#Vinny x yumi

[cozyunderworld]

I started this pretty late last night for Woman’s Day. Couldn’t finished it on time big sad.

Shelly 💜

Herí 💜

Yumi 💜

I’m new to procreate so, I forgot about the paint bucket 😂💀. This would have been easier if I remembered the stupid paint bucket 👹💀💀💀

[koiiiji]

NOW THAT U MENTIONED IT. Yes Yumi x Vinny is rlly cute but its so weird how a graduated ADULT who probably has/needs a job is dating a teenage boy, sure Vinny is 18 BUT STILL. They have a huge fanbase and i really cant express my dislike for that ship, not to mention June and her gf too (i forgot her name) like shes an adult with a job and shes dating a student, although im not sure about June’s age but im assuming 18-19.

June and Heri (if im not mistaken) is whole other story to talk about… girl literally been friends with Jay’s uncle… like she probably older then 26, and no, it’s not old - same as Yumi, bc i hate when people (literal kids) say that its old, no being in your 20s isn’t old - BUT DAMN WHY STUDENT GIRLS… i like Yumi and Heri alone, girl bosses and stuff why u need broken teenager by your side? leave him be and to girl his age

like both this couples are cute until you know their age… i can’t consider them as pedos, but i have questions… like simply what they chat about? how’s school been? how’s your homework? oh i payed taxes today, tax deduction has grown so much over the last 4 years… yeah, anyway, how preparation for exams goes?

as a teenager who been in relationship with 20 yo i can say its definitely questionable, like there are signs why they don’t hang out with people their age??

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 5

part 4 | part 6

part warnings: fem!reader, cursing, mentions of blood, stab wounds & h*rassment (tw!), jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), second person's pov (you, you're, your), reader is NOT yumi. wb main story SPOILERS, nothing much happening in here wait for future chs

—

Suki, your roommate-slash-basketball-teammate, didn't let time pass not knowing what really happened to you. She went hysterical after she found your bloodied clothes soaked in the basin in your shared bathroom. You should have tossed it in the trash bin without washing.

She didn't let you live it down. Curse you for having someone with an inquisitive nature for a friend. 

“What happened?!” You carefully took a turn to set foot in the living room, since Suki, after coming to your shared room straight from the airport, decided to go to the bathroom first thing after she entered. You forgot she was coming home.

“Those weren't splatters of dried blood, Suki. It's paint. You must be having jet lag, you should rest.”

“Even someone who's not a medical rookie will know dried blood when they see one.”

You sighed. You tried to fight her suspicious stare off, until you gave up and opened your mouth, “Got stabbed. In a closed alley.”

“What?! Why?! So that's why I can't contact you! Where's your phone?” Of course she would freak out. Anyone with a troublesome friend would.

“Don't tell my mom. I got harassed on my way here. It was self-defense. It happened quickly.”

Her brows furrowed with mixed emotions until she sighed, “How is your wound now? Can I see?” She held your arms lightly in an attempt to turn you to the other way to see your back, but you refused to.

You swatted her hands away. “You don't need to. It's a small one, just a tad bit deep.”

“I don't believe you. Why are you moving around now? Isn't the wound open? You shouldn't even be standing up right now! What if the stitches loosen?!” Suki was losing her mind at how lightly you take the situation for.

“I'm not stupid to walk around places with my back opened like a fucking wallet.”

“Wait, don't tell me you stitched it up by yourself?” her eyes worriedly widened, wondering how it was possible for you to reach your back. “We all have faith in your suturing skills, but we're not doctors! You should have it checked!”

“I–”

“We should go to a hospital—not where your parents work. Some other hospital, anywhere else. I can book a ride, or wait for me to get my car from home and I'll drive us there–”

She picked up her cardigan and keys and was ready to exit the door, uncaring about her own fatigue from her flight. You quickly held her by the shoulders to stop her.

“Hey, hey! It's fine, I'm fine. You're tired from your flight, Suki. You should rest. Besides, someone saw me and already brought me to the hospital.”

“Why did you even come home, you should've stayed in the hospital! Which one?”

“My parents' workplace.” You let go of her shoulders and turned the other way.

She gave you a meaningful look. “Must be someone with a death wish. Who was it?”

You side-eyed her and squinted your eyes.

“What?”

“You don't even agree to be brought to that hospital by me, or anyone. And you probably would have refused help if it meant you being brought there injured. So who was this person who had all the guts to bring you there?”

"Well, I met someone–”

“Someone?” her eyes twinkled in eagerness, as if you mentioning this someone stimulated something in her. And you knew that look too well. This girl. “'Met someone' as in...?”

“Suki.” you gave her a warning look. “He's just… someone. Somewhat interesting at first sight, but no more than that.”

You thought that would stop her, but how wrong you were. Her smile grew even bigger. “So it's a ‘he’? And here I always thought you weren't into men. Are you seeing someone without telling me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.” 

“Do tell me more.”

“Remember that red-haired grouch I stitched temporarily after duty that I told you about?” 

You then told her about everything. Why, where, and how.

“My, what a coincidence! Hadn't I known you well, I would've said you were being brought together by destiny.”

“Get your head off your damn romance novels. It's the only way to push Jay to pursue what he’s really passionate about. If I don't push the grouch, I can't push Jay too. He'll be stuck in a loop of finding his purpose and quite possibly even suffer from an existential crisis forever.”

“You have a point.” Her eyes flicked to the side as she nodded her head in agreement. “So about the guy who brought you to the hospital, what is this grouch to you? You like him?”

“I already told you, No. He's insufferable, and his hair's like a tomato.” You recalled what he looked like. Yeah. Red hair and an attitude. A tomato.

