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cinnaminsvga · 5 years ago

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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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hxseok-honee · 4 years ago

Text

3005 || part 3

3005 [part 3] || “sound good, Princess?"

[no matter what you say and what you do // when i’m alone, i’d rather be with you]

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : I AM SUFFERING I HAVE MADE M I S T A K E S

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @lele-bb @monamone @unadulteratedlyunique @bluefaeriefury @hooniepie @loveyoongles @lilacdreams-00 @ramyagovindraj @skyrro @diminieshoe @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yuusilverscar @butterflylion @dingzerenistall @miki-chi @army-moa75 @drpepperobsessed @cecedrake2217 @somelazysundays @xxxanimangxxx @cosmicdaylight @navybluewonderland @itismochirice @dreadity @secretlycrazyhummingbird @taeshuworld @lochness-butmakeitsexy

_____________________________________

When Y/n steps into the forest clearing the next day, she finds that Hoseok’s not alone. There, seated on the large tree trunk near the cauldron where he stands, is her new acquaintance. Yoongi’s eyes flick up from the book he’s reading when he notices movement, Hoseok still having not seen her since his back is turned. Yoongi clears his throat to alert his boyfriend, but there’s a few seconds before he does so. He first takes his time holding eye contact with her, and she can see, even with a book in the way, that there’s a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. And then he’s blinking, returning his gaze to the page before him as he clears his throat.

Hoseok glances up from where he’s carefully filling vials of wolfsbane potion, glancing over his shoulder when Yoongi tilts his chin up, gesturing in Y/n’s direction with his head without ever moving his eyes from the page. Hoseok spins on his heel smoothly, grinning easily at Y/n.

“Princess! So kind of you to join us.” Even though she’s looking at Hoseok -- not really looking him in the eye, but still looking at him -- she sees Yoongi lift his head, and she wonders what he’s thinking about the nickname his own boyfriend’s given her. As if reading her mind, his opens his mouth, breathing out a laugh before he speaks.

“‘Princess’, huh? I wasn’t aware you were Cinderella -- you know, since you like pumpkins so much.” Yoongi meets her eyes again, that little smirk returning when she instinctively squints, glaring at him.

“I told you I hadn’t thought about the fact that they use the pumpkins for the food--”

“I’m just saying, I was wondering why the pieces of pumpkin in the soup the other day were so soft--”

“That’s not how that works!” Yoongi’s smirk widens, her reaction pleasing him endlessly. Hoseok only looks between them, eyes wide.

“Uh… do you two need a minute? Because I have no idea what’s going on here.” Yoongi breaks eye contact then, returning to his book.

“Your little wolf’s fond of Hagrid’s pumpkin patch.” Y/n flushes angrily, thrown both by the fact that he’d just referred to her as Hoseok’s little wolf and that he hadn’t even come close to properly explaining the situation.

“Okay, well your little boyfriend interrupted me in the midst of an existential crisis, which, frankly, is just rude.” Hoseok had been looking at Yoongi, also surprised at the name he’d given her, but he whirls around then, eyebrows hidden under his hair as he stares at her in shock. Yoongi also looks up, decidedly shutting his book and setting it down beside him before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, so that’s what you were doing! I wasn’t sure if that was just part of your regular lunchtime routine, or…” Y/n huffs loudly, and she feels herself growing frustrated by the obvious enjoyment Yoongi’s getting out of teasing her. But Hoseok’s reaction to their conversation surprises her enough to halt any irritation she would have felt.

“Okay -- you two are acting really weird… I mean, I can’t say much about Y/n since, apparently, she hates me enough to never talk to me, but Yoongi…” He looks his boyfriend over with surprise, causing Yoongi to deflate slightly after a moment. He uncrosses his arms, setting his hands in his lap as he shrinks shyly under Hoseok’s gaze. But it’s the way Yoongi’s ears are turning pink that tips Hoseok off, and he hums knowingly.

“I see--” He turns to Y/n then, the arrogant smirk she’d come to know over the years filling his face. “You’ll have to forgive him, Princess -- my little Prince isn’t the best at making friends.” Yoongi’s blush deepens, and he digs the toe of his converse sneakers into the dirt below him stubbornly. This is not the same Yoongi that had just derived joy from teasing Y/n, and she’s very surprised to see how quickly he changed. Glancing at Hoseok, she finds that he’s got his eyes on Yoongi, fondness dancing in his gaze as he smirks at his boyfriend. She decides then that their dynamic confuses her, but then she remembers what Hoseok had said.

“I don’t hate you…” Hoseok turns, eyes genuinely surprised that she hadn’t let the comment pass. Y/n only makes brief eye contact before looking away, never having been able to properly meet Jung Hoseok’s intense gaze for very long. “I don’t hate you.” She’d wanted to explain why she’s so shy around him -- that he intimidates her, probably without meaning to -- but she’d only repeated herself, unable to find any other words. She hears Hoseok snicker, and when she looks up, he’s got his back to her again, having returned to his potion.

“Well, that’s certainly nice to know. Maybe I should only give you one vial at a time -- then you’ll have to keep finding me every day, and I can finally get to know you.” There’s a pause, one where Y/n isn’t sure how to respond, but it ends when Hoseok glances over his shoulder at her with a toothy grin.

“I’m just fucking with you. I wouldn’t hold out on you like that.” He turns, holding a small container, one that she’s very familiar with. She steps further into the clearing, approaching the pair, head bent as she pretends to watch where she’s walking on the uneven ground -- a habit formed over the years so she doesn’t have to look Hoseok in the eye.

She stops when the little wooden box comes into view, and he hands it to her. But when she moves to pull away, he doesn’t let go, holding her there with the grip of his hand on the box of her vials. She looks up in surprise then, finally meeting his eyes without even thinking about it. She finds that Hoseok’s smirking, as usual, but it widens when she looks at him.

“There she is.” It’s whispered, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of her for a second while he says it, causing her breath to catch in her throat from the sheer effect of his overwhelming presence. She feels trapped by him, prey being mocked by that smirk.

Her eyes flick over to Yoongi, expecting to see some kind of reaction at her proximity to his boyfriend -- annoyance or irritation maybe -- but she finds that he’s only regarding Hoseok with eyes filled with intrigue. A thought seems to have crossed his mind when Hoseok had acted, because Yoongi’s examining his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, like he knows something she doesn’t. And when he finally glances at her, it seems the shy Yoongi that Hoseok had dragged out has disappeared again, leaving a new Yoongi who only looks her over with surprised interest.

She doesn’t even realize Hoseok’s released her vials, too stunned by the suddenness of the moment. When she looks down and sees that she’s the only one holding the box, she’s still not processing it, so she stays close to Hoseok -- much closer than she’d ever been before in the 4 years she’d known him. He’s warm, she notes -- his body heat is as overwhelming as his gaze, passing over her in waves as a reminder that he’s there while she stares down at the box, eyes wide.

She also notes that, while Jungkook is much the same, warmer than most due simply to an internal adjustment made to his body after becoming an animagus so young, this is not the same. Where she’d always found her brother obnoxiously warm and only tolerable on the coldest of nights, Hoseok’s warmth is surprisingly pleasant -- nothing more than a reminder that he’s there, living and breathing beside her. It’s oddly comforting to know that the cold, offputting boy she’d come to know is warm in some ways.

The moment comes crashing to an end with the sound of footsteps in the distance, realization hitting Y/n like a truck when she thinks of what this situation could seem like to someone else. Stumbling backwards until she’s about as far away from Hoseok as she’d been from the start, she barely even hears footsteps falling into line beside her, her heart still pounding in her ears.

“Oh, hey!” Glancing up at the sudden voice, her heart flies into her throat when she realizes it’s Remus that’s right beside her.

Am I just gonna have a heart attack here? This is how I die, is that it?

She can’t even manage to smile at Remus, too flustered by the entire situation. She only glances over at James and Sirius, who have come along to keep Remus company. They wave, smiling knowingly at the blush on her face -- on the tree trunk not far away, Yoongi smirks, knowing they aren’t aware of the whole truth of Y/n’s current state.

“Hey, Hoseok! Sorry again for having to cancel on you last night -- we, uh--” Remus hasn’t noticed Y/n’s frazzled existence, addressing Hoseok like nothing’s off about the situation. He points between himself and his friends, looking sheepish. “We got evening detention, so…”

Y/n chances a look at Hoseok then, seeing that he seems to have forgotten the entire moment with her, smiling politely at the Marauders while turning to grab Remus’ doses.

“Don’t worry about it, man. This one told me that his friend Jungkook had gotten into trouble, so I figured you might be in the same boat.” Hoseok nods over to Yoongi when he says ‘this one’, and the boys seem to only notice then that Yoongi’s there.

“Yoongi! It’s good to see you, man -- I feel like whenever we find Jungkook during lunch, you’re missing from the group.” James approaches the seated boy, clapping him on the back good-naturedly. Yoongi only nods, an easy smile coming to his features. He looks mildly uncomfortable, but it’s clear he and the Gryffindors are familiar with one another, and Y/n wonders briefly what Yoongi’s like as he gets to know someone.

She doesn’t even see that he’s meeting her eyes curiously until he responds, his voice bringing her back to reality. She watches as he doesn’t look away, eyes locked on hers as he speaks, that infuriating smirk making another appearance.

“Yeah, sorry about that -- I’m usually busy during lunch.” Y/n’s mind flashes to when she’d accused Yoongi of interrupting her existential crisis during lunch, not ten minutes prior. She flushes, that annoying pounding of her heart growing when she sees that the comment is lost on James, his words meant strictly for her. Remus shifts next to her, and when she glances up, she sees that he’d noticed the moment, looking between her and Yoongi with curiosity. He clears his throat, shooting her a quick grin as he addresses Hoseok again.

“Well, I’m glad I ran into this one at breakfast today and heard you guys were meeting now -- I’d hate to take more time out of your schedule.” Remus reaches out, brushing his fingers along the inside of her wrist when he calls her ‘this one’, referencing Hoseok’s previous comment about Yoongi jokingly. Y/n’s eyes widen as she glances down at her wrist, watching as Remus’ fingers slide off of her skin before returning to his side, where he lets his arm hang.

She glances away quickly, trying not to make a big deal of the gesture, and she ends up catching Hoseok’s expression as her eyes pass over him. Remus had meant the comment innocently, of course, but the look in Hoseok’s eyes -- cold, hardened eyes that gaze emotionlessly at the spot where she and Remus had just made contact before flicking up to meet Remus’ eyes -- tells her that maybe he doesn’t like that she’s being referred to in the same way Hoseok had referred to Yoongi.

She’s not sure why -- a personal association to the words, an inside joke between the boyfriends, perhaps -- but Hoseok’s teeth are clenched, his jaw locking and unlocking as he smiles in response, and it sets her skin on fire. He’s not even looking at her, gaze trained evenly on Remus, but she feels the heat of his glare, very different from the heat she’d felt radiating off of him earlier.

“It’s no problem -- I’d have been happy to reschedule.” The words are understanding, but there’s an edge to them, the tone in his voice razor sharp. Y/n glances up at Remus and finds that he’s already looking down at her, his eyebrows raised as he looks at her knowingly.

“I get the Look all the time… just me though…”

Y/n blinks, confused as she remembers what he’d said to her yesterday. She looks to Hoseok, but when he flicks his eyes over to her, his gaze softens, and he looks away and scratches at his neck awkwardly. Behind him, Yoongi is looking at the back of his boyfriend’s head, eyes curious as he glances between Hoseok and Remus. His expression is fairly even, but Y/n can see that he’s been making silent observations when he finally smiles to himself and lowers his gaze to his lap, twiddling his thumbs as he thinks.

Hoseok moves to hand the box of vials to Remus after a moment, still slightly awkward from his obvious display of annoyance as he approaches them. When he passes the doses to Remus, he takes a moment to glance at Y/n, eventually reaching over to tap a single finger on the top of her own container.

“Don’t let me find out you aren’t taking these with food like last year -- sound good, Princess?” Y/n inhales sharply, only having heard the name when they’re relatively alone. Remus’ jaw drops, accompanied by James choking on his own spit and Sirius making some kind of strangled noise behind his hand. She looks past Hoseok to see Yoongi smiling widely, eyes dancing with amusement.

Nodding quickly, Y/n lowers her gaze and turns, pushing past Remus as she heads for the path back to the castle. Remus follows, stunned, and James hops off of his seat, not even bothering to wave at Yoongi as he and Sirius take off after Y/n, their teasing voices ringing out through the forest as they go.

Hoseok watches them leave, Yoongi only watching Hoseok. Finally, the boy on the tree trunk hums, eyes trained on the side of his boyfriend’s face as he speaks.

“So… She’s interesting.” Hoseok doesn’t take his eyes off of Y/n’s back, shrinking in the distance as she and the Marauders walk back to the castle. He swallows hard, sighing softly before responding.

“She’s certainly something.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #jung hoseok #min yoongi #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #bts poly au

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azenkii · 5 years ago

Text

Sokka/Suki/Zuko Brotp Headcanons

These three are a god-tier brotp and i'm here to prove it

100% that one friend group who does the stupidest, most impulsive shit but they’re also super nerdy at the same time?

