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utopianvoices · 3 years

Text

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner.

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments.

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend.

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life.

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen.

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face.

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands.

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.”

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering.

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?”

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern.

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.”

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal.

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.”

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets.

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment.

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face.

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room.

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?”

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.”

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity.

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave.

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!”

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.”

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.”

“Wow.”

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting.

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend.

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!”

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you.

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.”

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way.

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!”

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present.

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.”

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you.

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile.

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!”

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix.

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!”

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off.

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?”

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder.

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.”

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.”

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.”

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces.

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining.

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him.

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you.

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

“Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.”

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you.

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management.

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table.

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you.

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!”

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday.

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along.

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?”

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin.

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.”

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation.

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!”

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend.

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying.

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?”

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!”

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.”

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory.

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!”

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved.

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!”

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore.

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life.

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.”

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun.

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!”

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.”

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin.

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!”

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten.

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?”

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans.

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.”

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.”

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead—but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours.

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be.

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself.

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim.

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge.

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!”

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks.

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes.

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide.

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice.

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you.

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh I came here to water my plants.”

Plants?

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.”

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!”

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person.

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice.

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.”

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.”

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too.

One question at a time, you decide.

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue.

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.”

Oh. That’s all your questions answered.

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do.

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you.

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.”

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you.

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.”

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.”

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.”

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.”

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess.

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.”

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?”

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?”

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.”

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!”

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?”

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push.

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.”

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk.

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered.

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought.

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting.

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!”

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter.

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page.

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten.

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.”

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down.

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same.

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.”

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home.

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!”

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii.

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things.

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was.

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours.

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?”

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?”

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered.

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.”

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out.

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.”

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising.

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.”

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure.

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?”

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy.

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing.

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.”

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.”

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed.

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing.

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you.

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back.

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush.

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time.

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his.

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up.

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ‘SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you.

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions.

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.”

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?”

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends.

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate.

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish.

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.”

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him.

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!”

You were going to kill that idiot.

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room.

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other.

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.”

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue.

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes.

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself.

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left.

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss.

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before.

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions.

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition.

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game.

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat.

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm.

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?”

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him.

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment.

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.”

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk.

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering.

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?”

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.”

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin.

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!”

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.”

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.”

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door.

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you.

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck.

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?”

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities.

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.”

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost.

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop.

“I think I like you.”

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say.

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him.

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough.

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears.

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing.

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop.

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts.

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday.

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.”

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?”

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right.

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed.

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him.

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face.

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.”

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out.

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?”

“W-what?”

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?”

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks.

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle.

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room.

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it.

Chan was smiling.

“Can’t believe it worked.”

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly.

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin.

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck.

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.”

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved.

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out. “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier.

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing.

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough.

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh.

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face.

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!”

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids #bang chan #stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshot #skz x reader #skz fluff #chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan oneshot #dee scribbles

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Chapter 6: Andersen’s Fairy Tales

…in which Harry teaches Ezi how to read.

Word count: 4k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: please please let me know what you think. I can't write without motivation 😭

When Harry finally decided to answer his mother’s call, he had prepared himself for some verbal ass-whooping. He was twenty-four years old, a celebrity and a millionaire, yet still getting scolded by his mother on a daily basis. Life was good.

“Is your date okay?” The first thing his mother said to him was this. At first, Harry thought he’d misheard it. But then she repeated the question in a more urgent and concerning tone. “Harry, is Ezili okay?”

His mother had never remembered the name of any girl he’d brought home. His mother always had a lot to say about the way those girls had dressed, talked, and carried themselves. Had Ezi charmed his mother with her siren magic?

Harry shuddered at the thought. “Y-Yeah...why?”

“Dawson told me you and Bax got into a fight at the manor.”

Harry smacked his forehead. Fucking Dawson. “How did Dawson know?”

“He found Bax lying on the floor.”

Although Harry hated to recall that night because he couldn’t imagine how scared Ezi must have been, it was funny to think about how pathetic Bax must have looked when Dawson had found him. The mental image made Harry laugh. “See?” he told his mother. “It wasn’t a fight if it was one-sided. I beat him up.”

His mother exhaled sharply. Harry could imagine her with her eyes closed, shaking her head. “The only reason I will let you get away with fighting your cousin in my house is because I know what he was trying to do with Ezili. So I called to ask if she was okay.”

“She’s okay. Don’t worry. I think she also scared him.”

“She’s a woman. Any strong woman would’ve been terrified in that situation,” said Harry’s mum. “I feel bad for having let that happen. I shouldn’t have invited him.”

“It’s not your fault, Mum. He’s always been scum.”

There was a pause, and Harry knew exactly what his mother was going to say. “Bax’s parents have always hated us. They envy your father. I think they’re trying to sabotage our wine business. Maybe if you’d change your mind--”

“Mum, we’ve talked about this,” Harry sighed. “I love my career. I can’t...I’m not a businessman like Dad. Isn’t Dawson doing a good job managing our family business already?”

“He is. But I know your father would’ve wanted it to be you.” When Harry stayed quiet, his mother knew it was a sign that this topic shouldn’t be continued, so she switched to another. “You should invite Ezili to lunch at the manor.”

“Mum, that wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Nonsense! Her first time in our house and she got absolutely traumatised. I’ll make up for it. I’ll send you an invitation in the afternoon.”

“Mum, there’s no need for an in--”

But his Mum already hung up on him.

Sighing, Harry sunk back into his chair. A staff member knocked on the door and informed him that he would have to return to the set in fifteen minutes. He told them he got it and intended to call his mum again and try to talk her out of the lunch thing with Ezi. That was when he got another call.

“Don’t tell me someone’s injured. It’s only been an hour.”

“Worse!” Niall screamed. “Dawson kidnapped the girl!”

Ezili didn’t know if the bookstore was small or Harry’s house was just too big, but she liked the cosiness of it in contrast to what she’d always been used to. There were bookshelves climbing all the way up to the ceiling. The walls were covered with hundreds of books of all sizes, and there were dozens of piles on the floor in the corners as well. But seeing that most of the furniture was covered in dust, Ezili guessed they didn’t often have visitors.

She wondered why nobody wanted to come into this fascinating place. She loved books even though she couldn’t read or write. She’d found a few books in her room and some of them had pictures, but she could only guess what the stories were about. So she wanted to read, but it would be something her mother would never approve of. If she learned to read, she’d become a laughing stock for her kind for sure.

Entering the bookstore, Ezili and Dawson were greeted by an old lady with crazy chestnut hair that looked like she was wearing a fluffy dog on her head. Her eyes were huge behind those thick round glasses that gave her a psychotic kind of look that absolutely terrified Ezili.

“Hello, love birds,” she said with an ear-to-ear grin. Ezili could not take her eyes off the shiny wires attached to this lady’s teeth. They sparkled every time she opened her mouth. This woman must be rich if she wore silver on her teeth.

“Oh, we’re not birds,” Ezili said as she pulled Chilli tighter to her chest.

The crazy lady hugged her stomach and burst out laughing. “She’s a funny girl,” she told Dawson, pointing to Ezili, then her face turned serious. “But no cats allowed.”

“She’s with me. Her name is Chilli and she’s very nice--”

“She can stay here while you pick your books.” Before Ezili could protest, the lady took the black cat and put it on the counter. “So what are you looking for?”

“Thank you. We’ll just have a look around,” Dawson said with a tight smile and pulled Ezili with him. They turned into one of the aisles and heard the lady telling them she’d be here if they needed help. What kind of help would you need in a bookstore? It wasn’t like books would attack you.

“The Book of Wisdom,” Dawson said as he took out one colourful book from a higher shelf. Ezili peered over his arm as he scrutinised the front cover. He smelled like coconut and summer, which reminded her of those tropical islands she’d visited with her mother. And the fact that he was a lot taller than her made her want to bury her face into his chest to get soaked in that homely smell. But then she remembered what Harry had taught her about consent. Realising her chest was touching his arm, she stepped back and felt him relax a bit more. She hoped he didn’t think she was sexually hairdressing him. She had no idea why they called it hairdressing, and she kept forgetting to ask Harry.

“Hey, why do they call it hairdre--”

“Lesson 1: Be polite.”

Ezili jumped and hid behind Dawson’s back, her heart pounding violently. “Did the book just..talk?”

“Yeah, it’s a talking book for children,” Dawson chuckled. “I like your sense of humour.”

He flipped to a new page and the book talked again, “Remember, kids, if you accidentally raise your voice with someone, always apologise to them. It’s not nice to yell at other people.”

Ezili couldn’t decide if she was in awe or creeped out by the talking book. Maybe a little bit of both. But then her eyes zeroed in on a picture of a beautiful siren on one of the covers. She passed Dawson to try and was trying to reach for the book when his hand landed on her shoulder, and she looked up to see him grab the book without effort and hand it to her with a smile.

“You like this? It’s the new edition of Andersen’s Fairy Tale.”

“The Little Mermaid!”

“Yes.” Dawson’s eyes squinted behind his glasses. “You’ve never read Andersen’s Fairy Tales?”

“I have,” Ezili lied, hugging the book to her chest. “I want this book.”

“Great. I’ll buy it for you. As a gift.”

Harry had told Ezili that humans couldn’t just take the things they found because they would get arrested, and apparently, they couldn’t fight and kill each other for things either. It didn’t sound fair and was kind of stupid. Why were humans so dependent on these stupid papers they called money? Ezili couldn’t understand how their inferior brains worked sometimes.

“Hey, look,” Dawson said, holding up his phone that was buzzing in his hand. “Harry’s calling.”

Ezili couldn’t care less about Harry now. She let Dawson speak to him while she flipped through the book to look at pictures. But...why was there a picture of the prince and another girl? Didn’t he marry Ariel? She tried to look for the ones that revealed the new ending, which was apparently different from what she’d seen on the telly, but the rest of the chapter was just text and no pictures. She hated this. She wished she could read.

“Yeah, she’s here with me. The bookstore is just a few blocks near your house…” Dawson finished the call with Harry and turned back to Ezili. “He’s coming to pick you up.”