“Tomato, huh? Odd, but okay.” She made a face and tried her best to contain a laugh. “What's his name? Do you have a picture of him?”

You turned to your bedroom, being extra careful while walking to not rip the stitches. The anesthesia was wearing off and you were starting to feel the pain off of your lower back. “I'll tell you some other time. I’m tired.”

Suki quickly noticed how you struggled to walk so she rushed beside you in an instant and held you. “I'll see him at some point. Not now, but I'll surely, finally see your newest obsession.”

You sighed. “Obsession, ha.” 

“Stop being indenial. I know how obsessed you get with people.” You rolled your eyes for the nth time. You were not thinking of him that way. Never, even. He's just someone who needs the crew, and is needed by the crew. 

Right?

——

The weekends passed, you isolated yourself inside your apartment. With Suki only unloading her things inside your shared apartment before coming home to her family home here in Korea, you pretty much spent the rest of the weekend only by yourself. 

Not to mention how the stitches fucking hurt when the anesthesia's effect subsided. You skipped classes for weeks while faking a flu—having Suki cover up for you, to give your discreet wound time to heal before you resumed class. Suki helped you clean it up since you legally cannot reach your back. Thankfully the stab wasn't that big enough to give you difficulties while cleaning, that's why you didn't need to go back to the hospital anymore. 

Which leads you, one time when Suki was attending to your fresh stitches, you wondered how Vinny endured the pain while his wound was healing. Since his, it was actually more deep than yours and bigger from the outside. It must've pained him like shit. You wonder if it left a visible scar.

Oh, speaking of him, You asked Jay about the arrangement of the crew, and you found out… that surprisingly Vinny showed up to their first gathering and first practice as a team. As Hummingbird crew. 

You felt blank. You didn't know what to feel. You didn't expect him to agree but at the same time you were hoping for him to join. You hugged your phone to your chest while staring at Jay's message the night you found out. He made his choice and decided to show himself. 

Good for him. His bespectacled friend's efforts weren't put to waste.

The following Monday morning, your plate was immediately bombarded with council work when you went to the meeting room early to catch up. As the Vice President, there really isn't a single minute to spare. Especially when the new president—Jay's replacement only knows how to parade his title but fails horribly to fulfill his duties. The duties Jay used to manage efficiently during his reign.

The early stress made you yawn while marching through the hallway to make your way through the Principal's office to deliver paperworks for him to sign. When you arrived in front of the office, you were shocked to find a rare sight. Students were making a commotion outside the Principal's office. 

What the hell is going on?

You pushed yourself forward past the students and knocked, earning a muffled "Come in!" from the Principal himself from inside the room. When you twisted the doorknob to step inside, you were once again welcomed by a sight you weren't expecting to see. 

Would you look at that, The Hummingbird crew members all stood affront the Principal and Mr. Nam. You wondered why they're here? Jay hasn't told you anything.

“Sister-in-law! Perfect timing!” Shelly's face lightened up at the sight of your bored face.

Now everyone's attention and eyes were all on you. Your eyes accidentally looked for Vinny the first thing. And there he was, breaking his usual poker-face gaping his mouth and slightly widening his eyes at the surprise of seeing you.

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2023, don't forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

screaming in pain and pleasure cz why does vinny have to join snek crew but at the same time i kinda want to see him and joker team up ffff

[beycx]

gahyeon as yumi jooheon as vinny hong

[nastyjaeger]

𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙭 𝙮𝙪𝙢𝙞

𝙗𝙮: 𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙚𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙖𝙣

[zoraedits]

Vinny Hong & Yumi Lee.

Sauce:- Windbreaker.

By @zoraedits

Do not remove the watermark and repost anywhere else.

[zantirz]

Vinny x Yumi ♡

[iamlovinit]

I heard “Do you want to eat ramen,” is codeword for "Let’s hook up”. I guess Yumi must have misunderstood because our sweet boy literally brought her home just to eat ramen. Haha what a cutie. He even brought her home to meet his mother like a good son❤️

captions:

Yumi: You.. No way, could it be you are jealous? Vinny: No I'm not >:[

V: Let's go home?

Y: What?

V: Do you want ramyeon?

Y: Um, well... Shall we?

Mom: Son, If this is your girlfriend, there's no need to tell me~ Sorry there's no side dishes.. Y: No, that's fine. If mother made it, then it's delicious~ haha...

[imeugene]

Peak BMX and Creativity

It’s just a thought I had today while driving for a few hours. The idea that progression as we understand it now will come to a halt. We can only spin so much more and stuff more tricks into a single combo. At some point we won’t be able to progress much more upon what was already built. I think we’re kind of at that point and in the next 10 years its something I think will show itself more.

Take riders themselves for example. A lot of the highest class riders today are full fledged athletes with diets and work out routines. We’re no longer the lanky awkwardly shaped social outcasts who dominated the hobby in earlier generations but riders who train and follow a regiment to shape their bodies into being the most capable. Of course not everyone is like that but a lot of the higher class riders certainly are. At first it I remember the idea of working out to be a better rider seemed kind of anti-riding something brushed up on that Protown: Greenville documentary. It was thought to be so jockish something riding is against but overtime it just became a thing. Workout culture became a mainstay so I think riding found a cop out through that and its becoming more of a regular occurrence. Outside of real human engineering, technology that doesn’t simply exist at least in consumerway. How much more fit can we get as human beings. Not much really. We’re peaking out in that sense too. 