Like they'll be left alone together and you can guarantee that by morning they'll have broken into several heavily guarded government buildings. But like,,they didn't even steal anything important? they just wanted to see if they could find bosco's birth records and figure out why he's a regular bear

The last time they got drunk together they woke up on the Beifongs' roof in librarian's robes with a fully labelled diagram of a nonbending submarine in front of them

Suki and zuko braid each other's hair and sokka got jealous that he couldn't join in so he grew out his hair until it was long enough to braid

Suki teaches zuko how to fight with kyoshi warrior fans and he's absolute shit at it

In return, he teaches her how to fight with dual broadswords and she is not shit at it, which zuko thinks is unfair

all three of them spar together, all the time

sokka’s the unofficial leader of the group

he’s almost always the one who suggests the dumb/smart ideas

suki and zuko are pretty much on the same wavelength as him when it comes to plans so whenever he suggests something it goes like

sokka: so you guys know the new ozai society? well i was thinking about the pipes under the city-

suki: that’s a great plan. dibs on scouting the eastern block, zuko can you-?

zuko, nodding: the night market? on it

no one else can ever eavesdrop on their conversations because they just don’t make sense

the story of their escape from the boiling rock becomes legendary and they make a game out of retelling it. every time someone asks about it they’ll add something new. eventually the story ends up involving a platypus bear named Mai II, Chit Sang’s identical twin, a rope made out of bedsheets and three separate riots

sokka and zuko thought for a solid year that suki didn’t really like drinking because she always ended up relatively sober whenever they went out. turns out she drinks more than both of them combined and she’s just really, really good at holding her liquor

the amount of decrees they’ve passed while drunk is honestly ridiculous. only half of these decrees were cancelled afterwards because the other half actually made sense

suki once genuinely threatened to throw hands with one of zuko’s ministers. her reasoning was ‘he kept making weird faces whenever sokka suggested anything’

sokka and suki once ganged up against zuko. they called it ‘nonbenders solidarity’

zuko retaliated by creating a super-secret best-buds-only handshake with toph and they did it in front of sokka and suki whenever they could. sokka and suki eventually went ‘okay OKAY we GET IT also can you please...teach us the handshake it looks really cool’ and zuko was like ‘hm. no i dont think i will’

he then proceeded to drive them insane by immediately teaching the handshake to everyone he knew. aang? knew it. katara? knew it. mai and ty lee? knew it. every single one of his ministers knew it. the kyoshi warriors knew it (and wouldn’t tell suki). hakoda knew it. iroh knew it. that random regular visitor to iroh’s tea shop knew it.

sokka and suki gave up on ever learning the handshake. exactly one (1) day later zuko and sokka were playing their own modified version of pai sho with suki watching them and then zuko just casually went ‘so now that you’ve given up do you want to learn the handshake’

sokka and suki went FERAL and suki flipped the board

sokka: HOW DID YOU KNOW WE GAVE UP

also sokka, exactly 0.02 seconds later: also yes please teach us the handshake sifu hotman

the handshake is the stupidest most needlessly-complicated thing in the world but they learn it anyway and they don’t stop using it for approximately a month

and oh did i not mention that they made their own version of pai sho? they call it die sho and it features 16 homemade tiles and a set of rules that only suki understands. one game can last anywhere from 2 minutes to 2 days

they once wrote a book together under the pseudonym Wang Kyo-Lee. The book was a 500-page rant about plant husbandry. it became a bestseller in the earth kingdom.

they also once did a role swap for a day. zuko dressed up as a kyoshi warrior/the fire lord’s elite guard (complete with makeup to hide his scar), sokka was acting fire lord, and suki was his water tribe ambassador. that was how they discovered that they worked together so much that their jobs were literally interchangeable

there are rumours that the three of them are involved in a poly relationship. when asked, none of them will give a definitive answer

sometimes they’ll just go on holiday to some random obscure place without telling anyone and come back four days later with a frog, three new swords, a crate of theatre props and a valuable compilation of historical accounts that’s been lost for over a century

the most memorable thing they ever brought back was druk, aka a literal dragon

out of the three of them, suki makes the best tea. however, she’s also the worst cook

sokka learnt how to knit and promptly made them matching scarves. the scarves were ugly af but suki and zuko wore them anyway

when zuko overworks himself sokka and suki will literally manhandle him away from his desk and into his chambers, all while lecturing him as he nods sleepily and dozes on his feet

when suki overworks herself sokka and zuko will bring her tea and wrap her in blankets until she eventually falls asleep

when sokka overworks himself suki and zuko will drag him out somewhere under the open air and just sit with him until he relaxes and falls asleep on one or both of them

they have a running joke where suki and zuko will, in the middle of a discussion, go ‘GODS you remind me of this one guy i met while i was travelling’ and then proceed to describe sokka until he realises they’re talking about him

they all have a very dark sarcastic sense of humour that can honestly be alarming to anyone who doesn’t know them. mai thinks it’s hilarious

suki knows how to juggle. she tries to teach sokka and zuko and they both fail miserably

sokka takes them ice-dodging. sokka (once again) earns the mark of the wise. suki earns the mark of the brave. zuko earns the mark of the trusted.

(does zuko earning the mark of the trusted make him cry? perhaps)

hakoda takes one look at suki and zuko and immediately goes ‘oh ok youre my children now’

zuko can handle himself pretty well in the cold (breath of fire, remember?) but that doesn’t mean he likes it. sokka and suki constantly tease him about it whenever they visit the south pole

zuko once startled suki while she was sleeping and she accidentally chi blocked him. sokka laughed until he cried

they 100% have heated debates about super niche topics

anyway they’re all bffs who may or may not be dating each other send tweet

#atla #headcanons #sokka #zuko #suki #zukki #platonic zukki #zukka #sukka

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dying-suffering-french-stalkers · 3 years ago

Text

wendy again no problem (18 jan. 2022)

“I should make this a regular thing!” she said and failed and also died

ANYWAY, first blog-shaped post of the new year, hopefully I will be able to do this about once a week but I ain’t promising a particular day just yet

READING: I have not done as much reading lately as I would like :/ I am still chipping away at Star Wars: Ronin and enjoying it so far. I also acquired MDZS vol. 1 and physical copies of Gideon and Harrow the Ninth (I read the latter two late last year), as well as the complete storyboards for Hayao Miyazaki’s Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro (1979). Someday my will to sit down and read will return long enough for me to make some gosh dang progress.

EDIT: Ah, I almost forgot! At work this week I read some of The Secret History of the Mongols, an epic 13th century Mongolian text on Genghis Khan. You can read it in English for free here. This reading choice was inspired by the listening section below.

WATCHING: @stardustalix and I are still slowly streaming The Untamed together; I believe we just finished Episode 15. I think we both lost it a little at the Homoerotic Cave Scenes (TM) a few episodes ago. Unfortunately I don’t think I have anything constructive to say about the show at this point, but I’m at least having fun!

I watched some more of Lupin III: Part 6 despite my better judgement previous lack of investment. I watched the second Mamoru Oshii episode (ep. 10) just for funsies: it was weird, but nowhere near as weird as I’d expected it to be, and it was a surprisingly good Fujiko-centric ep. After that, I skipped right past eps. 11-12 because I really could not give less of a shit about the Sherlock Holmes arc and reading the Wikipedia episode summaries was enough for me. Episodes 13 and 14, however, were rather shockingly decent; it’s the first time ANYTHING this season has felt like Lupin to me, and they did so with a good helping of domestic LupGang (esp. JigLup) content to boot! We got to learn another piece of Lupin’s backstory, and so far, it seems competently written and I actually don’t hate it! We shall see how the rest of this arc plays out. I quite liked Mercedes, Lupin’s one-off, pink-haired rival here, and I really liked seeing a darker side of Lupin at the end of episode 14 even if he ultimately pulled his punch, so to speak. Now that’s something I’d love to see explored more, especially if they’re going to restrain themselves and do the gd character work instead of just pure, unexplored edge. (Unrelated to whatever Lupin’s up to, man, this must be a rough season for Zenigata stans. The man’s barely showed up at all and he’s always accompanied and restrained by other characters instead of getting to be his true, unhinged, Lupin-obsessed self.)

I need to watch more of the new Lupin III: Part 1 dub, which thankfully seems to be getting better after the disastrous first episode (though to be fair that’s a rough episode all around). I LOVED the episode 7 dub, especially the iconic ending scene with Lupin and Goemon, but the whole thing was honestly great. Lang and Ruff in particular never disappoint.

Since I haven’t made one of these since last year, here are all the movies I’ve watched so far in 2022: The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947), Lupin III: Dragon of Doom (1994), Encanto (2021), Raya and the Last Dragon (2021), Nightmare Alley (1947), Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (2021), and about half of Vertigo (1958) before I got too sleepy and had to stop for the night.

LISTENING: This past week or so’s albums of choice (for my morning and evening commute) were:

The Gereg - The Hu (recommended tracks: “Yuve Yuve Yu”, “Wolf Totem”, “The Great Chinggis Khaan” - Xiran Jay Zhao mentioned Mongolian rock in one of their videos, blessedly reminding me of how much this band slaps)

Sketches of Spain - Miles Davis (recommended track: “Concierto de Aranjuez” - Lupin fans, if you like Jigen’s “Tornado” theme, this is the piece it took inspiration from)

Blue in Green - Miles Davis (secretly Jigen at it again, because the title track was mentioned in this fantastic fic which everyone should read)

Encanto - soundtrack (all the sung tracks are bangers but “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” has gone particularly viral for a reason)

I did take a history of jazz course in college which left me with latent semi-informed Jazz Enjoyer Tendencies, so while it was weeb reasons that brought me back to it this week, I was glad to be reminded that hey, I like this music, I should listen to it more often.

PLAYING: A rare category!! This week I finally, finally started playing Disco Elysium after @sybilius, @jacopo-belbo, and @venhediss all enthusiastically recommended it to me over the last year or so. Stat-wise, I went with 2 Intellect, 3 Psyche, 4 Physique, and 3 Motorics, with Visual Calculus as my Signature Skill. Gameplay-wise, I haven’t even gone to look at the body in the courtyard yet because 1) I’m being thorough and 2) this game ate my laptop battery for some reason (will try turning down the graphics more next session), but I have at least talked to Kim (!!) and Garte the Cafeteria Manager. So far the vibes and the soundtrack are impeccable. I also discovered that I’ve been mentally mispronouncing Revachol for over a year (while I’d had the stress right, I’d assumed the ch was more of a k, like in cholera or alcohol, certainly not sh).

I’ve also been kicking relative ass in Duolingo Japanese, so, there’s that. I made it all the way to the Amethyst League but I’m not sure if I’ll bother keeping up with the leaderboard as much at this level; we shall see. Material-wise, I’ve mostly got the hiragana down and am beginning to learn the katakana, and I have learned a few conversational basics (poorly explained as Duolingo is wont to do, but a lengthy Discord call with my brother helped clear some things up and give me a preview of some grammatical stuff that might appear soon).

OTHER: It snowed here!!! :D I also made very tasty ramen for everyone on Thursday or Friday night and then a big batch of beef stew on Saturday.

Goodnight mes amis, sleep well, I’ll most likely subject you to more of the usual nonsense in the morning.

#tuesday again no problem #wendy again no problem #long post #personal

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killerandhealerqueen · 3 years ago

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Hi! i love all of your jobs and i was wondering if you could write something with this prompts? like any of this

- An insecure Zhan Zhao

-A drunk Zhan zhao mistaking Bai jintang for Yutong

- And Bai yutong "forgetting" Zhan Zhao's birthday and instead of spending the day with him he goes out with Feng jie (in my mind he just mistook the days and though his birthday was the next day)

(Although i already asked someone the third one i don't have high hopes of them responding me so :') )

Well, if that other person won't answer that third prompt, then I will anon. Don't you fucking worry.

Zhan Yao was never really a big fan of his birthday. To him, it was just a day that he had been born on, nothing special, nothing really worth celebrating. When he was growing up, he had gotten the occasional “happy birthday” from his parents, and maybe a present if his father was feeling generous, but his birthday had never really been a birthday until he met Bai Yutong. Bai Yutong made his birthdays fun and made him…not hate his birthdays. Which was something he never thought he would ever say. ~*~*~*~*~*~ It was a regular end of a workday at the S.C.I. office and Zhan Yao was packing up his things to head home for the evening when he saw Bai Yutong heading out, making him raise an eyebrow. “Yutong?” he called out, making Bai Yutong pause before he walked over to his door and poked his head in. “Yeah Cat?” he asked. Zhan Yao tilted his head at him. “Where are you going?” he inquired. Bai Yutong smiled. “Out for drinks with Feng Jie. Why, you wanna come with?” he asked. Zhan Yao’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “No, no…I’m…okay” he replied. Bai Yutong frowned. “You sure? I don’t think he would mind if you tagged along” he assured. Zhan Yao smiled at him, but it was thin and pained. “No. Go have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow” he bid. Bai Yutong smiled and nodded before he stepped away from his office and headed out of the headquarters, the other S.C.I. members watching him leave in shock before they looked towards Zhan Yao’s office. “Did Bai Sir just…” Wang Shao started when Zhan Yao sighed and stepped out of his office, shutting the door behind him. “Did Bai Sir just forget that today was my birthday? Yes” he answered. Bai Chi shook his head. “But Dr. Zhan, why didn’t you say something?!” he exclaimed as Ma Han nodded. “It’s you. Bai Sir never forgets anything when it comes to you” she added. Zhan Yao shook his head. “Maybe he did this time…it’s fine. It’s not like people haven’t forgotten my birthday before” he murmured before he looked at the S.C.I. members and smiled, even though there were tears in his eyes. “Don’t stay here too late, hmm?” he instructed before he headed out of the office, leaving the S.C.I. members to finish up their work. As soon as he was gone, everyone looked at each other in shock. “What the hell?! I can’t believe Bai Sir completely forgot about Dr. Zhan’s birthday!” Bai Chi exclaimed. “I know, that’s so unlike him” Jiang Ling agreed. “Maybe he’s pretending to forget Zhan Yao’s birthday to surprise him later?” Zhao Fu offered. Ma Han shook her head. “No…he genuinely looked like he had no idea what day it was” she replied. Bai Chi frowned. “Why didn’t Dr. Zhan say something though?” he asked. Ma Han huffed and looked over at him. “You know how Dr. Zhan is…non-confrontational” she reminded. The other S.C.I. members hummed in agreement as Jiang Ling frowned. “Do you think Bai Sir’s going to remember Dr. Zhan’s birthday or…not?” she asked. Wang Shao huffed. “I hope so…or I’d never talk to him again” he grumbled. Zhao Fu rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic” he murmured. Wang Shao huffed. “What, it’s the truth!” he exclaimed. The others rolled their eyes before they went back to work, their hearts still hurting for Zhan Yao that Bai Yutong forgot his birthday.

