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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

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Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again.

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do.

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck.

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation.

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours.

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals.

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor.

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that.

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath.

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like.

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day.

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave.

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha

637 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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Hug-o-gram | Yoongi

→ summary:

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K → a/n: another commission by the lovely @jincherie because she’s epic like that!! she literally just told me to write whatever the hell i wanted and well... yoobie got me Good... anyway here’s more yoongi fluff bc apparently i’m a fluff writer now and sometimes i just want my boy to be happy... appa yip yip

Kim Seokjin makes a lot of good decisions. He also makes plenty of bad ones, but he likes to think the score is lying heavily towards the positives. Min Yoongi will be the first one to quickly disagree, but Seokjin doesn’t let it get to him. He doesn’t make it his business to listen to opinions that don’t immediately align with his, anyway; he likes to call it “selective hearing.” Yoongi calls it stupidity. Either way, the point still stands: Seokjin knows a good idea when he sees one. Case in point:

“This automatic popcorn machine is absolutely divine,” Seokjin moans, his mouth agape as he waits for the Mister Popcorn Robot to bestow him with another morsel of goodness.

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s verbose reply. He also has his mouth agape, his prone body lying side by side with his roommate of four years in their small living room. Their roomba (another one of Seokjin’s good ideas) cleans all around them, its steady whirring serving as their only source of background music. “Lowkey though, I think our position isn’t quite… as optimized as it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, as he drapes his leg over Yoongi’s. His movement jostles the surrounding popcorn halo around them, as most of the food had missed their mouths by a couple of centimeters. At this point, the roomba has probably eaten more of the popcorn than the two of them combined.

“Nothing,” Yoongi shrugs, or whatever might be the lying down equivalent of a shrug. Some of the popcorn on his chest falls down, only to be quickly devoured by roomba-chi. Yoongi stares at the ceiling, tracing shapes out of the cracks that Seokjin had accidentally made when he tried using a pogo stick indoors. He points up, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Hey, hyung. Doesn’t that look a bit like Y/N?”

Seokjin squints. “You mean the mysterious brown stain near the lights? I think the toilet from the elderly couple upstairs might have leaked that.”

“No, you dipshit. The squiggly curve over there. It reminds me of her smile.” Yoongi says. There’s a stupid dopey grin on his face and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Seokjin groans, turning over to envelop Yoongi in a sweaty half-armed hug. The buttery residue on his arms and stomach leaves something to be desired, but Yoongi doesn’t scoot away. He only continues to sigh dreamily, staring mindlessly at the image of you that only his lovelorn brain can imagine.

Seokjin slaps Yoongi in the face. “Dude, get a fucking grip,” he grouses, giving Yoongi a serious look. The younger doesn’t break out of his trance, further irritating him. “Will you stop pining in front of my popcorn? It’s seriously making roomba-chi lose her appetite!”

To his credit, roomba-chi did seem to be slowing down, though that could also be because it had overloaded with popcorn and was seconds away from exploding. Wouldn’t be the first time, but Seokjin always managed to find a way to save roomba-chi from imminent death. She was like a daughter to him.

“Hyung, you know I can’t. I just… God, I really like her, you know?”

“That’s the third time you said that within the last hour. Believe me, I know.” Seokjin groans, shoving Yoongi away. He sits up, reaching over to the popcorn machine and switching it off. He grabs a fistful of fallen popcorn from the ground and shoves it inside Yoongi’s mouth. “There. That should shut you up.”

“Aw weawwy wike hew, hwung.”

“And yet, you still haven’t done anything after four years,” Seokjin tuts, finally standing up. He stretches his limbs, his joints creaking youthfully. He grabs his phone from the coffee table, nearly dropping it from the butteriness of his fingers. The clock reads 4:32 PM, which means–

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbows. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

“Hyung, let me come with you to work today,” Yoongi decides, walking over Seokjin’s prone body to their shoe rack. He slides into a pair of sneakers, his harried movements unusual for his customary lethargicness. He grabs a coat from its hanger, stomping his feet to get Seokjin to move faster. “C’mon! We have hugs to deliver.”

“Woah woah woah! Slow down there, Simpimus Prime.” Seokjin gets back up to his feet, skipping over to him. An absolutely feral grin is stretched upon his face. “Am I hearing what you’re saying? Are you offering… to deliver hugs with yours truly? Are you finally going to take up my offer to be an employee at Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, but his shifting eyes betray him. He fidgets in place, refusing to return Seokjin’s eager gaze. “I just… wanted to go out for once. Yeah.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You haven’t left this apartment other than to go to class in over a month. You never go out. You’re an indoor cat!”

“I’m not a fucking cat,” Yoongi hisses, like a cat. “And of course I go out! There was that one time I went outside to pick up our food delivery last week.”

Judging from Seokjin’s unimpressed stare, Yoongi’s excuse doesn’t cut it. Yoongi flaps his arms around, defeated. “Okay, fine! I rarely go out! Screw me and the bounteous crapload of assignments I have due! It’s not my fault I don’t have the time to socialize and have fun. What do you want from me?”

What Seokjin wants is to push a confession out of Yoongi, not because he needs the confirmation, but mostly because he just wants to annoy Yoongi and say “I told you so!” He’s also pretty cute when he’s all blushy and tsundere whenever he talks about you. Should he film him and sell the footage on eboys.bb? He’s certain that goth boy over here would make a pretty penny.

“You like krabby patties, don’t you Squidward?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yoongi sniffs, nose upturned. He opens the door, not looking behind him to see Seokjin’s triumphant expression. “C’mon. Y/N’s last class of the day ends in a few minutes and we might catch her before she leaves the Science Building.”

Seokjin snorts. He is quick to slip his own coat on and he follows soon after. He locks their door shut, hopping over to Yoongi and matching his shorter-legged pace. “Yeah. Because you totally just know her schedule at the top of your head. You know, like a normal person.”

Yoongi ignores him. He trudges on, each step filled with determination as they make their way to Seokjin’s beat-up truck. Seokjin skips alongside him, observing the younger boy and placing bets inside his mind. The drive to campus isn’t that long as it only takes around 10 minutes to get there, but Seokjin guesses that Yoongi’s defenses will begin to chip away only 3 minutes into the drive.

He’ll start to realize the gravity of the situation, the cogs in his smooth and slushy excuse of a brain slowly comprehend what he’s about to witness. He’ll first think about how 1) he’s going to see you and that never helps his poor dainty grandpa heart and 2) he’s going to see you hugging Seokjin as he reads to you the short love confession from your anonymous Romeo. Seokjin bets that after 8 minutes, Yoongi will start to break out into a sweat, leaving gross perspiration marks on his good car seat leather.

After exactly 7 minutes and 34 seconds (Seokjin was keeping track of the time on his dashboard), Yoongi’s face turns an unflattering shade of green. “Dude. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yoongi had originally offered to drive the two of them to campus, but Seokjin had the good foresight to refuse. Had Yoongi been the one on the wheel, he would’ve brought them back home in an instant due to nerves. So instead, Seokjin speeds up, ignoring Yoongi’s soft whimpers of defeat.

“Too bad, but there is no turning back now. I have six deliveries today and I am not putting my livelihood on the line just because your balls have magically shrunk in size,” Seokjin snickers. He glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye and feels the slightest touch of pity for the pathetic fool beside him. “But if it really makes you want to shit yourself from anxiety, we could save Y/N for last. Though, on second thought… That could also prolong your misery, which I will always be up for.”

“God, shut up,” Yoongi groans, slamming his head on the dashboard. Seokjin continues undeterred as he pulls into the campus parking lot, waiting for his friend to make up his damn mind for once in his life. He supposes that he is being a little harsh on Yoongi, but there are only so many sad love songs he can listen to without going completely insane.

Aren’t you tired of being nice? The demon on his shoulder cajoles, shoving the corpse of his angel counterpart somewhere down a ditch. Don’t you just want to go apeshit?

And who is Seokjin to deny his impulsive needs anyway?

“No, let’s… just get this over with,” Yoongi decides, head still smushed against his dashboard. He doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, not even when Seokjin shuts off the engine and makes a show of “leaving” Yoongi behind.

“Okay, lover boy. You have ten seconds to get your butt into high gear before I’m leaving you behind. And you should know that I’m not above playing dirty and giving Y/N the sweetest fucking hug of her life that will make her forget anyone else exists in this world, so you better start moving before I–”

Like lightning, Yoongi scrambles out of the car faster than if it had caught on fire (and Seokjin’s car has exploded before and Yoongi certainly did not seem as bothered to escape than he does right now.) He nearly trips over himself in his haste, getting caught by the car door and nearly receiving a concrete facial to boot. He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster (which he doesn’t have very much of, if at all.) Seokjin is kind enough not to mention anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face is enough to make Yoongi bristle.

They exit the parking lot, looking to the world like the sun and moon had turned human for the day. Min Yoongi, with his all-black attire and gaunt appearance, is heavily juxtaposed with the man who appears to have been vomited on by a rainbow. They walk side-by-side together, accustomed to the stares that often come their way when they go out in public.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Yoongi moans for the umpteenth time, his movements stilted like a robot. His footsteps look heavily disjointed like his knees were beginning to rust. His arms swing like a pendulum, adding to the unnaturalness of his motions. Basically, he looks like a fucking idiot.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Yoongi snaps. Seokjin startles a bit, realizing belatedly that he’d said that out loud. Not that he cares. Yoongi continues, “I’m not the one wearing a fucking cardboard sign that looks like a toddler made it with macaroni and glitter!”

“Hey, Taehyung told me it looked good,” Seokjin sniffs, fingering the macaroni pieces dejectedly. “I don’t need to hear an opinion from a Music major.”

“Shut up, Business major. No one likes you fucking snakes,” Yoongi retorts, crossing his arms. “Your definition of fun is going on LinkedIn and using Excel sheets.”

Distracted by their own quarrel, neither of them notice the sound of the large clock in the middle of campus that chimes every hour, signaling that it was already 5 PM. A few minutes later, hoards of students begin to leave university for the day, the walkways beginning to fill with people as they head home. Amidst the chattering and bustling of everyone trying to get out of the crowd, it is hard to notice that you are also one of the hundreds of people finishing your last class of the day.

But Yoongi notices, as he always does. Call it Y/N intuition, or whatever. “There,” Yoongi points you out over dozens of heads. Seokjin can hardly spot you, but he trusts Yoongi’s weird Y/N-dar to find you without fail. People have begun to notice the two of them, most of whom were whispering excitedly when they notice that Seokjin is in his work attire.

“Oh my god, someone’s getting a hug-o-gram! I wonder who…”

“Have you ever ordered one? I got one for my current girlfriend last month and that’s how we got together.”

“I’ve always wanted to send one, but the prices are insane! Fuck them business students and their capitalist ways.”

“Screw sending a hug to someone else! I wanna order a hug for me. Kim Seokjin is a hot piece of ass.”

(Yoongi swears the last comment had sounded eerily like Seokjin himself, but the older boy’s mouth hadn’t moved in the last minute.)

“Alright, Yoongi. Here’s the plan,” Seokjin leans closer to Yoongi, stage whispering into his ear. Everyone within a six-foot radius is eagerly eavesdropping, not even bothering to pretend that they aren’t. It’s common knowledge that Seokjin basks in their attention, anyway. Yoongi rolls his eyes, urging him to get it over with.

“Y/N is over there, right? Well, I have to send a hug to this guy named Mark Lee too, who just so happens to be over there,” Seokjin points behind them, in the opposite direction of where Y/N was heading, “so here’s my proposition. You go over to Y/N and deliver the hug for me, while I go catch up to Mark so that we can kill one bird with two stones!”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi wheezes, pushing Seokjin away from him. His eyes bug out. “Are you insane? I am not doing that. And the phrase is ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ you fucking idiot.”

“Same shit, Shakespeare! Who cares about numbers!” Seokjin exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, would you rather you hug Mark and I hug Y/N?”

“I would much rather prefer that I stick my whole fist up your anus,” Yoongi seethes.

“Interesting proposition, but maybe for a later time,” Seokjin says, not missing a beat. “Listen, dude. The longer we prolong this little bitchfest you have going on, the farther away Y/N is gonna get. You know I will stop at nothing to deliver her hug anyway, so would you rather you miss your chance right now when I am so magnanimously offering you a shot at getting closer to your crush?”

Even though Yoongi feels like his insides were slowly turning into mashed potatoes, he knows that he had already made a decision long before they left the house. Seokjin is right; this is a good opportunity for him, whether he is willing to admit it out loud. Perhaps it is just because it is Seokjin of all people who is egging him on that preprogrammed him into thinking that this was a bad idea. In all seriousness, it was just a hug, nothing fancy. It isn’t like Yoongi was going to have to kiss you––

(His heart contracts and Yoongi wonders if he’s having a stroke. The thought of your soft lips connecting with his is enough to cause the wind to knock out of his chest. God, Yoongi is so screwed.)

“Why must I always feel as though I am a snail and God is personally salting me,” Yoongi groans, stepping away from Seokjin and heading your way. Behind him, Seokjin hollers in what he assumes is friendly support, but it only further antagonizes Yoongi. The absolute buffoon waves enthusiastically from behind him, a beaming grin almost ready to split his face in two. Yoongi flips him off without looking back.

God fucking dammit. The closer that Yoongi is to approaching you, the stronger the urge to just evaporate like ice cream on hot concrete becomes. He can feel himself perspiring from every corner of his body and he just hopes that his black attire will do well to mask the slimy creature that he is underneath his clothing.

This is all Seokjin’s fault, Yoongi reminds himself. If he hadn’t started this stupid hugging service in the first place, then no one would have ordered a hug for you in the first place. Then Yoongi wouldn’t have to be in this stupid predicament either!

But you could’ve ordered a hug for her if you wanted to, says the annoying part of his brain – the same part that’s always been a little bit too hopeful for Yoongi’s liking. The whispers continue, And she wouldn’t even know it would be you! But more importantly…

“Seokjin wouldn’t know either,” Yoongi huffs irritably because he knows it’s true. The biggest thing stopping him from ever making a move on you, other than his debilitating fear of rejection and heartbreak, is the fact that he’d rather explode into spores than for Seokjin to find out that he’d used his “genius” business idea to get the girl of his dreams.

He’s afraid that one day, Seokjin would magically develop telepathic powers (a fear that Yoongi feels that the majority of the human population should also share) and find out that Yoongi doesn’t actually think his hug-o-gram service is dumb. It’s actually really cute, and Yoongi hates to admit that the success rate of his service is nearly perfect in terms of getting couples together.

But Yoongi is a strong (read: stubborn) man; he’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin the satisfaction of seeing his business work out for his seemingly hopeless case. Which brings him to the present–

You’re standing by the entrance of the Sciences building. You are dressed nicely as always; Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in anything remotely slobby, not even a pair of sweats like any regular uni student. You always look a little bit business proper: the epitome of someone who should be on the student council.

You’re speaking to someone, a younger male student by the looks of it. The hairs on Yoongi’s neck stand at attention and, God forbid, did he just fucking growl? Did he make that sound? By the looks of the students carefully navigating their way around him, Yoongi surmises that he did make that sound. Geez, is he some sort of animal? Is he going to turn into those feral stan accounts on Twitter that salivate over their K-pop boys like it’s their job? He hopes not.

But what if that’s the kid who sent the hug–

Yoongi shuts up his brain before he can let it finish. No, he can’t let himself go down that path. It’ll only cause him to self-combust right then and there, and he isn’t exactly keen on letting you see his entrails anytime soon. That would be the least cool thing to do, he decides. And so, with his brain turned off, he walks over to you, arms swinging robotically by his sides as he forces himself closer.

“Oh thank you so much, Y/N! You’ve been a real help to our club, you know?” The boy (Yoongi can’t believe they’re letting toddlers into university these days!) says, his eyes glittering with an ambition that still hasn’t been killed by the all-consuming dread that comes with university.

You laugh lightly, the sound causing butterflies to flutter excitedly in Yoongi’s chest. “No worries, Soobin. I’m glad I could be of help. If the editorial board needs any more help, don’t be shy to shoot me a message, alright?”

Soobin nods enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down so quickly that Yoongi was afraid his neck would snap. “No worries, Y/N! Have a good rest of your week!” He waves a cheery goodbye, springing away with his numerous anime keychains on his backpack jingling softly in his wake.

“What a cute kid,” you sigh. You look incredibly fond, and Yoongi hates the bitter coil swimming in the pit of his stomach. That feeling soon fizzles out when you finally turn to face Yoongi. Your eyebrows shoot up, but your expression quickly morphs into one of pleasant surprise. Yoongi’s heart stops for just a moment, feet turning cold. “Yoongi! Oh my goodness, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you! How’s it going?”

Let’s play a game, shall we? How many of Yoongi’s nervous ticks can you spot within the next five minutes? Think of this as the easiest game of Where’s Waldo ever!

“Hnng,” Yoongi stammers, his hand immediately going to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks pinken, pupils shaking in every different direction as they try to focus on anything but you. It always feels like he’s standing way too close to the sun when he’s around you, hardly able to keep his gaze focused on you. He chooses to stare resolutely at your chin, but even your fucking chin was impossibly cute.

Seriously? Yoongi is a walking shitshow! His inner voice comes back, but this time it sounds uncannily like his roommate. Come on, buddy. Just say hi… You know, like a normal person. “H… Hey, Y/N.”

Success count: 1 point for the Yogurt Machine!

Even though Yoongi felt like he was living his worst nightmare, you still looked every bit like his favorite daydream. You are all smiles, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s slow, embarrassing demise. “It’s so good to see you! Midterms haven’t been too hard on you, I hope?”

“I’ve been better,” he says. Better now that you’re here, he leaves unsaid. God, can you imagine if he said that out loud?

Your mouth drops open, soft cherry blossoms blooming across your cheeks. “Um, what did you say?” you squeak, embarrassed. But certainly not as embarrassed as the boy in front of you.

Yoongi stops breathing. He did not say that aloud, had he? Judging by the awkward silence stretching between the two of you, the signs are pointing to: yes. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo–– “Er, what I mean to say is,” Yoongi stutters through his sentence, his entire body flushing fire engine red like it’s nobody’s business. He must look like Satan’s spanked ass right now. “I… I’m here to deliver a hug!”

Confusion quickly replaces the shock on your face. You tilt your head, brows scrunching up cutely. “A hug?” you ask.

“R-right,” Yoongi says, waving his arms around because he has nothing else better to do. He gestures vaguely in the opposite direction, where Seokjin had left to find his other clients. “I’m, uhh… Helping my roommate. Have you heard of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram service?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hop excitedly in place, looking to all the world like the cutest thing in the universe. Yoongi thinks you should be classified as a public hazard, what with how you’re somehow able to give him diabetes just from standing next to him. “I totally heard about that! I’ve always wanted to send a hug, but I’ve always been a little shy.”

That piques Yoongi’s interest immediately. You wanted to send a hug? But to who? He unconsciously clenches his jaw, and he can feel a vein pop up near his neck. He forces himself to smile, but he knows it probably looks more like a grimace. “Oh really? That’s… I didn’t know you had a crush on somebody.”

Yoongi is too busy wallowing in his own self-pity puddle that he misses the way you gaze shyly up at him through your eyelashes, your hands clasped behind your back. “Y-yea… I don’t really go around telling it to just anybody,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. You clear your throat. “So, are you here to deliver a hug or something?”

Nothing gets past you, huh? Yoongi swallows thickly as he twiddles his thumbs. He still can’t bear to look at you head-on, afraid that his emotions would be too obvious if he did. (Who is he kidding… He knows he’s fucking obvious, and yet you never seem to get the picture!) “Yea, I am. I’m here to deliver one to you, actually.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction, but he does notice the way your entire body stiffens. His mind immediately starts to run a minute, trying to guess why you’d suddenly gone stock still.

Did you know who your secret admirer was already? Or perhaps, were you just thoroughly shocked to receive one at all? That can’t be it… You’re the campus sweetheart! Surely it’s much weirder that it has taken eons for you to get your first hug… Or perhaps, are you so disgusted by the thought of him delivering the hug? Oh my god, what if you didn’t want him to hug you? Shit, this entire thing is a terrible idea! How did Seokjin ever convince him to do this stupid shit and get his heartbroken in the process? He swears he’s going to shove ten firecrackers up his ass the next time he sees him––

“Um, Yoongi?” You’re staring worriedly at him, your hand semi-raised as if you were about to wave in front of him. Did you say something? He must look like a fucking prick to you! He shakes his head, trying desperately to get his mind back into his body. Why must he be cursed with inner monologue disease? What is he, some sort of shoujo manga male protagonist?

“Sorry about that. I’ve been a little spacey these days,” he laughs, but even he can hear the panic laced in his voice. He sounds just on the edge of being hysterical. “Ahaha… What were you saying?”

“I was just… shocked?” You giggle softly, making Yoongi cry internally. You smirk, mischief glittering in your eyes. “I just never imagined you’d be the type to… I don’t know…”

“Willingly hug people for the sake of capitalism? I feel you,” Yoongi snorts, forgetting for a moment who he’s talking to. “Believe me, I’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin to use me for his stupid business venture.”

“Then why are you delivering a hug to me now?” you ask, still smiling.