She found it strange that Harry would speak about Dawson with such hatred, like the way Koa would speak about Ezili, while Dawson had always been so nice about Harry. She couldn’t recall him saying anything bad about Harry when in fact, she could go on and on for days about Harry’s bad qualities. And she’d only known him for a week!

“Why doesn’t Harry like you?”

The question seemed to have caught Dawson by surprise, but he was quick to put on a smile.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m helping his mum run the business his father left for him. But he was the one who didn’t want it. He wanted to become a singer.”

“Harry’s mother doesn’t want him to be a singer?”

“No.”

Ezili closed the book and gave an understanding nod. “My mother never lets me do things I like, either. She never thinks I’m good enough because I’m not like her.”

“I’m sure your mother loves you,” Dawson said. Ezili liked the twinkle in his eyes and tenderness in his voice when he reassured her. Maybe he had a special gift that only sirens had. The gift to charm anybody they wanted. “Every mother has their own burdens and loves us in a different way.”

“But...if they love us, should they want us to be happy?”

Ezili didn’t know where that had come from. For the last twenty years of her life, she had never once thought of this. Why now? Why now that she decided that she could have been happier if her mother hadn’t been the way she was? But sirens were all supposed to be the way her mother was. Cold and dangerous like the ocean itself. So did it mean...did it mean her mother and sister were right? That she was too weak and emotional to become Queen?

“Ezi!”

The sound of her name pulled her out of her own head. She snapped her head up to find Harry padding toward her. He looked just like that night when he’d scolded her for biting his cousin. She hated this Harry.

“Let’s go home,” he told her coldly.

Before she could reply, he took her wrist and pulled her with him. The book fell to her feet and she was too appalled to even pick it up. She was about to remind Harry that Dawson was standing right there, but then she realised Harry had intentionally ignored his cousin.

“Ezili, your book!”

Harry and Ezi stopped before they got into the car parked out front. Dawson handed her the book and beamed. “I already paid for it.”

“Thank you.”

“Very nice. Get in, Ezi.”

Dawson seemed slightly annoyed by Harry’s attitude, but he didn’t act on it. Instead, he gave Ezili another gentle smile and told her he’d see her another time. Then, he went back inside the bookstore.

Ezili wished she could have stayed with him.

“Rescue mission accomplished!” said an energetic voice as Ezili got into the back of the car. A stranger she had never seen before peered around the passenger seat and smiled at her before he started speaking in a funny accent, “You’re welcome, by the way. The name’s Niall.”

Chilli was sitting on Niall’s lap, licking her own paw, which showed that she was comfortable around Niall, and Niall wasn’t an enemy. To human Ezili, of course. All humans were enemies to sirens.

“I’m Ezili,” Ezili said, then, she recognised the funny accent. “You’re Niall...Horan?”

“You know me?”

Ezili could feel her grin stretch from ear to ear. “I saw you on TikTok! You’re so funny.”

“Look, H, a fan!” Niall exclaimed as he shook Harry’s shoulder, but Harry didn’t react as he manoeuvred the car back onto the road. “I like her already.” Niall laughed. “I’m Harry’s best friend. Are you following my TikTok?”

“Yeah. I’ve watched every single one.”

“Good, good, good,” Niall said, nodding slowly. He turned to the front and back to Ezili immediately. “Also, I’m sorry about what happened to you. The accident must have been awful.”

“What?”

“Niall,” Harry growled. “Seatbelt.”

Niall flinched. “Sorry.”

Frowning, Ezili hugged her new book and sunk into her seat. She hated this Harry. He reminded her of a whale with a toothache, and even with that image in mind, she still couldn’t laugh. That was how angry she was with him. Yes, she was angry with him being angry with her. And for pulling her out of that beautiful bookstore. For making her drop her book. For holding her hostage like a prisoner. For being rude to Dawson. She hated him. She hated Harry Styles.

So when they’d arrived home and he told her to go inside and hang with Niall, she had to chase after him and let him know how much she hated him.

“Harry Styles!” She called when they reached the white stairs leading to the enormous courtyard where he’d parked his car. “Why are you upset? You have no right to be mad at me after you lied to me.”

Harry stopped halfway down the stairs; it seemed like Ezili’s words had finally hit him. He slowly spun around with a stunned expression as if she’d accused him of manslaughtering. “I didn’t lie to you,” he said, his jaw tight. “I told you to stay in your room. You were grounded.”

“You didn’t tell me that you’d leave me with your assistant and Niall!”

“But I didn’t lie to you.”

“Telling half-truths is telling lies.”

Harry held Ezili’s gaze for a long moment before he started ascending the stairs. She stiffened as he stopped right in front of her, leaned in, and stared.

“Oh, so you’re so honest, aren’t you?” he asked in a mocking tone. “You’ve never lied to me?”

“Never,” she said confidently.

Well, that was also a lie. But since when had Ezili felt bad for lying? She’d eaten men like him. Why did his presence now make her nervous?

She hated that the more she stayed human the more human she became. That thought terrified her even more than the possibility of getting caught and killed in this foreign land.

“I’ve never lied in my entire life,” she added, making Harry's eyes grow wide.

He said nothing, and when he turned to leave, she hurriedly followed him down the stairs. “Speechless by my honesty?” she asked.

“Speechless by the lies that come out of your mouth,” he said. “Is your name even Ezi?”

“No, it’s Ezili.”

Harry let out a scoff but he didn’t stop, so Ezili grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. Hard.

“Shit! How are you so strong?” he cried out, facing her again.

“Apologise.”

“What?”

Ezili folded her arms across her chest and sharpened her gaze. “Apologise right now.”

“For what?”

“For yelling at me.”

“And why should I apologise for yelling at you?”

Ezili bit her lip. The voice inside her head told her to push him down the stairs. She could just say it was an accident, and no one could prove that she’d done it. However, she needed him alive. Sucking in a breath, she said, “Because that’s what decent people do. A talking book told me that.”

“You mean those children's books you found in the bookstore,” Harry taunted, giving her a despiteful smirk.

She scowled at him even harder. “Apologise.”

“Fine,” he breathed. “I apologise for yelling at you. Now you apologise for stealing my cat.”

“I tried to save Chilli. You see, your assistant said something about the Master of the House being dead. I thought you were dead. But she was only talking about a show--”

“Yeah, famous Netflix show. It’s good. But that’s still no excuse for taking my cat.”

“Fine.” Ezili glared at him. “I’m sorry for stealing your cat.”

“And for getting into Dawson’s car.”

“And for leaving with him and liking him.”

“And for—What is your problem with Dawson?”

Instead of answering the question, Harry pulled out his phone, looked at it, and then told Ezili, “Go inside. We’ll continue this talk when I get back.”

He was just about to run when she pulled him back by his sleeve. He gave her a ‘what do you want?’ kind of look as she stammered, “When...when you get back…”

“Yeah?” He stressed out the word, an eyebrow arched impatiently.

“Can you teach me how to read?”

“What?”

“Teach me to read. Are you deaf?”

“You can’t read?”

When Ezili shook her head, Harry’s frown transformed into a smile. “That explains a lot.”

She smacked him on the arm and he gasped and leapt down two steps.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Why are you so aggressive?” Harry winced and backed away from her. “We’ll talk about this later. Now go inside and film a TikTok with Niall or something. I’m late for a photoshoot.”

Ezili opened her mouth to ask him what time he’d be home, but Harry had already run back to his car.

Harry got home at around 10 PM. He’d had a rough day. His manager had been furious because he had run out on a magazine photoshoot without saying a word to anyone. In his defence, he’d been in a rush, and couldn’t figure out an excuse to cover up for the fact that he’d almost let a mythical creature get loose. He shouldn’t have been so careless and left her with his assistant and Niall. That was his fault. Also, he could never think straight when he was angry. He thought about the look Ezili had given him when he’d pulled her out of the bookstore. The look Dawson had given him. Fucking Dawson. If it wasn’t for him, Harry wouldn’t have had to be mean to Ezi.

“Hey.”

“Jesus!” Harry shouted when the light switched on and he saw Ezili sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room. “Wha--Why are you on the floor? Get up.”

“This is Chilli’s favourite spot so I thought I might try to see how comfortable it is. Pretty uncomfortable, I must say.”

Harry rolled his eyes and offered Ezi a hand to help her get to her feet. “Why are you still awake?”

She pulled away from him and rushed over to the table to grab the book Dawson had given her. She shoved it at him. “You promised to teach me to read. This is a collection of fairy tales. Andersen’s Fairy Tales. I noticed that one of the details from The Little Mermaid story was different from the film, so I want to know how the story actually ends in the book.”

Harry sighed as he took the book and looked at the cover. When he glanced up, Ezi was giving him these big puppy dog’s eyes with her hands clasped together in front of her chest. “It’s late,” he said tiredly.

She shook her head. “You promised!”

“I can just tell you the ending.”

“No, I want to read!”

“Fine, fine.” He put his hands up, left palm out, the other holding the book. “I guess there’s still time to teach you the alphabet then we’ll call it a day.”

Harry could have sworn he had never seen anyone as excited about learning as Ezi was, which was quite amusing, he must admit. So they sat on the couch as he taught her the alphabet and how to put letters into words. She was a fast learner, so it didn’t take long for her to memorise everything.

“It’s been three hours and I still can’t read,” Ezili whined as she hit him with a pillow.

Shocked, Harry blinked at her. “That’s not how learning works. You need time.”

“You said my brain was more developed!”

“Yeah, but still!”

Scowling, Ezi kicked Harry’s feet. “You’re the worst teacher ever. I’ll never get to know how it ends.”

“Okay, Miss Drama Queen,” Harry scoffed. “How about I read you the story now, and when you can read on your own, you can practice by rereading it?”

Ezi thought for a moment, then the line between her brows eased, and she nodded once. “But you must teach me everyday until I can read.”

“Fine,” Harry breathed as he opened the book. His body stiffened when Ezi suddenly leaned on him like he was a pillow, her cheek against his arm, and he could feel every beat of her heart.

“Go on,” she urged him, giving him a nudge.

He cleared his throat and opened the book, trying to distract his naughty mind with the innocent words of a fairy tale.

Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells, that open and close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit for the diadem of a queen...