~*~*~*~*~*~ Meanwhile, Bai Yutong and Feng Jie were sitting outside of a street vendor’s stall, enjoying their beers and their snacks when Feng Jie looked at him. “What made you decide to want to hang out today?” he asked. Bai Yutong shrugged. “It’s been a long week and I wanted to catch up with my friend while drinking. Is that such a bad thing?” he replied. Feng Jie laughed and shook his head. “No, no, I just thought you’d’ve had other plans this evening” he replied. Bai Yutong shook his head. “Nope, no other plans” he replied as he lifted his glass to him. “Now cheers!” he declared. Feng Jie looked at him before he huffed and lifted his glass, clinking it against Bai Yutong’s before they both downed the contents. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Later on that evening, Zhan Yao was sitting at his desk, working on some final touches for his lesson plan when there was a loud knock at his door, making him look up in surprise. “What the hell?” he murmured as he pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the door, unlocking it and pushing it open to find Bai Yutong and Feng Jie standing outside his door, Bai Yutong drunkenly hanging off of Feng Jie, Feng Jie’s arm wrapped around his waist so that he wouldn’t collapse to the ground in a drunken stupor. “Dr. Zhan. I apologize for bothering you so late” Feng Jie apologized. Zhan Yao shook his head. “No, no…it’s um…it’s fine. Please, come in” he insisted, motioning for Feng Jie to come inside. Feng Jie nodded and headed inside, guiding a drunk Bai Yutong over to Zhan Yao’s couch, placing him down while Zhan Yao closed the door behind him before walking over to the couch, grabbing the nearby trashcan that was by his desk. He then placed the trashcan by Bai Yutong’s head, just in case he vomited, and let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head before he looked over at Feng Jie and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about this. Thank you for bringing here” he thanked. Feng Jie nodded. “I thought about taking him home, but I had a feeling it would be better for me to bring him here. I hope that’s not a problem” he stated. Zhan Yao shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine” he assured. Feng Jie smiled before he reached out and gave Zhan Yao’s arm a squeeze, making Zhan Yao look at him in confusion as Feng Jie’s smile softened and turned almost sad. “I know Bai Yutong didn’t say it, but happy birthday, Zhan Yao” he wished. Zhan Yao’s eyes widened before he dipped his head, his eyes glistening slightly. “Thank you” he whispered. Feng Jie smiled and nodded, giving his arm another squeeze before he turned and headed over to the door, opening it before stepping out, closing the door behind him. Zhan Yao stared at the door for a moment before he looked down at Bai Yutong’s now sleeping form and sighed. “Stupid Mouse” he grumbled before he headed to the hall closet and opened it, pulling out a spare throw blanket that he kept in case he had guests. He then walked back over to Bai Yutong and draped the blanket over him, making sure to tuck him in before he walked over to the front door and locked it, letting out a heavy sigh before he looked back at Bai Yutong on the couch and shook his head. “You idiot…why did you drink so much” he grumbled before he turned and headed to his bedroom, pausing to turn off the living room lights. “Good night, Yutong” he murmured into the darkness before he continued to his bedroom. ~*~*~*~*~*~ The next morning, when Bai Yutong awoke from his drunken slumber, he let out a groan and clutched at his head. “Fuck me…why did I drink so much” he grumbled, just as the lights suddenly turned on, causing him to let out another groan and quickly cover his eyes with his arms. “Oh, you’re awake” a voice mused, causing him to pull his arms away to see Zhan Yao looking at him almost disappointedly. “Cat. What are you doing in my apartment?” he asked. Zhan Yao scoffed. “Wrong. You’re in my apartment” he declared. Bai Yutong frowned. “How did I get to your apartment?” he asked as Zhan Yao headed over to his coffee maker and began brewing enough coffee for two cups. “Feng Jie brought you here. He thought about taking you home but thought it would be better if he brought you here” Zhan Yao answered. Bai Yutong hummed as he slowly sat up, letting out a yawn as he stretched before he pushed himself off the couch and walked over to Zhan Yao, who silently held out a cup of coffee to him. Bai Yutong smiled and took a sip of the coffee before he looked at him. “Happy Birthday, Cat” he wished, a small smile on his face. Zhan Yao froze before he turned away from him, making him frown. “Cat? What’s wrong?” he asked. Zhan Yao was quiet before he took a shuddering breath and looked at him. “Bai Yutong…my birthday was yesterday” he whispered. Bai Yutong frowned. “What? No, it wasn’t. I know when your birthday is, it’s today” he declared. Zhan Yao shook his head. “It was yesterday. My birthday was yesterday” he whispered. Bai Yutong frowned before he looked at the calendar that was hanging up on the wall and studied the dates before his eyes widened and he put his coffee mug down with a bang, causing Zhan Yao to flinch before Bai Yutong grabbed his face in his hands, making his eyes widen in shock. “ARE YOU TELLING ME I FUCKING FORGOT YOUR BIRTHDAY?! AND WENT OUT FOR DRINKS WITH FENG JIE INSTEAD?!” he shouted. Zhan Yao blinked before he nodded slowly, causing Bai Yutong to hang his head and let out a loud groan. “Cat, why didn’t you say something?!” he exclaimed. Zhan Yao shook his head. “My birthday’s not that important—” he started when Bai Yutong raised his head, his eyes wide, and gave his face a gentle shake. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that” he growled, Zhan Yao blinking in surprise. “Your birthday is important. It’s important because it’s the day you, my Cat, were born. So yes, it is important. If it’s not important to you, then it is important to me. Okay?” he continued. Zhan Yao blinked in surprise again before tears began to well up in them and Bai Yutong sighed as he carefully pulled Zhan Yao’s head forward so it was resting in the crook of his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sorry, kitten. I’m an idiot” he murmured. Zhan Yao sniffled as he wrapped his arms around him and buried his face deeper into his shoulder. “Yes, you are” he grumbled. Bai Yutong chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of his head before he hummed. “What were your plans for today?” he asked. Zhan Yao blinked before he pulled away, wiping his eyes. “Uh, getting ready for work…I have to teach class today—” he started when Bai Yutong pulled away from him and walked over to his computer, turning it on and typing in the password before he quickly pulled up Zhan Yao’s school email account and typed an email. He then pressed the “send” button before he smiled and turned back to Zhan Yao, who looked at him with wide eyes. “Bai Yutong, what did you do?!” he exclaimed. Bai Yutong grinned. “Cancelled your class” he declared. Zhan Yao’s eyes widened. “WHAT?!” he exclaimed as Bai Yutong walked over to him and gently cupped his face in his hand, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “I fucked up your birthday and now I’m going to make up for it. We’re going to spend the whole day doing whatever you want to do” he declared. Zhan Yao blushed before he frowned and gently tapped Bai Yutong’s forehead. “And what about you? You’re hungover” he reminded. Bai Yutong smiled. “I have a high alcohol tolerance. I don’t get hungover that easily” he replied. Zhan Yao frowned. “Bai Yutong—” he started when Bai Yutong held up a hand. “I won’t drive. Okay? I won’t drive. We’ll take a taxi, go wherever you want to go, have dinner…the whole fucking nine yards” he declared as he looked Zhan Yao in the eyes. “I fucked up, Zhan Yao. Let me make it up to you” he pleaded. Zhan Yao looked at him before he sighed. “Alright, fine” he murmured. Bai Yutong smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead before he stepped back. “I’m going to take a shower. My clothes are still in your closet, right?” he asked. Zhan Yao blinked before he nodded. “Mm” he replied. Bai Yutong grinned. “Great” he declared as he turned and headed to Zhan Yao’s bathroom, Zhan Yao watching him walk away before he chuffed and picked up his coffee cup, about to take a sip of his coffee when Bai Yutong came running back over to him and grasped his face in his hands again, making him look at him in shock. “Bai Yutong, what—” he started when Bai Yutong crashed his lips onto his, causing him to let out a muffled noise of surprise before Bai Yutong pulled away, grinning wolfishly. “Happy Birthday, Cat” he declared. Zhan Yao blinked, stunned, as Bai Yutong turned and headed back to the bathroom, leaving Zhan Yao standing there in shock before he blushed furiously and took a sip of his coffee. ‘Stupid Mouse’ he thought to himself, the blush never leaving his cheeks. As he stood there, drinking his coffee, Zhan Yao thought about Bai Yutong’s offer to make up for yesterday and about what he said about his birthday, and he found that…he couldn’t stay mad at him. Huh. Guess birthdays weren’t so bad after all. Not if he had someone like Bai Yutong to celebrate it with.

#sass writes #s.c.i. 谜案集 #bai yutong #zhan yao #yaoyutong

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kung-fu-headcanons · 3 years ago

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any hc about po with dementia

or if crane finds that po is depressed/suicidal (prane is cool too)

This is yet another ask I stalled on cuz I wanted to write a short skit for the dementia part I hate laziness (but tbh it's probably cuz I'm not a part of this fandom anymore still tho) either way am sorry for the really long wait anon 😣 *cutely ignores the "or" and does both prompts*

Dementia!Po

Typically develops due to old age/failing health, but in this case, it would make a little bit more sense for it to be a result of a bad head injury.

Fights can get rough, especially when you're dealing with a more powerful enemy, so, the enemy was fighting dirty, and did not show any mercy to Po.

The fight that is happening, would resemble the one that happened in s2ep7-8 of legends of awesomeness (if you don't know what I'm talking about, you're gonna have to look it up, I would rather not spoil in case someone who hasn't seen it is reading this)

I guess, because of his chi, he recovers a bit faster than a regular kung fu master, but he's still in bad shape

He's quite confused and disoriented, in which Shifu and the Five dismiss as a result of having engaged in a hard battle, not yet knowing the severity of the situation yet

They do recognize that he hit his head really hard, and take him back, and have a medical professional come over to check on him

As time passes, Po first starts to forget what he's talking about, and often stutters trying to remember what he was saying

Then he starts to forget how to do kung fu, and all the valuable things he has learned as Dragon Warrior

Then he starts to forget everything that's led up to him being in the Jade Palace.. is that the name? He's losing his memories.

The hardest part, is not forgetting about himself (last stage), but forgetting the people around him. His friends and family, he can't place a name to them, and it's like, he knows, but doesn't have the knowledge of them.

The gang tries to help him remember, by reminding him of his signature moves, giving him his favorite foods, even having him let the day off and have him do the things he likes, but it's not working

Even when they remind him of who they are, and what he'd call them if he was, well, himself, Po doesn't know who the people talking to him are.

For example, Monkey would tell him, "Hey.. remember me? Monkey? Your best pal? We'd pull pranks on the others a lot..." and his heart sinks when Po just looks back at him, with confused and dull eyes, he doesn't remember.

This is even worse than if he had died during the fight. At least they don't have to watch him lose somebody they knew so we'll, become someone they don't know at all.

It's frustrating for Po himself too, because, in the early stages, he knew that he recognizes, but he just.. he just cant.

Depressed/Suicidal!Po

Po isn't too good at hiding his feelings, especially if he's really feeling it hard, so it's kind of a stick out to the others something is up with him.

If I ever said anything otherwise about that uhmm no I didn't (I'm glad I'm watching Legends of Awesomeness and eventually paws of destiny because I had seriously forgotten people's character...)

A lot of the signs that Po is showing of depression, Crane notices easily, since he's struggling a little with some mental problems as well

He isn't sure if he wants to confront him about it or not, because he's nervous Po might get mad at him for getting involved in his business, after some thought, he decides, it doesn't hurt to ask...

It's night time, and Crane goes to Po's room to ask what is up with him.

Po gives him a look, and he's like, ".......what are you talking about?" He's not unhappy that Crane asked, he's scared that somebody knows about it, like, uhm, what, he'd been hiding it quite well but it got through?

Crane freaks, dang it, should have known this would happen, he rapidly starts to apologize he's like "aaah I'm sorry I'll leave, I didn't mean to bother you, I won't tell anybody I promise I wont-"

Po sighs, shakes his head, he can trust Crane.. he lets him in his room, and takes a deep breath, and says to him, "Okay, I'll tell you, but promise you won't tell Shifu or the others...?" And Crane promises, he will keep it a secret.

So Po tells Crane how he's been feeling lately, and some of the stuff he says, hits Crane directly in the heart, because he knows exactly how he feels. This is not about him, however, this is about Po.

Crane tries his best to comfort Po, and give him advice, worried that he might have accidentally said something that would make Po feel even worse

Well, Po is just happy to have somebody listen to him, and he's glad that Crane is here to talk to him about it, and didn't ridicule him about it (which is why he was scared at first, he thought he would get made fun of)

He thanks Crane for his time, Crane lets him know, he's not alone in this, there's always someone to help.

If Po is feeling suicidal, he probably had cut himself a little, and it'll take more than some talk for Crane to help Po feel better, and some extra steps to let him know, he's not alone, and people care.

I don't ship Prane (tbh I'm not really that huge of a shipper anymore, ships are cool and all but I prefer individual character content) but for the people that do here's some stuff for you guys

Crane immediately notices something is wrong, and wants to talk to him, worried.

Po's thoughts mainly include, what if Crane doesn't actually love me, and he only dates me cuz he feels sorry for me, he's feeling rather insecure as well as depressed and suicidal.

He thinks that he's being a waste of Crane's time, he should go date somebody else that's actually worth it.

Crane emphasizes the fact, he loves him, and him only, pulls him into an embrace, maybe a kiss as well, he has nothing to worry about.

He loves him for the way he is, and there's nothing he needs to change about himself.

#kung fu panda #kung fu panda headcanons #kung fu panda hcs #kung fu panda hdcs #kung fu panda po #kung fu panda crane #kung fu panda po x crane #kung fu panda crane x po #kung fu panda prane #kfp #kfp headcanons #kfp hcs #kfp hdcs #kfp po #kfp crane #kfp po x crane #kfp crane x po #kfp prane

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wing-ed-thing · 4 years ago

Text

Cabaret (Might Guy x Reader, Chapter V)

Synopsis: You can't stand Might Guy. Honestly, how could anyone be so boisterously unaware and sickeningly positive? Your heart sinks as the both of you are teamed up to infiltrate and collect information from the Hidden Sound's gritty nightlife. Maybe losing yourselves in the dark of the underground will help you both come to an understanding.

