um okay hi, just real quick before my heart like explodes outta my chest - so for a really long time now I've been trying to figure out my pronouns and gender identity and stuff, and just recently I've kind of "decided"? I guess? I'm not going to label myself quite yet but I just wanted to make it known that
they/them pronouns are preferred, so if you all could just keep that in mind ,,, that would be awesome. also, I've been trying to figure out a new gender neutral name/nickname so if you have any suggestions, drop them, I guess? you don't have to, just. cool, okay yeah. onto the thing and sorry for keeping you.

also yoongi's fucking mixtape ???? i'm fucking bald y'all

Yoongi sat on the couch, mind blank as he listened to the shower run. He stared at the clock, a mocking tick, tick, a constant reminder that in fifteen – fourteen, actually – minutes the wicked witch of southea– he meant Jimin's mom, would be in his apartment. Jimin was still getting ready, dragging out the process as long as he could to busy his mind, while Yoongi had wanted to get it all done as quick as possible so he could prepare himself.

The shower shut off and Yoongi heard the sound of little feet padding across the carpet on their way to Jimin's room. They stopped short of the hallway, though, and Yoongi turned around with his eyebrows raised. Jimin was standing in the entrance to the living room, towel thrown around himself like a cape and doing absolutely nothing to protect the floor against the water dripping from his hair and body.

"Can Yoongi hyung help Jiminie get dressed?" Jimin asked, voice small. He was looking at Yoongi pleadingly, almost in a way that said; you made me shower alone, asshole, at least mad handle me into some clothes for gods sake. So Yoongi nodded and followed Jimin to his room.

As Yoongi helped Jimin into his pants, he could feel the younger's hands shaking against his shoulders. Yoongi looked up at him and placed a soft kiss on Jimin's sternum. "Don't be nervous, Jiminie. Hyung will be right beside you the whole time, okay? If you need me to I'll ask her to leave after a little bit."

"Okay," Jimin said, lifting his arms into the air so Yoongi could pull his shirt over his head. Once Jimin was dressed Yoongi ruffled his hair, small droplets of water flying from the stands as Yoongi shook them. There was a heavy knock on the door and Jimin stiffened, eyes going wide.

"I'll get it, you go to the kitchen and look busy, okay?" Yoongi said, then he kissed Jimin one more time before making his way towards the door. He opened it to reveal Mrs. Park, smiling widely at him with a glass pan in her hands.

"I brought lasagna!" She yelled, sidestepping her way into the apartment and chucking off her shoes in the hallway. Yoongi brushed them to the side before following her into the kitchen, where Jimin was shakily pouring glasses of water. Some of it had spilled onto the counter, some splashed onto the side of the glass, but Jimin didn't seem to notice, as his eyes were hard focused on the water pouring out of the pitcher into the cup.

"Hello, Jimin, how are you today?" Mrs. Park asked as she laid the dish down on the table in the kitchen. She turned around and smiled at Jimin, a sweetly sinister sort of thing, and Yoongi was vaguely reminded of Cruella Di'Ville.

"J-Jimin is–" Jimin seemed to catch himself, shaking his head quickly before looking up and smiling. "I'm good, mom. How're you?" Jimin asked, and Yoongi shifted to stand where Mrs. Park couldn't see him before giving Jimin a thumbs up, accompanied by a huge grin.

"Good, a little bit inquisitive as to why I haven't seen you in years, but other than that I'm pretty good." Mrs. Park turned on her heel to look at Yoongi, eyebrow raised. "And you, Yoongi? I assume you're good as well?"

"Yep, Mrs. Park. I'm good, thanks for asking." Yoongi said, pulling out a chair from the table and tapping the back of it lightly. "You can sit down, if you'd like, I'll get plates. Jimin? Come sit down, okay?"

Mrs. Park takes her place in the chair, one Yoongi had strategically picked as the farthest away from the one Jimin usually sat in. Jimin nodded, setting the pitcher down with more force than necessary on the counter. Yoongi smiled at him as Jimin sat down, immediately pulling his feet up onto the chair so he could sit on his legs. Yoongi found it endearing, but judging by the harsh glare Jimin was receiving from the opposite end of the table, his mother thought differently. Even after four years of not seeing him she was still picking on him for little things. Yoongi rolled his eyes as he opened the cupboard.

He pulled out three patterned plates, all plastic with different animals on them. As he set them down on the table Jimin squeaked and grabbed Yoongi's wrist. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking up at Yoongi. Yoongi shrugged, mumbled something about them being the only plates clean before walking away to get forks. That was a lie, however, because behind the animal plates sat a full set of fancy dining plates, only used when Yoongi's family came to visit. Jimin had expected to use them tonight, but Yoongi had different plans. He was trying to make Jimin as comfortable as possible - and if that meant forcing his mother to eat off of a rhinoceros plate, then so be it.

"Anyway, Mrs. Park, how have you been?" Yoongi asked, setting down the silverware before taking a seat next to Jimin. Mrs. Park sipped on her water and Jimin reached forward to put some food onto his plate. Yoongi almost offered to do it for him, but stopped himself when Mrs. Park cleared her throat.