By the time they’d finished one-third of the story, Ezi had already fallen asleep with her head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry wished he’d read this to her in bed so he wouldn’t have to carry her upstairs now. She was small and slender, but he’d had a bad day, so even the littlest inconvenience could bring down his mood. Cursing under his breath, he picked her up and carried her to the stairs as she curled against his chest like a little cat.

When her eyelids fluttered, he thought she was going to jolt awake, but then her brows knitted, and she murmured, “Mother, please...give me more time. I will bring you the heart…the heart...”

He chuckled and put her down on the bed.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x mc #harry styles x oc #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles series

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oliveroctavius · 2 years

Text

I wonder if JMD remembered while writing SSM #190 that this is not the first time Harry has been restrained while his therapist wore the Goblin mask in front of him. and that the last time--in ASM #176-180--he had to fight his way out of the situation alone because nobody believed his doctor might be putting him in danger rather than the other way around

I get the feeling that JMD has Harry flipping out as an "irrational" emotional response, but I can't help but read it as Harry also having flashbacks to probably the most upsetting thing to ever happen to him in a therapeutic setting

#jk nobody remembers the bart hamilton arc. But I Do #pry my ''bad run-ins with the psych institution absolutely retraumatized harry on top of everything else'' reading from my cold dead hands #harry osborn #panels #/ psychiatric abuse #i care a lot about psychotic harry

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bitch-i-migth-be · 2 years

Text

“If Life Gives You Ginger: Chapter 03”

Fandoms: Danny Phantom // Harry Potter

Summary: “ Rescuing ungrateful conspiracy theorist gingers from kidnap-happy stick waving weirdos in the middle of the day was not in Danny’s job description.

And yet- ”

A/N: Hufflepuffs are good at finding things, even if they have not been initiated into the cult yet. Furthermore: Danny & I have zero fucks to give.

THIS IS ON AO3, IF ANYONE WOULD PREFER TO READ THERE

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, -

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

There could be a lot said about how exactly Danny was capable of staying away from Amity Park for any length of time, let alone being at the other side of the ocean.

Truth is, the strongest ghosts were the ones that learned to shift their obsession. Learn to 'play' with it, if you must.

Danny had not even realized he was doing it at first. Until the realization smacked him all at once and had him reeling for a while.

The box ghost, for example, had once shifted it to a single box.

Pandora's box.

And that slight shift had been enough to give Danny nightmares for days, if not weeks, afterwards. Thank god Pandora had showed up to retrieve the damned thing.

Ember was another tricky one. throwing concerts as it struck her fancy and not caring if, technically, her target audience had to be the unliving nowadays, because why would the living care if the one on stage was alive as long as she sang like a goddess?

The less said about Skulker and his particular death choices, the better.

Johnny. Kitty. Technus. Walker. Spectra. Ghost Writer. And most every other of his usuals back home did it too, every single one shifted from time to time, just enough to be complete pests sometimes, but still.

It counted.

Then, there were Frostbite, Pandora, ClockWork-

Pariah.

That psychotic madman had done it too, he supposed.

He didn’t know if Vlad knew about it, and was afraid to ask in case he gave the man more ammunition in the slight chance he didn’t. Either way, he was busy enough at the moment with his new fixations and all the other things Danny had deemed acceptable to throw his way at the time as a distraction.

Like a brand new basket of kittens just last week, for example. But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

The point being, Danny was capable of shifting his priorities, in a weird ‘I’m fooling myself to pull this off’ or ‘fake it till you make it’ sort of way. He had to give some of the credit to Jazz, honestly, she had been the one to make him realize the shift in the first place, even if she insisted that had not been what she meant by positivity attracting positivity or whatever.

She should be glad he had found a way to work around the obsessive part of him that death brought along and just let it be already. Ancients knew they all had better things to worry about but- NOPE. He was not going to think about those right now.

Unless Sam, Tucker or Val — or god forbid Clockwork himself — came knocking at his door with doomsday notifications — or goddamned Post-Its stuck to his forehead again. Seriously ClockWork? Seriously ? — then he was officially on magical sabbatical.

With Wes.

It would be fun to see how long it lasted.

-.-.-

“-but energies are literally everywhere. They flow! That’s the point, how could something like ‘pure’ bloodlines even affect-? How would that even work? I-?”

“Do I look like I know how these assholes think?” Wes huffed.

It had been like half an hour since they had left the decrepit house of his whatever-the-hell-they-really-were-to-him because he had not met them until today — a hell of a ride for first impressions really, Wes didn’t think seeing them in baby photos before this mess counted — behind and started walking in a random direction. When they got sufficient distance between them and the damn place Wes would worry about proper directions. For the moment taking random turns all over the city was doing wonders for his peace of mind.

The sound of Danny mumbling curses in the background while he tried to keep up the pace and read at the same time helped some too.

Wes had not bothered to ask him if he agreed with the directionless-power-walk, but Fenton had not said anything when he dropped his invisibility and followed Wes, so he assumed it was fine. He had thrown a book of magical theory or whatever to the half ghost’s face to keep him busy just in case he had been thinking of saying something. Covered his bases, and all that.

The book in question — which Fenton was currently trying to dive face first into as if that would somehow help him understand the complete nonsense — was one that Wes might or might not have nabbed on the way out of his relative’s house. Borrowing for research purposes, obviously . But that was not relevant.

The important part was that Fenton was looking more and more distressed the more pages he turned in the damn thing, and that in itself made it all worth it. Even if the book ended up not being all that useful for Wes in the end.

The worthiness of the book in his eyes had nothing to do with him having to take Fenton’s hand to drag him around once the other had started to pay more attention to fussing over the contents of the book than walking. Clearly.

Taking it had been no more than an impulse.

Be it the slightly cool hand on his grip or the book in question.

He had more than enough books about magic back home, after all. But then again, they were back home. Where Wes would be if not for the insistence of the wizarding world in claiming and controlling every-single-person with any ounce of magical talent.

Unless you were a squib, then you could literally fuck off and they wouldn’t care less.

Actually, if you were a squib, most of them were the ones that literally told you to fuck off.

There were times Wes almost wished he had been a squib just so the damned government would leave him alone. Almost. They were not worth renouncing to part of his mother’s legacy. What little he and his father had managed to keep from her.

Once she died, Wes decided that he would like to remain with his completely non-magical dad when he hit eleven than to get sent to a boarding school in the middle of nowhere or live in a community that would treat his dad like the scum of the earth, and that was when the problems started.

Because of the blessings of merlin, the preservation of magic, the supremacy of their blood and bla, bla, BLA .

The wizarding world was all fun and games until you told them that, actually, no. You were not interested in being part of their racist backwater cult, thank you.

Education in magic? Yes, that was fine. But the cult mentality was where Wes drew the line.

They had been a goddamn pain ever since.

They skipped towns — and even countries — a couple times, finally got to Amity Park and the sheer mayhem of the ghosts and their influence — and don’t even get him started with Fenton’s everything — created helped to finally erase their tracks.

Until now, that is.

At least Masters had proven useful.

The initial triumph in his relative’s gazes when they had paraded around the damned letter proclaiming his acceptance in their wannabe school had been annoying. The sheer nerve of not even bothering to ask again if he had changed his mind about joining their ‘world’ first. Like-? It had been a long time. Maybe he had changed his mind?

He actually had, to be honest.

But just slightly , and it would need a lot — and he meant a lot — of hagging to reach some sort of agreement in that field. Or maybe just the right circumstances. But the circumstances sure as hell wouldn’t involve his literal kidnapping.

There had been desperate tears shed, like wannabe racoons, when they realized that no, he was not staying with them. As if the sight would sway him at all.

And then a letter from Masters had arrived in an overly pompous bird, because of course it did — and he might not be able to see Fenton right now, but he could feel the eye rolling as much as he felt his own —.

Wes didn’t know what the man had put in there to make his family – of kidnappers– pale so fast, but as long as it got him far away from them he would take it.

Speaking of far away -

Huh.

“What is it?” When they came to a sudden halt Danny stopped trying to smother himself with the book and started trying to steal a glance from above Wes’ shoulder, which was proving to be quite ineffective considering the redhead was almost a head taller than the other.

He decided to respond to him before Fenton started to get handsy and tried to climb him or something.

“Nothing, just-” He stole another thoughtful glance around. He still had no idea where they were exactly, but he wasn’t really seeing the place as much as plotting while superimposing another street view over the current one. Just to get an idea of the ‘could be’s’ in their hopefully extremely close future.

He turned his head to lock leaf green eyes with ocean blues.

“How do you feel about shopping?”

-.-.-.-

“Huh. This is actually nice.”

It really was, which was surprising for an outdoors coffee shop somewhere in London; the weather was rather nice. But maybe that had more to do with the magical part of the establishment, because he had gotten a look at the sky before entering the place and this was not it .

They had definitely not been anywhere near the countryside.

But lo and behold the green expanded as far as his eye could see — which was way farther than a fully alive human could, mind you.. Ancients, it sounded weird when he put it like that, ugh — , there was a damn sea of scattered flowers all over the place, and there was even a quaint little lake to top it off. The clouds were being mirrored in the still waters too, unless the breeze disturbed them. Speaking of which- the wind picked up again and he let out a sigh at it’s subtle caress. Nice . So niiice.

He didn’t really care about the state of his hair afterwards. It got way worse when he was flying around back home. It had definitely ended up a mess on the way here. The point was, that it didn’t really matter to him , some of the other patrons of the place didn’t seem to share his carelessness and were throwing judgemental looks on their direction — because Wes didn’t seem to give a single fudge either about converting their table into a glorified work table —, but that seemed more like their problem than his or Wes’s, to be honest.

Unless someone came marching their way to start something over it then he was more than happy to ignore them all together, so it didn’t affect his mood overly much.

The sight of plates, curtlery and whatever else floating around without anyone screaming holy murder was a little weird.

But still-

“So. Nice. ”

“It’s just a cake.”

Danny smiled around the spoon and turned his gaze towards his companion.

Hmm, He was not just talking about the cake, but oh the opportunity to mess with him. “A magicky cake”.

Wes had spent all the time they had been here with one of his elbows deep into the bag containing the purchases of the inpromtump ‘shopping’ trip while the other hand organized – or threw right back into the bag – whatever had made it into the table. The redhead looked all too happy to ignore everyone and their mother until he was done. This included their lovely waitress.