Word count: 2,659

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIIIChapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI

Warnings: Drinking, minor sexual harassment (a guy puts a hand on your leg)

Sundown approached quickly, but you made it to your destination before it became dark. Your heels once again sunk into the fabric of the velvet carpet of “HEAVEN”. Mama-san did not stand at the front podium today. Instead, in front of it sat the blonde bartender from the previous day. When she saw you, her visible excitement showed immediately as she bounded towards you.

“You must be Takeuchi-san!” she cried, her high pigtails bouncing behind her. “It is so nice to meet you! You are so pretty!” She grabbed your gloved hands. You could practically see sparkles in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Your eyebrows knit together as you crouched sheepishly, “And you are?” The blonde stumbled back with a gasp that made you jump. You looked about wildly as to find the source of such an extreme reaction, only finding yourself.

“I didn’t introduce myself!” She slapped herself across the cheek. Your eyes widened as wide as your jaw dropped. You probably could have heard the smack from across the room. How do you respond to that? She shook herself out of it before you could figure it out. She bowed deeply, “I am Chiasa Fuse! It is very nice to meet you!”

“Um… hello, Fus-”

“Please call me Chi-chan! Oh, I should have just told you that from the beginning… That’s what everyone else calls me!” She looked down, playing with the hem of her white, floral gown. Tears appeared in her waterline. You took a breath, you could definitely not get touched by this one.

“So… I’m guessing Daisuke-san arranged for you to show me the ropes?” Chiasa snapped up, tears near gone at this point as she exclaimed,

“Yes! Of course!” She took your hands again, leading you off and you silently thanked Kami for your thick gloves.

Only staff populated the main lounge between custodial workers who disinfected tables to the hostesses who were waiting for opening. Daisuke sat at the bar where you found Guy. Guy’s appearance did not differ much from the previous night. The black button up had been traded in for a white one and a bowtie sat between his collarbones. You pursed your lips. Your eyes meeting Guy’s, you gave him a playful look of approval. He winked in subtle response.

“Ah! Takeuchi-san!” Daisuke roared. He held up his drink. “This man makes the best daiquiri I’ve ever tasted! Why didn’t you tell me that I’d be in for the experience of a lifetime?!” He cackled, turning back to Guy who gave a humble chuckle. You returned the expression.

“Unfortunately, I did not know Aoki-san before coming here.” You told him politely. “Believe me, if I knew I would have told you!”

“Oooh, yes I heard you journeyed from the Leaf! I hear that place is full of savage ninja.” Chiasa gossiped.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in action next, my dear,” Daisuke told you. He hesitated. “You do know we have a room for the girls to prepare in, correct? You don’t have to make the trip here all dolled up.” Chiasa yelped again.

“I was just taking her there, Daisuke-san!”

“Wonderful, you are in exceptional hands then!” Chiasa tugged you towards the same entrance to the right of the bar.

“Always a pleasure, Daisuke-san.” You made one last smile at the two men before you were tugged down the hall.

Chiasa opened the first door. You glanced to your left at Daisuke’s office door at the end of the hall before you were pulled into the room. The walls were lined with vanities and they sat back to back in a row down the middle. There were only about 6 girls in the otherwise empty room.

“Hey ladies! We got someone new working with us!” Chiasa announced to the room. “This is Takeuchi Yume!” You couldn’t get a word in as Chiasa then dragged you over to a stool in front of a vanity against the right hand wall. The other girls hardly batted an eye. She sat down at the one next to it, looking at you expectantly with her hands under her chin. You slowly lowered yourself onto to sit.

“This is mine?” You asked.

“Yep! And it’s right next to mine!” Joy. You took in your new space. The table held three drawers: one on the top left, a long one in the middle, and one on the top right. A tri fold mirror sat in front of you, a ring light clipped onto the top and hanging down. The top had been cleaned off, but dust remained in the crevices where the mirror met the table. “You can store all your cosmetics here and I cleared you a space in the closet.” Chiasa motioned to the back of the room. “We share dresses here a lot, but if you don’t want anyone to touch something of yours, you can just put your name on it. You should bring your things in tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Chi-chan, I really appreciate it.” She reached out to give your hair a puff.

“It looks like you don’t need any of my help when it comes to the aesthetics! I can tell you��re that classy type… though I’ll tell you, you shouldn’t be afraid of going overboard a little, especially if you want to get into the back lounge.”

“Ugh, you gotta be lucky and damn popular to get into there. Don’t even try.” An exasperated sigh came from your right. You turned, watching the hostess wrestle with a large hairpiece. The brunette piece sat in a beehive on her head. Her hands tussled with the clips.

“What’s in the back lounge?” You wondered. The new hostess smoothed out her hair in the mirror before turning to you.

“It’s where the men talk their business of course.” The woman told you. She extended a hand, “Yuzuki, the girls call me Yu-Yu.” You took her hand graciously.

“They always order a lot of drinks. It’s one of the big reasons everyone wants back there. The commission is huge!” Chiasa explained, her lips scrunched. “There’s always so many of them!”

“And who doesn’t like a bit of gossip?” Yuzuki’s voice rang silkily in your ears. “Of course, you have to be invited and pray you won’t end up at the bottom of Lightning Bay.” You eyed her curiously.

“Why’s that?” You questioned. Yuzuki blinked at you, eyes widened in surprise. She gave out a small laugh. Reaching into one of her drawers, she took out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. Plucking one out, she lit it, taking a drag.

“Honey,” Amusement carried in her voice. She locked eyes with you. “This is the Hidden Sound. If Orochimaru’s boys want you, they’re going to take you and sure as hell won’t hesitate to kill you either, dear.”

“But you won’t have to deal with them, Takeuchi-san!” Chiasa reminded you quickly, leaning forward to hiss at Yuzuki. “You’re scaring her!”

“No,” You denied, turning back to Yuzuki, “I want to hear more about the back lounge.” Yuzuki took another long drag of her cigarette, blowing it out the side of her mouth. The door to the dressing room swung open.

“It’s almost time!” Another hostess announced into the room. “Thirty more minutes to opening!” She shut the door.

“Another time,” She sighed. Yuzuki hiked up her gown, maneuvering around her stool. “My regulars are an unsavory group of men, but they pay my rent. I want to get in a few drinks to prepare.”

“You drink on the job?” She huffed, taking one last puff.

“We’re drinking all night, dear. That’s what brings in the cash. I swear, it’s the only way to do this job.” Yuzuki put out her snout out in the ashtray on her vanity and quickly disappeared through the door.

“Oh, Takeuchi-san!” You turned towards Chiasa, who once again, gripped your hands tightly.

“Please, you can call me Yume, Chi-chan.” Chiasa’s eyes sparkled.

“Yume-san-”

“No need to be so formal, really, Chi-chan.” She took a trembling breath.

“Yume, I’m so happy to work with you! You’ll be rotating tables with me tonight.” Chiasa looked down at your gloves. “You’re going to take these off, right?” You hesitated.

“Yes, of course.” You slowly slipped them off your hands, placing them on the vanity. Chiasa stood abruptly.

“Alright! Let’s go!” She showed you out the door. “So you’re new here, so pretty much the goal for tonight is to get you out there! We get bonuses for bringing in regulars, so we’ll be rotating tables. A lot of groups get pretty rowdy so you’ll always have a few of us gals by your side! Now, the customers aren’t supposed to get too handsy… ” Chiasa’s voice faded in your ears as you caught sight of the bar. “Think of it all like a game! That’s how I think of it, like pretend!...”

The entire cast of hostesses must have been gathered around the bar and Guy was the center of their attention. A single cup sat on the counter as Guy juggled four liquor bottles. The containers bounced off his wrists and elbows. One landed on his forehead, two balanced on his left bicep, and the last he caught in a reverse grip, pouring the last of the drink. The women clapped as he pushed the drink to the woman at the center.

“Wow,” Chiasa exhaled. You realized that you stopped to watch and somewhere along the way, Chiasa had ceased talking. “Genki-san is amazing.”

“Okay, girls. You can all ogle at closing.” Mama-san walked briskly into the lounge, waving her arms. Her sleeves waved like butterfly wings as she motioned.

“Mama-san!” Guy greeted jovially. “Might I interest you in a drink?” The older woman adjusted herself.

“No thank you, Genki. While the offer is much appreciated, you are distracting my girls.” She told him sternly.

“Apologies ma’am, I’ll try not to let it happen again.” That answer seemed to satisfy Mama-san. She strutted down the hall to Daisuke’s office.

Not too long after opening, you had your first table. You and Chiasa sat down at a booth of Sound Ninja. You looked at the table, noticing a large laminated sheet. On it showed the faces of the groups of hostesses working with small descriptions by their faces. Just as demeaning as you imagined…

“Hiya boys!” Chiasa winked. “What are we drinking tonight?” She leaned seductively over the table and the ninja gave a rowdy cheer. She made it look effortless, wrapping each one around her finger one by one. Chiasa turned to you, pulling you close to her. “Yume-chan, let’s get a round of champagne for these gentlemen!” She went around, plopping herself in the middle of two.

You sighed in relief as you went off to grab the champagne. Something about locking eyes with Guy at the bar sent a wave of relief through your system. As the only familiar person in a hundred foot radius, it shouldn’t have surprised you. You relayed the order and in no time he had a tray prepared. Guy’s eyes met yours. With a small smile, he gave a slight nod of his head in encouragement. It settled your nerves, but not by much as you walked back to the booth. Setting the tray on the table, you plucked up one flute.

Following Chiasa’s lead, you sat between the two other men. She had the group laughing as the compliments kept rolling from her tongue.

“Evening… gentlemen.” You greeted stiffly. Chiasa remained in your peripheral and you attempted your best mimicry. “I’d imagine two… strapping young ninja such as yourselves would… um… want to be doing something much more dangerous…” You cringed inwardly. The ninja on your left chuckled.

“We’re here to blow off steam, sweetheart, not talk about work.” A hand made its way to your thigh, resting on the fabric of your dress. You looked down, the hand and your drink in your focus. You gulped and unlike last night, angry heat did not rise up your spine. Instead, inklings of fear spread throughout your system as you suddenly felt helplessness set in. You gripped your drink tightly, choosing to force a giggle as you quickly downed your beverage.

“Whoa there!” The ninja to your right exclaimed, an arm coming to sling over your shoulder. He flicked his sloppy black bangs to the side. “He said ‘blow off some steam’ not ‘black out’! You know you’re supposed to sip changaene, right?” Those words sounded familiar. You set the empty glass on the tray. You took in the man’s words and choppy black hair. You thought about Guy’s mini student. If he was older, he might end up looking like the ninja sitting next to you.

You were already feeling warmth from the burn on the back of your throat. Your lips puckered for a moment at the sourness. The heat gathered in your chest. You reached up, caressing his high cheekbones. You thought about Guy’s cheekbones, how easy talking to him was last night.

“Well, this is a party, isn’t it?” Your hand came to envelop the one on your thigh. With subtlety, you worked it down your leg. “What do we say? Are we ready for something stronger?” The table whooped in excitement and you made a swanky show of getting up to get the drinks.

You traveled to the bar once more, twice, three times. The more you drank, the looser you got. The more you drank, the more the ninja to your right looked like Might Guy. You sat happily between the two ninja, telling anecdotes. You weren’t sure if you were actually funny or if it was just the alcohol, but the anxiety slowly began to dissipate.

“You really pretended to be the daimyō’s daughter?” The ninja to the left of Chiasa questioned, nearly in tears.

“No one noticed for the whole day.” You held your hands up dramatically. The whole booth was in hysterics. You felt the rumble of the two men next to you. You looked up at the clock. Their time was up.

“Oh no!” Chiasa gasped. “It looks like we’ve run out of time!” She pouted. “Would you like a time extension?” The ninja began to shift in their seats and stood.

“No, thank you darling. We’ll be back soon to visit, don’t worry, beautiful.” One of the ninja slipped a few ryō into Chiasa’s dress. The whole lot of them paid the tab and left.

You and Chiasa cleared the table, taking to the trays to the small kitchen across from the dressing room and behind the bar. You got your second, third and fourth tables shortly after and the more tables, the drunker you became. The words slipped out of your mouth with ease: the flattery, the flirting.

You were at your fifth table when you saw it. In your peripheral came a small group of men walking into the door to the left of the bar. The back room, you assumed. A woman trailed behind them. The woman sat at the bar and stayed there until closing.

You watched as one by one, they disappeared through the entrance. You found yourself staring and a mask staring back at you. Silver tuffs peaked out behind it. The masked figure slowly brought up an arm. The holes in his mask were black, neverending. You suddenly felt more sober. His fingers folded, he pointed directly at you. When you blinked, he was gone. You took a drink.

You rid your mind of the masked mystery man. When you left, you saw the woman waiting outside. She didn’t acknowledge you. The men in the back room remained after closing, but you were urged by Chiasa to leave. Guy stayed behind to serve drinks so you walked home alone.

You made it back to your lodgings with no issue, but out of the corner of your eye, you thought that you saw silver.

#might guy #might guy x reader #might guy relationship #Maito Gai #maito gai x reader #maito guy #Maito guy relationship #x you #x reader #reader insert #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto imagine

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kiseki-no-scenarios · 5 years ago

Note

can i get gom pre and post game rituals / routines with s/o? ^^

This is a cute request! Thanks anon, hope you enjoy :) I threw in Kuroko and Kagami as a bonus because this took so long!

GOM + Kuroko and Kagami - Pre and post game rituals with S/O!Reader

Akashi

Pre-game:

Akashi always makes sure that the two of you have a few private moments together, where he’s holding your hands and pressing his forehead against yours

The two of you are quiet, simply basking in the moment, Akashi’s breathing and yours mingling together

It’s a moment of calm before the rush of the game, and you squeeze Akashi’s hands as a sign of encouragement

Akashi’s crimson eyes look at yours as he cups your cheeks, pressing a kiss to your lips gently

He hands you his Rakuzan jacket for safekeeping, and asks you to always wear it so that everyone knows who you belong to

“A kiss for good luck.” Akashi smiles, his soft gazed directed towards you and only you. “Don’t take your eyes off me, my Empress.”

