was trying to stop the public from panicking, and denied any knowledge of how the escape had even happened. Everyone had been warned to keep an eye out for this deranged man, who'd been locked away twelve years ago for killing thirteen people with one spell.

Some kind of life finally reappeared on Sirius again, but it wasn't the kind anyone wanted to see. He laughed, and it wasn't his usual jovial cheer, this already had an edge of madness tinging it as he leaned as far away from everyone as he possibly could.

Remus punched him on the shoulder, hard.

"Ouch," Sirius whined, and Remus sighed in relief to finally have gotten a normal response out of him. "What was that for?"

"Shut it," Remus snapped, "and quit acting like an idiot or I'll do it again."

"How does someone so scrawny hit so hard," Sirius muttered, slumping back down, and wondering if he could get away with listening to this on another continent.

Remus hadn't really meant to hit him that hard; he had actually been projecting his own annoyance at himself in that throw. How could he have thought something like that of his friend, even for a second? Yes, Sirius had made quite a few threats against members of his family, even Snape from time to time, but he'd never meant them! That accident when they were kids was just that, an accident. He'd forgiven Sirius for that a long time ago, so to even consider him to do something like that now felt like a betrayal.

"This is foul," James snarled, looking far more likely to rip someone's head off than Sirius himself in that moment, "how could anyone think you'd done this!"

They were all stumped. They of course knew Sirius quite well, but to the general populace he was simply a name attached to one of the pure-blood households. It really wasn't much of a stretch at all to think a Black would pull this off.

Lily wanted very much to sit around questioning how all of this had gone in trial, what kind of evidence had been used against Sirius in the matter, but since no one here actually knew the answer she didn't even touch on the question. She gave all of the boys a pitying look, but with James' almost comforting words still in mind she read out the full charge.

Harry looked at the picture again, of the man with such sunken features it was a wonder he was even breathing.

Sirius then balked and shuttered all over again, remembering Harry saying how non-human he had looked. He'd heard stories about how that place sucked the life out of you, but it was more unpleasant to picture yourself like that.

Harry had only ever seen pictures of Vampires before, but he would have put money this man looked just like one.

Remus jerked away from Sirius in surprise as he made a pitiful noise deep in his throat, and then bent towards him in concern all over again. "Sirius, I think you stopped breathing again."

"Sorry," he muttered, "just trying to picture it, and it's not much fun."

James was bouncing in place in his seat, still with that manic energy that he needed to go curse someone into oblivion for this slandering, and also dearly wanting to go sit next to Sirius now and hug the life back into him. They could hardly blame him for reacting like this, but it was still creeping them out how he had yet to regain any of his normal coloring and actually seemed to be getting paler the longer this went on.

Harry handed back the paper, Stan not even fully looking at the picture as he commented on what a creepy looking man he was. Harry was stunned as he asked that Black had really killed thirteen people at once, and Stan was nodding along, adding details that he'd been caught doing it in broad daylight, with witnesses all around.

"Bollocks," James hissed, "a big, rotten pile of steaming-"

"James," Lily sighed, "we're all mad at this, but I want to hear it anyways."

James' upper lip curled in a sneer, he didn't look like he was going to back down one bit, until Sirius finally gave an intelligible sentence again and said, "let it go James. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you find this so ridiculous, but I want to hear this too."

"Might help us figure out who really did do it," Remus added on quickly.

James huffed and crossed his arms, while Harry simply sat there nodding along with his Mom. He knew the answer to this. He had never been so sure of anything since he'd woken up here, and he dearly wanted to find out now because it felt majorly important to him. Like something bad had happened, simply because he hadn't known this information...

Ernie added on that Black had been a well-known backer of You-Know Who,

Lily couldn't read that sentence without snorting in disbelief, while the other four boys made choking noises of disgust at such a ridiculous accusation. "Where is he even getting that from? He didn't know you," Lily demanded of the book.

Sirius gave her a wan smile, pleased she seemed to find this as outrageous as anyone else. Sometimes he wondered how much she really did like him, considering how often she threatened, yelled and berated him. And now her snarky little joke from before actually seemed to have come true. Watching her now though, he no longer had a doubt in his mind.

Harry corrected Voldemort without thinking about it.

"Well this should be fun," Remus noted absently, noticing Harry still didn't seem to realize he shouldn't be spouting that name without thinking about it.

Ernie jerked the wheel of the bus so hard in shock, a whole building had to jump to the side.

"Still love that you do that so casually," Sirius said a little too loudly, obviously trying to force a devil may care attitude. The others didn't buy it, but it was a nice attempt.

Stan looked likely to faint from shock, demanding to know why Harry would say that name! Harry apologized, saying he'd forgotten people didn't like that.

"You forgot?" James laughed lightly, not anywhere near over his shock and anger that his best friend had survived, but enjoying Harry's unintentional humour all the same.

Stan wasn't buying it, still rubbing at his chest from shock, and Harry tried to change the subject by repeating that Black had been a supporter of You-Know-Who.

Sirius went so bug-eyed all of a sudden, Remus had to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing hold of him to make sure he really didn't fall over this time as Sirius nearly shouted, "oh bloody hell!"

"What?" James yelped in concern, Sirius was more than scaring him now with these awful freak out moments he kept having.

"This!" he snarled, and it finally looked like he was edging back to his normal self, except now he was truly pissed at something as he continued to nearly shout. "This is the first thing Harry hears about me! He's grown up not even knowing my name, and the first thing he ever hears about me is that I, I'm a-"

"Oh Sirius-" Lily muttered, while Remus really did look like he was fixing to hug him. Sirius was in no mood, he had built up enough steam that he was going to keep going until someone forcibly muted him.

"Don't any of you apologize! I've dealt with a lot of crap so far, but this!" He continued in this way for so long, he actually started to go hoarse, but none of them stopped him. They felt he more than deserved it.

When he finally did subside, now absentmindedly rubbing at his throat and looking far calmer and more himself, Harry was quick to cut in, "if it helps at all, I know you now."

Sirius grunted, though maybe he didn't verbally reply because his vocal cords were still coming back, but, after a quick look from James, Lily decided to keep reading now before Sirius got his voice back.

Stan agreed, telling Harry about how some of You-Know-Who's other followers had been caught right after his downfall, and had come in without much of a fight, but not Black. Others said he was his second in command, and was even going to take over for You-Know-Who.

"The fact that anyone believes that is sad," Remus sighed. "I've heard of some pretty nasty Death Eaters, and even they don't have the gall to go around saying that, they'd be killed by Voldemort himself."

"Most likely this is all rumours that happened after Sirius was framed," Lily pointed out, "details were exaggerated; the worst of it always comes after the act itself."

"Glad you two think this is so interesting," James huffed, since Sirius' indignant look clearly said he was thinking that, but he was still rubbing his throat and couldn't say it.

Remus looked slightly offended for a moment that James thought he meant it, but then he backed down when he realized it was more of a really dark joke.

Lily didn't deign them with a comment at all; she just kept going and hoped for more actual evidence than slander.

Then he told how Black had been found in a Muggle neighborhood, and that he blew up the street rather than go in, killing twelve Muggles and one wizard.

"Ah, how would someone go about making that look like me?" Sirius said in mild concern, finally getting his voice back and seeming to lose it all at once.

"There are several ways," Lily frowned, "but my main issue is then what happened to you?"

Remus snapped his fingers and said, "what if the person who did this simply made themselves look like Sirius, then the Ministry came and got him after the fact."

"Wouldn't be the first time someone blamed him for something he didn't do, because of his name." James agreed, hardly looking pleased that they might have figured this out, since he still wanted to murder the fool who had thought they could frame his best friend and get away with it.

Harry was pondering how he felt about this. For some reason, it didn't feel right. There were huge chunks missing, and the set up his family had offered wasn't quite right, but as always he just wasn't sure how to best put those pieces together.

Then he told of what Black did after the fact, he sat there and laughed. Just sitting in the streets laughing when the Ministry showed up and properly arrested him, probably because he was mad.

"Mad in the emotional sense," Sirius sniffed. "I like to think I'm a little saner than just standing around after something like that ouch-" he cried again, giving Remus the stank eye. "Why do you keep hitting me? You're supposed to be the nice one."

"You don't get to joke about this," Remus told him with one of the sternest looks anyone had ever seen. "Not this Sirius."

Sirius opened his mouth, a nasty little retort already in place, when he shut his mouth just as quickly and nodded his ascent. The joke had slipped out before he thought about it, same as most of his jokes really. Now though, looking at his friends, he recognized it was only going to make this worse.

Then to everyone's surprise, Lily spoke up, "don't be too hard on him, Remus. You know he plays off things to show how aloof he thinks he is. If making stupid jokes helps him to cope, don't beat him for it."

"My jokes aren't stupid," Sirius snapped at once, then he went bright-eyed and cooed, "aw, Lily, that's the first time you've ever defended me."

"Don't get used to it," she smirked at him.

James and Remus didn't really look happy, feeling they'd rather strangle someone who made light of this situation regarding their friend, but so long as Sirius was the one doing it they couldn't really say too much.

He'd spent the rest of his life in Azkaban, though Ernie reflected that if he wasn't mad before he went in there he most certainly was now, of course he did deserve it.

"Someone certainly deserves that place," James agreed, "but it's too good for what I owe them."

There was a big cover up from the magical community, telling how the big explosion had been some sort of gas leak, but now Black was out again, and he was the first to ever have done it, and nobody knew how.

"That is still a very good question," Sirius nodded to himself, cocking his head to the side and actually considering the matter. "Or why I didn't do it earlier, like as soon as I got there. Why now?"

"I got nothing," Remus shrugged.

"Can we not think about this," James moaned, "I really don't want to think about this anymore than I have to."

Harry frowned, he had honestly wanted to hear if his family had any theories on the matter, but his Dad now looked as ghastly as Sirius had before. His anger seemed to be subsiding, and James was starting to push past his outrage at Sirius being there, to Sirius being there. Alone in that dark, creepy place where no one would normally survive more than a few years, and Sirius had been there for twelve!

The others recognized this as well, and Lily was quick to move on.

The two elders were still talking about how terrifying that prison was, and Harry couldn't help but reflect how this conversation would go in a few weeks when word got around that Harry Potter had broken wizarding law. Would he end up in Azkaban to? Were Ernie and Stan going to be sitting around laughing then about how he'd blown up his aunt and made a run for it?

That released a startled laugh from Remus. They had just found out something major, life altering even. Nothing this bad or emotionally horrifying had come up since the first chapter of the first book, and here Harry was. Thirteen and caring nothing for his would be Uncle's state, but simply still worried about something as petty as accidental magic. It wasn't really funny, but it made him laugh anyways.

Sirius was dearly tempted to punch him then, more for payback than actually wanting him to stop, but he was already trailing off and Lily was still eager to keep going.

Harry had broken the law, just like Black.

Sirius made to open his mouth again, but this time it was Lily who cut him off and said, "don't. I do not want to hear some stupid joke about that one."

Sirius huffed, she had just defended him and now was the one stopping him from saying 'he takes after me' but on retrospect, that really was a little too dark of humor even for him.

Was inflating Marge bad enough to land him in Azkaban?

"Not even close," James shuddered in disgust, wanting to vomit all over again at Harry going anywhere near that place.

He'd never been there himself, but he'd heard nothing but terrible rumours about the place, even Hagrid, the strongest man Harry knew, had all but begged not to be sent there.

While it did keep things in perspective for Harry, Lily dearly hoped this was the last time that horrid prison would be mentioned, because now every time it was all three of her boys winced at the very thought of the place.

The trip wore on, and the scenery outside continued to change around as passengers got off. At one point Stan went to go get Harry his hot chocolate, but managed to spill it all over him at the next take off.

"What, it didn't have a lid?" Sirius asked absently.

"Not the best time to drink that anyway," James shrugged. Their light commentary still seemed to be lacking, and they were now beginning to wonder how long it would take before they could actually sit around and absorb this new information.

When Harry was the last one aboard, the Knight Bus set off for the Leaky Cauldron, daybreak beginning on the horizon.

"Wow, you were on that thing all night," Lily said in surprise.

"You said the ministry would be tracking me," Harry frowned, "how come they wouldn't have caught up by then?"

"You would have been moving around too fast," Lily shrugged when it looked like none of the boys were, "so by the time you were pinpointed, the bus would have been off again. I'm sure they'll catch up to you before you leave Diagon Alley though."

Harry frowned, not looking remotely comforted by that. The horrid news of Sirius had distracted him now, but his thirteen-year-old self was still firmly upset by the matter with Marge, and even more so if he was going to be forced back to the Dursleys for the rest of the summer. He might have been the only one thinking about this though; the others were clearly still out of it.

Harry's plan was still in place, now deciding what he would do after he got his money.

"Could go see the country," Remus joked, "might be fun for a while anyways."

Lily just ignored him, knowing full well Harry wouldn't be able to get that far.

The bus came to a stop, and Harry was getting help from Stan unloading his stuff when a voice behind called out a greeting to Harry.

"Who do you think that is?" James asked, finally an actual distraction from the fate of his best friend.

"He knew Harry by name," Lily puzzled, noting just the first name and not his full name like some awestruck person might have, "you think they sent someone who knew Harry personally?"

"Well you tell us," Remus pointed out.

Harry nearly dropped his stuff in shock as he saw the Minister of Magic.

"Say what!" The ones without the book yelped.

"Surely the Minister himself wouldn't have come after you?" James said in surprise.

"Well why not?" Remus acknowledged once the shock had worn off. "He is the famous Harry Potter after all. He might have gotten some special attention for his bit of acting out."

"I keep wanting to forget that honestly," Lily sighed, "but I guess it does make sense."

He came forward and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, while Stan was caught off guard, saying how he'd thought this was Neville. Fudge looked at him curiously as he corrected that this was Harry Potter, and Stan shouted that he'd known that all along.

"Sure he did," James scoffed, now frowning as he realized Sirius seemed to have gone quiet again. He was still obviously paying attention, but normally that would have been his line. 

Fudge turned back to Harry then, inviting him inside and then asking the bartender, Tom, for a pot of tea in one of the rooms, hand still firmly holding onto Harry's shoulder.

"That's starting to annoy me," Lily frowned, "where does he get the right to hold onto you like that. He doesn't think you're going to make a run from him does he?"

Harry just shrugged; he had no idea about the Minister's motives.

Stan and Ernie were coming in from behind, carrying Harry's stuff, and Stan asked why Harry had lied, still calling him Neville.

"Is he going to keep calling you that?" Remus asked, slightly amused.

"I'm okay with this," Harry smiled weakly, "it's better than being treated like famous Harry Potter."

The Minister dismissed the pair, and Harry was led away into a private office where he was seated, and then Fudge introduced himself and his title.

"Glad you already knew that, or this would have been even more awkward," James nodded.

Harry had already known this, having once seen him in person, but as he'd been hiding under his cloak at the time, he didn't think Fudge needed to know that.

"It might have been a spot funny if you had though," Remus pointed out.

"Still glad he didn't," Lily frowned at him, "it's too odd to explain."

"Could have seen him in the papers or something couldn't he," James shrugged, still keeping an eye on Sirius who was still being far too quiet for his liking.

Then Fudge turned to telling Harry that he'd been quite worried when Harry had run away from his family's house, something terrible could have happened, he had been starting to think...but then changed the subject.

"Started to think what?" Harry asked with interest.

"I've no idea," Lily frowned, "perhaps that you were going to head out somewhere else and it would be harder for them to find you."

No one offered anything else, but they did wonder if Harry's name really was the only reason Fudge was there. What else could it be though?

Telling that they had deflated Marjorie Dursley,

"Still one of the best sentences I've heard all day," Remus muttered to Sirius, and then frowned when he only gave a weak grin back.

and that her memory had been changed so that she didn't remember a thing,

"Almost a pity," Lily sighed, "might teach her not to go spouting such crap to a child."

"I love you," James grinned at his wife, adoring that she had only beaten him by a second on saying that.

concluding that no harm had been done. He then looked over Harry with a warm smile, like an uncle watching his favourite nephew.

Which caused Remus to sniff in disdain. He, much like Lily and James, seemed to find it personally offensive when anyone compared themselves to Harry's family, only a few exceptions came to mind. It bothered him all the more when Sirius didn't even flinch at the sentence.

When Harry said nothing, Fudge did say that Harry was probably worried about the Dursleys reactions, and while they had been angry, they were willing to let Harry come back next summer,

"No," James moaned, putting his face in his hands now.

"My sentiments exactly," Harry sighed, unable to think of anything else to say to that.

"Here I thought you'd finally gotten away from those..." Lily trailed off into a few foul mutterings before clearing her throat and reading.

but Harry protested he never wanted to go back there again! Fudge was shocked, saying that he was sure Harry still loved them, erm, deep down.

"Like the pits of hell deep," Remus huffed, "where fondness equates to hatred."

"Poetic," Lily noted.

"And true," Harry agreed.

Harry in no way agreed, but didn't argue the point. Fudge then spoke about what Harry would do in the meantime, and suggested he just stay here at the Leaky Cauldron for the remainder of his vacation. Harry interrupted by pointing out, what about his punishment?

James made a funny choking noise like someone had just elbowed him in the throat. "Did you really just ask that? Harry, why on earth would you?"

"It didn't make sense," Harry shrugged, still finding this odd now as he explained, "every other time I'd done magic, I'd at least gotten a warning. Now, here I had done something really serious, and nothing."

Harry had used that word on purpose, he had been trying to elicit a reaction from Sirius like everyone else, but the man still seemed so out of it he wasn't going to bite. James and Remus exchanged very worried looks, wondering what had made him bounce back so hard when he'd been trying for a moment to come out of it, while Lily offered an explanation. "Perhaps because they went there themselves and saw what happened? No one could possibly blame you for your actions, the way they were treating you."

Harry didn't really agree, but he wasn't going to argue the point either.

Fudge gave an uneasy laugh, saying why would he do anything like that? Harry insisted that he'd been told off last summer for a house-elf doing magic in his house, and the Ministry had warned him he'd be in real trouble if it happened again.

"Are you trying to get yourself kicked out," Lily demanded of her son.

"I just wanted an explanation," Harry reminded.

"Well, they didn't know a house-elf had done that last summer," Lily reminded him, "and they say expelled as a severe warning. You still haven't done anything bad enough for that to be a real threat."

Harry nodded in acceptance.

Fudge brushed him off though, trying to say that things were a little different now, given the fact that, well- then he blurted that Harry shouldn't want to be expelled?

While most of them simply put this down to Fudge being really bad at explaining the system to Harry, none of them noticed Sirius finally reacting again, by his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Harry agreed he didn't, then Fudge declared there was no more need to talk about it. He got up and left, but Harry still couldn't believe this. Then he reflected it was odd enough that the Minister of Magic himself had even shown up here.

"I think you're reading too much into it," Lily told him lightly, "it's really not that unusual for someone to have come after you. Maybe not the Minister himself, but still."

Harry still wanted to disagree with her on that, there was something he wasn't quite remembering that would prompt said Minister's motives, but he had no clue as to what.

It really didn't add up that the Minister would come after wayward school children to deal with this. Fudge came back then, saying that Tom had a room for Harry, but then Fudge requested that while he stayed there, he shouldn't go into the Muggle world.

"Who's he to tell you that?" James scoffed, finally dragging his eyes away from Sirius to look at the book in annoyance. "It's none of his business where you go."

"I don't really blame him for this," Lily shrugged, "he is underage by all accounts, so it's not that weird for wanting to keep him in a smaller, magical community."

Harry agreed, but did ask why.

"Glad at least Harry questions it," James huffed, still rather annoyed by that.

Fudge just said that he didn't want Harry to get lost again, it was better for now, then he trailed off again.

Sirius narrowed his eyes further, taking note of that as much as Remus and James noticed him doing it. Was this really what was bothering Sirius so much, the Minister appearing? Sirius hated the Ministry, which had only increased, they were sure, because of what they had just found out, but this seemed a little odd for him to have such a dislike of someone who really hadn't done anything wrong yet.

Sirius declined telling them what was really on his mind. Which was that, like Harry, he was wondering if there wasn't something more going on right there, something to do with a supposed supporter of Voldemort suddenly breaking out.

Harry then randomly asked if there was any news on Black, and Fudge flinched in surprise.

Far from looking pleased, Sirius slumped back in his seat and grumbled something under his breath Remus didn't catch. He noted the act though, and he and James shared another look, hardly wanting to wait until the chapter was over anymore to get him to talk.

Fudge tried for a laugh that didn't work, saying that they had nothing yet and the Azkaban guards were quite angry about it all,

"Can Dementors be angry?" Lily asked, never having considered this. "I've never known them to hold an emotion really."

"They can certainly express themselves if they wish, just not the way you're thinking," Remus offered, realizing in that stretch of quiet he was expected to answer. He didn't look up to elaborating, which was odd enough for him, so Harry didn't ask what a Dementor was.

Fudge made to leave then, but Harry jumped in with one last question, reminding that as a third year he could go to Hogsmeade,

James smirked then, happy his son still had a way of distracting him from something like his best friend acting weirder as time went on. "You would ask something like this after the night you've had."

"I had to put up with all of that crap, and I still didn't get it signed," Harry shrugged, "it was worth a shot."

but no one had signed it for him. Fudge tried to stall by saying he wasn't Harry's parent or guardian of any sort.

"He's got a point," Lily frowned, hating the way this was turning out for him. "I hate to admit it, but it really doesn't look like you're not going to get to this year. You'll have to try something else with those Muggles next summer." The taste those words left in her mouth made her wish she could bite her tongue off so she'd never have to hear that again.

Harry tried to protest, pointing out his position, and that if he gave him permission,

"Too bad it doesn't work like that," James agreed absently.

but Fudge declined, saying this may be all for the best for now. Then he did leave.

Since they were watching for it this time, James and Remus noticed Sirius give an imperceptible nod at yet another action from the Minister. Remus, growing sick of trying to guess what Sirius normally would have said himself anyways, asked, "how much is there left Lily?"

She checked and told him, making them all feel a bit relieved, more than ready to take a break after this monster of emotional baggage had been dumped on them.

Harry was lead to his room, to find Hedwig inside.

"How did she know to go there?" Lily asked in surprise. "I thought she went to Ron in Egypt?"

"I've no idea," Harry beamed, more than pleased anyways.

Harry was as surprised as anyone while Tom explained that she'd just arrived a few moments after Harry, then he left. Harry sank onto his bed, staring around this room and the perspective freedom, without any Dursleys, for the next two weeks.

"No," Remus corrected himself from earlier, "that's the best sentence I've heard yet."

They all nodded in agreement with that.

He was tired though, so he slumped down onto the bed and fell asleep without even taking his glasses off.

"That's the end of the chapter," Lily declared, closing the book with a sharp snap of disgust.

Harry, who had noticed Sirius acting odd just as much as his Dad, decided he'd like to try and get a happier subject going.