At some point, Danny had given up and ended up ordering for Wes when the woman started to look closer and closer to violence after the fifth time she had returned to the table only for the redhead to mutter nonsense under his breath instead of being a functional human being.

Wes’s carrot cake had been all but ignored after it was brought over to what little space of table they had still disponible, and as Wes stopped his search to take a deep breath, it didn’t seem like the poor thing would get the attention it deserved anytime soon.

“It’s” Wes didn’t really like him using that word, did he? He was visibly steeling himself before continuing. Or maybe he was just trying to make a point. Could be both, too. Who knows- “ a cake. ”

“Oh, you soul of the party , you . ” Danny tossed another chunk of his own cake into his mouth as Wes flipped him off and continued his search in the seemingly bottomless bag.

Wes had gotten it from a random dude back in their shopping spree. He had gotten two, actually, but he had thrown one at Danny because ‘you don’t get to mess around with mine, Fenton. Don’t even try it.’ Like that would be enough to stop the halfa if he really wanted to grab the thing.

Danny’s own seemingly new bag-sack-whatever-it’s-name-was was currently resting on his lap, still tied to one of his belt loops and being happily ignored in favor of the cake — each bite tasted different . It. was. Nice . — He would be completely amazed with the little sacks if he hadn’t been a front row seat witness to Pandora’s Box shenanigans thanks to the Box Ghost.

As it was, the cake was taking the lead in making it into his Top Twenty favorite magic things.

Which didn’t have more than two or three items yet, but Danny was convinced this cake was at its absolute peak and would continue to be so for a long, looong time.

“You know, when you said shopping this isn’t what came to mind, honestly.” making motions around with his fork to illustrate his point, Wes didn’t seem to appreciate his effort by the look he was sending him, but he wasn’t about to stop. “ That wasn’t shopping to me.”

“It was”

“Carrot-cakes I have been submitted to ‘shopping’ by a lot of people- Sam, Sam’s mom, my mom, the fruit loop,” at this point he couldn’t help but shudder as he reminisced that particular experience “and that weird failure in the matrix when Paulina and Star attacked me last semester. I think I would know-”

“It was!”

“Haggling, exchanging of goods, trading of seemingly-random-value things or info, I don’t care which one, but that would be a more appropriate description.”

“As I said. Shopping.”

“Oh yeah? Let me repeat some of those so you understand what would happen if you said that to them.” Danny sent him a look before driving the point home. “ Sam 's mom. Vlad. Pauli- ”

“Ok stop.”

“I have emotional scars, Wes-”

“I said stop!”

Wes took a pair of deep breaths to keep himself from murder – and from the horrifying idea of experiencing some of those ‘shoping’ trips Fenton brought to mind, ugh –, Danny decided to give him an out before it escalated beyond his control.

“Why not buy these things back home? aren’t there magic shenanigans going on there too because that sounds likely considering history and all that.”

He saw Wes mouth ‘history’ with a confused twist to his expression and Danny promptly replied with “Salem” at which Wes just cringed and rolled his eyes before promptly discarding the subject.

Danny hadn’t been as- ..sensible, to death since his accident. Wes and everyone else in Amity Park had grown in their understanding of it too, but not nearly at the same degree as a literal halfa could achieve. Maybe. It’s not like Danny went around asking, after all. He might not get twitchy about most things involving mortality nowadays but the inherent awkwardness that it could awaken in human interaction still felt like a punch to the gut. So he didn’t and from Wes’s facial expression he could tell that maybe it was a decision they shared.

“There are things in the US, yes, but there are some specific things that you can only get in certain places, and when you are at the other side of the ocean from those things they tend to get more expensive so I might as well take advantage while I can.” Wes offered, maybe in hopes that Danny would not poke sleeping dragons either.

“Ok, that I can understand but what’s the deal with the school-? Don’t make that face at me, I’m here because of you schooling rights or something-”

“Schooling rights my ass! They just want to be a bunch of controlling little- UGH! Yes there are many magic schools back home too. happy now?”

“Barely, What’s the deal then?” Danny allowed a moment in case the other was trying to come up with a particularly detailed response, but at the cagey behaviour and continued shuffling of things in the bags the halfa decided to remind the redhead of an important fact in this situation “Weeeees~,I’m already here, with you, there are no ghosts around whatsoever. I can annoy you into answering aaaall daaay-”

finally he relented.

“I can't study in the US”

Apparently keeping quiet until the other party was awkwardly pushed into revealing more info on their own didn’t work when the other party was a stubborn Wesley Weston.

“Why?”

“…”

Ok, the lack of response was actually pretty telling this time.

“Oh my ancients- What did you do ?“ Danny didn’t lean over the table at first because he feared the slightest movement would topple a bunch of random stuff right onto the floor. Then he remembered they were in magic zone sabbatical and as long as he or wes didn’t make a big deal about it, his intangibility could be taken like the result of a spell or maybe a little trinket. So no, there was nothing stopping him from leaning over the table and whispering for the figurative spilling of tea, nothing other than Wes’s grumpiness but that had only ever helped to encourage Danny before, so-

A low murmur in response before Wes huffed “I tried it my way and they couldn't take it, big deal.”

Oh. “..you got into fights with everyone and their cousins, didn't you?”

“Is it my fault they are blind to the truth?!” Danny, inevitably, cackled and some – if not most – of the other customers turned in their direction with even more weirded out looks because how dare they make annoyingly-happy teen noises when everyone else in the place clearly were a bunch of stuck up assholes, oh sir no “Shut up!”

Danny would love to say he tried to reign himself in- ok, no, he really wouldn’t. Honestly, the thing that made him stop was the sight of something he had seen before – way too many times – in Amity Park poking from the little mounds of trinkets on the table.

“Wait, these are-” the more Danny poked around, more things highlighted themselves to his notice, yeah, he had seen some of them before, because- “dude, are you the person who’s been supplying Sam ?”

At Wes’s reluctant nod and the following attempts to get Danny to stop grabbing the damn things you're messing up my sistem, Fenton.

“Uh,I knew there had to be a reason for her to stop calling for your blood.” At that, Weston stopped trying to fight Danny’s grabby hands in favor of shooting a Wary Look ™ in his direction.

“She what”

“She wasn't happy with you after the GIW thing”

“Ah, that .” Wes cringed, clearly reminiscing on the mistakes of his past and the risks – for everyone, really – they had posed. “I suppose that’s fair..”

Weston continued murmuring utter nonsense under his breath and Danny took advantage of his distraction in the face of how near he had been to Torture-A-La-Manson. He started checking some of the things Wes had put on the table and also some that peaked through the bag on his lap.

‘What’s this-’ Something small but particularly detailed and shiny caught his eye. It was a ring. A silver ring. The stone in it was a pretty nice shade of blue and the cuts etched onto it made the light catch in certain places. As he brought it closer to his face for a closer examination – and to get properly lost in the small light game inside whenever he moved it, it seemed almost alive , it was so cool, oh god, his Magpie instincts were taking over ugh –

“Hey Wes,” Once the other boy’s attention was back on him he decided to barrel on before Wes could get on with his complaining “did you even bother to ask what any of these things were or did before putting your sticky fingers all over them?” and then decided to continue his poking just in case it wasn't enough, just to make sure to get answers. He smiled at Wes, “Of course not. What the hell was I even thinking-”

Wes spluttered in indignation, as expected, and started explaining his reasoning, facts and backgrounds of whatever was closer. Danny pointedly waved the ring in front of his face so he could latch onto it already and be done with it. The halfa could cajole him into explaining everything else later, the shiny thing was priority right now.

As Wes started going about his plan of reselling some of the things he got, including the rings . The use of the plural making Danny finally notice that, yes, there was more than one of these rings sitting right there , but none of them seemed to be quite as eye-catching to him as this one. For some reason .

“They’re a lot like those ‘reflect your emotions by their color’ sort of rings. The difference being that these are supposed to ‘help you find your way’ or ‘light your path’ or whatever that even means .” The amount of unsolicited eye rolling was monumental here, “Personally, I have never seen one of these things work as they promise to, but people still seem to love them, for whatever reason” here he shot a look in Danny's direction before continuing with his explanation. The insinuation was pretty loud and clear, considering the current situation.

The halfa didn’t care.

So he just snorted at Wes’ judgemental tone, and took the executive decision to put the ring on, just because he could-

-and It lit the fuck up .

“-supposed to resonate with- ..the soul.” Wes froze, Danny froze too, because the thing was almost glowing in Danny’s hand.

A thin, shimmering, string of blue light shooting out of the stone, into the distance, and eventually disappearing from eye sight. The thing honest to god looked like the one in Howl's moving castle, and holy- FUCK. He gets lost in the zone so often- if this thing remotely works as Wes said then it’s going to be Danny’s best and worst friend from now on depending on the small print , he can just tell -

Meanwhile, Wes was still short circuiting.

“It’s not supposed to- '' He snatched one of the rings still on the table to put it on to absolutely no effect, to both their disappointment. He took it off, not bothering to look where he tossed it as long as it was still on the table, and then looked at the halfa’s ring fixedly before making a grab for it, not even stopping to contemplate the other rings on the table for the moment. Danny tried to dodge but Wes was aiming for the capture of the whole limb and not just the ring, as he had first thought.

Danny allowed it in the end because, honestly? He was curious too. And when it came to magic the other teen was supposed to be the expert here, so-

Wes did try to take the ring off Danny but at the first sign of the light going off when he slipped it off the finger he quickly put it back on. The light kept merely going at it and the redhead seemed a minute away from going supernova because of it, bringing it closer to his face, like maybe it would make more sense or stop doing random light shows if he inspected it in close quarters.

Wes huffed,brow furrowed in concentration while his eyes scanned it.

“I suppose being a half dead monstrosity would affect the results, wouldn’t it..”

Well, that was just rude .

“You wanna go, Wes?” He saw Wes rear up – the hand with the ring still firmly clutched between his and with apparently no intention of letting go – and smiled, as fun as it was making him mad enough for his face to match his hair, Danny didn’t feel like it right now. He felt more like exploring . “Not fight , Weston. Not yet. And we always do that anyway- I meant this .” He deliberately shifted the hand on the redhead’s grip, trying to make him think of the possibilities of an apparently functional path/way finder or whatever it ended up being.