Post-game:

Akashi always made sure that you were allowed to watch the team from courtside, and when the game ended, you stood up with a towel and water for Akashi

Akashi would approach you and take the items from your hand, and if he was in an especially good mood he’d hold up the towel around the two of you, hiding the both of you from view as he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips

He’d ignore all the jeering and teasing from the rest of his team members

After sharing that intimate kiss with you, he’d set the towel down and grab your hand, bringing the back of your hand up to his lips before pressing a gentle kiss on the back

“My victory, as always, is for you.” Akashi murmured, loving the blush that bloomed across your cheeks.

Midorima

Pre-game:

You’d always be the one that helped him apply the tape to his fingers, undoing the current bandages before applying the new ones

Along the way, you’d kiss each of his fingers on his left hand, ignoring the blush that was blooming across Midorima’s cheeks

He’d never admit it, but he truly enjoyed what you did and it made him feel like you were with him as your fingers carefully wrapped the tape around his digits

You always squeeze his left hand once you’re done, and cheekily ask him to make sure to make lots of baskets for you

If he had a rather large lucky item, he’d give it to you for safe keeping

“I suppose this means I can’t miss any shots.” Midorima states, pushing up his glasses with his left hand. “Make sure you’re watching, nanodayo.”

Post-game:

“That’s my boyfriend!! He made all of those awesome three-pointers!!”

You were always super proud to see all the cool shots that Midorima made, so you’d always brag to anyone that was around you

Midorima’s teammates were used to this and thought it was cute, the way that Midorima blushed furiously

He was embarrassed but secretly liked how excited you were, so he’d always make sure that on the last three pointer he made during the game, he’d look for you and make eye contact

“That last one was for you…” Midorima murmured, voice barely loud enough for you to hear. No matter how much you asked him to say it again, the tsundere carrot would absolutely refuse.

Aomine

Pre-game:

You let him motorboat your chest for good luck

Definitely wants to hear what you’ll give him if he wins, so it’s common that you’ll have to come up with some sort of reward for him

It’ll probably be something along the lines of a new pair of lingerie that you say you’ll model for him, or if you’ll make him something tasty for dinner

Acts like a big baby sometimes with how you have to almost bribe him at times

But, you know that he’s going to play his best no matter what, he’s never going to allow himself to lose

“You better be ready with bells on after this game, _____.” Aomine smirked, pulling you in close and kissing you passionately. “This game won’t tire me out a bit.”

Post-game:

As soon as the game was over, Aomine swaggers on over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving you a deep kiss without caring who was looking

He waves off any requests for interviews, saying that he’s already got plans and may literally throw you over his shoulders sometimes

Bonus: one time you decided to switch into one of his spare jerseys and wait for him after the game ended, and he loved that so much that he demands you do that every single time from now on

“Sorry, I’ve got plans after this.” Aomine smirks, hefting you over his shoulder as you yelp. “Don’t try to call me tonight.”

Kise

Pre-game:

Kise is definitely the one that does a selfie before every single game

So the two of you will always take some sort of fun selfie together before the game starts

Kise will be very insistent that you make sure to watch him the entire time, and that having his _____-cchi watching him is so important

Imagine Bokuto emo mode if Kise can’t find you in the crowd or something so you tell him exactly where you’ll be, and show him the poster that you’ve prepared for him

“Ne, _____-cchi I’m going to do all sorts of cool things!!” Kise’s eyes are bright as he speaks excitedly. “So be sure to keep your eyes on me!”

Post-game:

Post-game selfie! You’ll have your phone out and ready, Kise will sling his arm around your shoulder and at the last minute kiss your cheek/lip/etc. when the picture is taken

Will immediately post the picture no matter what

Definitely will ask you what the coolest thing he did was, and ask if you saw him do this or that

“I was so cool, right _____-cchi??”

Murasakibara

Pre-game:

I love the idea of you brushing Murasakibara’s hair and putting it up in his ponytail before the game

After you’ve tied his hair up, he wants to lay his head in your lap until the game begins

You always then go through what you’ve got planned for dinner after the game, which includes his favorite sweets and foods

“Mm, I can’t wait to eat _____-chin’s sweets.” Murasakibara says, tugging on your shirt. “Ne, _____-chin, I want extra chocolate too.”

Post-game:

Definitely make sure to have snacks on the ready once the game is over, and you know exactly what the order is

First thing is Murasakibara’s favorite maiubo, followed by a chocolate bar, and finished with a packet of chips

Not that this is enough by any means, but it’ll tide him over (somewhat) until the two of you can go home where his favorite dinner is waiting

“All of this is tasty, but…” Murasakibara rests his chin on your head as he wraps his arms around your waist. “_____-chi sounds tasty, too…”

Kuroko

Pre-game:

You had gifted Kuroko a new wrist sweatband that you had embroidered with both yours and his’s initials, so you always were the one that placed it on his wrist before the start of the game

You, Kuroko, and Nigou always had a little private moment before the game starts (you sneak Nigou in like how Alex had in the game against Yosen)

Kuroko’s rare smiles are only reserved for the two of you, and he promises to play his best as always

“Thank you for always supporting me, _____.”

Post-game:

The news reporters and other people in the court usually don’t notice Kuroko and flock to the rest of the players, but you always and without fail run up to your boyfriend with Nigou as he steps off the court

You throw a towel over his shoulder and Nigou barks (softly) while you congratulate him on the job he’s done

Just like how you were the one to put the wrist sweatband on, you were again the one that always took it off and put it in your bag for safekeeping

Kuroko doesn’t care about getting interviewed, he’s more than happy to take your hand and go on your regular stop to Maja-Burger for a vanilla milkshake

“Let’s go get a vanilla milkshake, _____.” Kuroko said, lacing his fingers in with yours. “It’s getting too crowded here.”

Kagami

Pre-game:

It was normal for you to give Kagami a semi-lecture and remind him not to get too hot-headed or excited so he doesn’t foul himself out

Kagami appreciates that you worry about him so he is a good listener

Before he leaves to go on the court, the two of you hold up the couple rings that were on a chain around your necks, and you tell Kagami that you’re always rooting for him, no matter what

“There’s no way I’m going to lose today!” Kagami says, holding up his chain with a bright smile. “Not when I have you with me, _____.”

Post-game:

He opens his arms wide since you always throw yourself into his arms, getting a big hug from him

He hugs you tight and the two of you enjoy the moment before you teasingly pull back, complaining about how sweaty he is

Kagami ruffles your hair and you complain about it, but you know he’s just really excited to have won the game

And as always, he makes sure to cook a delicious dinner for the two of you that night at his apartment

“Hell yeah, I’m cooking steak tonight!” Kagami cheers. “_____, let’s go all out!”

---

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duhragonball · 4 years ago

Note

Chi-Chi

I think I’m gonna wrap these up today so I can get back to work on my fanfic. For the record, I got Buu, Frieza, Jolyne Kujo, Father Pucci, and Jobin Higashikata left to go, and then I’m done.

But I hate to call it here, because this has been fun. Maybe I’ll bring this back some time.

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: I started watching DBZ back in the fall of 1998, and I didn’t get very serious about it until 2000. Chi-Chi didn’t have a very big role in the Saiyans or Frieza arcs, and I wasn’t making a point of watching every episode, so it took a while for her character to be fully revealed. Starting out, she was basically popping in every so often to remind us that she wanted Gohan to study. She stood up to Garlic’s henchmen in Movie 1, but didn’t really get a chance to do anything. In the Garlic Junior Saga, it’s stated that Chi-Chi is the strongest woman in the world, which sounds pretty impressive as long as you don’t think too hard about how many women are on the show.

I don’t think I really understood Chi-Chi well until I got to the part where Goten spars with Gohan, and he reveals that Chi-Chi had been training him while Gohan was studying. That was where it became clear to me that she only emphasized book-learnin’ over ass-whoopin’ because she knew Goku had that side of things covered. With Goten, Chi-Chi had to be both mother and father to him, and she didn’t shirk from that.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that Chi-Chi’s a great supporting character. She maintains a presence in the story whether she’s on-screen or not, and you learn about her gradually through these short appearances. And when she does show up, it’s just a treat to see. She’s always got something to say, and she’s cute and she can beat your ass. What’s not to like?

Why I don’t: Yeah right. Look, the biggest gripe people have with Chi-Chi is that she makes her son do homework, which is dumb. She explains this a number of times: There’s more to life than fighting, and she wants that for her son. And Gohan’s not exactly worse off for her style of parenting.

I think the disconnect here is that people watch this show and they want to see Goku and Gohan screw around and go on adventures, and they feel like Chi-Chi is here to kill their buzz. I guess it’d be like watching a football game, and every so often some guy wanders out onto the field and scolds everyone for playing football. But that guy would be right, because football is dangerous, yo. Everybody keeps telling Chi-Chi that the only hope for the world involves her little boy getting his ass kicked by aliens, and she’s like “no, that’s bullshit,” and she’s absolutely right. She’s a saint for tolerating it as much as she does, but I think a lot of fans refuse to look at it from her point of view. They just want the fighting.

I remember Lanipator observing that he used to hate Mr. Satan when he was younger, but the older he got, the more and more he appreciated the character. I can’t relate to that, because I was old enough to drink when I started watching this show, so for me, there is no “when I was a kid” perspective on Dragon Ball. I thought Mr. Satan was awesome from the start, and I never had much of a problem with Chi-Chi either.

They did tend to overexpose both characters in the anime, cutting to them when they needed a filler moment to pad out an episode or five. So maybe that’s got something to do with it. But that’s not the fault of the characters. But yeah, if I was watching the Cell Games at age 10 I’d probably get really sick of them constantly cutting to Mr. Satan or Chi-Chi for analysis.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): It’s probably hard to top the one where she fought Goku. That was one of the last Chi-Chi moments I got to see, because I didn’t get caught up on OG Dragon Ball until 2004. It’s an excellent use of the character and her lengthy absence from the show. By the time she reappears, no one recognizes her, and she’s upset about being forgotten.

Favorite season/movie: I think I’d have to go with the Buu Saga, on the grounds that she got more time to shine, mainly due to so many other characters being unavailable. It was a real roller coaster ride for her too. Her husband’s dead and she’s raising two kids on her own, then he comes back, then he leaves again, and maybe Gohan’s dead too, and now Goten has to fight, and then she’s dead, and then they’re all back together in the end. Wild.

Favorite line: In the Cell Games Saga, there’s a TV show where Mr. Satan drags three buses onto the set, cuts a scathing promo on Cell, and then punches one of the buses to put an exclamation point on the whole thing. Wait, I take it back, I’m pretty sure 10yo me would have loved Mr. Satan.

Anyway the live audience is marking the fuck out for Mr. Satan, but at Kame House Yamcha and Krillin are unimpressed, because they punch holes in like fifty buses every morning as a warm-up. But in the dub of that episode, Roshi remarks that Mr. Satan’s theatrics are “sad”, and Chi-Chi goes “It sure is. Somebody could have used that bus.” Classic, total classic.

Favorite outfit: It’s hard to pick, honestly. I like the Buu Saga yellow, but I prefer the way her hair looked in the Saiyans Saga. And that outfit she wore near the end of DBZ was pretty great too.

OTP: Goku. come on.

Brotp: I think Bulma sort of stepped into that role after Trunks was born, but Chi-Chi seems like a loner to me. She basically rolled in, got Goku to marry her, and then retreated deep into the mountains to interact with as few people as possible. I need me a freak like that.

Head Canon: I think she’s genuinely proud of Goku and the boys being so great at super-karate-laser wars. She doesn’t talk about it much, because there’s plenty of other people to congratulate them on that sort of thing, and I think they sort of look to her for as someone who grounds their family.

To put it another way, I don’t think Goku wants Chi-Chi to talk a lot about the androids or the Saiyans or whatever. I think he wants someone to bother him with household matters and chores and ordinary stuff. And Gohan and Goten just want a regular mom to balance out their alien monomyth dad. And she plays that role well, because that’s who she is. But she’s still proud of them for saving the world and so forth.

Unpopular opinion: Chi-Chi was right.

Look, how was Gohan going to make a life for himself as a fighter, in a world where Goku and Vegeta have that market cornered?

Where’s he live? In a big-ass mansion. Why? Because he married a rich man’s daughter. Where’d he meet her? In the school Chi-Chi made him go to. How’d he get in to said school? He aced their entrance exams. How’d he do that? Chi-Chi made him study.

What does Goku do all day when he isn’t training? He drives a tractor? Why? Because his wife has a thing for farmer aesthetics. Why does he just do whatever his wife tells him? Because he didn’t study.

A wish: I wish all the Chi-Chi haters would stay out of my soup, because it’s salty enough as it is. (Heyoooo!)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I’ve been seeing Manalorian spoilers lately, and I don’t want to give anything away, but it seems like every time something happens on Mando, all the chuds come out of the woodwork to complain about Episode VIII and/or IX. They’re like “thank you, Disney, for giving us the [Star Wars thing] that Disney refused to give us.”

My fear is that Star Wars has become balkanized into this thing where people praise half of it as fixing or undoing the damage caused by the other half. Used to be, people would either like the Ewoks or hate them, but they couldn’t ignore the fact that they were there. Now it’s like any movie that doesn’t feature Ewoks is done to cater to the anti-Ewok crowd, and any movie that does is solely for the purpose of keeping the pro-Ewok side engaged.

My point is that I worry that this will happen to all media franchises, and Dragon Ball Q will feature a Chi-Chi that gets turned into a hateful she-hag to satisfy the haters, and then Ultra Dragon Ball Deluxe will feature a more nuanced version of Chi-Chi as a make-good, thereby pissing off the haters. And they’ll go back and forth trying to please everyone while the character ends up becoming an incomprehensible mess from it.

5 words to best describe them: Adorable tiger mom/bus advocate.

My nickname for them: Cheech.