“Hnng,” Yoongi’s tongue feels like it’s grown two sizes all of a sudden. He wheezes, choking on his own spit as he’s caught off guard by your question. “W-well, I––”

“Just being a good friend, I’m guessing?” You’re full-on giggling now, barely trying to hide your mirth behind your hands. Yoongi understands now; you’re teasing him. He hates how amused you are by his awkwardness, but he loves the way your entire expression lights up, like you’re enjoying yourself by being with him.

“Let’s go with that,” Yoongi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. He has his head bowed, hoping that his unruly fringe can finally come in handy and hide the disastrous blush encompassing his face. “Right… I’ll just, umm…”

“Am I getting my hug today, or am I gonna have to take a rain check?” You laugh, slapping his shoulder in an attempt to help him shake off the awkward tension. It has the opposite intended effect, as Yoongi’s breath hitches imperceptibly at your proximity. You had taken a step closer, and Yoongi could smell the sweet perfume you always seemed to be wearing. Please don’t pop a boner right now. That would be super fucking creepy.

“You’re…” Yoongi hesitates, arms uselessly immobile by his sides. He doesn’t know if he can even get them to move at this point, as he has lost all motor skills the moment you had focused all your attention on him. It’s a miracle that his heart remembers to beat every so often. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go for it, okay?”

You nod, hands tucked neatly behind your back. “No need to be scared, Yoongi. I don’t bite,” you joke.

God, if you only knew about the dreams I’ve had of you. Yoongi hopes to all the deities from up above that he had not said that aloud, but you don’t seem to be disgusted, so he can only assume that his traitorous brain had disconnected with his mouth for the time being.

He shuffles closer to you, the warmth of your body closing in as he makes the grueling effort to lift his arms up to gently wrap themselves around you, but before he can even fully hug you––

You’re quick to reciprocate. With a small laugh, you wrap your own arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest with more force than Yoongi was expecting. He lets out a soft wheeze, mouth dropping open when he is assaulted by the smell of your fruity shampoo. His hands hover awkwardly above you, still unsure of where it’s okay to touch you without weirding you out.

You tilt your face up, eyes crinkling cutely by the sheer force of your grin. Both of your faces are only centimeters away from each other, and Yoongi could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired. His breathing stills as he becomes positively mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of him. He doesn’t even hear the sound of phone camera shutters around him, as he is much too deeply focused on nothing but you, you, you.

“Hey, don’t half-ass your hug! Gimme a good ol’ bear hug!” you whine, nudging his elbows gently to get them to move. Snapped out of his reverie, Yoongi mechanically does as you say, his head completely empty of thoughts. He wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, his wrist knocking slightly against the back of your head until you’re back to snuggling deep into his chest.

“Your laundry detergent smells nice,” you say, slightly muffled by his shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, mostly out of disbelief more than anything. He can’t even begin to process anything right now; he feels like he’s reverted back into a single-celled organism.

“Thanks?” Yoongi squeaks, but you don’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at being a Normal Person™️. You crane your neck upwards so that you’re looking him directly in the eye. There’s a twinkle of mischief there, like you’re enjoying Yoongi’s flushed face a little too much. He honestly feels like he’s seconds away from exploding into tiny bite-sized pieces, and he fears that if you snuggle deeper into his chest, he might just do exactly that.

“So… Are we just supposed to hug for another ten minutes, or am I allowed to let go?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize how long it’s been. You could’ve been hugging him for ten hours and he wouldn’t have known. Yoongi jerks away from you, nearly vaulting himself across campus by how quickly he lets you go. Thankfully, you don’t appear offended––you were more amused than anything. Yoongi has no idea how red he is right now; he feels like he could be blowing steam out of his ears, astounding anatomists everywhere by his peculiar talent.

“I just have to–” Yoongi pats his back pockets for his phone, clumsily pulling it out and looking for his text messages, “–read this message from your, um, secret admirer and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” You nod at him enthusiastically. “Whenever you’re ready, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches right then, caught off guard by the nickname. Only you ever called him that, and it never fails to make Yoongi’s insides feel like molten lava every time you say it. “I… Yeah, here goes,” Yoongi mutters, trying his best to remember how to speak.

He recites the message with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, which is to say, not very much. He could probably read the phonebook with more zeal, but it’s hard to give it his all when the words feel like acid in his throat. He’s unconsciously clenching his jaw as he speaks, looking like a constipated gorilla. “...so, if you’re single and ready to #mingle, then––” Yoongi stops mid-sentence, staring resolutely at his phone screen with a grimace.

You blink confusedly. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Yoongi finishes, pocketing his phone without an inch of remorse. “I don’t know what was up with that message, but somehow the letter got cut short. Sorry about that.”

“Huh, strange.” You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to question him.

Yoongi fist bumps himself mentally, though other people might disagree and say that he doesn’t deserve any type of congratulations, to which Yoongi says a big “fuck you!” to those imaginary haters. In the wise words of Kim Seokjin himself, “not everyone is worthy to receive your fucks, so it’s time to stop giving them.” (Kim, 2020)

“Well, that was fun! Thanks for delivering the hug to me, Yoonie,” you pinch Yoongi’s cheek, giggling when they turn even redder. “I’ll see you around, I guess? Don’t let those midterms kill ya!” You wave cheerily at him, walking past him and heading towards the bus stops. Yoongi stands frozen in place, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him and frying his brain beyond repair.

Oh my god, he fucking hugged you! Like, a good and genuine hug! You felt so warm and so soft and you smelled really good and it was more than he could ever imagine and just––

Yoongi’s brain is trying (and failing) to desperately parse the delayed barrage of information as it comes, but it’s hard for the little hamster running circles in his head when it has never had to run a day in its life. Yoongi’s body feels like it’s overheating even though the weather is nearing the start of winter, but that’s all thanks to you and the devastating effect you have on him.

In short, Yoongi machine has broken, and any sort of maintenance is going to be hard to come by at the moment.

Yoongi could have been standing in front of the Science building for an entire year and he wouldn’t have budged until a tornado in the form of Kim Seokjin arrived to knock him out of his brain dead state. Whistling lowly, the elder stops in front of the rigid mass of meat, an eyebrow quirked in exasperation. “Dude, nice rigor mortis cosplay. Like, yes girl, give us nothing!” he exclaims, slapping Yoongi back to consciousness.

Yoongi blinks rapidly, dazed like he’s woken up from a dream. “What? What’s happening?” he replies dumbly.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yoongi. Did you finish delivering Y/N’s hug or what? I finished all my deliveries in the same time you had with Y/N, so I better hope to God you aren’t planning on applying to be an employee of mine, because you certainly have a long way to go before––”

“I hugged her,” Yoongi interrupts, eyes going glassy once more. His mouth is agape, and Seokjin can see a pool of saliva forming, ready to runneth over. He could see the rusted gears turning inside his dongsaeng’s head. “Oh my god, hyung. I fucking hugged her.”

“Yeah, and I hugged Taehyung Kim and felt his gigantic dick press into my stomach. You aren’t special,” Seokjin snorts, clasping Yoongi by the bicep. He drags him away, leading them to their parked car. “C’mon, Dampé. I’m tired and I wanna eat popcorn again.”

As they walk back to the parking lot, the campus roads are a lot less populated now that most students have gone home. Yoongi only then realizes how late it truly is and he vaguely wonders how long he had been stuck standing there before Seokjin had come to drag him back home. The sun has begun its daily descent, filling the courtyard with a warm glow and causing their shadows to grow longer as they trudge quietly to their car.

The campus is quiet enough that both of them hear the quiet buzz of Seokjin’s phone, despite him putting it on silent mode before he had gone on his hugging deliveries. He stops mid-step, causing Yoongi to bump his nose into his wide back. He yelps, shoving Seokjin forward in irritation.

“Why’d you fucking stop, you asshole?” Yoongi whines, his normal annoying personality resurfacing now that he’s begun to recover from your hug. He peers over Seokjin’s behemoth shoulders, squinting at his phone screen. “What? Another hug delivery?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow since I think she’s gone home for the day,” Seokjin says, his tone sounding slightly too delighted for comfort. “In fact, I know she’s gone home already.”

Yoongi stills, changing his focus onto the elder’s expression. He looks… too eager to receive a simple hug-o-gram request. A shiver shoots through Yoongi’s spine when he realizes how nefariously bastardous Seokjin’s smile has grown, the tips of his smirk curling upwards like a villain from a classic Disney animation.

“What?” Yoongi glares acidly at Seokjin, but the elder is unaffected. In fact, he seems to grow more pleased the more aggravated Yoongi becomes. “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?”

“Oh, nothing,” Seokjin singsongs, shoving his phone down the front of his pants, exactly where he knows Yoongi would never touch. “Just got an interesting new regular customer, is all.”

“A new regular?” Yoongi’s pitch heightens, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling in alarm (like a cat.) “Is it… Another request for… You know who?”

“I wasn’t aware Voldemort went to our university,” Seokjin teases, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s distress. “Though, if you’re talking about Y/N, then the answer is not not not no.”

“Two double negatives.” Anyone could hear the audible soft rattling of his two brain cells exerting themselves as Yoongi deciphers his answer. “That means…”

Yoongi stares pointedly at Seokjin’s crotch, where the outline of his phone is glaringly obvious. “Show me,” Yoongi growls, not making a move to actually touch Seokjin’s nether regions.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “No one’s stopping you from taking my phone though?”

“Hyung!”

“Buy me bubble tea first, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” Yoongi acquiesces, folding his arms in annoyance. “Just tell me. Is it really the same guy who requested the hug for Y/N today as well?”

Seokjin fiddles around for his phone, digging deeper when it nearly drops down the leg of his pants. When he pulls it out and swipes to his e-mails, he confirms Yoongi’s fear. “Yep. And it seems like he saw you deliver the hug today. Says that he’d prefer that I deliver the hug next time,” Seokjin smirks, enjoying the deep-set frown on Yoongi’s face.

When Seokjin takes a closer look at the order, however, he notices something a little off. “Hold on a sec,” he scrolls to the receipt, scowling when he sees the incorrect amount. “Well, you might be in luck, Yoongi-chi. Looks like loverboy sent the wrong payment. He’s a few dollars short.”

“What?” Yoongi says, for what feels like the tenth time in this entire fic. He grabs Seokjin’s phone, no longer repulsed by where it had been only a few minutes prior. Like Seokjin said, the customer had given the wrong amount, much to both their confusion.

“That’s weird, considering he just ordered a hug today,” Seokjin murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh well. Happens to the best of us. Guess I’ll just have to refund the poor sap.”

“Wait,” Yoongi presses the phone to his chest, preventing Seokjin from taking it. His hyung raises a brow.

“What is it?”

“What if I just… pay you the remaining amount? Then I can also deliver the hug to her and, uhh...” Yoongi mumbles the remaining part, but Seokjin has trained his ears to catch every whisper and mutter for moments just like this. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t perfect his eavesdropping skills to a spy’s degree. That’s right––Seokjin is a sloppy and nosey bitch and he’s not afraid to admit it!

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me?” Seokjin guffaws, pinching Yoongi’s cheeks for good measure. He hisses in response, but Seokjin isn’t afraid of some little kitten. Seokjin is a bigger bitch with a meaner bite. “Is my little Yoongi Woongi seriously offering to deliver another hug to Miss Y/N? How magnanimous of you.”

Yoongi stares at him, stunned for a moment. A few seconds pass before he shakes his head, faux disdain coloring his expression. “That’s right,” Yoongi huffs, detaching himself from Seokjin’s meaty claws. He keeps his gaze averted, like the big stupid tsundere that he is. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! I care about your profits, and I want to make your workload a little lighter! Isn’t that what you want?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Seokjin snickers, poking Yoongi in the tit. He swivels away, skipping merrily away to their parked car. “I’m expecting that cash in my Paypal by the time I get to the car, or else the deal is off. Make it snappy, loverboy!”

Yoongi had never transferred cash to someone so quickly in his life.

(Yes, not even when the food court on campus was doing a BOGO promo for churros. That’s the extent of how whipped his ass is, period.)

x x x x x

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

“Listen, I’m seriously not forcing you to do this,” Seokjin starts, even though he’s giving his utmost effort to further embarrass Yoongi by handing out flyers about Hug-o-gram’s newest employee. “Please, take one!” he cajoles, offering a flyer to a gaggle of giggling freshmen. “Make sure to reserve a hug within the week! Yoongi-chi over here is on his way to becoming employee of the month if he gets ten requests by Friday!” They all point and whisper at Yoongi, and he swears he hears one of them wolf whistle in admiration.

“That’s what makes this entire thing terrible. I’m doing this on my own volition, and I absolutely abhor myself for it,” Yoongi moans, grabbing Seokjin’s stack of flyers and smacking himself in the head with them. It probably would’ve hurt more when Seokjin still had a full-stack, but people had swarmed them the moment they entered the heart of the campus, everyone curious to see Yoongi in his interesting attire.

Seokjin might have been famous for creating the Hug-o-gram Service, but Yoongi was famous for hating the business idea, so it’s easy to understand why everyone was interested. (For good reason, he thinks darkly to himself.)

“Damn, Yoongi-chi. Looks like you’re trending on the campus Reddit page,” Seokjin laughs, wheezing even harder when Yoongi points him with a murderous glare. “What? Like you said, this was all your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to wear… whatever this is!” Yoongi whines, tugging on the string around his neck. The cardboard sign had been ready and prepared the moment they arrived home the other day, arousing Yoongi’s suspicions on Seokjin’s actual involvement in his current predicament. Those suspicions are put in the backburner for now, however, as Yoongi actually feels like he might die of embarrassment instead of the packets of MSG coursing through his veins from the ten ramen packs he ate this morning. Maybe both will kill him, if he’s lucky.

“Well, I would love to lend you my uniform, but I haven’t gotten a t-shirt printed with your face on it yet, so you’ll have to deal with the kitten ears and cardboard sign for now,” Seokjin says, patting him on the back. “Or, would you rather I have you wear a shirt with my face on it? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’d rather swallow a Tide pod, thanks,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, let’s move. We’ve been standing in the middle of campus like street clowns for long enough. We need to find Y/N because her class is about to end.”

“Street clowns, huh? I guess you are only missing the make-up to complete the look, especially since you seem adamant to keep honking your way through that sickening crush of yours.” Seokjin nearly catches a punch to the head, but his superior reaction time saves him from Yoongi’s sorely lacking physicality. He snatches Yoongi by the hand, dragging them towards your lecture hall. “C’mon, clown! Let’s honk this bread!”

As the two of them get closer to where you are, Yoongi’s heartbeat begins to accelerate. He wonders idly if he should see a doctor after all this, hoping that he hadn’t actually contracted heart disease due to all this stress. Lord forbid that he meet his end before he even gets to ask you out or something!

Even though he’s already hugged you once (and it was, by far, the most euphoric experience of his sad, miserable life), he still finds himself getting clammy hands at the thought of seeing you again. Nevermind the fact that he looked like a walking circus with his get-up… No, Yoongi refuses to think about it anymore, lest his last remaining brain wrinkle irreversibly smoothens.

The campus clock rings loudly, signaling the end of another block of classes. Students rush out of the buildings, with you being one of the first ones out for a change. When Yoongi spots your head of hair among the crowd, he doesn’t immediately notice what you’re wearing at first. In fact, it’s Seokjin who stops in his tracks for a moment, surprised by how you look.

“Woah, Y/N! Looking good,” Seokjin greets, rushing past Yoongi to envelop you in a hug. (A platonic hug, Yoongi reminds himself. Because unlike Yoongi, Seokjin is a normal human being who can give hugs to anyone he wants because he’s… fucking Seokjin! Lucky bastard that he is.)

“Woah!” You laugh, surprised by the sudden hug. You pat him on the back giddily, allowing him to swing you around a little. “What’s this all about? Am I getting a hug-o-gram again?”

“Yes, you are. But not from me,” Seokjin detaches himself from you, scooting away to point at Yoongi. When Seokjin moves away, Yoongi finally understands why his hyung had said you looked good. No, that was an understatement––you looked [redacted].

(For the sake of the author’s fragile ash-coated heart, she has chosen to redact Yoongi’s exact words to protect herself from slamming her head against a keyboard from how cheesy this fic is becoming. Let’s just say the word starts with a B and ends with an L. Make of that as you will.)

You must have come out of an interview or presentation of sorts because you were dressed more nicely than you usually do, which is a pretty big deal considering how put together you always looked. Your hair is styled nicely, obviously given much more care and effort than your regular appearance. You’re wearing a cute little black dress, long enough to be professional but short enough to give Yoongi breathing problems.

If Yoongi’s brain had a playlist, it would be nothing but the sound of him going HNNNNNNNNNG on repeat.

“Oh geez.” Yoongi curses lowly, smiling through the pain. This is fine, he thinks, even though it is clearly not fine. Yoongi has always been a terrible liar.

“Yoongi?” You sound incredulous, though that’s honestly a win in Yoongi’s book considering everything. You didn’t look disgusted, so that’s great. “You look…” You stop yourself, covering your mouth to hide your grin but your amusement is palpable. At least he made you laugh, he supposes.

“Like a fucking idiot? You said it,” Yoongi snorts, arms crossed defiantly. He’s trying to look intimidating, but with his cheeks puffed up and these abominable kitten ears on his head, he looks more like a grumpy cat throwing a tantrum. He juts a thumb at Seokjin, “Thank this himbo for the outfit. I definitely would have chosen something more… inconspicuous.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You quip, still trying to mask your giggles. On the other hand, Seokjin was wheezing like a hyena, his phone pulled out and presumably filming Yoongi to add to his cringe compilation.

“Exactly what I said!” Seokjin says through his laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He walks back to Yoongi, pushing him forward until he’s face to face with you. “Go on, then! We haven’t got all day!”

“I’m assuming you’re officially part of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram business now?” you ask, opening your arms wide to accept his hug. Like the beta male that he is, Yoongi has to be the one to follow in your footsteps, meekly coming closer to wrap you in an embrace.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yoongi mutters, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. He feels you vibrate with laughter, bringing a small smile on his own face. He likes making you laugh, always has.

With the cardboard sign serving as a barrier between the two of you, he isn’t as fearful of you feeling the erratic beat of his heart, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess if you looked at him. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your hug rather than just panic through the entire ordeal like yesterday.

Soon enough, you’re detaching yourself from him, still standing close. Your arm is just a hair’s breadth away, and if not for Seokjin enthusiastically videotaping this entire experience, Yoongi might have closed in for another hug if he could manage.

“It’s always nice to get a hug from someone you like, huh?” You say, cheeks tinted a rosy color. The true meaning of your words flies over Yoongi’s head, as his feeble mind chooses to focus on your comment a little differently.

“I––Of course I like you! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Yoongi laughs nervously, unaware that he’s slowly digging himself into a ditch. To the side, Seokjin audibly slaps a hand to his face, body shivering with secondhand embarrassment from being blasted by the full force of how idiotic his friend actually is.

Yoongi sees you deflate a little, further confusing him. “Yeah, you’re right I guess…” You sigh, taking a step backward dejectedly. Yoongi flounders a little, unsure how he managed to fuck up in just a few seconds when you had just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Choosing now to interfere before the going gets rough, Seokjin steps in between and slings an arm around both of you. Yoongi groans under the weight of his arm, glaring when he notices that Seokjin had done it on purpose, but only to him. You don’t look too bothered by his rude gesture, albeit you were more befuddled than before.

“Hey, Y/N! I don’t know if you’ve ever ordered a hug-o-gram before, but I’m doing a special this week! Now that Yoongi-chi has so kindly joined the team,” Seokjin gives him a pointed look, to which the black-haired music major sticks his tongue out petulantly, “we’re doing a little promotion for first-time customers! Would you be interested in ordering one?”

Your eyes widen, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “M-me? Ordering a hug-o-gram? Well, I…” you hesitate, sending a small glance at Yoongi before looking away in embarrassment. “I would like to, but I don’t know if it’ll be well received, you see…”

Seokjin grumbles, silently cursing the stupid shithead who caused his own demise in the first place. The worst part is that he had no idea that he totally just friendzoned you! YOU! Someone who was literally leagues ahead of him. He sincerely has no idea what you see in this bumbling idiot, but everyone with a brain knows that you have been crushing on him for as long as he’s been crushing on you, so perhaps you’re a little bit of an idiot yourself for liking him back.

Being friends with the two of you makes him feel like he’s constantly wearing a sloppy wet diaper, and he hates it. He wants to wipe his ass as soon as possible!

Seokjin shoves Yoongi away roughly, ignoring his indignant squawks as he pulls you aside. He takes you by the hand, taking you a few steps away from Yoongi, far enough that he can whisper into your ear without the other boy hearing.

Yoongi fumes from the sidelines, trying to keep his emotions in check even though he’s bursting at the seams with jealousy. Not for the first time, Yoongi irritably realizes that he does act like a cat, especially in moments like this. He might make fun of Seokjin for being an attention whore, but Yoongi is the same, if only at a smaller scale. He just wants you to look at him, as selfish as that sounds.

Can someone give him a break? He’s been holding in his crush for four years now… Imagine having to take a massive shit after drinking two gallons of milk while being lactose intolerant, except every time you line up for the washroom, the line gets increasingly long no matter how long you wait. That is the extent of his suffering, he tells himself. So please, excuse his dramatics for this one instance.

(Seokjin’s Note: This fucking jackass is SO stupid. If he only knew how easy it is to ask you out, he would know that his emotional constipation could be solved if he just fucking ASKED where the next washroom is. He could have relieved himself ages ago, but NO! And he calls me the idiot! Me! The utter betrayal! I’m never agreeing to become the second lead to a rom-com ever again!)