“It could be nothing.” The redhead tried to object, weakly even to his own ears. “To waste time on these things- It’s not advisable..” and yet he still was boring his eyes into the ring, turning around on his seat to stare at the string of light for a minute just to go back to manhandling danny’s fingers – his entire arm at some point, too – for a better look.

“Are you implying we have something better to do? Cause I don’t see it Wes.” Danny poked him with his free hand, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t need much to get the conspiracy theorist nutjob into it. It never took too much to get Wes fire up in general. “Weeeees”

The redhead tried to hide the smile, he really did – Danny would know by now –, but his eyes still shone with delight .

‘Hook, line and sinker.’

As Wes got lost in his imagination and planning, as he did, Danny allowed himself a mischievous smirk while the other remained distracted and then finished his cake.

If the other had seen that particular smile he would have been wary of what would come in their near future, as it was, he was still day-draming about possible discoveries to be made. The wizards and witches in the shop just didn’t know better, and thus had no idea why a sudden cold shiver went down their spines.

The poor things.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, -

NOTES:

Best motivation to read theory (text??) books, even if they are about magical nonsense: spite. Pure spite.

Spite is a good motivation for way too many things actually, which is awesome, I need that motivation juice, baby- -.-.-.- Hufflepuffs are good at finding stuff, but are they good at ‘being’ the stuff found?? Asking the real questions here. Possible answers in the next chapters, if I don’t regret the plot I have been making, lmao -.-.-.-

I love ghibli. And Danny. And redheads. They are so damn pretty, like DAMN.

If you are a redhead I want you to know that I recognize your awesomeness.

If you are Holland Roden I want you to know I love and worship u, gurl ❤️

If you are a fellow worshipper then greetings, my friend, let us kneel together 🖖 -.-.-.- this is like the third time I have professed my love for redheads in the notes. Send help- -.-.-.- or a redhead -.-.-.- ok, no. -.-.-.- Unless *-* -.-.-.- Headcanon for fic just dropped: Honestly, Danny just loves his havoc, he is very much like his fellow ghosts in that matter even if he denies it to anyone and their mother. The difference is that his type of Chaotic Vibe ™ doesn’t normally result in anything worse than people being very pissed off afterwards, and to be honest, most of them deserved it, so-

Whatever. -.-.-.-

You know, now that I think about it I should have known I had a thing for redheads after being obsessed with the Ariel from the little mermaid, and ‘Roberta’ from the RBD novel, and then MJ, and all those fire starters and- Well. It seemS a little silly now, that's all.

#my fic #ao3 #fanfic #crossover #danny phantom #wes weston #danny fenton #harry potter #dp&hp #ILGYG

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 3 years

Text

hi enjoy this random snippet of a sad ysijwa extra that has to do with Niall coming over to Harry’s place one night when he’s feeling particularly emotional about missing his family

///

They sit in silence for a while on Harry’s elegant couch, listening to his record player churn out songs from an era long lost, the music notes duller than usual. The duo takes turns drinking from the bottle of bourbon, which Niall had fetched from his cabinet before wandering down to Harry’s flat, staring out at the city with all its twinkling lights coming from surrounding buildings and the traffic down below.

Niall speaks first, his voice low and heavy and thick from the alcohol, which is so unlike him since his accent is usually so airy and full of joy. “I miss them, H.”

Harry takes a long swig from the bottle, his mother’s opal ring clacking against the glass. The small stone feels like a metal barbell on his finger, as it always does whenever he gets in such a somber headspace. He extends the glass container towards Niall, his face remaining neutral as he watches a car run a red light, a chorus of angry honking and distant yelling following the risky move.

His voice is just as dense as Niall’s. “I do, too.”

His friend takes the bourbon, setting it on his knee and studying the amber liquid hollowly, watching it swish around along the sides of the bottle. “I miss my sisters.”

Harry exhales slowly, a prickling sensation washing across the backs of his eyes. “I miss mine, too. And my parents.”

His eyes slide over to the liquor in Niall’s possession, an ancient memory surfacing in the murky fog in his mind, clearing its way through the clouds created by the liquid in his system. The burning in his eyes gradually funnels towards his sinuses, making his nose sting with longing dread as he recalls his past. “Bourbon was my dad’s favorite.”

Niall looks over at him with sympathetic curiosity reflecting across his dim eyes. The icy blue that is usually present has faded away, replaced by a sad grey that Harry rarely ever witnesses. Over the years, Niall and Harry have come to an unspoken agreement that whenever they are hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia and pain regarding the people they had lost, the person they will come to for comfort will always be each other. Despite the fact that the lives they had led back in the 19th century were somewhat different, they can both relate to the notion of having been the head of their respective families, both emotionally and literally, and it’s a commonality that all of their other friends are lucky enough not to share. They were both the sole, eldest sons bared by their parents, which meant the weight of their loved ones’ futures had rested on their shoulders alone.

Niall was the main father figure for all his sisters growing up, considering their actual father was constantly slaving away in the fields of their farm, breaking his back in order to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. He and his mother raised his siblings to be as strong and independent as they could, since one day they would be married and have to take care of a household of their own. Niall was meant to take over the family farm when the time came, and pave his own route to a brighter future where he would have a wife and children to help him get by. When the famine worsened, all of their dreams crumbled to dust right along with their only means to survival, and Niall sacrificed his own rations and well-being towards his sisters in an effort to aid them in making it out alive. It was a futile attempt, unfortunately, since malnutrition weakened their immune systems and left them vulnerable to diseases that very few women ever survived. In the end, he and everyone he cared for died due to the terrible conditions set upon them by the famine, and all of his life’s work perished right along with his beating heart.

When it came to Harry, his story of being the leading man of his family was almost just as tragic. He was set to inherit his father’s blacksmith business, which was the only source of income his family had ever known, and since owning the shop would be vital to his success in society, he sacrificed his youth in preparation for the responsibility that would be set on his shoulders once he came of age. He very rarely allowed himself any free time to relax or intermingle with people of his own age, which resulted in his stunted social skills and lack of romantic suitors. He was nearly thirty when he finally began looking for a lifelong partner, at his mother’s concerned behest, and the one he found turned out to be the first and last he’d ever have in a manner he never expected. With his disappearance from the family lineage, all of the obligations he’d carried were passed on to his sister instead, which was a burden he had hoped she’d never have to bear. Ownership of the business shifted to Gemma’s husband, and though it was saved from being abandoned, it no longer belonged to the people who founded it, and the sentimentality behind its creation was therefore lost to a great extent.

In the end, both young men felt like they had failed the people they loved the most, and they never got to say a proper goodbye before being torn away by a cruel reality neither had asked for.

No matter how many times they’ve been in this same position, Harry will never get used to seeing this dampened version of the lively Irishmen. It’s like he’s looking at a shell of the person he so well knows, hollowed out by the debt of the people and connections he left behind. It feels like he’s looking at the corpse his friend was meant to be.

“He always managed to get a bottle around Christmas time.” Harry continues, his sight still trained on the bottle in his friend’s grasp, as if he can see the clips from his past replaying across the reflective surface of the beverage inside. The edges of his lips twitch as a happier recollection dawns on him, the dark circles around his eyes seeming to sink deeper into his skin as fond melancholy settles across his features. “I remember the first drink I ever had was bourbon, actually. It was at a Christmas ball the town was holding, and it was open to the general public. My dad pulled me aside and offered it to me; told me not to tell mum or that she’d skin him alive. I was fourteen.”

Harry releases a tight laugh, his vision growing blurry with tears. “He said he’d had his first drink with his dad, as well, and that he wanted to uphold the tradition.”

“How was it?” Niall murmurs gently, his tone encouraging instead of prying. He wants to guide Harry through his feelings, just as Harry always does with him.

Harry’s chapped lips crack into a full smile now, another strained laugh vibrating in his chest. “It was fucking rank. I spit it out the second it touched my tongue and nearly threw up my dinner.”

Niall joins his friend in laughing, instilling some much needed humor into the dark ambiance of the room. “Pussy.”

“I’d never drank before!” Harry defends, giving him a flat scowl. “And bourbon is a pretty brutal alcohol to lose your liquor virginity to.”

“I suppose. Still doesn’t change the fact that you were a sissy.”

The vampire narrows his eyes pettily. “How old were you when you had your first drink, then?”

Niall squares his shoulders proudly, puffing out his chest a tad as he answers the question haughtily. “Twelve. It was scotch, and I downed it like a fucking champ.”

“And now you’re a raging twat with severe alcoholic tendencies. A lot of good that did you, huh?”

“At least I didn’t embarrass myself in front of all the girls at that ball. No wonder you didn’t get laid.”

“I was waiting for marriage!”

“Tell that to the psychotic blonde with nice tits and murderous intentions.”

Harry snorts, kicking one foot off his coffee table and shoving Niall’s knee with the heel of his boot. “Piss off.”

The pair remain quiet for a moment, the comical atmosphere gradually fading away. With a shaky breath, Harry continues his story.

“Dad said it was okay. He said he’d reacted the same way, and that I would eventually develop a taste for it the older I got. He said that one day, he wanted me to—” His voice cracks with sudden emotion, and he sniffles roughly to get himself back in order. But despite his best efforts, he can’t stop his accent from quivering as he lets out his next sentence, the words sour and painful on his tongue. “He said that one day, he hoped I would do the same with my own son.”

#ysijwa!blurb #payne!!

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bluboothalassophile · 3 years

Note

can you please write some jayrae angst i beg you ty if you do

Hello,

Can we stop asking me for angst? Please? Not that I don't like angst, but I'm not feeling angsty? So... please? Anyways, here you go.

Ungrateful Shite...

Jason stood in the hospital, looking at Raven as she lay there, hooked up to a thousand machines it looked like, and she was being made to breath by a vent. It was unnatural.

He knew every breath she took, he knew every sigh, groan, moan, every whisper and murmur, nothing about her was rhythmic, or forced. Nothing. Raven was a woman who was a force, she no longer permitted others to force her to do things. But this machine robbed her of even that autonomy. Carefully Jason walked forward into the room, unsure of what to say or do. He hadn’t been there when she had been fighting off interdimensional demons protecting that stupid witch kid, Tim Hunter or whatever the wannabe Harry Potter kid’s name was.