"Err, so, about that police thing?" Harry asked hesitantly, since Sirius still looked a little vacant and Remus looked like he might not speak again for some time. James was shifting his weight around in so much unease he was practically bouncing in place, but decided to answer anyway. Yes Lily might get mad, but it was better than sitting around thinking about...

"Sirius and I were out doing some business for the Order when we realized we were being followed. We were on his bike, and so we hit the concrete since we were a lot bulkier in the air on it, and not ten seconds later we got the Muggles chasing after us, lights flashing. Still we gave them a chase around, hoping to lose both pursuers, when Sirius shouted back that he was going to pull over and for me to get ready. Of course I had no idea what that meant, but since he was steering I couldn't argue when he lead us into a dead end."

He glanced back over at his best friend, and while it was clear Sirius was listening, he still didn't look up to interrupting and stating his side of the story. More than concern was beginning to tighten up in James, that expression was really starting to scare him, but he finished off the story anyways. "So we were kind of cornered and being chased by two parties. The three Death Eaters who were chasing us above kept circling lower and lower, so we chatted up the cops until the Death Eaters finally lined themselves up and tried charging at us. We used the cop's cruiser as a wall, they crashed into it, and we bolted out of there before anyone recovered. Got the Ministry out there later to deal with the Memory charms and such. We didn't even get in trouble for the whole thing." He ended, sounding quite pleased with himself.*

He then turned to Lily, expecting a barrage of questions. It was clear from her expression she was annoyed she'd never heard of that before, and was going to demand to know exactly how old they had been, what they had been doing for the Order, etc. but she didn't. She remained just as quiet as everyone else. The silence dragged on into near uncomfortable levels until James finally took the book from Lily, checked his chapter, and then closed it and put it down, wondering what he could say.

HPHPHPHP

Finally! The Big Reveal! Hope I did it justice guys.

*I recognize in reading that fun little thing you can find at ( headsup. freeshell drumsticks/) that it states the boys are in their late teens, maybe just seventeen, but that means Sirius got his bike well before I said, so I went back and changed that. Hope you enjoyed the short, and started crying when you realized there's really not going to be a prequel.

More A/N, I know you guys are all sick of my words by now, but this is also something I need to address, a few people have pointed out that Snape heard the Prophecy and started this whole mess and Dumbledore immediately went to the Potter's and put them into hiding, but to that I say you really think his first thought was the Potter's? Dumbledore was running a war, and when this came to him, I like to think he had to actually look around even outside the Order to establish that only two current families fell under this threat, the Potters and the Longbottom's. Even after this, no due date is literally exact so he probably still would have waited until he was sure these two families were the ones. Even then, I still insist they wouldn't have immediately gone into hiding. If the Potter's had gone into hiding while they were still pregnant, then how on Earth did the rest of the world know Harry (and Neville) even existed if they were in hiding literally so much of the first year of their life. I don't think I'm making any sense...and I hope you all enjoyed the chapter you've been dying for so I'll stop talking/typing now.

[motorcitizens]

ive never seen anywhere to watch motorcity with subs? so i went looking and found transcripts of most of the early mc episodes (available in a reply so tumblr doesnt kill the post) but theyre missing a few towards the end. i decided on my fourth rewatch that id transcribe episode 9! whether youre a hard of hearing fan or just want the reference, here you go! let me know if the initials are annoying, ill edit them out.

-I got you with the slash!

-Nuh-uh!

-You first.

-Why me?

-Cuz you're dead anyway.

-There's nothing down here!

-Philip? S- stop fooling around, man. I- I can hear you down there.

-Aah!

[theme]

-The last time I bought anything from you, it took me a week to fumigate the kitchen!

-Okay, the reshcaps were a mistake, you're right about that. But today, I have something extra special...

D- ...then she says, 'that's why I can't eat the sandwich!'

[all laugh]

C- Wait, wait, I got one. Where does a snowman keep his money? In a snow bank! Eh? Get it? Come on, it's funny!

Th- We're searching for the Vanquisher, king of the realm?

T- Oh. I think they're talking about me.

M- Yeah, I have no idea who you're-

Th- There he is!

Burners- Chuck?!

T- [laughter]

R- Hey! You dare insult Lord Vanquisher? I should take your tongue and feed it to the birds.

T- Uh, you can't do that. I need my tongue.

C- Release him, Darkslayer.

R- ... Fortune smiles upon you today.

M- So, Chuck, you wanna introduce us to your... friends?

C- Guys, allow me to present: Thurman the Magnificent, and Ruby the Darkslayer!

Th: We are knights of the kingdom of Raymanthia.

C- It's called LARPing! [...] Live action role-playing? [...] Okay, I have a life outside of the Burners, you know!

D- Sure doesn't look like it.

T- Oh! I get it! Ahahaha!

Th- My Lord, a situation has arisen. The oracle awaits.

O- As you requested, Sam and Phillip were dispatched on a scouting mission early this morning. But we have not heard from them for many hours.

M- What do you mean you haven't heard from them?

O- I fear, Lord Vanquisher, they have gotten lost on the outskirts of the realm.

T- Texas is confused. Okay, now is this part of your little game or is this real?

D- We're standing behind some dude's van who calls himself the oracle. What do you think?

O- I demand silence!

J- I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm with Texas on this one.

O- Chuck! Make em stop.

C- Wait. Is this part of the game?

Th- No. Sam and Philip are really missing.

M- So, this is for real?

O- We need your help.

C- I vow to find our wayward kinsmen.

C- Guys, this is LARPing!

T- Woah. That's it?

C- Each weekend, teams battle for control of the realm. The rules are simple: First, once you step onto the field of battle, you must remain in character. Second, if you must be vanquished: do so with honor. It's neat, ain't it?!

J- The game's already started?

R- If by 'game' you mean a ferocious battle to the death for the crown of Raymanthia, then yes.

O- But we can't win unless we find our friends.

[at the same time]

C- I say we split up.

M- Let's split up.

M- No disrespect! Chuck- uh, I mean, Lord Chuck. What do you think we should do?

C- Ahem! If we split up, we'll cover more ground!

O/Th/R- As you say, Lord Vanquisher.

C- Okay guys. We'll check the warehouse near the old Renaissance center, you guys check the battlefield.

Th- I dunno where that is. Can somebody else drive?

M- So, King Chuck. How'd you win your crown?

O- It happened many weekends ago... Chuck stood as freedom's last hope against Mad Dog the Conqueror. If he were to fall, darkness would reign for yet another long weekend. Mad Dog summoned his dragon to finish off the Vanquisher once and for all, but fate had different plans. It was totally awesome!

C- Naw, it wasn't... that awesome.

D- Little dudes!

J- Sam! Phillip?

D- Where are you?

Guy- Huzzah!

R- Leave this to me!

Guy- The bards shall sing of this day... the day the Darkslayer fell!

R- Someone shall fall on this day... but it shall not be me.

[fighting noises]

Guy- Aha! Tsk, tsk. You've lost your sword!

T- hyah!

R- What are you doing! I had him right where I wanted him!

Guy- You're not playing by the rules.

T- These are Texas rules! [karate noises] Now. We need you to answer some questions.

D- We're looking for two missing kids, Sam and Phillip. Have you seen them?

Guy- I'd rather die a thousand deaths than help the likes of you.

J- Ahem! Forgive us, my liege, but we are but humble squires in search of our kinsmen. Can you help us?

Guy- I've never been one to refuse a lady, certainly not one as ravishing as you. Saw your kinsmen five hours ago, approaching the Dungeon of Anguish.

D- Neat trick.

Th- We're never gonna find them in time. Then the stupid Bardonians are gonna win, think they're all cool with their fancy mustaches.

C- Hey. Buck up there, camper! People said we'd never win the Battle Royale last Fall, but we did. Our friends are out there, and we'll find em! We just gotta keep-

M- Uh, sorry. Dutch just called. Your friends were seen someplace called the Dungeon Anguish?

Th- It's actually the Dungeon of Anguish.

C- It's, uh. Well, it's actually just in the basement right here.

C- Wah, ah! Get it off me, get it off me!

Th- This isn't part of the game!

M- Yeah, well, neither is this!

R- That was. Incredible!

D- What were those things?

M- Don't know. But I'm betting they have something to do with our missing friends. We have to move. [LARPers kneel] Uh, come on. Get up, guys, we don't have time for this.

O- From this day forth, you shall be known as "Mike, the Smiling Dragon."

Th- You just got a great name. Jealous!

C- For saving my life on the field of battle, I owe you a debt of life.

M- That's... really not necessary.

O- Actually, it's totally necessary. The king of the realm cannot rule while carrying a debt of life.

C- As such, I give the crown to the Smiling Dragon!

M- No. No, Please, look, I can't, I just- I was-

C- Mikey, you gotta!

J- Hey guys, check this out! I've never seen that symbol before.

D- That's really old.

M- Way before my time. Maybe Jacob can help.

Th- What if those... things have Sam and Phillip?

R- Never fear. We have the Smiling Dragon. As long as he's our king, we can't lose. Did you see his moves? They were just so- so-!

M- You okay, buddy? Look, if it's about what happened back there, I'm sorry man. I was just trying to help.

C- It's not that. It's just-

M- Just what?

C- Look, I tripped, okay?

M- Um... If that's some kind of LARPer slang, I have no idea what it means.

C- The story you heard. About how I earned my crown? That's not how it really... went down. It was my first real battle. I'd never held a real lance before. I was still getting my balance when Lord Mad Dog summoned his dragon... I ran forward but... I tripped. The lance fell and hit him by accident! I won my crown with a lie. Hey... it's better that you're king now. I was never fit for the post. I've been king for 48 consecutive weekends, and-

M- 48? Woah, you do play this game a lot.

C- Yeah, but... it took less than an hour of LARPing with you for the others to see me for what I truly am... a follower.

M- Hey, a follower couldn't have led his team to 48 consecutive victories. You can't fake that!

C- Mikey... Look, I appreciate your support but we both know I'm no leader. Not when I'm a Burner and not even when I'm here, playing make believe.

M- Here. Take the pin back.

C- You can't just give it to me! The only way I can get it back is to earn it by saving your life. And let's be honest. That ain't gonna happen.

Th- Never seen that tunnel before. You aren't planning on taking us down there, are you?

R- Well I'm going in!

Th- Do you know how much trouble I'll get in if my mom finds out I went down some crazy dark tunnel looking for killer robots?!

O- He's not joking. His mom is terrifying.

M- They're right. This isn't a game anymore. Texas will stay up here and keep you safe while we go get your friends.

T- What! Wait, why me?

M- Because you're the bravest warrior we've got.

T- Yeah, that's true, but come on! Don't leave me with the nerds!

D- What is this place?

O- Booyah! Mutant wolverine. I win!

Th- I could show you how to use that.

T- Save it. Not interested.

O- Why not? You're really good.

T- You really think so?

Th- Here, watch.

T- Hyah! Huh?

T- Mike, Julie! Incoming! We got trouble!

Th- Come on, I just got this!

O- Your mom is gonna be so mad.

J- This isn't working!

M- I'm open to suggestions!

R- A wizard!

Ja- Applesauce!

J- Jacob?

R- Aww!

Bot- The creator has returned!

M- Uh, Jacob? Care to fill us in?

Ja- It started back when Kane and I were partners- before there even was a Deluxe! I was designing our first ever Utility Bot. Its purpose was to make life in Detroit easier and safer. I equipped it with a new AI that would allow the bot to anticipate human commands, but I was the only one the bot seemed to listen to. But if it were ever to escape the lab, there's no telling the danger it could pose. I begged Kane to shut the program down! I always thought he did.

Bot: It began soon after you left us. Kane retrained us! We were instructed to capture enemies of the public and bring them back to Kane's new creation, an Interrogator. But the humans could not control it. Kane sealed the lab. Our new master told us every human was out to destroy us. As such, every human became our enemy. Disloyalty was severely punished. So we waited, until this door finally opened.

M- Our friends went missing this morning. Have you seen them?

Bot- Of course. We took them per our master's instructions.

J- We need to get them back!

[roar]

Bot- Our master has awoken. If he discovers you here with us, he will destroy us.

M- Get the LARPers out of here!

C- I'm not leaving you guys!

R- Our place is here, with our King!

M- This isn't a game! Get your friends to safety.

C- Let's move!

D- Come on!

J- Look out!

[rubble collapses the door]

T- Mike!

D- Julie!

Both- Jacob!

D- We'll never move this stuff by ourselves!

T- Says who?

Th- What do we do?

C- I know a way to get through there! But I will require your van.

Ja- There used to be another exit!

J- Hey, look at this!

M- The kids have to be in one of those rooms. If we can find a way past that thing we can rescue them and get the heck out of here! Think you can buy us some time?

J- Do you even have to ask? Hey, ugly! Over here!

M- Sam! Phillip! Climb up here!

S- You're the new king of the realm?

M- You bet your butt I am. Lord Smiling Dragon, at your service. Now get up that rope, squire!

T- Okay, I admit. It's pretty cool.

C- But is it possible?

D- Sure. But there's no way the three of us can build it fast enough.

C- What if they helped?

D- I know you don't mean the little lunatics that just tried to kill us!

Bot- We cannot get involved. If our master were to find out-

C- He's not your master! You are in Raymanthia. And in Raymanthia, every man- or... freaky little Utiliton- is free! Free to stand up for yourselves. Free to fight back! And free to live! Our friends are down there, and I swear to you on the steel of my blade that even if I have to slay the beast itself, we! will! bring them back!

[utilitons cheering]

T- hwah! Nah, see, this ain't nerdy. This is a level 25 battle ax, okay? Twenty five. Think about it.

Ja- Maybe there wasn't another exit?

M- Stay here!

M- Way to go, Chuck!

S&P- The Vanquisher!

T- Make way for Texas!

C- The beast is absorbing the blasts!

[mike gets got]

C- Mike!

C- Drive! and when I say stop, stop fast! ...STOP!

M- Ha, oh yeah!

M- For saving my life on the field of battle, I owe you my life. My steel is yours to command, since a king cannot carry... I forget how the rest of it goes, here! All hail King Chuck, the Vanquisher!

R- This was the coolest game ever!

M- ... the game. Your win streak. You guys have to go defend your crown!

Th- We'll never be able to muster an attack in time.

T- What if we help.

M- We're yours to command, Lord Vanquisher.

C- For the glory of the realm!

[all yell]

[mcwriting]

starstruck (5)

It’s finally here!!! I’m so sorry this took literally 5ever but it’s here now! Ch 6 is also written but I don’t plan on releasing it until 7 is done. In the meantime, I’ll be releasing some other things I’ve had in the works for a while so be on the lookout for those ;)

Thanks to all who’ve followed me and been reading! I love you!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Tommy Holland 

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2013

Warnings: a little bit of language; general sad time emotions

Rating: K+ still i guess

                            __________________________________

You had run up the stairs upon entering your house, yelling out a quick “hey I’m home” to your parents to keep from rising suspicion. 

You tossed your bag onto your desk chair and went and sat on the big bean bag in the corner of your room, curling up into it under a blanket. 

It was nearing 4 o’clock and you knew that the beans would be spilled any moment now. 

You were absolutely nauseous.

You refreshed Instagram over and over until a notification came up at the top of your feed.

Tomholland2013 started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

Tears slipped down your cheeks again and you clicked on it, turning up the volume as the obviously anguished face of your worst nightmare appeared on the screen. The way his eyes puffed unnaturally led you to believe he, too, had been crying. 

He waited a few seconds for people to join and weakly smiled. It broke your heart to see him in this state, but it pained you even more to know how it had come to this.

“Hey, everyone,” he began quietly, waving to the camera. You recognized the background photos from his hotel room and continued to weep harder.

Comments were rolling in, concerned fans asking Tom if he was okay and what was going on. Even some of his celebrity friends appeared to be confused in the comments.

“I wanted to address some rumors going on about me and the mystery girl. That girl is y/n y/l/n. We met by accident at the premiere last week and snapped a photo together as I’m sure you’ve all seen. Fast forward to only a few days ago, when I helped take her to the hospital.”

He paused. Comments were getting more frequent as the live stream continued, more people joining by the second. 

Your breath was caught in your throat and chest was heavy and tight.

Am I having a panic attack? you thought before Tom continued.

“I took y/n to the hospital because she injured her head and I happened to be at the right place at the right time. That’s all that happened. We have only met those two times and I am happy that I was there when she needed help.”

You help back sobs at this point, not wanting to alarm your parents but unable to suppress the emotions you felt about his lying.

“Every other theory or suspicion is false. Those photos were of me driving her to the doctor. Y/n and I have had no contact since the incident, so please don’t bother her any further. I just wanted to come on and say y/n, I hope you’re feeling better and doing well, and to let all of you fans know the truth.”

He looked away from the camera when he said “truth,” and you were angered more.

This wasn’t the truth. This wasn’t okay. This wasn’t the Tom you’d come to know and even consider a friend. 

“Finally, thank you all for the support on the movie and I love seeing your reactions. I will resume doing press this weekend when I head to South Korea and then China next week. I’m glad I could share this film with you and once again, I hope you’re feeling better y/n and that we could possibly meet again when you are okay. Thank you all.”

He gave a final wave and slight grin before ending the stream, struggling to tap the button multiple times and swearing a bit as he finally did it.

You wanted to throw your phone across the room and smash it to pieces and simultaneously lock yourself in the closet and never leave. Another part of you yearned to scream the truth over the rooftops and tell the world how horrible Tom was for this.

Now I know why I never liked him you imagined again. 

You finally worked up the courage to send one message to b/f/n.

I’m sorry.

You hit send and seconds later another text came through from someone else.

I’m so sorry. It’s done.

Who from? 

Clara twinkletoes, of course.

You tossed your phone away from you on the carpet and snuggled further into the bean bag, trying to muffle the sounds of sobs with your blanket.

                             __________________________________

Your parents called you down for dinner, but food wasn’t on your mind in the slightest.

You probably looked like you’d been hit by a truck as you made your way down the stairs, and your mom and dad noticed immediately.

“Oh my gosh, baby. What happened?” your mother fawned, rushing to you and placing her hands softly on your cheeks. 

“Tom Holland,” you mumbled, defeated. 

“Is that some boy I need to put in his place?” your dad asked sincerely, brows furrowed. 

You shook your head slightly and pulled away from your mother. 

“I thought that was the actor boy b/f/n likes but you don’t. Didn’t she go meet him last week?” she inquired.

“Look up his name online, I’m sure you’ll find the fabricated story somewhere.”

You apathetically began building your plate, scooping some lasagna out and grabbing a small bit of salad as your parents scanned the TMZ article that had been published with the help of an “anonymous source.”

“The source says y/l/n has shown previous disdain for the ‘Spider-Man’ star, but is grateful for the help he extended in her dire situation. Her social media is booming as both fans and haters flock to ask about her encounter, but no word has been published by her yet. It’s only a matter of time before the California native makes a statement. Most are calling her lucky, and we don’t blame her,” your mom read aloud. 

You thought you had no tears left to cry before, but more slipped down your cheek as you slid into a chair at the dining table.

“What is this?” your mom asked as she and your dad looked up from the article to you.

You started explaining everything over your dinner halfheartedly, trying not to let your emotions continue to get the best of you. 

They reacted with both concern and surprise as you told the story from beginning to present, choosing not to leave out the part where Tom had secretly been in the house a few nights previous. 

The lie was over, and the only way to move forward was with the truth, no matter how your parents would react. 

Upon finishing the tale, you looked up from your barely eaten meal to find both parents eyeing you sympathetically. 

“That’s it. That’s everything. Punish me how you see fit. Nothing could be worse than what I’ve already been through today.”

“Honey, we aren’t going to punish you. You’re an adult and you made some decisions that you can’t un-make. The consequences have already presented themselves. What matters now is how you move on from this,” your mom began. 

“And we’ll be behind you every step of the way,” your dad finished. 

You couldn’t help but smile and stood to hug them, welcoming their warm embraces. While cherishing the moment, you still couldn’t help but fear for b/f/n’s reaction.

“We may have to talk about you being able to sneak a boy into the house under our noses, though,” your father joked as you leaned into their arms.

                             __________________________________

You readied for bed after spending a few hours curled into the couch watching evening programming. 

You hadn’t looked at your phone once since receiving that text from Tom and dreaded looking at it, but decided to do so anyways. 

You saw that there was a message from b/f/n but decided to ignore it for now. 

Snapchat was filled with snaps from friends and acquaintances who had learned of the incident already. 

Leaving them on read was the only feasible option right now.

A quick scan of Instagram and Twitter shot your anxiety through the roof and you refused to make any posts just yet. 

The world would just have to wait for your mental health to improve.

Eventually you worked up the nerve to open the text from b/f/n, ignoring all others from family and other close friends. 

This isn’t you, it began.

You have a lot of explaining to do if you expect me to understand or forgive you, but I’m not writing you off just yet

Let me know when you’re ready to talk.

You honestly couldn’t believe it. 

Sure, you two had been friends for years and been through thick and thin, but you also knew how she could react in anger and be unforgiving for a long time. 

It took about 20 minutes of you staring at her texts and pacing the room to think up a reply, and your words still would never make up for all of it.

I really don’t know if I am ready to share, but I swear on my life that you’ll be the first to hear from me when I am. I’ll be in touch soon. Thank you, I love you.

With that, you placed the phone on the charger on do not disturb and you crawled onto the bed.

A certain scent hit you like a truck upon laying down. 

You inhaled sharply and tensed. 

That damned cologne was still there.

Sleeping like this was not an option, so immediately you got back up, headed out the door, and made your way to the guest room.

That would have to work tonight, and tomorrow you would have to decide between washing or burning your bedsheets. 

Those thoughts didn’t make it too far, though, because almost immediately after your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

                             __________________________________

You couldn’t do anything.

All day you had stayed in, afraid to be seen in public and even worse, be confronted about this. You couldn’t even make yourself go to dance in avoidance of your classmates.

Instead, you spent the day managing your anger and sadness through working out for almost two hours and eventually breaking down on the floor of your makeshift home gym. 

Your mom had taken off from work to keep watch of you and came in upon hearing you. She sat down on the floor and embraced you, ignoring the sweat covering your body and clothes. 

After finally managing to get up, you headed back upstairs and hopped into a long hot bath. Maybe that would cleanse you of all of this.

It didn’t. 

Later, you stripped your bed of the sheets and tossed them in the wash, dumping a scoop and a half of laundry detergent in for good measure. You also misted the bare mattress and pillows with linen spray just in case. 

You wouldn’t let anything remind you of him. 

The day went by too slowly as isolation set in. You couldn’t check social media because your feed was overloaded with inquiries, and you couldn’t talk to your friends because they were just as bad as the fans and haters. 

You were now sitting watching youtube videos while your mom watched tv. You weren’t paying attention until you heard the volume go up.

Upon looking up at the screen, you saw that she was watching Entertainment Tonight and they were running a story on you. 