When Seokjin finishes whispering in your ears, you appear amused by what he had said. Yoongi sweats when you turn to face him, grinning slyly at him. “Is that so…” you wonder aloud. Yoongi feels like the world has shifted on its axis somewhat, though he still doesn’t know exactly how. He has a hunch that he’s going to find out soon enough.

“Would I ever lie to you?” Seokjin laughs that annoying laugh of his, slapping his thigh in the process. He straightens up almost immediately, his expression turning deadpan in an instant. “Send me the details by tonight, and I’ll make sure to deliver it, okay?”

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up towards him. Yoongi might have let out a high pitched sob when he sees the gesture, wanting nothing more than to cup your hands in his. God, if he already nearly died from hugging you, who is to say Yoongi won’t immediately disintegrate if you were ever to hold his hand?

“Promise,” Seokjin replies, linking his pinky with yours. He doesn’t forget to point a shit-eating grin at Yoongi, for good measure.

You pull away, looking happier than you did moments prior. You were absolutely glowing, filling Yoongi with a warmth that only you ever knew how to provide. He wants to make you smile like that all the time, wants nothing more than for you to live beside him, filling his walls with the sound of your tinkling laughter. You wave cheerily at the both of them, stepping away to head home. “I guess I’ll see you, then? I’ll make sure to e-mail you my request, Seokjin!” you say, winking teasingly. “Bye to you too, Yoongi! Thanks for the hug!”

Yoongi watches as you walk further and further away as the usual melancholy that follows whenever you leave soon takes its place in his soul. It might be his imagination, but Yoongi thinks the cat ears on his head might have started to droop to match his mood.

The only way he knows how to replace the sadness, however, is by redirecting those emotions on an unsuspecting victim. Lucky for him, a willing volunteer is already within punching distance.

“Ow! Stop punching me, you gremlin!” Seokjin whines, blocking Yoongi’s series of punches like a pro. He might as well put ‘professional punching bag’ on his resume at this point. “I’m trying to help you, you useless beta male!”

“How is this helping! You made me wear cat ears and whispered blasphemies into Y/N’s ears! Now she’s going to order a hug-o-gram for her crush and it’ll be the end of my chances with her! How could you!”

“I was not whispering blasphemies, you twittering tit! I was giving her advice,” Seokjin sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t say I never help you, by the way. I’ve been trying to help you for years now.”

Yoongi hits him with a steely glare. “Really? So replacing all my clothes in my closet with clown attire is your version of help? I had to wear those stupid clown shoes for a week before you told me where you hid my clothes, jackass!”

“I was only trying to help you physically express yourself! You’re already a clown on paper, might as well help you achieve your final form!” Seokjin huffs, infuriatingly haughty. “Listen, believe me. I only told Y/N something that everyone already knows anyway, so just shut your trap and let Daddy handle the rest. You’re not going to lose her, I promise.”

“Please never refer to yourself as Daddy ever again,” Yoongi seethes, stalking off towards their car. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“No talk, Yoobie angy…” Seokjin snickers to himself, following Yoongi with a spring in his step. This bastard is going to grovel at his feet by tomorrow evening, he’s sure of it. If he doesn’t, then Seokjin will bite his own dick in half––that’s how sure he is of his plan! (Not that biting his dick in half will do anything to his length; he’d still be left with eight inches, let’s be real.) All in good time.

x x x x x

Seokjin gets an e-mail the next morning, much earlier than any sane person would choose to be awake at. He groans lowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to read the contents of the letter. When he’s satisfied by what he has read, he forwards the e-mail to Yoongi before allowing sleep to take him once more.

Sleep evades him, however, when the sound of Yoongi’s big feet pounds noisily outside his bedroom. He hits his knee loudly against the coffee table, causing their beloved popcorn machine to tumble to the floor, but that is of little consequence to Yoongi right now. No, he needs to get into Seokjin’s room right now and scream––

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Yoongi hollers, slamming Seokjin’s door open. The hinges creak, desperately hanging on despite the impact. Yoongi proceeds to slam a fist upon Seokjin’s ass, who barely flinches due to the fatness of his ass cushioning most of the damage. He blinks blearily at Yoongi, but the smirk on his face is clear as day.

“Came to claim your hug so early in the morning? Well, I usually don’t entertain clients until after I’ve taken a shower, but for you… I’ll make an exception,” he yawns, peeling back his blanket and patting the empty spot on his bed. “Come on in, Yoobie Boobie… Let’s hug like it’s the last day on earth.”

Seokjin fails to realize that once he removed his blanket, he had inadvertently left himself vulnerable. Yoongi slams the heel of his foot against Seokjin’s groin, causing him to shriek bloody murder at 7 AM. He wonders, amidst his pain, whether this might be the last straw and that their landlord will finally kick them out after years of their stupid shenanigans.

“WHAT DID THAT E-MAIL MEAN? IF IT’S WHAT I THINK IT IS…” Yoongi threatens, but it’s as empty as Seokjin’s butthole. They both know the implications of that e-mail, even a toddler can put two and two together and make sense out of it. Anonymous e-mail or not, Seokjin wouldn’t just forward any hug-o-gram request to Yoongi, unless…

What did the e-mail say? It goes something like:

Dear Mr. Kim,

Thank you for offering your special promotion for new time customers of your Hug-o-gram Service! I’ve always been a quiet fan of your business idea, but I’ve always been a little shy to submit a request of my own. Thank you so much for giving me the little push that I needed to send my first (and hopefully last) hug.

I’d like to send a hug to Mr. Min Yoongi from the Music Department. I understand that he has recently been appointed an employee at your business, but seeing as how it’d be difficult for him to hug himself (while not entirely impossible), I’d like to request that you be the one to send the hug to him.

I don’t really have a message for him, per se… I’m still a little shy, even though you already told me that there is no reason to be. I want to believe what you said was true, so I’m pushing my fear aside and putting my fate into your hands. So, to Mr. Min Yoongi… “When I told you it was nice to hug someone you like, I don’t think you understood what I meant. A hug, after all, is a two-way street. They’re often served the best when it is reciprocated, if you catch my drift. :)”

Peace! :3

Regards,

[Redacted] [Redacted]

“Have your brain synapses finished connecting? Because if even this flies over your head, I’m sorry to say buddy but… You might have smooth brain syndrome,” Seokjin pipes up. He observes Yoongi’s brow crumpling, the first signal of his impending mental breakdown. If Seokjin remembers correctly, the next signal should be when––

Yoongi drops down to his knees, his phone clattering to the floor as he stares absently at the ceiling. Seokjin cringes, worried for the state of his friend’s frail kneecaps. The poor sap has bad heart health already; surely, it isn’t too early to get him a life alert button?

Seokjin scooches over his bed, dangling half his body over the edge to appraise his friend. “So. What do you plan to do now?”

For a moment, Yoongi remains silent. Eventually, he shuffles closer to him, perching his hands around Seokjin. The business student raises a brow, confused, until Yoongi pushes Seokjin back onto the middle of the bed so that he can cram himself beside Seokjin on his small double bed. He huffs amusedly, allowing the smaller boy to snuggle into his chest, though he still refuses to wrap his arms around him. Close enough, Seokjin snorts.

“I need your help, hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is small, shy. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Seokjin immediately softens. They might act like toddlers together the majority of the time, but Seokjin truly does care about Yoongi more than anything. During early mornings like this, when the sun’s soft rays are filtering through his sheer curtains and filling the room with a gentle warmth, it’s nice to cuddle up with one another and enjoy the silence. In fact, Seokjin would never admit it to Yoongi, but he got the idea for his Hug-o-gram service from Yoongi himself, back when the younger boy would be more prone to sneaking into his bed during his bouts of loneliness and homesickness.

Above all else, Yoongi is just a boy with a lot of love to give, so who is Seokjin to say no to his pleas for help?

“You know I always got your back, Yoongi-chi. Whenever you’re ready, we can do whatever you want. Ask and you’ll receive,” he replies, caressing his soft black tresses. Yoongi hums, smiling softly into his chest.

“Thanks, dude. For being… you know.”

Seokjin’s heart pangs a little, but he ignores it. Instead, he continues combing through his hair, humming gently. “I know.”

x x x x x

It’s been a few days since you sent the e-mail to Seokjin and you haven’t heard back from him. You aren’t sure if he sends confirmation e-mails to his clients as you’d never asked for a hug-o-gram before, nor did you know anyone who has. You are forced to continue on with your days like normal, trying to ignore the unsettling anxiety from creeping up your throat and spewing all over the sidewalk.

If Seokjin hadn’t been lying to you, then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’ve been harboring this crush on Yoongi for years now, and you never thought in your life that it would ever be reciprocated. He always seemed a little bit detached, a little too cool for you. Never mind the fact that he always seemed so jittery around you, like it was hard to talk to you or something!

Your answer comes on the last day of the week, after an especially rough day at class. Your back is bent, having finished a grueling four hour lab period where you did nothing but stand and stare at your reaction vessel spinning without any signal of change. You are just a little bit hangry from all the stress piling up on your plate, especially since you hadn’t eaten a decent meal since breakfast at 8 AM.

In short, life isn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped for your senior year, but you can’t let the blues get to you too soon. After all, there are leftover chicken wings in your fridge with your name on it, and nothing beats your meat more than greasy poultry to end a terrible week.

You’re only inches away from sliding your keycard to open your shared dorm room when the door opens without prompting. You flinch backward, yelping loudly when your roommate Park Jimin grins slyly from the doorway––never a good sign, if you knew anything.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jimin says, leaning casually against the door like he hadn’t just scared the living shit out of you. He takes one glance at your disheveled hair and lightly sweaty clothes before grimacing in disgust. “Girl, I can’t let you meet the love your life while you’re looking like that. Come on, we have a few minutes before he arrives. Let’s get you freshened up.”

“I’m sorry?” You squeak, allowing your roommate to manhandle you into your own home. He pushes you into your room, depositing you roughly onto your unmade bed. You try to make eye contact with him, but he’s too busy raiding your closet to pay you much attention. “Excuse me? What did you say just now?”

“No time, princess! Your Prince Charming is on the way, and I’ve been ordered by Seokjin to prepare you for this life-changing moment, so get your ass into gear and change into this!” He shoves a clean pair of jeans and a nicer-looking blouse at you before proceeding to grab your hairbrush and comb your tresses with the gentleness of a mother tigress. You shriek when the brush gets tangled in an especially stubborn knot, but Jimin is relentless. He nearly tears your hair by the roots, ignoring your pained whines.

“Will you fucking stop! I have literally no idea why you’re acting like a psycho all of a sudden–” You shout when Jimin begins to undress you, having to kick him in the chest to get him away from completely eradicating your remaining traces of dignity. “Okay, fine! I’ll dress myself! Just get out of my room and fucking stay away!”

Jimin looks at you dubiously for a split second, before eventually acquiescing. “You have two minutes to get changed. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” he says, smirking knowingly. He better dread the day that you finally wipe that annoying twinkle in his eye; it’s been a long time coming.

Left alone to your own devices, you do as Jimin says even though you’re still wildly confused by everything. To think you had been so excited to feast on your chicken wings, and instead, you went through a decade’s worth of torture within the last few minutes. Patting your hands on the butt of your jeans, you meekly take a step out of your bedroom, where Jimin is already tapping his foot impatiently by the door.

He motions for you to hurry up. “Let’s go! Seokjin says they’re rounding up the corner. Hold on,” he steps closer to you, raising your arm up to take a shameless sniff of your pits. “Sorry, had to make a pit stop. You can never be too sure,” he shrugs, disregarding your squawks of indignation.

“I smell fine! Now what are we–” Your sentence is cut short as Jimin all but carries you to the elevator, your shrieks of terror causing one or two of your neighbors to peek their heads out of their doors. When they see it’s just the two of you, they simply shrug their shoulders, returning to their lives like it was normal to see Jimin carry you in a fireman’s hold.

He doesn’t put you down until you reach the lobby of your dorm complex, barely out of breath despite having held you the entire way down. Stupid buff baby, you groan internally to yourself, straightening down your clothes in a desperate attempt to look decent. “Okay, we’re here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?”

In lieu of an answer, Jimin points wordlessly outside your building. A black car is parked on the other side of the road, and you can barely see a familiar head of hair poking out from the driver’s seat. “Seokjin? What the…” you trail off, before your eyes finally land on their target.

Yoongi stands outside the glass doorway, not dressed in his usual all-black attire. He’s wearing an outrageously cute pink shirt today, matching the color of his natural flush. He always looks effortlessly good, with his hair a little windswept in that boyishly cute way. Your mouth goes a little dry when you realize he’s wearing his famous leather jacket, the one that always got the girls and boys swooning when he walked past in them. You hated how whipped for him you were, not wanting to be like the weird kids in his secret fan club, but who can blame you? He’s just so…

You rip open the door, nearly tripping and falling over the short steps leading to the entrance. You grind to a halt in front of him and you’re acutely aware of how rabid you must look. Your chest is pounding, like your heart is begging you to step closer, just like when you had hugged him all those days ago. God, you were going to kill Park Jimin for this.

“Yoongi? What are you…” You take one look at him before your gaze drops to his hands folded carefully behind his back. It doesn’t hide the fact that there is an obvious bouquet of flowers behind him, though. Your face lights on fire when you notice they were your favorite flowers too.

“I’m here to deliver a hug?” Yoongi says it like he’s unsure of himself, but there’s a little coyness laced in his tone. His cheeks are painted a soft pink, and not for the first time, they remind you of freshly baked bread pulled out from the oven. Soft enough to kiss, you wonder idly to yourself.

“I mean… I did order a hug a few days ago, but I do recall not ordering one for myself?” you laugh a little hysterically, your breath cutting short when Yoongi grins softly in response. “I… Who is this hug from?”

Yoongi takes a glance back towards Seokjin. “Hey, boss. Am I allowed to reveal who the secret admirers are, or will that get me fired?”

Seokjin, despite being a few meters away, laughs loud enough for the whole street to hear. “Well, Yoongi-chi. Something tells me your resignation letter was coming in the mail eventually. Who cares about the rules at this point?”

“He’s right,” you quip, pulling Yoongi’s attention back. You’re smiling wide now, your hopes and dreams skyrocketing in your chest and blooming a garden in your heart. “Who cares, right?”

“Right,” Yoongi agrees, taking the last two steps he needs to get closer to you. He drops the bouquet somewhere behind you before finally, finally, embracing you once more. He kisses you gently on the forehead, the contact short and sweet.

You feel like you’re dying, but it’s all good because Yoongi looks just as embarrassed as you. But none of it matters, not when both your happiness is palpable in the air.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“This hug-o-gram is from me to you. Will you go out with me?”

You’ve always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. So when you lean in to plant your first kiss of many many more, he knows your answer well enough.

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hafanforever · 4 years

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Tyrant Terror

So I know it’s no surprise to my closest friends and fellow Disney fans on Tumblr that I have a strong, deep affinity for villains, including those by Disney. And over the last several months, the more I wrote about King Runeard in my Frozen II analyses, the more I realized what made him a tyrant, albeit a secret one, and that led me to think about other villains in the Disney animated canon who were tyrants.

The thing is, while most historical tyrants were people of royalty, you don’t necessarily have to be a monarch in order to be a tyrant. The definition of a tyrant isn’t limited to being a KING or QUEEN who is openly cruel, hostile, harsh, uncaring, oppressive, persecuting, and unjust towards the people they rule. I mean, that is one way to express tyranny, and probably the most famous way it is and has been done. But what it really means for a person to be called a tyrant is being in a position of power, authority, and/or control over other people and MISUSING, to the point of ABUSING, that position, and often for that tyrant's own selfish desires rather than in the best interest of the people being ruled by the tyrant.

So from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to Frozen II, there are a handful of tyrannical antagonists who are indeed monarchs, such as the Queen of Hearts, Prince John, and Scar, but also plenty others who are not. There are tyrants who are corrupt government officials, such as Governor Ratcliffe, Frollo, and Bellwether, and even those who wield magic, such as Maleficent, Ursula, and Jafar. And like the villainous monarchs, the non-monarch villains prove themselves as tyrants all because they abuse their positions of power, magic or non-magic power, and authority that they have over other characters. In fact, there are even a couple of heroic characters who start off more as protagonist villains because they display tyrannical behavior before they become better people. On the contrary, the main antagonist enemies of these tyrant heroes serve as darker reflections of what the latter characters could have become had they not learned the error of their ways.

Below is my list of all the villains from Walt Disney Animation Studios that I perceive as tyrants, from monarchs to government officials to sorcerers, and what scenes in their respective movies depict them displaying tyrannical behavior. I even listed villains that would have become tyrants had they succeeded in their longterm goals.

Monarchs

The Evil Queen: Though we never see her actively governing her kingdom on screen, the abuse that the evil queen displays in her authority over Snow White by dressing her stepdaughter in rags and forcing her to work as a maid in an attempt to make her (Snow White) unattractive makes her a tyrant for sure. Furthermore, the way she mocks the skeletal remains of a prisoner in her dungeon suggests the queen is indeed a cruel, tyrannical ruler.

Queen of Hearts: If we want to consider the epitome of a true tyrant that is a monarch from Disney, it can be safely assumed that that role belongs to the Queen of Hearts. While every resident of Wonderland is insane in some way, the Queen is the most dangerous one of all by being the ruler of the land. An egotist extraordinaire, she loves to get her way, insisting that “All ways are MY ways!” and enjoys hearing the words “Yes, Your Majesty”. The Queen outwardly abuses her authority and power over her subjects by becoming furious over even the smallest of matters, during which she loses her literally explosive temper and flies into violent rages. She is also extremely irrational and unjust in making decisions, primarily by utilizing executions as her only and immediate solution to any problem, especially whenever she feels someone has wronged her, while also refusing to let the individuals she wants beheaded explain their sides of the stories. Enraged upon seeing her white roses painted red, when she misses a shot in croquet, and when she becomes the target of a prank caused by the Cheshire Cat, the Queen sentences those she deems responsible to death by beheading. All of this proves just how much she persecutes and oppresses the residents of Wonderland, instilling only fear and intimidation into their hearts. (A pun that is VERY much intended by me, the Queen of Puns! 😆😆😆)

Prince John: While possessing a short temper that isn’t nearly as explosive and violent as that of the Queen of Hearts, Prince John is displayed to be extremely incompetent as the ruler of England during the time that King Richard is off fighting in the Crusades. Stingy and greedy, the prince continually finds ways to rob and swindle his people in pursuit of wealth for himself. John shows absolutely no care that the harsh laws he decrees to gain more money drive the citizens of Nottingham into poverty and starvation, and he even cruelly mocks them on their poor states by saying, “Rob the poor to feed the rich!”. After the villagers start making fun of him with the song “The Phony King of England”, John punishes them by further increasing the tax payments. Soon everyone in Nottingham is stripped of their money and they are put in prison due to their inability to pay their taxes.

Horned King: Even though the Queen of Hearts projects herself as the ideal example of a royal tyrant, she is far less evil and scary than the Horned King. A skeletal creature with green, rotting flesh, the Horned King is completely frightening in appearance and in personality. Malicious, cruel, malevolent, sinister, power-hungry, megalomaniacal, ruthless, and merciless, he is the epitome of a tyrant who is nothing but purely and completely evil. His goal is to find the infamous Black Cauldron and use its powers to unleash an army of immortal warriors called the Cauldron Born in order to become immortal and conquer the world.

Scar: Denied a legitimate chance to succeed Mufasa as the King of the Pride Lands once Simba is born, Scar schemes to have both of them killed to become king. After murdering Mufasa and believing that Simba has been killed as well, Scar ascends to the throne. However, because he allows the hyenas unrestricted hunting rights in the Pride Lands, their overeating leads to a shortage of food, and a drought leads to other animal herds moving away. Ultimately, these events turn the kingdom into a barren wasteland under Scar’s reign, leaving it completely devoid of green vegetation, water, and food sources. Incredibly lazy and incompetent as a ruler, and caring about nothing except the power and authority that being king gives him, Scar refuses to accept that his allowance of the hyenas overeating is what leads to the destruction of the Pride Lands. He instead blames it on Sarabi and the other lionesses since the hyenas complained to him that they refuse to go hunt. When she suggests they leave Pride Rock to survive, Scar obstinately rejects the idea, not at all caring that he has essentially sentenced them to death. He argues that his place as king puts him in the right for whatever he decides to do: “I am the king! I can do whatever I want!”

King Runeard: In his life, Runeard openly presented himself as a peaceful, generous leader to the people of Arendelle AND the Northuldra. But Elsa discovers from his snowy manifestation in Ahtohallan that he did not trust the Northuldra just because they followed magic. Despite his kingdom having seen him as a benevolent ruler, the face the figure of Runeard makes as he sneers "of a king!" implies that only really cared about himself as well the power and authority he had in being a king. Therefore, he secretly misused and abused it whenever the opportunity came along. This is displayed perfectly when Runeard had the dam constructed in the Enchanted Forest, presenting it as a gift to the Northuldra. He claimed that it would strengthen their land, but admitted only to the second-in-command that the dam’s effects would be just the opposite. This was all part of Runeard’s subtle plan to destroy the Northuldra, as he feared they would try to usurp him and take over Arendelle using their magical ties.