Bikes themselves have kind of seemingly peaked too. Maybe even 5-10 years ago we were experimenting with how light we can go but we soon realized that light isn’t necessarily better. Not only the increase of breakage that comes with techniques used to lighten bikes like thinner tubings and cut outs. We realize that light bikes don’t maneuver in always a productive way. There is too light something I think even Taj mentioned with his titanium T1 back in the day. It might be the lack of money but also the lack of incentive to make bikes better because quite frankly at this point the BMX freestyle bike is just that. No longer really reminiscent of the racing frames we started on. The angles are different, the freecoaster, plastic pegs, even the half link chain. Nearly everything has been specialized to perform max in freestyle. Two pegs used to be very viable but as more and more have been accomplished, people threw on 4 and a freecoaster simply to open up more possibilities in whats feasible. Now that’s the go to setup for most pros.

What all that means is we’re only capable of what’s humanely possible on bikes and at some point unless something completely drastic happens we’ll come to a standstill in progression as we understand it. Only so many bars can be thrown at some much of a height. Someone will get there and there will be very few who can challenge it. Something we’re beginning to really see now with nitro circus riders and what not. Take something like they’re needing literally mega ramps ramps to accomplish these new bigger tricks. The box jump almost feels used up at this point. At some point level of progression we’re seeing now will drastically stop. Only the fittest of the fit will be able to imagine pushing more and even then it’ll only be for inches, not the strides we’re used to now. 

It happens in art and science all the time. This peaking of skill. In art, Western society has long tried to achieve photorealism. You think something that a very skilled high schooler today could do was always possible but it simply wasn’t the case. It’s only through the culmination of thousands of years of art progression for people to understand the basic concepts and techniques that we take for granted today but once photorealism was achieved where else to go? 

With science, the Wright Brothers first achieved flight in 1903. Which was just 120 feets in 12 seconds. It was a monumentous achievement none the less as flight has been something thats been in the minds of humankind since probably the beginning. But we also landed on the moon in 1969. It took thousands and thousands of years for humans to accomplish 12 seconds of flight. It took 63 years since then to leave the atmosphere. It’s been 48 years since and how much further have we gone? Manned flight wise: zero. We peaked out. We’re fighting for inches again. Sure we probably have the capabilities but for whatever limitations we haven’t achieved more. Limitations occur everywhere. In space travel and in BMX too. Small industry, no money, no money for R&D, stagnated technology. Similar reasonings I’m imagining is happening in NASA. Silicon Valley also. The internet gave birth to whole new sector of business and transformed the world completely with it. Who remembers the speed and limitations of dialup? What we have now live in a near instant world with ubiquitous internet. Sure it can be faster but will it become that much faster? Not as big of a jump as dial up to cable modem was. That industry is also reported to have been peaking these days. A lot of those computer companies that started out as internet brands are looking outside for the next big thing. 

So I’m gonna come back to art. Cause to me BMX is an art form also. What happened after photorealism occurred? People looked elsewhere for new standards and achievements. Art branched out in a million different directions and that really loose term ‘abstract’ became a thing. Abstract really is anything more or less. Anything that’s doesn’t hold to the traditional values of art like photorealism. It can be a guy painting one color, it can be a shark cut in half, it can be something involving poop. As we’re getting closer to achieving peak level of BMX. The traditional values will start to erode a bit and newer values will take it’s place. 

It already happened a lot of times. Take the traditional values of riding style of that generation and compare it some of these popular riders of the time and  it’ll make a lot more sense. Art is contextual and a lot of what we don’t understand in abstract art is people lacking the context of it’s meaning. Like take the popularity of Mark Gralla today for example. If everyone rode like Mark Gralla would it really be that special. No. It’s only cause Ratkid rejects the mainstream consensus of good riding and created his own form which is much more simpler and much more spot based that we get his riding. His riding stems from the old Animal videos but then his own personal riding is even a further extreme extension of that, where he’s almost entirely spot based and lack the traditional rider skills that his forefathers of the OG Animal squad had. Bob, Edwin, Vinnie, Tyrone were all proficient all around riders in their own right. They weren’t X-Games riders but they possessed a lot of technical skills of the time. Is Mark a rider who can be in the X-Games course and hold his own. No way at all. It’s like comparing art between the traditional values of photorealism to something like Rothko’s abstract minimalism. Some may say the photorealism is more skilled which is true but it lacks the subtleties needed to understand Rothko’s abstract work. Like how a cashroll more interesting to a regular viewer than a massive hop into a storm door. For someone who follows East Coast riding and sees the progression in style and realizes Mark is a extreme form of it. Ratkid’s riding is more nuanced. Neither is right or wrong though which is something I try my best to always remind. Just different forms taking place under the same umbrella term for art and riding. 

Ruben was more of the same too. The difference with Ruben is that he was proficient traditional contest rider, just watch his intro to Etnies Grounded section. He did flip whips, I’m pretty sure and 360 whips. All of which were real contest winning tricks at the time. At some point though Ruben diverged from all that and slowly created his own brand of riding. Instead of progressing in normal sense he became more abstract through his years until he hit peak abstraction with his Grounded section where he did more or less one trick. The reason for all that, I’m not sure. Sometimes you realize you can’t keep up and you move a different direction, other times its just what you’re meant to do. Regardless we don’t remember Ruben for his flipwhips anymore, it’s only when his riding became less that it became more. Less is more is something BMX likes to repeat itself often. What are Manuel lines are way to compensate for the lack of ability to push upon regular tricks more? Riders are finding different ways to improve upon old tricks like utilizing opposite more and even switch footed these days. Someone like Ben Lewis is 180ing the last bastion of grinds which haven’t been grind to 180ed or hard 180ed yet. We hit peak physical limitation and that is pushing a lot of riders to be more creative to be shown. Similar of like how the early abstract painters were. Someone like Yumi comes from left fields and does broad strokes of pure abstraction but for a lot of riders it’s these minuscule steps towards it. There is a general idea still of what constitutes a good rider and smith nose bar is it. Being able to consistently do these it tricks that are next step progression. Soon it’ll probably be 720 caps and noses to whips but after that there’s won’t be too much more left to do in my opinion.