It felt like your stomach had dropped to the floor when your name was said by one of the journalists. Even though you knew that what they’d say was false, you couldn’t look away. 

They basically recapped everything Tom and the TMZ article had said, but also mentioned that you had been talked about on other talk shows and gossip sites all night and day. 

Your mom gave you a sympathetic look, but you chose to ignore it all, rolling your eyes and continuing to try to figure out how to move on. 

Eventually you would have to leave the house and talk about it all, but today was necessary for self care and reflection.

                             __________________________________

That’s it for this one! It’s realllllll dramatic but oh well haha. Thanks for reading and sorry it took so long to put out!

If you wanna be added to the tag list, please send an ask or message bc I can’t reply to comments on posts since this is a side blog :(

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @worn-off

[fandom-imagination]

sk8ter boi ~ part one

【ｓｔａｒｔ　ｏｆ　ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ　ｎｅｗ】

Masterlist, Extended Synopsis

pairing: ricky bowen x oc

Warnings*: drug abuse, death/grief

Word Count: 2.8k 

A/N:  This is the first chapter of sk8ter boi! I really hope you enjoy it xx

Never did I think that my dad would be walking me to the principal's office on my second first day of junior year. But here we were walking the empty halls of East High. Walking through the quiet halls was weird, to say the least. One because I was so used to the constant hum of students’ conversations, slamming lockers, and other high school noise pollution. Second because seeing everything just reminded me of the things that happened in the past year, and in particular the last time I was here, escorted out on a stretcher. I shook the thought out of my head and continued walking behind my dad. I could tell he was thinking of the same things by the way he kept his eyes on the floor as he walked. 

Posters coated the walls warning kids not to do drugs or informing them on the signs of suicide. These were definitely new additions since the last time I was here, and for good reason. But it’s only a fraction of the things I’ll see and hear once the day really started. But I guess it was an unavoidable part of being in high school, dealing with the bullies and the drama.  

We turned into the front office and were greeted by Ms. Sullivan, the longtime secretary. She was a student here when my parents attended about 30 years ago and seemed to have migrated from student straight to secretary right after graduation -- according to my parents. As soon as my dad and I walked in, she jumped to her feet. “Frankie! How are you?”

She reminded me of a blonde Fran Drescher, even down to the nasally voice. Another thing to note is that she harbored a crush on my dad she’s had since high school and she made it very clear in the way she flirted. Which was weird since she worked with my mother for nearly 15 years. 

My dad smiled. “Good, thanks for asking. How are you, Donna?” 

“Great, ready for another school year,” she said. She looked past my dad to me and her smile faltered just slightly. “Francesca, it’s so great to see you back! How are you?”

“Fine, ready to get the year started.” 

“That’s great to hear! Mr. Gutierrez is in his office waiting for you, so you two can head on in.”

My dad and I walked into the office. My stomach literally dropped to my feet seeing the tense expression on Mr. Gutierrez’s face. “Good morning, Francesca, Mr. Yates.”

My dad and I exchanged a look and took our seats across from Mr. Gutierrez. The window behind his desk was open letting in a cool late August breeze. A faint layer of glitter covered his desk. 

As he sat down, he sighed. “Sorry if I sound preoccupied. A group of seniors got a jumpstart on their senior prank and now I have to deal with a senior hallway full of glitter. But, anyway, it’s so great to have you back Francesca. So many of your teachers expressed concern for you and asked when you would be returning.”

“Really?” I asked. When I thought about what people would be saying about me it never involved concern. But I’m still waiting to hear what my fellow students think. I got a taste of it on social media over the summer and I was just waiting for what they’ll say in person. 

“Of course! You gave everyone quite a scare back in April. They wanted to make sure you made a full recovery,” Mr. Gutierrez explained. “Now onto the reason for this meeting. Typically the punishment for use and possession of class 2 substances on school grounds is expulsion. However, given that it was your first disciplinary offense and the events of the past year, I’m willing to be lenient. You already missed two months of school and were held back as a result so, I don’t want you to miss any more school. I developed a plan where you will serve in-school suspension for the year. Which means no extracurriculars and you are prohibited from attending school-sanctioned events, including homecoming, prom, and various field trips.”

“So that means I can’t do anything besides go to class?” I exclaimed. I’d basically been on house arrest for the past three months. It felt like I was moving from one prison to another.

“I don’t think that’s such a bad thing, Franny. You need to be focusing on recovering and catching up with your schoolwork,” My dad said, squeezing my knee. I rolled my eyes. I was a straight-A student even when I was high as a kite, I definitely didn’t need a break from extracurriculars to focus on school. 

“On top of the in-school suspension, you are required to complete in school community service, beyond your graduation requirements,” Mr. Gutierrez explained. As soon as he said this I was already concocting a plan in my head to do the community service as part of some of the clubs I was in. But just as fast as the plan was formed in my head it was destroyed. “We have a new drama teacher starting this year. Since you know a lot about our drama department I thought it would be a good idea to have you work with her on the fall production. You will serve as her assistant and show her how the theater department works here.”

“Are you kidding me? You know the reason that I know a lot about the theater department is because my mom was the former drama teacher. You know the one that died less than a year ago,” I exclaimed. I clenched my hands into fists to steady their shaking.

My mom died of ovarian cancer 8 months ago. After she died, I avoided anything that reminded me of her. I wouldn’t walk by her office and refused to step foot in the theater. Working with the new drama teacher seemed like pure torture. I was sure she was a great person but I didn’t need a constant reminder that my mom was gone. 

“Francesca, I know you’re upset, but you need to be respectful,” My dad said. His eyes were full of pain. I know losing a mom was hard, but I could never imagine what losing the love of your life was like. “Now, Mr. Gutierrez, do you really think that’s a good idea? Having constant reminders of her mom could potentially be triggering and lead to a relapse.”

“I understand your concern. However, I see it as a way of carrying on the legacy your mom left here at East High. As you know she was a beloved drama teacher and her loss was felt throughout the school. I truly think this will be a great character-building experience. Additionally, I’ve heard the theater kids are a very welcoming and positive group which will be great for Francesca.”

“I mean, if you think it will be a positive experience then I trust you. However, in the case that it doesn’t work out, do you have a backup plan?” My dad asked. I glared at him. I couldn’t believe my own father would betray me like that. There was absolutely no way this would turn out okay. 

“We have many places in school that Francesca would be welcome to volunteer in. So if it truly comes to it, I would be more than happy to transfer her to any of the other volunteer locations in school.”

“Great,” My dad said. 

“As for her classes, she’s scheduled to retake her courses from the previous semester. However, she can make an appointment with her guidance counselor if she would like to transfer. And that’s it for what I have to say. Do either of you have any questions?”

“Uh, when do I get to meet this new drama teacher?” I asked.

“Why don’t you stop by her office before the assembly?” 

“Sure.” 

“Any more questions?” Mr. Gutierrez asked. My dad and I shook our heads. Mr. Gutierrez stood to walk us out of his office. “Well, thank you both for coming. Francesca, have a great first day. Feel free to stop by my office for anything. Mr. Yates, it was great to see you.”

As soon as the office door opened I could hear the students in the hallway. I turned to my dad, “Do you really think it’s a good idea for me to work with the new drama teacher?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I see how it could be beneficial for you. Continuing your mom’s legacy and working with the theater kids, sounds good for you. But the only person who truly knows what’s best for you is you. So give it a shot, if it doesn’t work out, then we’ll talk to Mr. Gutierrez.”

“Fine,” I mumbled. “I should go. I told Eli I would meet up with him and I still need to see the drama teacher.”

“Okay. Have a great day. Call if you need anything. And I mean anything. I’m only a ten-minute drive away.”

“I know. Thanks, Dad,” I said, smiling. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” My dad said. He kissed the top of my head and tried walking out of the office but Ms. Sullivan looped him into a conversation. I ducked out of the office before he could pull me into the conversation. 

The theater and drama teacher’s office were in the same hallway. Which somewhat made it easier to avoid going near them. I was able to avoid this part of the school for months and I planned to avoid it until I graduated, but as I’ve learned things don’t always go my way. Today will be the first time I even approached the hall in months.

I stood at the beginning of the hall for 5 minutes just staring. I felt paralyzed. The few people that walked by gave me strange looks but it was still early enough in the morning that the halls were pretty empty. 

“Come on, Franny. You can do this,” I whispered to myself. I blew out my cheeks and took a step forward and then other until I found myself walking down the hall. 

Beside the office door, was a large glass case. Usually, it displayed the current theater production, but right now it had an in memoriam display dedicated to my mom. A photo of my mom sat at the center of the display. Whenever I met one of my mom’s friends they would always tell me I was a spitting image of her. We had the same dark hair and dark skin, angular jaw, and dancer’s body. The only thing I inherited from my dad was our green eyes. Otherwise, I’m basically a reincarnation of my mom, at least in the physical sense. I could definitely tell in the way my dad looked at me sometimes, that he saw my mom. I definitely did whenever I looked in the mirror. Looking at her picture only reminded me more of what I lost. 

“You must be Francesca.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. The drama teacher popped her head out of the office and honestly, might have been watching me for a minute before saying something. “Oh!... Yea, but you can call me Franny.”

“Why don’t you come into my office. I only have a couple of minutes but I would love to at least introduce myself. Also, please excuse the mess, I’m still settling in,” She said. 

“It’s all good.”

Inside the small office, a few boxes sat scattered across the floor. Papers and books were haphazardly stacked on the desk. The only clear space was the small couch beside her desk. I took a seat while she shifted a few stacks to lean on her desk.

“It’s great to meet you. I already spoke with Principal Gutierrez. He said you’ll be working as my student assistant for the next semester and that you have experience with the theater department. Were you involved in theater before?”

“What?”

“You have experience so I assumed you were involved in theater somehow.”

“Do you not know who my mom was?”

“Uh, no.”

“She was the old drama teacher. You know, the one that died,” I said and her expression fell. I scoffed. “I guess you didn’t. Well, she was and that’s how I know a lot about the theater program.” 

“Oh, honey!” She exclaimed and crossed the space between us to wrap her arms around my shoulders. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you as my assistant. In my experience, theater has been a great coping mechanism. A truly powerful experience!”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Also, something that may get you excited is that we’re doing High School Musical for our fall production. And you’ll have a hand in the school where the famous movies were filmed putting on a production of the first High School Musical,” She said, smiling wide. She was much more excited than I was. High School Musical is cool and has a pretty good reputation here at East High, but musicals were never my thing. 

“Well, that seems fun,” I said. 

“Are you not excited? Am I just aging myself?”

“No. Musicals are just not my thing.” 

“Maybe we can change that during our work together,” She said, glancing up at her clock, “Shoot. It’s getting late. I would love to get to know you a bit more, but there are some things I have to do before the assembly. Oh, and I’m Miss Jenn, forgot to mention that. I have a meeting with Carlos, the student choreographer during third period. If you’re free, you should come to the meeting.”

“Of course.”

“And if you ever need someone to talk to about anything, my door is always open.” 

“Thanks, Miss Jenn. I’ll definitely stop by later.” 

“Cool. Have a great day, Franny!”

As I left her office I crashed into someone.“Franny!”

“Eli? How did you know I was here?” 

Eli, my best friend, held out an iced coffee for me to grab. We walked down the hall side by side. “You weren’t at our spot so I went to the front office assuming you were still in your meeting. I found your dad in a very uncomfortable conversation with Ms. Sullivan. He told me you’d be here. And surprisingly you were.”

“Surprisingly?” 

“Yes. You wouldn’t even walk by this hall last year. But kudos to you for making a big step in the grieving process.”

“It wasn’t really a choice.”

“A step is a step,” He said clinking our cups together. Eli and I had been friends since we were in Tiny Tots Ballet and he went by Ella. Since then we've been through transitions, coming outs, middle school, quinceaneras, and everything else. Honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. Which makes it hard to think about how he’s graduating this year and I’m not. “Anyway, I need a full rundown on what’s going on.”

“I’m on in-school suspension, so no clubs, or homecoming, or prom. And guess who’s the student assistant for the new drama teacher.”

He stopped short in the hallway. “You’re working for the drama teacher? Holy shit. Are you joking?”

“No. Except for the fact that my entire life is a fucking joke!” 

The sound of a locker slamming stopped drew our attention. Just a couple of feet away, Nini Salazar-Roberts and Ricky Bowen stared at each other. They were one of the most well-known couples in all of East High. However, it looked like there was trouble in paradise. 

“You know what you did! Or, what you didn’t do,” Nini shouted. 

Ricky flinched. He reached out a hand but she backed away. “Come on, Nini.”

“We’re done, Ricky.”

She walked away. The crowd around them parted to let her through. Ricky leaned his forehead on the locker beside him. I leaned down to Eli to whisper to him. “Do you know anything about that? The last thing I saw was that cute video on Insta.”

“Do you think Big Red changed over the summer? His hair looks different. Maybe redder?” Eli asked. I scoffed and nudged his shoulder. “What?”

“We just watched a full-on dump scene between one of the cutest couples like ever, and all you focused on was the best friend? You really do have it bad.” 

“Whatever. And to answer your question, I heard she was dating EJ.”

“EJ? As is senior, EJ Caswell. Mr. Wonderbread on the water polo team?”

“Yea, something about theater camp.”

“Huh, you go girl. Really getting all the cute ones.”

“Second that!” He said, raising his coffee in the air. 

“Will students please file toward the gymnasium for the assembly please?” Mr. Gutierrez said over the intercom. 

“I guess we’ll have to finish our discussion later,” I said.

[laruna]

— interloper.

characters. lim yuri, min yoongi, kim namjoon.

word count. 21.1k

genre. angst, fluff, friendship, romance, slow burn

warnings. underage drinking, hospitals, car accidents, mentions of family issues

summary. when yoongi feels like an interloper, yuri reminds him that he belongs.

November 7, 2011. Big Hit Entertainment Building, Seoul.

While Namjoon signed his contract until earlier that year, he still had to wait until the dorms were built to move in. Yuri gave Hitman Bang an earful when she found out he had signed him as a trainee when the company didn’t even have fucking dorms yet, but Namjoon fully assured her that it was okay and quelled her rage long enough to stop her from biting the poor old man’s head off.

But it all worked out eventually. Namjoon moved in when the dorms were built back in August, and without the awkwardness that parental presence at his house entailed, Yuri invited herself over as often as possible, practically making the dorms her second home. 

It’s almost a kind of domestic bliss, the way her and Namjoon lived before, cooking for each other and cleaning up the shitty company building until they get so tired they fall asleep on the floor. Sometimes, if she’s really lucky, he’ll offer to let her share his bed. You know, since all the empty beds are going to be occupied by other trainees eventually, and it’d be rude to give someone a used bed, right? Of course.

It’s a Monday when they go to the dorm and actually find the bed across from Namjoon’s occupied.

“...hi.”

The new trainee’s name is Min Yoongi. He’s only a year Namjoon’s senior, but despite the closeness in age, he doesn’t seem willing to bond with them at all. If anything, he barely talks to either of them. According to Hitman Bang, Yoongi is from Daegu, and the only speaks so little because he’s still trying to get used to Seoul’s dialect and is embarrassed that his satoori keeps slipping out.

Yoongi only talks when necessary, like a coworker. They spend the first week or so not talking about anything but work—music, in their case—but even that they can’t be friendly about. Despite their similar interest in hip-hop, Yoongi and Namjoon have very different approaches to rap music. To music in general, really.

Yuri can’t help but feel as if Yoongi has kind of an edge over them. On top of being a year older, he’s also both a producer and a rapper. Yuri is only the former and Namjoon is only the latter, so it’s like he’s got the force of them both combined. She can’t help but feel a little bit small, next to him. 

When they argue about something in the studio, he tends to use this as leverage, telling them to just listen to him because he knows better about this kind of thing. That escalates into arguing, which usually consists of Namjoon and Yoongi yelling at each other while Yuri desperately tries to mediate the situation. The current tally she’s been keeping in her journal shows that Namjoon having won two arguments, Yoongi having won six, and Yuri having successfully distracted them from finishing eleven. She likes to believe that means she’s winning.

Hitman Bang begs to disagree.

He finds out about it one day when he comes to visit her when she’s alone in the studio. The old man never knocks before entering, Yuri notes the invasion of privacy with annoyance. Even so, he kicks it up a notch by glancing over at the journal she’s left open on the corner of her desk. He laughs when he sees the page headed argument wins, pointing to the to the tallies by her name.

“I’m not surprised you’re in the lead,” he laughs. “You’re a menace.” She cringes when she remembers his first impression of her. She wasn’t exactly… tactful about it, but it got the point across well enough. Now that he’s her boss, though, she worries it’ll give him more reason to check up on her, and she would rather selfishly indulge in having some alone time with Namjoon.

“I’m not!” she defends herself, flustered. “I just know better than to waste my time arguing with boys. My points are for when I stop them from arguing, okay? Not having to hear them try to bite each other’s heads off is a win for me.”

“Hm.” He purses his lips at that, regarding her with a look she can’t quite read. She hates how unreadable he is. Her instincts have rarely failed her, but the old man is one of the few people whose energy has yet to come to her.

“Don’t be afraid of fighting,” he tells her after a bout of silence. “They should be able to fight if they’re angry. You should let them fight, let them yell if they’re angry. Even fist fights are fine. It’s okay to fight. Fearing fights only makes conflicts grow bigger.” Yuri shifts uneasily in her seat.

“I don’t like fighting. I don’t like yelling. I don’t like fists,” she says. “I get enough of that at home.” She doesn’t mean for it to slip out, doesn’t even realize that it does until the old man makes that face.

“Oh, Yuri.” He says it more sincerely than she’s ever heard from anyone at the dad age.

“Oh my God, no,” her voice cracks as she speaks. “We’re not doing that. We’re not having, like, a moment. I’m not emotionally prepared for that. I’ll cry and I’ll hate you.” He just nods at that, before awkwardly clapping a hand down onto her shoulder.

“Just remember that you can’t solve everything between them,” he says. “Let them resolve some of that on their own. You won’t be around to resolve things forever.” It feels like a jinx, the way he says it, but she still nods along.

“Okay,” she says. Sounds like simple enough advice to follow.

“And try to befriend Yoongi, okay?” he adds. She wrinkles her nose. That one seems a little harder.

“Okay,” she says anyways. She’ll definitely try.

Namjoon wrinkles his nose when Yuri proposes inviting Yoongi to the Lim household.

“He doesn’t really know anyone else,” Namjoon rationalizes. “Wouldn’t it be a bit awkward for him?”

“That’s the point, dummy,” she says, “I think it’d help him learn to get along with everyone, is all. Including us, hopefully. I don’t know.” Namjoon sighs, if only because she’s been getting harder and harder to say no to these days. He’s not sure why.

“Alright,” he agrees.

Unexpectedly, it’s significantly harder to get Yoongi to agree.

“I barely know you guys,” he deadpans, and Yuri winces. The I told you so look that Namjoon shoots her doesn’t help, and only reminds her of how much she’s always struggled with making friends. 

Hoping to spare her pride, she persists. This is the only opportunity she has to have everybody over in a while—she doesn’t know the next time her father’s going to be working overtime and they’ll have the house to themselves. Knowing him, the old man would probably bite her and Kyunghee’s head off if he came home from work and saw everybody over on a daily basis.

“You can,” she offers softly. “Get to know us, I mean. Please?” 

Yoongi only raises a brow, seemingly unconvinced.

“We have alcohol?” she offers, but the inflection makes it sound more like a question. Namjoon smacks her arm at that, only for her to shoot him a look that says, What? It’s true! Awkwardly, she adds, “Also, um, free food.”

And that’s enough to convince him, apparently.

Yoongi looks starstruck when he first enters the Lim household, suddenly feeling very small. Or at the very least, smaller than usual. He was easily the shortest of the company’s trainees, second-shortest of everybody in the building, towering over only the perpetually tiny Lim Yuri. He almost has a heart attack when said tiny girl takes his shoes from him to put in the garage. It’s her big-ass house, after all. Shit, just being here makes him feel like he should be the one serving her.

Yuri and Kyunghee explain that their father is out working overtime and... doesn’t really say anything about their mom, but the others know better than to bring something like that up unprompted, so they don’t.

The alcohol is present as promised, provided by none other than resident adult, Ikje. Was it illegal? Yes. Was that going to stop any of them? In the words of Donghyuk, ‘hell nah!’

What terrible, terrible influences, Yuri thinks.

She’s never had alcohol before, nor does she plan to have it anytime soon. Not for any legal or moral reasons, mind you—with the amount of alcohol so freely available in her household, she could probably sneak as much as she wanted whenever she wanted. Personally, she just thinks it smells weird and makes her dad act like a crazy person.

She’s only fifteen, but they make it seem fun. They take the thin metal tail of the soju bottle’s metal cap and tighten it into a straight, brittle line. Everyone takes turns flicking it until Kyunghee’s fingers finally break it off. He makes a face when Ikje fills the shot glass in front of him with soju as punishment.  

Yuri doesn’t miss the way he side-eyes Donghyuk before downing it, like he’s trying to make sure that he’s watching. Like he’s looking for approval. She wonders if that’s how she looks at Namjoon. She wonders if that’s how Namjoon looks at her. He’s on her brain too often, these days. Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon. 

They’ve gotten even closer since they made up, and she’s learned a lot more about him since then. He’s still the stickler that refuses to drink in public where he could get in trouble, but he still still laughs and encourages the others’ antics in private, maybe even allowing himself a shot or two. He is also more than the sexless smart dude that she stereotyped him as when they first met, as she has come to learn through his awful, nasty jokes. 

She really was right when she said that he had a whole solar system in his head. Whenever he seems like he could fit into some mold, he immediately proves her wrong. Kim Namjoon is everything.

In contrast, Min Yoongi isn’t much to her at the moment.

When she turns over to look at him, she immediately feels bad for not really paying attention to him the whole night, especially when she was the one to have invited him. The only reason she’s even paying him any mind right now is because he’s just situated himself next to her at the table, as a now drunken Ikje has thoughtlessly occupied his previously-claimed spot. 

Yuri isn’t sure if it’s because he’s not comfortable enough to drink around them yet, but she finds the way he innocently refuses to drink is a little endearing in the same way she found endearing when Namjoon refused to do so back in Hongdae. Instead, Yoongi opts to eat his entire body weight in meat, and is on what she believes is his third plate of fried chicken wings. Respect.

It’s a nice environment, and Yuri really is still adjusting to the fact that this is actually her life. She has a solid friend group that eats and drinks and laughs and plays stupid games together in her house. It’s relaxing. It’s safe. It feels like home. They feel like home.

It’s when they hear her dad’s car pull into the driveway a couple hours earlier than anticipated that makes Yuri remember, oh yeah, home kind of sucks.

In the next few minutes, their living room descends into absolute chaos. Kyunghee moves to swipe all the food and shot glasses off the table and into the sink, Yuri helps load them all into the dishwasher, Ikje is scooping all the soju bottles up into his arms, and everyone else is drunkenly scrambling out the back door. Once they’re all collected, Ikje climbs out the back window, for whatever reason. She blames it on his batshit drunkenness.