#ask duhragonball #dragon ball #chi chi #Anonymous

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dbzebra · 4 years ago

Text

A Son Family Christmas

A/N: Ok so this was originally a secret santa present from years ago, that I recently rediscovered and made some new additions and cleaned up some things. As usual this takes place in the End of Z era, this time 9 years after Majin Buu. And lots of cute family+ship fluff. might need to go to the dentist afterwards lmao

Words: 3721 (i got carried away lol)

Pairings: little bits of Gochi, HanVi, MarTen and K18.

Mostly a Pan focused fic though!

enjoy :)

Christmas Eve; Age 783.

A blizzard howled and whistled from outside, covering the grassy mountain in a sparkling sheet of white snow.

Mt. Paozu was pitch-dark, except for the lights that came from a small cottage deep in the woods.

This was the home of Earth’s greatest hero.

The Son family decided to throw a Christmas party for themselves at their little mountain cottage. Goku invited Krillin and his family as well. The former monk was already pretty much family to Goku anyway, only more so when Goku and Krillin’s kids started dating each other the previous year.

It was the day everyone was looking forward to, but nobody was more excited than Son Pan.

Pan was three years old now, and could finally understand the concept of the holiday, as well as the magic and excitement behind waking up the next morning to find presents underneath the Christmas tree.

The toddler stared around at her grandparents’ fully decorated house in wide-eyed wonder. Garland wrapped around the railings and banisters; little models of Santa and reindeer on the countertops, a wreath on their front door, and so much more. Chi-Chi always loved going all out, it was her favorite holiday.

But what really had young Pan’s attention was the big, beautiful Christmas tree sitting in the foyer, filling the house with the strong but familiar scent of the forest. It dwarfed little Pan by several feet, but she wasn’t scared. She loved it. Lush green branches were adorned with ornaments of all shapes and colors. Rainbow lights twinkled in mesmerizing fashion. High above her head, at the very top of the tree, sat a big, shining golden star -- a decoration she got to add herself.

Every year, the Son family had a tradition to go out on Mt. Paozu and cut down the perfect tree. Goku knew the best spots. He always did -- even as far back as before Gohan was born. But nowadays they had to find two trees. One for Goku and Chi-Chi’s house, and the other for Gohan and Videl’s next door.

Pan sighed. She just wanted it to be bedtime so it could be tomorrow! She wanted presents! Every minute felt like an hour to her. The little girl tiptoed around, looking for any hidden presents but found no luck. She frowned. How was she even sure Santa would really come?! She had to keep her mind off that tree and the eventual presents somehow or she’d go crazy!

The three-year-old trotted into the kitchen to see what everyone else was up to.

The adults were all hard at work preparing the feast. Chi-Chi, Videl, 18, and Gohan busied back and forth to create the feast. Krillin and Goku did what they could, but usually ended up making things worse so they were ordered to stay put at the dining room table. If Goku was out in the wilderness, he could cook meat or fish just fine. But using a stove and all those utensils just wasn’t his thing.

Goku spotted his granddaughter looking around and called her over. “Pssst… Panny…”

The toddler tilted her head curiously to the side and went over to him, smiling as wide as could be. “Hi, Grandpa!”

Goku flashed one of his signature grins in response. He then put a finger to his mouth, still smiling, signaling the little one to be quiet. Pan covered her mouth to stop from giggling. Secrets were fun!

Pan blinked as Goku momentarily glanced to his wife to see if she was watching. Luckily, she was too preoccupied. When the coast was clear, he reached into his pockets.

“I got somethin’ for ya.”

Pan’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “What?”

“Don’t tell Grandma, okay? It’s a secret…” Goku grinned mischievously as he pulled out a small bag of cookies. He had stolen a few when Chi-Chi wasn’t looking; the wait for the food combined with how good everything smelled was too much for him. Krillin just shook his head with a smile.

She happily took them from her grandpa and stuffed them all in her mouth in one bite. With her full cheeks puffed out, she grinned back at her grandpa and Goku returned it.

The toddler hugged Goku and smiled before trotting over the counter where Chi-Chi was cutting food and occasionally stirring something in a pot. Pan tugged on her dress lightly, peering up at her. “Grandma?”

“Yes sweetie?” Chi-Chi cooed, stopping what she was doing to face her darling granddaughter.

“Can I helps you?”

Gohan ruffled his daughter’s hair as he helped make a dish. “Pan, don’t bother Grandma when she’s cooking; we’re all working really hard on this meal for everyone. Why don’t you see what Marron and Uncle Goten are doing?” He felt bad, and spoke calmly to not upset his young daughter, but he knew more than anyone that Goten was better equipped to preoccupy her right now.

Pan pouted. “Fine.”

“Oh hush, Gohan. Everything’s on schedule,” Chi-ChI replied, making her granddaughter smile again. “And of course you can help, Panny. You can help stir for me!”

Pan floated up and gently stirred the hotpot, happily singing ‘la la la’ like she had heard her grandmother do in the past. “How long does this take? All the food is in this big bucket?” As it turned out, this wasn’t nearly as fun as she thought.

“Should be all done in about thirty minutes.” Chi-Chi said, gently patting her head.

Pan’s mouth went into a small ‘o’ shape, trying to count how long that was on her fingers. It took her a bit to get to thirty “That takes too long. This is boring!” Pan replied.

Goku and Krillin tried not to laugh as she floated back down to the wooden floor. Their wives shot them a quick look and they both turned away, innocently whistling like they didn’t make a sound. Two peas in a pod, those two. 18 and Chi-Chi just giggled to themselves.

Pan shrugged her shoulders, scurrying back to the living room to see if she could find her uncle. Goten always had the best video games to play!

“Uncle Goten!! Where are ya!!?” Pan called out to him.

No answer. Pan frowned. “Is he hidin’ from me?” She noticed the television was still on, and his phone sat on the couch. But no Uncle Goten. But then, she caught something out of the corner of her eye from the other side of the Christmas tree.

Pan tiptoed around the tree, when she finally saw them right in the middle of a soft, tender kiss. Above their heads was a small mistletoe, hanging over the archway. In that moment nothing else mattered to them except each other.

Until...

CLICK

“Great shot, man.”

The sound of a camera shuttering followed by the voice of Krillin broke the two teens out of their tender embrace. Goten’s jaw dropped, and then he just facepalmed with both hands. Marron followed his line of sight to see his father standing there, camera in hand. She should’ve expected this...

“Dad!! W-What are you doing?!” Marron practically shrieked. The blonde’s whole face went red from ear to ear, shoulders shaking. Steam was practically coming off her face. It was embarrassing enough her parents were so lovey-dovey on a regular basis, but now she got caught in the middle of her most awaited special moment with her Goten of the holiday season!

“What does it look like? I’m capturing a special Christmas moment of my daughter!”

CLICK

Krillin got another picture at their flustered reactions. “But that one was just for fun.”

“Your mother will get a kick out of this!” Goku added, sporting a wide grin similar to his oldest friend.

“Grandpa! What’s that leaf over Uncle Goten’s head? Why were him and Aunt Marron playing kissy-face?” Pan asked eagerly. It looked like something she’d find on the ground before the snow came. She didn’t get why it was so special.

“It’s called a mistletoe, Pan. When two people get caught under it, they have to do that.”

“Misty Toe? That’s a dumb name!!” Pan broke into giggles again. “Uncle Goten is under a big toe!”

Eighteen came out to the living room, ignoring the two former Turtle School fighters who were still carrying on about their kids. Marron and Goten didn’t find it so funny!

“Marron, could you help me in here for a moment?”

“Sure!” Marron said, finally shaking off her flustered state and went to the kitchen. Any way to be away from this scenario.

Shrugging, Goten turned on the PlayStation to kill some time. The familiar start up sound soothed his ears and he sat down to play. He let Pan play on his phone in the meantime.

“Hey Uncle Goten…?” Pan climbed up on the other side of the couch after getting bored rather quickly.

“What’s up, squirt?”

“Is Santa Claus really comin’ tonight?”

“Definitely.” He grinned at her childlike innocence; it reminded Goten of himself at that age. “You gotta be asleep, though. He won’t come if you’re awake!”

“How does he know?”

Goten patted his niece’s head. “It’s ‘cause he’s magic, Panny.”

“Magic? Is that like how Grandma always knows when Grandpa does something bad?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Goten chuckled. For a three year old, Pan was much more aware of things than she let on.

Coming back to the living room, Marron plopped down next to Goten, leaning against his arm. Now that she was over the embarrassment of getting caught by her father and Goku, the blonde wanted to make up for lost time. She watched him play for a bit, and then turned to him with a sly smirk. “Bet I can beat you.”

“Yeah you probably can, cause you’re a big cheater.” Goten replied with a cheeky grin, not keeping his eyes off the screen.

“Hey! I am not a cheater!” Marron huffed, her bright blue eyes narrowing at him. “It’s not my fault you just get so easily distracted!”

“That’s why it’s cheating! You always play dirty by kissing me right when I’m about to win!!”

“You call it cheating, I call it strategy.”

Goten normally would never say no to a kiss from his beautiful girlfriend, but she’d always steal the win while he was still reeling from the kiss! It wasn’t fair! One time, Goten tried the same trick on her, but it didn’t quite work the way he intended. It backfired entirely, actually. As she just kissed him back and they both ended up completely forgetting about the video game soon after that.

Marron’s frown turned into a sly grin. If that’s how he wanted to play, fine. She knew exactly what buttons to push. “Fine. I just won’t kiss you ever again. How does that sound?”

“N-No, w-wait! I, uh...” Goten gulped. His mouth became dry, the words getting caught in his throat. He really did this time. Was this his worst fear coming true?!

The blonde giggled at his adorable panic-stricken face, satisfied with herself. “That’s what I thought, dummy. But still, lucky for you, I don’t think I could ever give this up~” Marron kissed his cheek again, leaving her boyfriend reeling as she went to the bathroom to freshen up before dinner.

Goten put his head in his hands and let out an audible sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand girls…”

From across the couch, Pan started giggling. “Uncle Goten did something bad!” She didn’t really get what the big deal about kissy kissy was to begin with, but seeing her uncle all flustered like that had the toddler tickled pink.

The next twenty minutes rolled by quicker than ever, and finally, it was time to eat.

The adults all came out carrying multiple trays and large bowls. The plates and silverware had already been set as the ever-growing Son family all took their seats around the table.

“Wait, Dad’s not here yet.” Chi-Chi said, looking worried. “Do you think he got stuck in the blizzard?”

“He’ll be here. I can sense his energy. Besides, he’s the Great Ox King! No way some storm is gonna stop him.” Goku confirmed, easing his wife’s worries. He winked at her and Chi-Chi smiled.

And like clockwork, a few minutes later the door swung open. The cold wind blew snow onto the floor of the house, when in came a giant, jolly looking man with a grayish beard. He wore a large red coat and carrying lots of presents. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Pan gasped, practically standing up in her chair. A large jolly man with a big belly. Red coat. A beard. And carrying presents. That could only mean one thing…

“Santa!!!?”

But she thought she had to be asleep!

Chi-Chi hurried to the door to greet the man. “Dad! You made it!”

“Hi, pumpkin!” Ox King hugged his daughter. “Am I late? Sorry I missed the cooking, it’s like a blizzard out there! Can’t see a thing.”

Goku grinned. “You’re just on time. ” He went up to his father-in-law who brought the Saiyan into a big bear hug, followed by doing the same with his two grandchildren.

Pan tilted her head to the side, more than a little confused. “...That’s not Santa?”

“No, honey. It’s your Great Grandpa Ox! You remember him, right?” Videl told her. Pan thought about it for a second, and the name was familiar! Her expression lightened when she remembered. Pan flew over to him and gave him a big hug.

As the adults got Ox King set up, Pan the conversation no mind as she stared at the pile of presents on the floor in awe. She gently tried to shake each box to try to guess what was inside but didn’t have much luck.

“Mama, Papa, can I open them now??” She asked, barely containing her joy.

Gohan and Videl exchanged a look and sighed. “You can open Grandma and Grandpa’s present after dinner. The rest will have to wait ‘till tomorrow morning.”

“Okay!” Pan replied. That was good enough for her!

And so with everyone in attendance, the feast could finally begin.

In typical Saiyan fashion, the Son boys filled their plates far above regular capacity. Little Pan tried to mimic her grandpa and uncle and put as much food on her plate as her little hands could grab.

Krillin did his impression of Yajirobe for the others, especially Pan who never heard it before. 18 spoke her new job as a school teacher, and Videl’s new case as Satan City’s top detective, with her right hand man Great Saiyaman.

Meanwhile, In record time, Goku finished his plate and went back for more. Goten wasn’t far behind him.

“More please!”

“Me too!”

Father and son respectively said.

“I wants more too!” Pan said, and then remembered the thing to say that her parents taught her. “Um, peas!!”

Chi-Chi smiled. “Of course, angel.” And then turned her gaze to her younger son. “Oh, and Goten, you really should behave yourself in front of your future wife. It’s not polite to eat like that!”

Gohan cracked a grin. “Yeah, Goten. Listen to Mom.”

“Not helping!”

Videl lightly slapped Gohan’s arm. “Oh stop. You’re one to talk, aren’t you? I distinctly remember a time when you were the one getting flustered whenever someone brought up our relationship.”

“Well that’s-”

“No excuses. You were a nervous wreck on our first date, remember? You wore your pants inside out!” Videl playfully poked his shoulder. She turned to Goten and winked.

At least somebody was on his side….

Chi-Chi suddenly gasped. “Oh, I forgot the wine! Excuse me for a second.” She got up and went into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a large bottle. She poured a glass for each of the adults, minus Goku and Gohan. Goku didn’t like the taste, but Gohan wanted to try it.

“Mom, can I have some?” Gohan asked.

“Absolutely not, mister! You know what happened last time. You dressed up as Saiyaman and put a performance on for everyone! And you have Pan now, you need to be a better influence!” Chi-Chi scolded him, but the smile never left her face.

Gohan hung his head as Goku patted him on the back while Goten snickered. “I’m sorry. I got carried away last time because everyone was having so much fun.”

“I for one loved it.” Videl gushed. “It reminded me of when we were still teenagers~”

“R-Really?!” Gohan said, blushing.