Government Officials/Authority Figures

Lady Tremaine: Like the evil queen before her, Lady Tremaine has control and authority over Cinderella once the latter’s father dies, and misuses it by turning Cinderella into her servant. Day after day for ten years, Lady Tremaine orders and bosses Cinderella around, forces her to do every single bit of housework and menial task for her and the former’s daughters, and subjects the poor girl to an endless cycle of abuse and torment. When Cinderella is accused by Anastasia of putting Gus under the latter’s teacup, her stepmother refuses to let her explain the truth and unfairly punishes her with extra chores. Later, Lady Tremaine falsely promises Cinderella she may attend the ball if she finds a suitable dress and finishes her chores, but gives her chore after chore to do to keep her from working on her dress. After Cinderella appears wearing the dress her mouse and bird friends fixed up for her, Lady Tremaine subtly and cruelly manipulates Drizella and Anastasia into destroying it so that she can appear to be fair in her side of the bargain (”If you can find something suitable to wear”) while simultaneously keeping Cinderella from going to the ball in the first place. The following morning, when she realizes Cinderella was the mysterious girl who danced with the prince at the ball, Lady Tremaine follows her stepdaughter up to her room and locks her in to prevent her from trying on the glass slipper when the Duke arrives with it.

Sheriff of Nottingham: Despite not being the main antagonist of Robin Hood, the Sheriff of Nottingham is as much of a tyrant over the town as Prince John is to it and the entirety of England. This is because he is abusive, ruthless, and completely unsympathetic towards the people’s poverty and continually demands that they pay their taxes, regardless of what other problems they may have that hinders them from doing so. It is because of the Sheriff’s harsh decree of taxes, and then by that of Prince John once the latter takes up residence in Nottingham, that the town’s citizens are driven into poverty. The cruel, immoral way the Sheriff collects taxes includes forcing out the coins Otto had hidden in his leg cast, not caring that his act was causing the blacksmith pain from his broken leg, confiscating the one farthing Skippy had been given for his birthday and insincerely wishing him a happy birthday, and taking the single farthing that was in the Friar Tuck’s church's poor box and laughing as he did it.

Ratigan: A notorious crime lord, Ratigan is the leader of a gang of thugs comprised primarily of mice, but also including a bat named Fidget, who is his second-in-command. Although they willingly help their boss with his crimes, they also participate out of fear for their own lives. Ratigan is an abusive tyrant to his minions and threatens to feed them to his cat Felicia if they ever do something that angers him, even if it occurs unintentionally. This is shown after one of his drunken thugs calls him a rat during "The World’s Greatest Criminal Mind”, and Ratigan threatens his other minions with the same fate if they do not keep singing. Ratigan’s latest scheme is to take over London by murdering the Mouse Queen during her Diamond Jubilee celebration and secretly replacing her with a lifelike robot. He and his thugs (who are disguised as royal guards) infiltrate Buckingham Palace and kidnap the Queen, who is taken to be fed to Felicia by Fidget. As the Diamond Jubilee takes place, the Robot Queen names Ratigan as her new "Royal Consort", and Ratigan, dressed in an ornate robe, immediately presents himself in front of the gathered citizens of Mousedom, terrifying them. He then proceeds to read over his long list of tyrannical laws, one of which is a heavy tax policy for people he deems "parasites", including the elderly, infirm, and children.

Governor Ratcliffe: A completely unscrupulous and greedy man, Ratcliffe leads John Smith and other sailors on an expedition to Virginia to find gold, but he secretly plans to keep all discovered riches for himself. Upon their arrival to America, he forces all of the settlers to dig around their encampment, but refuses to do any manual labor himself out of his own sheer laziness. When no gold turns up in the searches, Ratcliffe becomes greedily convinced that it is because the Native Americans are hoarding it. He refuses to believe John's claim that there is no gold around the land, claiming that the Powhatans’ land is his land for the taking and that he makes the laws. After John is captured by the Powhatans, as they believed he murdered Kocoum, Ratcliffe takes it as the opportunity to take the non-existent gold from them, but claiming to his men that it is a rescue mission.

Judge Claude Frollo: Perhaps the darkest and most malevolent of all Disney Villains in animation (aside from the Horned King), Frollo uses his position as the Minister of Justice in the city of Paris to enrich himself and persecute anyone and everyone he considers inferior. He especially holds a deep-seated hatred for the gypsies and plots to eradicate them from the city. Despite his dark deeds, Frollo refuses to find any fault within himself and he truly believes he is a good person who is only trying to rid the world of sin and malice. Any time he commits a crime or is about to do one, he makes excuses to justify them, saying he is doing it in the eyes of God and that his victims are the ones who are really at fault. After chasing and murdering Quasimodo’s mother since he believed that the bundle she was carrying was stolen goods, Frollo attempts to murder Quasimodo since he believes the latter’s deformity makes him an unholy demon. Years later, after trapping Esmeralda in Notre Dame and upon discovering that she has escaped, he launches a ruthless manhunt around the city to find her, burning down the houses of anyone suspected of sheltering gypsies (including an innocent miller and his family, who survive thanks to Phoebus’s intervention) and interrogating gypsies who are captured. During the climax, Frollo makes the excuse that Esmeralda has proven herself to be a witch and will be executed by burned at the stake as her sentence.

Hades: The reluctant ruler of the Underworld and Lord of the Dead, Hades abuses his authoritative role by subjecting his lackeys Pain and Panic to harsh mistreatment whenever they fail a task assigned to them and any other time they do or say something that angers their boss. The two imps only put up with Hades’s abuse not so much out of loyalty to him, but out of deep fear for him. When he discovers that the two did not succeed in killing Hercules as a baby, Hades furiously grabs both Pain and Panic by their necks and chokes them as he demands they explain themselves. Later, after Hercules becomes a famous hero in Thebes, Pain and Panic adorn themselves with some of the hero’s merchandise, much to their boss’s complete ire.

Shan Yu: The ruthless yet respected leader of the Hun army, Shan Yu is an extremely dark, merciless, and dangerous individual determined to take control of China. His thought-to-be impossible feat of getting through the Great Wall to invade China soon makes him notorious and feared throughout the entire country. In his journey to the Imperial City, Shan Yu and his army destroy one village, then slaughter the entire Imperial Army and residents in another village at the Tung Shao Pass in the mountains. He and five of his elite soldiers are the only ones who survive a snow avalanche caused by Mulan. When the group arrives at the Imperial City and take control of the palace, Shan Yu orders the Emperor to bow to him, and decides to kill him when the latter adamantly refuses to do so.

Turbo: Initially believed to be the ruler of the game Sugar Rush, King Candy is secretly Turbo, a racer from the old game TurboTime who was believed to have died after his game was permanently unplugged. Having stolen the throne from Vanellope Von Schweetz, the true ruler, Turbo turns her into a glitch and makes himself the ruler of her kingdom. While he is viewed as eccentric and flamboyant, yet jovial and benevolent, to his subjects, Turbo is extremely obsessive and possessive of his new royal status. He continuously lusts for power and authority and goes to great lengths to secretly abuse his position, not just by allowing the other racers to ruthlessly torment Vanellope, but especially by keeping Vanellope from racing so that she cannot regain the role he had stolen from her.

Bellwether: The epitome of the famous phrase “a wolf in sheep’s clothing”, Dawn Bellwether pretends to be sweet, meek, and friendly to successfully hide her true prejudiced, ruthless, embittered nature. Initially the overworked assistant mayor of Zootopia to its mayor Leodore Lionheart, Bellwether secretly hates him and all predators, viewing them as nothing more than savage, dangerous monsters. In her scheme to overthrow him, take control of the city, and drive all predators out of Zootopia, Bellwether becomes the leader of a secret organization of sheep terrorists who create a serum from night howlers to turn predators feral. This would give the illusion that they were biologically reverting back to their "primitive savage ways" and eventually be regarded as too dangerous for society, allowing only prey animals to take up the entire population. However, in her goal to become the mayor of Zootopia, rather than subjecting Lionheart to becoming savage, Bellwether instead develops her plot to ensure that he is removed from office and his positive reputation amongst the citizens is ruined, allowing her to rise to power in his place.

Magic Users

Maleficent: Known as The Mistress of All Evil, Maleficent is a ruthless tyrant who rules her own subjects at her home, the Forbidden Mountain. Using her dark magic, she continuously abuses her power and authority over her minions, particularly whenever they display incompetence and stupidity. This is shown when Maleficent flies into a rage and attacks them with her magic upon realizing that, over the last 16 years in their search for Aurora, they were only looking for a baby, not realizing in their idiocy that Aurora would be growing up.

Ursula: Known for her dark reputation as a sea witch, Ursula was banished from Atlantica by Triton. She explains in “Poor Unfortunate Souls” that she uses her magic to help merfolk attain their deepest desires and only imprisons them if they can’t keep their side of the bargain. However, after she takes Ariel’s voice away and turns the latter into a human to try and win Eric’s heart, Ursula reveals she has no intention of letting Ariel follow through with kissing Eric to remain human. She proves herself to be a tyrant because all she really does is backstab the merpeople with whom she makes deals in order to ensure that only HER desires are met! When she bargains with Triton so he will surrender himself to her in exchange for Ariel’s freedom, Ursula steals his crown and trident, then grows to giant size, declaring herself the ruler of the entire ocean.

Jafar: Unbeknownst to the Sultan of Agrabah, his Royal Vizier Jafar plots to take control of the kingdom, and he needs the Genie of the lamp from the Cave of Wonders to pull off this feat. Once the lamp is in his possession, Jafar succeeds with his first to become sultan. But after Jasmine and her father refuse to bow to him, he wishes to become the most powerful sorcerer in the world to have an even greater amount of power. During his brief reign, Jafar proves himself to be a tyrant by turning Agrabah into a dystopian wasteland, dressing the Sultan as a living marionette and allowing him to be abused by Iago, and making Jasmine his own slave girl.

Tyrants-Turned-Heroes

The Beast: From the time he is cursed and until he finally starts to soften, the spoiled behavior the prince had before his curse remains. He is aggressive, rude, impatient, and frequently and easily loses his temper when something annoys or irritates him. Primarily due to his short temper, the Beast acts like a tyrant towards his servants because he is mean and cruel to them as he gives them orders, which makes them deeply afraid of him. Only on some occasions do they openly rebel against him or talk back to him, such as Mrs. Potts ordering the Beast to act more like a gentleman around Belle, and both her and Lumiere deciding to feed Belle despite being told that she was not allowed to eat unless she ate with the Beast.

Kuzco: In the beginning, Kuzco is very arrogant, lazy, selfish, and self-absorbed, viewing himself as superior to all simply for being the emperor. He rules his empire completely without the best interest of his people and always seeks to have his way, never showing any concern over the chances things could turn out badly for other people involved. This is shown when he sets his sights on building his summer home of Kuzcotopia on the top of the hill where Pacha, Pacha’s family, and other villagers reside. Since the plan will only benefit himself, Kuzco shows absolutely no care or concern that destroying Pacha’s village to build Kuzcotopia will render the residents homeless.

Would-Be Tyrants

Gaston: From what I described about him in “Bride and Prejudice” with his growing obsession with Belle and his low, inferior views of women, there is no doubt in my mind that, had Gaston succeeded in marrying Belle and starting a family with her, he would have run his household like a tyrant. He would be very controlling to the point of being physically abusive to his wife in order to get her to obey every single one of his commands and orders. Like many of the tyrants I listed above, Gaston would undoubtedly use fear and intimidation to keep his wife in her proper place of being beneath him, and he would instill these same feelings on to his own children.

Yzma: Her ire drawn after Kuzco remorselessly fires her, a furious Yzma decides to kill him so that she can take over the empire. While Kuzco is initially selfish, callous, and uncaring towards his staff and people living in his empire, he learns to change his ways by the end of the film. Had Yzma succeeded in her goal, she would have been far more of a selfish, ruthless tyrant than Kuzco was at first. This is evident during her introduction scene, which is one of many times she governs the empire whenever Kuzco is not present. As a peasant complains to her that he and his family are suffering from limited food sources, Yzma spitefully says his problem is of no concern to her, and that the man should have realized this ahead of time.

Hans: While taking over as temporary ruler of Arendelle in both Elsa and Anna’s absence, Hans wins the hearts of the people by acting as a kind, caring, benevolent ruler during the harsh conditions brought on by Elsa’s magical winter. Though he reveals his true, dark nature to Anna and his plot to take control of Arendelle, the fact that he earned the trust and respect of the Arendellians suggest that Hans could truly have been a very worthy ruler. However, now that we have Frozen II and it revealed that Runeard was actually a malevolent tyrant behind the same kind of benevolent facade that Hans used, there is no doubt in my mind that had he succeeded in stealing Arendelle’s throne, Hans also would have become a ruthless, power-hungry, selfish tyrant in secret.

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peepspersonalperspective · 4 years

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MY PICKS: Top 10 K-Dramas

Disclaimer: These are totally subjective choices and I've justified them as per my preferences. Consider them friendly recommendations and let me know if you disagree. Also, I've discovered the wonderful world of K-Dramas over the last couple of years and they've really evolved not just in storytelling but also production value so I personally prefer the more recent ones. So for example I haven't put a very popular pick like My Love from the Star simply because I've seen better stuff since (don't shoot me). Anyway, 가자!

MEMORIES OF ALAHAMBRA

This is my first recommendation for anyone who's just starting out watching Korean television content simply because it's so different from what new viewers expect it to be. It's so gripping and thrilling. I would expect nothing less from Song Jae Jung's writing.

So it's a sci-fi show, set in Spain, about an augmented reality game, that seems to have physical implications in the real world, sending the lead, Hyun Bin on a rollercoaster ride to find answers. Exo's Chanyeol has a recurring role as the game developer, so that's exciting too. I learnt that he was cast because of his love for PubG. Lol.

Every episode will leave you wanting more, and you'll find yourself as desperate to search for answers as Yoo Jin Woo (Hyun Bin).

Granted, mid season, it gets a little complicated, especially with newer nuances of the game unfolding, but fret not because the characters are discovering the secrets of the game with you. So they're as confused as you would be, and that's why this show is so good! More so because the graphics are excellent! You can tell they really spent money on ensuring high quality work. You will really feel like you're part of the game with Yoo Jin Woo.

Anyway, if you are an EXO-L, or you like gaming, sci-fi, thriller and Hyun Bin, this show is great!

2. W - Two Worlds

Another piece of awesome from Song Jae Jung. I would still rank this show a little below Alahambra, because I think the makers made improvements from this sci-fi drama in Alahambra, in the sense of storytelling. Still, W is just as intriguing.

Oh Yeon Joo (Han Hyo Joo) gets sucked into a comic book where she falls in love with the lead character of the comic book, Kang Chul (Lee Jeong Suk). Sounds like a typical romance drama right? Don't be fooled because there are many many twists and turns along the way.

I feel like there is metaphor in there somewhere about existentialism, the creation and destiny. But maybe that's just me reading into things.

Lee Jeong Suk is extremely desirable as Kang Chul, unsuspectingly charming and endearing, and Oh Yeon Joo is an absolutely relatable character, and how she deals as an ordinary girl thrown into extraordinary circumstances is genuine.

I would say this drama is wholesome, with sci-fi, suspense, thriller, action, romance, filial relationships, and more. And while it's usually difficult to jam pack all this into one show without screwing it up, W emerges exceptional.

3. Extraordinary You

This show is so cute! If you want just a light hearted, quirky show, this is the one for you.

It's about characters in a cartoon becoming aware of their existence in a cartoon. But don't worry this is NOTHING like W.

The best part about the show is that it's not about the main characters of the said cartoon. It's the story about the extras finding their way in that world, hence the pun intended in the title. The main characters (of the cartoon) are actually the most dull, because they are bound by the laws of stereotypical high school romance. But the real stuff is happening on the sidelines, with Kim Hye Yoon as Dan Oh and Rowoon as Haru.

Dan Oh is a hilarious character and Kim Hye Yoon does a fantastic job of switching emotions when she's in and out of a scene in the cartoon. One minute she goes into character mode, next minute she's bitching at the sorry fate of her character when she wakes up, to the astonishment of the characters surrounding her (who aren't aware of their reality yet).

Rowoon has a quiet charm about him that perfectly complements Hye Yoon. Check it out for a chuckle and a taste of something different.

4. Crash Landing on You

This show is hard not to like. Apart from the poorly picturized tornado carrying our leading lady over the border to North Korea, this show is a wonderful Netflix and Chill kind of show, I think.

The cultural disparity between the South and North is interesting to watch and also entertaining. Like when they mention buying mobile games at an App store (a literal application store in a Pyongyang market).

Ri Jung Hyuk (Hyun Bin again) and Yoon Seri (Son Yejin) are such a delight in comedic, romantic, and dramatic scenes. But the scene stealer for me was Yang Kyun Won as Pyo Chi Soo, and his unshakeable nationalism that he is ready to set aside for some shampoo and conditioner.

The interesting thing is going into the show, you have an idea of the longevity, so ofcourse, Seri's journey back to the South ain't going to be easy, also her relationship with Ri Jung Hyuk is doomed, and yet you find yourself rooting for them at each step, crying with them during their failures and crying with them even in their triumph. But the most tears were shed for the least expected character, who simply left us all heart broken.

5. Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo

In a world where women are expected to behave and look a certain way to be considered attractive by someone they're vying for, here's a food hogging, tomboy, weightlifting champ, with her first crush.

The premise may rope you into the show, but midway you realise that the heart of the show is in its characters, and without realising you become so invested in them that you feel their fears, insecurities, and cherish their victories with them.

This coming of age show really relishes on the quirks of each character, friendship, love and aspirations. It's not a very dramatic story which is probably why it didn't rate very high during its broadcast, but that's part of its charm, and that's why it's been able to gather a significant cult following since.

Lee Sung Kyung and Nam Joo Hyuk portray the most sincere friends and eventual couple. Their relationship blossoms in the most organic manner and it's so heartwarming. They're not cheesy or unrealistic; they even beat each other up! I don't think I've seen that level of comfort portrayed on screen so well before.

Watch out for guest appearances by Ji Soo and Lee Jeong Suk.

6. Strong Girl Do Bong Soon

I'll be honest, this recommendation is mainly for Park Hyung Sik. He's amazing in the show. And there could be no better supernaturally strong petite girl than Park Bo Young, either.

So there are actually a lot of things happening in the show, story wise, but I promise it all comes together in the end. There is quite a build up and I'm happy that it pays off adequately.

This is like a superhero show with all the spices and flavours of a Marvel movie, but K-Drama style. There's an invincible villain, some idiot gangsters for comedic value, romance (a love triangle infact), functional training, a point of lost hope for Bong Soon, and then her resurrection as a superhero.

It's all there, and more.

But Park Hyung Sik.....

7. Itaewon Class

This recommendation is simply for the refreshing change of representation on TV. I know a lot has already been spoken about it already, but I have to admit that that's what sets this revenge drama apart. That, and the music. Dayum, Start by Gaho is so catchy! And let's not forget V's Sweet Night.

This show starts off slow but give it 3 episodes before it gets to the real shit.

Park Saeroyi is almost too good to be true, and in that lies his shortcoming. His character is so strong that while watching him I forgot that Park Seo Joon was acting. And despite some unnerving moments I found myself rooting for him. He has some strong motivational lines too, like about his choice for a better life. His determination is almost unreal, as he goes on to take down his mortal enemy.

Some of the best scenes, though, are of Jo Yi Seo (Kim Dami), a sociopathic enterprising genius. She was the one who actually kept me hooked to the series. She added some much needed flair to the show, and as it appears to Park Saeroyi's establishment.

Actually, every character was strong, every character had a strong backstory and motivation for the action, and most importantly they never broke character.

Watch out for Park Bo Gum's special appearance.

8. Love In The Moonlight

Speaking of Park Bo Gum...

This show is all kinds of weird in the best way! A girl pretends to be a palace eunuch and falls in love with the crown Prince. That is so messed up!

But that's the fun part! And Park Bo Gum and Kim You Jung make it a wonderful ride. Full of quirky romance, political conflicts and hidden identity issues, this show is addictive af!

And even though this wasn't in the show and was just a promo, be sure to watch Park Bo Gum's Bombastic dance. It's adorable!

9. The Third Charm

I'm sure this is my least popular recommendation. But something about watching this show was so cathartic. I highly recommend it for those who may have gone through heartbreak ever in their lives.

This is probably one of those rare times when I was lost in the story instead of Seo Kang Jun's eyes. Hehe. This story is about an on again off again couple and their journey through life together and apart.

This was meant to be a healing drama, and it really does take you through the emotional evolution that comes with growing up. I think it's the perfect medicine for a healing heart.

10. It's Okay Not To Be Okay

This show! This is my current obsession. Kim Soo Hyun's comeback couldn't have been more perfect. Seo Yeji couldn't have been a more perfect casting. And the two leads couldn't have had a better chemistry.

This show is all kinds of whimsical and I love it. Also a healing drama, this show deals with.... Baggage....to put it simply. Some baggage may be bigger than other baggage, some even irrevocable. But seeing all the characters overcome this baggage is so fulfilling.

But the charm of this show is in Ko Moon Young's (Seo Yeji) craziness and the Tim Burton-esque setup, that really makes one perceive fairytales in a whole new way. I mean I always knew that fairytales were sanitized German folklore, but I never thought to find a very different messaging from the material. The parables are ingenious, and it really is a pleasure to watch each and every person on this show.