Everything is in the clear by the time their dad steps in. The entire scene is inconspicuous enough, Kyunghee passing Yuri plates from the sink to load into the dishwasher like they just ate a nice dinner. They even go so far as to force awkward smiles for their father, but he simply nods at them in acknowledgement before rubbing at his temples and makes his way upstairs, clearly still stressed from work. Kyunghee breathes a sigh of relief when he hears his father’s bedroom door click shut.

“We’re good,” he says, clasping a comforting hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Go lock the back. I’ll finish up the dishes.” Yuri nods, before making her merry way off to follow her brother’s orders. She nearly jumps out of her skin when she’s about to lock the back door and sees a male figure standing ominously in the shadows instead.

She turns on the back light, and lo and behold, there stands Min Yoongi, eating a fucking chicken wing on her back porch. And he has the audacity to look surprised, like she’s the one who shouldn’t be there on her own porch. Heaving a sigh, she steps outside, closing the door behind her as quietly as possible.

“What are you doing here?!” she whisper-yells. “Why didn’t you go with the others?!” It comes off as more aggressive than she intended, but the last thing she wants is for him to get caught and in trouble when she’s the one that invited him over in the first place.

“Namjoon went to sleep over at Donghyuk’s place,” he explains awkwardly. “Ikje went to sleep over at Hunchul’s place and, uh. I wasn’t invited to either. Ikje dropped me off here from the dorms, so… I don’t really know how to get back to the dorms from here.” 

Yuri heaves a sigh. She’s going to have to give everyone a stern talk about the importance of camaraderie and the no-man-left-behind policy. After shooting a quick text to her brother, she uses the house key hanging off of her lanyard to lock the back door.

“I know Seoul like the back of my hand,” she says. “C’mon. I’ll walk you back.” 

“I don’t know how I feel about you walking back home alone so late at night,” he says. “It doesn’t sound very safe for you.” His genuine worry makes her heart warm. Those unexpected moments of sweetness he has always throw her off. Not in a bad way, though. It’s nice.

Unfortunately, the rest of the walk is significantly less nice. They spend the first ten minutes arguing over whether or not it really is safe for her to be walking back home alone so late. He feels bad that she’s out because of him, but she insists that it’s fine as she’s done so many times before. 

“Taking the subway home and walking home are two very different things,” he admonishes her. She resists the urge to roll her eyes at his patronizing tone.

“Relaaaax. I’ve got pepper spray,” she justifies herself. “Also, I hold my keys between my fingers.” She even holds up her hands for emphasis.

“I’m sure you could give a good stabbing if you wanted to,” he snarks. He doubts the tiny girl before him is capable of causing any physical damage, even with a deadly weapon in hand.

“Are you making fun of me?” she whines, and he snorts, because it really should be obvious. “I’m just trying to make sure you get home safely, and this is the thanks I get?”

Yoongi stops in his tracks to think about it for a moment, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he does so. She obviously means well, as annoying as she may be. She’s also his junior, and when he thinks about it, he’s just being mean to her for no good reason.

“Fine. I’m sorry for being an ass,” he relents with flushed cheeks, more for his conscience than anything else. “It’s just that—I just like being alone with my thoughts when I walk, that’s all. You’re not annoying.” 

Or at least, not that annoying, he doesn’t say.

“I know I can be annoying,” she says so matter-of-factly that it makes him feel even worse. “And my brother can be the same way. He likes just thinking, too, so I can just be quiet if that’s what you want. I just want you to get home alive, that’s all.” His eyes soften.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her. “I can defend myself if I really need to. I was on my school basketball team, you know. Boxing, too.”

“With these noodles?” she says bluntly, reaching over and taking hold of his arm. “And how did you get into the basketball team? Aren’t basketball players supposed to be tall?”

“You don’t have any right to talk about height,” he says, staring down all 150 centimeters of her frame as he snatches his arm back from her. “And my arms are not noodles just because I’m not built like The Hulk.”

“We can’t all be Kim Namjoons, I guess. He’s got biceps for days.” Yoongi gives her an amused look at that, and she flushes uncharacteristically. “Sorry. That was weird. Just don’t—nevermind. I’ll stop talking now.”

“No, by all means, keep going,” he teases. “As long as you don’t mind me telling him about it later.” She gasps at that, smacking him in the arm.

“Oh, so now you want me to talk!” she huffs, smacking his arm. “You will be telling him no such thing, Min Yoongi! You don’t even talk to him about that kinda stuff, anyway!” He laughs as he jumps ahead to get away from her playful smacking, smiling so wide that Yuri can see his gums showing. They’re cute. She decides that she likes them.

“You really like him, don’t you? Namjoon?” he chuckles, far too blunt for her liking. It’s a special kind of adorable the way that she so visibly shrinks at his words, he thinks.

“We’re not dating, I, um—” she sputters. “Is it obvious? That I like him, I mean.”

“Relax,” he says. “It’s not. Really, I don’t think he knows. I don’t think anyone knows except Kyunghee, and I only know because of him.”

“My brother knows?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck that guy.”

Yoongi laughs at her sudden vulgarity. She really got really blunt and fiery when she wasn’t thinking, even with her seniors like him. It makes things feel a little bit more comfortable.

“Relax,” he repeats. “I think he just knows you? Because he’s your brother, I mean. He was like, ‘I just have to tell someone and nobody talks to you so it’s okay.’ So I doubt he’s told anyone else.”

Yuri nods, inclined to agree. She’d never tell Namjoon about Kyunghee’s crush on Donghyuk, and she has enough trust in her brother to know that trust goes both ways. Still, she feels bad that the exclusion Yoongi goes through on the daily is so obvious, even to her socially-awkward brother. But she has her own relationships to worry about.

“Just don’t, like. I don’t know. Interfere in whatever is happening, okay?” she huffs. “You’re the only one who knows, as far as I know. I just… don’t try to plant any thoughts in his head, okay? I want whatever happens to happen naturally. Because he likes me for me, or something.”

“Spoken like a true romantic,” he says sarcastically.

“Oh, stop it,” she whines. Yoongi laughs.

“I won’t,” he assures her.

He doesn’t know when they started walking again, but it feels just a bit less awkward and stilted now. Yuri’s just a couple steps ahead of him, guiding the way. Wrinkling his brows, he stops dead in his tracks.

“This isn’t the right way,” he says. “You take a left here.”

“No?” she says. “The subway pickup is right here.”

“I’m not taking the subway, I’m walking, remember?” he says.

“What?!” she says. She didn’t mind the fifteen minute walk to the subway, but this was too much. “The whole way? The whole walk back to the dorms is like, an hour, Yoongi! Jesus, if I knew we were gonna be walking the whole way, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Well, you don’t have to walk me home if you didn’t want to,” he says. “You’re the one who offered.”

“I didn’t think you were a crazy person!” she huffs. “Why don’t you just take the subway?”

“I spent all my money on chipping in for dinner, how the hell am I gonna afford a subway ticket?” he snorts. “Look, I can walk however long it takes, but I can’t spawn food out of thin air like you guys can.” He tries to say it as casually as he can possibly manage, but the venom still leaks through. Her face visibly drops when he says it.

“Oh,” she says, her voice tiny. “I didn’t… sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Stop that. You’re being weird,” Yoongi says. 

He hates this part. He hates the pity looks he gets from rich people like the Lims who have year-long subway passes their father bought—who, by the way, probably gets to sit pretty in a big office telling other people what to do while overworked laborers like his parents carry the South Korean economy on their backs.

But he digresses. He doubts she’s the kind of person who’d want to listen to his long-winded spiels on the economy or the government or the Gwangju democratization movement, anyway. Really, he doubts she’s type to need or think about funds at all.

Much to his surprise, she does.

“Okay, but like—just to make sure—money for that kinda stuff isn’t an issue for you guys, right?” she asks. “Like, Hitman Bang is feeding you guys?” There’s a level of threat to her voice that reminds him of the story Bang PD told him when he first joined the company, of her marching into his office to make demands for her friend’s safety. Loathe as he is to admit it, the image of it is equal parts genuine and endearing of her.

And maybe that’s why he feels the urge to spill his guts to her so suddenly, then. Maybe it’s also the warm, almost disarming energy in the way she talks to him now that they’re finally speaking one-on-one, despite his previous assumptions. Maybe it’s how innocent her eyes look when they shine under the Seoul streetlights.

“You know, I… I used to make beats out of a studio in Daegu,” he confesses. “Most of the time, I’d get scammed out of them, though. The guys who went in and out of the building would rip my shit off or use them but never pay me back, so like… I didn’t make much. But I stayed there because I still wanted to make music and using the studio was cheaper than buying equipment on my own.”

“Oh,” is all she says, pressing her lips together in a thin line. It’s definitely not the kind of thing Yuri and her brother ever had to worry about, seeing as they were so well-off. Hell, they were giving away the shit that Yoongi was slaving his life away over for free.

“So I couldn’t really pay for food or transport that easy, you know?” he continues, against his better judgement. It’s the first time he’s ever talked to anyone about this, and fuck, it feels so good. He can’t stop himself. “In front of the studio, there was this Chinese restaurant that sold jajangmyeon for 2000 won, and down the street, there was this place that sold janchi guksu for 1000 won, and like… I don’t know. It sounds stupid, but I had to worry about that shit everyday. If I ate the janchi guksu, I’d be able to get the bus and if I ate the jajangmyeon, I’d have to walk 2 hours to get home. So. I don’t know. I’m just stuck thinking like that, I guess. I know it’s not like… a thing anymore, but I feel using public transport still makes me feel guilty.”

“Mm.”

“Sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

“It doesn’t,” she reassures him. “I’ve just, um, never had to think about stuff like that. I’m sorry you had to, though. It sounds shitty.”

“Not your fault. Don’t apologize for something like that.”

“Okay,” she says, smiling up at him. “Thank you for telling me, Yoongi.”

“Uh. Yeah. No prob,” he says, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. His flush only darkens when she shoves a couple of won in his hand, and he realizes she’s been slowly guiding him in the direction of the subway station this whole time. “Wait, h-hey—”

“No, no, I don’t need it,” she says when he shoves the money back into her hands.

“But—”

“It’s fine,” she assures him, soft smile still gracing her features. “I’d rather not walk all the way back to the dorms. Just take it, you’ll be doing me a favor. You don’t have to pay me back or anything, either. It’s not that much, anyway.”

Yoongi frowns. As much as he wants to argue with her, he’s tired enough as it is, and he has no doubt she’d stay up all night just to stay here and debate this with him. 

“Okay,” he relents. She grins in what he believes to be triumph before gently taking hold of his hand in one of hers and placing the money back into his grasp with the other. She waits outside for the subway take off, like she’s afraid he won’t do as she says unless she sees it happen. When the train lurches to a start, he watches her figure retreat through the glass windows. 

There’s a stark contrast to her soft hands and the fussy way she thrust her money at him, he thinks. 

Lim Yuri is a strange, strange girl.

Namjoon jumps in his seat, startled when Yuri suddenly marches in, plops in to the studio chair next to him, and looks up at him with crossed arms and a very non-threatening scowl on her face.

“I have a bone to pick,” she says, and his brain immediately kicks it into panic mode as he rakes through his mind for anything that he could have possibly done to upset her within the past week.

Namjoon likes to consider himself a considerate person who wouldn’t want to upset anyone, but for some reason this feels different from pure consideration. At the beginning, Yuri was just Kyunghee’s kid sister who happened to help make good music. These days, though, she feels more like a peer than a junior, more like a friend than a dongsaeng. 

For whatever reason he can’t quite pinpoint, her opinion of him has become quite important to him as of late. The idea that he’s done something she disapproves of makes his hands sweat. Even so, he manages to keep his composure, nodding as calmly as he can manage.

“What’s up?” he asks, cringing at the way his voice cracks. The way she sighs as she scoots her chair closer to his amps his anxiety up to eleven.

“You guys need to be nicer to Yoongi,” she says sternly, “You all really excluded him last week. He said you guys all went to each other’s houses after bouncing out last week and he just had nowhere to go. Why didn’t you guys plan for that or something?” Namjoon droops inward, like a kicked dog.

“Sorry,” he says, face hot with embarrassment despite immediately trying to justify himself. “It’s just—it was just kind of weird because nobody is really close to him or anything. The only person he really talks to is Ikje, and they’re not really even friends. We didn’t know how to broach the subject with him, or if he already had plans or anything, you know?”

“You could’ve asked,” she huffs, “I mean, I walked him to the subway station so he could ride back to the dorms, so everything turned out okay in the end. But—”

“By yourself?” Namjoon cuts her off. “That’s dangerous. Did you walk back by yourself, too? That late at night? Something could’ve happened. Why didn’t you ask Kyunghee to do it?” Yuri shakes her head fondly at his worrywart antics, and he sighs in relief when she smiles. It’s a warm reminder that she’s really not that mad at him.

“You sound like my dad,” she giggles, gently shoving at his arm. “Stop that. I’m trying to be mad at you.” He can’t resist cracking a smile back at her.

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound apologetic.

“Anyway,” she continues, her tone considerably lighter, “Yoongi and I talked a bit when we were walking to the station, and like… I don’t know. It just made me realize how excluded he really was from everyone else. So can you just talk to him more, or something? And please try to get the other guys to talk to him more, too?”

“Yeah, of course. But for future reference, you could’ve called for a group discussion for this,” he chides, playfully adding, “I thought you were just mad at me for something. I really thought I did something wrong and didn’t know about it. You gave me a heart attack for no reason.”

“Sorry.” She laughs shyly now that it’s her turn to apologize. “It’s just—you’re the only one who really listens to me, you know? I feel like the rest of the guys kinda just see me as a little kid. I mean, I get it, because Kyunghee is my brother and Donghyuk is his best friend and Ikje is old, but like. I don’t know. I don’t feel like they respect me like you do, sometimes.”

Everything she says comes out in that nervous, rambly tone that she uses when she wants to keep things light, no matter how serious it actually is to her. Namjoon frowns.

“Sorry,” he says again. She shrugs.

“Not your fault,” she says, “I think things are gonna get better with Yoongi around, anyway.” Namjoon raises a curious brow at that.

“Oh?” is all he says. Yuri nods, like that’s an answer.

“He’s cool,” she says. “He was a little rude at first, but he got really shy and apologized when I pointed it out. Can you believe it? A man! Apologizing! Men never apologize, Namjoon!”

“I resent that statement.”

“Shut up, man,” she teases. They both chuckle at that. “Anyway. I think that you should try to talk to him, if anyone. I can’t tell you everything he said ‘cause that’s his business, but I will say that you’re both really passionate about music, so I think you’d get along really well.” Namjoon wrinkles his nose at her idealism, not quite sure about that one. 

He supposes she’s sort of right, seeing as music is probably the only thing he and Yoongi can agree on. Even saying that is a stretch, because their very different methods of music-making lent cause to many studio debates. It’d probably be more accurate to say that music was the one field in which they respected each other enough to discuss things amicably. If the conversation wasn’t about music, they spent more time throwing passive-aggressive one-liners at one another than talking about anything else.

“I don’t know about that,” is all he decides to say.

“It can’t be that hard,” she says, pouting. “Yoongi is a nice person. And even if there are things you don’t agree on, you can’t deny that he works really hard. So at least try? For me?”

“That walk to the subway really changed you, huh?” he jokes. He’s expecting her to laugh or roll her eyes or smack him or something, but she nods sheepishly instead.

“He gives me good vibes,” she says like it’s an explanation.

“There you go with your vibes again,” he says. It comes out a bit more passive-aggressive than he’d have liked. 

The atmosphere is a bit too fragile for him to start another debate, but it bothered him that she could dislike people like Hunchul because of the bad vibes she got from him, yet expect everyone to drop everything and befriend Yoongi because he gave her good vibes. She says that it’s just her intuition, but he thinks it’s just an excuse. Even without him saying all this, though, she rolls her eyes when she picks up on his implications.

“Yoongi really is a good guy, okay? I can feel it,” she tries convincing him. “I actually saw him smile, Namjoon. And he never smiles! And it was all cute and gummy! I know he comes off as kinda cold, but he just seems soft underneath it all. I just think he’s a person who’s been through a lot.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on him,” he teases. For whatever, the prospect of that makes him more uneasy than it should.

“I’m being serious!” she whines, smacking his arm. “I’m not asking you to stop fighting or arguing with him or whatever if that’s what you want. Just… try to make up after you fight.”

“It’s just weird,” Namjoon admits sheepishly. “It’s not like I want to fight, so I don’t. Especially if it’s over something stupid. I just try to ignore the little things. But then all those little things pile up into one big pile of resentment until I get mad at him for something stupid and he thinks I’m crazy and I’m still mad at him and it’s weird.”

It sounds stupid when he says it out loud, but the way that Yuri purses her lips and nods in understanding as he speaks makes him feel a little less crazy about it all. She’s always been someone that people just feel comfortable around, and Namjoon himself is no exception.

“It’s not weird,” she reassures him. “Fighting isn’t bad, I don’t think. I don’t love it, obviously, but Hitman Bang said the other week that being afraid of fights is only gonna let stuff like that and make the conflict big and worse. All I’m asking is that you at least talk to Yoongi.”

She looks up at him with those doe eyes when she says it, big and hopeful and pleading, and he can’t possibly bring himself to say no.

“Alright.”

Ever since his talk with Yuri last week, Yoongi has been finding instant ramyeon cups in his desk.

At first, he thinks it’s a one-off thing, maybe Yuri’s apology for saying something she thought was insensitive because he made her feel bad and she needs to soothe her conscience. But once he’s run out, they quickly get restocked when he’s not looking, and he has to admit that it warms his heart. He didn’t expect his words to affect her nearly as much as they currently seem to. 

He appreciates that she doesn’t give him the noodles directly or even say anything about it. It lessens the guilt he already feels from receiving free food from his junior. Yuri doesn’t ask for any thanks or even any acknowledgement, not breaching the topic beyond asking if he’s eaten yet.

Lim Yuri, he’s come to find, is not as bad as he thought. A little naive, to be sure, but nothing like the selfish, spoiled little girl he’d conjured up in his head when he first met her. He feels bad for the image he’d once conjured up of her in his head, the little brat surrounded by shiny, foreign production equipment who was no doubt born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

Lim Yuri is kind and generous and even thoughtful when she wants to be. She feels too hard, so sentimental that she cries when a beat she’d been working on for the past six hours fails to save before her computer shuts off. He tells her she can just remake it, but she sniffles and shakes her head, saying that it just won’t be the same as the last one.

“That beat was, like, my baby, Yoongi,” she explained to him that day. “I can’t just replace it, you know?” He doesn’t quite get what she’s getting at, but nods anyways. Over time, he comes to find those weird antics of hers he once found annoying to be kind of… cute? Even if he doesn’t get them. Even now, as she whines cutely, all he can offer is a couple of comforting pats atop her head. He wishes he had more to give.

Maybe that’s the worst part of being the poor kid, he decides. Everyone is impossibly kind here, and he’s probably making an ass of himself by meeting that kindness with a cold distrust. So he brushes off their niceties knowing that he has nothing to give back in return, and thus is seen in a doubly awful light. He tries to comfort himself with the knowledge that at the very least, that prickly demeanor means that nobody is expecting anything of him.

After all, Yoongi doesn’t do well with expectations. He’s not the son his parents expected him to be, who’d get good grades and go to university in pursuit of a business degree or something before slaving away at a desk from nine-to-five everyday for the rest of his life, nor does he want to be. 

But he has to be something.

Hence why he’s in need of a job. Not one of the office jobs that his parents suggested, mind you, but a simple part-time job to hold him over on top of being a trainee so that he doesn’t feel like a useless moocher. Thankfully, he’s already got it in the bag. As expected, they can’t just hire anyone, so they’ve just got one little test for him before they can officially put him on the employee roster.

What he doesn’t expect is to run into Lim Yuri, numerous plastic bags in hand.

“Yoongi!” she shouts when they make eye contact, running up to him excitedly. He’s never seen anybody that excited to see him, even back home in Daegu. It makes his heart feel a little funny.

“Hey,” he says, “I didn’t expect to run into you. What are you doing? Are you alone?” As annoyed as she wants to be, she can’t help but be endeared by the concern she shows her, the same kind that he showed her back when she walked him to the subway.

“Well… yes. But it’s fine. I’m not a kid, you know? Don’t worry about me so much! Really, you just sound like a grandpa when you talk like that,” she teases, “I bet one of these days I’ll come into your studio and you’ll be sprawled over the floor because your back gave out or something.”

“Hey, Hitman Bang says I’m an old soul,” he jokes, a wry grin on his face. She rolls her eyes.

“That’s just a polite way of saying he’s surprised that you’re this young and already depressed,” she snorts, but he can tell that there’s no malice to it. Still, it’s so unexpected of her that he has to do a double-take before bursting out laughing. 

He doesn’t even notice the pedestrian light flash on until she links her pinky with his and walks him across the street. Surprising even himself, he can’t bring himself to really mind that much. In due time, he’s found himself growing adjusted to her touchiness. It’s kind of nice, when he thinks about it. It makes him feel a little less like an interloper. Makes him feel like he belongs where he is.

“It’s fine!” she assures him. He doesn’t look very convinced. “We’re in broad daylight, Yoongi. I just finished grocery shopping.” She lifts her bag-lined arms up for emphasis. “It was my turn this week. Kyunghee and I take turns with groceries since our mom isn’t around.”

“Makes sense,” Yoongi says. Now that she mentions it, they’d only ever mentioned having to avoid their father whenever everyone came over to the Lim household. He’d always just assumed their mom was out or at work or upstairs—never that she wasn’t around at all. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about it, but it seems too heavy of a topic to pry about right now, especially when he already has somewhere to be.

“What about you?” she asks. “Where’d you come from? Or are you headed somewhere?”

“Work,” he explains. “Sort of. It’s just a part-time job. I haven’t technically started yet, but I’m going to. It’s a delivery thing, so I’m just going to test the delivery bike so that they can see that I actually know how to drive and won’t ride around like a crazy person.”

“Like a motorcycle?” she asks enthusiastically. “A real one? You know how to ride a motorcycle?”

“Yeah,” he says as nonchalantly as he can manage, secretly revelling in how much it impresses her. It’s cute of her, he thinks, the way she’s so wowed by the little things. It’s like every conversation with her is an ego boost.

“Can I come watch?” she asks hopefully, eyes glittering with excitement.

And how could he possibly say no to that?

It’s a little silly, how bouncing-off-the-walls excited she is when they get there. Even the old couple who own the restaurant he’s supposed to be delivering for are enamored with her, wrapped up in conversation about meat buns or something. She really is genuinely sweet with them, so much so that they barely take notice when Yoongi mounts the bike they’ve prepared for him to test-ride.