I interchange the word abstraction with creativity in BMX. Creativity is not necessarily a skill. Like I remember reading somewhere that Ryan Howard thought smith hard 180s were easier than regular smith 180s. But hard 180s came a long time after only cause of the mental block people had regarding regular feeble 180 and hard 180s probably. Creativity is way to circumnavigate a lot of skill and find use in what’s available and utilize efficiently what’s possible  Ian Schwartz was not the most technically skilled rider something he even admitted. Because of this he was forced to reinvent riding for his own riding to become more. When everyone caught up to what he created, it would be near impossible to reinvent again and what we have is a rider with an extreme level of context but then when you see how people crank arm and freecoaster these days, virtually uncomparable. I’d like to think Steven Hamilton was a similar circumstance where they both created a brand new different style of riding but skill level are still stifled  so when the other skilled riders took what they learned from them and worked upon them, they’re kind of unable to keep up. Only a truly rare breed of creative and skilled rider can do that. Someone like Simone Barraco and Yumi both possess that. Because of their expanded skill, they’re able to open up more levels of creativity. No shots at anyone because Hamilton and Ian are legends for a reason and there’s a thousands of riders who can smith nose bar but very few who can really change the genre of riding.

Peak BMX already kind of happened or is in the happening. These things are always notoriously hard to tell at the time but riding is stifling and people are being forced to be creative. We’re still a monogamous point where everyone was trying to achieve this common goal of being a very technically skilled rider who can do whips and bars and a lot of riders still are. There’s a lot left to do in that area but what I hope is in the coming years that some riders give up on that notion and take that already impressive level of skill they amassed and go a different route. That a lot of riding will be more accessible and accepted as everyone gets tired of smith nose bars. I rag on smith nose bars a lot but then it’s only cause everyone does them. The first one whoever it was was excellent. I’m hoping the riding in it’s entirety breaks out of this kind of mold they created the past years for what constitutes good riding and let different riders with different impressive styles do more and inspire their own. We’ll see. I totally called Nathan William’s winning RealBMX.

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 1

part 2

pairing: vinny hong x jo!fem!reader

warnings: SFW, fem!reader, gifted!reader, cursing, mentions of blood & violence, mentions/flashbacks to vinny's shitty childhood. jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), physical descriptions (resemblance to jay, jay's mother, heavily implied asian features) intelligent!reader, female rage, implications of academic pressure, middle child trauma, second person's pov (you, you're, your), ANGSTY, lowkey self-indulgent, SPOILERS everywhere, includes momma bear vinny but then reader is also kind of a momma bear, reader is NOT yumi, but yumi still exists here. lmk if i forgot anyth

note: i can't stop tossing and turning while reading s4 lol this is how i cope. vinny pls come back now im bawling my eyes rn

—

None of the recontres you had with Vinny Hong in the entirety of your life was normal.

The first time you encountered him was when you accidentally bumped into him in a vulnerable state while walking home under a light rain shower after a tiring day volunteering at the hospital your parents were working in. The light pouring rain hit your umbrella with soft thuds as you were finding your way through the alley you accidentally passed by after taking an alternative route, but getting a little lost in the process.

You shuddered when you heard a groan. You immediately looked around and kept your guard up in case it was a kidnapper. But no, it sounded like one of pain. Stopping your tracks and pulling over your feet, you looked around the alley. Your eyes expectantly scanned until your eyes found the source of the grumbling noise. There he was, slumped against the wall.

I knew it. you thought.

It was a man. How cliché. His head was bowed down so he couldn't see you.

Let me guess, a high school boy was mobbed and injured somewhere and now is left to die in a dark alley to be found lifeless once the sun rises?

You scoffed. If only you had all the time in the world to be a delinquent, that will most likely be where you're meant for. These high school boys are wasting their lives when they unknowingly have the time to choose to be a better person. You discreetly envied how these kinds of people can still choose how they'll live their lives—regardless of presence of sense for separating actions between good and bad.

And so you walked past the alley.

Your steps slowed down as the man groaned again, this time followed by a rustle. A slight pang of guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. Damn it, this wasn't–

You reluctantly looked back to where the man sat. You've always sworn your life you wouldn't meddle in anything that wasn't your business. But for some reason, the guilt of having the ability to help but refusing to, drowned your fixed principle.

Just as you were having an inner banter with yourself, your feet made the decision for you instead and took you to him. You pushed the button on your umbrella to automatically close it, pointing the sharp end to the stranger. You weren't even sure if he's still alive because he suddenly quieted down after that last groan. Only the light from the nearest post gave you an unclear sight of the man and the fluff of his fiery red hair.

One of his hands fell limp on the floor while the other was covering his wound. It seemed like he's been in the same spot for minutes yet the distinct bright colour of fresh blood told you the injury happened not very a while ago. You weren't sure of how to approach him properly, so you lightly kicked his leg once, but he didn't respond. So you kicked him for the second time, this time, harder. Finally, he responded by quietly groaning in pain once again.

“Who… the hell… are you…?” He weakly questioned as looked up to squint and take in your face, but your figure was against the light from the lamp post, so your silhouette was the only thing he's capable of registering. Even when in pain, his voice still sounded atrocious. Like he's someone used to speaking to people harshly. Luckily, you weren't intimidated for a single bit. It'll take a lot more than harsh tones to drive you away. You've been there.

You fumbled inside your tote bag to search for your phone, “Who are you to ask?” When you got ahold of your phone, you turned the flashlight on and you got a clearer view of the blood oozing out of this stranger's side, staining his hand in the process. It looked like a stab wound, judging from the volume of the blood oozing out from the wound.