Jason didn’t care, he wanted to throttle the kid, no, Jason wanted to shoot the ungrateful bastard in the fucking face; with a .45; really make a permanent kind of hole. Then Jason was going to string up the kid’s body as target practice. The fucking bastard had had the audacity to be an ungrateful little shite after Raven had saved his fucking worthless life.

Now Jason stared at his lover, the only woman who had had loved, and she was hooked up to so many machines he could barely identify her. There wasn’t much which could hurt Rae, but what could did do a lot of damage. So much damage that no one in the league was even willing to attest to if she would survive; they wouldn’t tell him her odds. No one would even breathe about her chances, it was like a state secret, and that had him livid. He really wanted to strangle the doctors with their precious computer cords for ignoring him, or reciting HIPAA at him whenever he just asked about her odds.

No one really knew about what Raven meant to him. He hadn’t told anyone, ever, because he was a Bat and everyone knew Bats didn’t fall in love. And worse, Jason wasn’t just any Bat, he was the Red Hood; he was the irredeemable monster of the Bats, he was the rabid one, the one they all knew to fear, to be wary of, to be scared of. It was difficult for Jason to care though about his reputation to the League or heroes of the world, they all thought he was scum; they all favored his family; B, Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass; everyone fucking loved Cass; Kate (who was far more psychotic than he could ever be!), and Babs. And because they all favored Jay’s family, that left them siding with Jay’s family and thinking he was the scum of the earth.

All of them but Raven.

Fuck!

People didn’t get it, didn’t get what that little bird had done when she had invited him into her life, offered her friendship with nothing in return, offered him kindness when he could give nothing but cruelty, given him compassion and empathy when he had nothing to return for her. He had fallen for her, fallen hard for Raven. He hadn’t told her, because she definitely deserved better than a broken man, but he loved her with everything he had and whatever there was left to spare.

Jason frowned when someone came up beside him, and he glared at the menace who had been the reason his little bird was torn up and broken beyond repair right now.

Tim fixed his glasses and looked at Raven.

“I’m surprised they kept her alive.”

“She saved your unworthy ass, so be very careful with what you say next,” Jason growled lowly.

The kid huffed a superior breath as he glared at Jason, but Jason saw the kid flinch. “She’s just a demon---”

Jason felt the glass crack as he grabbed the kid by the throat, slamming him into the glass with an iron grip; he could feel the Pit bubbling wildly close to the surface and knew his eyes were glowing as he curled back his lip in a feral snarl.

“Let me be very clear, you ungrateful little shit,” he growled, the kid clawed at Jason’s hand, gasping for air as his eyes widened in fear. “That demon is more human and possess more humanity than you could ever comprehend. Second, the only thing which keeps me from tearing out your throat at this point is the very fact she is like this because she was keeping your unworthy life alive, which means I cannot undo her hard work. Third, and this will be the most important, if I ever see you again, I’ll damn her hard work to keep you alive and tear your worthless spine out through your esophagus and use it as a jumping rope. Get out of my sight, and get away from the demon.”

Jason tossed the kid to the ground before he stalked into Raven’s room. He paid the kid no more mind as he looked at Raven. She didn’t rouse, even slightly, machines keeping her body functioning and alive.

“Hey little bird,” he murmured as he picked up the book he’d been reading to her every day since she’d come to the Watch Tower. “Where were we?”

He didn’t expect a response from her, he knew she wouldn’t rouse anytime soon, if at all, but until she did, he was going to wait. He started reading The Charterhouse of Parma to her.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Dick stared at his brother in disbelief. He hadn’t even known Jason and Raven were friends, she hadn’t talked about it. But Dick couldn’t blame her, they all sort of made it so Jason wouldn’t be worthy of her friendship or time. It wasn’t right, or fair, and Dick hadn’t even noticed they all did it so often until this incident.

Jason was the first to Raven’s side, and he was the most frequent with Victor. Victor had actually clobbered them for saying Jason shouldn’t be there, and recently Jason was proving why he should be the only one here. He came daily, a book in hand and a soft tone to read to her. He hadn’t missed a day, and he hadn’t skipped a patrol, he hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about it, and Dick had seen how much it mattered to Jason. Still, Jason was his ruthless, fair self; he gave no more and took no less than he would for any other patrol, and he said nothing about what was going through his head.

Dick didn’t know what to make of this, or how to repair the damage done to Jason and to Raven already.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #jason todd #raven #dick grayson #jayrae #redrae #raex

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toujourspur13 · 3 years

Text

The Black family / Walburga Black / canon.

As I said before I do not care that much about canon/fanon/headcanon because transformative works by definition include a wide variety of different interpretations. However, I am forever perplexed when I see uncompromising opinions on the Black family - particularly the unwavering certainty that Sirius Black’s parents were psychotic abusers. All personal opinions aside - why is this so popular?

I mean - it’s absolutely ok to headcanon this version and to play with it - but saying 'don’t you dare say they did not physically and emotionally abuse Sirius' is a little strong, isn’t it?

This is a mystery to me. So…let’s discuss my favourite subject…Again.

Let’s stick to the facts. The frequently cited things proving the abuse in the Black family are as follows:

Sirius said his parents were awful maniacs (pureblood ideology)

he ran away from home

he was severely depressed in OoTP

Kreacher

Portrait

So…when you say that Sirius’s parents were abusive…you mean exactly what? These people got cold feet when they saw the real nature of Voldemort - I guess it somehow implies that they did not share his methods…that they were against violence as a tool to get purebloods in charge.

But then it usually goes this way: ‘well at least he was verbally and emotionally abused by his family’ - but is it so? Is this based on the portrait of Sirius's mother? She insulted strangers who took over her house and her runaway son - how does this prove anything about how Sirius and Regulus were raised and treated when they were kids? I agree it’s rather impolite - jkr did a good job showing how purebloods perceived others ( those below them) -but in all honesty, this has very little to do with Sirius and his childhood.

Why to make Sirius a victim at all? - c’mon he was tougher than this, he spent 12 years in Azkaban; are you actually saying that a portrait throwing insults at everyone is worse? I doubt that. And is it such a surprise that a mother who lost her son (that said son actually ran away and abandoned his duty) would be that furious at him when seeing him again...even if it’s only a portrait...I believe it to be a rather unpleasant experience for a parent when a child runs away.

We already talked about the portrait a lot - I don’t even want to mention it here- - I feel we should rather pay more attention to the fact that Sirius himself was not an angel.

I am not saying the colourful vocabulary of Walburga Black should be used…but Sirius himself upon seeing Snape immediately recognised his weakness and went for it without any hesitation …we are talking about Sirius who in fact was quite a renowned bully ( I mean - we know for a fact that from time to time Sirius and James got carried away)…

And it was Sirius who sent Snape to meet and chat with a real werewolf (yes, I agree - he was not thinking this through - he probably was just vexed and fed up with Snape and thought he wouldn’t go there, would get cold feet or idk run away…But it actually changes nothing. If a drunken driver hits someone it will be 100% his fault whether he means it or not. Whether he is in a fragile mental state or not - such situations are definite. It’s the same with Sirius - even if he did not mean anything bad he should have understood the cost of his mistake - all teenagers make silly things but not all of them send their classmate to meet a werewolf - James thought it not a very good idea as I recall… -

So we see that Sirius was not an angel from the start and I can hardly believe he was a victim by nature. His behaviour loudly manifested that he used to get what he wanted with no thought of the consequences.

And all those pictures of bikini-clad girls on the walls in his room prove that he was quite a spoiled boy who had nothing to fear from mum and dad. Harry himself noticed «Sirius seemed to have gone out of his way to annoy his parents». All this shows that Sirius was not afraid of his parents at all. What kind of masochist would suffer for motorbike posters? That would be ridiculous.

Let’s move to Kreacher: If Sirius’s mother had been a monster why even mention her heart? JKR wrote this for a purpose and this heavily implies that Sirius's situation was never meant to be ‘the abusive heartless parents vs the poor helpless victim’.

The fact that Sirius ran away and hence broke his mother’s heart says against the popular idea that he was not loved by his family, that he was always the second one, that they abused him. I’m 100% certain that Kreacher told the truth in that scene. Why would he say something like this if it were not the truth - something like…that his beloved mistress having been so upset over Sirius running away that it broke her heart. Just tell me one reason that would have justified such a lie - why to say this at all?

Then this: “Leave?” Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. “Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal … my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them … that’s him.”…. “He was younger than me,” said Sirius, “and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded.”

I’ve already said it before - this ‘better son than me’ is exactly what insecure 14-year old kids like to say. Well...he’s a bit older but it’s not as if he had a life and a chance to mature. Moreover, I don’t know if it comes as a great shock but a lot of teenagers like to badmouth their parents…usually, it involves something like ‘those bloody uptight retrogrades know nothing of the real world’ (it fades away when they get closer to thirty).

To be serious, I find that it’s just another example of similarities between Sirius and his mother. They clearly did not know what it means to be composed, polite, and respectful. Yeah…I think that, on the whole, parents are owed their children’s respect (unless they are completely inadequate - somehow I don’t believe this was the case). Someone should teach both of them what mutual respect means. Anyway, there is nothing in this quote that says that Sirius was subjected to any forms of abuse - it’s about how Sirius justified his running away, how he saw the situation.

There’s also the fact that Sirius was incredibly unhappy because he was back at his childhood home and having to spend time around anything that reminded him of his family: “Hasn’t anyone told you? This was my parents’ house,” said Sirius. “But I’m the last Black left, so it’s mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters — about the only useful thing I’ve been able to do.” Harry, who had expected a better welcome, noted how hard and bitter Sirius’s voice sounded”.

Here it comes…the severe depression that makes people question the severity of his abuse… I have thought a lot about this because it is the reason why some consider ‘the abusive blacks' canon while others believe it was more of a tragedy of the family rather than the banal brutality.

Of course, Sirius was upset in that house - but I don’t think he suffered the memories of his unhappy childhood - I think he suffered from the strong feeling of guilt. Being in that house meant an everyday reminder that he was a failure. And it’s not even a lie. If you look at his whole life you’ll see that he literally failed everyone in his life: he failed James and Lily - they were dead and he unwillingly became the reason. It was his plan that turned everything into a tragedy.