“Oh fine, here.” Chi-Chi caved and handed her older son a glass. After a story like that, she couldn’t say no.

When Goten went to reach for the bottle afterward, Chi-Chi gave a stern look to her younger son that practically screamed ‘don’t even think about it!’

Goten frowned, dejected. Every time he tried that, and every time he failed. And now it was Gohan’s turn to snicker.

Chi-Chi couldn’t help but laugh. Even though they were grown, her sons still had that little brotherly competition.

“Boys will be boys...” Videl said and Chi-Chi nodded in affirmation. Especially her boys.

Krillin took the bottle next. He put too much in his glass and then downed it.

“Okay, lisssten up! I haaaave to make an announcement!!” Krillin declared and then burped.

Eighteen sighed. “Here we go…”

Everyone stopped to listen to him, with various degrees of amusement written all over their faces. Goku most of all. He put down his food to give his best friend his full attention. Oh, he had been waiting for this.

“Oh no, not again....” Marron said with a fearful expression, preparing for the worst. She was already embarrassed by him once. But twice? She’d rather bury her head in the snow outside.

“What’s the matter?”

“When my dad drinks, he gets a little too happy and starts blurting out embarrassing things.”

Krillin cleared his throat and began to speak. “I...I looove my wife!!”

“Huh?!” Eighteen was caught off guard by his confession as if it were the first time hearing it.

“She’s sooo pretty… And so n-nice… And so cool!” Krillin hiccuped, putting his empty glass on the table. He hiccuped again, his goofy smile only getting larger. “She acts real tough, but… she’s a.. She’s a biiiiig softie! Like a---”

Eighteen covered her husband’s mouth before he could finish, her face turning the same crimson as her daughters did earlier as everyone laughed. “Krillin, s-stop it you idiot! W-We’re in public!”

“S-Stooop what? The party’s just getting started.”

Eighteen handed him a glass of water to get him to sober up before he blurted out something else. It didn’t take much to get Krillin loosened up, but he sobered up quickly as well.

That big dork, blurting out something so embarrassing like that. She had a reputation to uphold! How was she supposed to freak Trunks and Goten out if they knew her ‘stone cold’ persona was just a big act?! In her own mind though, Eighteen swooned. But she wasn’t about to let anyone know! In public at least.

Dinner wrapped up soon after. Not a single morsel was left over.

“Time for presents!!” Pan said and then plopped down on the carpet in front of the tree,

At the sight of her daughter, Videl’s couldn’t help but feel giddy. She was the same way at Pan’s age, and Pan’s joy was absolutely infectious.

“This is a special present from me and Grandma.” Goku handed his granddaughter a large box. He wrapped his other arm around Chi-Chi and she rested her head on his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head. Nothing was better than being altogether as a family, watching her granddaughter open a present on Christmas Eve

Pan ripped off the wrapping to find a plain white box inside. She curiously stared at it, and even shook it to try to hear what was inside. It didn’t sound like a toy, for one. Hearing nothing, she slowly took off the lid.

Instantly Pan gasped.

It was a small, red colored martial arts gi with matching belt and wristbands, and small blue fighting boots.

Pan’s first gi.

“This is the bestest present ever!” Pan’s entire face lit up like a star. “Can I go try it on?”

Pan flew upstairs with her new gi, returning a few minutes later wearing it, still beaming. “Look at me, Papa! I look like Grandpa!”

Pan couldn’t be happier which made Gohan and Videl happy.

“Oh, Pan, look, there’s something else in here.” Gohan pointed to the red object poking up of extra wrapping paper.

Pan then came face to face with a small red pole inside a sheathe, tied with a fresh rope. “What is this?” She stared at the mysterious item, confused. She liked it; it felt familiar. “Is it a baseball bat?”

“No, sweetie, this is the Power Pole.”

“Power Pole?”

“It used to be my grandpa’s. He gave it to me when I was little. And I took it all over the world looking for the Dragon Balls. I almost lost it a few times, but it always found it’s way back to me. One way or another. It was only natural to pass it onto you.”

Pan put the Power Pole around her shoulder. With a puff of her cheeks, Pan flexed her muscles. For the first time, Pan felt like a true fighter.

“You look just like me!” Goku knelt down and held out his open hands. “Give it a shot.”

Pan looked to her father, who nodded. Smiling, the toddler punched Goku’s open palm.

“Yup, she's my granddaughter alright.” Goku grinned. “She’s got some serious power behind that punch.”

“Next present!” Pan exclaimed.

“Nope. Sorry, Pan. The rest have to wait till tomorrow, remember?” Gohan said.

“Aww, okay. But I bet those wont top this!” She waved the Power Pole around. It was best they didn't tell her it could grow just yet.

Throughout the night, the sound of laughter could be heard coming from a small house deep in the woods. It could still be heard echoing in the valley, late into the night. Inside, the room was aglow with the love that is shared between family and friends.

Pan’s first Christmas Eve was truly a night to remember for them all. And one she would never forget.

#dragon ball #son family #marten #pan #goku #chichi #goten #gohan #videl #krillin #18 #marron #ox king #fluff

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simplysparrow14 · 4 years ago

Text

Why I absolutely hate Korra.

Gifted Children do not make good protagonists.

I really hate Korra. Like, I fucking cant stand her as a characters. She’s honest to god one of the only characters besides Kylo Ren that I just full on hate.

She’s whiny, She’s cocky, she’s too brash for her own good. She got the biggest overinflated ego the size of Mount Fuji. She bitches and moans when something doesn't go her way, and then as the balls to blame other characters or blow up in their faces when she’s starts the fire herself!

She leaps into battle before she thinks and when the villain of the season kicks her ass to the curb, we’re supposed to sympathize with her and feel sorry for her, even though She deserved everything she had coming to her

Her god complex is bigger then the fucking sun and she gets all pissy when someone even mildly calls her out on her bullshit or even gives her polite constructive criticism on her Avatar duties.

She never learns diplomacy or peacekeeping or patience or empathy for others around her or when to shut the fuck up and take a step back before you get the shit kicked out of you.

One of the prime examples of her being absolute stupid was when She and Mako go to one of Amon’s rallies, and after figuring out that Amon was a bloodbender who locked his own brother up in a cage, they decide to go to the rally to boldly claim that Amon is a bender without presenting any physical or damning evidence that suggest otherwise.

“How in the world do we beat him?”

“We cant. Any attack we throw at him, he’ll redirect with his mind. That’s how he’s been able to challange any bender.”

“So much for our ambush....If we stay here, we’re toast. But there’s another way to beat him!”

“How?!”

“This whole time, Amon’s been one step ahead of us. But finally, we have an advantage...We know the truth about him!”

“If we expose him as a bender in front of all his supporters, we can take away his true power!”

.......huh...... WHAT?..... A-are you serious?! THAT’S YOUR ADVANTAGE AGAINST AN ALL-POWERFUL BLOODBENDER ?! WE’RE REALLY GOING TO BLATANTLY CALLING HIM OUT IN FRONT OF ALL OF HIS FOLLOWERS WITHOUT EVEN A SHRED OF EVIDENCE?!

what makes matters worse is that they don’t even take Tarrlock with them. They just leave him in his cage. Like, yeah, he tells them to go because he doesn’t want Amon’s supporters and the rest of the public to know he was Amon’s brother, but honestly, that hasn't stopped Korra before from forcing someone to give her what she wanted. She’s not lik a regular person who has to abide by the rules of Rebublic City, she’s the goddamn fucking avatar: If she wanted a fucking statue erected in her honor, she would order that in a fucking heartbeat.

ANd May I remind you, lovly readers, that Korra literally manhandled a non-bender activist to give her information about Amon’s next rally not just a few episodes before this?

So her acting this respectful and this pulled-back is so out-of-character and jarring to watch because the show clearly states that Korra is a bad bitch and if she wants something really badly, she’ll fucking get it herslef, no questions asked.

And then when Amon corners them in a storage room and beats the shit out of them with bloodbending and chi-blocking, we have to feel sorry for them. We have to feel sorry to Korra All because her “expertly” constructed plan didn't work out, and that Amon took the brats bending away when she busted into his rally uninvited without evidence to show to his followers, or even a half-ass plan on how to effectively beat the shit out of him if he refused to go down easily.

Look, I get that we have to have dramatic tension for the story, but that doesn't mean that the characters have to lose a majority of their very limited brain-cells in order for it to happen. We should not have to sacrifice a character’s personality in order to progress the story.

There’s also the fact that during Season 1 when Korra literally barges into Tarrlocks’ office unannounced to let the non-benders out of jail and berates him about how he’s intimidating people into falling in line with his views and opinions

“You’re using your power to oppress and Intimidate people!”

Its only when Tarrlock pulls the Reverse Uno Card on Korra’s superiority complex that we as the audience get the first and maybe last good spot of introspection and interesting character development within this show

“And you don't? Isn’t that what you came here to do? Intimidate me into releasing your friends?”

But then, its all thrown out the window when Korra goes full ape-shit and tries to fuck-up Tarrloq, and we’re again supposed to feel bad for her when Tarrlok fuck her up right back with blood-bending, kidnaps her and locks her up in a metal box.

Your avatar, every one.

All throughout these scenes, we never get any notion that she’s gaining character development.

She never takes a step back, never looks into the situation, She never shuts the fuck up, never considers that maybe, just maybe, her plan might not work. There’s no patience in her what so ever and it infuriates me to no end!

And yet, the show treats her as through she did nothing wrong! They treat her like a goddamn goddess, and its so....

There’s also the fact that throughout the series, Korra goes through more pitty parties and anger bursts then most characters have in their entire series run and in the end, her woes/ temper tantrums are forgiven because, well, she’s the protagonist.

Your boyfriend calls you out on your bullshit about the civil war happening between your home-tribe and the sister tribe? Crash his place of work and throw his desk across the room and tell him that he’s a traitor just for doing his job--A job he;s wanted to be apart of since he was little, no less.

Cant figure out how to work with the wind panels without getting punched around? Don't be the leaf and burn a historic Airbending training device to ash!

“That was a Two-thousand year old historical treasure… WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“There’s nothing wrong with me! You’re a terrible teacher!”

Cant handle being called a wuss? Challenge the mastermind of a political movement with chi-blocking and blood bending to a fight under your previous incarnations statue and then cry like a bitch when he kicks your ass.

No Korra, you don’t get to cry when it’s clearly you’re fault it happened in the first place. Look, I get that you’ve just had a low-key high-key traumatic moment.....But you don’t have brain-cells. You knew he could take away bending--You saw it at their rally not just a few days ago-- so i don’t know why you thought that challenging him to a one-on-one duel in a dark, abandoned place where no one can hear you scream was an perfect idea you dumb bitch.

Aparently,

Its also apparent within the series that she never has to work for her character development, or work for what she wants.

People often remark that Korra was coddled at the Avatar, but I feel as if Spoiled is the best word:

In the beginning of the series when the White Lotus comes to the southern Water Tribe to Search for the Next Avatar, we're Introduced to Korra punching a hole through the wall, spewing flames from her fists and using water to put out the fire. Hell, the first sentence that we hear from the brats mouth is “I’m the Avatar. You gotta deal with it.”

Look, no one likes gifted children (unless those children are yours). Gifted Children are probably the worst type of main character to have, because the whole point of your main character is that people are suppose to relate to them. People cant relate to gifted children, because we, as normal human beings, are not all gifted.

Cut to 15 years later, and we learn that Korra hasn't even left the Southern Water Tribe. Teachers have been flown into the water tribe to teach Korra more on the elements. And at the every start of the first episode, we see her pass her her fire bending test, with her commenting on how already she’s mastered Water and Earth.

The whole point of the Avatar journey was that the Avatar had to journey to find their teachers and experience the world they needed to protect. When you take away that Journey, you’re just leaving the Avatar to be handed everything on a silver platter.

During Season 2 when Kaiju Korra nearly gets her ass handed to her, Jinora force-ghosts her way into the battle and gives Korra the upper-hand during the battle with Vaatu, almost entirely erasing any the trace amounts of danger that the battle was trying to portray.

There’s also the fact that in the middle of Season 2 when she’s fighting Eska and Desna, suddenly out of no-where she can Spirit bend (Or as I like to call it, Spirit-pacification) without so much as a single day of training. Like, talk about pulling out an ability out of your ass.

There’s also the fact that during her visit to the Su-yin’s home, she masters Metelbending out of no-where and then has to gawl to show off in front of Bolin, who’s been trying to metelbend for a while.

There’s also the fact that she’s never punished for any of her actions.

When Amon takes her bending away, she never as a moment to reflect on how her actions affected her future or the rest of the avatar cycle. We never see her come to terms that facing Amon head on resulted in her losing her bending. And when it looks like it does have an impact on her, Ghost Aang pops up right out of nowhere, takes pitty on her and gives her back her bending. Oh, and we’ll also throw in the Avatar State as well, as a treat.

Right after she destroys the alleyway in the first episode of Season 1, Tenzin busts her out of jail and says to Lin that he’ll cover all the damages Korra caused!

There’s also the incident where Tenzen told Korra not to go to the Pro-Bending tournament. And when Tenzen does have to drag her ass back to Air-temple Island, he remarks that Pro-bending is what she needed, completely Ignoring the fact that she disobey’d a direct order from her master and thus is never punished for it!

She’s never called out on her bullshit regarding her very sudden kiss with Mako when the man openly and explicitly said that he was dating another woman.

(Like, girl, i get it. you have feelings for him, I get it. But when someone says: “I’m already dating someone right now.” and they admit they might be also have very confusing feelings for you as well, You back the fuck up and give them time to make a decision. You just don’t go: “Oh you already have a girlfriend? oh, smoochy smoochy time then.”)

Omg, it’s like the show was entirely written by male writers who have no idea how to write romance or develop unique and interesting characters who are not homicidal bat-shit insane brats who cry’s when they’re not the center of attention

I guess my big question towards Korra’s character is… Why?

Why do we have to root for a character who doesn't struggle, doesn't think she has to try to master her bending and that everything should come easily? How are we supposed to connect to someone when they blow up and get all pissy when someone even just lightly insults their god complex?