“As expected.” You raised your hand to point the sharp end of your umbrella to him once again. “I will help you. But if you attempt to do anything funny, I'll stab you on your other side, too.”

Your first option as was to call immediate professional help. As you tried to dial the hospital hotline to call an ambulance, your phone kept indicating there was no service. The signal's jammed. You almost threw your phone to the nearest wall out of frustration as you hit the side of it with your palm. You side-eyed the man behind you.

Shit. Now what? This kind of stab wound is fatal, especially because he already lost plenty of blood beforehand. It wouldn't bleed that much if the penetration wasn't deep. It might have even hit a vital spot. Calling for help now will be difficult because of this deserted alley and the continuous pour of the rain didn't help either, plus, your phone has no service.

“I don't need… your help!” he glared at your silhouette and cursed himself as he shut his eyes tightly while attempting to sit upright, enduring the excruciating pain on his side.

“You're quite obnoxious for a dying man.” You looked around to search for more resources. This is a closed alley. If you leave him here for another minute to find help, he might completely lose his consciousness, he was already limp in the first place. You were left with no choice. Your hand hesitantly reached to fumble around your bag once again until you got an OS, gauze pads and sterilized medical stitching needles.

Your mother would be furious if ever she finds out you stitched a stranger's wounds. You can only imagine her yelling, "Patients are not your playthings and the Medical field is not your playground! Who are you to perform Medical procedures? You're not even a Doctor yet!" Yeah, for sure Dra. Jo wouldn't be so pleased to find out her daughter's attempt to fix someone up. You kneeled and looked at the stranger. You needed to gain his trust as professionally as possible.

“I won't ask your name since you're clearly hard to talk to. I'm [Y/N]. I'm no Guardian angel of yours. I do light voluntary work in hospitals and I have current trainings on how to attend to emergency patients. But I'm still a high school student so I'm not yet licensed. Anyway, going to a hospital will always be the safest option, but I have knowledge about stitching wounds, at least. I'm going to temporarily stitch you up so you don't lose more blood, then we'll get you to a hospital once I find phone service.”

You surveyed his overall state, he looked very pale, although it's easy to tell that he's naturally pale, by losing a lot of blood, he's getting even paler each passing second. You were running out of time.

“Do you consent to this?” You asked him calmly through your glasses.

He breathed out heavily. You knew he was wary and reluctant. Which is understandable. But if it's not you, who else will do it? You heaved a sympathetic sigh. As you unemotionally tell him about the circumstances of his skepticality, that you well acknowledge.

“Hey, you might have a family member waiting for you at home. They would be devastated to just hear from the news that you were found dispatched and lifeless out here in the morning.” you looked around, left and right. Right now, you're the best chance he has if he wants to live. “I won't force your consent out. I haven't touched you anywhere yet and I wouldn't if you don't want me to, so I can just leave you here without me being a potential suspect of your murder. But you should probably think about the ones that didn't know their last sight of you alive was the last they'll get, ever.”

He looks at you for a few seconds while he grits his teeth, before he slowly, lightly nods. Shutting his eyes and removing his hand from covering the wound, implying that he had put his trust in you.

You checked his carotid pulse first. Just as you thought. Erratic and weakened. And then looked over to watch the shallow rise and fall of his shoulders. Shallow breathing. He definitely lost a high volume of blood already. You hastily started disinfecting everything—your hands, the tools, even the gloves. You checked his expression. You gave him a heads-up before lifting the side of his shirt to attend to the wound properly. You began working up and stitching the wound on his right side. You looked at his face once again that's being covered by the shade of the unfinished constructions caging the alley, while going through your first stitch.

“I'm sorry, this is the only option, for now. I'll find more professional help after this.”

He had no more energy left to open his mouth and reply. He grunts in pain while you were busy ushing the needle through-and-through. You asked him to bite down on a cloth while enduring the pain, since you didn't have anesthesia and he can feel every poke of the needle on his skin. You stitched him with precision with your skilled hands. Your hands were painted crimson red during the process.

This wouldn't be your first time stitching. You've done this a couple of times, but only to a simulator. You pulled yourself together as you kept in mind that a person's life is in your hands this time.

While you were focusing on the stitches, all the stranger can muster are croaky groans, as the pain of the wound and the stitches stung, so you tried to do it faster. When you were done, while wiping your blood-stained hands, you noticed how his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he was wincing in pain. He tried to look up at you again, but his sight of you was blurry.

“Don't worry, that'll be removed at once when you're taken to the hospital. What I did is only first aid, and you already lost a lot of blood so we still need to get you to the hospital as soon as possible.”

You pushed your knees to stand up and find phone signal, but before you can, his hand rose and reached for yours.

“No.” He clutched your hand to stop you. His hand was rough—and also large. You have large hands for a female, but his hand almost completely enveloped yours.

The side of your lips shifted downward while looking down at him. “When I said trust me, I only meant temporarily so I can temporarily close your wound. I didn't mean with all your life."

“Just no hospital.”

“You must really want to die.”

He gripped your hand tightly from the severe pain he's enduring. You know how much pain he's going through right now and he didn't mean to do so, so you let him squeeze your hand.

“I would rather die, than pay a hospital bill.” he weakly held on to you, falling completely unconscious. His head fell on your lap. You furrowed your brows and put his head into a more comfortable position.

Oh, so he was serious on dying?

You coming to his rescue definitely doesn't just end with a few stitches.