It’s an older Yamaha model, the ‘YD250’ on the scratched up by what he assumes can only be years of wear and tear. He thinks nothing of it as he revs the bike up to life, but before he can take off and begin driving, he’s cut off by Yuri’s voice.

“Hey, hey, hey!” she calls out. “You should be wearing a helmet!”

“It’s in the box,” the old man explains. 

“I’ve ridden without one before,” Yoongi mutters, resisting to roll his eyes at their safety concerns. And Yuri calls him the old person. Even so, he opens the delivery bike box mounted on the back of and reaches in to grab hold of the big black helmet so that he can put it on. “Happy?”

“Very,” Yuri says, sounding far too pleased for his liking. The old woman chuckles at their banter.

Yoongi takes off in a flash after that, quickly riding around the busiest blocks and most bustling streets a couple times, the image of Yuri’s enthusiastic eyes as he rode away on the motorcycle burned into his mind. It’s nice to be admired so deeply. It’s the only reason he’s still on board with the whole idol thing, after all. He doesn’t want to rely on his parents and their money for everything, though, so right now he just needs this job to help support his training. 

He’s officially got the job, they inform him when he gets back. They also tell him that Yuri has been vouching for him in the mere minutes that he was gone. She ducks her head to hide her blush at that, and he finds her shyness in the moment impossibly cute. It only intensifies when she pipes up.

“Can I join you? On the back, I mean?” she asks bashfully. “I’ve, um, never ridden one before. I just think it’d be neat. You can just take me home, if you want. It’s not super far from here, I think.” In any other circumstance, he’d say yes in a heartbeat, but she’s asking him this question in front of his employers. Thankfully, the two nod when he looks to them for permission.

He can’t but feel kind of mortified by the way the old couple coos at him when he takes off his helmet off and places it atop her head, taking extra care to fasten the buckle tight. 

“Cute,” she says. “But what about you?” It’s the little things like these that remind her how thoughtful and softhearted he is, even if he doesn’t really care to show it.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve ridden without one before,” he echoes his earlier sentiment. She doesn’t look convinced, but the old man speaks up before she can get a word in.

“Get your girlfriend home safe, alright?” he says, clapping his hand down onto Yoongi’s shoulder a little too forcefully. Both him and Yuri send each other an embarrassed glance at his assumption, but neither can find it in them to correct the old man.

“Yes, sir,” is all Yoongi says.

The ride back home is a lot less nerve-wracking than he had expected. Yuri’s soft from head to toe, he notes, like a little human pillow. Against his expectations, the feeling of her form pressed against his back throughout their ride in the city feels more comforting than restricting. So much so that he actually feels a little bit disappointed when they get to her house and she has to let go.

He helps her unload her groceries from the delivery bike box, watching as she takes every bag but one. He reaches in to grab it until he sees what’s inside—ramyeon. The exact kind that spawns in his desk every week. At that moment, he realizes that she left that specific bag inside on purpose.

“This is for me,” he says. It's a statement, not a question.

“Mmhm,” she replies. “It’s my favorite brand. It’s got that little egg brick in there, you know the one? These things are mostly carbs, so I think it’s a good source of protein. Good for building muscles.” He frowns, baffled as to how she can be so nonchalant about all this.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” he says. “I have a job now, so I can buy my own food if I’m ever craving anything beyond those cardboard chicken breasts Hitman Bang gives us.” Yuri giggles at that. “I’m serious. I’ve already gotta pay you back for the last couple of weeks. I’m not sure if my salary is gonna be able to keep up.”

“Hey,” she says gently, staring him down a bit more earnestly now. “You don’t have to pay me back for anything, okay? The ones I get for you are only, like, 1200 won per little cup.”

“Isn’t 1200 won kind of a lot?”

“It’s not,” she assures him. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s fine. It’s really fine. It doesn’t hurt me at all. If it did, I wouldn’t keep doing it.” Yoongi pulls a face, not entirely convinced.

“You may not feel bad, but like—I feel bad.”

“Well you shouldn’t.”

“But I do,” he says. Yuri sighs.

“Yoongi—”

“It’s not just the ramyeon, you know?” he says, staring mindlessly at some spot on the ground. Anywhere but her face. It’s a daunting task when he speaks so earnestly. “It’s just—you do so much for everyone all the time. And I’m just—I don’t even talk to anybody.”

“Hey.” Yuri speaks softly, taking one of his hands between both of hers in what he thinks is an attempt to comfort him. Her hands are just as soft as they were that night by the subway, he muses. “You can’t blame all that on yourself, you know? I know the other guys aren’t the best at being friendly and inclusive and all that, but that’s not your fault. It’s more of a time thing.”

“A time thing?” he asks.

“We’ve all known each other for, like, two or three years before you came here,” she explains. “ So I think they’re just trying to get used to you? But they don’t dislike you! If anything, I’m sure they’ll like you soon. I mean, I already like you, so it shouldn’t be too hard for them to follow suit.”

“Okay,” he says, thinking nothing of the flush that spreads up to the tips of his ears.

Namjoon supposes that now is as good a time as any when Yoongi steps into his studio.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. After all, Yuri points out, Yoongi is the one alone in Seoul with nobody to talk to. When she puts it like that, it makes them all sound like assholes. Maybe they are. But it’s fine, because Namjoon is finally going to be nice and converse with him about something not music-related. The bar is on the floor. All he needs to do is open his mouth and say something.

“We need to talk,” Namjoon says. He immediately knows he’s said the wrong thing when Yoongi’s eyes widen like saucers, anxiously backing up until his back hits the door like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. “Oh God, no, not like that. You’re okay. You’re not in trouble.”

“Oh. Alright,” Yoongi says, visibly relaxing.

“I just, um. I wanted to talk,” he repeats. “I feel like I’ve been… mean? But I’m not trying to be. It’s just that I’m supposed to be the leader, but you’re the hyung. “And you also produce a lot of our songs—which I’m really, really grateful for, of course. I just don’t know how to talk about things as a leader without seeming disrespectful. I try to keep my mouth shut about it, but I guess that’s how things like that build up, you know?”

“My mom gave birth to me,” Yoongi says, seemingly out of the blue, and Namjoon laughs. It’s that loud, booming laugh of his that always fills up the whole room.

“What—?!” he laughs incredulously.

“Let me finish,” Yoongi says, hopelessly fighting to the smile off of his face. “My mom gave birth to me. My mom is older to me, obviously, and she’s done a lot for me, too. And of course I’m grateful for that, but that doesn’t mean I won’t fight her on some things. Doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything she says, because I haven’t. Neither have you—if we did, neither of us would be here right now. We’d be like, I don’t know, doing cram school or preparing for university shit or something like that. I think I’d resent her if that’s what I was doing right now just because I wanted to please her. That’s why it’s okay to fight. If we don’t, then all that resentment just grows.” Namjoon smiles fondly at him.

“You really are an old man,” he chuckles, prompting Yoongi to raise a brow at him. “Hitman Bang said the same thing, you know? About fighting being good, since conflicts just get bigger if you don’t fight.”

“Well… he’s right.”

“Wiser words were never spoken,” Namjoon replies.

“So no more not-fighting?” Yoongi asks. It’s so ridiculous, the way he has to phrase it—but Namjoon nods, so he supposes that it gets the point across well enough. “We’ll try to resolve problems instead of avoiding them completely.”

“No more not-fighting,” he agrees. “Resolving things. Not avoiding them.” He holds out a pinky.

It’s a ridiculously silly sight, Yoongi thinks, the way Namjoon’s large hand offers out a pinky for what he thinks must be a pinky promise. Seeing someone as big as Namjoon do something so childish is unfairly endearing. He must’ve picked up from Yuri, he muses. Yoongi can’t help but laugh.

“Did you just giggle?”

“Huh?”

“That was kind of cute, hyung.” Yoongi flushes a dusky pink.

“…shut up.”

Yuri doesn’t come in late on Sundays anymore, Yoongi muses.

She always used to come in late on Sundays, which was a stark contrast to her appearances right after school on weekdays and her early morning entrances on Saturdays. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice before, but he supposes it’s a good thing that he does now. It means that at the very least, they’re taking note of each other’s presence. 

Yoongi does think it’s weird, but for as curious as he is, he is not nosy enough to ask about it. Normally, it wouldn’t even cross his mind to do so, but with the talk he had with Hitman Bang last week about getting along better with everyone, he’s having second thoughts.

Yuri may not be a fellow trainee, but she’s still a member of their team. He only just started talking easily to Namjoon, so Yuri is easily the most comfortable person to talk to. After a rather heated internal battle, he gives in and brings it up to her.

“I’m glad you come in on Sundays, now,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. “What cleared your schedule up?”

“Oh!” she says, pleasantly surprised that Yoongi is taking the first step in making conversation. “My mama worked as a vocal teacher before she divorced my dad and moved away, so my little brother Daniel and I would go over there to help her, especially with translating stuff since her Korean wasn’t very good. I used to go over to help the other lady who works there on Sundays since she’s nice and I liked singing!  But Daniel handles all that now, so I’m free to work here with you guys.”

That’s certainly a can of worms. He’s learned more about her and her home life from this single conversation than he did from the night he was over at her house, but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable by pressing further about the deep shit, so he keeps his digging as shallow as he can.

“You sing?” he says, and she flushes.

“Yes,” she admits. “But like. Not in front of other people. That’s scary.”

“Like stage fright?”

“Sort of,” she says. “It’s different. More like, scary in the sense that you have to share your art that you’ve poured all your heart and soul into for so long. Because then when people reject it or don’t like it, you feel like they don’t like you. On top of that, people also care about visuals and dancing and aegyo, and like… how am I supposed to fulfill all those categories?”

“I get that,” he says. He always knew that music would be a big part of his life, but he never imagined he’d be performing for other people. The thought of scrutiny had always made his stomach churn, but that’s basically all that idol life was. He’s not sure how he’ll handle it. “You don’t think you’ll ever be singing on a stage one day?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. Maybe one day,” she says. “Maybe if I was more… you know.” She grimaces as she makes a vague gesture with her hand.

“Mm-hm.” Really, he doesn’t know, but it seems like a touchy subject. 

He deems it better not to pry.

Big Hit and Source Music are due to debut a girl group soon, Hitman Bang says.

Unlike the boys, they’ve even got a name—GLAM. Yoongi, however, has yet to know the group’s trainees beyond seeing them in passing. After all, Source is the one handling all the management and promotion and all that fancy stuff. 

(Hitman Bang says he’d never be able to manage a girl group because he doesn’t understand women. It takes all of Yoongi’s willpower to stifle a laugh when Yuri says she’s not surprised.)

Meanwhile, all Big Hit has to do is help make their music. 

Yoongi feels a bit of pressure when faced with the prospect of making music for somebody else. Music has always been a very personal process for him. The thought of someone else interpreting his work was both exciting and overwhelming. While the prospect of someone interpreting his work or liking his work enough to perform it piqued his interest, the idea of someone either fucking up something he made or pitching his work to someone who’d only reject it was anxiety-inducing.

To his relief, that is not what he is currently doing.

At the moment, he’s currently mixing a demo for one of GLAM’s future songs, touching up the vocals so that they stand out above the instrumental’s bouncy synths. It has a nice vibe to it, he muses. It’s in English, but he understands enough of it to make out that it’s about getting ‘too close’ to somebody who’s supposed to be a friend. Hitman Bang must’ve purchased it from some overseas songwriter. He’s not sure why. It seems like it’d be an expensive process, and even after buying it they’ll have to translate it back into Korean. What was the point of all that hassle?

At least it sounds nice, Yoongi supposes. It’s a cute, pop-based little R&B track with airy vocals. The high notes are clear and smooth, with a distinct little squeak at the end of the high notes. It’s almost familiar, he muses, but he’s listened to a lot of music in his lifetime, so—wait a minute.

Yuri. That’s Yuri’s voice.

He recognizes those little squeaks anywhere, reminiscent of the whiny tones she makes whenever she’s being stubborn about something. It’s harder to pick up on when she speaks in English, which he supposes he should’ve assumed she’d know how to speak. He recalls Namjoon offhandedly mentioning that she was his English tutor a couple of times, as well as Yuri mentioning translating for her mom. Still, he’s never actually heard it come out of her mouth. It’s kind of jarring.

Against his better judgement, he asks her about it.

“Oh! Um, yeah, that’s me,” she admits, laughing sheepishly. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“It’s good,” he assures her. “Your voice is pretty. The lyrics you wrote are catchy. I bet you could be an idol, if you wanted to.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t think so,” she says just a bit too forcefully, “I’m perfectly content just producing for you guys. Seriously.”

“That’s selfless of you,” he says. She shakes her head.

“It’s actually a little selfish, when I think about it,” she laughs nervously. “To be honest, I think a big part of my support comes from living vicariously through you guys. Saying it out loud makes it sound kind of awful, but you guys are doing things I could only ever dream of doing. I’m just here to make sure you guys are as successful as possible at all the things you’re doing, you know? Even though I’m not actually, like, putting in all the work and being on stage and all that.”

“You could, if you really wanted to,” he says encouragingly. She shakes her head.

“I mean, I don’t think I look very idol-like,” Yoongi muses. 

“You do!” she argues. Poking at his pale cheek to emphasize her next point, she says, “White as sugar, just like old man Bang said. You’ve got that glass skin, you know?” 

“That’s because I don’t go outside,” he says, self-deprecating as ever as he swats her hand away.

“Oppa,” she whines in a way he thinks is unfairly cute of her. “Just accept the compliment, okay?” He rolls his eyes, but relents to her wishes anyway.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You’re very welcome,” she says, sounding far too pleased with herself. “Don’t be like that, okay?”

“Like what?” he says, wrinkling his nose.

“Well… you know. Mean to yourself about how you look,” she explains. “Namjoon is the same, which is sad. And also just not great for an idol, you know? You have to be at least a little confident in your looks, or you’re gonna be miserable every time the stylists dress you. It takes them longer than you’d think. Or so I’ve heard.”

“There’s not much to be proud of,” he deflects, not missing the way that Yuri rolls her eyes like that. 

When she raises her hand, he thinks she’s gonna flick his forehead or prod at his face again or something, but instead she places a finger on the tip of his nose. He furrows his brows together.

“What—”

“Your nose is cute,” she says matter-of-factly. He can’t help the strangled noise of surprise that escapes him at that, face growing hot as he flusters. “And your pale skin makes it easier to see when you blush, too. That’s a strong charm point as well, I think. You’ve got lots of charms.” He turns away, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Still, it’s nice to know that somebody thinks so.

Yoongi presses the end call button on his phone just a little too forcefully.

Another phone call, another argument with his parents. It was instances like these that made him not want to call them at all. He’s always in this limbo of guilt, grateful that they paid for his trainee contract while also being angry at the way they constantly voice their disapproval. He slams his phone down onto his desk in frustration. 

Apparently, it was louder than he thought. His studio door opens up a sliver, just enough for Yuri to peek her head in.

“Hey,” she calls softly. “Everything alright in there?” Yoongi pulls a face that makes it obvious that no, he is not alright. “Can I come in, then?” 

Upon his nod of approval, she files into the room, gently closing the door shut behind her. She walks over and settles into the seat across from his, sliding it over next to his so she can lay her head on his shoulder. Her touch is comforting, he thinks.

“Talk to me,” she says. “What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes, I think I should just… I don’t know. Anything to stop shit like that from happening,” he sighs. “My parents nagging me, I guess. Just go back home. Go to college. Get a nine-to-five. Have a nice family, or something.” And Yuri frowns, because she gets it.

It’s something she’s spent many days and nights comforting Namjoon over when he’s just had another argument with his parents over the same exact thing. She wishes she could relate or understand, or anything to comfort him—but she can’t. 

She’s glad the two can talk to each other about it now, but she can’t help but feel a little jealous that she can’t be a part of the conversation and can help them. She almost scoffs at herself for envying them being able to bond over their unsupportive parents. How fucked up was that?

Heaving a sigh, she hops up and takes a seat on the edge of his desk, careful to mind his production equipment. She swings her feet up into his lap, in that very casually touchy Yuri-esque way of hers. Impulsively, he brings a hand up to gently tap at her shin. She tries not to giggle at the ticklish sensation.

“Yoongi,” she starts, as seriously as she can manage. “Not to be, like. A downer or anything. But when your parents are gone, where would that put you? Stuck in a job you hate for no reason?”

“Six feet under,” he snorts, and she gasps.

“Not funny!” she whines, kicking at his hand. Her assault on his poor palm only gets worse when he bursts out laughing. “So not funny!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but he’s still laughing.

“I really am trying to be supportive,” she huffs, a bit less childishly, now. “But I can’t like. Get it, get it, you know? The only reason I have any idea what to say here is ‘cause I’ve had this talk before. You know, if you two tried talking to each other more about personal stuff, I think you’d see that you and Namjoon are more alike than you might think. I’m not going to spill his business, but. I’ll just say that I think if anyone were to get it, it’d be him. It took some coaxing from my dad, but both my parents are okay with me pursuing music, now. As long as I took the producer route and not the idol route, at least. But still. It’s a good start. I’m lucky. I’ve got it better than a lot of people do, I think.”

“Would you?”

“Hm?”

“Take the idol route,” he clarifies, looking down at her shoes. “If you were given the choice.”

Sometimes, Yoongi feels like he’s never been given a choice. It feels like he’s been given every setback in the world. He’s never had the support or the funds or the hunger for fame that so often accompanied those pursuing music. He can barely remember why or when or what began his relationship with music, but he so vividly remembers feeling it, feeling like music chose him rather than the other way around. He can’t help but wonder what someone who seems to have been given almost all the choice in the world has to say about the only restrictions she’s been given.

Not much, it seems.

“Oh, um, nah. I don’t think so,” she laughs nervously. “I’m just—I’m not really pretty enough?”

“You are pretty,” he says, too quickly and too naturally to be insincere. He doesn’t miss the way that she ducks her head to hide the flush flooding into her cheeks.

This must be the vague ‘you know’ thing she was always talking about, Yoongi muses. He really should’ve picked up on it from the moment she said she didn’t look very idol-like. He’s never been the type to kiss up, so he hopes she knows that he means it. 

“You’re so—stop that,” she whines, embarrassed. She half-heartedly attempts to kick at his hand again, but makes no move to try again when she misses. “You’re too much.”

“I’m serious,” he says.

“I know,” she squeaks, hands flying up to cover her flushed cheeks up in embarrassment. “That’s the embarrassing part. Get some taste or something.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Yuri,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You always tell Namjoon and I not to be insecure about appearances, but you act the same when it comes to yours.”

“That’s different,” she whines, “You and Namjoon are gonna be in front of the cameras. I’m gonna be behind them. I don’t need to muster up any kind of confidence for that. Which is good. Because I don’t have it.”

“Looks don’t matter to me,” he says flatly. “But confidence does. I’m not gonna hold your hand and tell you that you’re pretty all day, even if I think it’s true, ‘cause you’re not gonna believe it no matter how many times I say it.”

“Ouch.”

“Let me finish,” he continues, “Even if it isn’t your looks, you deserve to at least be confident in something. Your music, your grades, your music, whatever. You’re generous and thoughtful. Don’t let society make you miserable just because all they care about is appearances.”

Yuri doesn’t say anything, her face still buried in her hands. More than a little bit concerned at this point, Yoongi flicks her forehead through her bangs. 

“Hey, you good in there?” he asks. She doesn’t reply. Just sniffles. Oh, fuck. “Uh, sorry, I—” Yuri shakes her head, finally lowering her hands.

“Don’t be,” she laughs nervously, still teary-eyed. “That was one of the nicest things a boy ever said to me. You should be, like, a motivational speaker or something.” He snorts.

“I can’t give advice to like. People I don’t care about,” he says, grinning awkwardly, “I’d just tell them to get their shit together and I’d get fired.” Yuri can’t fight the smile off of her cheeks at that.

She’s sure she’d know that he cares through his Yoongi-isms alone, but it’s nice to hear it from the man himself. He wouldn’t be giving this advice if he didn’t care. 

Min Yoongi cares about her, and it makes her heart feel warm.

Lim Yuri has become an unexpected addition to Yoongi’s delivery sprees.

Yuri’s arms, small and gentle, have become a comforting presence as they wrap around his waist. The old couple doesn’t seem to mind the extra person joining him on his trips, content with her politeness and the fact that she isn’t demanding any money despite providing help. They coo about the highs and lows of young love whenever Yuri arrives to join him on his trips, and Yoongi can’t find the energy within himself to correct them.

Things go on like this for a long time, hours, days, weeks, of this halcyon. Her arms keep him warm in the winter and her cold hands keep him refreshed in the late months of spring. The old husband hands them a bag of leftover food for them to eat together, an wistful smile on his face. 

They eat in the midst of impromptu therapy sessions, which usually consist of Yuri comforting Yoongi as he complains about his problems. It’s okay, though, because she likes to give advice and she likes how deep his voice is when he talks and she doesn’t have many problems of her own to complain about, anyway. When she does talk, it’s always lighthearted, talking about a song she wrote or something dumb Kyunghee and Daniel did or how cute Namjoon’s dimples were on that particular day. 

One day, curiosity kills the cat, and Yoongi asks a question that’s been killing him from the start.

“Why do you like Namjoon so much, anyway?” It’s something Yoongi asks out of the blue, so much so that he doesn’t even realize he’s asking it until it slips out. He’s not sure what he’s expecting until she answers, and when he does, he realizes that his expectation was literally anything but what she says next.

“No reason,” she says, and he’s so thrown for a loop by the words that leave her that he practically stumbles over his feet when he hears them.

“Wait, seriously?” he says. “I’ve read your lyrics, you know. You’re good with words.”

“I am?” she says, sounding far too surprised for his liking.

“Yeah. Which is why I thought you’d have a way better answer than that,” he says. “I expected you to talk about…” He pauses as he sifts through his brain for all the things that he personally finds attractive about Namjoon. “…I don’t know, his dimples or his height or his good grades or something.” All things that he lacks, Yoongi muses with insecurity.

“Oh my God. Those are all, like, great and all, but they’re not like… why I like him,” Yuri giggles. “He’s just—I don’t know. There’s a lot of things about him that make me like him, but I can’t, like, come up with an itemized list. It’s not like one day he reached a quota in traits I liked and suddenly I liked him. I just realized I did. I just… felt it. It felt right. He felt right.”

“Oh.” Yoongi feels a pang of jealousy at that, like an itch he can’t scratch. Maybe it’s because a tender part of him can only dream of being loved so dearly.

He silently wonders what it would be like to be loved by a person like Lim Yuri.

Namjoon has been feeling himself growing fonder and fonder of Yoongi in these past months.

Finally learning to talk to him without being all weird has helped with that. Without the formalities, they’re both able to speak a lot more freely. In the time that they’ve done so, the two have been able to talk about and bond over their rocky family situations and their choice to pursue music.