Why is she a waterbender when she has the temperament of a fire-bender? Why is she getting her ass kicked by every villan if she’s the all powerful avater? Why is she the avatar when she doesn't have when a shred of humbless or appreciation for the bending she’s been given? Why do we have to put up with a brat of a protagonist for 3+ seasons?

She is, in the bluntest term I can say, a meaningless character. She holds no purpose to the story or its messages or its themes.

Aang was meaningful because it was his story and he was a 12 year old with the weight of the fucking world on his shoulders as both the last living Airbender and the Avatar, all while trying to navigate a world that did not and would not uphold his peaceful beliefs.

Katara was meaningful because she broke down social norms by not only mastering the both the female -only water-bending techniques and Male-only water-bending fighting style, but also the scary-as-fuck-blood-bending. She showed the duel sides of being a bad ass strong independent woman.

Toph was meaningful because she was an all-powerful earthbender who was fucking blind, showing that disabilities cant stop you from kicking ass.

Sokka and Suki were meaningful because they were two badass people who didn't need bending to kick fire-nation ass. You don’t need to be like everyone else to save the world.

Zuko was meaningful because his failures,and mistakes and abuse and scar showed people that no matter how awful your current situation was, you’re able to build a better life for yourself through hard work, self-love and good people who love you.

Korra is meaningless. She is selfish, and spoiled and the only message she has to tell “Be a brat, cry a lot, and throw temper tantrums until you get what you fucking want.”

Fuck Korra. Fuck her character. I’ve never seen a character so poorly executed in my life, and I surly hope I dont ever get to see that ever again.

#Legend of Korra #The Legend of Korra #Avatar #Atla #AtloK #Korra #Mako #Bolin #Asami #Tenzin #Amon

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imuybemovoko · 4 years ago

Text

My beliefs now

I set this blog up for a bunch of different purposes including conlangs/worldbuilding stuff, my writing, and my views on religion and maybe also politics. So far, mostly, I’ve ranted a lot about the beliefs I left behind. Now that I’ve let that particular sketchy brand of Christianity, now that I’ve discovered the ways it and my conservative family background were probably turning me into a fascist while I was still in all that, I figure I might as well try to hash out where I stand now. I’m around eleven months out from my deconversion, and a lot has already changed. I might try to attempt a before and after thing but there’s a lot to unpack about how I used to think and I’m not sure I’ve understood everything yet. I think I made the mistake of thinking that not very long before that repressed memory about “Sharon” and her Jonah display came crashing back in March. This is current to late July 2020 and may not include everything.

So without any further ado, let’s talk background. First, some things I’ve already either mentioned or given more than enough evidence for. I used to be a Christian fundamentalist. (Clearly. I rant about it a lot.) I got into that because I was raised religious, then let myself fall right the fuck into what I’ll call “deep end lite” shortly before senior year in high school. Some local churches in my small town arranged a missions trip thing and the way I agreed to go along felt in the moment like surrendering to a voice that’s been speaking to me all along. In ...a way, it was. Just not the voice I thought. I’m pretty sure I didn’t want this god, at any point like ever, until that little part of me whispered that it would be easier to accept him. I have a megathread document that I’ve stored a lot of my “God stories” from my time as a Christian in. Unfortunately I didn’t remember many specific details of this experience to write down in there, but I did write a bit of a “life-story” thing that reminds me that, chronologically, that happened after a period of focused attempts by the church to indoctrinate me, some traumatic things my family did, social struggles, and feeling like an asshole because of things I’d done in the past. I remember having this growing sense over the previous year that I was approaching some kind of very dangerous breaking point, to the point where (trigger warning: mental instability, school shooter mention. Please either stop here or skip to where it says “in other words” in the next paragraph after this if that’s going to be an issue. It also keeps getting dark from there for a minute. Please, please tread with care if you need to. There is no shame at all if this becomes too much. Take care of yourself first and foremost.)

when discussing how I came to accept the faith, I told some of my Christian friends that I felt like there was a scary chance of me becoming a school shooter. I think this may have been a post-hoc projection, but I can’t quite be sure of that. I was in a bad place for a bit there in high school. I had a wild temper and some sketchy intrusive thoughts.

In other words, it hit at a perfect moment of weakness. That’s how oppressive forms of spirituality function, it’s how hate groups function... it’s a massive shit cocktail and I found a pretty bad influence in the form of people who promote that whole “born again experience” thing in Christianity. I’d say I’m glad I missed out on being dragged into a fascist ideology this way, but uh... I’m no longer convinced I didn’t grow up around something like that. More later.

From there I spiraled my way through my first attempts at college through the university’s chapter of the Chi Alpha campus ministry and, peripherally through that, Assemblies of God (holy shit those guys are wild), then through a local Baptist church (more peripherally) and Calvary Chapel (I was a worship guitarist here for like 18 months and helped with their youth ministry for almost as long) closer to home and a CRU chapter at my community college. With each passing year I slipped further and further into this weird shame-induced funk where I got like... addicted to Jesus and hated myself or something. It’s a bit hard to find words that don’t take multiple entire extra pages and I want to be concise, so I’ll simply call it “Jesus-flavored depression” for brevity and because that was enough of a genuinely bad time (and I’m still fucked up enough) that I might need some fairly serious therapy.

Near the end of 2018 I was reaching a breaking point, wondering why nothing ever seemed to change in my life from “sexual sin” (...which in my case literally consisted of being attracted to women and occasional self-pleasure, but they literally teach you to hate yourself for less than that in the spicier churches rip) to my direction in life to how trapped I felt by my family. I also started to have more questions about the violence in the Bible and some of the sketchier doctrines, and that was strongly reinforced by some of the things I saw in a creative writing class I took, including an atheist who shared a story of a profoundly negative experience involving being taught about hell at a very young age. All that led to the absolute disaster that was December 2018. It was my last semester at the community college I went to. Finals week was a fucking disaster, and the week before that too, and my grades were really good but at great cost. I won’t go into a ton of detail because 1. space concerns and 2. this time is still damn painful to discuss, but just know that I’m unconvinced I’d have survived that month without this song. (Yes, that’s Paramore. Shut up xD they’re still good.) I looped it for like three days straight and I think it was just enough to keep me going through what was the third time I had any suicidal kind of thoughts ever and by far the worst and longest period of it so far.

So the next several months (and I won’t go into a ton of detail about this, I intended this post more to describe my current position and I don’t wanna get too in the weeds with background) were a confusing period of questioning, starting with, of all things, my family dynamic. The spiral after the week before finals was ...considerably worsened by some comments my dad made, and between that and some experiences in the past that the creative writing class I took that fall reminded me of, I was exposed to a bit of a deeply toxic pattern. I might discuss that more deeply in another post, but for now suffice it to say that extensive youtube binges and some other research between about January and March told me the situation is probably adjacent to pathological narcissism in some way. I brought some of this up to the church I was attending at the time (a small town Calvary Chapel, if I haven’t mentioned that already) and their responses were ...inconsistent. Some people blamed me, some people said “oh dang your dad is abusive”, and some people took the “your parents are trying their best” tack. In retrospect I think that made me doubt if God’s messaging to these people could really be trusted. Then, in about April, the question of hell came up again. I was helping in the church’s budding youth ministry at the time and we had about four regular attendees between the ages of 12 and 18. There were about three weeks in a row when one of the other adults (I’ll call her Kelly for the purposes of not doxxing; also more on her later) talked at length about how unbelief leads to hell. I remembered that atheist from creative writing, made the connection to these four kids, and thought, “what the hell are we doing?” (Pun not intended but rather convenient.) I immediately backed down from my role in the youth ministry, citing other equally valid but less pressing reasons involving stress from the issues with my dad, and tried to go on with life. But the floodgates were open.

In late May or early June, I was staring out a window one morning and suddenly a question crossed my mind unbidden: “Is God a narcissist?” I thought back to a relatively recent sermon by the associate pastor in which he explained that the purpose of the world was “for God’s glory”, to some apparent sudden flights of rage, and some other factors in the scriptures, and thought, “holy shit, I need to investigate this, because God is also very adjacent to narcissism.” It took a hot minute for the ball to really get rolling with that, but once it did... I came to a point by late June or early July where I delivered an ultimatum to God, something to the tune of “Ok, either show me how all these questions I have can be answered beyond a doubt or I’m done.”

There was no answer.

God was silent during this time, and the people in the church were shocked that I had the questions I did and either concerned or ...rather spicy. I joined an ex-Christian discord server to aid in a proper, thorough investigation. I aired my questions both there and on a Christian discord server. The Christian server was toxic as fuck and the ex-Christians started making a crazy amount of sense. I watched some videos from Cosmic Skeptic and TheraminTrees (most notably the latter’s deconversion story) for new perspectives and, by mid-August, had crashed out of the faith altogether.

So the last time I ever stepped into a church with the intent of attending service (I showed up after once in January of 2020 to kinda let them know and that went pretty badly lol) was about two weeks before I started college again in the fall. I burned all but one of my Bibles and a collection of gospel tracts I never did anything else with and stylized it like my limited understanding of what a satanic/pagan ritual looked like, complete with a chant in my conlang Aylaan for a more personal twist because of course, to feel edgy. (I did a lot of kind of weird shit to feel edgy; that’s one of two of them I’m sure I don’t regret.) And after that, things got ...ah, confusing?

Because of course when the linchpin of your understanding of the world gives way, everything becomes fucked for a hot minute.

So the first thing that happened was a couple months of anxiety and confusion. I slowly started to deconstruct my inherited political views too. (More on that later.) Then I had this really beautiful interesting moment in late September where I walked past a tree on the way to a class and had a sudden realization that I didn’t have to force the tree into a Christian framework anymore, it was just a beautiful mass of green shit and cellulose. I could appreciate it in whatever way I felt was best. I damn near broke down crying in the bathroom before class, it hit me that hard. So that’s fun xD

Since then I’ve kinda gone through a bunch of funky phases with this, including a couple of months of fairly salty atheism. Along with that process, I started questioning my sexuality in December (more on that in another post in a minute lmao it’s a trip) and literally shredding my politics in the face of Trump being a crackhead in a dangerous position getting away with confirmed illegal shit, COVID-19 and the ...dehumanizing responses of corporations and their sponsored politicians, and then what I noticed about the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd and the fallout from that. (In a nutshell, holy FUCK there’s a huge problem and it’s messed up that people don’t see it.) At this point, I’m socially progressive and pretty left leaning. I don’t know what the hell to do about it or how either other than some of the tense discussions I’ve been having, but I’d like to work against racism and discrimination too. So that’s cool and a lot better than where I was...

which... I regret deeply.

I don’t know exactly how to define my old political views, and they were marked by considerable cognitive dissonance. I’ll try to illustrate this as best I can but I don’t know what label I can use. Here goes.

Cursed images aside, I think the best way to explain this is through some background, i.e. what my parents believe, because my beliefs were largely inherited.

This might be majorly over-simplified and based on what I remember of my own pre-deconstruction views and what I hear them say lately. I’m doing my best, but take it with a grain of salt. Basically, it seems like they walk this weird line between constitutionalist and very authoritarian that I see a hell of a lot of in rural America. Kinda like the Republic party used to before they yeeted into Trump’s mindfuck wholeheartedly. They’re homophobic to a rather alarming degree (more on that in another post soon) and not ...overtly Christian-supremacist but you can tell that their ethics are dripping with it and they’re terrified of Islam and they’d like to legislate some aspects of Christian morality. They also support the second amendment, which is the one thing I still agree with them on that I’m aware of, but they take it to more of an extreme than I’m willing to. For further ...flavor, they also reject the premise that parts of our society are systemically racist (and maybe also the idea that such a thing is even possible because of course), subscribe to the “bootstrap theory” for everything they can think to apply it to, reject climate science, and have been extremely conspiratorial about COVID-19. Also they like making it out like everything is a Democrat conspiracy theory, compare the Democrats to Hitler and Stalin to a weird degree, have on at least one occasion called Fox Motherfucking News left-leaning, and think Alex Jones is wacky but sometimes raises valid points.

So that’s, in a nutshell, a bit of a look at my past political views, except I think I was a bit more Christian-dominionist than them and I think I had moments of “...does this really make any sense?” for years before I crashed out of everything. The first domino was my Christianity, but once that fell, my entire approach to the world went some places.

So ...yeah. Oof. I was sketchy as shit. Glad that’s changed.

So uh... I’ve already mentioned a vague (read: as much detail as I feel confident providing) description of my political views now, but after all this bullshit let’s finally get to the other half of my titular current beliefs. This ...isn’t going to be easy to explain either, but I feel more confident going into more detail. Buckle up :^)

Alright. So except for a couple of months where I was like “there is no god reeee” half because I was sOmE hYpErInTeLlEcTuAl SkEpTiC and half because of trauma from the toxic flavor of Christianity I left and some shitty developments in both politics and my social circles (I’ll talk at some length about “Kelly” in a sec here I think), since leaving Christianity I’ve always been what I’ll call “hopeful agnostic” (I think I stole this term from Rhett and/or Link lol). In a nutshell, what that means to me is “there may or may not be a god, but I hope there is at least one and they’re nice, or like, at least some spiritual thing that has a good aspect that can help me”. I also dabble in shitty rituals where I burn dead plants and occasionally also hate literature like gospel tracts (and, that one time, a couple of bibles) and basically call on “anyone who is listening and gives a fuck, else the placebo effect” for whatever my goal is. Like... witchy-adjacent but I don’t think about it very much at this stage. I kind of enjoy it, and I think for one reason or another it can be good for my mental health, but I’m wary of any kind of commitment or even more serious experimentation, even as I hope to find something good, because ...trauma, and maybe even absent that a desire to not be wrong in a way that’s dangerous to anyone else again. So that’s fun :^)

So if you’ve made it this far through this weird bullshit, thanks, this story is kind of important to me xD and if you couldn’t, and you’re not reading this ending thingy because it got too dark or it pissed you off or something, that’s cool too and you’re beautiful and valid. Whoever you are, I hope you find whatever healing you need. :)

#ex christian #spirituality #politics

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