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2023, don't forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

always remember to put seeking professional help as top priority if you ever encounter this kinda scenario irl

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 4

part 3 | part 5

pairing: vinny hong x jo!fem!reader

part warnings: fem!reader, gifted!reader, cursing, mentions of blood & violence, graphic description of wounds, jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), physical descriptions (resemblance to jay, jay's mother, heavily implied asian features) intelligent!reader, second person's pov (you, you're, your), reader is NOT yumi. wb main story SPOILERS

—

You didn't get the chance to react once you felt the cold blade of the knife penetrating your flesh from behind. The grip of your hand on the glass shard loosened from shock, causing it to drop from your hand down to the ground, making a high-pitched clank!

He pulled the knife out from where he stabbed on your back and gestured to the man lying on the floor to move. Damn it! This was their plan from the start! That's why the first man carried no weapons!

You backed-up and fell backwards, butt-first. You shut your eyes in pain. The man whose face was bleeding hastily scrambled on his feet to collect his stance and harshly pulled your bag, they flipped the bag upside-down and your things fell scattered on the concrete ground. You didn't see clearly, but you were sure they took your important belongings like your wallet and phone. When they're done taking everything valuable, they quickly scrammed and left you alone. 

"Hah, I'll get you back, fucking bastards! Get your asses back here!” You gritted your teeth in pain. The first time in a while that you got into a fight again, but at the cost of getting stabbed.

Did they get away with that, from so much anger, your guard was off! You limped your way to sit against the concrete wall of the alley. You tried to search for your phone but you remembered that those monsters took it. I'll kill them.

Your eyes widened in horror when you felt your own blood from your behind. Shit. This wasn't a part of what you expected to happen tonight. You remembered your medical stitching staples, they couldn't possibly have taken those. They're inside your bag, but you didn't know where it went when your things scattered, and you can't see from the dark.

Your scrambling was interrupted when someone stopped directly in front of you. You thought it was one of those fuckers that doubled-back to either kill you or retrieve the rest of your belongings. But to your surprise, the stranger standing across from you didn't do anything. You can only look down to his feet. You only caught a glimpse of mud-stained, red old skool shoes. No, this isn't what either the mobs were wearing. 

“Who're you?” You squinted up at him.

“I knew it. Pesky girl. I finally found you.”

That voice…

“Do I know you?” your eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion, ignoring the name he just called you.

His feet stepped back. “You. What are you doing here?”

“Who are you?” You repeated your question. You were starting to feel the sharp pain on your back and a small movement makes it worse.

“You're the girl who stitched me up months ago. Heard your voice cursing someone while walking by, I thought it sounded familiar.”

Oh… Oh.

"Ah…” You grinned and looked down in amusement. “So you remembered. What an awful scenario for a reunion.”

You relaxed your limbs to slump against the wall more. You heard taps of a finger clicking on something only to realize he's trying to open his phone light when you finally got a glimpse of illumination when he finally turned it on. And even if he's against the light, you can see him. There's that familiar fluffy, fiery red hair.

It is him.

You twisted the corner of your lip upwards as it curved into a mischievous smirk. “Looks like deja vu, Vinny Hong? Only with switched roles this time?”

“You have some serious nuts in your head to joke even while bleeding to death. Want me to stitch you up, too?” He sarcastically countered, like it was a normal occurence for him to look at fresh blood, too.

You kicked your feet against the concrete ground and with a slightly hopeful tone, you asked, "Can you do it?"

"Do what?"

“Stitch me up.”

He blinked behind his phone light. “Are you being serious right now?”

You twisted your lips and laughed, “Serious as in I'm-losing-blood-as-time-passes-and-I'm-going-to-die serious.”

“You sure you're that girl from that night? You were more tamed and quiet the first time I saw you.” His eyes drifted on the blood on your hands.

“Well that's because tamed, in fact, is not me.”

It's been months since that incident. And this is the first time you saw him after never expecting to cross paths with him again. With the unintentional help he was providing by turning his phone light on, you got a chance to have a clearer sight to rip the seam of your uniform undershirt's end. Vinny didn't say a word nor move a muscle for a moment. You can feel his eyes following what you're doing. He squinted his eyes very slightly as he seemed more suspicious of you. He wonders how can it be possible that you're this calm and still able to think practically despite being stabbed? 

You started struggling to push yourself forward and sit properly as you tried to reach behind you to cover the stab wound with the cloth. The part of the shirt slipped off your hand as you let out a sharp hiss. This is not going to work. You need help from another person.

Vinny only firmly held his phone up. He's not capable of doing medical procedures, but at least he was making an effort to help you even in the simplest way. You cursed under your breath and inhaled a nostril-stinging amount of oxygen.

“Help me.” You kicked the ripped cloth to the side. You can't use it anymore, it's contaminated.

“Well unlike you, I don't know how to stitch a wound up.”

“Can you at least try?”

"Are you crazy? I'm not you!”

“Just a couple staples will suffice.”

“No.”

“Think of me as paper–”

“No!”

“Agh! Fuck. Nevermind, I'll do it myself. Just please get my medical staples!”

"You can't reach behind you. You're going to kill yourself faster if you do whatever hell you're planning to do. You can't die yet, I still have questions to ask,” he looked around before his gaze drifted to your face once again. “I'll call an ambulance.”

“No… No!” You reached for his arm. “No hospital. I told you, I can do it myself.” Your grip on his arm tightened slightly from the pain of the wound and at the same time, a non-verbal way of begging him to listen. The way you grabbed his hand with your shaking ones was unintentionally parallel to the way he gripped yours before he passed out the first time you met.

He spared you a glance, without any trace of compassion. “That's what I told you too when I was in your place, but you didn't listen.”

“The circumstances are different!”

“How so?”

You avoided his question as you pulled his hand close and you touched your own face and neck with his large hand.

"The fuck are you doing?!"

His fingers coiled as he tried to avoid touching your skin and retrieved his hand before you can even bring it down to your chest—the upper chest, not breasts.

"Direct physical contact and fingerprints. You can't escape me now."