Special mentions: Goblin, Reply 1988, 30 but 17/ Still 17, My ID is Gangnam Beauty, Hotel Del Luna

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years

Text

Blessed: A Thor One-Shot

Thor loved being back in the training room with the Avengers. After the Second Snap and the Blip, After Thanos. After getting his life back, it felt better. He felt better. Some of the endless pain and desperate longing lifted off of his chest.

It also brought new challenges. And Frustrations. For instance, the struggle to get his body back to what it had been. He hated to admit it but part of the reason he had adored Midgard was the adoration of its women. And Men. Now though, there was less of it and that irritated him. Still, he reflected, deflecting the team up move that Steve was doing with Tony, it wasn’t the worst. He didn’t hate his new body. He was still strong. And fast. And... And there was you. You didn’t seem to mind his soft middle. Or have any desire for that to change, as long as he was happy. And healthy. But then, you’d never seemed to notice his body before either.

And he did, in fact, really like eating. Midgardian food was leaps and bounds away from Asgard. Ever evolving. So many flavors and textures. He loved being able to sample them all.

Thor had never really known what to make of you. Not even before the snap. He admired you greatly. A Fierce warrior with a surprisingly tender heart, though, he hadn’t been meant to see that part. No one had. Thor could see that night in the back of his mind as he wandered towards the shower. It was snowing outside but that didn’t mean he wasn’t coated in sweat. And all he wanted was out of his armor and into his clean clothes. The warm water reminded him of that night, you’d found him in the shower.

He’d been hurt on a mission. Hurt and he was angry about it. Frustrated at the foolish pride that made him ignore orders. He’d charged headlong into battle and left his comrades vulnerable and scrambling for cover. Steve had been furious and that fury had been well deserved. Thor had studied the gaping wound in his side with detached interest. It would heal. He had no real need of the medical bay he knew. Only if he wanted it to heal without a scar. But this one would be a lesson. A reminder to follow orders. He hadn’t heard you behind him. Going to your locker for something from your kit. This hadn’t been your mission. You had still been healing from the last one. One where you’d put yourself in harm’s way to protect some terrified civilians.

“Thor!” You’d gasped, startled.

“Lady, Y/N,” he said curtly, wiping the blood off this side. “I see you’re recovering well.”

Your cheeks had heated and you looked away. As if he had rebuked you. As if you were ashamed you hadn’t been alongside all of them. He didn’t like that. You were a good fighter. There was no shame in being too injured to fight again. “I’m sorry,” he said, hissing as the corner of the towel brushed his wound. It stung.

You’re at his side in an instant. Unphased by his nakedness which somehow makes him feel more exposed. “May I?” you ask quietly. Thor doesn’t know why but he nods. He finds your presence oddly settling. The way his mother’s had been. “Lie down,” you instruct, “This doesn’t look bad but the creature’s venom seems to be slowing down your healing factor. You’ll bleed to death if I don’t at least put some stitches in.”

Thor complies, feeling his cheeks color. He hadn’t even realized and your keen eye had seen it in an instant. He should have known. You work quickly. Efficiently. A row of neat stitches into his side like it was nothing and he hardly felt it. He was too distracted by the freckles that dot your nose and cheeks. The way your lashes brush your cheeks when you blink. When you finish and help him sit up slowly he wants to kiss you but you’re too busy cleaning up the kit. Carefully wiping up the blood and stripping off your gloves, “You should be fine in a couple days,” you tell him, “But I’d go to medical to get them taken out.”

“Thank you, My lady,” he said, claiming your hand. “What brought you down to bring my rescue?” he asked.

“I needed my coat,” you say, not looking at him.

“Ah, you go to meet a paramour,” he teases, “one your mentor Barton doesn’t approve of.”

“No,” you snort, “Nothing that interesting.”

“For what then?”

“I have Christmas presents to deliver,” you tell him simply.

“It’s the dead of night.”

“All the better to be unseen then. Everyone should be asleep,” You smile and mischief, a childlike sweetness glows in your eyes for a moment. Infectious and warm. He can’t help but smile back, “This is a secret then?”

You wink and shrug into your coat, bundling your hair under your hat simply. “Then it will stay that way,” he chuckles, “Your secret is safe with me.”

He watched you go. Smiling to himself. He didn’t know how many gifts you had to deliver. Or where. But he knew that all over, there was going to be a little bit of magic where there hadn’t been before and the thought warmed him. Christmas brought out the best in some Midgardians. This time of year always had. The darkness drew them closer together. It opened their hearts almost as if to protect them from the horrors of the long nights. Even now. Even now that they didn’t huddle around central fires and make merry in defiance of their shivering.

Even today, years later, as Thor stripped off his armor, he wondered. He wondered if you had gifts to give tonight. If anyone had gifts to give you.

Thor couldn’t get a fix on you. Your face was unchanged but, like so many who had lost five years, time seemed sort of, meaningless. There was nothing of that childlike glee in your face and it stung in a way he couldn’t quite define. Like some fundamental piece of you. A piece of you no one even knew to miss, was gone.

“FRIDAY,” he called, “Could you call a meeting for me? Excluding the lady Y/N?”

“Certainly, Sir,” she chirped, “What message shall I give the others?”

“That we have a friend in need of assistance.”

_____________

“So,” Stark said sipping coffee, “You’re saying you want us to buy and deliver literally hundreds of thousands of gifts and deliver them to poor kids all over the city?”

“Yes,” Thor said.

“And you want us to not say one word to Y/N until we’re doing it?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” he said again.

“Thor,” Natasha cautioned, “This could end really badly. Y/N didn’t really. I mean. It wasn’t a public thing. She did it in someone’s memory. Not as a public spectacle... She’d take lists from shelters and stuff. People whose requests no one took and fill as many of them as she could then drop the stuff off Christmas Eve... It was like. A months-long process getting enough money to do all of it and then hustling to get it all bought.”

Thor frowned and nodded, “Then what do we do?” he asked.

Natasha and Bruce traded looks, “Tony,” Bruce said, “How many shelter’s lists can you get hold of?”

“All of them,” Tony snorted, “Most of them are online.”

“How many did Y/N Usually do?” Bruce asked Natasha.

Natasha sighed, “As many as she could. Usually Seven or Eight. Wherever she could find where her old Clients were, you know? Her people from legal aid. She always felt bad she couldn’t do both jobs.”

“Legal Aid?” Thor asked.

Barton nodded, “It was her other life, you know? Before she was a science experiment she was a bright little legal eagle helping get people out of shitty leases and going after bad bosses. Then the accident happened and. Well. SHIELD sent me out to go get her.”

Thor nodded, “Does anyone know why she does this?”

Natasha smiled a little, “Her Grandma,” she said, “Every year on Christmas Eve they did volunteer work.”

“Can we find the woman?”

The spy shook her head, “She’s been dead 10 years now,” she said, “Died before Y/N finished law school.”

“Why is this so important?” Bruce asked gently, mindful that Thor is getting upset. That he doesn’t understand that you might not want help.

“She is sad,” he stated simply. You had always been hard for Thor to get a fix on. Friendly but uninterested in him. He’d only gotten one small glimpse into who you were beyond your Avenging. And it made him feel like he knew you.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look, Point Break,” he said, “You’re heart’s in the right place. Really. It is but-”

“But?” he pressed, folding his arms.

“What if she doesn’t want to be your elf while you play Santa?” Rhodey snorted.

“Wait-” Barton said holding up a hand, “Tony, how many of her old clients are still nearby?”

“Why?” He asked.

“Because what if we throw a Christmas Party?”

“Bring clients here?” Tony asked.

“Whoever we can find,” Clint said nodding.

“You do like a Party,” Pepper pointed out, nudging his arm.

“Alright!” Tony said throwing up his hands, “We’ll do it. But only because It’s two days before Christmas and Y/N has yet to bake one single cookie. And that’s just depressing.”

Thor beamed, “Excellent, now how do we keep her from finding out?”

Natasha and Steve exchanged a look and Natasha hopped off the table easily, “Pepper, Girl’s day?”

“Yes!” she gasped, “Perfect. There’s never been a bought of seasonal depression some retail therapy can’t cure.”

_____________

Thor was giddy. Actually honest to goodness Giddy with excitement. It had been a long time since he felt that way. He’d been a boy. A young boy. Back when Odin still had both eyes. Before they’d gone to Midgard the first time.

He’d been racing through the columns, chasing Loki with Fandral and Volstag on his heels. Loki had stolen his toy sword and he wanted it back. They were all laughing. Breathless with childish joy. Until. Until they weren’t. Until Odin had thundered at them to stop and ordered them taken away. Called them fools and declared them too old to act like hellions. After that there had been no more play. Only training. Only study.

This. This felt like that. It was exhilarating, knowing what was coming. Knowing that in all corners of the tower, for the first time in 5 years, a proper party was going to be thrown. His old friends and many new ones in one place. The chance to maybe, hopefully, give you back some of the magic you had made for others. It makes him feel light. And the more he sees you, the more he feels like he’s doing the right thing.

You don’t look like yourself. Not like the self he remembers. You’re quiet and withdrawn. Sad. Still nice to everyone, just. Sad. There is not Christmas tree up in your room. You aren’t singing Christmas Songs at the top of your lungs with Banner or Tony. It’s like you’re completely removed from the time of year. He hasn’t even seen you using your “Don’t Get Your Tinsel in a Tangle” mug. He’s not really sure what tinsel is. Or why it shouldn’t be tangled but, gods if it wasn’t weird. Having you back and not being carried along on a tide of Christmas Cheer starting the day after Thanksgiving.

That he doesn’t like. So, as he stands outside your door, fidgeting and holding a plate of cookies, he hopes this helps. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and he desperately wants to try and lift you out of your funk. That moment of kindness years ago still seared into his mind. The scar left on his side, paler now and stretched out with the changes in his flesh, a souvenir. A momento. Something that, over the years, he wore as a badge. A reminder of how much he’d grown.

When the door opened, you leaned heavily on the door frame and rubbed your eyes. “Are we suiting up?” you ask confused, rubbing your eyes with a too-long sweater sleeve.

“I- no I thought you might be hungry. I hadn’t seen you all day,” he says uncertainly.

You smile a little, “Do you want to share them with me?”

Thor blinks at you for a second. The messy hair. The sleepy eyes. The sweater that fell to your mid-thigh and the soft bare legs underneath. It looks so inviting. He nods, swallowing hard for a moment and following you as you stepped back.

Your room was dark but for the glow of your television and a candle on the coffee table. He knew what wallowing looked like. Seeking whatever felt comfortable. Whatever numbed the pain. He watched you climb back into your nest and snuggle into a soft white faux fur blanket. Rabbit fur, he figured it was supposed to be. It looked silk soft.

Thor set the plate on the coffee table and went to your little coffee bar, helping himself to making cocoa to go with the cookies. Warmth, he decided. You needed warmth. Comfort from another person. A real person.

He watched you flip through things to watch impassively and his heart twisted. It was Christmas films. Things you’d shown to him his first Christmas on Midgard. Kindly explaining things to him when he didn’t understand. He liked the Santa creature. And the Reindeer. He liked the songs. Men finding redemption through a simple act of giving. Love lighting the way. It was comfortable if a bit dull. “What about the Elf movie?” he asks.

“Sure,” you murmur, flipping the program on easily. Thor smiles and hands you one mug and sits carefully on the sofa. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Thor felt his cheeks color. Your voice was so genuine and soft. “You’re welcome, Lady Y/N,” he hummed, satisfied. The movie plays quietly and Thor gently hands you a cookie, “Are you cold, my lady?” he asks when you shiver slightly.

“Pretty much constantly,” you answer snorting.

“Well,” he hums, “I may not be much to look at anymore but I am, I’m told, very warm.” He grins at you and it’s satisfying when your eyes lighten just a little and you bite your lip to keep from smiling. “Come on,” he presses gently, still teasing you gently, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

That makes you smile and you snuggle close tentatively, resting against his side with a sigh. “Thor?” you murmur after a long moment.

“Hmm?” he answers, afraid to move too much. Your cheek is resting on his belly and he’s comfortable with it. He likes knowing you’re there and cozy.

“What’s all this about?” you ask softly.

“I missed Christmas when you were gone,” he admitted, “And I miss Christmas with you now. I don’t like knowing it isn’t the same for you.”

You look up at him and he brushes hair out of your eyes gently, “I’ll be okay,” you tell him, “I mean. I’m alive. I’ve got nothing to complain about.”

Thor smiled a little, “But up here,” he said, tapping your forehead gently, “Might think that while your heart is broken. It’s okay. You can feel sad. And I’ll sit with you for a while.”

“You don’t mind?” you ask, snuggling close again.

“A beautiful woman, cookies, and some hot drinks? Gods no. That sounds like a nice way to spend a day.”

Thor isn’t lying. He’s pretty sure this might be heaven. It’s nice, holding someone. It’s nice when you doze off against him. He wraps you gently in you furry blanket and shifts you onto his lap, letting your head rest on his heart. He just lets you sleep and lets movies play. This is less about making you feel like celebrating, he realizes, and more about. About something else. About finding solace of his own. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed you. Until you were back and just. Not the same. Until you weren’t a puzzle to him anymore. Someone for him to flirt with and tell jokes to. Someone he loved flirting with precisely because you had no real attraction to him. You were a puzzle. And now? Now you weren’t. Not long ago, he would have gotten bored. It wouldn’t have been fun to watch you sleep. He’d have pressed buttons until you fell into his arms and begged him to fuck you until you were a mess of trembling limbs and bodily fluids. And there may come a day where he’ll be blessed with the opportunity to do that for you. But now? Now he wants you to rest. He knows what it feels like to be dragged down by the weight of a warzone in your mind. How it feels to FEEL so unworthy that you can’t bring yourself to do anything but lie there and rot. Because you deserve it. You deserve this suffering.

When you stir, nuzzling his chest and making some of the cutest sleepy confused sounds Thor had ever heard, He chuckles. “You snore, you know,” he hums affectionately.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, cheeks heating.

“It’s cute,” he reassures you, chucking you under the chin, “How do you feel?”

“A little better,” you concede, “I forgot how nice it is to have someone to cuddle.”

Thor tilts your chin up gently and brushes his thumb gently against your cheekbone, “I’m happy to be of service,” he breathed, feathering a soft kiss against your forehead. Careful not to press for too much and mindful that you are, in fact, a lady in truest fashion. Your affections are not given, they are earned.

“I like you better when you’re not being an asshole,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him.

“Was I?” he asked, slightly surprised.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Always so loud. And kinda mean to me.”

“Mean to you?” he frowned, He didn’t like that. He didn’t like to think he’d ever been mean to you. Even not meaning to.

“You laughed at me a lot,” you murmur, face heating.

“I thought you were funny,” he said, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“But I wasn’t kidding.”

He chuckled and sighed, “And that, dearheart,” he says, “Is why you’re funny. Hearing you yell ‘Jesus suffering fuck, Stark,’ over comms made me laugh so hard one day that I very nearly fell right out of the sky. I didn’t expect such things to come out of a mouth that sweet.”

You snort, “Clearly you weren’t paying attention.”

“Oh but I was,” he hums, shifting you over slightly to straddle his hips and resting his hands on your lower back. “Especially after the night, you patched me up.” He doesn’t move his hands to ride up your sweater or seek the silk of your skin. He can feel you heating under his hands and he doesn’t want to push. He just wants you closer to him and he likes having women straddling his lap. Even with his belly in the way, he decides as you snuggle close and lean against him. “Such gentle hands,” he praised, taking them in his gently, “So soft. And so skilled. You’re blessed, dearheart, and we’re blessed to have you.”

When you tear up, and he pulls you gently closer, he holds you tightly, “Shh,” he soothes, “Please no tears, my lady. I mean that sincerely. And I want you to know that your mind is lying to you. Come to the Party with me tomorrow?”

“I don’t know Thor,” you murmur.

“Please?” he pleaded uncertainly, “You don’t have to stay all night. If you get tired we’ll leave. We’ll come back up here and I’ll tuck you into a mountain of soft furry blankets.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

__________________

Thor decides as he watches you sip a glass of champagne and try to stay out of sight that he likes you in red. Your red sweater, bought by Natasha, is soft and looks warm. It suits you.

Clint catches his eye and jerks his head towards the main room, prompting him to herd you in. Thor, over your quiet protests, sweeps you into the other room, excited, he said, to show you the tree that he helped pick out. It doesn’t take long though, for your surprise to be unveiled.

Kids, and their parents. People who grieved you. People who knew you as a friend. People you had grieved yourself, were waiting for you. And in that moment, together, as they hug you and everyone is having trouble fighting back tears, one of your kids, now almost grown takes up a song.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light From now on your troubles will be out of sight.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas Make the Yuletide gay From now on your troubles will be miles away.

One by one, voices join that one child until everyone is singing the words back at you. It fills the air in ways that Thor has never heard before and won’t hear since. It’s a thank you. It is a welcome home. It is an I love you all in one.

Here we are as in olden days Happy golden days of yore Faithful friends who are dear to us Gather near to us once more

Through the years we all will be together If the fates allow Hang a shining star upon the highest bough

So have yourself a merry little Christmas Have yourself a merry little Christmas So have yourself a merry little Christmas

Thor doesn’t know the song, but it doesn’t matter. As he watches the tears fall down your cheeks, all he knows is that this might have been what you needed. It might have been the reminder you needed that the things you did had mattered. That you had fought. And died. And people had noticed.

He pulls you gently into his side and uses his sleeve to wipe the tears off your cheeks tenderly. “Merry Christmas, my Lady,” he rumbles, kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Thor,” you murmur, cheeks heating as you wrap your arms around him.

Tags: @lancsnerd @etherealwaifgoddess @blameitonthecauseway @thorfanficwriter @stevieang

#Thor Odinson #Thor x reader #thicc thor #fluff #angst if you squint #hurt/comfort #Christmas #christmas party

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weaselsmuses-aa · 4 years

Text

hey human hcs again because fuck it its revamp time

Ft: My muses && Some others that i just happen to have hcs for.

My muses + oc’s in collab w friends.

Topaz!!

Age: 16

Grade: Sophomore

Born in South Korea

Became something of a musical sensation back home, and is famous for her music mixing.

Became independent at 15, moved to the states a year later with the desire to see what America was like, hollywood in particular.

Lives in an apartment with Saphir, her senior classmate and good friend.

Pastel vibes

Sassy vibes (Much more sassy than gem topaz :o)

MomTM friend. She mediates and keeps the peace. Also will give great life advice.

Judges silently, but says nothing if she has nothing nice to say. (But she’ll think it.)

Currently has a job as a DJ at a local skating rink where her friends hang out. Gets them free food and games..

Hoping to make it big in the US so she can stay after she graduates.

Parents living overseas and helping pay for her life and schooling in the states.

She spends summers in Korea where she visits her family and tours, records music.

Part of the art club and spends a lot of time in the music rooms. She isn’t in Choir, Band or Orchestra, but is in music theory and guitar. Has a LOT of friends in all those programs.

Swiss (birth name: Sage)

Age: 16-17

Grade: Sophomore.

Swiss was born in Switzerland, but has also lived in South Korea for 5 years (where she met Topaz), London for 2, and now the US where she started high school.

Lives with her Father who is from Switzerland, her mom who was born in the UK, and her baby sister Kyanite

Class goofball and classic slacker but somehow still passes and knows the material.

‘ Whoops, I forgot my homework again’ type

Dye’d her hair blue at 14, pierced both her nose, lips, and several places in her ear.

Depressed and tired. Brings rockstar energy’s to class a lot.

Punk Rock vibes, but wears her uniform rather well. Her messenger bag is tricked out with a lot of music festival patches and pins though.

Her and Topaz both are those kids that have earbuds and beats headphones on all the time. She gets in trouble for listening to rock in class. Or talking.

Has a band, and is the main drummer and back up vocalist. The band was her idea, but she gives her friends a lot of freedom. Since drumming is her passion she doesn’t mind not being the lead vocalist.

Crushing on / Dating the richest girl in the school (Aquamarine ‘Marie’)

Doesn’t have a job, but thinking about getting a part time one at the record shop near her house.

Oversleeps A LOT. IS late to class a lot. Usually her detentions are from tardiness (or saying some smart ass comment to be funny and getting in trouble for it)

Very protective of her little sister, and gets along well with her in private, despite pretending that she irritates her.

No after school activities for her thanks. That stuffs lame. (Though she does wander in and hang out with the game club sometimes)

Kyanite (Ky)

Age: 14-15

Grade: 8th

One of the pretty MeanTM girls in middle school. Rather high on the social pecking order due to being an upperclassmen and being a cutie with an attitude.

Fashion sense a mix between soft grunge, a touch of punk and more flowing feminine outfits, or neat and prim /professional outfits. Whatever she decides, she likes to look good.

Very talented at doing her make up and nails, tends to have a lot of requests from other girls her age for help in that dept.

Looks up to her sister a lot more than she lets on. Lowkey wants to be involved in a lot of what she does after school. (She even begged her parents to let her dye her hair blue as well right after Swiss did (She was 12 at the time))

Love’s shopping and collecting outfits and cute little butterfly themed things for her room.

While she’s in the ‘popular’ circle of girls in her grade, shes not particularly stuck up when it comes to other kids. She can be mean, but its usually to just as entitled kids. She’s rather tame and even friendly with less popular kids in her grade. She’s very comfortable around them and enjoys not being put on a pedestal all the time

Romance obsessed. (Duh)

Wishes she could get a piercing and a tattoo like her sissy, but her parents only let her pierce her ears.