And, to some extent, he failed Harry- he was not around him like James and Lily would have wanted. Sirius did not give him the real family - he only promised they'd be the one «when it’s all over».

And finally - he failed his parents, his brother, his own family.

Is it possible to live with so much guilt in your heart?

I don't think that Sirius completely forgot who he was born to be. If the family keeps traditions and can trace its existence back in centuries you can't shake it off even if you want. I doubt Sirius switched it off just because he had griffindor friends. He was the last Black - it is tragically poetic that he was once the hope of his family and then this family died with him. If Sirius had heart (and I truly believe he had a heart) he knew exactly what it meant to be trapped in the house that represented the death of his family. A constant reminder that he was the last one.

“The others’ hushed voices were giving Harry an odd feeling of foreboding; it was as though they had just entered the house of a dying person”.

I think that the scene when he threw his father's ring away - he threw it away because it was all over for his family. It was the end of the dynasty - and for him it was all over long before he met Bellatrix for the last time.

Well, I admit Sirius' situation is open for wide interpretation but I don’t think the abusive black household is a canon thing - of course, it’s fanon. It makes Sirius a hero who broke the chains when in fact he ended up being a victim of his own life.

You know, it always seems strange to me that fandom when discussing Walburga usually overlooks the simple truth of life - that even if you are clever enough and mean good for your loved ones it is still possible to end up on the losing side, on the dark side. However, mistakes don't automatically turn humans into monsters.

To some extent Sirius’s story represents the consequences of war. No-one is protected; the whole families could be wiped off the face of the earth. It’s a simple yet profound idea. It correlates with the main idea of hp books far better than the ‘abusive psychopaths’ (there are already Voldemort and Bellatrix - there is no-one who can beat them in this department).

All I say - it’s okay to imagine them bad if you want- your right - but don’t write everywhere that it’s canon because it is not.There is no need for such inflexibility especially when it comes to the fandom - a place where everyone should be welcomed and their views on the books be respected.

#the noble and most ancient house of black #hp meta #harry potter #sirius black meta #walburga black #orion black #regulus black #harry potter meta #Order of the Phoenix #Sirius Black

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

Hidden (one shot)

Harry Potter AU

Request: Can I get a enemies to lovers story? Like Regulus actually liked her as a child but didn’t know what to do with it. If you can add smut to it too plz

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M: smut

Credit: Lyrics from Magic Man by Heart used

_______

"Never think of never let this spell last forever"

Your eyes fluttered open as the bedside clock struck seven. The chill of the room made you not even want to think of getting up. You stretched your leg out until you felt the warmth of the body beside you. Turning as gently as possible, you smiled at Regulus’ sleeping form. You couldn't help but smile at how innocent he looked sleeping.

There is nothing innocent about him.

Your mind supplied as you resisted the urge to stroke the bedridden curls out of his eyes. Regulus was never a morning person. You had learned this the hard way.

He will be just fine once I get my mouth on him.

You thought gleefully. It took every ounce of self-control that you had not to jump on him. This was what you did almost every morning for the past six months. Regulus was always snippy until he realized that you on top of him actually worked to his advantage.

Everything is about to change…

The negative thoughts seemed to rush in and chase the sweet fluffy feelings of the morning out. You slowly lay back down beside your lover wondering if this was going to be the last morning?

For the past six months, you had been hiding with Regulus. After you witnessed Evan Rosier commit a rather unfortunate murder, the death eater had a gone on a psychotic quest to end your life. Your older brother Remus, realizing that you were in a decent amount of danger, decided to hide you somewhere safe. It was Sirius that suggested sending you to Regulus. His own brother was laying low as it was. After deflecting from the death eaters, Regulus was keeping his “nose clean” and staying out of the way.

Remus was hesitant at first. You were against it. The last thing that you were going to do was go hideout with some boy that used to make your life hell as a child. You would rather go right up to Evan and give him a big “fuck you” to the face and beat the shit out of him. The last thing that you wanted to do was spend any amount of time with Regulus. Besides, since when was it Remus’ decision on what happened in your life? You were a big girl and was totally capable of making your own decisions.

“If you don’t go there is a good chance that you could be harmed. You know that I can’t guard you 24/7. Sirius is off on missions a lot. I’m sure Regulus has grown up. If he tries to pull your hair again just punch him. I know that you can do that.”

At the time Remus’ comment made you want to punch your own brother in the face. Of course, you would feel bad about it later but at the time Remus deserved it.

You finally agreed to stay with Regulus when Sirius begged you shamelessly. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, your “brother-in-law” had a soft place in your heart that not many people did. You had a soft spot for Sirius since the moment he told you how bad his life at home was and how he was only happy at school.

The first few weeks with Regulus was awkward. The boy that you remembered from school had one hell of a glow-up from graduation. It didn’t matter if it had been only a few months since the two of you had last seen each other...damn had he changed! Regulus was still on the slender side of things but he had grown his hair out and grown in height another inch or two. You found yourself staring at him over dinner every night wondering if he had always been this attractive? Fuck, he was attractive with that “Black family scowl” that resulted in him looking perpetually bored.

It was stupid to fall in love with Regulus. There was no way that your family would ever approve. They would take one look at the dark mark on his arm and automatically panic. It didn’t help that Regulus took no steps to keep it hidden. It was just part of who he was no and if someone didn’t like looking at it...oh fucking well.

Oh, shigity, I am in trouble.

That was the thought that plagued you for days. Anytime that you were near Regulus, you were mentally telling yourself to stop. You would be wasting your time. Regulus wouldn’t want some girl to tie him down. Why would he want you anyway?

It was Regulus that made the first move. It happened one night when you were peaking out of the curtain at the street below. There was some kind of festival going on and it was nice to see other humans again. Even if you couldn’t interact with them, seeing people doing “normal” things was nice.

You weren’t sure how long you had been watching the people below. When Regulus’ hand had closed on your wrist, you jumped away from the window like a child whose hand was caught in the cookie jar.

“Close the damn curtain. If people see in here we are both doomed.”

Regulus snapped. You frowned, wanting nothing more than to sass him. He had hardly spoken to you in weeks and you were getting sick of it. You didn’t expect him to have some long conversation but a word ever so often would be nice.

“Excuse the fuck out of me for wanting to see other humans.”

You hissed. Regulus had you against the wall before your mind was able to process what had happened.

“If you want to go out there and get killed by the death eaters in the crowd then go for it girl. I bet you didn’t see Dolohov or any of his henchmen out there, did you?”

You shook your head. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t think so. I told your brother that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I’m not going to. You might as well get over it.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t mind you? Pull my hair again? We aren’t in school anymore, Regulus.”

Regulus smirked at the mention of his previous behavior. He never picked on you to be an ass. Regulus had a ridiculous crush on you and had no clue what to do about it. He never had any great role models when it came to healthy relationships.

“Do you want me to pull your hair?”

The comment had left his mouth a little more sassy than he planned. You only blinked at him with wide doe eyes. Regulus didn’t care if you wanted to admit it or not but you were shocked with his words.

When you didn’t respond quickly enough for his liking Regulus reached down and kissed you...that was how it began. You wouldn’t admit to anyone, Remus especially, that after that sassy little exchange with Regulus something changed between the two of you. The line of annoyed childhood enemies who got under each other’s skin had been crossed forever.

You would forever smile at the memory of that night...your first time….

You lay between Regulus’ spread legs with your head on his chest. The both of you had finally given up after making love at least twice. Regulus’ fingers stroked a gentle path through your hair as the two of you working on getting your breathing back to normal.

“You didn’t tell me that it was your first time.”

He commented. You didn’t move to look up at him. At the moment, you simply wanted to enjoy listening to his heartbeat.

“You didn’t really ask.”

You replied. Regulus sighed.

“I feel like a dick..just so you know.”

You finally poked your head up and moved up enough to earn a groan from Regulus. His cock was trapped between your bodies and the friction was enough to make him want you all over again.

“I like it this way. I don’t need poetry and some romantic escapade for the first time.”

You said, pressing a small kiss to his lips. Regulus’ dark eyes were locked on your face before pulling your body back down against his.

“If that’s the way you want it.”

The next six months were a lot like the “first time.” You had started sleeping in Regulus’ bed and for lack of a better term playing “house.”

Today, however, was the changing point. Remus was supposed to be coming by with Sirius to pick you up, if things were “safe.” The last thing that you wanted to think about was leaving Regulus. I love you hadn’t been uttered by Regulus nor yourself but that didn’t mean that you weren’t thinking it. After month four, you were in the complete realization that you were in love with Regulus. You loved him but was afraid to admit it. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if I am just a plaything to him? Will I be able to live with that? Those were the questions that stopped you anytime that you came close to telling Regulus that you loved him.

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you leaned over and pressed a kiss to Regulus’ cheek. He groaned and squeezed his eyes closed tighter.

“Too early.”

He whined. You smiled and sat up.

“Where are you going?”

Regulus asked, upon realizing that you were getting out of bed.

“I’m going to make some tea.”

“I said it's too early. Lay back down and keep me warm.”

You reached out to gently stroke his head. Regulus sighed, cuddling down into the pillow a bit more.

“I’m thirsty. You’ll be fine for just a moment.”

You replied before getting out of bed. Pulling on the silk dressing gown that Regulus had torn off of you the night before, you turned back to your lover. His dark eyes were on you, watching every move.

“Come back.”

He ordered. You blew him a kiss before stepping out of the room. Regulus shook his head with a smile before the realization of what today was hit home.

Remus is coming to take her away.

Regulus automatically snarled at the thought. The last thing that he wanted was for you to leave him. He didn’t care what Remus said, unless Evan was dead, you had no business leaving. He didn’t want you to. For the first time in his life, Regulus had something of a love life...a healthy love life and he didn’t want to give that up.

Remus will never agree to Y/n being with me. He won’t accept it no matter what we have to say. I can say that I love her until I’m blue in the face but it won’t be good enough...wait, I love her? I do love her!

Regulus lay staring at the ceiling as the realization of his feelings finally became clear. He knew that he loved you before but didn’t want to accept it.

Its a fucking great time to be in love with her...she’s leaving today. Good job, Regulus.

He thought with a scowl before getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of abandoned pants. Regulus knew that there was no way that you would consider not going with your brother. You would never choose him over Remus.

I might as well enjoy what time that I have with her.

(meanwhile)

You stood in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil. The kitchen was colder than normal this particular morning. Shivering, you wished that you had put on a bit more clothing.

Regulus’ arms around your waist made you jump. He quickly lifted you onto the countertop. You didn’t fight Regulus as he pulled you against him by your thighs.

“You scared me.”

You said with a giggle as Regulus tugged at the belt of your dressing gown until the garment opened.

“You look like you are alright.”

Regulus replied with a cheeky smile. Wrapping your legs around his waist preserving the contact. You quickly pulled Regulus into a deep kiss. His mouth consumed yours as he pushed you further onto the counter. Regulus swiftly moved from kissing your lips to making a path down your neck. Your eyes closed in ecstasy as he sucked a new love bite onto your skin. Lolling your head to the side, you wanted nothing more than to give Regulus better access to your tender flesh. Between your new kink for love bites and when he would bite down during making out; it was no wonder that your neck was bruised up most of the time. As soon as one love bite would heal, Regulus would give you another one. You wanted to think that this was his way of saying, “you’re mine.”

“Shall we go back to bed?”

You managed to say. Regulus shook his head as he tugged the dainty silk dressing gown off of your shoulders. The way that you laying with your head back made your breasts look fuller than they already were and Regulus was not about to lose this visual.

“No...right here.”

His words were curt and short. Regulus wanted to make damn sure that you knew that he wanted you here and this was where it was going to happen. Returning his mouth back to your neck for a moment, he placed a sweet chaste kiss on the forming bruise on your neck. His attention then went to your breasts. He started a tortuously slow attack on them. Nipping at the plump flesh, Regulus took his time with each and every inch of your soft breasts. Regulus’ hand squeezed the other breast greedily.

“You’re so greedy.”

You moaned earning a small smile from Regulus.

“Just greedy for you, darling.”

Regulus replied as he gave you a devious little smirk before spreading your legs wider. Kneeling down, Regulus kissed a path over your hip bone to your thigh. He was pleased when you whined his name.

“Reggie, please.”

Regulus gave you a wink before nuzzling your thigh.

“Such a sweet little love.”

Regulus said, placing a chaste kiss to your mound. You were dying to Regulus to use that talented tongue of his to make you come. At the moment, you were dying to come.

“Regulus…”

You were silenced when he put a finger to your lips.

“Hush now.”

Regulus said gently as he went back to kissing and nuzzling your thighs. Every little sigh of desire made drove Regulus further and further.

Damn it, I love her. I can’t let her go...I need her.

Regulus had to shove the unfamiliar thoughts of love on the back burner. If this was the last time that the two of you would “be together” he didn’t want to spend it being depressed over the realization that you would soon be gone from his life.

Spreading your legs a bit more, he looked up at you. Your eyes met as he took his tongue along your slit. Sighing, your head fell back as Regulus lavished his attention on your clit.

“Reggie...darling…”

You wanted to tell him that you loved him but you stopped. Now wasn’t the time to tell him that you loved him. Saying “I love you” with your boyfriend eating you out probably wasn’t the best time. Regulus probably wouldn’t take it very seriously.

Regulus stopped abruptly. He didn’t want to wait anymore. At the moment, he wanted what was his...possibly for the last time.

Pushing his pants down, Regulus kicked them to the side before pushing in. You gasped at the sudden fullness as Regulus pressed in balls deep.

“Feel nice?”

Regulus questioned as he started a slow rhythm which already had your legs trembling. His hands clutched your thighs, enjoying the feeling of your shaking thighs.

“Always.”

You said as your eyes closed.

“No, look at me.”

Regulus ordered. Your eyes immediately opened watching as Reguls bit his bottom lip. His dark eyes were locked on you as you looked over his body. You had to hold back a sigh as you watched the muscles in his stomach tense with each thrust.

My prince charming…

You couldn’t help smiling at the thought. Regulus gave you a small smile as if he could read your thoughts. Had he actually been able to, Regulus would have known how much actually loved him.

“Focus, love.”

Regulus groaned. Your breathing increased and your back arched. Regulus knew that your release was quickly coming. It wouldn’t take much for Regulus to get multiple releases out of you.

You cried out as your first orgasm flowed through you. Regulus pushed in balls deep against to pull you into a deep kiss.

“Come on. I know you can be louder than that. I want to hear you.”

Regulus normally cast a silencing charm when the two of you made love. He wanted to make sure that the two of you were being safe. The less that the neighbors heard the better. Regulus made sure that the neighbors knew next to nothing about neither of you. To them, the young couple next door was secretive and secluded...Regulus wanted to keep it that way.

Today, however, desperation won out over carefulness. Regulus had left his wand upstairs in his haste to get to you.

“Time to really make you come.”

Regulus wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you into his arms. You expected Regulus to carry you to the couch. The two of you had made love there many times over the past few months. To your surprise, Regulus gently laid you down on the cold stone kitchen floor. He grabbed your dressing gown and balled it up to shove under your head.

“Spread your legs. Give me what’s mine.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Regulus took his place between your legs and filled you again to resume his pace. From his position, Regulus had the best vantage point. Between watching your breasts bounce with each thrust to watching his cock fill your pussy; Regulus knew that he wouldn’t be lasting long at all.

“Close”

That was all that you could say as Regulus quickly picked up his pace until you threw your arms around his shoulders.

“Yes, that feels great, sugar.”

Regulus purred as you came apart underneath him. He pumped into you a few more times. You cried out the moment that you felt his cock pulse and the sudden warmth fill you.

The two of you didn’t even get to enjoy the afterglow due to someone knocking on the door. Regulus quickly stood up and pulled you back to your feet.

“He’s early.”

Regulus said as you gathered up your dressing gown. You knew that this should be the time that you told Regulus that you didn’t want to leave him but you couldn’t speak.

“Hurry and get upstairs.”

Regulus snapped. He was quickly becoming the cold boy that you had met on the first day. Your lover was on the backburner. Doing as you were told you hurried upstairs and left Regulus to quickly redress in the kitchen.

“I’m coming, Lupin.”

Regulus snapped as he buttoned his shirt. Opening the door, both Sirius and Remus stood on the other side. Sirius smirked at his younger brother’s disheveled appearance. This was certainly different from the normally well put together boy that Sirius was used to. He never saw Regulus looking this sloppy.

“Burning the candle at both ends, Reg?”

Regulus rolled his eyes and moved aside to let Sirius and Remus come inside.

“I just woke up, Sirius.”

You walking downstairs stopped the conversation. Remus smiled seeing you for the first time in 6 months. This had been the longest that he had ever gone without seeing his sister and he was more than excited to get you back home.

“Y/n, it's good to see you. I’ve missed you.”

You quickly hugged your brother. Saying that you weren’t happy to see Remus would have been a lie. You missed your older brother fiercely since the day he left you in Regulus’ care. You just didn’t want to leave with him.

“I’ve missed you too, Remus. It's good to see you.”

Remus patted your face and handed you off to Sirius who hugged you as if he hadn’t seen you in 20 years. Turning back to Regulus, Remus could see a strange expression of what looked like regret in the other man’s eyes.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Regulus.”

Regulus nodded but didn’t speak. Remus turned back to you with a smile.

“We should get going.”

You quickly turned to Regulus as if begging him to say something. Was this really going to be goodbye? Did Regulus expect you to just walk away as if nothing had been going on between the two of you?

“Remus...I….”

You started. Remus frowned, tilting his head. He could see that you were struggling with something. Remus wasn’t sure what it was. Were you afraid that you would still be in danger? That would be the case and you no longer had nothing to worry about. Evan had been killed by Moody. You could come home and be comfortable.

“Everything is fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

Remus gently wrapped his hand around yours to pull you along. You looked over your shoulder to Regulus. He quickly moved from his stagnant position.

“Y/n, wait.”

You turned around to face Regulus. He quickly shoved his way between Remus and yourself.

“I don’t want to go.”

You quickly said, ignoring how Sirius and Remus would look at each other. Regulus was totally ignoring Remus and his own brother. If they wanted to sit and listen to this conversation then they could have at it.

“I don’t want you to either. I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth dropped. This was everything that you wanted to hear. Regulus did have feelings for you! It wasn’t just a physical affair.

“I love you too.”

You replied before turning to face your brother. Remus looked completely stunned.

“I love him, Remus and I don’t want to go with you. I’ll always be your sister and you can come to see me anytime that you like but I want to be with Regulus.”

You waited for Remus to object, to say something about Regulus being a death eater...anything to try to stop you from wanting to stay. Remus, meanwhile, smiled.

“How long has this little affair been going on?”

“6 months.”

You answered. Remus looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Well, I wish you would have written to me. I could have saved myself a trip.”

You were totally stunned by your brother’s comment. Sirius looked equally as stunned. He hadn’t said anything since Regulus said “I love you.”

“You’re not going to throw a tantrum?”

You questioned as Regulus wrapped his arms around you from behind. This was his ultimate test. If Remus didn’t freak out over Regulus touching you in front of him then maybe there was some actual hope.

Remus shrugged.

“I knew that you would fall in love with someone sometime. If you need anything, you know how to get a hold of me.”

Remus patted your cheek before dragging a still clearly stunned Sirius (who was muttering about his brother and remus’ sister liking each other) along with him. Regulus turned to look at you with a small smile. This was the last thing that he had expected to happen. He had expected you to go with Remus. You would be happy with your brother and friends while Regulus was alone. He would spend the next, God only knew how long, morning your loss.

Now, however, everything was different. You had chosen him. Regulus had finally been chosen first. He wasn’t the one who was always forgotten about anymore.

“I didn’t think that you would choose me.”

Regulus commented as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. For once, Regulus Black was getting the girl.

“I’ve wanted to tell you that I loved you for a long time. I just didn’t think…”

Regulus gently put a finger on your lips.

“We can both be happy, for once.”

He leaned down for a sweet kiss. This was the first kiss as an actual couple and you couldn’t be happier.

“Just so you know, I have been happy this whole time.”

_______

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