"I've been good, I've been going to beach yoga lately, and I feel much more in touch with my soul, you know? You boys should try it sometime. On Saturdays I go to mahjong, but had to cancel tonight so I could come see you." Mrs. Park said. Yoongi winced, because even though she hadn't said anything bad, the way she said it made it seem like seeing Jimin was an inconvenience.

"Oh," Jimin said, pushing around his food with his fork. "Well, I'm glad you could make it; despite your busy schedule." Yoongi does a internal you fuckin' tell her, babe, and eats his food smugly.

"Jimin," Mrs. Park said as she pushed her plate to the side. Jimin looked up at her through his eyelashes and licked the sauce off his fork. "After dinner I would like to speak with you."

Jimin froze, fork hanging limply from his lips as he looked at his mother. Yoongi too had frozen, showing a great deal of interest in his plate as he waited for Jimin to reply. "Okay," Jimin squeaked, setting down his fork and pushing his plate to the side. "I'm done, now, so whatever you want to talk about –" Jimin moved his hands around in the air and waited for his mom to speak to him.

Instead, she turned to Yoongi and motioned to the door. Yoongi started to get up, because obviously she'd want to talk to her son in private, but Jimin grabbed onto his shirt sleeve, small hands making an iron grip on the fabric. "No. Stay, please."

"Jimin –"

"Whatever you have to say to me will probably affect Yoongi hyung, too. Please sit back down." So Yoongi plopped himself into his chair, the large movement concealing the fact that he'd pushed his chair ever so closer to Jimin's to try and give the boy some sense of comfort.

"Well, as you know, I give you a monthly allowance, for I have far more money than I know what to do with." Mrs. Park started, and Jimin nodded in agreement. Yoongi stared down at his lap, trying to be small but still enough of a presence that Jimin felt protected. Mrs. Park took an almost condescending sip of her water before continuing. "I'm going to have to cut you off, starting at the end of this month. It-"

"What?" Jimin cut her off, legs falling away from where he'd been hugging them against his chest. He looked man, furious, even, and Yoongi wanted to step in and ask Mrs. Park to leave, but instead he just sunk into his chair and placed a hand on Jimin's thigh. "Did you not just say you have too much money as it is? Is a grand a month really hurting you? Is it taking away from your quality of life?"

"As I was saying," Mrs. Park said, ignoring her son. "It gives two weeks to find a job. I feel like you've become too dependent on me, Jimin, and-"

"Dependent? On you? That's fucking rich, you know? I stopped being dependent on you in high school, when you decided the throw me to the dogs and let me 'figure out life on my own.' I stopped depending on everyone after dad died. I don't need your fucking money. Get out of my house." Jimin stood up so abruptly that Yoongi's knuckles hit the table, as he was unable to pull his hand away in time to avoid it. Jimin stomped to the front hall, and Yoongi had to duck as two shoes flew over his head into the kitchen. Mrs. Park took her shoes off the table and shoved her feet into them with the same angered vivaciousness her son had.

"Okay, okay wait." Yoongi said, trying to keep Jimin from forcing his mom out of the apartment. He wrapped an arm around Jimin's shoulders and propped the door open with his hip. "Don't you guys want to talk about this? Maybe work out some deal where you don't cut him off until he secures a job? Or maybe give him one more month? I don't think that's too much to ask-"

"Get out!" Jimin yelled over him, kicking forward with his leg. Mrs. Park glared at him before stomping out of the apartment, pulling the door free from Yoongi's hold and shut behind her. Once she was in the hallway, Jimin went limp in Yoongi's arms, all the rage seeming to flow right out of him as he sagged against Yoongi's forearm. Yoongi just held onto him, unsure of what to do. Jimin started to get heavy so Yoongi awkwardly lowered them to the ground, where Jimin immediately spun around and folded himself into Yoongi's arms. "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck?" Yoongi said, and maybe he wasn't as eloquent as he should be. "Why? You did nothing wrong. We'll get you a job, don't worry about it."

"I overreacted. I should have tried to talk to her." Jimin said, his voice so calm it was scary. He seemed to be past the point of crying, voice to tired that Yoongi believed him to be just emotionally drained. "I threw shoes at my mother. I can't believe I threw shoes at my mom."

"If it makes you feel any better, they were closer to my head than they were hers." Yoongi said, running his hands up and down Jimin's back. Jimin was an emotional person, always taking his feelings to the next level. It was the reason he got so clingy, or so sad, or why when he lost his temper he threw shoes at random bystanders.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" Jimin asked, leaning back to look over Yoongi's face, making sure there were no marks from shoes coming in contact with his face. Yoongi smiled at the younger and patted his head lightly. Jimin wrinkled his nose and Yoongi laughed a little. "How am I going to get a job, hyung? I haven't had any work experience since I graduated."

"We'll figure something out, Jiminie." Yoongi said, hugging the boy right to his chest. Jimin slumped against him, letting out a heavy breath as he did so. "We'll figure something out."

two more chapters left ,, also school starts tomorrow, so I'll see you in probably a week sorry !