A’s in most of her classes, but struggles in History. It’s a snoozefest to her.

Currently in band and debate team. (She plays flute)

Takes FOR-E-VER to get ready to leave the house. (Hey, its not ALWAYS swiss’s fault shes’ late.)

Best friends in school are Livie and Bebe.

Spends a lot of time after school for Band practice, Debate team activities, or supporting her bestie Bebe in her cheer practice.

Really likes sneaking in the upperclassmen building. No one’s cute in her grade :/ (according to her)

Likes to fake being sick so she can go home early. way too often.

Bonus’es!

ft some of my other... (albiet co-op) oc’s / and aquamarine cus i can

Bebe

Age: 14-15

Grade: 8th

Met Kyanite in 6th grade and they instantly hit it off well.

Bubble gum pink hair, and really likes fashion. Always obsessed with wearing the cutest combo of clothes she can come up with.

Really sweet and bubbly on the surface, but she isn’t called a bubblegum bitch for nothing. She knows shes popular and will often trick the vulnerable into believing they have social status only to humiliate them when she sees fit.

A little bit bitchier than Ky. Not that she wants to be mean actively, she just kind of ......is how we say.....spoiled brat.

As long as her best friend cares about someone she does too.

When she actually does accept you, shes a very sweet and almost loyal to the point of irritation.

Crushing on Kyanite, kissed her at a party and has kind of never got over it.

Serial dater. Literally she has a new sweetie every week. its tiring.

Junior Varsity Cheer Team and Drama club are her life.

When she’s not doing those things, she’s spending her time in her Juniors bowling team. They go to tourney during summer.

Parents aren’t filthy rich but they are not hurting for money in any shape or form. Shes always got whatever she wanted.

Loves getting gifts, and will almost try and bug people into sending her stuff to homeroom during holidays. Either because she wants STUFF or for her own popularity.

Might be kind of bitchy but really does feel bad and get upset if people point that out about her. I wouldn’t say she /wants/ to be a bad person. her parents never told her no and nor how to not be self centered.

Very talkative and upbeat. Wants to inspire her friends and lift them up.

On the other end, is a big gossip and bad about spreading rumors and stirring up drama with people she isn’t a fan of.

Show her a cute animal and she’ll sob. I mean the whole 9 yards.

Marie . (Aquamarine.)

Age: 17-18

Grade: 12th

Born and raised in London for the majority of her life. She’s also lived in France for 3 years during an abroad program her parents sent her to where she met one of her closest friends (Astrid)

Her parents are filthy stinkin rich and own a foreign luxurious fashion company and a luxury car company.

Livie is her baby sister and she often tries to pretend like thats not the case. (She loves her guys i swear)

Stuck up, bratty, and just an overall bitch. She RELISHES in it. Marie KNOWS shes mean, popular and has power and she’s proud.

“you can’t sit with me, you can’t talk to me, you aren’t good enough to even know me.”

Her desire for power has her gunning for valedictorian (cue her and satoshit fighting to the death), and she’s currently the president of student government. Thats right. She’s deciding school functions and your future you little peasant fucks.

Will shove her riches and status down your THROAT oh my goooodddd

Throws HUGE parties when her parents are out of town, uses it as a tool to make the popular kids/upperclassmen love her even more and show the ‘losers’ where their place is.

Always has to look THE best in the school, and will probably murder anyone who threatens to take her places as prom queen (i kid i kid.........maybe)

Hangs out with Astrid and Mae when they’re in town.

Has a type that does not fall in line with her image (coughcough Swiss cough) and will do a LOT to keep in a secret. But....listen....she also can’t hide it well. Like...not even a little. She gay.

She’s always seen with her posse of popular girls and her two primary school friends the topazes. They’re just the schools huge UNITS of lesbian quarterbacks, their fists as big as your face, they wont squash you, promise. (look at marie wrong once bitch.)

Will die of embarrassment of her sister livie. Unfortunately is responsible for her in a lot of ways. Driving her back and forth from school, taking her to school functions and much more. (She loves her....double pinky swear) But she claims they aren’t related. (no one believes this hoe) That don’t mean she wont DESPERATELY try to pawn her off for the day. Babysitter? Butler? Anyone? SOMEONE?

Will absolutely use Livie as a means to hang out with Swiss via playdates. Oh yeah, she knows their baby sisters are besties. It’s free real estate.

Has expressed to Swiss that she wishes they could trade sisters. ( I swear marie loves livie deep down in this essay I will----)

In a wealth measuring contest with Satoshit 24/7

Is CONSTANTLY going on overseas trips. She will never stop bragging about it.

Consumed mostly by Student Government and Theatre.

#so it got longer and longer and longer #and marie stole the show #as she should #v:human #HCs #LONG post #i am so sorry but ...i had to do it to em #;hcs

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precuredaily · 5 years

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Precure Day 170

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 22 - “Milk Runs Away and Causes Mass Chaos!” Date watched: 7 January 2020 Original air date: 8 July 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/Em3LtfV Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

and a bitch

I guess I can’t keep harping on Milk forever. She found herself alone in a hostile world not built for her, had to survive by whatever means necessary, and when she finally finds the people that it’s her responsibility to help, she can’t do anything for them. She has a superiority complex that is extremely at odds with her capacity to actually be useful, so she lashes out at others instead. Where does this get her? Let’s find out.

The Plot

Milk tries to help at Natts House as they prepare for a big sale, but only gets in the way of the others, so she tries to put herself on sale. However, Coco and Nuts explain that her plan to sell herself, sneak back, and sell herself again repeatedly is fraud and they will not allow it, so she feels sad and helpless.

this is the sad climb, use it for sad times

Meanwhile Arachnea is feeling the pressure when her quarterly bonus turns out to be zero, so she stops by Natts House just in time to see Milk run away. She follows Milk for a few blocks and then kidnaps her, and the gang follows them to an aquarium. Arachnea uses an enchanted jellyfish to hold Milk hostage and electrocute her while she turns another jellyfish into a Kowaina and demands the Dream Collet in exchange for Milk.

The girls respond that they’re getting Milk back, and she’s not getting the collet, before they transform. Arachnea points out that Milk ran away of her own volition because she thinks the girls hate her, and they respond that they don't; while sometimes you have to be stern with your friends, it’s in her best interest, and they still consider her a valuable companion. Arachnea doubles down on her threat by dangling Milk over a tank of piranhas.

as one does

The Kowaina captures the girls in its tentacles, but they manage to free Lemonade, who frees the rest of them, and they rescue Milk before destroying the monster, and Arachnea flees without either the fairy OR the Dream Collet. The girls assure Milk again that they value her and all return to the shop.

A few days later, in the aftermath of the sale, Coco and Nuts tell the girls how Milk has been more amenable since then, and she apologizes for making them worry. Komachi shows up with a copy of the Cinq Lumieres Times, where Mika has written a piece complimenting Milk, who she believed was a stuffed animal. Milk takes the compliment to heart and returns to her boastful self, claiming to be much more refined than Nozomi, that they are as different as Heaven and Hell. The other girls are surprised to hear her use that phrase, and it turns out she is actually very studious and approximately the same relative age as them. The episode closes with Milk taunting Nozomi while being chased around the shop.

The Analysis

If you remember in episode 11, where I observed that Nozomi was exhibiting ADHD symptoms, I think we might have another sincere portrayal of mental illness in Milk. She seems to be displaying traits of a superiority complex. She sees herself as better than all of the girls, and her responsibility is solely to Coco and Nuts. However, the reality of her small body and inability to assume human form (yet) are at odds with this and clash with her vision of herself, creating feelings of inferiority. If this sounds contradictory, all I can say is that there are different interpretations of what a superiority complex is, and that I’m not a doctor. The point is, her high opinion of herself contrasts with her actual capacity for help and results in her feeling useless and unwanted. Even after she’s rescued, she seems to still be shaken by the experience, and is all around quieter and less enthusiastic than normal. However, a quick confidence boost is the perfect thing to snap her back to her usual self.

Milk’s struggle to find a purpose in a world that isn’t made for her is actually very fascinating. Despite her normally forceful demeanor, we see her vulnerable side as well. Since she’s small, ordinary things like birds and dogs seem frightening to her, and you can sympathize with her. Combined with the revelation at the end of the episode that she’s equivalent to Nozomi’s age, you start to realize that she’s really just a child putting on a strong front. She has thus far survived by exploiting people’s sympathy, and it seems to be her only useful skill. She pretends to be a stuffed animal, steals the person’s food that picks her up, and then finds her next victim. She plans to use this strategy again in order to bring in money for the shop. It’s mean, but it’s also the only thing she feels she can do to help out since she can’t mop, can’t move furniture, can’t be a salesperson, etc. Coco and Nuts also don’t really need any caretaking, they’re very self-sufficient. She implied in the previous episode that she could cook, so maybe there’s that, but I don’t believe she ever gets the chance to demonstrate this. Effectively, the only thing she can do for the shop is to serve as a mascot and attract customers with her cuteness, which is what Mika does and how she writes about her in the paper. Of course, being treated as an object of desire pys right back into Milk’s ego, but it doesn’t mean she’s not good at it regardless. Although I don’t believe it ever happens again, she just stays out of the way when there’s business to be done.

Over in Nightmare we begin to see some real consequences. Sure, Bunbee has complained about budget cuts before and there’s always someone griping, but this time we actually see a direct result of their failure to get the Dream Collet, in the form of no pay for Arachnea OR Bunbee. The rest of the season will continue to explore the ramifications of their ongoing failure, and in fact the very next episode will showcase Girinma being given his final chance to succeed. Nightmare hasn’t been as cliche evil as the Dusk Zone or Dark Fall were, and their goal is even more vaguely defined, but their consequences seem to carry more weight. In the FW shows, villains either recurred every episode until they were destroyed, or they rotated, but either way their individual losses didn’t seem to matter much to the top brass. Splash Star came close, but every time a villain was given their final chance, they wound up being destroyed by the Precures in that episode anyway. Here, we’re beginning to see some actual feedback, and I enjoy that.

The battle in the aquarium - both the physical fight and the clash of words - was really good on all fronts. Arachnea was right that Milk ran away of her own volition, suggesting she didn’t want to be around the team, and they had no right to demand her return. However, the girls give a really great speech in return: they explain that Coco had to be stern with her for a reason, because that’s what friends do sometimes, and that he and Nuts were still overjoyed that she found them. Komachi and Karen declare her a true friend to them. It’s a great exchange of ideals. Physically, there’s a lot of moving around and they make good use of the environment. I especially like the part where the Kowaina traps all the girls in its tentacles, so Dream wriggles around until she can dive into Lemonade, giving her enough room to escape and use Lemonade Splash on the monster to cause it to release its grip on them. Then Aqua tricks Arachnea into latching webs onto her so she can distract the villain while Rouge rescues Milk from her precarious perch:

Changing gears and winding this thing down, I want to say a quick bit about how Milk literally moves around through the world. As seen in the gif higher up, her ears are prehensile, so she can use them like arms to pick herself up and navigate obstacles such as stairs. Coco and Nuts tend to just jump but she lifts herself. It’s clever.

All told this was a very strong episode about Milk struggling to find a place and a role for herself, and the girls coming to appreciate her presence in their lives. It lays the foundation for a lot of Milk’s character growth in the 20s and 30s, as well as teasing just how badly Nightmare’s agents are doing, which will play into the next episode. 23 and 24 are a two-parter, the mid-season climax, and some of the best episodes of the whole show. To that end I’ll be posting the reviews of them back to back, even if it means delaying them a bit. Considering I have been sitting on this review for the better part of a month, that may not mean much, but regardless, look forward to some DESPAIR next time!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 kettei!

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Yes! Precure 5 #YPC522 #PCD170

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rocky-maneo · 4 years

Text

Big Girls Don’t Cry [self-para]

“Interesting that you think of it that way,” the lowlife chuckled, blood staining his teeth and seeping onto his lips.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Rocky droned in a bored tone, her hands busy with ejecting the clip out of the gun covered in his blood. As she began to empty the clip, the sharp clink of metal clashing onto the pavement below, she continued. “You talk so much, but say nothing.”

“Oh, little one, I think I’m saying quite enough.”

Her gaze fell to him before she lifted her foot, pressing the bottom of her Doc Martin’s into his forehead with some force. “Shut up.”

Another chuckle fell from his lips as he spit up more blood. “You beat the shit out of me for answers yet you haven’t gotten the answer you need.”

She rolled her eyes as she shifted her weight to her grounded foot, forcefully pushing down his face into the cement ground, his face scraping against it slightly from the impact. “Then start talking.”

“Do you trust a word I say?”

“I trust you about as much as I trust a weather report. I’m taking it with a grain of salt, dickbrain. Now what do you need to tell me? Spit it out.”

Her Korean pronunciation was starting to suffer terribly. Her anger was palpable, rolling off of her like tidal waves building just out beyond the shoreline as she stood over him pressing his face further into the cement ground beneath them. He chuckled again, sighing in what seemed to be a delighted tone. “You and me, we aren’t that much different from one another.”

“Don’t think for one second I won’t use your face to wipe birdshit off this pavement. We are nothing alike.”

“You really have no idea what happened all that time ago? You weren’t all that young then.”

“If you keep saying a bunch of shit instead of just saying what you were going to hours ago, I will literally leave you to bleed out in your car,” she said, her voice laced with every ounce of promise she could convey. When she finally worked her way to one bullet left in the clip, she inserted it and locked it.

There was a lengthy pause after the clip clicked into place as she locked it, one that almost made her wonder if the scum beneath her boot was still conscious. “Little girl--”

“I’m not little.”

“Little girl--”

Digging the heel of her boot into his cheek, she ignored the slight pop she felt. “I’m not little, piece of shit.”

“At least my mother didn’t sell me for a plot of land and a pocket full of 50 bhat.”

The world did not end with a bang, or a whisper, but rather, one silent scream at time.

One hundred deafeningly quiet screams. Ones that kept her awake; ones that echoed through the hallway of every memory kept locked away, refusing to leave.

For Rocky, her world ended at twelve. The rest of her long life would serve as a timekeeper to that dog-eared moment in time. She would never be anything more than a kitsune who was sold to a bidder who then sold her to wealthy families who desired “pets” as another trophy in their trophy case.

Returning to Thailand was a goal of Rocky’s. The country she hardly knew but was always reduced to while living abroad.

It was far less beautiful than she remembered. Perhaps industrialization and the push to modernize had taken some of its charm away. Or maybe it was a romanticized land where things were ideal as a coping mechanism for how shitty everything after Thailand seemed to be. The life of complete solitude, subjugation and an anger that only seemed to worsen the longer she breathed--her home was always seen as a paradise whenever she reverted back to her life before she was trafficked.

It was a life of freedom, childish wonder, and playing along the canal. Naive to the world’s harsh realities. A paradise just based off of that.

However, as she made her way through the dirt roads outside Phuket’s city center and the rush of noisy tourists seemed to paint an entirely different picture altogether. She was nearing the stretch of lands owned by several resorts and private luxury realtors. From the information she gathered, she had important business at the Marina Cove Resort, one of the largest resorts in the area.

Rocky knew it was tricky, banking on all this intel to be accurate and correct. Deep down, she still wasn’t sure she could trust the Chinese trafficker who seemingly was still in contact with her mother. She wasn’t entirely sold. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to look into it herself. With his information and a little digital digging, she figured out a few more pieces to the puzzle that prompted her to book a flight to Thailand. Information such as her still working at a resort, changing her name to Rita and how she was now married to a realtor in Phuket.

It was amazing to her, how drastically her mother’s life had changed over the century. She went from a tin shack along the canals of Phuket, working as a housekeeper at two resorts and a woman who lost her daughter for god knows what reason to a wife who was well off and worked for one resort in their catering department. Just the thought of it made the bile bubble at the back of her throat.

Hours later, she meandered into the resort. Strolling with confidence up to the desk with a stolen credit card that she claimed was her father’s, she checked into her reserved room under a completely fake name. Weeks ago, she set this up. As soon as she learned about her mother’s new position at Marina Cove, the tech-savvy girl worked to get as much information about her normal routine as possible. There was a morbid sort of interest for the young kitsune. While she could honestly hear that same statement resonating at the back of her head, the one from the Chinese trafficker who revealed she was sold, not stolen, there was still a part of her that missed the woman. Something irrational within her brought up those nostalgic feelings and it made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

That night brought no easy dreams. In fact, she felt sick at one point, so sick, she barely made it to the toilet in time to spew the contents of her skimpy dinner. A mere reminder that she wasn’t well off 95 years later. Even after all of these years of independence, Rocky still didn’t make a whole lot of money and ended up stealing money in order to afford the airplane ticket. The hotel room was stolen too. Meanwhile, it seemed after a day of following her mother, she was doing well for herself. She worked as a catering liaison at the resort and helped potential clients explore their options for holding weddings, birthdays, family reunions, etc. at the resort. She had a nice comfy life with her new husband and that was both comforting and sickening all at the same time.

After a night where she barely slept, she used that morning to tail her mother. In shorts, a crop top and sandals, looking foolish in her opinion, she followed at a sizable distance. She watched as she gave a site tour to a potential wedding party. The way she beamed and raved about all the great food packages that came with the event space was entrancing.

She looked nothing like her, Rocky thought with a nauseating realization. Nose shapes, full lips, eyes--all of it looked so different when she compared herself to the older kitsune. She got almost nothing from her mother and that made her jaw flex as she watched her mother throw her head back as she laughed at the groom’s unfunny joke. She seemed so confident as she continued the tour, giving specifications on all the ballrooms and the reception area for said ballrooms. Her mother wasn’t as tall as her, she noted. Perhaps a trait passed on by her other parent--the mysterious person she never knew. Her mother’s short arms extended and it only prompted the young kitsune to look at her own long limbs.

Another thing she seemed to not pick up from her mother was the cheerful disposition. She seemed so content and happy as she walked around. And sure, that could just be her front-facing demeanor with prospective clients, but there was a gut feeling within Rocky that told her she was happy. Happier than she ever remembered her before.

In this moment, with the sun creating a perfect halo of light around her, it was easy for her to forget those words that stuck like glue in the back of her head.

“She knew what was coming and weighed out what was more important. Guess you didn’t make the cut, sweetheart.”

Those words were like a stain. The harder she scrubbed at it, to erase it from her memory and cling to a memory that she was stolen, ripped from her mother’s side, the deeper it set in. The more it set in, the less she could pretend like those words didn’t hurt. For the last twenty years, Rocky tried her hardest to understand why her mother would give her up. Sure, they were dirt poor and lived in a tin shack along the canals. They had nothing but each other. But that wasn’t so terrible, was it? Difficult, and, perhap most of the time it was trying, but that was hardly a reason to just give one’s child away. No matter how much she tried to rationalize it in her head, the kitsune came up with no justifiable reason as to what happened.

Following her mother led the raven-haired woman to a beautiful and sleek mansion just outside the resort area. Secluded, private and easy access for a girl used to breaking into any and everything. Her mother lived in a house made of stucco or similar solid material. No metal to be seen. The roof looked to be sturdy and without holes. A dream of a house and better than her sub-basement apartment back in Gwangju.

It was even harder to deny the words from the Chinese trafficker when she saw the lush and beautiful landscape surrounding the sprawling estate. The home looked gorgeous with the tropical backdrop. Modern and chic in every way. For her to have gone from rags to this, it only seemed to feed into the idea that maybe she did have to give Rocky up in order to have all of this. Another sickening turn in her stomach made her nearly spew the entire contents of her stomach, blood simmering just there beneath her skin.

The stakeout taught her a few things. She owned a vehicle. A very nice foreign brand. An Astin Martin actually. Her husband was tall and a little older with completely gray hair. He wore a bespoke suit that first time she laid eyes on him. He was somewhat handsome and pale. Almost looked foreign. He drove a Porsche. He seemed to treat her well in the few hours she could stomach observing. It must’ve been nice to find love after all these years. Probably most shocking of all was just how serene everything was. From her vantage point in a tree near the house, everything looked like it had a place and nothing was out of that designated spot. Blindingly clean, white cabinets in the kitchen, pristine dark wood floors, stainless steel counter tops that gleamed when the light hit it just right.

A perfectly secluded escape tucked away in Thai jungle.

Just as she determined she’d seen all she could take for the day, another set of headlights bobbed and flashed as the car pulled into the driveway to the house. Curiosity was getting the best of the young kitsune, and so she stayed there, perched between branches, her back uncomfortably digging into the rough bark of the tree as her eyes focused in on the final car. It came to a full stop and parked behind her mother’s Astin Martin. The last bit she saw of her mother and her new husband, they weren’t in any clothes to receive guests at this hour and it was rapidly getting darker. Her mind tried to rack over who would be arriving this late to a house they didn’t live in with people who looked like they were settling in for the evening, but she was coming up blank.

So, she just decided to watch and see what happened.

A man dressed in casual clothing hopped out of the car to open the passenger-side backseat door. Rocky was so engrossed in the mystery of who would emerge from the car, she didn’t notice how far she was leaning forward or that she was holding her breath. Her eyes narrowed as she saw a short leg peek from the bottom of the car door. Soon, it was a mess of jet black hair. With a tan leather backpack slung over his tiny shoulders, Rocky watched in silent confusion as a teenage boy emerged from the backseat. Who was this?