And then he took a moment before he realized what you implied. Now his irritation is growing stronger. “You!” He backed away with a frown. If you die here right now, he'll be set up.

"I'm always one step ahead of everyone. Bring me my duffel bag!”

“No.”

“Please... I really can't go to the hospital.”

“Why not?”

You almost ripped your hair off with vexation. Can he stop with the questions?! People are so fucking annoying!

“Because of my mom! She'll kill me!"

He scoffed. "So you're saying Miss Model Student is scared of her mother finding out about her tendencies of beating people up in deserted alleys?” he snickered, “I wonder why."

“That's none of your business, and you don't know what really happened!”

Vinny knows there must be a reason why. You reached forward and pulled on his fiery red hair lightly. And your brain didn't miss registering how unexpectedly soft his hair was. Your banter was going on fast that it was as if the both of you were just spewing nonsense. You were desperate and he wasn't willing to do anything other than to bring you to a hospital.

“You don't understand… My mother, her co-workers will see me, and they'll tell her I...”

Vinny gaped his mouth pensively. So your mother works in a hospital.

“Well, shouldn't she find out? You're her daughter. She must be worried for you.”

“You clearly don't know how my mother takes things for, especially from me.”

He detected how your mother was clearly an issue, a sore spot to you, like how some things are for him, and he wasn't meaning on rubbing salt on your wound, so he just gave up tried to say something else to divert the topic.

“There's no other option for you but to go to the hospital. Either that or nothing.”

You had a staredown for a few seconds. Before you sighed and gave up. Maybe you'll just think of something to hide the traces of what happened tonight.

“Fine. But you'll accompany me.”

“What? No!”

“Yes, you will.”

Frustration was visible on his face as he thought, Good heavens, just why am I always surrounded by stubborn people? 

___

You woke up lying on one of the common beds in the E.R. You didn't bother getting a hospital room, so the only thing covering you from the busy environment outside right now were the forest green curtains surrounding the hospital bed.

“You awake?”

Your head panned to your left side. Vinny was standing with crossed arms in the far left corner. Vinny? He's still here? Why didn't he leave?

You felt like shit. He was looking exceptionally blurry tonight. Until you realized you weren't wearing your glasses anymore. You squinted and looked at Vinny again until your eyes adjusted and finally saw him clearly. And only now did you realize that his eyes are two different colors—Heterochromia!

You stumbled up but your knees shook causing you to almost fall down—if you didn't catch yourself in time. You saw how his arm rose and twitched forward a little to catch you, possibly on instinct but still he didn't make enough effort to really catch you, though. It's fine, you can hold yourself up alone. 

“You... You stayed?”

“You told me to, after all.” He side-eyed you to make sure you weren't going to stumble again. “Watch it.”

Vinny only agreed to accompany you to pay you back for saving his life the first time you met. Not about you dealing with the expenses, but you taking it up yourself to stitch someone hands-on. You saw him crossing his arms again in your peripheral vision.

You side-eyed him. “How's your scar? Was it bad?”

“Cut the crap. I didn't ask you to help me in the first place, so I'm not going to thank you.”

Dear. The audacity and arrogance of this man.

Finally, your head turned to him and darted him a sarcastic smile. "Nice to see you still holding up, then. That means I did the sanitation properly. And don't worry, I don't want to hear your expression of gratitude. I don't need to, and I never expected to."

Your conversation was interrupted when the curtain opened. It was an attending doctor to check up on you now that you're conscious. The wound wasn't that deep and because you were taken to the hospital immediately luckily you didn't lose a high volume of blood, but the doctor still recommended you to stay in the hospital for a while. But you know you can't.

When the attending doctor was done checking up on you for the second time—the first one not being a problem because you were conscious when you arrived and you only fell asleep because of the side effects of the anesthesia, Vinny approached you.

“Can I go home now that you're awake?” He sat at the chair near your hospital bed. Upon scanning you and looking at your current state, it's like nothing happened. You didn't even look shook, not one bit.

"A little while more until my mom's co-workers leave, and you can go home. I also need someone to talk to right now.” Curse this hospital for being the nearest one.

He clicked his tongue and begrudgingly leaned back on his seat. Your stomach grumbled a little. You only ate bunggeopangs this whole evening. You haven't had any proper meal.

Upon hearing, a little while later, Vinny fished in his pocket. When he looked up he find your eyes were elsewhere.

“[Y...Y/N].” He was quite hesitant to call you by your name for the first time. He wasn't even sure if he got it right. Your head turned to him and he showed you what he's holding in his hand. It was your Matcha-flavored kit-kats.

Your face lightened up in anticipation. "For me? You shouldn't have!” 

He handed you your duffel bag too. “They found those in your pocket in the operating room.”

"Right, I totally forgot about that. Pass it here.”

He tossed the matcha kit-kats to you. You offered him some but he refused. While you were busy eating for comfort, he kept staring at the side of your face.

“If you have something to ask, go on.” You told him without looking in his direction.

“Where did you learn to stitch wounds? Are you a serial killer or something?”

You contained your laugh. Serial killer.

“That was a temporary stitch. It's not exactly meant to hold up there for long.”

"I'm not that level of an idiot. I looked at it. And I know a clean stitch when I see one. I know that's not your first time. What are you hiding?”

You appreciated the subtle implication in the comment he made on the quality of your stitches—which you took as a positive feedback.

“I told you the first time. Volunteer work in hospitals.”

He raised his eyebrows in doubt. You rolled your eyes, hiding your smirk as you tried to be serious. This dubious grouch is surely getting on your nerves. “What? Do you think I stick needles on people for fun?”

His lips agape. He really can't believe the bizarre thing coming out of your unfiltered mouth. Maybe the anesthesia was making your mouth more unfiltered.