What’s fueled his fondness more than anything, though, is Yoongi’s little habits—the way he runs a hand through his jet black hair as he shyly recommends jazz and art study because they seem like the type of thing you’d like, Namjoonie, the way he always wears those grey jacket and sweats because they’re warm and winter is starting to trickle in, the way he smiles with his gums just like Yuri said he would.

Those two have gotten impossibly close lately, Namjoon notes. Now, he doesn’t think he’s the most perceptive person in the world, but it’s hard to miss the tenderness in their actions. Every time he steals a glance in their direction, they’re exchanging knowing glances or whispering softly to each other or linking pinkies in the way that Yuri loves to do so much.

It’s only natural to conclude that Min Yoongi and Lim Yuri are involved.

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. It has no reason to, right? But it does. He combs through his mind for any possible reason that it should. Maybe it’s because Yoongi, who’s agreed to be more honest with him, hasn’t told him about it. Maybe it’s because Yuri, ever perceptive, has been one of his closest friends for years and yet seems to have no intentions in telling him about it despite how painfully obvious their interactions make things.

The familiar sting of loneliness rises sharply in his chest when he sees them interact, like they’re in their own little world, with seemingly no room for him. He feels like he’s spying on their relationship when he shouldn’t be. He feels like a voyeur. He feels like an interloper.

Maybe this is how Yoongi felt when he first came to Big Hit, he muses. If this is how he feels just watching him and Yuri, he can’t imagine having to watch everyone who’s known each other for years talk and laugh together from the outside. The more he thinks about it, the more he feels selfish and ridiculous for being so bothered by it. After all, who was he to meddle in their affairs?

Maybe it’s high time he finds one of his own.

Yuri’s sheets are soft, Yoongi thinks.

They’re at her house today, Yuri not feeling very keen on having this conversation in the Big Hit building for fear that Namjoon might walk in on them while they’re talking about him. Right now, she’s half-heartedly producing something on her bedroom computer and venting to Yoongi as he lies on her bed.

She rants about how Namjoon has been talking a lot about girls lately, clearly bothered. She especially seems bothered by the fact that Namjoon won’t let her be as touchy with him as she used to be. Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t give a damn about other people’s affairs, but things are different, this time. While he’s not personally bothered by it, he doesn’t like the fact that it bothers her so much, for whatever reason he can’t quite pinpoint. 

Dear Lord, she even goes into detail, describing each and every pretty girl in a way that is far less flowery than he believes Namjoon would speak about a girl.

“And then there’s Jieun, who they all say is a good kisser. What does that even mean? Like, what the hell makes someone a good kisser? You just jam your lips together, right?”

“You’ve never been kissed,” he says, more a statement than a question.

“Yes?”

“Kinda late, don’t you think?” he says. Yuri gasps as she smacks at his arm, clearly mortified.

“No it’s not! Shut up!” she says indignantly. He’s trying to take her seriously, but her squeaky little whines make that hard.

“Sorry—” he tries apologizing through his laughter.

“You don’t sound sorry at all!” she whines. “It’s not funny, okay? It’s fine! I’m still young!”

“You’re sixteen already!”

“I’m only sixteen!” she huffs, crossing her arms and turning away from him. “I-I have time, okay? We can’t all be heartbreakers, Min Yoongi.”

“Heartbreaker?” he repeats. “I haven’t had a girlfriend since middle school.”

“I never said you were one,” she defends herself.

“You implied it.”

“I—whatever!” she huffs. “I’m saving my first kiss for someone special. And it’s gonna be somewhere magical, like under the cherry blossoms at the Goyang Flower Festival or on a picnic blanket under the stars on New Year’s or something.”

Oh my God. He’s trying so hard to stop his laughter. 

“Did you swallow a fucking romance novel?” he laughs. “My first kiss took place in the hallway after gym class, so like. Don’t be surprised if it sucks and you mess up and slobber all over them or something like that.”

When he turns to look at Yuri, she looks incredibly nervous. She’s come to a still in her spinny chair, nervously pulling her hair over her face as she ponders his words with utmost seriousness.

“Do you think that?” she asks, voice small.

“What?” he asks. Wordlessly, she sighs, wheeling her chair backwards over to where he’s lying on her bed. She cranes her neck back onto her bed, coming face-to-face with him.

“Do you think I’ll mess up my first kiss?” she says softly. Not that she needs to speak anything but—she’s so close he can feel her breath against his nose. He pulls away, face aflush.

“You’ll be fine,” he mutters, voice cracking. 

Yuri gives a huff, seemingly dissatisfied with his answer. She hops down from her chair—there’s an inherent cuteness in the fact that her feet don’t touch the ground when she sits on it, Yoongi muses—and up onto the bed, right next to him. He rolls his eyes when she settles onto her knees and urges him to sit up, too. He obliges, in spite of his annoyance.

“What was your first kiss like? Aside from the whole being in the hallway thing?” she whispers, like they’re telling secrets. There’s nobody else in the house but Daniel (who’s probably got his headphones cranked up to a hundred percent), so Yoongi can’t help but find her antics endearing.

“My first kiss was just a kiss. Nothing bad. Nothing mind-blowing,” he says with a shrug.

Even that’s a bit of a stretch. They were both gross and sweaty and their teeth clacked together. But he already feels kinda bad for making her doubt herself so much, and he doesn’t want to aggravate her worries.

“So how did… did you just…” she gestures awkwardly with her friends as she trails off, unable to articulate whatever she wants to say. He gets it, though. He always does.

“You just go for it,” he says, “It’s the kinda thing you just feel your way through. Just don’t think too hard about it. You’re good at doing things without thinking, so it should go well for you.”

“Gee, thanks,” she says, rolling her eyes at the back-handed compliment. “It’s just—I don’t wanna mess up in the future if I ever… you know.”

“Just say kiss,” he teases. “It’s not as sacred as you’re making it out to be. It’s just lips-on-lips. If humans never decided it was a thing to kiss people you liked, it wouldn’t be important at all. It’d just be an exchange of germs.”

“It’s important to me!” she bristles, so aggressively that it throws him for a loop. She takes note of her overreaction, coughing awkwardly before returning to her normal volume. She repeats, “I-It’s important to me. I just want it to be nice. I don’t wanna be disappointed. And I don’t wanna be someone else’s disappointment. That’s why I’m asking you this.”

“What are you asking?” he says, raising a brow.

“Augh!” She buries her face into her hands, miserably failing an attempt to hide her flushed cheeks. Peeking through her fingertips, she gently continues, “Just… hypothetically… purely for practice reasons… it wouldn’t count as my first kiss if you could, um. Help me. Try. Practice. I don’t know.”

The room goes impossibly quiet. She can’t say a word after that, the pair just staring at each other in awkward silence, him impossibly floored at the suggestion. Their faces go blank as Yuri processes what the hell she just did and Yoongi processes what the hell just happened.

When it all finally clicks, Min Yoongi has the audacity to fucking smirk, gums showing and all.

“Practice,” he repeats, no lilt to it, no bite. His attempts to remain straight-faced are to no avail, because her pouting up at him is all it takes for him to burst out laughing.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” she yells, pushing him back down onto the bed. “Just forget it! Forget I said anything!” She hooks a leg over his waist, pinning him down before grabbing a pillow and smacking him as hard as she can with it. The pain does little to quell his laughter.

“Get off!” he laughs in-between smacks. “You’re too much!”

“Are you calling me heavy?!” she asks, more fake-offended than anything.

“What—no! What the fuck made you think that?!” he tries to sound indignant, but he’s still laughing, and before he knows it, she’s laughing too. When the laughter subsides and the room goes quiet, they both realize what kind of situation they’re in. Yuri’s still got him pinned down, having just talked about first kisses. Kisses in general. Having just proposed that they kiss. The air goes tense.

“So,” Yoongi says, cutting through the silence.

“So.”

“I didn’t. Uh. I didn’t say no.” He has the decency to look embarrassed, now, cheeks flushed and eyes blown wide. “Unless you don’t want to.”

The two stare at each other for a moment after that, like they’re waiting for the other to back down. A Clint Eastwood-style duel of the eyes, so to speak.

“I won’t start something I can’t finish,” she says decidedly.

She leans in as promised,

presses her nose against his—

“I’m sorry!”

—and promptly places both hands over his mouth.

The motion isn’t harsh enough to hurt too bad—only a light sting—but it is very sudden. Yoongi blinks up at her a couple of times in surprise just to reassure himself that whatever that was actually just happened.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “For um—yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this? Because, um, you know. If someone asks me when my first kiss was, I’ll have to say, ‘Oh, it was on my bed at like, 11PM when I was in high school. A-And that already makes me sound terrible! And then when they ask with who, I’ll have to say, ‘Oh, just with my friend that I work with so I could practice kissing for the future since I was in love with our friend!’ And that’ll be my stupid goddamn answer! And that’s… that’s, um… that’s kind of not very romantic…”

Her voice tapers off towards the end, quieting in what Yoongi thinks is embarrassment as she takes his hands off of his mouth. It really does sound kind of ridiculous when she says it out loud. Maybe Yoongi was onto something when he laughed at her for sounding like she ‘swallowed a romance novel.’ To her relief, his next response is anything but patronizing.

“Hey,” he says, “Relax. Don’t apologize for changing your mind, that’s just—that’s just weird. Don’t force yourself to do shit you don’t want to. That’s weird.”

She’s so close. They’re still nose-to-nose, breath tickling each other’s lips every time the other speaks. He awkwardly pats the back of her thigh a couple of times, which she reads as a signal to roll off of him. She obliges. Even though she knows he doesn’t mean much by that little touch, the intimacy of it still makes her blush. Thankfully, he can’t see it with the both of them laying back down onto the bed and staring awkwardly at the ceiling above them. Yoongi pretends to find interest in the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on her bedroom ceiling.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay,” he repeats.

“Sorry,” she says again.

“It’s fine,” he reassures her, because as mortifying as the situation is for them both, it really is fine.

She blindly reaches her hand out to find his, feeling around until their fingers meet. When he fondly links his pinky in hers, the way she always does with him, she decides that a kiss isn’t the kind of thing she should be rushing into, anyways.

Yoongi just assumes it isn’t weird.

After all, Yuri settles against him so naturally, her face buried into his neck and her studio chair sidled next to his as he sits at his desk and works on mixing what he hopes will end up being a song on their first album, whenever that comes out. Were it not for the way that her breath hit the sensitive skin of his neck, he would barely even register that she was there.

Well. Maybe not barely.

She’s so warm, the way she presses against him. She’s always warm, except in her hands, but it’s fine because his hands are always colder. Her cold fingers thread through his hair, and it reminds him of how accustomed he’s become to her touchiness. It’s just a habit of hers, he’s since learned. She has a lot of little habits he once found weird, but now only sees those habits as things that make her Yuri. 

Yuri who hides behind her hair when she’s shy or nervous. Yuri who only wears half her jacket and leaves the other half hanging off for no reason. Yuri who wordlessly leaves ramen cups on his desk. Yuri who has to link her pinky with someone else’s when she’s nervous. Yuri who awkwardly bends her hands to link both of hers together when she doesn’t want to be a bother.

But it’s come to the point where she’s never a bother anymore. If she were, he wouldn’t have situated himself in her life as the outlier, the one person who coaxes her to talk about all of her problems because she’s the one resolving everyone else’s. Yuri taking always feels like giving, because he takes in her little habits and private thoughts that she shares with him and nobody else. It makes him feel more important than it makes him feel annoyed.

She has a special bond with everyone at Big Hit, and even with the Source Music and JYP trainees they practice with—she wouldn’t be going out of her way to force them all to resolve their conflicts, otherwise, even if they see her as nosy and meddling because of it.

In everyone being special, he supposes, he has gone full circle in no longer being special. Maybe he is, but he’s not as important to her as say, Kyunghee, her own damn brother, or Namjoon, who she stares at like he holds all the world’s answers. With that, Yoongi takes his place in her heart at a solid bronze (at the very most), which stings a little more than he’d like to admit. 

He hasn’t had much opportunity to grow as close to anyone at Big Hit—hell, anyone in Seoul—yet. Maybe that’s why he’s grown so attached to her like this. As sad as it is, she is quite literally the one person in the whole city that he’s close to. Listening to all her problems like this makes him feel like he’s just as important to her, so he can feel a little bit less pathetic about holding her so close to his heart. Even if the problems that she tells him reveal anything but.

“I’m so stupid,” she whines against his neck. Her warm breath gives him goosebumps.

“Jeez, you’re not. How many times do we have to go over this?” He’s been comforting her over this for the past half-hour now.

Namjoon has a girlfriend now. A tall girl from his advanced algebra class with great math skills and pale skin and sharp eyes—everything that Yuri does not have. He knows she’s insecure about it from the way she wrinkles her nose when she sees her reflection in the mirrors of the practice rooms. It makes him want to throttle Namjoon, despite him probably not having a clue.

“Sorry,” she says, her voice small, “For dumping all this on you, you know? I don’t wanna be that friend who only ever talks to you when I have problems. I kinda feel like I’m using you.”

“Hey, hey. It’s fine. Relax,” he says, feeling her nod softly into his neck as he continues, “It doesn’t bother me.” In fact, he prefers it, is what he doesn’t tell her. Humiliating as it is, he revels in feeling like he’s giving something, when he always feels like he’s taking from her. Like everyone is taking from her.

He knows what it’s like to be a producer, always behind the scenes of it all. She says she’s perfectly content with it, but he once said the same thing back in Daegu. But even when he chose to do things and make things for other people like this, there was always that underlying feeling of feeling like something has been taken from you. Sometimes it was just wanting the same amount of recognition as the people singing the songs you made.

Being young in society meant a desire for acceptance, and what bigger acceptance was there than fame? He recognizes the stars in her eyes whenever they practice with the other trainees in JYP’s big, shiny entertainment building because his own eyes held them once, too.

He’s still a trainee, so maybe they still do.

But for now, he’s letting himself dream small, living in the studio whenever he doesn’t have to practice those stupid dances Hitman Bang has them do. For now, music comes first, especially with his current job as one of the company’s main producers.

Producing is a lot harder with one hand, he muses, noting that she has at some point monopolized his left one when he wasn’t paying attention. He interlocks their fingers in spite of it all. With his ability to perform keyboard shortcuts impaired, he delegates the task of manually clicking things to his free hand. It’s annoying, but the feeling of her hand fit so snugly in his makes the inconvenience feel worth it. They sit like that for a while, quiet as one of her hands threads through his hair and the other softly strokes at his hand with her thumb.

“I like your hands,” she says. “They’re nice to hold.” Yoongi swallows. She’s so close to him that he’s scared she’ll hear how fast his heart is beating. To his relief, she says nothing of it.

“They’re just hands,” he says as nonchalantly as he can manage. “Cold hands.”

“Usually when you hold someone’s hand they get all hot and sweaty and clammy and gross, which is why I do the pinky-linking thing,” she muses, “Yours don’t do that, so they’re nice to hold. And they’re honestly not even that cold.”

“They are,” he argues.

“I don’t think your hands are ever that cold,” she says, her voice a teasing lilt. “I think you just keep saying that so you have an excuse to have your hands held. I bet you secretly love skinship.” He rolls his eyes, tightening an arm around her tiny frame.

“Watch it. Your life is in my hands,” he says, as flatly as he can manage for maximum ominosity.

With a squeak, she flies off of him like he’s on fire. He can’t help but smile, wide and gummy, at her Yuri-esque antics. Even when she turns away, shaking her head fondly, he can feel his heart swell in his chest as he looks at her. It reminds him why she’s the first one at Big Hit he was able to really talk to. Everything feels easy and comfortable with her, the way he felt back in Daegu.

His reverie is interrupted by Namjoon’s voice booming from the studio next to his.

“Yuri!” he calls. “Can you look at this for me?”

Hearing this, she does a little happy dance with her feet. It’s a habit he usually finds endearing, but right now it just makes his stomach twist. She waves him off, dropping everything—she even forgets her water bottle on his desk—to run off and attend to whatever Namjoon needs her for.

“I’ll be back,” she says in a sing-song voice as she’s out the door. 

He knows she will. She always comes back to him whenever Namjoon isn’t available.

Yoongi runs a frustrated hand through his hair, not sure why it bothers him so much. The fact that he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much bothers him more than anything else.

Yuri is awake at the Big Hit dorms at two in the morning.

This is nothing out of the ordinary, though. Whenever their dad was out of the country on a business trip, she always took the opportunity to stay out past curfew as a chance to spend her nights at the Big Hit studio while Kyunghee played video games with Donghyuk in the dorms. She always had to hide in the studio until early dawn so as to not get caught by Hitman Bang, who made it clear that he detested the idea of someone so young being out late just to work for him.

Today is different, though. Today, she’s in the dorms, taking a well-deserved break from work as she lays on her stomach next to Yoongi and watches a movie with him. She brought the DVD over from her house, thinking nothing of the way her father’s old American movies lined the TV stand until the day Yoongi bashfully mentioned wanting to watch it.

So here they are, watching a Korean-subbed version of Scarface on the tiny screen of his laptop. Yuri can’t enjoy the movie very much, finding it a bit too bleak and violent for her liking. And it just never gets better. It’s just hit after hit, one bad thing happening after another. She’s sure that if she squinted hard enough, she would be able to appreciate the cinematography and whatever deeper meaning the film holds, but that sounds like too much brainpower to be using at two in the morning.

Yoongi seems to find it interesting, though. He’s enraptured by every word that leaves the main character’s mouth, so much so that Yuri would be surprised if he forgot she was there. It really seems like he’s in his own little world. Instead, she finds her entertainment in his little gasps of delight, the innocent widening of his eyes, the way his grins of anticipation look as they’re illuminated by the dim light of his laptop screen.

It’s unfair, she thinks, how pretty Yoongi is. Perfect skin and catlike eyes and gummy smiles and he’s not even trying—hell, he doesn’t even have a skincare routine! God really does pick favorites. Yuri absentmindedly brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes, one he’s probably too entranced by the movie to notice. She hums softly at the way he leans into her touch without thinking.

She wonders if anyone is ever going to look at her this way.

There’s no time for her musings to continue when she hears what sounds like someone throwing their guts up in the bathroom. It stops for a moment before continuing, and Jesus, that sounds pretty brutal. She nudges Yoongi with her arm.

“Sounds like someone’s dying in there,” she says. He furrows his brows together in concern.

“Huh?”

“Someone’s not having a good time in the bathroom,” she says. “Did Namjoon undercook the chicken breasts again or what?” As if on cue, the poor guy is retching again, and Yoongi shakes his head.

“Jihoon,” he says, pausing the movie before he stands up and dusts himself off. “He hasn’t been feeling well for a while, now.” Yuri gets up and follows Yoongi when he makes his way towards said bathroom, cringing at the distinct sound of dry heaving as they draw closer. Yoongi knocks on the door before entering, his frown deep-set when he sees Jihoon hunched over the toilet.

“Hey,” Yuri says softly, stepping forward and placing a comforting hand on the small of his back. “Are you okay, buddy?” Yuri and Jihoon aren’t exactly the closest—of all the Big Hit trainees, Namjoon and Yoongi nabbed that spot—but he’s still nice to talk to, always offering to walk her home when it got too late like a good oppa. Seeing him like this breaks her heart.

“‘M fine,” he rasps, despite the pain in his voice telling them all that he is anything but. “Probably just food poisoning. No big deal.”

“Food poisoning for three days?” Yoongi says, obviously in disbelief. “It could be a stomach bug. Or God forbid, appendicitis. You really need to get yourself checked out.”

“It’s fine, hyung. I—” he begins, but the need to heave again cuts him off. Yuri rubs comforting circles into his back some more, unsure of what else to do. She sends a questioning glance Yoongi’s way, who looks just as concerned as she does.

“We’re taking you to the hospital,” he says. Jihoon groans, but doesn’t have the energy to resist.

The drive to the hospital is tense, Yuri filing in the back before Jihoon so he can lay his head against her shoulder and she can make sure he doesn’t throw up anymore. Meanwhile, Yoongi pushing is the edge of the speed limit, eyes darting back and forth between the road and the rear view mirror to make sure that they’re holding up okay in the back. Yuri sends him a reluctant thumbs up.

Yoongi insists that they take Jihoon to the emergency room, where they take Jihoon to the back. As soon as he’s out of eyeshot, Yuri watches with wide eyes as Yoongi takes out his wallet and puts down a hefty payment for the walk-in fee.

“I can pay for it,” she says, shaking her head as she fishes for her wallet in her own jacket pocket. Yoongi smiles, a bittersweet thing, at the unspoken words—she knows how much he’s struggled with money in the past. Even so, he shakes his head, reaching out to tenderly fit his hand into hers.

“There are worse things to spend my money on,” he says. “You can’t really put a price on anyone.”

Something in the way that she sees Yoongi snaps, then, but she has no clue as to what it is. She’s not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or the lateness of the night that makes her think this, but something about him reminds her of the moon, at that moment.

They stay like that the rest of the night, side-by-side in the seats of the hospital waiting room. Yoongi’s lashes flutter dreamily at the way a sleep-deprived Yuri noses against him, softly muttering sweet things against the sensitive skin of his neck and meaning every word.

“Your heart is warm, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi can’t help but notice the way that Yuri’s wrap around him a little bit tighter during their deliveries, these days. More than that, he can’t help but notice how much he likes it.

He’s slowly accepting the fact that this might be a thing that he will have to address in both himself and with the rest of the Big Hit team later. Yuri being her normal touchy self was one thing, but him finding himself enjoying her touch rather than just allowing it was… new. It’s scary and exciting all at once, but mostly the former. For now, while it isn’t a problem, he chooses to ignore it.

He still puts the helmet on her head himself, pulling the buckles tight and making sure it’s fully secure before anything else. He takes extra care with it these days, tender in the way he always does it for her like it’s the first time. He feels like a little kid all over again, the way he cares like this.

It’s easy for him to psyche himself out of things, convincing himself that she’s just being all touchy because that’s how she is, but then she does little things that make him think it isn’t all in his head. Just last month, she gifted him with a black Yamaha helmet, covered with stickers of Kumamon and logos of brands he likes and Scarface, even though he remembers her having a pointed disinterest in the film while they watched it on his bedroom floor.

He never anticipated that he’d actually need it one day.

He doesn’t know how it happens, who went too fast or too slow or turned when they weren’t supposed to. All he remembers is tightening his arms around Yuri as they tumbled off the bike and onto the ground, hoping that she’d be okay. 

She always kicked in his protective instinct, being so small and so delicate. The thought of her getting hurt because she wanted to help him out makes him feel impossibly guilty.

Yoongi’s fading in and out of consciousness, vaguely registering Yuri’s voice sobbing into her phone on what seems to be a 1339 call.

“He’s—he’s unconscious,” he hears her sniffle, “Oh my God, he—um, no, no, he has a helmet on. His head is under the car. His body’s sticking out from under it. I just—I don’t wanna move him, ‘cause, oh my God, what if I hurt him? Oh God, what do I do? I don’t know what to—no, ma’am, the street is—um...”

When he wakes up, he’s lying in a hospital bed, groggy and miserable and aching to the joints. He’s in the emergency room, he realizes, the same one he drove Jihoon to only weeks ago. His heart sinks when the doctor informs him that he’s got an incredibly bad shoulder injury—no more boxing, no more basketball, he tells him. It was nearly dislocated, he says, so don’t move too much. Don’t put too much pressure on it. Just relax for a month or so.

This sends him into a full-blown panic. He doesn’t have a month. He’s never been much of a dancer—of everyone, she should probably be practicing the most. This sets him back far behind the others. How is he gonna catch up? How is he gonna make up for that?

As soon as the doctor leaves, the weight of the whole world hits him all at once. He can even feel himself hyperventilating, but is halted by the shock of a gentle hand reaching out to grasp his. When he turns, he sees Yuri sitting on the hospital chair next to him. Lord, he was so out of it he didn’t even realize she was there. She’s got bandages on her legs, but other than that, no major injuries. He breathes a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hey,” he says, slowly blinking up at her.

“Why did you do that?” she says, voice cracking.

“Huh?”

“You, um, kind of,” she begins, “…broke my fall? You held me. I don’t know. I crushed your shoulder. That’s why it’s all fucked up. Why would you do that?”

“I—I don’t know,” he admits. “I wasn’t thinking. I just felt like it was the thing to do at that moment.” She whines pitifully at his answer, squeezing his hand as tight as she can.

“I just feel like I owe you one,” she says. “Something. Anything. I don’t know.”

The tender part of him tells him to assure her that she has no need to do any such thing. After all, nothing was more important than other people—especially Lim Yuri—but the scared part of him takes over.

“Make me a promise,” he says softly. She leans in to hear him better, nodding as she does so.

“Anything,” she says.

“Promise me you won’t tell the others about this injury. Please.” Yuri furrows her brows and widens her eyes upon hearing this, obviously not expecting that answer. She practically rips her hand from his at that, pulling back from him as if appalled.

“What?!” she says. “Yoongi, no! They have to know about this!”

“They’ll worry. They’ll bench me. They’ll pull me out,” he says. “I promise you, it’s better if they don’t know.”

“What, so they can make you dance and exercise and all that shit with your injured shoulder? If it was sprained, that’d be one thing, but this is a serious problem! You’re only gonna hurt yourself further by not telling them.”

“I don’t care. It’s fine.” Yuri shakes her head.

“I just don’t get it,” she says, sniffling. “How you can care so little about yourself when I—when everyone—cares about you so much.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her. “It’ll heal. Everything will, alright? I just need you not to tell anyone about it.”

“Of course,” she says, as flatly as she can manage. “I owe you one, after all.” Yoongi knows her well enough to sense the bite in her tone. He rolls his eyes.

“C’mon,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be like that, then,” she says, pressing her back to the opposite wall of his little hospital room. “It’s just—it’s just so stupid, Yoongi.” She slides down against the wall and onto the floor, looking impossibly small and hopeless in a way that only makes him feel guiltier. “You don’t have to pay anyone back for any of the nice things we do. You think we do all that just to kiss ass, or what?”

“What—no! Of course not.”

“Then why am I keeping this a secret, huh? Tell me that,” she says. 

Yoongi pauses for a moment, deep in thought. Every single thought falls upon him, all at once. He thinks of the evaluations next weekend and he thinks about his family back home. He thinks about the money they spent on his trainee contract and he thinks about the amount they’ll have to pay off, regardless of whether or not he debuts. His heart beats wildly in his chest. His head pounds away.  His lips press together into a thin line.

“There’s so much at stake,” is all he can offer as an explanation. What else can he say?

“All the more reason to trust us, then, isn’t it?” she says desperately. “Come on. No way anyone would let the company drop you. I’d fight for you, you know that! We’d fight for you. No one else can rap and produce like you. Don’t you remember what Namjoon said? You can debut before him, or he can debut before you, but it’s important that everyone supports each other, always. He’d be here for you, if he knew. He wants to be there for you. We all want to be there for you. You’re so loved. You just have to trust us. You just have to let us in.”

“Sorry I don’t remember every little thing Namjoon says,” he scoffs. “I’m not you.”

“Are you really talking about that right now?!” she bristles. “This is serious, Yoongi!”

“I’m being serious,” he says firmly. “You’re the one bringing up Namjoon while I’m lying in a hospital bed. He’s the leader. He’s the one I’m worried most about. The whole group is built around him. I don’t know if I can trust him not to tell any of the staff about this. If he does—, if anyone does—they have a reason to drop me as a trainee. I can’t let that happen, Yuri.”

He doesn’t know why he’s saying these things. He’s talking out of his ass right now. After all, he trusts Namjoon. He likes Namjoon. But the pain in his shoulder and the claustrophobia of the tight little hospital room makes him feel anxious, restless, paranoid. He wants to get up and move and run or do something. But he can’t, so all he can do is project every negative feeling bogging down on him onto other people.

“If you can’t trust Namjoon,” she says softly. “Can’t you at least trust me?”

A beat of silence is her only answer, Yoongi’s lips pressed together into a thin line as he looks away.

“I can’t believe you,” she says, voice cracking. When he hears her begin to sniffle and sob, he has to force himself not to look back at her, guilt and shame bubbling up in his stomach.

He doesn’t even get to see her as she storms out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Yoongi feels incredibly alone.

He really shouldn’t, though—after all, his family comes all the way down from Daegu just to visit him while he’s in the hospital. They bring him all sorts of different foods, agreeing with his complaints that hospital food really, really sucks. After repeated assurances that he’ll heal just fine, they ask him about trainee life, about his food, about his friends. On the third day, they ask why nobody else has visited him. He lies and says that they’re all too busy training, when in reality they don’t even know that he’s here. 

The insecure, self-loathing part of himself wonders if they’re even worried.

Rationally, he knows they are, because he misses them, too. They’ve been in such close proximity that it’d be impossible for them not to grow as close as they have in these past months. He chuckles softly whenever he thinks about the way they were so rarely separated, bonding and laughing over situations where Hoseok was using the shower while Donghyuk used the toilet and Namjoon brushed his teeth, all at the same time.

It only makes Yoongi feel worse about the last conversation he had with Yuri, making an ass out of himself over Namjoon of all people. Namjoon who he’s lived with the longest. Namjoon who he gives his shirts to when they come in two sizes too big. Namjoon who he holds so dearly. 

He wishes he didn’t have to be apart from everyone for so long to realize what an ass he was being.

It hits him the worst on the sixth day his family visits him and they bring him a cup of a very familiar brand of ₩1200 ramyeon. He saves the little egg brick for last. It tastes bitter in his mouth. 

As he reluctantly finishes his water, listening to his brother, Geumjae, and his parents chatter about their dog and their work and the weather in Daegu. Usually, catching up with them felt like a much-needed break, but right now he just feels restless. 

He’s been lying in this hospital bed for too long. Listening to nothing but their idle chat for too long. He’s been drifting in and out of sleep so much that he probably wouldn’t even know how many days he’d been in the hospital if his phone didn’t tell him. The repetition of it all ends one day when the nurse informs him that somebody’s coming up to visit, even though his family is already there in the room with him.

After a set of gentle knocks, Lim Yuri appears from behind the hospital door like an angel.

She introduces herself to his family a bit too formally, bowing more than she needs to, like she’s trying to impress them. It’s cute of her. What’s even cuter is the way she blushes and flusters in surprise when they ask if she’s a Big Hit trainee and she waves her arms around as she explains that she’s a producer. She looks nothing like an idol, she says. Geumjae jokes that Yoongi doesn’t look anything like one either. He glares at his brother from the hospital bed.

Yuri looks shy as she tells them something too softly for him to hear, but they nod in understanding and send Yoongi a knowing look as they file out of the door with promises to visit tomorrow. His cheeks flush in embarrassment as he realizes he’s going to have a lot to clarify for them then.

His flush deepens when she sets the plastic bag in her hands on his side table, clambering up the bedside to take a seat beside him. He moves to make space for her, revelling in the way the warm skin of her thigh presses against his arm. 

“Did you eat?” she says softly. “I brought you food.”

“Yeah, I ate,” he says. “Thanks, though.”

A beat of silence. She reaches down to grasp his hand, which fits so perfectly into hers. When he squeezes it, she squeezes back. Everything feels like it’s falling back into place where it belongs.

“I didn’t tell anyone, like you said. I told them all that you went back to see your family in Daegu. Said it was a family emergency that you didn’t really wanna talk about,” she says softly. “Told Hitman Bang, too. I think you should be okay if you want to stay here for the next week or so.” He shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I’ll be discharged soon,” he assures her. “Next two days, maybe. It won’t be completely healed, but I’ll just tell them that I fell down the stairs back home or something. I don’t know. Gonna try to play it off as nothing major.” 

She hums in reply, squeezing his hand again. He can tell she still disapproves of his secrets, but is willing to keep them if that’s what makes him comfortable. She slides down so she’s laying next to him, legs slotted nicely next to his. He feels a wave of comfort wash over him as she gets touchy with him, like nothing has changed.

Seeing as Yoongi has never been the touchy-feely type, one would think that this would annoy him. To his own surprise, it doesn’t. If anything, he finds himself reveling in her affections. It’s weird even to him, the way he likes her touch so much.

Wordlessly, she starts playing with his hair. She’s always liked his hair, she’s said before, all sleek and smooth—she doesn’t like her own hair and the way they curl at the ends. And he’d frown every time she talked about herself like that because he thinks she’s one of the cutest people he knows.

Not that he could ever tell her that without shrivelling up and dying of embarrassment.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by her wandering fingers, which have moved on from playing with his hair to prod at his ears. The sensitivity makes him cringe, but it isn’t an entirely unpleasant thing. He gasps sharply when her fingernails nip at the shell of his ear in a way that feels like the sensitive skin is being bitten. Mortifying as it is to admit, the goosebumps that rise on his skin stem from a sensation more pleasurable than it is uncomfortable. It feels good. Suddenly, the touches that he once found curious and innocent—childish, even—make his face go hot.

“You have something you’re not saying,” she chides. “You can tell me, you know, if it’ll make you feel better.” He turns in closer to her, close enough that her breath tickles him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “For saying stupid shit that I didn’t mean. I was jealous and stupid and angry.”

“Apology accepted,” she says immediately, trailing her finger back down from his ear to prod at his bready cheeks. “I’d forgive you even if you didn’t apologize, you know. I missed you too much.”

“I missed you, too.” 

She freezes, then. They both do. Yoongi doesn’t even realize what he says until it’s slipped out—it’s probably the most intimate thing he’s said out loud. The closest thing he’s ever said to I love you.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks suddenly. “I just—I know it’s not super romantic to ask, but I don’t just wanna do it without your permission, so—” Yoongi’s face burns a dark crimson as he cuts her off.

“Yeah,” he chokes out. “Go ahead. Please.” He can’t trust his voice to say much else. His hands are shaking.

When she presses her lips against his, everything feels different. 

It’s like every shitty romance movie he’s ever watched has come to life in his bones. Every cheesy metaphor—the sparks flying, the angels singing, the flowers blooming. It’s the way he finally understands why wars have been waged and empires have fallen for a single heart. It’s the way Yuri smells like cherry blossoms and whatever else is in her girly lotions. It’s the way he’s never felt like this before.

It’s different from his first kiss. It feels exactly like Yuri said it should feel. Maybe because it’s her. 

And Min Yoongi finally understands why Lim Yuri put so much importance into a single kiss.

Yoongi doesn’t know how long he’s been avoiding her.

It’s not like he immediately iced her out after the kiss. It was a gradual thing, each interaction slowly becoming more and more unbearable. The first time he can recall feeling things start to fall apart was when he made some rude joke that he can’t even remember now. All he can remember is the way she laughed afterwards, so naturally and so easily that he couldn’t help but to think about how everything with her was just easy. Easy to tease, easy to joke with, easy to share secrets with.

That’s how things should be, right?

And then it spirals. Makes him think about his girlfriend from middle school, a smart girl with pretty hair that sat in front of him in class, who began going out with him when he shyly asked her out via letter. He could talk to her normally before, could ask her for pencils and for homework help, but once they began dating he couldn’t even do that much.

It’s weird, the way he acted so differently once romantic expectations were set up. There’d always been this tense aura of awkwardness around them, and he could vaguely tell that it annoyed her, but he was too chicken to do anything about it. He never thought it could happen with Yuri, who he always felt so comfortable, but here he was now.

He feels pathetic, agonizing over this when she’s probably thinking about Namjoon. Even if she does like him back, there’s a clawning fear in his gut that tells him that he’s never going to compare. He wonders how long she’d do that, seesaw herself over to him whenever Namjoon was unavailable. Moreover, he wonders how long he’d let her.

Everytime her little hands found themselves laced in his, the rate at which his thoughts dissipated and his heart melted became laughable. If she asked, he’d probably let her do whatever she wanted with him forever.

The tiny, selfish little devil on his shoulder whispers to Yoongi that he would possibly-maybe-kind-of be more compatible with her than Namjoon. Even without thinking too hard about it, he knows it’s a terrible thought just from the way it makes his stomach churn with guilt.

Namjoon and Yuri have known each other for several years longer than he’s known either of them. He’s nothing more than an interloper in this relationship, and it’s conceited of him to even think he has any kind of chance when he probably isn’t even in the running. The possibility of being in the running scares him more than it excites him, at this point.

So he ices her out.

With how frigid he’s gotten, it should come as no surprise that she wants to hang out more with the trainees at JYP and Source. These days, she’s been over in their dorms more often than she’s been in theirs. He only ever sees her in the studio. Even then, he only speaks to her indifferently, replying to her when it has to do with music and brushing off her attempts at small talk. It reminds him of his interactions with Namjoon back when they first met, tense and awkward and professional.

And speak of the devil.

“Hey,” he hears Namjoon say, his voice deep and distant at his studio door. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” he says thoughtlessly, not even bothering to look up from the song he’s producing on his computer. That changes when Namjoon seats himself on the seat next to his and he can practically feel the air go tense, forcing him to turn and give Namjoon his full attention. The way that his leader, who was a year younger than he was, could command so much authority with his presence alone was both admirable and terrifying.

“You’ve been avoiding Yuri,” Namjoon says. He immediately knows there’s no beating around the bush with this one. Regardless, he pushes his luck.

“I haven’t,” he lies through his teeth. Yoongi has never liked lying about matters of the heart. If it were anybody but Namjoon, he wouldn’t have, but he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Namjoon sighs, obviously in disbelief of the lie. Yoongi doesn’t blame him.

“Look,” he says. “I’m not asking you to tell me what’s wrong, or what happened between you two or whatever. If it was between two members of this group, then I would have to. It’s my job as leader to be responsible for you guys. But whatever is going on between you and Yuri? That’s your business. It’s not my job to keep up with our producers, no matter how much I might want to.”

“But you do want to,” Yoongi clarifies.

“Of course,” he says. “I mean, she’s not just a producer to me. She’s my friend. And so are you. So I’m asking you this as a friend, and not a leader.” Yoongi raises a brow.

“What are you asking?” he says.

“I don’t know. Just don’t be mad at each other anymore. Please.” Namjoon sounds impossibly desperate, hopeless in a way that feels incredibly out of character for him. “I don’t like seeing you guys mad at each other. Remember what Hitman Bang said? It’s okay if you wanna fight or yell or whatever. Just sort it out. I don’t know what she did, or what happened between you, but everyone seems pretty miserable without her around, including you. So please make up soon. Please don’t be mad at her anymore.”

“I’m not mad at her,” he says, and it’s the truth. If anything, he’s mad at himself—but not at her. Never at her. “It’s just… weird. I don’t know. But I’m not mad at her.”

“You think she knows that?” he says, and Yoongi’s heart immediately sinks.

“Probably not,” he admits, suddenly feeling a large wave of guilt wash over him. Now that he thinks about it, she’s probably been blaming herself this whole time. Yoongi’s face burns hot with shame.

“Then you should let her know.”

“Hey, can we talk?”

Yuri practically jumps in her seat, eyes widening like saucers as she whips around upon hearing the voice of Yoongi of all people at the studio door. She hesitates for a moment, but it’s not long before she gets up to let him in. Over the months, he’d gotten harder and harder for her to refuse.

“Okay,” she says as she unlocks the door, letting him into the studio. They’re face to face now, so much so that his incredible closeness reminds her just how much he towers over her. He always said that he was short, but he’s pretty tall to her. It only makes her all the more nervous.

She hasn’t had the opportunity to talk to Yoongi alone like this about something non-music related in months. She can’t beat around the bush with this one—she doesn’t know the next chance she’s going to get to say what she wants, so she has no choice but to say it outright.

“Let’s not fight anymore,” she says, gently dropping her head against his chest. It comes out soft and sad and a thousand times more pathetic-sounding than she’d originally intended. “I won’t kiss you anymore. We can pretend it never happened. Just talk to me again. I miss you.” The way her voice cracks breaks his heart into little pieces.

“We’re not—we’re not fighting, Yuri,” he assures her, stern and gentle all at once. Hesitantly, he brings an arm up around her to rub gentle circles into the small of her back. “We’re… disagreeing.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” he says. “And even if I was, it wouldn’t be because you kissed me. Why would I be avoiding you because of that? I said that you could, didn’t I?”

“But you are mad,” she says.

“At me,” he clarifies. “Not at you.”

“Why?” she asks. “Yoongi, tell me.” He flushes, feeling incredibly trapped by the way her doe eyes look up at him. Refusing her wishes feels impossible, these days, so he supposes that honesty is the best policy in this case.

“Because I wanted you to kiss me again,” he admits, cheeks burning hot with shame. “Even though everything was fine as it already was.” Yuri blinks slowly at him upon his admission.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I get it,” she says, and despite being forgiven, he can’t help but frown at how understanding she’s being—it’s more than he deserves at this point, if he’s being honest.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s scary.” Words are hard right now.

“I think it’s why I could never say anything,” she continues. “It’s so easy to love someone without them knowing, because you get to live off these happy little fantasies of being together and everything being perfect in your head. I think that’s why being loved back is scary. Because then anything is a possibility. It’s kind of like—it’s kind of like finishing a really good webtoon.” He chuckles softly at the comparison, fondly bumping his nose against hers. “It is! Because then you have nothing left and you’re hit with that post-webtoon depression, because the fun and the fantasies and the excitement are over and then you’re left to deal with the real world. And sometimes the real world means that everything changes, or that even if the person you want loves you back right now, they might change their mind later on. And that’s scary.”

“I still want to be able to talk to you like we used to,” he says. “But I also still want to kiss you. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“Kiss me, then,” she says. “We don’t—we don’t have to think about it or talk about it or decide anything. Just kiss me. Please.”

And so he does.

It makes him shiver, the way she seems to shrink when her back presses against the wall, the way she feels so small when he cages her between his arms, the way her tiny hands find purchase against his chest before travelling up to wind behind his neck.

Yoongi can’t find it in himself to be afraid at that moment. He’d kiss Lim Yuri forever, if she let him.

[momothegeckho]

arranged. |04

|01 |02 |03

Summary: Chiara was living out her days normally, when against her will, she is betrothed to Seto Kaiba for a business deal. She does not approve, and expects Kaiba not to either... until she hears he is the one who facilitated this deal.

The OC is Chiara Fuyu, daughter to one of the best holotech labs internationally, named Fuyu Corp. Her father agrees to have her married to Seto on grounds of uniting Fuyu Corp under Kaiba Corp.

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“Sunny? Kaiba was about to touch me at dinner when I was crying, but he just stopped. Why does he do that?”

There was silence, before Sunny began to speak.

“From the contract I have on file, it states that he is not allowed to touch you until you are 18 and give consent, or unless your father approves. Other than that, touching you directly is forbidden and punishable by annulment of the contract.”

… huh.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

I wanted to hate this place, but that was the best sleep I’ve had in awhile. Although, I was too proud to admit that out loud. Still, I had no will to leave my bed and explore. Not today. I was still emotionally exhausted from last night. I wondered if Kaiba was, too, but that thought quickly left my head, because there was no damn way he was worried about me. 

“Ms. Chiara, it is currently 9 in the morning! You have no plans for the day, but it is still important to move about and keep your morale high!”

Sunny started up automatically, and started reporting the weather, recent news, and even a horoscope. Though I barely listened.

“Sunny, please cancel morning protocol for today. I don’t feel very well. I’ll be laying here for a little longer.”

It was silent before the AI spoke up again, apologizing and going silent after a short “get-better-soon” message.

It took awhile for me to get out of bed and stand properly. I cringed at the cold floor before walking to one of the windows in my room, moving the curtain a small bit to look outside and being actively blinded by the bright sky. Out in the front of the house I saw Kaiba talking with a man dressed in a suit, carrying a box with him. He handed it off to Kaiba and left quickly, which looked really shady, though I wouldn’t be surprised if Seto was involved with shady business, either.

Kaiba turned to come back into the house, but looked up and caught me looking out of the window. I was locked in a staring contest with him before he resumed walking inside, and then I felt silly, allowing myself to look at him for so long after such a bad night. I stepped away from the window, and decided to freshen up and work at my desk. I resigned myself to not leaving my room in protest, and yes, that is very childish, but after the scenes from yesterday, I’m too embarrassed and sensitive to deal with interaction today.

After a long shower to cry a bit more and think about my life for the 100th time in two days, I sat down at my desk and began to write. Blueprints for new inventions, strategies for duel monsters, things that I could care less about became a distraction from my feelings. I managed to distract myself until noon, ignoring Sunny’s requests for me to leave my room to at least eat. I could care less. I didn’t want to see anyone, let alone talk. I wasn’t in the mood.

I went a good half hour more working on whatever I saw fit, until I heard a knock on my door. I didn’t bother to ask who it was, assuming it was a staff member checking to see if I was alive. My guess was wrong, however, because the voice I heard was none other than the sociopathic and sadistic Seto Kaiba.

“I’m coming in.”

So much for invitations.

I heard the door open behind me and close as well, meaning Kaiba had placed us in a room together behind a closed door. Perfect.

“I thought you were supposed to wait for an invitation before entering someone’s room.” I spoke without turning, not wanting to face him just yet.

“You didn’t answer me, so I let myself in.”

I heard him stepping closer to where I was, and it took everything in me not to visibly panic with every step I heard.

“Why haven’t you come out of your room? Do you plan to starve yourself to death?”

“And why do you care? I’m just fine. I won’t starve from one day of no food.”

It was silent for a bit. Maybe I shouldn’t have sounded so harsh in my statement, but I think I got my point across.

“Fine then. Do what you wish. I won’t force you to take care of yourself if you aren’t willing to cooperate.”

His tone was harsh, I could feel them stabbing me as he said them, but I was too proud to let him know that. Whatever he wanted to say about me, fine! Like I cared.

“Here. This is for you. When you are ready to cooperate, I will be waiting. We will be going out for lunch. You are free to join if you wish.”

Kaiba set the box down gently on my desk, the same one I saw him collect outside. He walked away and left my room without a word before I could say ‘thank you’. I spent a few minutes just looking at the box. Asking myself why Kaiba would get something for me if he hated me. A peace offering? Maybe there was a bomb in this box… Maybe I was just trying to find a reason to hate him… I guess that was pretty mean of me.

I went to open up the box with a pair of scissors, and the first thing I saw was a framed photo of my family. Back when my mother and siblings were around. I picked up the picture slowly, afraid it would disappear if I was too rough. The framing was beautiful, and the picture was beautiful. Had Kaiba really done this for me? I hadn’t seen this picture since my mom was around. My father had hidden them all. Under the framed photo, There was a beautiful sundress that matched my childhood photo down to the last detail, including my favorite hat and shoes. This only surprised me because they had stopped making these items when I was a child. Which means, Kaiba had gotten them custom-made for me. There was a note under the clothes, and I couldn’t help but smile as I opened it.

“Chiara. As my betrothed, I aim to make your stay as comfortable as possible. Your father had these photos encrypted, so it was hard to find them, but nonetheless, I wouldn’t settle for less. We will be going out for lunch, and I know you are hungry, so get changed and meet us in front by noon, otherwise I will assume you are not interested in settling things maturely with me.”

The note was laced with so much sarcasm and sass, but I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Kaiba wasn’t as bad as I thought he was, and maybe I owed it to him to make this work, otherwise our lives would be a neverending hell. I got dressed as fast as I could, smiling at my reflection. 

‘Okay… I’ll try out the fiance thing. At least then I could say I tried.’

I opened my door cautiously and made my way to the entrance, trying to shake off the nervous jitters and push down my pride. He had gone through so much trouble. I owed him this much. I opened the door and was greeted with the warm sun and a gentle breeze in the air. As my eyes adjusted, I saw Seto waiting by his car, stone-faced as usual. I smiled a little, a bit nervous as to what the afternoon would hold for us.

“So you decided to stop being so stubborn and come out. It took you long enough.”

I rolled my eyes and stood in front of him. I couldn’t help the small smile on my face.

“You know, I realized that if I came along, I could waste more of your money, so I just couldn’t refuse.”

He smirked as he opened the passenger door. “Fine then. Hurry and get in. We have a reservation to keep.”

A reservation? Could it be that he knew I would come out anyway? Maybe he would have dragged me out instead if I was really adamant in not going. That seemed more his speed.

“Thank you. I hope that we will be able to talk during this outing, as well.”

Instead of an answer, he closed the door gently and went to the driver’s side to start the car.

“We’ll have all the time to talk. Since you are so adamant in talking about things you already know.”

If I could just smack him right now… If only… 

//////////

Kaiba wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was relieved to see Chiara out of her room. What he couldn’t say in words, he put into that box, and clearly, it had paid off, because here she was, willing to communicate with him.

That morning when he woke up, he had hoped to see her at breakfast, but was disappointed when she hadn’t come. Mokuba had even felt bad for Chiara, and he didn’t feel bad for many people. SInce he couldn’t just walk in and apologize, he had hoped his sincere feelings would come through if he gifted Chiara something she hadn’t seen or had since childhood. Hopefully, she would see how much he cared.

Needless to say, he was glad to see Chiara smile. She was prettier that way.

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I think it may be a bit shorter than I thought, but balancing this and school work has been really hard lately.. 

Part 5 is up but I’m not at my computer to link it so please look through my page for 5

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

I notice you post quite a bit about your family being extremely poor but also are an adult and seem to write a lot. Do you work to help out your family, or are you unable to? There are jobs out there that involve writing if that’s the extent you're capable of, like if disabilities get in the way of normal jobs. The level of poverty you describe your family dealing with is really depressing.

So...

I spent 11/14 years in one Christian School. There was a hiatus of 3 years of me trying out public school but I got shoved back into RBCS in 8th grade and stayed. I did not not want to go but Sperm Donor said it was a punishment for my behavior, so I’d be forced to be around Bible Thumpers every damn day.

Private Schools in America cost money. Tuition for this place was $1500 a year for kids over 10. I found out my mom’s brother John paid all my former years of education there to try and keep me close to the family(since my Nana was my school teacher) and make sure my mom didn’t go full broke.

Sperm Donor was in a pickle himself at the time. He was in the processes of being arrested for stealing nearly a million dollars from his clients(he was a financial adviser). He only took from the very desperate, disabled clients too. One died because her parents couldn’t afford her medication, because he was stealing their money. We were in a tight spot as a result, though I didn’t know enough until later. He didn’t pay my tuition or book fees($100+).

So he’s carted off to prison a month before 8th grade ends and I’m sent back to my mom’s custody. And my principal(also pastor) calls my mom to inform her that she has a $1600+ bill to pay for my schooling. She definitely does not have that and I certainly don’t either.

Next day at school I get cornered about how stealing is a sin and dishonesty is a sin(instead of blaming Sperm Donor because God forbid the man in prison for STEALING be in the wrong here). I’m offered a chance to lower the bill if I go candy-selling with the rest of the students every Friday. I will get half the profits made and it’ll be taken off my debt. So I told my mom I’d help her out and I went and did it. I ended up having to stay in the school another year where the money added on and I went candy-selling on Tuesdays too to try and make up for it. I’d earn about $50 each time so $100 a week was put toward the debt, meaning $400 a month. 

The chick who was the school/church secretary however, was a bitch who had it out for us. Monthly we’d get notices about how much debt we were in with the school, and one month a student would have $457 and the next month on the first day they apparently had $890. If tuition monthly is about $150 for teen, how did the number shoot up so much? Mine kept getting abnormally higher and reaching into the $3,000s. And I told my mom who then bitched at the school. 

The secretary barely finished high school and the only reason she was in that position that she was not capable of handling alone or at all, was because she was kissing the church’s ass. She had sex outside of marriage on school property and got pregnant and was forced to marry him to save her dignity the moment she turned 18. They kept her very close with guilt ever since. Instead of just leaving, she chose to stay and be a bitch to everyone.

My tuition issue plagued me the entire time no matter how much I did. I was so stressed constantly and letters from Sperm Donor who got to write to me in prison, said the school wouldn’t accept his tuition payments when he re-enrolled me. He said he even got his new fiance to monitor a fund he set up before leaving, and sent the money in monthly for the year he signed on. IDK who to believe because he’s a pathological liar, but the church has also been trying for 4 years to get me back into their fold, popping up at my mom’s house uninvited, trying to guilt trip me with Godly reasons, accusing me of being a ‘whore’ who needs to get right with God all because I wore pants, and using my terminally ill Nana as an excuse. They very much would and have actually taken payments without recording them in the logbooks.

I spent my HS years in debt, working hard to get out of it. My HS teacher actually helped me by letting me clean her house once a month and I’d earn $150 in two days because the house was pretty big. I ended up candy-selling more and more days a week and bringing candy boxes home to sell in the neighborhood.

And it seemed to never let up. The numbers did not match. Somehow my debt was always in the $2000s+ but I was making at least $300 a month? My mom finally snapped and said she’d call the cops on the school if something didn’t change. A month later we get the updates to our accounts and the numbers dropped drastically. My Senior Year and I only had a couple hundred dollars left. And the Secretary was suspiciously quiet from then on and kept to herself and left us alone.

Still, I spent the whole time doing candy-selling for them so much, and having to attend church activities for them, that I never got a job. Candy-selling actually brought in more money than what a teen would be allowed to earn anyway. At the time I was so up the church’s ass and scared to make my own decisions that they said I wasn’t capable of making because I was so young, I had already agreed to continue being the church pianist past graduation and they’d agreed to help me fund college so long as I went to the one of their choice with my friends. They had set up my future vocation(teacher in the their school, pianist in their church) and my future husband(Sam most likely) and I wouldn’t have to do anything but follow rules. And as I was scared, I planned to go along with it.

But then they fucked me over a week before Senior Year ended and when June 5th passed and I got my diploma, I peaced out. We changed our phone number, stopped coming to the door when they came by, and ignored their chances at re-connection. And it was months after I got fucked over when they found out they were the ones in the wrong and tried to half ass an apology to me. Didn’t work.

After graduating, my step-dad demanded I get a job finally. Mind you, his failure of a son dropped out of HS & moved to PA with us and proceeded to rely on daddy to do all his work for him. Daddy got him a job at Weis, he faked being sick so much he was fired. Daddy got him another job at Walmart, he took too many days off and he got fired. He moved out of our house and in with his new girlfriend(after milking 3 of their cash already). This one was a trust fund baby(Bree) who was adopted. Her parents paid for her apartment, her nursing education, and gave her a card with $1,000 on it a month for anything she needed. Step-bro moved in and they wasted that whole card name-brand candy in a week. 

She started skipping classes to go out to eat with him. Her parents stopped by to see if she was doing well because the school became concerned over abnormal behavior. They wanted step-bro out of the apartment and the relationship to end because they said he was using her for her money(he was and admitted it to mine and my mom’s faces) and would get in the way of her goals in life. She refused. They said they’d take away her card if she didn’t. Well, they did. And another month went by with no changes and they withdrew the full payments for the schooling too. She dropped out. And finally the apartment a month after that.

So now she’s homeless and step-bro manages to swindle both of them back into our apartment. They have to sleep on the floor in the living room. Daddy got them both jobs at Amazon with him. The pay was pretty fucking good at the time. There was a year in between there where we had money and were contemplating getting our own house for the first time. Things were going well.

Step-dad didn’t try to help me get a job though. I asked for help because my search went nowhere. Those 3 got transportation every day and I was stuck with walking. We lived on a mountain and all businesses were at the bottom 2 miles away, so I applied to all available businesses within 2 miles, either in person or online. Never got any responses. As it was a bust, my mom just said, ‘help clean the house since they’re gone all day and help be my legs to watch your sister and I’ll consider that your rent’. So I did. Every day. And I hated it. And there are a lot of posts on here from then of me complaining about it.

So I asked him for help and he never did. But he would demand to know why I didn’t have a job yet or why the house wasn’t perfectly clean? And I’m like, “Dude, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere. You don’t take your dishes into the kitchen. I clean in the day, you get back in the evening and trash the place and by the morning when you’re gone, it’s all a mess. You only see mess because it’s all you 3 make all day with candy wrappers and soda cans!”

After year he had a seizure on the floor and had to be rushed to the hospital from Amazon. Epileptic issues meant no more work at Amazon because his job was operating heavy machinery and he kept having small seizures weeks later! Without him there every day to keep step-bro and gf on their toes, they started calling in sick together or skipping work with dumb reasons. They got fired soon after. The job hunt was a failure, but daddy was still getting jobs for all of them! Instead of over the table jobs, they now worked under the table, fixing up houses(sheetrock, spackle, insulation, etc...). Still didn’t try and help me get a job. I didn’t know how to do any of that, but gf didn’t either but they taught her how to do it.

Frankly, it got to a point of me being a live-in maid in exchange for me staying under their roof, while step-bro and gf made up excuses to not have to help step-dad. Sick, business, too tired, whatever they came up with. I remained home, handling my sister’s online education with my mom, cleaning the house, handling my sister’s bullies, handling our shitty inspector, and all that crap.

Step-dad takes in a friend of his who was evicted and homeless so he’s sleeping on our other couch at this time. Kind of easy to forget but we felt bad for his situation as it was his girlfriend who fucked him over.

And then step-dad and step-bro opened their mouths on something they should have avoided. In that place we kept to ourselves. There was shady shit going on. Murder, drug deals, drive-bys, etc. Mom and I left them all alone and turned the other way and they left us alone. 19 years in that place. If a cop came by asking questions of the only white person in the joint, she’d go, ‘we know nothing, we saw nothing, sorry’. But step-dad and Junior opened their mouths and one of the newer guys reported the son and gf because they weren’t on our lease. We got evicted after 19 years of good relations with management because someone inserted an opinion in something he should have stayed out of.

So 30 days to gtfo, no one in the house has a real job with consistent pay, we move in with my mom’s uncle for the time being. The house is huge with many bedrooms but to conserve space, I, mom, and my sister bunk in the same room. Mom and Bethy got the bed and I slept on the floor for 2 years. Step-dad don’t know what the eff he’s doing for months. We’re up in buttfuck Egypt. He and the Tweedle dimwits are still doing what they were doing before but now have to drive 3 hours to and 3 hours back just to make it. Mom is doing surveys online to make extra money. She’s trying to do her best while disabled. I’m helping clean the house as my form of payment. The car fails, money that was being saved up to move out, has to go to that. The next one fails too so that has to be handled and we’re in debt now! Christmases and Birthdays are nonexistent. Her Uncle’s new wife isn’t quite so open to us being there and complains a lot.

Step-dad manages to make a deal with a guy he’s working with. He fixes up a house the guy owns, and works for him on more houses after that, and he’ll get a considerably low payment for the rent monthly. He didn’t do much work and lied to mom about what was done and when all was said and done, we moved in and it was a wreck. Worse than it is now but it’s still pretty effin terrible. No kitchen, the bathroom is half-finished still, no insulation, power problems, you name it. It’s bad. But cheap because the lease shows we owe $20 a month instead of $200 because the guy forgot to add a zero when he was drawing up the contract.

Then step-bro and gf manage to convince step-bro’s grammy to move down to PA and rent a house for them to use. They still don’t have jobs, disabled grammy pays for everything. Step-dad’s couch-dwelling friend gets a new gf and moves in with her. Step-dad is driving 3 hours to work and by the time he gets back, he sleeps for 4 hours and then has to leave again. Finally he starts staying at his son’s place because it’s closer and less gas to spend, but that also means he’s taken the car. We’re stranded here with only a mini mart across the street as the only shop for miles! He makes excuses for why he can’t come up. Mom has so many health problems but hasn’t seen a doctor in 5 years because of this. I haven’t seen one in 6. My sister is the only one with regular appointments because they’re necessary for school. If anything, at least she remains unaffected by this crap.

I too have taken to doing surveys now. If I get 500 pts a day that’s a $5 gift card to target which delivers here. One of the few places that do.

I can’t even work at the mini mart because the man has 6 employees for each day of the day. 1 works with him each day but Monday where he works alone because there’s less rush on Mondays.

No matter how I complain it’s not like I can go anywhere. There’s still a roof over my head and I have access to the internet. Even if I’m cold every day, borderline ill, and miserable, it’s better than being on the streets.

Some poor people are very unlucky. We are those people. The ones where everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Step-dad’s been through 4 cars since coming here cuz they keep breaking down and needing to be fixed. My sister’s been sick every other month. Power goes out a lot.

I cope by whining online.

[prorevenge]

My friend's ex-wife gets his family's business shut down and burns their lives to the ground (not what you may think)

Sorry for the somewhat misleading title, but I couldn't resist.

This story isn't about me but two people I'm friends with. We'll call one Rae and one Justin. I'm posting this with Justin's permission, and he'll probably be reading the thread.

Pretty quickly after they moved, they decided to get amicably divorced, since they never wanted to be married anyway. They still lived together for a while, and basically became something between platonic roommates and each other's only family. Over time, they started dating other people. Some partners were scared off by the weird relationship between them, but most got it, and understood that Justin and Rae had basically bonded though mutual trauma. I also met both of them during this time, and we became close friends.

This whole time, both their families and other members of their community were relentlessly harassing them. People were showing up at their house at all hours, and they had reason to believe people were trying to steal their identities over the years, though they'd fortunately both put a freeze on their credit, so nothing ever came of it.

Then Justin had a bad accident. A really bad accident. He was on his bike and a car blew through a stop sign without slowing down and plowed right into him. He had to be rushed to the hospital and landed in the ICU. Rae was his emergency contact, and I was with her and some other friends when she got the call. I immediately drove her to the hospital with a couple of other people, and she was melting down (understandably). The hospital staff wouldn't let us all in when we got there, but they let Rae in. She came out periodically to let us know what was going on. Justin wasn't unconscious, but he was totally out of it and didn't seem to know she was there, probably from the painkillers, but she was convinced he had permanent dehabilitating brain damage and basically the group of us were just soothing her and reassuring her it would be fine. A friend of ours who worked at the hospital as an MRI tech was also stopping by when she could on her breaks and calming down Rae. We'd been there all night and part of the day at this point, and the medical staff was giving us reason to be hopeful.

But things got worse. To this day, no one knows how they found out, but 14 hours after Justin's accident, his parents, uncles, and grandfather showed up. They immediately had all of us removed from the ICU, Rae included. Unfortunately, as his ex-wife, she was no longer his legal next-of-kin and had no rights against his blood family.

At this point, she was absolutely hysterical and inconsolable. She was convinced Justin's family would hurt him. I'm ashamed to say all three of us that were there with her thought she was overreacting. We all knew Rae and Justin had left a fucked-up situation, but it wasn't like his own family would do anything to impede his recovery. She was getting angry with us for trying to calm her down, and tried to explain that according to their religion, she and Justin deserved punishment from God, and only the greatest suffering could prompt repenting and redemption. She said their families embraced this thinking and wanted them to suffer, because it would prove that they did the wrong thing by leaving, and suffering would drive them back to the fold. She said as long as Justin was with his family, he wouldn't be safe.

Our friend who worked for the hospital came and found Rae at that point. She made Rae swear up and down she wouldn't tell anyone she told her this, because she could get in deep trouble for releasing privileged information to someone unauthorized, but she'd caught wind that Justin's parents were aggressively demanding the hospital release him into their care, and they were involving lawyers. The hospital was currently refusing, because Justin wasn't stable enough to leave, but our friend warned Rae that as soon as Justin got to be stable, or the lawyers scared the hospital enough, it's possible the parents would be able to take Justin.

This shocked the rest of us. Realizing his parents were not only willing to remove Justin from the hospital that had saved his life in the condition he was still in, but were actively trying to do it made us really "get" for the first time why Rae was going out of her head with fear.

At this point, Rae snapped into do-or-die mode. Convinced that Justin was about to literally die if she didn't act, she decided she would do everything in her power to start a fire at home so that Justin's family would want to run back to put it out. And this wasn't too hard, because she had a lot of dirt on the whole community she came from. Like a madwoman, she started blowing the whistle all over Justin's family. She called the IRS's fraud hotline and detailed all the ways that the family business was committing tax fraud. She submitted an ATF tip about how that same family business was illegally selling firearms without a license and without following any of the proper protocols, and was knowingly selling guns to convicted felons. She reported one of Justin's uncles for owning several guns as a convicted felon. She also reported Justin's mom's unlicensed day care "business," which was apparently extremely shady, including having over 30 children packed into one house, with Justin's mom as the only adult and many of the childcare duties being farmed out to Justin's 12- and 14-year-old sisters. She called CPS on Justin's uncles and his parents for keeping their children out of school, and for physical abuse in one uncle's case. In all of these reports, she provided extensive details.

She finished her calls and emails, and then she waited. We all waited for several hours, and nothing happened. Then, miraculously, Justin become lucid enough to understand what was going on and make his own decisions, and he kicked his family out again. From there began a slow but steady path to recovery.

In all the relief and excitement to see Justin on the mend, we'd almost forgotten about Rae's campaign of desperation, until a couple of weeks later, when the screaming voicemails started pouring in to both of them. First, the business was being investigated by the IRS, then it was being investigated for illegal firearms dealing. Then the daycare was getting investigated. At first, Rae felt a little guilty, but then she was like, "You know what? No regrets. They would have killed Justin."

From what they've been able piece together in the year and a half since this happened, the business has gone under, and the daycare is shuttered. The uncle is six months into a new five-year prison sentence for firearm possession. CPS investigated, which scared the shit out of the family, but nothing really came of it, which is especially sad in the case of the cousins being physically abused. That said, the parents are now too scared to keep the kids home from school, and with the unlicensed daycare shut down, the mom's not exploiting her daughters' labor anyway, so she has no incentive to keep them home. So Justin's little siblings are at least getting their education.

Justin and Rae are both happy and thriving. Justin unfortunately will never fully recover from the accident. He has some permanent neurological damage that results in tremors. But he's pumped to be alive, he can work a full-time job, he can still be pretty physically active, and as far as I'm concerned, he wins.

TL;DR: Kooky abusive family tries to remove my friend from critical medical care because reasons (??), and his ex-wife hits the panic button that burns their lives to the ground.

(source) story by (/u/Throwawayallaway4)

[deadexin]

Grim update.. with a touch of good news (long post :/ )

So, hey guys.. I know I haven't been posting at all for pretty much weeks at a time. Why that is, is because my parents continue to take away everything I have, thinking that it will push me to "do better" in school. (Believe me, I know that sounds like some little rich kid complaining, but it gets ridiculous). My parents are kicking me out soon and I'd like to point out what's happened/what I found out in just the past month (there have been other things too, but this post is really long..):

My parents have been reading my bank statements (my mail) when neither of their names are on my account anymore. I finally took them off when my mom started taking money out that wasn't for her, and was meant for my gecko, which left me no money to buy food for my gecko.

My parents have been mocking me for saying that I have no idea what's going on with my head and that I legit have something wrong. (I've been having the worst time trying to get past The Big Wall when doing my school work). They chalk it up to just being lazy and refuse to listen to me.

My parents have been trying to control what I buy. My dad often doesn't cook for me or set aside anything for me to cook, demanding I buy my own food. Problem is, is that my mother has blocked any and all websites where I could buy groceries or deliver food. And I can't exactly leave home to shop, either, because my parents will trash my room looking for something to punish me for. And I can't have them do that again, because they stress out my gecko Olive every damn time.

My parents are lit-er-ally kicking me out and they've been trying to find ways to tie me down and make me stay here. I've said "Hey I'm looking for a job" and they said "What's the point? Why do you think that will help you?"....???? I said "Hey these close friends of mine, that I have definitely told you about, have offered to help me out with find a place" and they said "Who?? Are you saying we don't care and that we're just kicking you to the curb?" Uhm... Yes, you are, last I checked.

And now my mom has basically decided that I'm never getting my phone back (I have it back only for a while because I need my phone for some things). She's going to trade it in, most likely, and I will be left with pretty much no way to talk with my boyfriend or with people who can get me out of here.

My parents are kicking me out in 7 months and they have never been more controlling...

Here's the good news, though:

I will not name anyone and I will not say where, due to my parents possibly trying to figure out where I'll be

I have a few very close friends who hate what's going on and they offered to let me move in, once they find a new apartment. I didn't even ask and they offered and it makes me really happy. This is my big chance to finally get away from my parents.

I know some of you are going to think "Well he's just being overdramatic. He should suck it up and deal with it, like the big boys do!"... I have been dealing with it. For years. And I've had enough, and besides, they're kicking me out anyway. I'm finally going to be able to get my feet under me and not worry about my parents kicking me over.

So that's been my situation and it'll most likely only get worse. I'd leave right fuckin now, but I can't because they'll go after me due to me not being 18 just yet, and I need money from my church gig so I can buy myself a phone and cell plan.