A shrill laugh sounded from somewhere and her head whipped around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. But by the time she turned to face the car once again, she found a second kid crawling from the backseat and pushing the older and taller boy. It was a small girl with her hair in a ponytail, her school uniform an absolute mess of wrinkles and what looked to be dirt on her skirt. Bone straight jet black hair almost identical to the bob she had when she was younger, she watched as a thin preteen arose from the car. She had to be a preteen. As they bickered among themselves, Rocky realized she didn’t know enough Thai anymore to keep up. A language she’d long forgotten to make room for the Korean language she used on a daily basis.

Who the fuck are they?

She stayed there in that tree, watching the children bicker as they moved around the car, thanking the man for the ride and handing off an envelope to him. As they waved the car back out of the driveway and onto the private road leading back to the dirt road she walked along to make it to the estate, she watched a porch light illuminate the back deck of the house. The soft light guided the two back toward the house and as they continued to bicker lightning fast between the two of them. At the door was Rocky’s mother, smiling fondly as she scooped them both into a hug, ruffling the younger girl’s hair.

Dumbstruck and unable to process the image before her, the young kitsune straightened her rigid torso as she continued to watch the interaction. Kissing both kids at the crown of their heads, she laughed when the younger one jumped around excitedly, her backpack spilling the entire contents of the bag onto the wooden deck.

Who the fuck are they?

Her keen hearing picked up one word in all the flurry of indecipherable Thai. It was one of the few Thai words she remembered.

Maa.

The chill that ran through her was bewildering. It started at the top of her scalp and only descended at the slowest of paces. As if someone was pouring a bucket of ice water on her but instead of a splash, it was a steady trickle. Her eyes bore into the two children and her mother who was still helping pick up the fallen paper. She said something about dinner, but Rocky wasn’t able to pick up much else, her hearing beginning to turn fuzzy. Her vision blurred, unable to sharply focus on anything in front of her. Why would they call her mom? Why would they go up and hug her like that? Why would she be waiting for their return? Did those children live at the house?

The answer to those questions was obvious, but she couldn’t help but fight that possibility. There’s no way her mother had children. There’s no way Rocky had siblings for...at least ten years without her knowing. No. She was ripped from her mother, never reunited, despite possible efforts made on her mother’s part. No. She wouldn’t have children of her own after something so traumatic, right?

Right.

#maneo:selfpara #[part 1 of 2]

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madamhatter · 4 years

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ACT ???. BACKSTAGE your name is.....

Note: headcanon dump. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ several smaller ones drafted, decided against spam, and then bunched some together.

got only another thing, a drabble, which it’ll come out soon enough..! had it for ~3 days and isn’t as long as this post.

plumeria.

“And a good morning to you too.” Before the sun greeted the sky, Sophie Hatter had been minding herself to conversation with a newly made friend. Her hand briskly brushes against their cool form to then patting it affectionately. Turns out that her friend was much taller than her, which is quite a shock for how younger they were. Not surprising when she was talking to a blossoming plumeria tree.

After the events in ACT I, SCENE I, and a great amount of guilt (which she easily crumbles under), Sophie ended up using a good portion of her earned bits from that week to purchase the plumeria she enchanted. The tree has been reserved to live comfortably on top of the apartment complex she lives in, which makes it an interesting sight.

She has already constructed a large box (3.5 feet width), filled it with dirt, and transferred the tree into its happy new home. She thankfully did as her magic is, in simple terms, is very reactive. Not needing direct commands, or specific words/chants to use it, her own vocals can impact quite a bit. In this case, it’s the fact that the tree that had once fit in a pot was now already taking on a healthier size. It is has quite visible around the block as it’s already ~6 ft and can grow up to 20 ft. At this rate, it may happen exponentially.

If it sounds like the tree is alone, don’t worry! One of the major projects Sophie had when she (recently) moved into her apartment was to create A) a reliable source of food and B) connections. So, there is a community garden on the rooftop as well, not taking up the entirety of the space (but could, depending on what’s wanted by the complex residents). She acts as the head gardener and spends a good portion up there to tend to vegetables, flowers, and the tree. Anyone in the apartment complex may freely tend to the garden (and take from it).

consumption/charity.

With her only stable income coming from her work as the Vermilion Detective Agency’s housekeeper, and her past history of her family’s ‘bread winner,’ she has spent scrupulous time organizing and budgeting out most weeks in advance. Considering Simeon’s work, which is high risk and high reward, that is not usually counted. She anticipates that there’ll be 'dry periods’ when there might not be available work or she’ll be decommissioned due to injuries sustained from her last job. In her opinion, it’s best to work in assuming conditions are worst than they are, which mean certain sacrifices are made.

For this headcanon, we’ll focus on food consumption. Sophie has notoriously bad health concerns when it comes to herself. This includes missing out on meals and not keeping track of what she has eaten. She is an avid baker and cook from being her family’s provider, but this doesn’t mean she makes things for herself. Honestly, the shame of her skills is that even if she could create as much, she A) can’t enjoy it/rationalizes that isn’t for her pleasure/source, and, in the case of food, B) not able to indulge. Sophie has a major case of “food intolerances” because of the limited availability (and variety) of foods in her childhood.

All this in mind, Sophie tends to have extra ingredients available or a selection of them that she wouldn’t normally eat. (or can’t eat). There’s the fear that it’ll expire and she would’ve wasted money, so she pretty much returned to old habits: assume a bigger household.

Sophie, essentially, has cooked larger meals and offered them out in her apartment. It originally didn’t start like this. She already offered meals already to those in the apartment complex out of compassion. She comes from a relatively small community and it’s always been integral to participate and support those around you; they can be as much as family to you, if you decide to make them so. But, back to topic. Considering how little she’s actually using, she isn’t wanting anything to go to waste

Want a plate in Sophie’s apartment? The first step would be you’d need to live close to her district, or in her district, and heard it by word of mouth (or from the source herself). She can’t go the extra mile and create new locations to serve food. Maybe in local spots, but she is still someone who’s living in poverty. The second step would be to know when. The best way to know? See if the plumeria tree is blossomed.

It blossoms and closes according to when visits the garden. Its a part of her obligations to visit the roof-top garden everyday for about 1~4 times (when she wakes up, when she leaves, when she returns, and when she’s retiring for the day). It can be more times. Again, her speech leaves impact, and given how she speaks to the tree, the flower scan either be opened or closed. If it’s opened, she’s been at the apartment and hasn’t left. If they’re closed, she’s either (trying) to sleep or she’s left the apartment. The flowers aren’t always opened, which doesn’t necessarily reflect that she hasn’t visited. She’s possibly busy/stressed about something, rushing to get things done, or isn’t in the particular mood.

Then again, if someone crashed in and is ridiculously malnourished or mentions they haven’t eaten (or lies about it), she will rush into that kitchen faster than they can blink. It’s always been a part of her character to be a ‘people-pleaser’ to some angle, usually seen as compassion. ..Add in the fact that her guilt can be used against her effectively and the person might not even be trying.

rambling below. wasn’t proof-read. just me going.

..Now that I think about it, this act itself is coping to the internalized and externalized exile she’s facing. She’s completely removed from her family unit (sisters), the one thing that kept her going, and her home and history has been destroyed. It’s already of her to genuinely fear loneliness and the inevitable ‘uselessness’ she will be because all she’s worked for has always been to benefit/aid her sisters.

She believes the worth she actually feels good about ( read: the one time feels happy when she’s being used/taken advantage of) will expire as soon as her sisters don’t need her anymore. She spent her life being used and gotten used to it because she, as a child, *agreed/accepted* her shit fate in lieu that she’d be used to help/nurture/do everything for her sisters’ happiness/stability/etc. That is literally the reason why she rolls with it. Just for them.

In her eyes, she’s *very* close to the point where her life is going to really have no purpose because she has reconstructed herself for her sisters-. and there’s the fact that if she successfully raised them and ensured them everything they need, they wouldn’t need her. she’ll be obsolete and she knows that. and it’s just a countdown until she’s truly useless, which then means she’ll be lonely because there’s no desirability/use to her. in her head, that’s how relationships work with her and has been the standard since she was a kid.

providing to people is her life’s obligation because of how she’s been molded to see herself as.

This is a way to get some company and placate the terror of isolation she believes she is fated for. She might’ve reconstructed and gained control of her fate. But, there are certain things your life is barred to because what you perceive to happen/it to be. Basically, self-fulfillment prophecy.

She still has that gap because of her own internalization, repression, and other co-morbid beliefs, trauma, etc.. She hasn’t gotten to that point, or is she avoiding it? She can physically and emotionally adapt well, but mental adaptation is the harder thing to do.

It doesn’t help this is the idiot who doesn’t ask for help or admit to these things. Then there’s the problem of her not wanting to be alone, but she pushes relationships away because her feelings towards them are ‘this isn’t going to last and I shouldn’t get comfortable’ and ‘my relationships exist only for exchange in that I need to give and the person has to receive, or else something’s wrong.’

this can go on, but, nah - this is going to get too off-topic.

tldr: she’s a dumbass who craves intimacy and company like everyone else but rejects most human desires/wants because she wasn’t treated like a proper human and normalized it for herself. sophie believes her relationships are based on ulterior motive + her needing to provide because that what she thought is normal for her.

budgeting ( + peek into psyche )

Financial stability hadn’t been a staple of Sophie’s life. Emptied pockets and urgency had been, however, persistent conditions by which she coordinated herself and handling between the family shop and her family’s needs. Electricity was all too new in the valley, running water was a commodity that could’ve been easily revoked and it was harder to regain, warmth was at an all-time best whenever the Hatter sisters trio huddled together, and food was as much of a surprise for Sophie with each passing day. As she’s gotten older, she saw less of these impending fears, if only because she placed herself immediately into the workforce. No pay she made was her own, her stepmother pocketed it, but it was thankfully used for the family....with what little was left after Fanny did whatever she wanted with it.

However, those yesterdays were swallowed by a veil of smoke and ember, far too thick to navigate and too hard to breathe in. Instead of a family of the five remaining Hatters, all it was now in Sophie’s estranged life was herself in Topaxi. Her sisters were fortunately in apprenticeships in the empire and Fanny was recently remarried to some rich man -- to whom she never met properly as they gotten engaged and eloped during her disappearance. Even if she spent countless days in a cramped apartment, watching the paint chip away on her ceiling and only in the company of flowers and hats, she was still stubborn to fall on her oldest habit. Every pinch of money she made in her numerous jobs were budgeted with such precision that more than 60% of the funds were mailed out and sent to her sisters at the end of every month.

With the legally questionable yet financially beneficial jobs, it made things much easier to support her family. Her own safety, sanity, and security, however, weren’t priorities. Not that they did matter, anyways, since the importance of a job was customer satisfaction and a successful transaction.

Simeon stirs from their momentary silence, shaking their head at the sound of talk before them. It’d been another arrangement to do another one of those jobs, and it was becoming a routine that they weren’t at all fond of. Morals and better judgement rallied to put a stop in engaging and profiting from this field of world, but those wouldn’t produce anything worthy for her sisters to live off on. It didn’t matter what the self thought and wanted, what mattered was the others.

“Uhuh.” Don’t act as if you were originally listening.

misc.

Given her origins in [REDACTED], particular the location in the country, much of the advancements in Topaxi and in many countries weren’t available for her. She hasn’t ever needed to own a phone (or had one in her house home). There are certain things that are needing to get used to. One of the major points for this is that Sophie’s inadequacy with technology (even if it’s not ‘modern’ to our standards) does impact her. This does include a vehement dislike towards cars, which didn’t exist in the valley where she grew up in. She will pretty much refuse to enter one and would prefer handling foot traffic and relying on her knowledge to find barely-traveled routes. It isn’t necessarily labeled as a phobia, but she does have a great unease inside cars and tends to shimmy to the side, gripping the seat cushion. She would continue conversation but her inputs are not as verbose. She will not look out of the windows and try to keep herself distracted. The only other time this reaction can be invoked if she’s shoved into any medical facility -- which spikes her anxiety. But, in that particular case, her hostility will appear and it’s not something that really, really comes out easily.

Knowledge in obscure, if not concerning, topics happens to be ever true in this version than in her usual incarnation. Outside of what her canon establishes in understanding demonology, curses, and contracting, there is the additional compact of her understanding human anatomy. It’s, admittedly, something that doesn’t come out normally and this is mainly discussing the different systems that govern the body. She will share her techniques and skills when it comes to tending/first aid, and the information will out come, but it’s much more friendlier for normal people. It can easily have its tune changed. Genuinely speaking, the application of this knowledge goes into explaining the limitations of the body and reactions that the body will have if certain bones, organs, etc. are damaged, removed, etc. If we need to go further in, this does include things like dissection and such. Example of how it’ll be approached, here: “Here.” Sophie tapped her finger to an image dedicated to the spinal cord as the image listed off the nerves associated with the system, injuries one could get, the name of each vertebrate, etc. “Theoretically,” she turned to Natsume, assuming he was paying attention and not returning to the devil spawns he called his cats. “If you look at the top, you have the cervical vertebrae.” Sophie gently poked Natsume’s spine with the tip of her scarred fingertips. “C6 is one of the points where you’d need to get in order to start the process. An injury here could be as harmless as you could expect but there’ll be paralysis from the neck downwards. It is very vital. Something like a hairline fracture could work if the person isn’t looking.” Just imagine it to get into more uncomfortable detail. Why does she know this? Good question.

Sophie’s been formerly cursed as an old woman like in canon. and, weirdly, embraced it faster than any person should’ve. It still impacts her in ways, but spoilers :). The main point is that she falls into the habit of speaking much older than she is. Doesn’t matter if you’re two years older, twice her age, or the one responsible for making the universe, she will refer to you as ‘young,’ among other things, and use titles of endearment. As a reminder, she is 20 years old, physically that age and actually that age. It is weird but we’re rolling with it.

Sophie can most likely outdrink you.

Can make you a sweater. a cap too.

Can lift quite well! Listen, she’s not ripped, but she can pick up above her weight (in terms of people). If she can’t completely pick you, she’ll drag you.

ACHIEVEMENT: end notes. ☆ Read over one of Sophie’s extras.

UNLOCKED: ☆ encyclopedic oddity - Shorter GCD for ‘encyclopedic oddity,’ ability in which Sophie spills out strange and off-hand facts/accounts. May also ask her for facts please don’t ☆ the cratchit to your scrooge - sophie may be hired to take on accounting/budgeting work. just as the title suggests, she can also be paid horribly for this job. ☆ home is where your favorite plate is - chance encounter to gain ‘full stomach’ buff when entering (or barging into) sophie’s apartment. the first question i ask is, how did you manage- ☆ you’re out of touch - sophie gains debuff, ‘you’re out of touch,’ and has lowered resistance to electronics and certain forms of technology.

#( in which we learn about the eldest ; headcanons )#( verse: ¿cual tu vas a ser? dentro del espejo ves; ¿algiuen más en ese cuerpo? | yni )

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awakenmypower · 4 years

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IMAGINE Feeling Beautiful/ Valued

I saw this quote on insta talking about “imagine the first time you felt valued or beautiful was as someone else’s fetish.”

Now being this voluptuous black woman that i am, that’s probably the only time i felt beautiful. I feel like society constantly tell me to hate myself, my body, my skin, my blackness, my feminine prowess, like everything and the COUNTER culture tells me to love myself because of myself--> so the mix message i get is love myself in spite of myself. And i mean of course these are toxic thoughts but yo girl was raised toxically. I never felt beautiful because i was always the fat kid and my dad and grandma made sure that I knew it, internalized it and lived it. So i didn't walk the world the same way these other girls did. I never thought i was pretty, i still only think i’m pretty when others tell me i’m gorgeous or i take a selfie that reflects it in my eyes. realistically, my face is my money maker. I often am the girl that gets looked over because they see my body first, I’m not something you can through around, i got some girth to me. but literally once they look me in the face, they stop and realize damn i could really talk with you too. but that’s the thing im not always trying to be someone’s second choice. i want to be the lat and only choice. but that’s the reality that i’ve been reduced to have i guess. So i don't know what its like to navigate this world in a way to truly understand that guys have to do so much work to get the girls attn. That something i just heard this guy say. I was like dang...it must be sooo tough, imagine what it was lie being the ugly girl yo whole life. Guys NEVER tried with me until i grew into my facial features. but that whole topic is a whole other conversation for another time, that opinion was offered by a man that i was about to date that basically said naw its not gonna work out because i’m (me) to inexperienced. I’m just like off of one conversation you got that bet, but i dont wanna have to prove myself to my supposed lover/husband/companion. That leads to a complicated life. I just want to love and be loved.

i veered way off back to the actual quote. The first time I ever felt beautiful was when i was at a grocery store (superior by USC pre-new USC gentrification) shopping and this man was looking at dog food. As i walked past him, he was picking up the bag of food and was like “wow, you’re gorgeous,” and then he like sped walked away lmao. If that ain’t the story of my whole life. I must be some type of entity if I have never seen myself as beautiful but be out here intimidating folk with my beauty lmao. How sway? annyways, the most recent time i was called beautiful or really just actually felt beautiful in my own skin was when i was with Desmond. Desmond made me realize that i need to have more love for myself and start seeing myself as beautiful because with him knowing me for less than 24 hours and literally just going in about how gorgeous i was to him in every single light...and i mean EVERY SINGLE light....all the light, i had to do better. I had to appreciate my own beauty, i have to do a better job still because i still can’t believe it. WHen im in the body, altho my friends want me to be not fatphobic, it’s engrained in me to consider myself less desireable in this body.

SO i talked about beauty, but that whole valued bit.......i’ve never felt that, unless it was conditional of my academic achievement or my friendships. And i think with how much i dislike mself and maybe even dont know myself, if my friends are a reflection of me, then I have to be Dope AF. They make my life worth living, they keepme up, and push me to keep going, they believe in me more than i belive in yself and that’s on some pure craziness. But im not gonna lie, i think my singleness has been hitting a little too hard recently because I’ve had some NIGGAS come into my life and not value me, and in return it’s making me think im not valuable. I know external locus of control. #helpless #victimmindset I’m trying to rise above but i have a hard time not letting outsdie sources, situation, and things (NOUNS) have the final say for my feelings. Lastly, did i mention that i’m an INFP-T, the struggle and the depth of this struggle is AUTHENTIC.

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nocturne-inuyasha-ff · 5 years

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Nocturne - Midnight Fantasies, Morning Revelations

Nocturne - Chapter Four: Midnight Fantasies, Morning Revelations

Rated - M (for suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, and coarse language)

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

Kagome could feel a soft pressure on the inside of her leg, but it was not enough to pull her from her entirely out from the land of dreams. She did not want to leave those dreams, warm and carefree, to face the harshness of reality just yet. The pressure rose higher in a slow, almost tentative movement. The feeling trailed back down, teasing her skin as the flesh pulled into taunt gooseflesh. Then the touch trailed back up, slower now, rising higher and higher. When finally, the touch reached the apex of her thighs, a heavy weight lowered itself onto her legs.

Eyelids fluttering, still blurry with sleep, Kagome looked to find a silver glow between her legs. The covers had been thrown back, allowing the heat to dissipate into the cold of the room. Any remaining heat she had left in her body flooded all down to her lower half.

Before any more thought could be strung together, or words uttered, a soft touch caressed her most intimate area. She sucked in a breath, languishing in the sudden feeling of pleasure. Her legs fell open shamelessly at the beckoning and Kagome mindlessly moaned, perhaps a name; she wasn't sure.

The pressure was warm and wet as it touched her, gliding over her sensitive folds. Her fingers wrapped around the silver strands positioned between her legs. The sensation that mounted in her core caused her to flush, her body now reinvigorated. Euphoric intensity began to build within her. The urgency of her need began to overwhelm her already foggy state. Kagome's eyes were slits, and through her sleepful haze, she was brought closer and closer to consciousness.

Golden eyes and a crescent moon flashed briefly through her vision before she squeezed her own eyes shut as the climax engulfed her, sending her over the edge in waves. A breathy cry escaped her lips, and she gripped, white-knuckled, onto the strands of silver. Her eyes flew open, and she bolted upright, her need for something more overcoming her.

Kagome panted softly and looked around the dimly lit room. Looking between her legs, there was...nothing. Her hands were wrapped tightly around her covers. She loosed her grip and scanned the room again. There was nothing out of place, and she was alone in the small abode.

'Did I just dream that?' she wondered sheepishly.

To have such an intense and realistic dream made her feel a little shameful — what a lustful woman she was becoming. A blush crept over her face once she realized who she had dreamed. Raising a hand to her mouth in a thoughtful gesture, she waved away the notion.

'No, I musn't drudge those memories up,' she scolded herself.

The room was cold, the embers of the hearth which heated the house pitifully low. Kagome shivered and rose to bring the fire back to life. Once she'd completed that task, wakefulness had settled too much upon her for sleep to come back quickly. Oddly enough, her dream had not satiated her hunger, leaving her desirous for more. She pushed the thought away, shoving it down deep. She prepared an herbal tea and sipped the steaming concoction, thinking the dream over and over. It made her middle clench in an exciting sensation.

'How can I be thinking about this?!' she demanded of herself.

Setting her cup down forcefully, she rose up and walked over to the door. Her hand rose and settled on the wall as if touching something on the other side. Now she was being silly. It would seem that living on the edge of a village and being alone led to ridiculous tendencies: dreams, notions, and the like.

The herbal tea began to take its intended effect, and Kagome made her way back to her futon to sleep before the sun started its zenith. There were only a couple of hours left of darkness and village life started early. She longed to be well-rested when tending to the needs of others so she settled in to sleep, all the while praying no more dreams would come her way.

When the sun rose, Kagome woke to the sound of birdsong outside. She found it irksome that even 500 years in the past, she had to wake early. Back when she was still a child she had naively thought that people in the past slept in because they lacked alarm clocks. Now she knew the truth. Nature had a gripping way of reminding one that life would not wait. Whether it be the call of the birds outside, the pressing need to relieve oneself after a night of sleep, or the steady reminder that food had to be made - from scratch no less - and food cost money which had to be earned through hard work. In a sense, sleep was a commodity that many could not afford.

She set to her morning chores, which consisted of putting the bedding away, setting up the hearth and cleaning up any old cinders, drying herbs, and fetching water from the local water supply. She usually tried to gather water before the sun rose, but since winter had set in, she waited until the sun rose high enough to provide some level of warmth.

Today, it was hidden behind a cover of grey clouds, and Kagome sighed as she set out with her carrying pole to the river. Usually, Inuyasha would fetch the water for their home since he could carry more and return quickly, but while he was gone, Kagome had to shoulder all of the household chores, quite literally. On her return trek, she paused when she heard her name called aloud.

"Kagome!"

Kagome set her load down carefully and turned around. She knew from the voice that Sango was coming her way. The woman waved heartily once she saw that Kagome had heard her and Kagome waved back. The former taijiya jogged over and hugged her friend.

"Kagome, it's been days since I've seen you!" Sango exclaimed.

"I suppose it has!" Kagome considered. She'd not given thought to the absence of her friend these past few days; her mind preoccupied. "I'm sorry, I've been a bit distracted and busier than I'd intended."

Sango gave Kagome an assessing glance, looking her up and down with a peculiar look on her face.

"Well," she began, "I figured something was up since you missed dinner last night."

The realization hit her like a hammer, "Oh my! I'm so sorry, Sango! I completely forgot about it. Please forgive me."

Sango waved her off. "It's fine. The girls missed you, but the boys couldn't be bothered. Katsu is going through this stage where he finds all girls disgusting, and little Hiro does whatever his elder brother does, so…" she trailed off.

"Well, I am sure I can make it up to them tonight?" Kagome suggested. "I don't have anything special planned."

Sango smiled broadly, "Not unless the men return, that is."

Kagome forced a laugh. "Right," she said with a small, forced smile that seemed to belie her true feelings.

Sango sighed and put a friendly hand on Kagome's shoulder.

"Listen, the real reason I've come is to check up on you. I saw young Rin yesterday evening, and she told me that you took a tumble."

Kagome looked off to her side. She didn't want her friends to worry about her. There was so much else to worry about, and she didn't need them burdening themselves fearing for her wellbeing.

"Oh, that. Yes, I think I was overworked and dehydrated."

"Dehydrated?" Sango questioned.

"Um, when you don't have enough water," Kagome supplied.

Sometimes what seemed simple common sense was unknown to the people of the Fuedal Era. Kagome had a hard time recalling what was considered modern medicine and what was not. Something that every school-age child knew of - germs - were still undiscovered and unknown in this day and age. Kagome thought it common sense to wash her hands, boil rags, or keep medical utensils clean, whereas the people of the era did not share her concern.

Sango nodded, "That makes sense, I suppose."

She looked to her left and her right to make sure no one was listening. The village had ears in every direction and larger mouths. Word would travel fast if one were not careful. Kagome noticed that Sango seemed to brighten when she assured herself that no one was around.

"So, tell me, Kagome. What ails you? Truly?"

Kagome felt a little taken aback at her direct question. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Sango gave her a sheepish look. "You cannot fool me. I've been with child enough to know your symptoms are not from 'de-hi-dray-tion,'" she attempted the unfamiliar word.

A shocked expression crossed Kagome's features, and Sango felt a little dubious. "You can't mean to tell me you didn't know? You? The miko who knows all of the gloriousness of healing from your future world?"

When Kagome still did not respond, instead, standing almost listless in front of her, Sango began to feel concern.

"Kagome! Perhaps you are truly not well. Come," she said and grabbed up the carrying pole. "Let's get you back to your home and discuss."

Sango guided her friend back to her dwelling. Once inside, Sango sat the water down and approached Kagome who seemed to be internally at war with herself.

"Let's sit," she said and guided Kagome to the floor. "You are even paler than usual," Sango said softly.

Kagome was, indeed, at war on the inside. She felt surges of happiness and shock and tinges of fear.

"I…" she began. "I did know, I think. I just hadn't admitted it to myself."

"Well, you've been childless for so long I was beginning to think that Inuyasha was impotent!" Sango exclaimed.

"Haha," Kagome let out a nervous laugh. "I suppose not. Otherwise, how could I be...pregnant?" she nearly choked on the word.

Sango turned serious. "You do not look as excited as I would have expected. Are you sure you are alright?"

"I'm fine," was her response and not a convincing one.

Sango wore a skeptical look and assessed her friend again, trying to see if her gaze could crack Kagome open.

"Right, well, I am excited for you, and I am certain that Inuyasha will be ecstatic once he learns the news."

Kagome's eyes snapped wide. She hadn't considered Inuyasha. She'd been so caught up in her thoughts, not allowing herself to see the truth and what that may imply, that it had caught her off guard.

"Are you afraid of his reaction?" Sango asked, inferring from her friend's actions. "I, too, was nervous to tell Miroku that I was with child. Even though I knew it was what he had wanted, I still felt trepidation."

She gave Kagome a reassuring hug. "Once I told him, he surprised me with his tender reaction, and I could not have felt more love for the man."

Sango sat back and smiled, thinking about it. "And here I am...four children later."

"I know it's silly. I've wanted this for so long. I'm just afraid that it won't be what he wants," Kagome said.

"He would be a fool to assume that coupling would never result in children. Even more a fool to pass up the chance to create a family with you," Sango told her. "In fact, if he acts anything more than over the moon with happiness, you tell me, and I will knock him out," she said levelly.

A burst of real laughter erupted from Kagome. Sango had a way of putting things into perspective. Kagome only wished that she could tell her friend her genuine fear, but the past events would be misconstrued into something else entirely, and Kagome had not yet determined how to deal with this perturbing turn of events.

She mentally shook herself back to reality, "Thank you, Sango. I appreciate all that you've done."

"You know I would do practically anything for you. Just as you've done for me. I love you as a sister, and I'm so excited for you," Sango said tenderly, pulling Kagome into another embrace.

The woman was much too pleased with Kagome's condition, likely so she would have another person with which to commiserate. The other village women seemed a little vapid for Sango's tastes. She preferred to hold a meaningful conversation, one that included battling techniques or demon-slaying, which the local women did not consider appropriate conversation topics for women.

"I consider you a sister, too, Sango. Thank you again. I'm glad to have you through this...process," she said gesturing to her middle. "But, um, do you think that Kaede and Rin know?"

Sango gave her a knowing smile. "Of course Kaede suspects, and Rin...well she is a chatterbox and probably the most gossip-mongering person I know, but she is not blind. Neither is she disloyal to her friends. You've nothing to worry over until you are ready to share the news yourself. Though, I cannot imagine who more you could tell outside of the men."

Just thinking that Rin knew made Kagome's heart sink into the pit of her stomach. Rin was loyal and would not tell anyone. Well, there was someone she would trust enough to understand, and that was the last person that Kagome wanted to know about her condition.

"Can I share something with you?" Kagome asked. She must have looked quite pitiful once Sango's expression turned from joyous to concerned.

"Of course," she said.

"I-I assumed that Inuyasha and I could not have children," she divulged.

"What would make you think that? Just because you had not been with child yet, does not mean you are not capable. Sometimes it takes a while for a pair to be fully compatible," Sango tried to assure her.

'Compatible,' Kagome thought. What a word to use. "Well, there's that, and sometimes, hybrids cannot reproduce."

Sango's lip curled up in confusion, her brow knit together. "What?"

"You know that Inuyasha is half human and half yokai, right?"

"Yes, I am familiar with his lineage," Sango told her. "What does that have to do with it?"

"But have you ever seen a quarter yokai?" Kagome asked. "A diminutive version of a hanyou?"

"Kagome, are you afraid that Inuyasha will not want a child with you because it would be some sort of abomination?"

"No, that's not it. It's just that usually hybrids are sterile. Meaning they cannot have children." she explained.

Sango still looked confused. "I don't follow, but I do know that you are overthinking into this."

"You're right; I'm just overthinking this. I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't apologize. I was also very overcome with crazy thoughts. I even would have the most pleasantly, strange dreams! The things that pregnancy do to you may shock you, but I promise I will be here as well as the others."

Kagome smiled and sighed. Momentarily, she felt at ease. She thanked Sango profusely and entertained her for another hour before she had to return to her family.

"I will see you this evening for dinner," she said. "I need to get back before the young ones overwhelm Rin. I left them with her to come out here alone. I didn't think you'd want to have your tidy home trampled just yet," she winked.

Kagome dreaded the return of Inuyasha like none other. Her guilt racked her profoundly, and it often would make her sick. She honestly could not tell if she was experiencing morning sickness or if it was her mind eating at her. So, she was pregnant. She felt like she should be on one of those ridiculous American reality TV shows where the woman does not know who the father was and they parade around on stage asserting who they thought was the father, only for a DNA test to return shocking results. The only difference here was that there were no DNA tests.

She weighed her options frequently. She might have carried Inuyasha's child, and she hoped for that scenario since it would be the easiest to handle. On the other hand, she had done some studying on hybrids while she was sealed in the future. It was difficult to explain, and the science behind it made her head fuzzy, but the result is that two different species may only be compatible for one generation.

Yokai were something different, if not another species, she'd determined. This was much all too complicated to think about for any length of time. Kagome settled her mind on the fact that if she and Inuyasha could have a child together, it would have happened already. The timing between her night with Sesshomaru and her resulting pregnancy was just too perfect.

Anytime she thought about it at length, Kagome always ended up with the same conclusion, and it frightened her. If this were the daiyokai's child...what would the implications be? What would Inuyasha think? What would he do? She shook her head. She knew precisely what Inuyasha would do. He would turn into an uncontrollable rage-beast and attempt to kill his half-brother for impregnating 'his woman.'

However, if she did not tell Inuyasha, maybe he would assume this was his child. He knew nothing of the midnight tryst she and his brother had shared and had no notion of future genetics. Perhaps that was her best option. But could she live with the guilt? The constant fear eating away at her that Inuyasha would wise up and find out somehow? What if he could tell the child was not his own?

She shuddered at the thought and another heinous imagining popped into her mind. What if Sesshomaru knew? What would he do given his stance towards hanyos? Would he kill the child or her with it before the world was tainted with the knowledge that he had sired a mutt?

Kagome's head hurt with the swirl of 'what ifs.' She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears still found their way out to run down her face. It seemed that no matter what she did, she was doomed. She would lose everything, and no one would know or care that she was not to blame. But she felt at fault. She could have stopped the night from happening. She felt the call and the spell that had been wrapped around her. It would not have been difficult to break the spell, but she let curiosity get the best of her, and the lust that she felt when she realized who had been called to her side made her forget about any attempt at breaking it.

A creak in the floorboard announced the presence of a visitor to Kagome's abode. She opened her eyes to see Inuyasha in the doorway. Fear chained her to the floor, and guilt weighed her down. Inuyasha's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of her crying on the floor.

He quickly rushed to her side and knelt beside her, "Kagome?" he questioned gently. "What's wrong?"

She smiled and wiped her traitorous tears from her face. "Inuyasha!" she exclaimed. "You're home."

"I thought you'd be happy to see me," he said, nearly pouting. "Sango squealed and jumped into Miroku's arms."

"It-It's not that," she sniffled.

"Then, why are you crying? What's happened?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.

Kagome steeled herself and tried her best to look happy. "I'm...pregnant," she told him.

His face dropped into a blank expression for a split second as he processed the information. "What?" he said.

Kagome gave him a playful shove, trying to bring levity to the moment. "I said...I. Am. Pregnant."

"With my child?" he asked, his features starting to brighten.

Kagome knew that his question was a knee-jerk reaction from someone who had led a tumultuous life and still could not comprehend that anyone would live with him, let alone love him and give him a family. It caught her off guard, and she nearly admitted her doubt aloud.

"Why would you ask that, idiot?!" she asked offensively. She had half a mind to 'Sit' him then and there, but refrained.

"This is amazing news! We're finally going to have a pup of our own, and I can rub it in Miroku's nose!"

"I tell you I'm pregnant and all you can think about is defending your masculinity to the lecher monk? Doesn't it mean anything else to you?" she asked, a little appalled at his reaction.

He scooped her up into a big hug and nuzzled her neck. "Of course it does. It means everything to me," he said gently.

Kagome bit back the tears that threatened to spill out. Her mind was made up. She wouldn't tell him, nor could she.

Almost a month had passed, and spring had begun to tease its arrival. The cold had broken into something more bearable, but it still chilled all those who ventured out into it. Kagome had shared the 'official' news with her friends, and it was well-received by everyone, much to Kagome's internal chagrin. No one knew the truth. In reality, Kagome bore it all relatively well given the circumstances. She just had this foreboding feeling that something would happen, and soon.

Her ultimate fear was that someone would look at her and know her horrible secret. Most days, she would only feel the twinge of guilt once or twice a day, and she would need to take steadying breaths to clear her mind. Others were much more difficult. Kagome had a perfect excuse, though. She could use pregnancy ailments as a reason for her moments - or days - of strange behavior.

This day was one of the worst so far. Today, Kagome did not want to rise out of bed and face the day. The night before had been trying for her. Inuyasha had doted upon her, completing her chores, bringing her meals wherever she happened to be working, and being generally affectionate. He had not said an offensive word to her since she'd told him of her condition and that did nothing to settle her shame.

'How could she deceive him?' She would often wonder. Inuyasha had finished the night cuddling against her abdomen - which had begun to swell - and spoke to her unborn child. Had her circumstances been different, the moment would have been perfect.

Inuyasha had risen early this morning and completed her usual morning tasks only to return to find her bedridden.

He dashed to her side in concern, "Oi, Kagome? Are you okay? Why are you still in bed?" He paused. "Is it the baby?"

Kagome's internal anguish manifested itself into a sob.

"No, I do not feel well today... Hormones," she casually explained away.

The word was foreign to Inuyasha, and he just nodded and kissed her forehead.

"I have to go. There is fighting up north that is threatening to spill southward to the village," Inuyasha told her.

She rose up onto an elbow to give him her attention; her anguish was momentarily forgotten. He must have seen Miroku while out and about.

"Why?" she asked. Her question was not inquiring why he was leaving but rather why there was fighting.

"Stupid people making stupid decisions. Humans fighting for power, the usual," he told her. "There've already been some people sent here asking for help. Some shogun is levying villages for men to support him in a campaign or something. I don't know the specifics, just that those idiots are going around killing people. If you want details, ask Miroku. I'm just going along to send a message of my own." A sinister grin crossed his face, and that mischievous look nearly made Kagome smile.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Fuck with us, and I will come and fuck with you," he said darkly.

She nearly laughed. "Right, you go and dispatch the baddies. But how long will you be gone? This doesn't sound like the usual deal."

Inuyasha rolled up onto a shoulder and began to run his hand over Kagome's abdomen. "I don't know, Kagome. A week or two, maybe. Not long. I just gotta run through these people and I'll be back here."

"I see," she said. "I'm not going anywhere." She rose up and began putting her things away.

Inuyasha hopped up and began to follow her around the room, helping her to put things away. Kagome smiled, amused at his new penchant for assisting her. "What will I do once you're gone?" she asked jokingly.

"Well, I figured maybe you'd like it if Shippo were here?" he asked, shrugging.

Kagome stopped and turned on her heel, "What?"

Shippo had been away at Kitsune school, studying for his examinations. Kagome only saw him sparingly this past year since he was nearing the completion of his intermediate training. In fact, he'd not been back to the village since before she'd announced she was with child.

"Yeah, he came back this morning. I told him to wait outside while I told you about the trip. He wanted to surprise you, so act surprised or something."

"Since when does Shippo listen to you?" Kagome asked.

"Since I knocked him upside the head and told him that I'd always be able to clobber his ass no matter what type of training he thinks he has," Inuyasha answered. He crossed his arms and looked a little smug.

Without any prompting, the kitsune entered the house and dashed over to pull Kagome into a bear hug, spinning her around. "Oh!" Kagome exclaimed.

Inuyasha, arms still crossed, yelled, "Oi! Watch the goods runt!"

Shippo put Kagome down carefully. He'd grown to stand nearly her height, which astonished Kagome. He'd been so small for the longest time that Kagome hadn't thought he'd get much larger. How wrong she'd been. "Oh, Shippo! It's been too long this time!"

The kitsune's deeper voice surprised her. "It's only been a few months. I had to really study for that last exam," he told her. "But look!" he pointed out, turning around for her to see his backside. Three tails wagged in unison at her. "I got another one!" he said happily. "Now I have as many as papa did."

"Wow, look at that! You'll have an entire set in no time!" she said. She put her hands on her hips and admired his new tail.

"You know it!" he grinned. "Soooo," he began and looked down at her middle. Kagome gave him a confused look. Why was he looking at her like that? She wondered. "When are you planning on telling me about the bun in the oven? You finally let Inuyasha knock you up, huh?"

Inuyasha scowled and knocked Shippo on top of the head with a fist. "Fuck off…"

Kagome's eyes widened in surprise, "Wha...uh...I guess you know then. How did you know?"

Rubbing his head, Shippo ducked away from Inuyasha's swinging fist and ran behind Kagome.

"Yeah, hide behind a woman, you coward," Inuyasha growled.

Shippo grabbed Kagome's shoulders from behind and peeked over, laughing. "It's not difficult. I can sense it. I learned it in school. Something Inuyasha would know nothing about," he cajoled.

Inuyasha's eyes narrowed, and he cracked his knuckles maliciously. "Keep yapping, but just remember runt...you can't cower behind her forever."

"Chill out, Inuyasha, I'm just messing with you." Shippo plopped down on the floor next to the hearth and began to look through a pot of food, looking for anything edible and blatantly ignoring Inuyasha's empty threats.

With a growl and roll of his eyes, Inuyasha turned to exit the house. Kagome pulled an outer robe over her garments and stepped out behind him.

"Are you leaving right now?" Kagome asked hesitantly. Inuyasha had not gone far. He leaned against the exterior of the house, his arms still crossed.

"Yeah. Miroku's getting some things, and he'll meet me here," he answered.

"Be safe…" she said absently, her thoughts beginning to drift away.

"Keh, I ain't worried. And you shouldn't either, woman. Those humans can't do nothin to me," he assured her.

"Okay," she replied. She crossed her arms and looked towards the horizon where the village lie. Miroku would likely become visible in a moment or so. His proclivity for arriving punctually was one of his more endearing qualities.

Kagome brought a hand to her chin and crossed her other arm underneath. "Do you think that this skirmish is affecting the western lands?" she asked.

Inuyasha looked over at her, "Sesshomaru's land? I don't know. Why should I care?"

She shrugged, not meeting his gaze. "Curiosity, I guess. I'm thinking about Rin and how much she cares for him."

"Keh," Inuyasha scoffed. "I'm sure that asshole is doing just fine. I can't say much for the guy, but if anyone tries to fuck with him, they won't live to regret it."

Kagome pointed at a figure broaching the horizon; Miroku right on queue. The monk had a large pack strapped to his back and followed by Sango and their four children. The family exchanged their goodbyes at Kagome's house, and Miroku assured a speedy return. Sango bore a worried expression as her husband departed and pulled her children close while they waved him farewell. Inuyasha only lingered for a moment, pulling Kagome into a tender embrace and then walked off with Miroku into the distance.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Sango asked.

Kagome gave her friend a reassuring gaze. "With Miroku as the brains and Inuyasha the brawn, there's nothing that can stop that pair," she joked.

Sango sighed, "As long as he uses his big head and not his little one to think with…"

Kagome blushed and gestured to the children who now attacked Shippo in a heap of flying limbs.

Sango waved her off, "It's fine. They can't hear me."

Kagome chuckled and watched the children all pull at Shippo's tails and his clothes while he cried out, hamming it up. For once, she did not feel the fear or guilt and started to think that she could have this...family...with Inuyasha.

Sango called off her tiny warriors from their foe, and Shippo begged for mercy on his knees. "Oh please mighty taijiya-monk children, do not smite your dear old friend Shippo!"

The children all laughed and whined that they wanted to stay and slay the fox, but Sango ordered them off the Kitsune with a commanding voice. Once the children had been thoroughly cowed into submission and stood ready to leave, Sango turned to wish her friend goodbye. She hugged Kagome, giving her a wink.

"Someday, very soon, this will be all yours," she said, nodding her head towards the children who had begun to fight amongst themselves.

Kagome smiled and waved as the family made their way back to the village and their domicile. Shippo waved, too, holding Kagome by the shoulder companionably. Once he was sure they were gone, he leaned his head towards her.

"So, when are you planning on telling me what's really going on?" Shippo inquired.

#Chapter Four #Inuyasha #Returns #Shippo #Sango #Wet Dream #Desires #Longing

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