“You have an odd sense of humor.”

"You're just unfunny.”

"How did you know my name? I don't remember telling you.” because you left before he woke up the first time you met.

“Oh, right. Truth is, I heard from you again because of Minu.”

“Minu… You know him?” Vinny's eyes darkened, waiting for you to elaborate about your connection with Minu. Bingo.

“He's my schoolmate. Where did you go off to? They said you weren't home earlier. They tried to call you from outside your house.”

Vinny remembered ignoring Sung's texts of "Where are you right now? Someone's here to see you." that were only marked delivered. He finally pieced everything together. Sung's text, Minu coming to his house. It means Minu's the one who came to his house with Sung to see him earlier.

“Why did they come to see me?” 

You swallowed the kit-kat you were chewing before answering, “From what Minu told me, Sung came to our school personally to ask help for your personal conflict.”

“So you learned about my screwed up life?” Sung Kwon, that little shit. he thought.

“Think what you want to think. But I'm not here to comment about your life.” You answered. He sat in silence after that.

“Join the biking crew.” You directly looked into his hetero-colored eyes.

His mouth slightly agape. He knew exactly what you were talking about, and it's not as if he's going to pretend not to.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

He looked annoyed. He rolled his eyes. The way his reactions were just what you're expecting out of him is entertaining. “I'm leaving.”

“Don't. I still need your help.”

“I doubt you do. With the way you're annoying me, I think you have just enough energy to hold yourself up.”

“Just listen, they're lacking a member. Minu's biking crew needs you.” And you need the biking crew, you wanted to add.

“Why don't you join?”

You sighed. This again?

"I have a lot of responsibilities weighing on my shoulders right now. The pressure's not getting any lighter.”

His expression changed a little. Like he was holding himself back from saying something.

“What?” Your brows furrowed.

“Nothing. I just thought the Model Student dub was a joke.” He only called you that to poke fun at you, but he didn't know you were actually suffering from it. Had he known, he wouldn't have had.

“Oh, you're being empathetic now? You're really good at swinging between moods.”

He rolled his eyes, look who's talking. “Sure. Should I learn to stitch people too so I can be more similar to you?”

"You seem to have a lingering attachment to my stitches. Do you want me to open up that stab wound of yours and stitch it up again?”

He grimaced in distaste. “Attachment? Barf.” 

Just as he was bantering with you, as much as he doesn't want to admit, your enigmatic personality is quite amusing and foreign to himself-claimed dullness. It's crazy how you can manage to make him respond even if he doesn't want to anymore.

“I'll pay you back for the hospital settlement you paid last time.”

“Don't bother. It wasn't my money anyway.” It was, but you couldn't possibly care about money.

“Doesn't matter. I'll still pay you back in some way.”

“You just did tonight. When you brought me here. That's enough payment.” you opened another packet of a matcha kit-kat. 

Your eyes caught the dried bloodstains on your shirt. You then reached inside of your duffel bag. Your clothes were still inside, the clothes you packed sure came in handy. Now all you have to do is change your clothes.

“Hey, can you please turn around?” You turned to Vinny whose attention was somewhere else. 

"No." He had enough of your teasing and you might be plotting another one of your schemes. He won't fall for your tricks again.

“Fine, if you say so.” You started to lift the ends of your ripped, blood-stained uniform top, revealing your bare skin.

"The hell!" Vinny quickly looked away and turned around when he realized what you're about to do. You wouldn't actually flash your chest to him you did it to annoy him.

“I have to change. My roommate will freak out if she sees the blood on my clothes. Don't look until I say it's cool, and make sure no one opens the curtain.”

You told him he can turn around when you did finish changing. He faced you but he was still awkwardly avoiding you with his eyes. You shook your head at his awkwardness. Is this really the man who beat Dom's ass up?

“I'm fully clothed now. Don't let your mind fly anywhere else. I was only messing with you.” you scrunch your face.

He couldn't hide his annoyed expression, “Well, you really should stop.”

“Okay.”

You both fell silent. It came to his mind how he was supposed to be fuming about his unfortunate life, but somehow, he forgot how fucked up his life was for a second, and the only thing he cared about right now is to reciprocate your ridiculing. Really, how can you do that?

"...You're annoying." Vinny crumpled the side of his lips snarkily as he opened his mouth again after a while.

"No, you're annoying." 

"The anesthesia must be seeping in your brain right now. I didn't know it makes people insane as a side effect.” 

You nodded sarcastically. “Yeah, yeah. Because of your attitude, it makes me regret not twisting that knife that night when I had the chance.”

“You know what? I really should be going home now.”

“Wait.” You stood up slowly and pushed the curtain a little to take a peek outside. Your parents' co-workers are gone. Finally. “They're gone. You can go. Thanks for your company, Vinny Hong.”

“Sure.” He checked if he forgot anything before he opened the curtain. 

“Oh, and before you go,” He glanced back at you, waiting for what you'll follow.

You tossed him a keychain—A cat wearing a tomato hat meme.

“About joining the crew, you should give it a thought. And that...” you pointed at the tomato cat that resembles him, “...that's the only trinket of mine I could give you as a token of gratitude. I made that myself, it's hard resin.” He averted his eyes and looked down for a seconds as if he was contemplating. After a few seconds, he closed his palm, enclosing the keychain inside his hand as he looked back up to you.

“Goodbye.”

You were left standing there as you watched as he stepped out of the hospital. Without your realization, your expression turned back to being blank. It was as if it only sunk in now that you're alone again—something you didn't feel when he was there.

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2023, don't forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

[nastyjaeger]

"Amor mi culo, no tengo tiempo para citas"

𝙗𝙮: 𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙚𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙖𝙣