#this is literally the first thing i think of when someone says phineas and ferb

[myreygn]

there was this one phineas and ferb episode which i don't even remember the actual story of but in the c plot candace and some other girl got jobs at mr slushidog. and ofc candace wanted to impress jeremy but this other girl was just better than her at literally everything and she'd make fun of candace and call her a snail because she was so slow and candace told her she was even slower but she couldn't come up with a good comparison and they kind of dropped the topic. and then by the very end of the episode candace (out of NOWHERE) goes "hah, starfish! they're slower than snails!" and jeremy and the girl just kinda. stare at her for a moment and then the girl goes "oh wow you're so quick" and it's one of my FAVORITE jokes from the show and NO ONE talks about it

[wherevenusholdssomeofficespace]

Can I just say the storyboards for Step Into the Great Unknown highlight even further what the song itself was already highlighting. Because the song is basically just each member of the gang one by one deciding to commit to finding Candace.

It starts with Phineas, he's been Candace's little brother literally his whole life. We see the most of their relationship. There is very little that fazes him, and he wears his heart on his sleeve. He adores his older sister and would go to the ends of the earth without hesitating for her. He's an inspirational type of leader, so he tends to be the one to provide the gang direction and encouragement when they start showing doubts and that's exactly what he does here. The one who kind of lays out the situation to the gang but also is the first to affirm he's going anyway.

And then Ferb. He's been Candace's little brother for years now too at this point, and of course he stands by Phineas for most things. But this movie does show that Ferb cares just as much about Candace in his own way, with what he chooses to say and the affection Candace gives him. He's a man of action so he demonstrates his position by quietly joining in the dance. And Ferb is almost always on Phineas's side, but while Phineas is defined by being completely unfazed by nearly everything, Ferb DOES get fazed by more than Phineas, though less than the rest of the gang. He's generally cautious about supernatural threats as such, so unknown threats would be something that are more likely to give him pause even if they aren't supernatural per se, and we've seen him avoid Candace before due to this aversion. But aside from that aversion he is usually as unfazed as Phineas. Of course he wouldn't leave either of his siblings hanging.

And then Isabella joins in the song. The girl across the street. Who has also known Candace for a long time. Literally future sister-in-laws, but already basically sisters. Isabella and Candace sort of have a relationship built on mutual understanding. They occasionally talk together about crushes, and team up when a situation is gender specific. Candace is one of Isabella's fireside girls. Of course Isabella would join. She's said no to Phineas about dangerous things before, but only rarely. When someone they care about is on the line, there's no way. She's as tough and doesn't hesitate to put herself in danger unless there is literally no reason to. Candace is more than enough reason to. For this she'll follow Phineas to the end of the universe, and take the lead if she has to.

Buford and Baljeet are the last to join. They've only been part of the gang since this summer. So they're the most hesitant. And I do think when it comes to personal safety they are a bit more sensitive (see Buford freaking out NOTLP, Baljeet being paralyzed by indecision in Primal Perry, Buford freaking out about Baljeet's safety in the Beak... those two are the most prone to panic in general). But when push comes to shove on something as important as saving the tri-state area, or rescuing Candace, they're in on it too. They don't really WANT to deal with all this scary stuff... but to them the alternative of not going along isn't an option either.

All of these kids love Candace so much. She may be obsessed with getting her brothers caught, but in the process she's become big sister to all 5 of them. I've said it before I'll say it again. I LOVE the sense of community in the series.

And it's so uncommon for the kids to be nervous about something. So the fact that they are nervous does help raise the stakes a bit. And Phineas has to muster all of his leadership to say hey: This will be scary, you don't have to come but I can't just leave her. And the other kids going. Yeah well. Not without us.

They just all care about each other so much.

[humanperryfic]

i'm coming here from perryverse and just like. how do I get as good at writing as you are? what's your secret?

Awww thank you! Crazy that you're saying that since I think I've actually improved a lot since writing that fic.

Obviously the number one answer I have is going to be to just write, a lot. I got good as fast as I did because I bingewatched Phineas and Ferb in the first three days of the original Covid lockdown in March 2020, and then wrote a ton of fic because I was lucky to just be insanely bored.

So write. Write a lot. Write when you can. Slap it all out there on the internet. See what sticks.

Answer number two is going to be read, a lot. But not just passively. Read great fanfiction. Ask yourself why it's great. Read terrible fanfiction. Ask yourself why you hate it. Read real books. Ask yourself about what's going on that you like or don't like, especially between the two mediums of print and fic (because they are different! Also, "real" books tend to use a broader variety of vocabulary, which is always good). Read fic written by people who write English as a second, third, fourth+ language (assuming you're a native english speaker). Ask yourself why you would write/rewrite things to flow a certain way.

Read with an eye for things you want to do yourself.

Answer number three? Always have a little bit of outside perspectives and advice coming into your mind. The best way I've found to keep learning at this point is following people that give advice on writing particular characters or things. @cripplecharacters, @writingwithcolor, and @howtofightwrite are some of my favorite blogs to read whenever they post, and they have invaluable advice.

You're never too good of a writer to not learn new things or unlearn biases/misconceptions.

Answer number four is to keep things rotating in your mind. Not always at the front. But somewhere back there. Keep a running list of ideas on your phone or whatever somewhere I have a Discord server that's literally just me, where I keep my ideas for various things sorted, as well as a Noteful notebook for just...random ideas and plotting things out.

You never know what kind of random idea could be your most interesting fic idea.

Answer number five: Don't throw out any of your writing. Keep things around in whatever form you write in. Microsoft Word, Google Drive, whatever. Keep things around, even if they suck and all you wrote is a sentence and a half. You never know what you might come back to...and hey, keeping the old stuff is a great way to look back and see how far you've come.

Every scrap of writing tells a story. Keep it.

Answer number six: With that in mind, do try out writing an entire fic, plot bunny to published, in the AO3 editor at least once. You have to finish it in the month timespan. You have to publish it. It's a challenge, best suited for a shorter oneshot (though I've done it with fics up to 16.5k words lol), but it'll tell you something about how you write.

(If you fall short, copy/paste it all into a separate document and finish it. Don't waste your work.)

Answer seven: Plot brackets. Plot your fic out by writing the very very basics of what you want to happen in square brackets (ex. [perry goes home] [candace teases him about having a crush on someone]). Fill it in in whatever order you want. Make the brackets short and sweet. Use meme references. Or whatever. Make them stupid. Whatever gets the plot and vibes out onto the page.

[insert summarizing quip here]

Answer eight (the random stuff that I can't do a whole paragraph on each): Onelook Reverse Thesaurus. Lifechanger. When you can, write with your internet/cell service turned all the way off so you don't fall into a research/distraction rabbit hole. Try to write ten words every single day. Take a look at TVTropes every so often- Tropes are Tools, and you should know what's in your toolbox. Write about things you're obsessed with. Write the bad stuff. Write the dumb ideas. Write for the fandom with ten fics.

It doesn't matter. Just write it.

[emeraldspiral]

So on Twitter I remember a while ago someone posed the question who would win the science fair between Dib Membrane, Dexter or Mandark from Dexter's Lab, Jimmy Neutron, Numbah 2 from KND, or Phineas and Ferb and I think most people agreed that Dib would be the biggest loser out of all of them.

And I don't know if anybody knew this cause I didn't see anyone bring it up, and I didn't know the first time I saw it circulating, but in the comics Dib actually does lose a science competition, but not for the reasons you'd think. Like, I think everyone was saying Zim would sabotage him or he'd sabotage himself by letting Zim distract him or something would just go wrong for him because of bad luck. I don't know that anybody was actually arguing that he's not as smart or that anything he invents is as prone to oversight as the stuff Jimmy or Dexter make. But what actually gets Dib in the comics is just cracking under pressure. Unlike when he's dealing with Zim, he doesn't have a specific goal to focus on with what he's making. The competition is just to make a product that a corporation could make a lot of money off of (without compensating the creator). So with carte blanche to make anything he wants he just can't come up with anything and ends up spending all night putting a bunch of stuff together with no purpose other than to be more impressive than whatever Zim's making and forgets what it was even supposed to do when it's time to give his presentation. Meanwhile GIR wins by sticking a face on a hotdog.

Dib is literally this meme:

But IDK, I kinda love that that's the thing that got Dib instead of Zim sabotaging him or something going wrong with the invention because it's so real. Like, I wonder if the writer of that issue wasn't thinking of all the times they've stared at a blank document for hours not knowing what to do with an open-ended creative assignment, because that's definitely a feel I've had and I know a lot of other writers and artists deal with too.

[taniushka12]

tagged by @autisticwriterblog!!! thank you, 🤗🤗💞💞

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

on ao3 just 79! been posting there since 2015 but im a busy bee u_u

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

177103 😌

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The most I've written for in the past decade are Haikyuu -> Wolf359 -> Tma -> Alwake

4. Top five fics by kudos

Antropofagia (147) the one and only jon/martin ive ever written where web!martin eats a guy and then ponders about his humanity w/ his boyfriend

Lipstick Stains (143) Jon/Tim/Sasha fluff ♥

The dance of the spider and the flame (126) web!martin/desolation!tim fluff (pseudo fluff? its fluffy to Me) w/ a side of meta

Ridiculous monster man (118) Jon/Tim angst 😔

Un hombro en el cual dormir (86) Tsukki/Yama fluff ♥

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! sometimes it takes me a Considerate amount of time but I always leave them unread until I get to do it ;o;

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

sticking to remedy (for this and the next question) id say Clouds of pink and storm, where Alice experiences the final reunion w/ Alan in aw:an but then wakes up, assuming it was merely a dream and that he's still dead ;_;

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hypothermia where Alan gets out of the dark place and can finally sleep in peace surrounded by the people he loves ♥♥♥

8. Do you get hate on fics?

one (1) time in my first tma fic, but I just deleted it and moved on ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (joke on them bc that Is my most popular fic lmfao)

9. Do you write smut?

sometimes. I hate writing it almost as much as I like thinking abt it, which puts me on a difficult position 😔

10. Craziest crossover?

😶 do not have one..

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i translated many of my hq and w359 fics from spanish to english, if that counts!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! im pretty protective of my stories... although I lowkey wanna try it sometime, making aus and stories with people is Fun ;o;

14. All time favourite ship?

ALL TIME FAVORITE is hard, but as of Right Now its alan/alice/barry and any permutation of those three ♥ i love them ;o;

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the hannibalesque au... a martin/elias fic that was supposed to be my tma magnus opus, last time i opened it it was pushing 20k and quite literally only needed two scenes to be complete, but also thinking abt tma always puts me on such a sour mood and, while i love the ship, i couldn't care less about elias himself,,, still love the fic but god getting into the mindset to write it is hard to say the least Q_Q

16. What are your writing strengths?

id like to think characterization! and dialogue 🥰

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

larger plot...? thinking around specific scenes i wanna write sometimes gets tedious so i prefer writing snippets of stuff :/ also staying motivated on the thing 😔

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

if done right it can add flavor to the story! but its a hit or miss and when it misses it can be soooooo so bad Q_Q i dont believe you Need beta reads for fics but in this case you Gotta have someone that speaks the language available, and Please dont just translate words at random

19. First fandom you wrote in?

phineas & ferb :') still got some one shots printed somewhere in my room lmao

20. Favorite fic you've written?

oof. hard to say. but I'll go with:

Desperately Safe (tma, peter/salesa) what if a charismatic yet highly paranoid man and the misanthropic heir of the lonely found refuge in each other? and they were both sailors?

Recognition Through Fear (tma, martin/annabelle) in which the resident "spider monster" lady who was formerly arachnophobic shows signs that she never Actually stopped being scared of them, and the resident "fear buffet" guy who hates her guts (yet loves spiders) tries to make her life just a little bit easier by carefully picking the spiders integrated to her skull. a small moment of kindness in an otherwise unkind world u_u

Hypothermia (alwake, alan/alice/barry) you know that one 😉

tagging: @lostinthewoodsomewhere, @wolf-three-fifty-nine, @florallychaotic and @ilkkawhat 🤗

[phineasandferbtheories]

Candace and Ferb bonding/fluff headcanons, please? We never really got to see that sibling relationship due to Ferb being treated like a 2nd banana, and I really wish we could have.

Of course, I love them!

Now, for a while they just viewed each other as “Phineas’s brother” and “Phineas’s sister”

That sounds weird, all things considering, but looking at the dynamic between Phineas and Ferb? That’s a hard thing to get in on. And I doubt Ferb’s all that great at approaching people.

Even so, they obviously care about each other. Some of Ferb’s favorite projects are the ones he does for Candace and Candace often views Ferb as the lesser of two evils between him and Phineas

But, even so, it takes a while for them to get close

And when they do? It’s through one very specific avenue.

Gossip. They like gossiping with each other.

At first, it’s about Isabella and Phineas because, well, it’s an easy target. Very easy.

But it kind of spirals from there.

And it’s never really either of them talking about their own love interests or issues with whoever.

It’s literally just them talking about other people. Cause I personally like the idea that Ferb has a hard time talking about himself.

And it’s not even mean spirited! Most of them time!

And sometimes they’ll rope whoever into it (examples include: Stacy, Vanessa, and Isabella).

However, they’re… very hard to follow.

It’s not even (just) that they have a shit ton of inside jokes, they just… forget to finish explaining and let everyone else catch up.

Because both of them are very smart. And they’ve spent enough time together to know EXACTLY how much they need to say in order to communicate a point properly to each other.

And everyone I’ve mentioned is also smart, but both Candace and Ferb have their own… brand of intelligence.

And they both happen to not quite understand each other’s but are able to accommodate it.

Something that’s… really hard. And even harder to actually explain to someone besides the two of them.

But eventually, they start talking about more “intellectual” things.

Candace will talk lawyer (I’m sorry, I don’t know what to call it. If I say talk law, she sounds like a cop) and Ferb will talk… whatever, honestly. He knows too much about too many things.

Oh yeah, and also whatever show/book series/movie that’s caught their interest.

Ferb knows a LOT about Ducky Momo. Candace knows a lot about the pnf version of Star Wars and LOTR (I forgot the names and it’s funnier to call it this <3)

Just. They have the type of relationship where if someone asks what the other’s favorite color is, they’ll just look on blankly, while being able to explain every single plot hole of every single episode of whatever the other’s favorite show is.

And personally, I think that’s probably the best kind of relationship you can have with someone.

[lexosaurus]

Ok, I'm pretty new to the phandom, and I'm still figuring out Wes, but is he basically Candice from Phineas and Ferb? Like, he knows what's going on but he can't get anyone to believe him?

Yeah that’s actually a great comparison!

Wes has been around the Phandom for years, and if you stumble across old fics/posts you might be a bit confused because his role has changed quite a bit.

When he was first made, it was due to the fact that he obvi looks like a red-haired version of Danny. Because he is shown to have some athletic prowess and he has green eyes, and since Danny’s not at all subtle about Phantom, the concept was that people would figure out that Phantom is a half ghost, and they’d think Wes was the human. Wes was the only person who knew that Danny was Phantom, and he desperately tried to clear his name by outing Danny so people would leave him alone. But since Danny’s a geek who fails gym class, nobody believed that someone as cool as Phantom could possibly be Fenton. Also, what sort of idiot would Danny Fenton have to be to name his ghost half Danny Phantom, aka so obviously his real name?

So that was the original concept for Wes. However, his role in the phandom’s changed a bit from then. Nowadays he’s seen as someone who knows Danny is Phantom and wants to out him...just because. Nobody believes Wes because A) Wes sucks at getting proof, the trio knows Wes is onto them, they always foil Wes’ plans if he doesn’t mess them up himself first, and B) Wes is regarded as the crazy town conspiracy theorist. Even when he does get proof (say a photo or something), everyone thinks it’s just some impressive photoshop. Danny is also seen not taking Wes seriously, and will go so far as to literally look Wes dead in the eyes and transform right in front of him because “Nobody will believe you.”

Originally, the interpretation for Wes’ family was that his father worked for Vladco, directly under Vlad as like his right-hand-man, and he actually knew that Vlad was Plasmius. Outing Danny as Phantom would put Vlad at risk, so he perpetuates that Wes as crazy and tries to stop his antics to protect his boss.

Now, the interpretation for Wes’ family has changed. People don’t really talk about his parents much, but oh boy do they talk about his brothers. Today, Wes is most commonly given usually a twin brother named Kyle who is a direct foil to Wes. He’s a laid back stoner and he does not believe in ghosts at all. Like, at all. He always has some explanation, like it’s impressive CGI, the town’s doing this for tourism, etc. Skulker could be right in front of him and he’d go “sick costume, bro” and walk away. Less common, but still seen, Wes is given an older brother named Easton. He’s kinda the stereotypical responsible and smart eldest child. Tbh I don’t know much else about him.

So that’s pretty much Wes’s evolution. He’s just a phandom OC, so no one interpretation is correct or wrong. It’s really whatever the hell you want. Sometimes people like to ship him with Danny, sometimes people like to make him succeed, sometimes people like to make Kyle and Danny friends and Wes has to begrudgingly tag along. Whatever your interpretation is, it’s good!

Hopefully that clears things up. Take care!

[rosesmith18]

(PnF) This Needs to be Said

I know this seems a bit random as I haven't post anything in awhile, but I wanted to speak on three specific topics, because they've been bothering me. I want to first say that no one has made any of the following comments directly towards me or my writing, but I still feel these things need to be said.*Disclaimer: I request anyone reading this post to hear me out before leaving a comment or turning away as these topics are serious. The Canonical Ferbnessa is NOT pedophilia: I'm not talking about all Ferbnessa stories hear just the canonical one presented in Act Your Age. I see people saying this is wrong cause it's pedophilia, and as a victim of pedophilia I can confidently say it is NOT. Is it grooming on some level? Depends on how you view their relationship before this episode, but assuming it might be is completely reasonable. But, on a completely factual level their is nothing pedophilic about this relationship. They get together when Ferb is 18 and graduated high school. Whether their age gap personally bothers you or not doesn't change the fact that Ferb, at this point, is a consenting adult and can date whoever he wants. Even if he was 16, in some states he'd still be legally allowed to date Vanessa, just not do anything sexual with her. If you have a loved one who is 16 or 18 who is in a relationship with an adult who knew them as a child, it is completely reasonable to feel uncomfortable and be concerned. You can take your kid to/suggest therapy, relationship counseling, or waiting till after high school/college, but you can NOT make the choice for them.

Thomarie is NOT incest: If you know what 'Thomarie' is then you get where this claim comes from, and it is a completely unreasonable claim. Baseline; Thomas and Marie are NOT blood related, because Phineas and Ferb are NOT blood related. Incest is illegal, because any children coming from those relationships would have basically no chance at life due to close genes. Thomas and Marie don't actually share any genes, so they could have completely viable offspring. And, for those saying; "But, Phineas and Ferb feel like brothers." So what? People feel like siblings to their friends all the time, it doesn't suddenly make them related, or make their children feel related. Secondly, to the statement; "Saying Phineas and Ferb aren't really related ruins the whole message of the show." No it doesn't. The whole message of Phineas and Ferb is right in the final song of 'Candace Against the Universe'; Us Against the Universe, 'I'm not just talkin' blood relation.' It is literally a summary of the shows entire message, which is NOT; 'If you feel related to someone you are related.' The message of the show IS; 'No matter WHAT relationship you have with some one(be it sibling, friend, romantic partner), it is a choice you make. You CHOOSE the people you care about, your blood ties or lack there of, don't/shouldn't do it for you.' And, by that logic. Thomas and Marie's relationship doesn't go against the shows message, it is instead, a PERFECT example of the shows message. It shows that no matter what your ties to someone are whether by blood or by paper, you can feel differently about anyone and everyone, attachment is not a one size fits all.

These characters are FICTIONAL: Whether Ferbnessa is pedophilia in some peoples stories, or if Thomarie is incest, at the end of the day they are fictional characters. Pedophilia and Incest is illegal, because they have a victim. All laws exist to protect a possible victim; Not to cater to your personal opinions. And, fictional characters are not real people(obviously), and because of this, there is no REAL victim in these relationships. For those saying; "It could effect the children who read these stories; They are about characters from/inspired by a kids show." Stories/Pictures have rating for a reason, they have tags for a reason, fanfiction/fanart sites have rules for a reason. If a child finds a way to stumble upon these fanfictions/pictures despite the sights rules/rating then that's not the site/writer/drawers fault, they didn't intend for it to happen. Porn sites are just as easily accessible and you can't take THEM to court when a child discovers them. And, secondly, so what if these characters are from/inspired by a kids show? A lot of people who write/draw these characters in pedophilic/incestuous/sexual ways are those kids themselves expressing themselves and exploring their sexualities with characters they are familiar/comfortable with. I started to write/read sexual things about these characters when I was nine, and have been to this day(I'm not even in my twenties yet). Don't bash kids for expressing/exploring themselves in safe ways, they have to do it eventually. And, don't bash adults who find comfort in expressing/exploring themselves with these characters, they likely grew up doing so. The Main Reason for this Post: The people saying this stuff are hurting REAL people way more than this stuff would be if it were true. First off, judging people who are 18 for dating someone quite a bit older than them is treating them like a child. Whether you feel they are ready for a relationship like that or not is no longer your choice to make. At 18 a person becomes an adult, and they can't get used to adulthood when people are still telling them that they have all the rights and mental capacity of a child. Secondly, there are people who are in romantic relationships with their step-sibling/step-cousins/kids they grew up with, and people calling these relationships gross is impinging on their rights. No one has a right to tell a person who to date when that relationship isn't hurting anyone, and I don't see how two teenagers with no blood relation, who are in the same age rang, who both can and do consent to the relationship could be hurting each other. In summary, for those who make these comments; STOP THINKING YOUR FEELINGS AND OPINIONS ARE ABOVE THE FEELINGS AND OPINIONS OF OTHERS WHEN THE LAW IS FOR PROTECTING THE PHYSICAL AND MENTAL WELL-BEING OF ALL PEOPLE, AND NOT THE FEELINGS AND OPINIONS OF THE INDIVIDUAL. The law can not pick a side in every debate, so it only picks sides when physical and mental pain is expressed, we as people have to deal with our on feeling and opinions. It isn't against the law to feel different then someone else, but it is against the law to physically/verbally harm others for feeling different than you. I want to make it clear that I am not forcing anyone to be comfortable with pedophilia/incest(in writing) or even relationships where someone is way older, or where the people in question are in a way, other than blood, related. I am simply telling those people to recognize that those are their opinions and their opinions are hurting even people they may be trying to 'help'. So, thank you for those who listened to my entire rant, and especially to those who learned something from it! If you wish to have a constructive conversation on any of the topics mentioned than I would be more than willing to listen and have a friendly debate with you, but I will not dignify simple hate with a response. Have a lovely day, evening, or night! *Ferb and Vanessa belong to Dan Povenmire & Jeff 'Swampy' Marsh *Thomas belongs to Melty64 *Marie belongs to angelus19 & sam-ely-ember

[hardskz]

a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands. 

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself.  “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.  

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut. 

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

What're some of your favorite moments between Doof and Perry during Phineas and Ferb?

You have absolutely no idea how fucking long I spent making this video fhdsjahkjaf I’m gonna gush under the cut about why I liked each one so y’all don’t have to deal with me if you don’t want to lol

These are in no particular order. They’re just numbered to line up with the reasoning. I added lil descriptions to each of them but you’ll probably have to either watch the video first or have a pretty good memory of the show to understand them lol

1. “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?” (A Hard Day’s Knight)

Literally just the way he says, “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?”

2. “Is every platypus named Perry?” and then Perry bites him (AT2D)

M O N C H (also Heinz calls him cute) (also also “We do not bite the elderly!”)

3. Perry tries to fly him and Heinz home from the desert but Heinz flips the turbo switch and they lose the jetpack (Road to Danville)

“Like you didn’t know about my switch-flipping compulsion!” They’re literally an old married couple omfg I can’t even (also moment of appreciation for the fact that they’re close enough that Heinz just assumes Perry knows about his switch-flipping compulsion) (another moment of appreciation because Perry probably does)

4. The end of the Perry/Doof subplot of Terrifying Tri-State Trilogy of Terror

First of all, the way Perry decides to run under his giant floating head when going around would take two extra seconds? Beautiful. And, of course, Perry’s fucking smirk because that’s just not his problem lmaooo

5. The pause in the FIGHT FIGHT IT’S A PLATYPUS FIGHT (Doofapus)

I love that they literally just stop mid-fight to have tea. I firmly believe there is no other pair of nemeses that would do that and this is just how Heinz and Perry work. Also, Perry’s smile? He feels so understood? It’s so pure?

6. Vanessa lets Perry in before he can break down the door with his rocket launcher and then Perry accidentally shoots it through the wall (My Sweet Ride)

“This is why I can never have anything nice -_-”

7. Heinz doesn’t trap Perry (Road to Danville)

He’s so confused fjdahfksdhfak he literally goes out of his way to get trapped at that point (even if he pretends he doesn’t) and Heinz flipped the script on him without telling him and his lil shrug is so cute and I just jsfhkjadhsk

8. There’s a Platypus Controlling Me (Brain Drain)

You had to know this one was gonna be there

9. “In your letters, you said your nemesis was a suave, semi-aquatic personification of unstoppable dynamic fury” (Oil on Candace)

The fact that Heinz sent his ex-professor a letter gushing about his nemesis is just *chef’s kiss*

10. Perry and Dennis are fighting in giant puppets in the street and Heinz recognizes Perry piloting the puppet because of his fighting style (The Return of the Rogue Rabbit)

I’m pretty sure this is the only time Heinz ever recognizes Perry without his hat on (correct me if I’m wrong tho) and the fact that it’s literally just because Perry punched the fuckin camera kills me every time

11. Heinz is worried they won’t make his play in time so Perry tells him to flip the turbo switch (Road to Danville)

Perry just trusts him so much??? Flipping the switch was what got them into that mess in the first place??? But Perry cares so much about Heinz making his LOVEMUFFIN play that he’s willing to give it another go??? I love it???

12. DANCE BABY DANCE BABY HANDS IN THE AIR (Candace Disconnected)

I feel like we don’t get to see Perry just kinda hanging out like that a lot. He’s always doing that steely glare, even when they’re having fun. I don’t think Perry really realizes how emotionless he can look sometimes (the beginning and end of Sidetracked are from Perry’s POV especially at the end, the way he acts with the boys shows too much character for a secret agent, so even though he seems to think it’s obvious that he’s all lovey dovey with them, he does much too good a job at hiding his emotions) but it’s nice to see him drop the facade every now and then

13. Heinz calls Monogram because Perry hasn’t shown up (Perry the Actorpus)

I know Perry’s not technically in this one but I love that Heinz a) calls OWCA when Perry doesn’t show up and b) looks so nervous as he calls OWCA because Perry hasn’t shown up

14. Perry brings Heinz a glass of water (Road to Danville)

Half this episode is just them being mad at each other because they blame the other one for sticking them in the desert with way home, and I love that even though Perry’s been fuming pretty much the entire time, the second Heinz actually starts yelling at him, he’s immediately hit with a wave of guilt (also I love that he somehow found a glass of water in the middle of the desert?)

15. “YOU PEED ON MY COUCH!” (AT2D)

Not gonna lie, I mostly picked this one for shits and giggles BUT that doesn’t mean I can’t overanalyze it because that’s what I do best. Perry’s whole role in the show is to tie together the two completely unrelated plots, and that’s only so entertaining because not only does neither side know the other, but neither side knows what version of Perry the other side knows. This is the first time Heinz has really connected mindless pet Perry with Agent P Perry, and I feel like that was the most interesting part of the movie was that Phineas, Ferb, Candace, and Heinz all saw a side of Perry they didn’t know. 

16. Heinz invites Perry out for lunch (The Quietest Day Ever)

Heinz doesn’t even know he got hit with the de-handsome-inator. He literally just thinks he lost, and his immediate reaction is to ask if Perry wants to hang out. I just love those lil insights into their relationship when they’re not fighting. Also, perry.exe has stopped working.

17. Honestly just all of Father’s Day

I hate knowing that chronologically, Father’s Day had to happen probably less than halfway through the summer and not towards the end like it does in the episode order. It’s such a sweet turning point in their relationship. Perry’s head all these horrible backstories about Mr. Doofenshmirtz and I can only assume he hates the guy, but he’s still so supportive of Heinz trying to win his approval -- and he’s supportive when that fails and Heinz needs someone to lean on.

18. Perry Lays An Egg

T H W A R T   M E   P E R R Y   T H E   P L A T Y P U S 

19. Heinz proving he knows how to shut the fuck up by refusing to shut the fuck up (Road to Danville)

Perry’s literally about to fight a bitch and I can’t blame him. I also like the lil look into Heinz’s thoughts with the “it’s not like I have to fill the space” line because it really explains a lot about him.

20. Perry waiting for the New Year’s ball to drop and for Heinz to finish his scheme (Happy New Year!)

Once again, a beautiful look at how their entire relationship is based on their routine and knowing what to expect. It wouldn’t be Heinz and Perry if there was not punching and kicking involved. (Also, Perry’s smug face while he waits) (Also also, Perry’s lil shrug)

21. Heinz invites Perry to hang out in his house in the suburbs (Put That Putter Away)

GIVE PERRY A DAY OFF (but for real I love that Heinz literally just asked if he wanted to hang out, AND that he assured Perry that he’d make sure he didn’t get in trouble with Monogram for it)

22. The end of Sidetracked

THEY? HOLD? HAND???

23. “The thing that’s kept me from succeeding all these years is YOU!” *turns finger around* (Road to Danville)

PERRY IS SO DONE WITH HIS SHlT I CAN’T FDJAFHDJLSFHDSAKJ

24. Roger tries to say hi to sleeping Perry (Just Our Luck)

How often does Perry have to fall asleep around Heinz for the guy to know he gets testy when someone wakes him up?

25. The brief New Year’s dance break (Happy New Year!)

THEIR DANCING IS SO FAST AND SO IN SYNC EITHER THEY REHEARSED THIS OR THEY JUST KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL THAT IT JUST HAPPENS NATURALLY AND I WOULD DIE FOR THEM OKAY

26. Perry accidentally became famous for advertising tools and then shows up at DEI (Perry the Actorpus)

He’s so happy to see his nemesis again :,)

27. “You think I’m evil, right?” *finger guns* (Oil on Candace)

Perry is at least partially responsible for how horribly that day went, but that’s his job is to make sure evil scientists don’t impress other evil scientists. You don’t want, like, an evil scientist team up or whatever. But I’m decently sure there’s nothing in the job description that says Perry has to stick around and assure his nemesis that he’s good at being evil, so that’s all Perry’s doing.

28. Perry pulled an all nighter and shows up at DEI asleep and Heinz has to try not to wake him up (Just Our Luck)

The amount of respect it takes for Heinz to see his nemesis sleeping on the job and go out of his way not to wake him up (but to make sure he’s still included, of course; he’s not a disrespectful guy, even if he is evil) warms my heart

29. Perry shows Heinz a bunch of their pictures together (This Is Your Backstory)

a) I love that Perry carries those pictures in his wallet 

b) I love that those pictures exist at all

 c) I love that Heinz has enjoyed his nemesisship with Perry so much that it basically negates every tragic backstory

[jamaiskookie]

Yoongi Doesn’t Romance [myg x reader]

✂︎ warnings: excessive cursing, bad writing

✂︎ word count: 6.6k (I meant to write a very short drabble… aHAHHA)

✂︎ genre: it’s.. literally just crack. Good dosing of cheesy romance and overused cliches

✂︎ A/N: it took awhile but we here!!! with a short drabble but still!!! hope you enjoy this cringey fluffy fic full of shameless jimin and shy yoongi- arguably the best yoongi

masterlist asks

✂︎ synopsis: yoongi isn’t great at expressing feelings- especially with how nervous he gets around you. alternatively titled: yoongi sucks at romance

“... and I don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on denying it! You obviously have a crush on him!” You roll your eyes at Namjoon, flicking your index finger at his forehead and watching as he flinches and lets out multiple sounds of pain, which you promptly ignored. 

“I’m denying my crush because he so obviously doesn’t like me back! He hates me, Joon. He literally detests me.” You say, jumping back onto the stained and cluttered couch that occupies most of you and Namjoon’s shared dorm. 

“And I’m telling you that you’re overthinking it,” Namjoon says, chewing on some popcorn. “I don’t think he hates you, you’re just exaggerating things.”  

“I am not!” You protest, swinging your head around to look Namjoon dead straight in the eyes. “He hates me! He practically leaps out of the room whenever I’m around.” Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by Taehyung, who is currently seated two feet away on a small thrifted chair. 

“Shhhhhhhh-” His eyes are still fixated on the TV screen, watching the random nature documentary playing that you and Namjoon had long ago abandoned. You and Namjoon both watch Taehyung for a second amusedly as he attempts to stuff popcorn kernels in his mouth and completely misses the mark. You’ll have to remind him to clean up the floor later. 

“But,” Namjoon whispers to you, “Literally every time you aren’t around I swear all he can do is run his mouth on and on about you.” 

“Not true!” You yell, squeaking out a quick apology to Tae, who glared at you for interrupting the segment on apes. Something about how apes can learn languages, but you’re not too sure. “Lies!” You hiss, elbowing Namjoon in the rib. 

“Ow-!” He jumps back, wincing. “Why do you always resort to violence?” You didn’t have an answer to that question, unfortunately. “And I’m not lying! I swear on my bonsai trees he always asks where you are whenever you don’t show up to stuff.” 

“Maybe he just wants to know how much glorious time he has left before he has to face me again.” You offer, tearing open what must be your third dorito family pack of the night. (It’s fine, you’ll burn it off by running to class tomorrow when you’re inevitably late once again.) “Namjoon, face the facts: he only tolerates my presence occasionally because we share a couple of mutual friends. If it weren’t for you and the other guys, he would’ve already started a  hate club for me, I’m sure of it”

Namjoon stared at you exasperatedly, before muttering something that very suspiciously sounded like ‘God you’re such a dumbass’ before taking out his phone to swipe through Tinder, not uttering another word to you. 

Despite Namjoon’s utter and complete lies, you don’t exaggerate anything when it comes to Min Yoongi. Not his hatred towards you, or how he speaks two words maximum every year directed at you, or your massive slight crush that you’ve harboured for him, or how cute he looks with beanies on, or how you almost fainted that one time you saw him playing basketball, or- well, you get it. 

The point is, you can’t acknowledge your crush on Yoongi (Even though everyone around you is fully aware of it) because he seems to completely resent you and your existence for no reason in particular. Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin, and many others insist that he doesn’t hate you as much as you think, but you dismiss their stupid assumptions time and time again. You’d love to believe them, but the evidence and first hand experiences you’ve had says otherwise. 

✂︎

Exhibit A: He seems to avoid you on campus, or anywhere you go. This one is actually quite impressive considering the classes you two share. You’ve never seen someone go so out of their way to ignore someone they don’t like. It’s pretty commemorable. Whenever you sit in the same row as him during a lecture, he’ll move seats. One time you waved at him at a coffee shop and he just strangely blushed, and bolted out of there faster than you could say ‘rejected’. Taehyung ended up saying it, all while laughing his ass off. (You made him pay for your coffee that day.) Everytime you head over to Jimin’s dorm, he’ll just blankly stare at you two and march straight towards his room and lock himself in there until you leave. He even gulpes and swerves away when he sees you in a hallway. 

You know, that awkward thing when you’re heading the same direction so obviously you’d try and be slightly friendly and wave or something but then he’ll just suddenly turn around, navigating through the crowd of angry, late students and facing all that social pressure just so he doesn’t have to waVE BACK AT YOU- okay, maybe you aren’t as over this incident as you thought. 

Exhibit B: He won’t speak to you or touch you or interact with you in any way. Okay, maybe ‘in any way’ is a teensy bit exaggerated, but he definitely seems to find trouble when you two are left alone for some strange reason. He seems to be fine when all your other friends are around, but he just looks so uncomfortable when it’s just you two. He won’t look you in the eye, and he’ll just mutter incomprehensible sentences under his breath. 

A couple months ago you attempted to hold a decent conversation with him in the kitchen of Jin’s fancy ass apartment. After many awkward silences that you had to fill up with your timid and boring small talk, he just mumbled something and you had to watch him go into the bathroom and scream. Either he was having some really bad explosive diarrhea, or having to talk to you was just that excruciating. Apart from intense Uno game nights or when he’s under the influence of alcohol, you’ve never even heard Yoongi raise his voice!

How is it possible that just by talking to you, he feels the urge to scream? You aren’t that boring, you think-! Actually, now that you think about it, you did try and bring up sea otter fun facts as a conversation starter, so maybe that’s why he had to scream. 

Personally, you think that sea otters are the most adorable creatures to ever grace the earth, but Yoongi does seem like the kind of guy to prefer bats or something like that. 

Exhibit C: The elbow incident. This haunts you to this day, not just from the horrible humiliation, but if the two previous exhibit’s weren’t convincing enough, this was real cemented evidence that Min Yoongi hates your guts. 

You were talking to Jimin about the significance of ‘Phineas and Ferb’ in the cinematic industry, when your dumbass had tripped and caught yourself on Min Yoongi’s fucking arm (His bicep, on a completely unrelated note, was much bigger and stronger than you had thought, which was a complete other source of anxiety.) You would much rather fall on the ground and break all your bones, because the look on Yoongi’s face as he stared down at you clutching his arm like some sort of idiot, could only be described as disgust or horrified. Maybe both. You immediately let go, of course, and blabbered out apology after apology, but all he did was just stare and blink owlishly at you. 

You proceeded to blush madly and run away, hiding your face in Jimin’s chest, which was, in hindsight, not a good idea, considering how hard he was laughing at the time. (What you didn’t see was Yoongi staring from behind you, deciding to never wash the hoodie he was wearing ever again.) 

So, that concludes your argument against Namjoon’s preposterous claim that ‘Yoongi doesn’t actually hate you Y/n, it’s all in your head’ Delusional, that’s what he is. How could someone like Min Yoongi, a person you have literally been drooling over for most of your academic career, a person who single handedly has every sorority girl wrapped around his finger, even tolerate your very existence, much less be attracted to you? No, none of it makes any sense. You’ll continue to hurt yourself by being around him, despite clearly knowing that he detests your presence, and will even deny the crush you’ve somehow managed to build up for him. 

Because even though it hurts to see him flinch and ignore you, you truly do think that Yoongi is one of the greatest people to ever walk on this shitty earth. He’s caring, even if he does pretend to not care, he’s smart, passionate, ambitious, and you’d be absolutely lying if you said you haven’t dreamed of pinching those squishy cheeks he seems to hide away so often. 

If only you knew why he hated you so much. 

✂︎

All the way across campus, Yoongi was having a similar breakdown while Jimin looked on anxiously. 

“God fucking dammit!” He screamed. The sound comes out slightly muffled since Jimin can only hear what he’s saying through the pillow that Yoongi currently has his face buried in. He kicks his legs up and whines, hitting the bed with his hands. Jimin is suddenly reminded of his 4 year old cousin who threw a tantrum when she didn’t get the doll she asked for. 

“And then you know what I said, Chim?? Do you kNOW?” Yoongi’s been screaming for the past thirty minutes or so. Jimin’s surprised that nobody on campus has come pounding on their door telling them to shut up yet. 

“Please, do enlighten me.” Jimin murmurs, picking at his nails. 

“I said ‘Salutations’ AND THEN I RAN OUT THE FUCKING CLASSROOM.” Yoongi tilts his head up from the pillow and groans, scrunching his nose up at the embarrassing thought.

“At least it’s not as bad as the time you screamed in the middle of the street when she touched your shoulder… right?” Jimin offers timidly, forcing a smile on his face. An angry, sleep deprived Yoongi is already scary enough, but he’s ten times more intense when the source of anger comes from you. 

Honestly, sometimes he wonders how effective it would be if he could just lock Yoongi and you in a room and force you two to admit your feelings for once. (Until he mentioned this idea to Namjoon, who dejectedly informed him that they’ve already tried that.) ((Yoongi broke out of the room using a bobby pin and sheer force of will)) He’s never even seen a pair so smart, and yet so obliviously naive. Anyone with functioning two eyes could see the horribly obvious feelings the both of you shared for each other. In fact, for the first couple months upon meeting Yoongi, he thought that you were his girlfriend, based on how much he talked about you. That assumption carried on when he met you, until Jin told him that the two of you were just in a weird phase of dumbasses who kinda flirt. 

It’s not Yoongi’s fault that he’s so bad at having actual emotions that aren’t the tears of joy that he sheds whenever he gets free coffee from the barista at the local cafe, and it’s not your fault that your self esteem is too low to recognise that Yoongi basically worships you. 

In theory, you two are a match made in heaven. Both just as stupid as the other.

“How do you do feelings, Jimin?” Yoongi sits up from the bed, and Jimin thinks that the tear tracks and defeated look on his face is a tad bit dramatic, but he chooses not to comment on it, for fear of his own life. 

“... what?” 

“You know, feelings. How do you romance?” 

“... what?” 

Yoongi, completely exasperated, throws his hands up in the air and turns around to face Jimin. “Everytime I try to talk to her by myself it’s like I’m a fish out of water. I get way too nervous, and then she starts talking about otters, and she’s way too pretty so I obviously start freaking out! I don’t know, you and Jungkook have been dating for a year now, right?” Jimin nods.

“How’d you do that.”

“... Are you asking me how I got a boyfriend or-? Because I assure you that 85% of getting Kookie to be my boyfriend had to do with my great ass, so I can’t really help you out there- ” Jimin laughs as he watches Yoongi squeal and cover his hands over his ears. 

“Can I ask you for relationship advice without hearing about your sex life, please?” Yoongi pleads. “I know too many unnecessary things about how Jungkook is in bed.” 

Jimin decides to put his friend out of his misery. He places a hand on his shoulder, and shoots him a soft smile. 

“Yoongi, my young grasshopper- ” He retracts the hand when he sees the deathly stare Yoongi is looking at him with, but so far so good, “- there really isn’t much to it. Tell her you like her, and in the very, very, extremely small chance that she rejects you, so what? It’s not like you’re going to spend the rest of your life getting ov- ” Jimin’s voice falters again when Yoongi’s stare intensifies. 

“You don’t get it!” He complains, throwing himself back onto the bed once again. “You’re all good at this sort of stuff!” Jimin tilts his head in confusion. “You know, relationships! Talking to people! And I’m pretty sure Y/n is the love of my life, so I’m literally going to break down if she rejects me! I’m going to cry for days, I already know it!” Yoongi stares up at the ceiling, pouting at nothing in particular. 

“She’s so perfect, smart, nice, caring, funny, strong and incredible. It hurts that she’s never going to like me the way I like her.” 

“You know, Yoongi, if you never talk to her, she’s never going to know you feel that way.”

He sighs and closes his eyes, while it takes all of Jimin’s strength to restrain himself from not throwing Yoongi out of the window. 

Once he’s absolutely sure that Yoongi is fully asleep, he pinches the bridge of his nose and rolls his eyes. After a few quick taps, he brings his phone up to his ear. 

“Guys, I can’t deal with him anymore. We have to do something.” 

✂︎

“I would like to, once again, reiterate that I am 100% against this idea.”

“Shut up, Namjoon.” Namjoon grumbles something about being unappreciated, but continues to speak up.

“It’s a bad idea, Chim. Logically, there’s only a small chance this will work out in our favour, and if it doesn't, I’m at least certain that Yoongi will dislocate all of our limbs until we’re a pile of human flesh.” 

Jimin dismisses the thought. “Yoongi would never do that to us.” 

“Of course he would,” Taehyung piped up. “Do you remember the time he dyed my bright pink because I made fun of Y/n for her stupid heart patterned boots and she cried?” 10 pairs of eyes slowly looked up at Taehyung. 

“Well, that’s justified, we all want to murder you.” Taehyung gasps at Jin, who smiles back at him in return. 

“And also, you were being a huge asshole that day and you totally deserved it. The pink hair didn’t even look that bad.” Tae smiles proudly at Jimin. 

“That’s true, I fucking slayed with that pink hair. I kinda miss it, actually… ” He hums thoughtfully, scratching his chin. Jimin looks away and scoffs. Taehyung’s one of his oldest friends, but sometimes he gets a little too art-kid-college-dropout-hipster for him to handle. 

“Do you guys think I should dye my hair pink again?” Nobody answers his question. 

“Tae might be an absolute douchebag, but he has a point. We all know how protective Yoongi is over Y/n. Are you willing to potentially risk your life if this doesn’t work out?” Curse Namjoon for being logical. Maybe Yoongi killing him is a bit of a stretch, but he would make Jimin’s life a living hell if this operation ended up a failure. 

Nevertheless, he continues to insist. “Okay, what’s the worst that could happen? I physically can’t stand Yoongi stomping around the dorm because he’s emotionally incapable of working out his feelings anymore! Yesterday he fell asleep in my bed. My bed, Namjoon. For such a tiny man, he’s really fucking heavy, I couldn’t move him and had to crash on the couch for the night. If this doesn’t end up working, Yoongi will just go back home and mope around all day long. Nothing different from what he’s doing now.” 

“Um, what’s the worst that could happen?“ Namjoon asks incredulously. “How about if Yoongi finds out we tricked him, invites us to a murder mystery party, but then decides to kill us instead, and covers it up by burying our cold hard, deAD bodies in a highly unhygienic GRAVEYARD? What will you do if that happens, Jimin?“ 

“..........“ 

Nobody says anything to Namjoon, and the boys turn to Jimin once again. Shaking his head, and attempting to ignore... whatever the hell Namjoon just did, Jimin speaks. 

“Oh come on guys!” He shakes his shoulders and lightly taps his foot against the ground. “Aren’t you guys tired of dealing with these two dumbasses too?” A murmur of agreement seems to go around the group, and Jimin breaks into a huge smile. 

“Well, gee,“ Namjoon mumbles sarcastically. “Why don’t you just make a Namjoon Facebook hate group?“ Taehyung shushes him. 

Beside him, Jin and Jungkook are exchanging money, clearly for some kind of bet. What the bet entails, Jimin has no idea, but he doesn’t have the time to question them right now. 

“So, we’re in?” Everyone slowly begins to nod, all except Namjoon. Jimin beams, looking up expectantly at him. Namjoon bites his lip, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Fine.” He grumbles out, not acknowledging Jimin’s shouts of joy. “If this goes wrong though, you bitches better be fucking responsible.” 

“Well, I’m happy you’re all on board, because Hoseok is already here.” Jimin happily smiled up to find Hobi shuffling through the cafe doors, waving enthusiastically at him. He also decides to ignore the collective round of groans and ‘Jimin!’’s that went around the table. 

“Why did you even ask us for our opinions if you already planned this out anyway?” Jungkook hisses, awkwardly smiling at Hoseok.

“Because you guys can never say no to me!” 

“That’s only because of how fucking annoying you are, Chimmy.” Jin moves over in order to let Hoseok sit, even though he doesn’t look overjoyed at having to abandon his favourite seat. 

“Well, all of you look super happy to see me.” Hobi jokes, immediately picking up Namjoon’s milkshake to take a sip. 

“Sorry that you had to get dragged into all this bullshit, Hobi,” Namjoon says, pushing his milkshake towards him and sticking a second straw in the cup. 

“No problem! I love pissing Yoongi off!” The group slowly stares at Hobi, who is still cheerfully sipping at Joon’s milkshake. 

“Well,” Taehyung mutters. “What else do you enjoy doing in your spare time? Drowning yourself in lava?” 

“Taehyung, play nice. Some people are just special. Anyways, here is the plan for Operation: Delusional Idiots Who Need To Make Out.” 

“... Can’t we shorten that?”

“Yeah, seems pretty lengthy.”

“How about Operation: DIWNTMO? Like, pronounced as diwinteemo?”

“That’s… even worse, somehow.”

“Let’s just shorten it to Operation: Delusional Idiots.” 

Six voices, in the middle of the busiest cafe on the school campus, suddenly shout out the words ‘Operation: Delusional Idiots!’, and a cheer goes around the table. 

Onlookers wonder if they are referring to themselves. 

✂︎

In hindsight, Namjoon was probably right. But Jimin can be extremely convincing sometimes, and Jin takes every opportunity to throw a party, so maybe Namjoon was fighting a lost cause in the first place. 

He ponders what he wants his tombstone to say, while pacing around Jin’s apartment, where the party is already going on, full force. Maybe something like ‘Kim Namjoon (1994-2020) Murdered by Min Yoongi at a house party.’ Well, at least if he really does die tonight, it would be a good night for it. 

Namjoon has many complaints about Seokjin. He could probably pull up a never ending list of the girls and guys who have come complaining to him for his friend’s mistakes, screaming about how Jin broke their heart, so and so. But, even he has to begrudgingly agree, Kim Seokjin throws one hell of a party. 

It was one of those rare nights where you could actually make out the faint stars in the Seoul skyline, where the twinkling of the stars felt peaceful. Namjoon isn’t too much of a party person, but the monsters that he calls his friends go out every Friday night, pulling him along most of the time. He’s gotten used to just camping out on Jin’s fancy apartment balcony, (Seriously, what kind of college kid has a balcony?) avoiding the cheers, loud screaming and horribly unhygienic things that are happening inside. 

Unfortunately, thanks to Park Jimin and his horrible ideas, Namjoon is currently wincing in the middle of a huge crowd full of sweaty bodies. He regrets not faking a fever while he could, but it was way too late now. His job tonight was to keep Y/n preoccupied. 

“Remember Joonie, under no circumstances can Y/n see Yoongi before Hoseok completes the task. If she even sees a glimpse of him, she’s going to freak out and leave.”

His aforementioned target was nowhere to be seen. Namjoon is starting to worry that all their efforts will go to waste just because you decided it was another Friday to stay in bed and watch Disney movies on repea-

“wHOA!” Another sweaty hand pulls him out from the crowd, and Namjoon stumbles out, breathing heavily. 

“Why aren’t you out on the balcony?” 

“Why- what- oH! Y/n!” 

You stare blankly at Namjoon, who is still rubbing his arm in pain. 

“You came!” He says, with a look on his face that you can’t quite decipher. 

“What do you mean, I came? Of course I came! It was you and Jin who insisted I come, right?” You dragged him over to the makeshift bar that Jin had set up hours ago on his kitchen island, pouring the both of you strong drinks. You’ll need it to get through the night. 

“Right!” Namjoon awkwardly laughs and follows you into the kitchen, craning his neck to lock eyes with Jimin, who then gives him a thumbs up and leans over to whisper to Hoseok. 

“Y/n,” He says, patting your back when you start coughing lightly from the shot you just downed. “We’re friends no matter what, right?” 

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, looking around Jin’s apartment. “Wow, it’s pretty empty today. Aren’t there usually like 50 people trying to get into one of these parties?” Luckily for Namjoon, who was almost sweating and about to cry trying to come up with an excuse to satisfy you, you ignored him and continued talking. 

“Whatever, it’s fine. The less, the better.” You’re still looking around the crowds when you grab a hold of Namjoon’s shoulders, turning him towards you. “Yoongi’s not here, right?”

“What? hahahHHAHAHA nO of course not!” 

“Oh okay,” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “I look terrible today, I would not be able to face him.”  

“You look great today! What do you mean…!” Hopefully you dismiss the bead of sweat trailing down from his temple. It is pretty hot in here. 

Apparently, it took multiple threats, to Yoongi’s coffee machine and lots of bargaining from Jimin to convince him to attend the party, but it seemed to have worked, considering that Namjoon could make out the dark figure of Yoongi, dressed in a black hoodie and ripped jeans in the corner of the room, chatting to Jungkook. His eyes, however, were riveted straight beside him, on Y/n. 

“They really are idiots.” Namjoon muses to himself. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

From the corner of his eye, Taehyung is waving his arms around trying to catch his attention. He mouths something that Namjoon can’t quite make out, so he just mouths a ‘what?’ back at him and shakes his head. 

Namjoon can almost hear Taehyung sigh from across the room. 

You’re still pouring your second shot, so you don’t notice as Hoseok walks slowly from the living room. Namjoon has actually never seen his friends more concentrated on anything in his life. Even Seokjin, who was, just a second ago, dancing with some guy that Namjoon isn’t even sure he knows, has now pushed the stranger away, completely fixated on Y/n, who is blissfully oblivious to the attention focused on you. 

“Hey…!” Hoseok slowly slides in, real fucking smooth, if Namjoon could add, beside Y/n leaning on his forearm and smiling up towards her. Namjoon has to commend Jimin for the execution of Operation: Delusional Idiots. He’s honestly never seen Jimin put this much work into anything. 

Hoseok was the only mutual friend they knew of that Yoongi was familiar with, but not Y/n. Jimin said that he had considered Jackson for a short while, before realising that Jackson can’t talk to girls for shit. At least Hoseok can force his thoughts into some semblance of order when he’s flirting. 

“Oh! … Who,” You furrow your brows at Hobi, and Namjoon slowly backs away against the kitchen wall. “Are you?” Hobi laughs and spins around to face you. 

“I guess you don’t know me. I’m Jung Hoseok,” He sticks his hand out and you tentatively shake it, making him grin. “I’m friends with Namjoon.” He points up at Namjoon, and Joon awkwardly smiles, waving back at the pair. 

“Ohh,” You say, nodding. “Hi! Nice to meet you!” Sometimes Namjoon worries about you. You’re way too friendly and nice for your own good. 

“I’m a dance major, actually. You can call me Hobi, by the way.” He smiles at you and finally lets go of your hand. “Are you sure we’ve never met before?” You shake your head, murmuring incoherently. “No, I didn’t think so. I’d remember you if we met.” You giggle and push him aside playfully, offering him a drink. Hoseok accepts it with a smile even wider than the last. 

(Namjoon is now a little skeptical about Hoseok’s claims of flirting skill, but thankfully, you are, admittedly, a little stupid when it comes to this kind of stuff. You probably won’t even notice Hobi’s flirting with you at all.)

From the corner of the room, Yoongi’s deep gaze is now glaring deep into Hoseok’s back, but Hobi either seems to not notice or acknowledge it. He continues to stare at Y/n, laughing at whatever comes out of your mouth. 

“You’re a dance major? That’s so cool!” You gush, and if he didn’t know you so much, Namjoon would think that you were flirting back. No, you were just that naive. 

“- Thanks!” Hobi suddenly laughs at something that Namjoon didn’t manage to catch, but what he does catch is the look on Yoongi’s face when Hobi touches your forearm. 

Even Jungkook, who was talking to Yoongi, gulped and took a step back. Jin gestures something to Jimin, and Jimin shoots back an enthusiastic thumbs up. He then shouts something over to Namjoon, but he can’t quite hear over the loud party noise. 

 Based on his own mediocre lip-reading skills, he either said ‘It’s going well’ or ‘Jungkook smells’ He’s thinking maybe it’s the first. Namjoon slides away from the kitchen to join Jin, who is happily watching all of this unfold from the sidelines. 

“When do you think he’ll break?” Jin says, sipping on a bright blue drink that Namjoon doesn’t even want to know the contents of. He quickly glances over at Yoongi’s face, which is getting redder by the moment. 

“Anytime now. His glass is about to explode from his grip.” Sure enough, Namjoon predicted correctly. A few moments later, Yoongi begins to stalk over to the kitchen, and Jin clinks his bright blue monstrous concoction against Namjoon’s glass. Grumbling, Jungkook also comes over and slaps a $10 dollar bill into Jin’s palm, scowling when Jin smiles and accepts it. 

“Yeah, so a group of otters are actually called a romp, can you believe that- oomph!” Seemingly popping out of nowhere, Yoongi grabs a hold of your hand, glaring at Hobi. 

“Yoongi!” You squeak out. Namjoon, that fucking liar! He left you all by yourself with a new friend and didn’t even bother telling you the love of your life was in the very same room? You didn’t even wash your hair yesterday night! Well, at least someone finally listened to what you have to say about otters… say, that was a bit unordinary, nobody else has ever been interested in your otter fun facts before- 

Your trail of thought fades away when you look back up at Yoongi, who is still strangely looking at Hobi. “Um...” How is he holding you right now? He flinches away whenever you poke him on the shoulder, how is he holding your arm right now, completely unaffected? Oh. 

Of course Yoongi wouldn’t touch you willingly. He just has to be stupidly noble and moral and save you when you’re alone with a man he isn’t familiar with. “Oh, ah… Yoongi! This is my new friend, Hobi! You have nothing to worry about, I was just talking to him about otters and- oh, nevermind. Anyways, you don’t… have… to… hold my hand anymore.” Well, at least you can save him from the embarrassment of holding your hand any longer. 

“Yoongi, Yoon- Yoongi,” He doesn’t let go of your hand, even when you attempt to slip yours out of his. He seems to be gripping on, for a reason you can’t seem to comprehend. All he’s doing right now is maintaining eye contact with Hobi. Instead, he just glares into his eyes, repeating your words. 

“Friends. Friends?” 

“Yes, friends! Oh, ah, let me introduce you, um, Hobi, this is Yoongi, and Yoongi, this is-”

“Jung Hoseok. You call him Hobi?” 

“Well, yes- oh! Do you two know each other, or?” 

“Of course!” Hobi says, pouring another drink out. He stretches out his arm and offers the glass to Yoongi, but all he does is stare at the glass, not moving an inch. Still smiling brightly, Hobi just brought the glass to his lips, sipping on two separate drinks at a time. 

“Long time no see, man! Yoongi, how’ve you been?” Yoongi, still clutching onto your hand, stayed silent for a while, all while Hobi continued to smile. 

“I’m… fine.” He eventually chokes out. 

“Yoongi, are you okay? You seem really-” You’re once again interrupted when Yoongi pulls you away, stomping out the kitchen. You lean backwards, yelling out a quick apology to Hobi, but he doesn’t seem affected in the slightest. 

“Yoongi, you’re being rude! I said you don’t have to worry! Hobi is a new friend I met, he’s a friend of Namjoon’s, and we were just talking about otters-” 

“Why are you defending yourself?” Boy, you just keep on getting interrupted tonight. 

“Wha- huh?” Yoongi finally lets your hand go when he reaches the apartment door, shutting it closed, leaving it swinging in midair, even though he regretted it immediately after. You can still faintly hear the party going on through the door, but you had no time to process the fact that Yoongi just pulled you outside the party when he spoke up again. 

“I said, why are you defending yourself like that? You have no reason to. You’re acting like I just caught you cheating.” Yoongi’s voice turns faint towards the end of his sentence, and he looks down at his feet, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. 

“I’m not defending myself! I’m just- I’m just, well, I-” You fumbled with your words, stuttering and fidgeting around with your fingers. Why were you defending yourself? It’s not like… Yeah, it’s not like you’re his girlfriend or anything. 

“You can talk about otters to whoever you want. You might want to change up your flirting tactics though, not many people can put up with your strange obsession with otters-”

“hEY!”

“- Anyways, Hoseok’s, not a bad man. He’s pretty great, actually,” Yoongi admits. “He’ll treat you well. And he seems to be super interested in you, so… ” Yoongi clears his throat. You narrow your eyes and look down at his shuffling feet. This is probably the most Yoongi has ever spoken to you, in private, anyway. Why is he so unbothered? And why does that bother you so much? He doesn’t even care a little bit? Does Hobi really seem like such a great guy? 

“You don’t care?” 

“No, just, you know, don’t get hurt, or whatever. I’ll have to murder him… Or something.” You let out a small laugh, but he doesn’t seem to be joking.  

“So, if I go straight back in and ask Hobi out, you wouldn’t mind?” You swear that a vein pops out from Yoongi’s neck, but perhaps it was just your imagination. 

“Why would I mind?” He says, through clenched teeth. 

“... You’re right. Why would you be mad? You don’t care about me anyways.” Something ticks in Yoongi’s jaw. 

“What do you mean I don’t care for you?” He blurts out, just as you were about to head back through the apartment door. 

“Oh no, please, it doesn’t bother me as much now, trust me. It’s fine, Some people just don’t… vibe with you, I get it! You don’t like me all that much, it’s okay! It’s not like you’ve hurt me or anything! You just don’t like talking to me because I’m kind of a dumbass, that’s alright. It’s okay to keep avoiding me. And again, I’m sorry for the whole elbow thing, you didn’t talk to me for like the next two weeks, and again, I totally understand, you know?” Yoongi stares at you, blinking in realisation. 

“So… you mean to tell me that all this time, you’ve thought that… I didn’t like you?”

“Well,” Now you’re blinking confusedly along with him. “Isn’t that… why you run away everytime I come over to hangout with Jimin?” Yoongi brings his hands out of his pockets and buries his face in them, groaning. 

“And that’s why you don’t like talking to me, right? And that one time I spoke to you and you went into the bathroom and screamed for like five minutes? … Do you not hate me?” A look of realisation floods his eyes, and Yoongi leans against the wall, slowly sinking down to the ground until he’s practically sprawled out on the floor. Staring aimlessly, he reaches up and grabs your hand again, pulling you down to face him. You let out a small squeak, but you crouch down on your feet, awkwardly looking at your right hand that Yoongi (!!!) is currently holding for the second (!!!!) time. 

“Forgive me, Y/n.” He whispers, dropping his head onto your hand. 

“Forgive you? What for? Yoongi this is a little dramatic, don’t you think? This is technically a public area, um, maybe you wanna go back to your dorm? I can call Jimin out here, I’m sure he’ll leave the party early, let me just-” He pulls you back and won’t let go, even when you try to stand and leave his grip. 

“Yoongi!” Like a child clutching onto his mother, he just sits there and pouts, not letting your hand go. 

“I’m sorry!” He wails, lightly kicking his feet up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being my emo self and avoiding you, I’m sorry for making you think I hate you when that really isn’t the case at all, I’m sorry for being an idiot and screaming whenever you touched me, I promise that none of that was ever your fault, because you must have felt so hurt and disgusted by me-” Yoongi suddenly looks up and glares at you. 

“Yah! Why didn’t you just slap me!”

“Slap… you?”

“Yes, slap some sense into me, you idiot! I was so mean to you, why didn’t you just tell me you were hurt?” 

“Well,” You said, smiling nervously. “I wasn’t hurt!”

“Yes you were!” He wails again. Some sort of strangled noise comes from the back of his throat. “You must’ve been really hurt, and I’m sorry! I don’t want you to be hurt! I don’t want you to date Hobi, and I don’t want to lose you, because I’m selfish, and I’m fucking stupid!”

You speechlessly opened your mouth and closed it again, like a fish. Well, that was a full 180. What is he talking about? Apologising? You had dealt with the uncomfortable small talk and denying your feelings for years only to have him apologise now? You finally manage to open your mouth and firmly say something, but what comes out of your mouth is certainly not what you planned to say. 

“Min Yoongi!” You yelled and watched him slightly tilt his head up. “How could you say that now!?” His head is fully up now, gazing at you slightly dazed. “How dare you mess with my feelings for the past two years, just to completely, unexpectedly, blurt all of this out outside of Seokjin’s shitty house party?” You cry, slouching down onto the ground and sitting cross legged. Your unoccupied hand reaches up to your hair, frustratingly running your hand through your messy locks. 

“... If it counts for anything, I think that your obsession with otters is really cute.” You sniffle, for no particular reason, and nod. 

“... Does that mean you like me then?”

“Y/n,” Yoongi sighs, taking your other hand out of your hair and placing it into his own. “Isn’t that obvious, you fucking dumbass?” 

“You’re kinda giving off mixed signals here.” Yoongi squishes your cheeks together in a brave act from an unusual burst of courage that he managed to somehow build up. 

“Y/n,” 

“Mmph- Yesh?” 

“I like you. I like you a lot. I’m sorry for being a dumbass who couldn’t ask you out, and I’m sorry I had to do this at Seokjin’s ‘shitty house party’, but I’d really like it if you would go on a date with me sometime.” 

Yoongi releases your cheeks from his grip when you stay silent for a small while, red slowly creeping up from the neck up to his ears. 

“I mean, you know, only if you want to, it’d be fine if all of that was just, you know… ” Yoongi mutters, gesturing around randomly. 

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Yoongi.” 

“Oh. Cool, that’s cool. That’s… yeah that’s cool.” 

“Text me the details?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll, I’ll do- I’ll do that.” 

You can hear a faint scream when you enter Seokjin’s apartment again, but instead of filling you with the insecure, horrible feeling like it once did, you just smile and giggle to yourself again. What you don’t seem to notice is Jimin, Jin, Joon, Tae, Jungkook and Hobi exchanging victorious glances across the room. 

(About a week later, Yoongi took you to the zoo for your date. He slightly regretted that decision after you spent an hour making faces at the otters.) 

[the-fiction-witch]

NERD!!

REAL LIFE: SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FUNNY

"Hellooooo Bluooo... uhhh what rymthes with blue thomas?" Y/n asks sat on her sofa fixing her make up

"Uhhhh... screw? achoo? Emume?" He answers off camera

"Ohhh emume. I like those... they had a war"

"They did." He says as she put her make up away and he handed her a cup of tea before sitting beside her with his own cup "Also shoe?"

"Thank you for supplying me with rhymes"

"You're welcome, Are we going to film the video now?"

"You film the video"

"make me Biiitttchhh"

"Fuck you Thomas"

"That an insult or your to do list?" he smirked

"You are.. just in a fucking mood today aren't you? what is this mood you get in? Sassy Thomas? Bitchy? I don't know. this state where you just fucking roast me all day"

"Go on then y/n your the one wasting your camera battery"

"... I will pour this scolding tea on your head"

"Go ahead my motorbike helmet is open faced and I have hit the ground so many times I have very little feeling in my head anymore"

"I didn't mean the head atop your neck Thomas" she warned he then glanced down at his belt "Yeah that one"

"I'll be good" He answered having his tea

"Yeah you will bitch boy"

"What are we doing today?"

"Yes! we are doing more Internet Questions. By which I mean I found a random tag thing and now we are gonna answer dumb questions"

"We should have had wine for this"

"why didn't you say that suggestion ten minuets ago. that's a great idea" she complained "Fuck it! I'm already sat"

"I'm really not helpful today?"

"You are not." she sighed "How do you want people to deal with your body when you die?" she asks "That's a loaded first question"

"It is."

"This isn't really a question for you becuase... your immortal"

"I'm not immortal y/n"

"You haven't aged since you where fucking nineteen!"

"I aged"

"You grew facial hair that's different. that's not aging that's just refusing to shave"

"True. Took me six months. and I loved it"

"Yeah then I waxed it off because you looked like a 70's porn star"

"Bow chika wow wow" he laughs

"I will shove a fucking cactus up your ass now answer the question"

"Burn me. and shoot me off into space... I will be very happy"

"Yeah that does sound fun, you could become part of a planet, or explore forever"

"Yeah it sounds fun, maybe I'll find a black hole and get reborn?"

"I don't get that"

"Space Oddessy y/n"

"That's nerd shit"

"The best Sci fi film of all time"

"Nerd! shit!" she laughs "I wanna be turned into a tree. that's a thing they can burry you basically in a seed and then your decay fertilizes the tree as it grows, so I can make oxygen for the planet, and maybe be a home to some squirrels,  like an eco system around me and I'll be happy"

"awww that's sweet"

"But if that doesn't work out and the planet is too fucked by the time I die. Fuck it I'll come float around space and annoy you for all eternity"

"Will you just like start every day with the star trek opening?"

"Yes. Yes I will For all time" she laughs "next! What is your favourite mug?"

"Not this one. The uhh the funny one"

"The my dick's not small you have a large Virginia mug?"

"Yes. I like that"

"this one is mine" she smiled holding up a big sculpted mug of a sloth mama hugging a baby sloth "Because sloths"

"sloths."

"You're like a sloth?"

"why because I'm too lazy for my own good?"

"No because your hair is full of gross stuff"

".... bitch fuck you."

"Fuck you too" she laughs "next! What is your favourite pair of socks?"

"May I go get them?"

"Yes..." she sighs It then cut back and they both had socks in there hands "These are mine they are fuzzy and they have penguins on and the penguin has a scarf on, and they have little bits on the bottom so there socks but they still grip"

"They are good, you have kicked me while wearing those and it was very plush and soft"

"Yours?"

"I have socks with the star wars text crawl on them" He smiled

"You colossal Nerd!"

"I love them!"

"NERD!!" she laughs "do they actually have all of it"

"Yes they do"

"are you sure? they could have missed a line"

"I would know if they missed a line y/n"

"Do you legit know it like off by heart"

"yes I do"

"... You fucking nerd." she sighed "Did you get them at tall darth and handsome?"

"What no? where's that? I wanna go there"

"Are you serious right now? You don't get that?"

"No"

"You fucker you where in it!"

"I was?"

"Phineas and Ferb star wars special. the thing you went on about for fucking months! because got to be a sith"

"Ohh yeah..."

"To anyone watching I will be crucifying Thomas in my garden after this video so feel free to come over and whip his bitch ass"

"Don't tell people to whip me"

"Why not?

"Because.... internet" He says "Don't tell the world to whip me"

"Why not? I thought you were into that?"

"Y/n!"

"what?"

"Nooooo... I am not"

"Aren't you?"

"No."

"I kinda wanna do a video were we go though your house and just put everything star wars themed in a box just to show you the root of the problem"

"It's not a problem"

"Shirts, socks, your bath duck, the egg timer, The blanket under your bed, the lightsaber on your bedroom wall, The bubble bath, the Toaster, the ice cubes, The Massive poster on your landing, the star wars candles! literal candles that smell like fucking space ships!" she lists "and that's just off the top of my head.... Thomas?"

"... I have star wards hand soap now in my bathroom"

"You are in your thirties!"

"Say what you will, Millennium falcon smells amazing"

"It does. But that doesn't change my anger around you owning it as a candle"

"jealous"

"Okay ... If you could have any superpower what would you have?"

"Uhhhh teleportation"

"why?"

"I'll never have to pay for the tube again"

"Good point"

"Or a plane?"

"Or deal with rush hour"

"Or pay for my car"

"Or your bike?"

"No, no I will keep my bike"

"But you can teleport?"

"Yeah but bike is for fun"

"Alright, Uhhh I think that I would want invisibility, Or the power to make someone cum if I poke them. Because you could get out of so much with that. You could rob a bank with that. you could never loose a fight"

"You are so evil."

"fun though" she smiled "Poke" she laughs poking his cheek

"No no no outta here with your magic cum hands"

"That's what she said" she laughs

"No."

"I think you said that earlier actually Thomas"

"God damn it y/n, No. No I'm done" He says getting up and going off screen

"what? Come on"

"Don't tell People on the internet what I'm into!"

"Ohh come on Thomas, this is the next video! where we go though the box under your bed"

"Oohh hell no!"

[simplydm]

This has it all- Ponk, Sam, Foolish, incomprehensible stupidity from the author, phineas and ferb reference, a special guest,

Sam burst through the door and fell directly to the floor. “Ponkie! I just invented a new redstone machine! And I need a test dummy!”

“Whatchu calling me dummy for, huh?” Ponk looked up from their super important doctors document, sliding their feet off the desk.

Sam began to pick up bits and pieces of the door. “Sweet Ponkie, I would never call you a dummy. It’s just a phrase that means someone to help me test out a new machine. Also, sorry about breaking your door again. I’ll make you another one, I promise.”

“Well, I suppose I can help you if you make me another door. Good thing I just finished up reading this super important document.” Ponk lay the papers down and went into the other room to shed their doctor’s coat. When they came back, it was to find Sam with the super important document in his hand. “Hey!” Ponk snatched the papers out of Sam’s hands.

“Ponkie, these are images of me from the prison. Literally how did you get the prison’s security tapes? And why are there little hearts drawn around me?” Sam sounded beyond confused.

“I have my ways.” Ponk said evasively, putting the paper in a desk drawer and locking it.

“Ponk…”

“Sammy! Hey! I’m your dummy!” Ponk patted Sam on the cheek, and instantly Sam melted into a big goofy smile.

“Yeah, you’re my dummy. Let’s go!” He walked through the Sam-shaped hole in the door. Ponk dropped their smile and mouthed some definitely really good insults at Sam’s back and flipped him off for good measure, but followed him nonetheless.

“Cheated on my cute ass, chopped off my arm, breaks my doors… this man should start financially compensating me.” Ponk muttered as they caught up with Sam.

“What was that?” Sam smiled down at them, tossing an arm over their shoulder.

“Nothing, Sam. Just clearing my throat, you know.” Ponk shrugged the arm off.

“Well, I’m sure we can find a nice way to compensate you ;)” Sam said.

“How the fuck did you say that out loud?”

“Don’t worry about it. C’mon Ponkie, let’s go experiment.”

The redstone machine was huge. The best way Ponk could think to describe it was that it looked like some kind of -inator that Dr. Doofenshmirtz would make. The redstone wiring was intricate and wrapped around bulky blocks, and it all came to one point, down a barrel and pointing right at the door as they entered.

“What the fuck is this thing?” Ponk walked slowly around the machine.

“I’ve been tinkering with this bitch for months now.” Sam patted the machine gingerly on the side. “Basically, I wanted to create a machine that changes muscle mass. We have so many weak people on the Dream smp, and they’re always fighting! Not everyone is a muscle god with such a fat dumpy like I am. And I think wars could be so much more efficient if everyone was swole as hell!”

Ponk personally thought that wars would actually last longer if everyone was physically fit, but they kept that to themselves- they were still wondering how Sam had said ;) out loud.

“So, what am I here for then?” Ponk asked, coming to stop in front of the barrel of the machine.

“Ponkie, you’re gonna be my first test subject. I’m gonna make you swole.” Sam arranged Ponk right where he needed them.

“I don’t know Sam… I like looking small, because then people underestimate me.” Ponk scratched their head through their mask.

“It’ll give you a fat dumpy.” Sam wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh shit!” Ponk exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Blast me with that shit, babey!”

“You’re cute.” Sam said affectionately, going around to the other side and slamming a huge red button with his fist. There was a loud noise that kind of sounded like the default iPhone ringtone, not that Ponk knew that that was because iPhones didn’t exist in Minecraft, and a flash of yellow light.

Ponk opened their eyes to find themselves looking up at the ceiling. Their whole body felt weird. They must have fallen to the ground hard.

“Ponkie? Where are you?” Sam sounded frantic.

“I’m right here on the floor, stoopid.” Ponk said.

Sam’s footsteps came closer and closer, and finally Sam came into view above them. “Ponk?”

“Sammy, did you get taller? Why’re you so far away?” Ponk called to him.

“Oh my god it is you.” Sam bent down and looked into Ponk’s eyes. “Oh no… Ponkie…”

“What? What’s wrong with me?” Ponk demanded, starting to get a little panicked.

“I- I’ll just show you.” Sam said, scooping Ponk up and walking to a nearby mirror. It looked like someone had put their fist through it at some point, but Ponk could still see themselves clearly, laying in Sam’s big hands.

“Fuck! I’m a fucking lemon!!”

From what Ponk gathered from Sam’s frantic explanation, before he dumped Ponk on the table and took up residence at the other end with his notes, was that the machine had, instead of adding muscle mass, had just straight up turned them into a lemon. All body mass turned into a fruit.

Now the room was silent, except for Sam flipping through pages of notes. “There has to be some kind of reverse switch.” He kept muttering. Ponk just lay there, propped against some books. They could do nothing except think about having to live the rest of their life as a lemon.

“I’ve been researching all night, and I think I’ve come up with a solution.” Sam ran a hand through his hair as he approached Ponk’s side of the table. “True love’s kiss.”

“True love’s kiss?” Ponk repeated.

“Yeah. It seems that redstone seem to run off of similar magical properties that old stories do. So, hypothetically, true love’s kiss should break the spell.”

“I see. Makes perfect sense.” Ponk murmured. “Alright. It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah.” Sam picked Ponk up.

“Alright, so let’s go to Foolish!” Ponk said.

“Foolish?” Sam froze, with Ponk the lemon halfway to his pursed lips.

“Yeah! Who else would my true love be, huh?” Ponk wiggled a little bit in Sam’s palm. “Let’s go!”

“Oh… I thought I- okay, yeah, let’s go to Foolish then.” Sam turned around to grab something, and couldn’t seem to find it. He turned back around eventually, after wiping his eyes. He scooped Ponk the lemon into his hand. “Alright, to the desert we go.”

“Eh? What’s up with your voice, Sam? Why do you sound weird and congested?”

“Don’t worry about it Ponkie.” Sam replied. “Just cleaning my throat, you know.”

They could hear Foolish long before they could see him. It sounded like thunder coming from across the sandy land. Foolish finally came into view, twenty-three feet tall and stacking giant stones on top of each other.

“Foolish!” Ponk called, but of course Foolish didn’t hear them, as their tiny voice didn’t carry very far.

“Foolish!” Sam yelled. That got Foolish’s attention. He turned around and waved at them.

“Sam!” He called in a thunderous voice, shaking the ground as he walked over. “Lemmie join you, my handsome friend!”

“Why the hell is he calling you handsome?” Ponk asked Sam.

“I literally am handsome, Ponk.” Sam replied. Ponk couldn’t think of a rebuttal to that.

“What’s up?” Foolish said, now human sized. “Oooo is that a lemon? Can I eat it?”

“Like hell you can eat me, stoopid!” Ponk shouted.

Foolish screamed and jumped back. “That lemon is talking! Oh shit, I knew I shouldn’t have taken all those drugs I found in that mineshaft.”

“No, no, you’re not high. That lemon is talking. It’s Ponk.” Sam assured Foolish, holding out the lemon.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s much more reasonable.” Foolish contended. “…Why are they a lemon?”

“Sam used me as a dummy and now I’m a fucking fruit!” Ponk tried their best to wiggle around in anger, but lemons don’t have many bones or muscles.

“I was working on a machine and it malfunctioned when I tested it on them.” Sam clarified.

“Okay, but why are you coming to me? Do you want me to, like, hit the machine with a big rock or something? I got lots of big rocks. But redstone… not so much.” Foolish picked up a rock, just in case it was needed.

“No, see, we think we have a solution to reverse the machine’s effects. True love’s kiss.” Sam explained, but he sounded kind of strained at the last part.

“Okay…” Foolish’s eyes flicked back and forth from Sam to Ponk the lemon. “Why are you coming to me then?”

“You’re the true love, stoopid!” Ponk piped up. “So kiss me!”

Foolish gave Sam a very confused look, but scooped Ponk into his own hand, tossing the rock to the side. “So I just have to kiss you.”

“Yes.” Sam said.

“Okay!” Foolish brought Ponk up to his mouth. “Lol, I’m so afraid I’m accidentally take a bite out of you like I would to normal lemons instead of kiss you. I’m just in a silly goofy mood like that, you know?”

“Please don’t take a bite out of me… yet.” Ponk said, and wished they knew how to say ;) out loud.

“I- I hate mortals.” Foolish murmured, but leaned in and kissed Ponk the lemon.

Nothing happened.

Ponk and Foolish turned to look at Sam. Sam was shaking his fist out, and the column next to him had a dent in it.

“It didn’t work.” Ponk said.

“I’m gonna be honest, Ponk, I didn’t think that would work anyways. Don’t you think Sam would be you’re real true love? I’m just super attractive and smart, too much so to be anyone’s true love. I think Sam should try, honestly.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Sam said as causally as he could, leaning an elbow on the nearby pillar, but missing it entirely and almost falling over.

Ponk regarded Sam from their throne of Foolish’s hands. “Yeah, alright.”

Foolish handed Ponk back over to Sam. Sam raised Ponk the lemon up to his face.

“It’s worth a shot.” Sam repeated, smiling softly at them. “After all, you’re my dummy, remember, Ponkie?”

“You’re such a simp, Sam.” Ponk rolled their eyes. “Just kiss me already.”

Sam brought Ponk to his lips and kissed them gently.

Nothing happened.

Sam sighed, a few tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry Ponkie. I should have done more.”

Foolish, Sam, and Ponk stood there in silence, all trying to comprehend the idea of Ponk having to live their life as a lemon.

“Wait!” Ponk suddenly spoke up. “What if you’re both my true love! What if you both have to kiss me at the same time!”

Sam looked at Foolish, who shrugged.

“Worth a shot.” Foolish said.

“Worth a shot.” Sam echoed. He held Ponk up so they were level with Sam and Foolish’s mouths. They both leaned in, and kissed Ponk on either side of their lemony figure.

Nothing happened.

“FUCK!” Ponk yelled, and never had they wanted to have legs more then now. They’d be kicking shit if they could. “I’m gonna be a fucking lemon for the rest of my fucking life!”

“Perhaps I can be of some help.”

Foolish, Sam, and Ponk in Sam’s hand turned around to find a figure in white walking towards them. The person came into view, and the three of them gasped.

The milkman stood before them, smiling and holding a few cartons of milk. “Hello everyone. Sorry it took so long to get here.”

“The Milkman?” Ponk said in disbelief.

“That’s me. Hello Ponk. You look to be in a lemony predicament there.” The Milkman leaned down to look Ponk directly in the eye. “Fortunately, I think I figured out a solution.”

“How?” Foolish asked.

“Well, I was looking through Sam’s notes, and I noticed a critical error in the redstone calculations. And I think, with my knowledge and abilities, I have come up with a new potential reversal cure.”

“How the fuck did you get into my house?” Sam asked.

“I have my milky ways.” The milkman said evasively. “Anyway, I need you all to trust me. I can fix this lemon.”

“Lay it on me babey!” Ponk said.

“Sam, hold Ponk out towards me.” The milkman rolled up his sleeves. Sam held out his hands. The milkman unscrewed a jug of milk and drizzled it all over Ponk’s lemony body and Sam’s hands. Then, the milkman leaned down and straight up made out with Ponk the lemon. He pulled away and then, with a pop, Ponk suddenly appeared in their human form, sitting in Sam’s hands. They were covered in milk, and gasping for air.

“There we go, back to normal.” The milkman said in satisfaction. “Well, my work here is done. Back to delivering milk. No need to thank me.” And without another word, the milkman turned and walked away. Ponk, Foolish, and Sam (still holding Ponk), stared after him until he vanished into the desert haze.

“That was kinda poggers, if I’m being honest.” Foolish remarked.

[willowthegraycat]

Ranting about Linda and Candace from Phineas and Ferb

A rant about Linda Flynn-Fletcher’s bad parenting, and Candace’s worsening mental state in the show Phineas and Ferb.

Now, for the most part, Linda’s pretty cool. She’s nice, bakes lots of pie, and has a cool backstory as a singer. Linda was absolutely someone whom I would love to have had as my mother. That being said. Let’s take a look past that and examine what I believe to be very bad indeed: Her treatment of Candace and her reactions to Phineas and Ferb.

Linda’s treatment of Candace seems pretty okay, at a first glance. But when you look at the ‘jokes’ she makes, it’s clear it’s not. Now, I don’t believe this was all intentional on the writers’ parts. Because of the way the show is structured, Linda needs to remain oblivious to Phineas and Ferb’s inventions, as well as Candace’s increasingly worsening mental state because of it all.

It is a kids show, so they don’t get that dark, but here’s a quick rundown of Candace’s realistic mental state in regards to the boys: She just wants to show her mother their inventions, at first. Whether or not you think this makes her a tattletale or not, the fact is that Linda would have absolutely wanted to know about their inventions.  Candace says in one episode that she was doing it to protect them from their dangerous inventions. Now, it’s undeniable that Phineas and Ferb are more than capable of protecting themselves and others, but it’s still not acceptable for them to be doing these things without their mother’s knowledge. (The father isn’t being considered here because his default thing to say is ‘ask your mother’) So like it or not, Candace is absolutely right to be trying to ‘bust’ them.

This desire to bust them, however, spirals into an obsession, as each time she almost manages to bust them, it’s snatched away from her immediately. There is no satisfaction, and despite the fact that it may not be the kindest thing to do, it’s super frustrating to fail like this. Again and again. And again. Of course, to us, the reasonable thing to do would be to just give up, and enjoy it, a message that the show is practically forcing down our throats. I love this show, and I think the message of making the most of every day is absolutely a valid one, but expecting Candace to just get over it and move on isn’t a reasonable thing to request. Candace has gotten to the point where busting her brothers is a part of her personality, so much so that in the episode where she’s split into two personalities, one of them is completely devoted to busting them. (The other one is devoted to Jeremy, which is another concern that I’m not getting into here). It’s a kids show, so you can’t expect them to go too deep and dark, but the resolution to that very episode is her being recombined and then going off with Jeremy. This basically means she’s burying an entire half of her personality. This half is portrayed as the bad side, and although it is certainly not the better side, it’s important to note that this obsession isn’t just her being a ‘snitch’. It’s a result of her constant failures over the summer. (Does ”driving our sister insane” ring any bells?) In another episode, Candace gets her friend Stacy to hypnotize her into repressing this part of her personality. Stacy assigns her trigger words that are actually just common expressions, leading to a funny episode where Candace will switch between personalities as people around her say them. It’s not awful that the show is playing this for laughs, but I wish there were a better resolution to this. She’s on a date with Jeremy, and a kid says her trigger word, causing her to leap up and run off to bust her brothers. Jeremy says “That’s my girl.” I think this is a better response than trying to repress her obsession, but there’s probably a better way to approach this situation. (Let’s not forget that time Candace literally breaks a table with her hands as she’s trying to sit still and not bust her brothers)(At this point I think she’s actually addicted to busting, since she has breakdowns when she isn’t able to at least attempt it)

But this ‘better approach’ we speak of is most certainly not what we see her mother doing. In a reoccurring joke of the series, Linda is states to have published journals about Candace. She treats Candace’s ‘crazy outbursts’ as funny, and something she’s going to gossip about with her friends. Linda doesn’t take her seriously, despite Candace’s need to bust her brothers. There is one time that Linda actually finds out about the boys’s inventions, far into the future. In the episode where Candace(from the first day of summer) is time traveled to the future, she busts her brothers to her future-mom, using her young self as evidence. This works, and Linda believes her, but she’s unable to bust the future brothers, as they’ve already grown-up. Besides, Linda doesn’t really care, seeing as it’s the far future. Sure, she apologizes, but in my opinion it’s not nearly enough considering everything she does off-screen in addition to on-screen. In one episode, Candace has a daydream, in which her dad gives her his credit card with permission to ‘ruin them financially’, Jeremy proposes, and her mom says “you were right about Phineas and Ferb this whole time, we should have believed you.” Unfortunately, we don’t get to see this actually play out, as the episode in which Phineas and Ferb actually get busted ends up just being a dream inside a dream. Something locked so deep and far away that it might as well have never happened.

There’s a pretty popular scene from one of the earlier episodes, in which Linda looks at Candace and says “I worry about you sometimes.” I don’t doubt that she does, but this line is played for jokes, making the idea of Candace’s mental state needing to be worried about seem like a joke to the audience. Candace is portrayed as the antagonist, and Phineas and Ferb as the protagonists. While the show doesn’t follow those roles exactly, that’s definitely the intended reading of it. Phineas and Ferb are happy nearly all the time, and they’re smart, and they can do anything, and they’re basically the perfect children. Of course they have their flaws, but in the eyes of the viewer, this is the example kids should be following. Be perfect. As a young child, I wanted to be like them, the perfect kids who could do anything. As an older sister myself, I would often put myself into Candace’s shoes, and I would mock her despite this, because the show wants us to think her mistakes are funny. I love this show, but I don’t love some of the messages it left me with. Candace gets into bad situations all the time, and we see her shake it off and keep going towards her goal, again and again. We see her get into situations that would realistically leave her physically injured(falling down an escalator, getting attacked by a dog, various other injuries played up for laughs), and yet she keeps going. Maybe this is just cartoon logic, but there was a moment with a mountain called ‘the unclimbable mountain’. Phineas and Ferb built a machine for their friends to go up it on, and Candace? Well, Candace just climbed the mountain. She got the top pretty quickly, too, considering the climb. That’s super impressive. But all of these things also give off the impression that she does this because she has to. Everyone deserves sometime to just sit down and cry, or to take a break and ask for help. I don’t doubt that there are people willing to help Candace, and there are certainly times when the boys build something just for her, but most of the time Candace has to do things by herself. It’s mostly a self-imposed rule, but I can’t help but remember the time Candace fell down the escalator. It was an escalator going up, and Candace kept falling for hours. It’s off screen, and, again, played for laughs, but this happens while the family is on vacation. Candace finally makes her way back to her family as they were in the airport, implying that she had to make her way to the airport alone, as well as just suffering a terrible injury. And her family doesn’t even seem to care that much. It’s just Candace, of course, getting herself injured again.

Here’s the thing. Candace has bad luck. Earlier in the escalator episode, Candace gets a necklace thing that she thinks is a good luck charm. Upon receiving it, Candace gets terrible luck, and realizes it’s actually a bad luck charm. After much struggling to get up to the top of the volcano to dispose of the charm(which keeps coming back to her), Candace learns that it’s actually one of those things that restaurants use to tell you when your table is ready. So was it all a placebo effect? Apparently so. Let’s talk about the mysterious force for a moment. I promise I’ll get back on track in one second. The mysterious force is a concept Candace thinks up to explain how all the big things her brothers make manage to disappear each and every day. While I don’t believe the mysterious force is actually a thing, I do believe that Murphy’s Law is real.(in the show, not in real life) Candace is not a Murphy, therefore she doesn’t have this law, however, in one episode of Milo Murphy’s law, it is revealed that Phineas and Ferb have an opposite effect called the “Phineas and Ferb effect”, which basically means that nothing ever goes wrong for them. They have good luck.(certain episodes conflict with this, but it’s always alright in the end, so perhaps the law has some room for adaptability giving them a chance to have fun, just with no real consequences) If Phineas and Ferb want to build a rollercoaster, they can do just that. The adults might ask “Aren’t you a bit too young to be doing that?” but Phineas and Ferb will still be able to do it anyways. Except driving a car, because apparently that’s where we draw the line. (Lo and behold they found a loophole. I wonder how well “it’s a giant remote controlled toy car, not a real car” would hold up in court) So Phineas and Ferb literally can’t get in trouble and stay in trouble, because it would be unlucky. It would be bad. But, aside from the obvious not allowed things, why would some of the more harmless inventions also be considered unlucky to be revealed to their mom? Well, let’s get back on topic so I can answer that.

Linda doesn’t believe Candace about Phineas and Ferb, and outright ignores doesn’t notice when Candace is having a literal mental breakdown over the stress and anxiety the obsession is causing her. But Linda doesn’t believe Phineas and Ferb, either. Even with the evidence right up in her face, Linda thinks it’s ‘creativity’ up until the end. In every situation that leads to her finding out about their inventions, Linda either finds a way to deny it,(convincing herself she’s hallucinating) or she gets super annoyed by it and busts them. I’m not counting the time she sent them to bootcamp, since that was buried inside two dreams, but I am counting the times she did something/reacted poorly and then forgot/the timeline was altered. In the episode in which Candace is hypnotized to have trigger words, Linda goes outside to the backyard while the boys have built some sort of bouncy thing. It looks very dangerous, and a bit like a flying saucer, even though they probably added seatbelts. There’s a bit of a funny moment where Linda is repeated hit by a machine that causes her to forget about it, until she ends up saying Candace’s trigger word and Candace runs off, distracting Linda so that she ends up not seeing the machine after all, and just going back inside. The machine causing her to forget was built by Dr. Doofenshmirtz, and the ‘Phineas and Ferb effect’ is probably what ended up causing the machine to hit her so many times ‘at random’.(another explanation is that Perry the Platypus is intentionally trying to protect the boys from being found out, but this doesn’t explain everything so we’re not discussing that here) Linda’s reaction to the boy’s machine is shock, and we can see some anger seeping in each time right before she forgets. Now, for the most notable canonical busting. Linda’s dystopian future. In the episode with the time traveling, Candace’s future self manages to bust her brothers on the first day of summer by traveling back in time and using her prior knowledge to avoid the lucky obstacles placed in her way.(She just grabbed her mom instead of waiting for her to finish shopping)  Linda gets super upset at Phineas and Ferb and this leads to her ‘outlawing fun’, and the Tri-State Area becomes a dystopian future. This is rather dramatic, and not entirely Linda’s doing, but the episode treats it as such by portraying Candace as having done something wrong here. Of course, messing with the timeline isn’t a good idea ever, but just busting her brothers in general isn’t a genuinely evil thing to do. It may have led to a dystopian future in this instance, but that’s because Linda is the kind of person to overreact. It’s not Candace’s fault. It’s Linda’s. The timeline is eventually fixed so this never happened, but that doesn’t erase the knowledge that Linda could have caused that if she’d known about the boys’ creations.

Busting her brothers was always going to be a bad thing because Linda would make it a bad thing. Candace’s obsession got out of hand, but Linda’s reaction to the boys is the true big bad of the show.(Not counting the Doof and Perry plotline) I’m sure many people think that Linda would react better, and that this is out of character for her, but I don’t see it that way. You’re welcome to have your own opinions, of course, but I don’t believe anyone can be perfect. Linda’s flaws in this regards make her seem more human to me, because she has issues she needs to get over. I would have loved a movie about Linda needing to get over her issues instead of Candace needing to get over hers instead, but I did still love Candace Against the Universe. I recommend that movie, but be warned, you’re not going to get a satisfying ‘busting her brothers’ scene at the end. Honestly, I don’t think it would have been super satisfying if that had happened, since Phineas and Ferb aren’t bad kids, but I think Linda needs to be informed about them somehow, and that Phineas and Ferb need to be restrained somehow. They’re cool and all, but literal children should not be given seats on the city council. That’s irresponsible, and I believe this is an example of the boys abusing their luck powers. (Linda does have a point about their inventions being too big and dangerous, my point on her overreacting was in regards to her little dystopian future where she outlaws fun. Sure, Dr. Doof was a bit part of that dystopian future, but remember most of the rules were thought up by the Council of Parents, or ‘Concerned Parents’ or whatever, and Linda absolutely convinced everyone to vote the way they did because Linda was literally the only one who doesn’t know about Phineas and Ferb, and everyone else usually doesn’t care)

Conclusions:(it’s late and I need to go to bed)

Candace is an awesome character who I feel a lot of different things about. I pity her for the bad effect of being the third sibling who didn’t get the luck powers, and I relate to her struggles of feeling worthless because of it. But I also admire her, because even though she doesn’t have the ‘Phineas and Ferb effect’, intelligence and capability must just run in the family, because Candace does some awesome stuff. Whether she’s climbing a mountain or wrestling a crocodile, Candace demonstrates her great ability to do things well. (Guess who learned how to talk to monkeys after like a few hours of staying with them?) Candace makes bad decisions, and can be selfish, but in the end she’s a good person. In my opinion, no one is good or bad, but my example is how she was willing to let a little girl have her doll after spending the whole day looking for the doll. Candace wasn’t as obsessed with the doll as she was with busting, but spending a whole day looking for the doll just to give it up is pretty impressive, considering it was her doll in the first place, and it wasn’t her fault that her dad sold it to Dr. Doof. (Long story, and no I don’t think Vanessa is a bad person for stealing the doll from the girl, but I’m not getting into yet another character right now) Candace’s obsession isn’t even diagnosed as anything in the show, but I bet that she has some sort of mental health issue that just wasn’t addressed. I love this show lots, but some of the joking causes me to cringe, especially when Linda is gossiping about Candace to her friends.

Linda is a good character as well. She’s a good mom for the most part, my issue with her is that she doesn’t seem prepared for anything outside of the ‘ordinary’. She dismisses any signs of the boys’ inventions, and she makes jokes about Candace’s obsession with busting.

You don’t need to view these characters any differently if you don’t want to, but I think it’s useful to consider a character fully before making any generalizations. Candace isn’t just some annoying snitch, and Linda isn’t the perfect mom. But is anyone?

Everything stated in this post is my opinion. Don’t hate on me. I accept constructive criticisms, however, and I’d love to have a civilized discussion.

[geocookie21]

A Punny Death

This is my first fic! Please be kind! It’s not going to be long at all.

Warning: 2 very bad puns. And I ask for your forgiveness.

—————————————————————————————————————

The Doctor, Agent O, Graham, Ryan, Yaz and Y/N had all managed to get into Barton’s plane relatively safely. And by safely I mean running directly behind the plane and then preceding to jump onto it! Because that is something you clearly should do, according to the Doctor.

“Thanks for helping me up back there” O said as he turned to Y/N

“No problem! Im surprised I got on, I’m used to the running now but jumping into planes?” You giggled as you shared a look with O and he couldn’t help but return the action with a laugh.

“I’ve never been good at sprinting” O said continuing your conversation, despite the lack of oxygen in your lungs, he was faking it, but still.

“Forget sprinting, I don’t think I’m quite used to running at all yet”

O, yet to be revealed as the Master, had gotten quite close to Y/N in the short time of your acquaintance. While Graham may have been keeping a running commentary, Y/N was making jokes. Bad jokes. The worst jokes imaginable. A few puns that flew right over O’s head, he caught on that it was, in fact, a joke of sort when Graham groaned.

One that didn’t fly over his head, and he was ashamed that he didn’t pick up on it before he replied, was the classic

“Hey O! Wanna know how NASA plans their parties?”

“How?”

“They plan-et” you said with a grin practically splitting your face. An expression he connoted with you making a joke that you knew was awful. So he groaned.

Apparently this was the correct response as you started laughing harder than you already were. O merely rolled his eyes, trying to stay in character, yet laughed a little by instinct. They were not bad jokes, in fact he found them rather amusing, despite the awful quality.

The godawful jokes continued to be heard at random throughout their little adventure. O nearly lost it when you said “Where’s the platypus when you need him” as you were sneaking around Barton’s jet hanger.

Having gotten a little bored during his time in MI6 and having already took a liking to TV as one of his previous regenerations he decided to look into more modern day tv shows, finding Phineas and Ferb.

He was about to burst out in laughter when Graham scolded you. You pouted completely unaware of the entire groups shoulders shaking in an obvious attempt to hold in laughter, including Grahams. 

Currently, having just jumped onto a plane, the jokes have stopped, for a few minutes at least.

“What are we actually going to do?” Yaz huffed out. Seriously, ran after a plane and jumped onto it. Can you blame her for being out of breath?

“Sit tight and see where he’s going” the Doctor replied, out of breath but clearly not suffering as much as the humans were cause she’s lucky causes she’s a time lord and has done more ridiculous stuff than this.

“Amen” You exclaimed as you sat down in one of the rows of chairs...cause you know, running after a plane AND JUMPING ON IT

“What were you doing in the kitchen Y/N? The party was outside” Ryan asked you.

“Officially? Looking for anything not obvious” you replied holding your lungs

“And unofficially?” Graham asked, already dreading the answer. Everyone looked at you, waiting for, what was going to be, a horrible joke.

“Trying to steal his cutlery” you replied knowing the next line, the groans incoming.

“Y/N! Why would you do that?! What if you were caught?!” There it was, the approaching line. You knew Yaz would go all police woman on you, thus providing you the perfect opportunity...

“It was a whisk I was willing to take” you deadpanned. Slowing turning into the famous grin.

The groans from all present were worth it. You laughed for a good 5 minutes despite the pain in your lungs.

Everyone including O just smiled at you. Each thinking you were cute. Then the Doctor remembered something that O said a few minutes before...

“Never been good at sprinting?” She asked O, confused.

“I was the last one in every race at school”

“No no no, I read your file. Your a champion sprinter” She huffed out, unaware that she broke his disguise.

The air in the room (plane?) shifted. You could feel something was wrong even from where you were sitting.

You couldn’t see it but O’s innocent (attractive) face dropped. He knew his facade was no longer going to work he stood thinking for a second or two until..

“Got me” whispered words, yet louder than echos.

“Well done”

The words scaring you into sitting upright, despite the pain in your lungs. This wasn’t the O you had come to know.

“What’s going on,Doc?” Graham’s voice was barely heard as you kept you senses focused on ‘O’. More confused than afraid, afraid all the same, you started to stand when he suddenly whirled around and out his hand out towards you. His hand raised to nearly eye hight and palm facing you, as if he were a magician.

“Sit down, Love.” The spoken command sounded soft to your ears and mirrored his smile. O’s smile.

You did as you were told so he turned back to the Doctor. A small laugh, as if he’d done nothing more than a harmless prank, to her as he turned his head over his shoulders to address the others.

“Well you’d best take a look out the window”

The fam did exactly that, except for you. As you stood to look a firm hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards a tall warm body. Looking up towards their face and seeing the O that you had known, not the one nearly laughing maniacally a second ago, confused you. This person isn’t O. Whether there had ever been a real O, or whether you had met the real one was yet to be determined. But you felt that this man was the one you had gotten close too. But who was he?

“How is your house out there?” Graham’s voice broke your thoughts. Only to start about her round.

“What?!” You got as close to the window as you could, with ‘O’ still holding onto you. And Graham was right, his house was out there.

He let you go so you could look.

“A little bit wicked witch of the west” you almost laughed. You really did. Then you remembered the situation. Though O did see you smile unknowingly, he knew you were amused and if this was a different situation you would have laughed. He frowned for a second wishing that you had laughed, but he knew you were confused. Remembering that the Doctor would be equally as confused was what got him smiling again.

“But you get the gist! Maybe, maybe not”

He tuned around leaning lazily against the wall. (Hand on hip as if he didn’t know what that would do to the audience watching.)

“Come in Doctor, catch up”

“You can do it, come on” acting as if he was a tutor, helping a child.

The Doctors mouth dropped in realisation.

“Ooooh”

O looked happy at that response, maybe even excited.

“That’s my name, and that is why I chose it”

“Oh so satisfying” He smiled.

“It was a bad pun even for me” you whispered. You were too confused to even notice you spoke that out loud or that you were even smirking at the godawful pun that he made, and let’s be honest, you WOULD have made that pun.

He looked at you a smiled softly, a low laugh that he only kept going for you, even with his disguise dropped. He quickly switched his attention to the Doctor.

“Doctor I did say, look for the spymaster”

his voice started dropping lower. In time not volume. Almost as if he was becoming someone else.

“Or should I say, spy...”

“Master”

The Doctor looked horrified and he took a deep, staggered, breath.

“Hi” he smiled. His whole demeanour had changed. Even his eyes, they burned with a hated and target into the Doctor.

“You can’t be”

“Oh I can be and very much am”

“So what’s going on then, if he’s not really O” Ryan spoke up for us confused humans in the back. Literally, back of the plane.

“I’m her best enemy” He responded as he got closer to the Doctor, laughing at her face when he stood next to her.

“Call me Master”

He addressed the fam as he started speaking, but in his last word, his name, he kept his eyes locked to yours.

Words of confusion arose from the fam, the Doctor still yet to recover from the shock.

“Me and her, we go way way way back”

“I met O” The Doctor trying to figure the situation asked the Master.

“I know”

“Years ago”

“I know!” He replied to her, laughing all the while.

“But there was an O at MI6! C was talking about him” Ryan being calm enough to think the situation through. The Doctor wasn’t doing to great and honestly? Neither were you.

“Yes, a man very close to my heart”

“Well in my pocket, actually. Wanna see him? It’s always good to have a backup of ones work”

He held up a matchstick box. His eyes locked to yours again, the demonstration purely for your benefit. Not to frighten you, he knew you’d be curious as to what was going on.

“Tissue compression, it’s a classic”

You finally saw what was in the matchstick box.... it was the original O.

Your mouth dropped as you whimpered slightly at the sight. The Masters eyes softened for a moment, wondering if perhaps he shouldn’t have shown you. He focused on the others for a moment to get you out of his head and thoughts before continuing.

“Ambushed him! On his way to work for his first day, shrunk him, took his identity and set myself up in MI6”

He turned back to the fam and kept you in his sights to see your reaction. You were still shocked and afraid, so he did the only thing he could. The thing you bonded over. He tried to make a joke.

“Surprisingly good staff canteen”

If he wasn’t watching you, he wouldn’t have noticed the quick smile or the breath you took. Another time, that would have you giggling and he knew. But you weren’t as scared as you were a second ago, so it did it’s job. He smiled softly at you closed you mouth and took a breath to calm yourself.

He was going to through the small box to the side to spite the Doctor, but he didn’t want to scare you so he put it back in his pocket and faced the Doctor once more.

“I have had a lot of fun” he started clapping out of enjoyment as the Doctor ran for the cockpit. The Master turned back to the fam and grimaced before a tiny giggle left his mouth. You were about to speak when suddenly

“Where’s Barton?!” Now that got your attention

The Master turned back around as if he’d been caught stealing a cookie. He jumped around acting like he didn’t know where to go until he sat down in a plane seat a few rows in front of you as the others ran past him.

He turned to you, you still looked terrified before, hearing that the plane didn’t have a pilot didn’t help

“So how’s the inflight entertainment?” He smiled softly at you, not the cruel smile he’d been giving out. An encouraging one, perhaps concerned and kind.

“I don’t like the comedy show” you whispered. You were scared. Confused. Still had burning lungs. Worried about the Doctor and others. And on top of that making a joke with a, now know, murderer was not at the top of your priorities.

“Check the seat” he called out after controlling his laughter at your reaction. The fam panicked as he whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

“it’s going to be ok” he knew in his mind it wasn’t. You were going to die. You are a human, he has no need for humans no matter how much he enjoyed your company. You knew it too.

He smirked evily as he glanced at the cockpit.

“Cockpit bomb”

He glanced at you at your gasps of horror. Smoking as he continued.

“Short fuse. I can relate to that”

A knowing smile until he heard the sound of the sonic.

“No! Did you think I wouldn’t have thought of that?’ It’s sonic proof Doctor! Come on!”

“Dead lock sealed and I made sure, no parachutes on board”

You knew you were going to die. You wanted to get to your friends, your fam. But the Master blocked your way.

“There must be a way!”

You doubted it. You were frightened and wanted your friends. You made eye contact with Yaz and Ryan, both held their arms out for you, knowing you needed them. You pushed past the Master into their arms and whimpered a little. You tried to keep it quiet so the doctor couldn’t hear you. You didn’t want her to stress out more than she already was.

Yaz said something to the Master and he replied, but you couldn’t make it out. You were too busy being scared and keeping it quiet. You caught the end of their conversation as the Master said

“...even these guys” you saw the creatures you were investigating. And if you weren’t scared enough?

“I can’t do it! Get away!” The Doctor shouted. She shut and barricaded the door in a feeble attempt to keep the explosion away from you all. The bomb went off and she fell over.

All you could hear was screaming. The fams, the Masters, your own. Your grip on the seat that you had grabbed weakened and you fell. You never hit the ground. In the chaos you could just about notice you had been caught. It was the purple cost that gave their identity away.

“Tell me Y/N, are you mad at me?”

You held onto him, him being the only steady thing you could grab on to at the moment.

“I’ve been mad at you since the Wizard of Oz reference”

He laughed as he held you in his arms. He steadied you in a seat and left towards the Doctor and stood over her.

“One last thing, you should know in the seconds before you die. Everything that you think you know, is a lie”

He turned to face you again.

“Y/N! Do me a favour!”

“What?!”

“Don’t die!”

“That’s kinda the idea here! your not exactly helping!”

“Good little human! I’ll see you soon!”

“If I don’t die in a damn plane crash you twit!”

he laughed before he sobered, turning back to the Doctor

“Got you, finally”

And with that he vanished.

Now we just have to survive the plane crash...

I’m sure the Doc.. Annnnd she just got taken.

Just great.

[hansolmates]

vernon; blossomed (m)

feat. tattoo artist!vern x flower shop fem!reader based on nonnie’s big brain

genre/warnings: flangst, lang, wild generalizations of how tattooing works, gratuitous love for side characters, mild drinking, phineas and ferb references, mild foreplay

word count: 12k

Vernon called you his Rose. 

Not exactly his Rose, because you were definitely not anyone’s property and he wanted to give you nothing but your full autonomy, but it’s because he’s never had the chance to ask for your real name. 

But when he first spotted you in the little lavender and honey colored flower shop across the street, you were tending to the rose bushes at the front entrance. You were cutting roses and you didn’t look utterly graceful, in fact you stabbed yourself more than once with the thorns. He couldn’t help but laugh when you laughed when your co-worker had to hand you a new bandage every minute. 

He decided then that he liked you, even if it’s not wholly sexual or romantic, he liked you. 

Or maybe he just liked the idea of you, the way you’d lounge around in the canopy swing with your boots tucked under the seat, fluffy yellow socks wiggling out in the sun. Sometimes you’d read a book, sometimes for well over an hour. He liked how you soaked up the heat and created your own little world, happily unproductive. 

It was only a seven meter walk from the flower shop to the tattoo parlor, but the view from his front window required zero walking distance and a sure-fire lack of ever bumping into you. 

“Vernie’s got a crush on the Flower Girl,” Yoongi sing-songed, chugging along a box full of random-ass materials that Vernon was supposed to clean in the morning. 

Vernon scowled, and swatted away the older one’s hand when it dived in front of his face. 

Yoongi whistled like he was an old-time animation, singing the day away. “Vernie’s stalking his crush.” 

“I’m not stalking,” Vernon snapped, swiveling around in his rolling chair. “that involves shit like literally following her around,  photography, I dunno, being a weirdo?” 

“You definitely qualify for one of those.” Yoongi replied tartly, and he fought the urge to grin when Vernon finally turned back to the window, only to narrowly miss your form. The swing was now unoccupied, the only thing remnant were your working boots lined up against the entrance. “It’s been what, two weeks? Just ask her out already.” 

“You think I would’ve done that by now if there wasn’t a reason why?“ 

Soooo you were dating someone. Some super tall, super handsome guy would stroll up to the flower shop every morning, coffee in hand. Before you’d take your proffered coffee, he’d pucker his lips for a good-morning kiss in repayment. Vernon looked back to Yoongi, who was staring right back at him and confirming his suspicions that yes he was being a fucking weirdo for paying attention to things like that. 

Yoongi pressed his lips together, puffing his cheeks out in slight irritation. “So you’re stalking a taken girl,” he whistled lowly, “should I regret hiring you?” 

“Not funny.” 

“As repayment for effectively creeping me out,” The older one slipped his hand into his electric yellow windbreaker to twirl Vernon a ring of keys. “You’re closin’ up for tonight.” 

The brunette’s jaw dropped to his lap, and he got up from his spot by the window. “What? What happened to Minghao?” 

“Sick,” Yoongi shrugged. 

Closing up meant that Vernon had to stay until 12AM, at the very least. The area was off a college town and that meant a lot of young lucrative artists would stop by pretty late, hence the closing time. Usually Yoongi and Minghao were the night owls, but tonight Minghao was supposed to fly solo because Yoongi landed a last-minute recording gig. “C’mon, can I at least close early?” Vernon whined, “it’s summer. No one’s here.” 

“What, ya gotta date or something?” Yoongi smirked, swinging the entrance open. Halfway out the door, he added loftily, “don’t forget to water Patricia. It’s been two weeks.” 

The door slammed and Vernon was left alone. He spared a glance at the window, only to see that your boots were now gone from the patio and only one light was on in the shop. Vernon turned to his company for the night, their jade succulent, aptly named Patricia Planty. 

With Patricia Planty watered and a stomach full of Wendy’s nuggets in his body, Vernon busied himself up for a grueling five hours. Thankfully he brought in his laptop, as if he were expecting Yoongi to pull a fast one on him tonight. He drew some random things on his tablet: rockets, stars, the occasional squirrel, and roses. When he was tired of drawing, he’d blast the speakers off the joint and mess around with some of his music programming. When he was tired of doing both, he’d vegetate on the couch and read Reddit articles. 

It was past eleven when the first customer of the night stumbled in. Vernon fought the urge to groan, putting down the pen of his tablet on a particularly intricate constellation. 

“We’re closed!” He yelled through the office door. A white lie, but who would know? 

“Google said you were open until 12!” A voice yelled back, sounding slightly strained. 

Crap. Vernon lowered the volume and pushed away the swivel chair, swinging the office door open. With a rough clear of his throat and hoping not to look like too much of a jerk, he faced his customer, “Welcome to Nu ABO—” 

It was you. Cheeks ruddied, and your eyes glassed with a fresh glaze of tears. Your lower lip worried into a wobbly frown. Vernon’s Reebok’s glued to the concrete of the parlor, effectively stopping him in his tracks. The smell of mulch and a mixture of flowers penetrated his nostrils, but it did nothing to distract the utter hurt etched on your face. 

“Um, hey,”  his voice was gentle, yet unsure. “What are you doing here?” 

You just looked at him, incredulous. Vernon could have sworn he saw your left eyebrow twitch. Of course, you’ve never met him in your entire life, yet Vernon felt like he knew you since the beginning of your summer work. “Gettin’ a tattoo.” You replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, rubbing away a stray tear. 

He didn’t want to say it, but Vernon sighed and reasoned, “But it’s just that, ya kinda look—” 

You brushed past him, going straight into the artist room and plopping on the worn leather chair meant for customers. It was still high up because Vernon was cleaning the underside of the metal, so you had to do a little hop to get on. “I don’t care what kind of design. I looked up your Yelp online and everything looked pretty good.” And you then proceeded to unbutton the top of your blouse. 

“Holy shit,” he bounded over to you, grappling his fingers between your shirt before you could undo the rest of it. His breath was probably hot and heavy, compared to yours which was fresh from the cool summer air. Your faces were so close, closer than he ever fathomed. He didn’t think you two would meet this early in the year, as he was emotionally preparing to visit your flower shop at the end of the month, making up some spiel on how he needed to purchase real roses to replicate a commission. Not now. Now was a spontaneous episode, where he was trying to refasten your shirt and ignore the petal pink lace of your bra baiting his eyes. 

When he sensed that you would in fact, stop taking your shirt off, he backed up. “It’s just that, after eleven we don’t really apply tattoos. We just take consultations.” He tried to sound defeated, rubbing the back of his neck. Again, another lie. But Vernon wasn’t about to ink you on the spot, especially when you looked like this. 

“Is it because I’m upset?” You cried, “because I assure you, I’m in the right mind!” 

He winced, lolling his head back and forth. “That’s debatable.” 

You frowned, “C’mon, I have money. Just do me this one solid.” 

“What? No, you don’t even know what you want!” Vernon was exasperated. Not that he imagined the first time meeting you would be a walk in the park, but at the same time he wasn’t expecting to argue with you. 

"Don’t you want to be part of my spontaneous young life? Give me a tattoo that I’ll think about with my children 30 years from now?” He would laugh if you didn’t look like you were crying a river ten minutes ago. “As long as it’s not a tramp stamp, because I don’t think I can pull that off—" 

"Did you break up with your boyfriend or something?” Vernon blurted out before he could regret it. 

Your face morphed into something Vernon couldn’t understand. Pain, for sure. But a sort of relief knowing that you didn’t have to hide it. “Damn,” you give him a tired smile, “does the whole town know or something?" 

You cried again. This time, Vernon reacted quicker. Pulling out a Wendy’s napkin from his flannel pocket, he proffered it to you. He was thankful you didn’t question whether it was clean or not (it was!) and you proceeded to cover your snot and tears all over it. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" 

You sniffled and blew a particularly large chunk of snot before you shook your head. 

"Do you… want fries?” He gestured to the small table in the room, which had some leftover fries from his combo. “I can heat ‘em up in the microwave." 

Due to the fact that you ran out of tissue room, you rubbed your face with the entirety of your sleeve. You peeked out mid-rub, and replied with a soft, "hell yeah I do." 

His heart twitched. Even betwixt your teary expression, you were so freakin’ cute. He shuffled back to the office, nuking the leftovers in the microwave until they were piping hot. Vernon waited a bit for them to get cool, and fiddled with the music so a soft R&B playlist bounced off the walls. He couldn’t believe you were here. Scratch that, he could, because you were bound to run into him one day due to pure proximity. 

But he didn’t imagine you’d be plopped in his artist room at 11:32, bleary eyed and shoving potatoes in your mouth. 

Vernon busied himself with his phone, and typed a hasty you wouldn’t believe what just happened… to the employee group chat. 

[June 11, 11:33PM]

Bo$$ man: dont tell me u put aluminum in the microwave AGAIN

Hao hao: the chinese mafia came for me, didnt they? good thing I called out 

Jeonghan is a prick: use your resources! sharp items are everywhere :) emergency money is under Patricia’s table

Bernie: tf is wrong w all of you 

Bernie: SHES HEREEEEEE

"M'sorry,” you mumbled with a mouthful of fries, breaking Vernon from his mid-text crisis. He felt his phone buzzing like hell as he shoved it in his pocket, but ignored it for the sake of you. Your previous high of emotions has long worn off, and now you were looking a little embarrassed as you fixed your gaze on the empty container of fries. Your face is blotchy and red, and you’re especially puffy due to the salt you just consumed. “I should go home." 

He didn’t want to be intrusive, but the look on your face showed it was clear that you didn’t want to go home just yet. Drumming his fingers against the metal table, he casually suggested, "Why don’t I do your back?" 

You looked at him like he was crazy. "You still wanna tattoo me? After I cried like an idiot and ate your fries?" 

"You’re not an idiot for being upset. And I offered you my fries.” He pulled out an ink canister, and a thin needle. “This is temporary ink we use to practice, or for customers who wanna test out the look. Lasts one to two weeks. And y'know, it’s a nice distraction." 

You looked skeptical, unsure of his kindness. "Why my back?" 

He shrugged, "It’s the biggest canvas. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to look at it." 

Still, you’re not convinced. There was something strange about him, something almost too sweet. While your schema may be marred by television and movies, the man in front of you didn’t seem like he quite fit into this little shack. He’s full of color, in his eyes and in his stature, his words clean and pure as he tries to soothe your aching heart. And as much as you tried not to check him out, you spotted no tattoos on any viewable part of his body. 

"And it’s kind of cathartic, really.” He watched your lips quirk up in a smile at the word usage. Not only sweet, but probably smart. Your first smile all night. Cheeks effortlessly heated, he continued, “you kinda just let go into the feeling. And it’s always fun to not know what’s been drawn until the very end." 

You’re curious. There’s excitement in your vision as he gestured to the available cot, inviting you. "Alright. Ink me up." 

Vernon grinned, and started preparing the workspace. Handing you a medical gown, he quickly shuffled away to prepare the ink and needles. He didn’t really work with the clients as deeply as this, he was really just a glorified secretary that took care of the consultation. While he washed his hands, he heard the faint rustle of fabric, definitely your shirt and bra. He turned up the temperature of the water, acutely aware of how hot his hands were getting. 

"Um,” your voice is muffled from being pressed up against the cot, your face presumably propped with pillows. “So are you Yoongi?" 

"Nah, I’m Vernon.” He wheeled over a cart full of supplies, the metal clanging against the concrete. “’M usually the guy who wipes the sweat off his brow." 

You hummed your own name in response, resting your cheek in the plushness of the cotton pillow. There’s a number of sounds paired with the R&B in the background. The smack of Vernon putting on gloves, the click of the needles and the slickness of the balm Vernon has applied on your back. His touch was warm, as his palm crescents across your back to soothe the balm into your skin. He then wiped it down with a paper towel until your skin was smooth and dry. 

"Any ideas yet?” He asked, and from the corner of your eye you see him switch out a needle for a new ink pen. 

“Maybe, stars?” Your voice is muffled against the cushions, as you’re hugging them close to your body. “And maybe something inspired by Spiderman? I liked that new one with Miles, he’s a cool one." 

You could hear the smile in his voice, "I liked that one, too." 

You stuff your own smile in your pillow, how embarrassing could it be that this stranger can make you feel better so fast? Mingyu would be groveling if he saw you now, topless, letting a man ink you up in however way he wished. "Will it hurt?" 

He chuckled at that, "Nah. The ink will sit on top and sink in, I barely have to apply any pressure. Just relax." 

Under the discretion of Vernon, who offered you fries and liked Spiderman, you relaxed. The first stroke of the needle and you were a goner. You closed your eyes and let him do his thing, You couldn’t tell what exactly was going on through his mind as he was painting your back, but you could tell his art was rather cacophonous: stiff pokes here and there, smooth strokes, and wide breaths of ink staining your back. The ink melted into your skin, bonding to your cells under Vernon’s careful control. 

It was almost 1AM when he finished. He tapped your back, urging you up. Tired, and slightly dazed, you sat up. You realized a little too late that you’re only wearing a thin hospital gown, the straps having fallen midway through the process. The air was cool against your skin. 

Vernon totally would’ve gotten a complete view of your sideboob if he wasn’t blushing like a maniac and looking away, and you respected that. His arm is punched out, fisting your button down. You hastily snatched it away, and turned around in order to look decent. 

“The ink won’t show up fully for another six hours, so until then let me know how you like it.” 

“Thank you so much,” you smiled gratefully as you do the last button of your blouse, and pulled out your phone. “Do you accept Venmo or Cashapp?” 

“Oh, yeah.” He accepted the proffered device, and put in the necessary charges. 

Once he gave back your phone, you added a sizable tip to the price he typed up. “The time really flew by,” you noted the time on the corner of your phone, 1:07. “It was really, an experience like you said.” 

He shrugged, and threw you an easy smile. “I try.” 

"Can I get a real tattoo from you someday? Y'know, when I’m ready?" 

"Ah, no. I’m not really under the apprenticeship.” He looked bashful when he said it, as if he were caught doing something wrong. “I just work here for the part time money. I do art on the side, though.” 

You had the urge to ask what he doesn’t do on the side, but it was late and you were probably holding up the poor guy for your trivial questions. “Regardless, I’m still thankful it was you that did this for me.” 

In three strides, he opened the small door for you. “My pleasure. Have a good night. Or, morning. Or if you’re one of those people who don’t consider it morning unless it’s light out, then good night?” 

“Good night,” you giggled, “get home safely.” 

“You too.” 

The screen door slammed shut behind you, along with the main door. Your car is parked in the grass patching of the flower shop. You jogged over, and the summer air made you shiver, your back still raw and warm under Vernon’s touch. 

You couldn’t wait until the flower shop closed. 

If Wonwoo noticed that you moved the porch swing relative to the placement of Nu ABO, he hasn’t brought it up. You weren’t spying on Vernon, no. But your skin was starting to itch with curiosity and in your haste to leave last night, you didn’t even ask what he designed on your back. 

“Are you stalking the tattoo guy?” 

Despite the voice being petal soft, you flinched. Assistant Manager Joshua Hong with a bouquet of boat lilies, was accusing you of stalking. His Converse tapped rhythmically against the wood paneling, looking down at you like a guilty child.  

“What?” you floundered, waving around the florist magazine in your hands. “Josh, I’m studying! And the sun was in my face so I moved the swing.” 

“You’re studying,” Joshua flickered his eyes to the run down shack across the road. “The tattoo guy?” 

“I already said I wasn’t!” 

“Then you’re telling me you spent all last night doing that,” he reached over to tug at your starched work collar, “all by yourself?” 

Your hand flew to your neck, as if you were trying to hide Vernon’s hard work. “I just wanna see what he did, all right? And I’m trying to be very patient until closing because if Wonwoo sees me going there,” you jerked a head none-too-gracefully at the direction of the parlor, “he’s gonna tell you-know-who.” 

Joshua frowned, because he already knew. After all, he stayed in the back room with you all last night, wiping away your tears. “Well, whoever did it is truly an artist,” he said genuinely, “it’s beautiful.” 

Joshua finally left you alone, and you suddenly felt emptier than before. Sure, the breakup with Mingyu was conventionally bad, but why were you so conflicted with your feelings? You didn’t want Mingyu to know you were hanging out with other guys, but you wanted to let go of him. Maybe you were trying too hard too fast. 

But Vernon made everything so, so easy. 

No, you are not letting him be a rebound. The inner conflict in your head was giving you a massive headache, you couldn’t tell if the vibes you were feeling last night were because of the recent breakup or just an authentic spark. 

The storm door shuttered boldly, and you jumped. Wonwoo stepped out, and gave you a weird look. “You alright?” 

“Me? Yeah, fine.” You gripped the collar of your shirt and pretended to fasten the buttons. 

He was unconvinced, either that or the pinched look he was sporting was an indicator of a bad day. “Listen, I know things are gonna be weird because my best friend is your, y’know,” he trailed off, painfully trudging through this conversation as easily as trudging through quicksand. “He’s gonna stop by a couple more times during the week, doing me a few errands. So if you wanna take the week off, recalibrate before the the month ends, just let me know. ” 

“Won, please,” you wanted this to end, “we don’t have to talk about this, alright?” 

He awkwardly twirled around his car keys. “Alright.” As simple as that, he threw himself in his sedan and drove off, dirt brushing the pavement. 

You glared at the dust cloud until his car was far from your sights, the mustard color blinding your vision. “Honestly,” you said to yourself, finally hopping off your swing into the direction of the shack, “he thinks I’m five and never experienced heartbreak.” 

“Welcome to Nu ABO!” this voice was different, and you slowed your steps. It doesn’t quite have the husk that Vernon’s voice held, but definitely matched the energy. The boy stepped out, and his eyes sparkled in recognition. “Flower Girll,” he said to himself, and you suddenly felt like you got caught, “I don’t think we’ve met before.” 

"We haven’t,” you replied warily at the pet name, “where’s Vernon?" 

"Oh, he’s around.” The guy waved noncommittally to the air in the room, crouching his head to look down at you. He stuffed his hands in his black overalls, which covered a painfully bright rainbow tye-dye tee. “Curious to see Vern’s ink though. He’s only ever done small stuff.” 

“I thought he wasn’t an apprentice.” 

 He flicked his wrist around to show you a beautiful line of Chinese calligraphy. "Keep the secret between us, ‘kay?” He winked. 

“Minghao, leave her alone.” Vernon stepped out of the small bathroom hidden in the artist room, a white towel behind his neck. You took in his disheveled appearance. His face was red from washing his face, and he wore the same clothes from yesterday. “Hey.” He said. 

“Hi,” you replied, “did you sleep here last night?" 

"Uh, yeah.” Vernon rubbed at his neck again, and stuffed the towel in his backpack. “I usually do the morning and afternoon shifts, I covered for this guy last night,” he jabbed his fist in Minghao’s shoulder, “but still had to do my day shift.” 

“So,” Minghao rocked back and forth in his boots, “why are you here?” 

You suddenly felt self-conscious, and gripped your phone between your two palms. A little part of you was disappointed that Vernon was not alone, but another part of you was relieved. It helped slow down the pace of your feelings (feelings?) that was heading in a direction you were not anticipating. “I wanted to say thank you again for last night.” You coughed, and Minghao grinned wider at your explanation. “And I was wondering if you could take a picture of my back? I haven’t had a chance to look at it.” 

He beamed, and you could tell he was happy that you wanted to document his work. “Oh, of course! I completely forgot last night.” 

Vernon moved to grab your phone, but Minghao swiped a hand in front of him. “Can I take your photo?” He asked you, although the look in his eyes said that you didn’t have much of a choice. 

Your cheeks burned at the sudden intrusion. “Huh?” 

“I mean, have you seen this guy’s Insta?” Minghao scoffed, albeit playfully as Vernon mirrored your flush. 

“What are you talking about?” Vernon exclaimed, thoroughly insulted, “my profile is tastefully abstract.” 

“It looks like it was tastefully done by a three year old.” Minghao pulled out his iPhone, and adjusted the filters. “I’m doing you a favor here, Flower Girl.” 

You looked warily at Vernon, who slumped in defeat, “If you’re going for that e-girl vibe, I guess Hao’s a better photographer.” 

“Better than your pictures coming out blurry.” Minghao shot back, holding the camera to your face. “There’s no light in here,” Minghao glared at the singular window in their tiny studio, the sill decorated with a single jade succulent. “Got any ideas?" 

Vernon shrugged, "You said I have the taste of a three year old, so." 

With Wonwoo gone for the day, you realized that you did have an idea of where you could take a tasteful picture. The thrill excited and terrified you. You only wanted a simple picture to see what it looked like, but Minghao looked as equally as excited to see your ink. Maybe it was the fact that the art was fleeting or that Vernon was really that talented, but it encouraged you to offer the setting up.

"I think our greenhouse has plenty of light,” you gestured out the studio’s only window, which was in perfect view of the flower shop. “We should be closing up soon, so it’s free." 

Minghao nodded approvingly, "We can try." 

And with a hasty "be back @ 4:20!” sign taped on the front door to Nu ABO, the three of them walked across the street to the greenhouse. 

You went in first, nearly bumping into Joshua who was bent over, pot in hand. 

“Hey Josh,” you grabbed the keys from the front desk, “borrowing the greenhouse." 

"Hey Josh,” Minghao and Vernon mimicked, who found it amusing that you just brushed by without an introduction. 

You rolled your eyes, hearing them exchange pleasantries and bro fists. The plexiglass doors to the greenhouse unlocked with a turn of your key, the smell of heat and grassy rain hitting your nostrils. Joshua placed the pot somewhere, following suit as the boys were right behind you. 

“Awesome,” Minghao exhaled, stepping further into the greenhouse. It was a small one, but comfortable enough for a couple patrons to browse around. “I’m gonna move around some plants if that’s okay, I gotta vision.” 

Joshua looked a little frazzled watching Minghao talk to himself and start moving the settings around (“The hydrangeas don’t go there, are you crazy?”) and started helping Minghao move the pots and placements around. You and Vernon hung around the entrance, giggling to yourselves. 

You tried to bump his shoulder, which didn’t even reach his. “So, what’s your Insta handle?” 

He quirked his brows at that, “Why, so you can judge my aesthetic too?” 

“No,” you replied, faking your shock. “I would never insult your taste!” 

With a roll of his eyes he said, “Speaking of taste, since your shift is over and my shift is over,” Vernon rocked back and forth on his feet. “Wanna grab a bite?” 

Something’s fluttering in your stomach, and you stomp it down. It’s an innocent invite, yes. Unfortunately it was not-so-innocent in your twisted mind knowing that you are still fresh from a breakup, yet your backed is marked with Vernon’s work. “You must be tired though,” you tried to reason, “you should get some rest, I don’t wanna bother you.” 

“Not a bother,” he said immediately, “besides, I wanna ask you something.” 

That got you curious. Before you had a chance to ask, Minghao was ushering you over, telling you to stand in front of a bundle of orchids. They’ve bloomed a Canary yellow, encasing you in a golden ring of flowers overlooking the terrace. The new friend has gestured for you to undo your shirt and he turned away in respect. It’s different with an audience and an expectation.  You made haste to undo the buttons of your blouse, then your bra, throwing it aside. You felt the warm, moist air kiss your back, and you heard a low whistle coming from Minghao. 

“Beautiful,” Minghao exhaled, “Vern, you’ve outdone yourself." 

Beautiful. Vernon made you beautiful.

Your body was simmering, and you could do nothing as you let Minghao photograph you. You focused your eyes on a puddle dripping from a faucet in front of you, counting the seconds between each droplet. 

“And, done.” 

You shoved on your clothes, and felt extra awkward as you fumbled to reach for the straps of your bra. You nearly slipped on the puddle as you walked back to the boys, who were busy over Minghao’s shoulder. 

“Super awesome,” Minghao handed you the phone brightly, “so much texture and feeling.” 

The screen showed a halo of foliage that surrounded your bare back, blush orchids kissing the frame with color. Your work shirt bundled under your hips, and fell under your elbows to reveal a city sky. You were breathless, zooming in to capture every detail of the ink. A navy sky, blanketing buildings across your back in a diagonal, splaying from the bottom right to the top left. On the bottom, skyscrapers reaching for the stars. 

If you zoomed in enough, you could tell that the stars were shaped like roses. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve said thank you in the past two days,” you started, causing Vernon to grin widely. “But thank you, I’ve never felt so beautiful.” 

Vernon scoffed, “I didn’t do anything, I’ve only enhanced your beauty. That’s our shtick.” 

You handed Minghao back your phone and thanked him. He then rushed off, saying he had to stay at the parlor since Yoongi was coming soon. Immediately, Joshua began putting back the plants in their rightful places. You and Vernon followed suit, starting with the smaller ones. 

“So,” Vernon picked up a tray of succulents, “are we still on for dinner?” 

Wide-eyed Joshua crept in-between the foliage, laughably appearing under a series of hanging plants like a madman. “Dinner?” he asked, looking between you two. 

“Yeah man,” Vernon reached to pull Joshua away from the plants, “wanna come?” 

Simultaneously disappointed and relieved, you let out a subconscious exhale. Joshua was coming, which meant that there would be no possibility for feeling weird (or catching feels), being awkward or fighting any oncoming feelings with Vernon. 

"On Thursdays there’s this really good half-off sushi deal by my place. We can take out and eat at my apartment?” Joshua’s kindness was palpable at the offering of his home, and the both of you smiled gratefully.

Not more than two hours later, the three of you are bundled away in Joshua’s two-room, empty boxes of carryout stacked high. The television was playing reruns of Full House, the only source of light in the dim space. 

“Are you gonna go home soon?” Vernon asked, and turned his head to the corner of the room. Joshua is cuddled up in the single couch, tucked in a wearable blanket with the armholes. 

You shrugged, “I dunno. Usually I crash here for sushi nights,” you patted the couch lovingly, “This is my second bed.” 

Vernon chuckled, tucking his feet under his thighs. It made him look impossibly small in comparison to how tall and lanky he actually was.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” 

Vernon looked between his legs, as if he were trying to piece his words together. “Long story short, I got waitlisted at my top graduate school option,” he then pulled up his phone, revealing the picture of your back that was taken that afternoon, “but I was thinking that if I made a portfolio of this kind of art, it would really tip my application over the edge. Originally I was thinking of just sending my usual art, but it just popped in my head today while we were doing it.” He looked up through his eyelashes, wisps of copper looking expectantly at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you be my canvas?”  

“Live art,” you surmised, “honestly, I’m honored that you would want me to be a part of something so big. You think I’m that good?” 

No, you weren’t doubting Vernon’s art one bit. The fact that your back would be out on display for a bunch of strangers was unnerving, to say the least. 

“Are you kidding?” Vernon zoomed out of the image, revealing the curve of your back and the generation of life reflected in the greenhouse. “This is wicked. You’re stunning. We’d make a great team!” 

You felt your body heat at the statement. His presence was almost too refreshing, and you wanted to return the favor of helping you out last night. 

“Lucky for you,” you shot a quick text to Wonwoo, “I’ve planned to take this week off.” 

Over the course of the week Vernon wanted to do an artistic timeline of sorts, adding and retouching the already existing ink on your back until the canvas was full. It felt fulfilling, letting yourself become a vessel of success for someone. The following day, Vernon shot you a text revealing his portfolio, and said how excited he was to see you. 

You met in the shack after his shift, and Vernon let you into the office and locked the door. You can hear the rap being played in the artist room where Minghao and Yoongi were working with a client.

The artist was muttering to himself as he invited you to sit at the couch. Something about whether he wanted to start from the “top-down” or “bottom-up.” Instead of contributing to his madness, you turned away from him and started shedding your shirt. Today was a plain cotton shirt, and you shucked it off and balled it in your arms. 

No less than five seconds was Vernon’s hands on your back, and despite the warmth radiating from his fingertips, you couldn’t help but shiver. Vernon had explained that while he did a large portion of your back the first time, there was still room for growth and he wanted your back filled by the end of the week. 

“Do you mind if I,” his hand hovered over your bra. 

You shook your head, and with his thumb and forefinger he flicked off both your bra straps with ease. Your hands flooded themselves in the fabric of your t-shirt, which silently accepted your death grip. 

“Sorry, do you feel weird?” He definitely sensed your lack of vocality, and put one strap back in case. 

“I’m fine,” your voice is light, what else could you say? 

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and resumed his work. 

You opt to take in the sounds. Minghao laughed about something in the other room, coupled with the zing of the needle. The music pulled to a stop and boomeranged back into a smoother arrangement. 

“I think we’ll start from the bottom-up and build from there,” he then placed his hands around your waist, poking at the dive between your waist and your bottom. 

There’s an unmistakable heat that pooled within you, which caused you to wring your shirt harder. It was going to be a long week. 

By Wednesday, he was in your apartment, working on the sides of your waist. The day after every session, Vernon would take a picture of yesterday’s work and show it to you. A gummy grin would always take over his face, either proud of himself or happy that you loved the new addition. 

Despite the fact that the only thing covering your body was a thin gown medical taken from the shop, every pore of your body felt unbelievably hot. You really shouldn’t be mixing alcohol on a Wednesday night, but Vernon was excited that he was halfway done with the project and it was time to be “poppin’ bottles.” 

You felt a little drowsy as a result of that, but nothing terrible. Like he said, the feeling was cathartic. 

“Aren’t you drunk too?” you murmured into your navy blue whale plush, “what if you accidentally stab me?” 

Vernon laughed, and it shook the couch. You couldn’t see his face as he sat on the floor, getting in the crevices of your skin. He poked at your skin a little harder than usual, as if he were testing the possibility. “That’d still take a lot of strength.” 

“You’d be surprised,” you sighed, “those little sticks florists use to keep the babies upright? Flat as a thumb and I still manage to impale tomatoes with them.” He doesn’t respond to that, and you’re left drowning in your own answer. You wondered if he truly thought you were a crazy tomato-killer, or was concentrated on detailing a particular patch of skin. “Can I tell you a secret?” you blurted, “honestly, I think flowers are beautiful, but I really hate working at the florist. The only reason I’m doing it is because Joshua really needed the help and he knew I wasn’t going to do shit until my city job starts in September.” 

“Huh,” Vernon stopped, resting the heel of his hand on your back. “That’s funny. Explains all the cursing when you’re cutting roses outside.” 

“You’ve watched me outside?” you grinned into your cushion, “creepy much?” 

“Do you wanna know a secret?” Vernon blurted, evading your question with one of his own, “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since you came by in May.” 

You tensed, and if Vernon noticed, he didn’t react. He kept on doing his business, marking your back with baby’s breath. It had to be the alcohol talking. If he drank at all, you couldn’t even tell because you couldn’t get up and he was strikingly coherent. All this time, and you didn’t even notice? 

“You don’t have to answer,” he said, as if he knew you were strung speechless. “I just, wanted to say it. We’re cool.” 

And you agreed, pretending to fall asleep. 

Friday was around the corner before you knew it, and Vernon wanted to photograph the final piece where it all started. The greenhouse was devoid of human life at the crack of dawn, unless you counted Joshua who was asleep on the counter because he was the only one with a key that knew of your recent escapades with Vernon. 

Vernon was just as tired as you are, but he was adamant about having the photo taken at dawn, as the first picture was taken in the late day. There was some contrived symbolism attached to it that you didn’t really understand, but you trusted his vision. Besides, your panda eyes wouldn’t be revealed in the photo, so you could master the art of sleeping upright while he took photos. 

“Alright,” Vernon set up his camera. He was dressed in a university zip up and matching sweatpants, like he just rolled out of bed. “Everything’s set up, whenever you’re ready.” 

Likewise with you, and you pulled off your hoodie, not bothering with a bra. Despite the fact that the room was temperature controlled, the cold morning air still managed to worm its way to your bare top. You quickly rubbed down your gooseflesh with your palms.  

You two engaged in a comfortable silence as you tested out your poses and he adjusted his frame. After a couple of practice shots, the air seemed calmer.

“Cold?” Vernon asked casually.

“Anything that isn’t under the sheets of my bed is cold as hell,” you muttered, trailing your fingers delicately across your waist. 

“That’s a nice pose,” Vernon said to himself, “we’re almost done. Then you can go to bed for the rest of your day. Unless you’re down for breakfast?" 

You two still haven’t spoken about his little confession the other day, but in all honesty there was no reason to bring it up. Your lives were going in different directions, and you knew Vernon deserved more than a halfhearted summer fling. 

"I think I’m down for bed and breakfast,” you replied wryly. 

“Smart girl,” Vernon chuckled, “can you change your pose for me? Like, pretend that you’re stretching.” 

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, so you ended up flexing your arms in different directions. 

“No, we’re not doing yoga.” He let his camera swing around his neck as he rushed over to you. The sun was a soft white, the antithesis of golden hour as you two rushed to make the magic happen. He grabbed your arms from behind, twisting the left wris in an unusual angle. 

"Ah, Vernon!” You jerked around to face him, now fully awake. “I’m not a Barbie doll, you can’t just move me like that." 

Vernon doesn’t respond. He let go of you as soon as you screamed, eyes blown wide and pupils a thick black. His stare is frozen to yours, and his hand is in mid-air, a centimeter away from your bare breasts. 

"Oh,” you said, “did I whack you with my boob when I turned?" 

"Yeah, you boobed me.” Vernon looked afraid to stare anywhere but your face. “I’m so sorry." 

"It’s okay,” you bit the inside of your lip, “I don’t mind if you touch me there." 

Now, Vernon looked terrified. 

It’s been a long week. A long, surreal week. You wanted to tell Vernon about your conflicted feelings, you wanted to ask about his little crush, and what on earth did he find appealing about you. You wanted to tell him how much you trusted him with your body, and how you wanted him to do more to you than just ink. 

It’s then, the gaping boy shook himself together. His hands encircled your neck, haloing at the finishing piece of his work, an echelon moon. Vernon’s fingers trailed to cup your face, and you felt your whole body warm in anticipation. Patient, you waited for his carmine eyes to flutter shut, and you smiled, finally closing yours—

"The fuck is this?" 

In an instant, the air was sucked out of you like a blackhole, and Vernon immediately shielded you, throwing his jacket across you like a towel. 

"Mingyu,” you said shakily, clutching the cotton coat tighter around your form. 

It’s then that a no-longer bleary-eyed Joshua stumbled into the greenhouse, seconds too late. 

Mingyu threw down the sack of fertilizer he hauled on his back, black dirt smattering the floor.  “Its been barely a week and you’re fucking someone in the greenhouse, of all places?” Mingyu was angry, plain and simple. “I thought we agreed on a break." 

"You agreed on a break,” your thighs were numb from leaning on them, but Vernon’s hand on your back encouraged you to get on your feet. “I agreed that two years was too long to wait." 

"And who are you?” Mingyu squinted his eyes at Vernon.

“He’s none of your business,” you stepped in front of him, tugging his hoodie  closer around your frame. 

Mingyu’s face fell in realization, and he looked between you two with forlornness that made your stomach churn. “C’mon baby,” your nails embedded themselves in your palm at the jab, “can we go outside and talk about this?” 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” your voice was paper thin, but loud enough for Mingyu to hear across the room, “I’d prefer you leave us alone, and do not talk to me ever again.” 

It took all your composure to turn around, and you glared a hole into Vernon’s chest. You felt your body bleed goosebumps around your arms and legs, not out of weather, but out of anxiety. You hugged yourself to shut the prickly feeling down. You heard Joshua do the only helpful thing this morning and it’s his soft utterances that finally pulled Mingyu out of the greenhouse. ,

What’s left is the drip of the hose, and the two of you, unmoved.

Thankful for the silence, you looked up at your companion, who was speechless. Vernon’s lower lip was puckered out slightly, face contorted as if to say I’m sorry, that kinda sucked. The tell-tale signs of emotional overload began to prick at your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” you wiped your face. Since when did you start crying? “I’m so sorry that I let all of this happen, and I let myself let this happen, and I’m such a mess and I’ve been trying to hide it all this time, but I’m selfish and I just wanted to see what would turn out of it.” 

“What are you apologizing for?” Vernon tried to lighten up the mood, and offered you an easy smile and reached for a hug.

“I’m sorry because I don’t know if I like you or not!” you outburst, and pushed him out of arm’s reach. “I feel so fucking guilty I just got out of a relationship and I can’t tell if I like you or I like your attention, honestly. And it isn’t fair because you’re just so sweet and kind and easy to love. Either way at the end of the summer I’m moving into the city for my full-time job. And I, I, I don’t know!” 

Vernon forced his way into your space, barely a foot apart. He didn’t touch you, but his warmth still emanated from the jacket you were wearing. He didn’t seem upset, then again you were probably upset enough for the both of you. 

“Hey, I offered to do your back because I knew you needed a distraction,” Vernon said softly, “no strings attached, ever. You do you, right? Focus on yourself.” 

You wished he was mean about this. It would’ve made it easier. “What if this is the last time we talk? What if I want to ignore you for the rest of the summer?” you murmured, already knowing you. should enjoy these final moments. 

“We’ll live,” he shrugged, and finally broke the space between you. His lips planted themselves between your forehead, melting away the lines that marred your brows apart, “and we’ll heal.”

The city was daring. The city was unforgiving. 

You tugged your scarf closer around your neck, which constricted your airflow but also prevented any possible windchill from slicing your neck. In your other hand you were hauling a week’s worth of work in a luggage that had once packed your things in August and sent you to this very career path. 

As much as you loved your new life, you wished things would be a little more boundless. The box of your workspace, the box of the elevator, and the box of your goshiwon apartment were starting to feel particularly stifling this weekend. 

It was Friday (or FriYay, as your co-workers dubbed) and that meant a weekend vegging out with a comfort meal and a new movie. There was a Burger King and a Gongcha under your apartment complex, both calling your name. 

Boba and burgers, the perfect way to end a week. 

You munched on your fries as you scanned the Gongcha menu, craving something sweet to contrast with your salty meal. 

It is then a low, sultry whisper sauntered in your direction (in a Gongcha, with children) and you almost choked on your fry. “I would know that back anywhere,” the offender drawled. 

What a strange pick-up line. The paper bag crinkled in your grip, and you turn around to see a familiar perky face in a scarlet Adidas tracksuit. Of all the places, he was here. 

“Hey, Flower Girl.” Minghao greeted, wiggling his fingers in a wave. He was on a tall stool, long legs splayed out and a cup of oolong milk tea hung lazily in his grip. His cup was at least 50% ice, and he was shaking the cup like a rattle every ten seconds.

“Normally, people would start with a simple hello,” you replied wryly, ushering him over to wait with you in line. 

“Normally,” Minghao shrugged, and slipped an arm around your shoulders as if you were long lost friends, “how have you been doing? Planting gardens for the spring?” 

“Please,” you scoffed. To Joshua and Wonwoo’s chagrin, you’ve forgotten a lot since the summer. “I can’t even make a corsage anymore, my brain’s on overload. What about you?” 

It looked like he was waiting for you to ask that. You barely got your order in before he started spitting out his story. “Didn’t you hear?” Obviously you didn’t, and he didn’t give you a chance to answer. “Two letters. RM.” Again, nothing. “The RM? The hottest rapper in Korea? Anyway, he was one of our clients in August—he got a sick design of a koala and an alpaca, cooler than you think—and gave us a massive tip on his Instagram story. We were famous overnight! We were getting crazy clients left and right—fuckin’ Sana wanted a little heart on her sternum, hottest thing.” 

“So you were able to relocate the parlor to the city?” 

“The big push was when Yoongi dropped RM his demo,” he shook his cup furiously, ice clanging, as if he never got tired of this story. “Like, I didn’t even know they were texting! I’ve been running the parlor mostly, I’ve always wanted to live in the city, but RM funded a lot of it and is helping Yoongi make his mix.”

In the back of your head, the question of an aspiring grad student was niggling in your brain, but you pushed it down. “So, if Yoongi’s working on his demo and you’re supposed to be running the parlor, why aren’t you there now?” you asked.

He stared at you as if it were the most obvious choice. “Because I’m here, drinking boba with you.” Minghao then grabbed your finished drink from the employee’s hand, ushering you out the door. “And now you’re going to follow me, because my break was over fifteen minutes ago.” 

“What?” 

“I have your boba,” he’s already out the door, waving your precious beverage like a fish to its line. “Hurry up, now I’m sixteen minutes late!” 

You groaned, lugging your suitcase full of work and now cold french fries back into the freezing weather. The wheels of your suitcase are cracking in exhaustion, mirroring yours. You just wanted your damn milk tea, hot fries, and a Netflix catch-up. What was the point of following Minghao to Nu ABO, when there was no reason to be there other than … 

“Oof!” your face slammed into Minghao’s back. The light was red. “Did Vernon move here too?” 

“Duh, who else would be covering for me?” 

“You’re trying to set me up!” You cried in betrayal, jabbing him in chest with your finger. “Y'know what, I’m just going to get another boba. You keep that.”

You two glared at each other. Minghao looked relentless, ignoring whoever was bumping into him on the streets. His eyes suddenly glinted to your rolling luggage, and he snatched it from your grip, running into the streets. 

“Can’t replace your work, right?” He laughed, forcing you to chase him down the block.

You felt sweat start to develop on your back, contrasting with the icy weather. Your work blazer and pinstripe loafers were not suited for vigorous activity. Minghao has an unfair advantage, being tall and athletic, and you had just finished half a bag of Burger King. Damn him. 

Minghao stopped in front of a sunken in building, with stairs leading downwards to a neon-lit parlor with the name glittering in electric periwinkle font. Flustered, you gasp at the cold air, finally able to stop. Despite having lost your breath ten meters ago, you managed to tell Minghao you’re proud that they have a real parlor. 

Your heart was beating in your ears, and you can’t tell whether it was because you haven’t worked out in months, or because Vernon was behind that door. 

Minghao dumped your luggage behind the reception area, and went straight into the artist room. This new parlor was much bigger, so when Minghao disappeared into a hallway he was out of your sight. You wait around, letting yourself sink into the familiar hip hop playlist. There are pictures littering the walls, all covered with a clean black frame. You see Yoongi and the supposed RM, sporting his koala and alpaca ink (which actually did look sick) and some photos of Minghao’s work, all of his designs being simultaneously colorful and graceful. 

It’s then in the epicenter of this wall is a long black frame that cut across the horizon, seven images of a woman with flowers and stars inking her back. 

Your back. 

“Beautiful, right? I’m sure it takes you back.” Minghao was over your shoulder, flicking his fingers between the photos. “Lots of customers have requested these designs. He never makes them the same way, though.”

Instead of answering, you followed Minghao down the hallway and into the artist room. Vernon had just finished with a client. Poking in head first, you saw him ticking off protocol off a printed list, speaking concisely. The client was listening intently, and you see he has an arm sleeve with peonies. It’s then he noticed Minghao intruding once more, and frowned. 

“Dude, you got milk tea without me?” Vernon said, affronted. 

“Ya didn’t ask.” Minghao vigorously shook the ice in your tea like a baby rattle. 

“You didn’t mention it, therefore I couldn’t have asked.” 

“You’re so smart, Hannie,” he beamed at him like a proud parent complimenting his son, “that’s why he’s going to grad school.” 

You let yourself in fully, and you felt shy as Vernon’s lips parted slightly upon realizing who his second guest was. 

“Hey,” Vernon exhaled, and gave you a small smile. He looked happy, content. As handsome as ever, he ran a gloved hand through his hair, soft curls bouncing as he shifted around the parting. “This is uh, a surprise.” his eyes flickered to Minghao, who held his arms out in a passive shrug. “A good one to end the week.” 

“Hi,” you bit your lip, feeling shy, “so, you decided to get certified and you’re going to grad school? I missed out on a lot.”

“That’s okay, we got time.” Vernon assured, “besides the fact that I got a project due tomorrow morning that I’ve barely started, and then I have a field trip I gotta go to on Sunday—”

Before it could drag on any longer, Minghao hacked out a very loud, and very fake cough. You broke out of the rêve, and muttered a “gimmie that” before snatching your precious bubble tea out of Minghao’s hand. 

Vernon mirrored the cough, more out of embarrassment than annoyance. “Lemme finish up with this client, yeah?” And he jerked his head back to the patient, going on about safety. 

Minghao led you out of the room, whispering a “you’re welcome” in your ear that taunted you for the rest of the night. 

Vernon finished at 5, just like he did back in the little shack at university square. He came out in a 2XL neon green hoodie, leading the client out the door and telling him to “take it easy”. As soon as the client’s gone, he comes over to you. You’re still staring at your pictures, as if you couldn’t believe that you were on display, looking like a tasteful nude model. 

“Hi again,” he said, dusting the imaginary dirt off his pants. 

“Hi,” you replied, feeling tingly at the sound of his voice. Did you really miss him that much? 

"Um, is it cool if I hug you?" 

It certainly has been awhile. You nodded, unsure if you could form a coherent response because you could tell Vernon was blushing and he was being too damn adorable for you to handle. 

Upon permission, he brightened. The warmth of his cotton hoodie enveloped you like the way hot chocolate feels after a cold day. You breathed in his scent, realizing how much you missed the scent of fresh laundry, especially on him. 

"How are you?” He asked casually.

“Uh, m'okay.” You answered softly, “a little cold nowadays." 

He hugged you tighter in response. With one more squeeze he let himself go, but kept you at an arm’s length. "Wanna get dinner?" 

You looked at him funny, "didn’t you say you had a project due tomorrow morning that you haven’t started?" 

Without missing a beat he altered, "Wanna get takeout? I’ll do work and eat while,” his eyes darted to your luggage, “you do work?" 

While you wanted to say that it was Friday (FriYay!) and you weren’t planning to open Pandora’s Box until Sunday night, you obliged and followed him to his place. 

On the way over, Vernon got his well-needed milk tea (and your second round) with two matching cartons of jajangmyeon. You trailed behind him rather than next to him, due to the fact that he was also lugging a Joshua-sized canvas on his back. In fear of being knocked out or ruining his work, you settled for walking a meter apart. 

Vernon lived on the second floor of his complex. You imagined a sizable one-room similar to your goshiwon, but you’re in awe when you see a fully furnished living room and kitchen. You smiled at the singular jade plant decorating the windowsill, one you remembered as Patricia Planty one session months ago. The hardwood was so shiny you could see your reflection in them. Kicking off your shoes, you stumbled over the kitchen countertop, reveling at the onyx granite. 

"I’ve never seen this much granite in my entire life!” You cried, spreading your hands over the cool rock. It was so well polished, you could see your reflection.  He was certainly living the high life this year. 

Vernon shook his head, setting the take out down and pulling out the containers. “It’s RM’s old place. I rent it out with the guys." 

"God, this is ten times better than my place! Your kitchen is bigger than my apartment!" 

He flicked your bowl of jajangmyeon over to your side of the countertop, the sauce and noodles premixed for you. "Eat up, babe.” He stuffed a radish in his mouth, now working to mix his own noodles, “we got a lotta catchin’ up to do." 

Whether it was your hunger or the casual use of the word "babe”, you abandoned the granite for now and did as told. 

An hour later, you’re flipping through their mounted TV, taking full advantage of their Disney+ subscription as Vernon is laying on the floor.  

“I thought you were working,” you chastised, letting yourself sink further into their couch. It was like resting on a big, fluffy marshmallow. You never wanted to leave. 

Vernon is splayed out like a starfish, papers and watercolors spread around him. His large body stood out against the white linoleum floor, his neon green hoodie reflecting on the shiny surface. “I am.” he replied blandly, “I’m waiting for lightning to hit me with a burst of inspiration." 

"Grad school’s biting you in the butt?" 

"Big time." 

Another bout of silence hit the two of you, and it was surprisingly nice. You finally started to notice that Vernon is picking up some art utensils and is doodling something. (He still is on the floor and hasn’t sat up properly, but progress is progress.) 

It felt oddly domestic, but you didn’t mind. There was no need to ask about the past, Kim Mingyu, or any other silly drama you two entrapped yourselves into last summer. What mattered now was the warmth of each other’s presence on this chilly night.

Your eyes are heavy and fighting against the long day, and before you know it, you’re asleep just as Rapunzel escapes Gothel’s tower. 

You haven’t awoken to the morning sun in a long, long time. While the notion sounded awfully depressing (because it was), you really didn’t have much of a choice because the goshiwon was closet sized, and closets had no windows. But today, the sun blasted you, forcing you up. This was accompanied by the the tell-tale sounds of breakfast, which was weird because you only ever ate cold food in your room, because there was zero ventilation. The scent of dark roast muddled your senses, forcing you awake. You twitched at the sudden stench, and snapped your back straight. Were your walls always this pristine white? 

"Didn’t know you were this early in the game, Flower Girl." 

You never went home. While Vernon was long gone and probably off presenting some haphazard art, Minghao and Yoongi (for the first time, in the flesh!) were watching you from their marbled island, while you rubbed the crusties out of your eyes. "Usually, encroaching on a significant other’s apartment is reserved for the 5th or 6th date.” Minghao teased, waving his Nutella toast in your face. 

“Oh, shut up,” you glared at Yoongi, who was slowly chewing on his own toast. There’s was black spark in his eyes, like he’s relishing on whatever has unfolded. “And you, you. I know this is the first time we’ve met and you haven’t said a word. But shut up too. Your thoughts are awfully loud.” 

You’re embarrassed, and you pull up your hands to mediate your fired cheeks. Instead of your palms, you feel worn cotton dabbing at your face. You wiggled your fingers under the neon green hoodie. Vernon put on his clothes for you to wear. You were in a very uncompromising position, and his roommates were reveling every second of it. 

Yoongi shrugged, throwing you a flippant grin. “Whatever you say, Flower Girl.” 

Contact emerged in the form of texts and images. You wondered how Vernon managed to keep things casual in light of how sudden your meeting was, but you relished in the way things fell naturally. 

[February 19, 2:10PM]

Vern: Is this still your number 

Vern: If so, here’s what i submitted for my project

Vern: IMG.934

Vern: if not, pls enjoy this picture of a pink platypus. the medium was watercolor nd if you’re curious, i got the idea from sunsets and phineas and ferb. Enjoy your day

You: hey look, there’s perry

Vern: nice

Vern: wait, this doesn’t confirm if ur u or a stranger

Vern: are u just a perry enthusiast 

Vern: evidence pls

[February 19th, 6:08PM]

You: IMG.48

[February 20th, 12:22AM]

Vern: ooh

Vern: look cute in my hoodie 

You’ve toggled with the idea of just cutting straight through the bush and asking him out the next time you see him in person. A little part of you liked the chase, however. That feeling where you’re tugging between friendship and something more, and you can’t help but feel like you’re fifteen everytime his name popped up in your messages. You self-dubbed it the-honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. 

[February 27, 5:34PM]

Vern: what are you up to 

You: it’s hour 32. I’ve been under the covers and have survived solely on celery and honey-butter chips. currently binging all netflix comedies. debating on whether to send for help otherwise i may never get up

Vern: that’s the spirit 

By the time two weeks passed, you felt confident enough to ride off the mutually weird text messages and constant contact to meet with him. By then, you’re knees deep in the honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. You’re languidly floating in that river, hoping you’re not rushing it by agitating the waters. 

[March 8th, 10:10PM]

You: hey

You: you up? 

Vern: nah. mastered the art of sleep textin

You: just wanted to ask if you could help me pick out a tatt that would fit me

You: if you were available. I’ve heard from the mullet-monster that you’re a hot commodity drowning in appts and deadlines

Vern: wait forreal? 

Vern: i can pencil u in. tomorrow night @11? 

You: so soon? What happened to being busy

Vern: not for u. Already have an idea in mind

By the time you arrived Saturday night, Minghao was slapping your back across the door, gabbing on about a “major banger” they were missing uptown. He looked the part, the only person you knew that could fill out an all-studded denim fit. Like a disco ball at a rodeo. He barely said good-bye before he hopped in a Lyft, cheering for freedom. 

You poked your head into the artist room, and saw Vernon playing on his phone. His fist dug into his cheek, carob pupils glazed over. You almost felt bad for wanting his attention this late.

“You usually do the day shift,” you commented quietly, holding up a bag with two milk teas in hand. 

Vernon looked up, illuminating in a half-smile. “Y’know me, always covering. Just for the hour though, this shouldn’t take long since we’re just looking at ideas.” 

He slapped a hand on the client chair. This one was much better than the cot they had in their shack. This one was pure leather and gleamed high quality. You placed your drinks on the countertop and eagerly bounced onto the seat. “Comfy,” you murmured, and wriggled your sneaker-clad feet.

“Good,” there’s a sharp snap from the plastic seal and Vernon is sipping into his milk tea seconds after you put it down. He’s chewing on a particularly large gulp, gnawing on pearls like no one’s business. With his rolling chair, he slid over to you, seamlessly reaching for your wrist. 

If he noticed that you’re wearing a particular neon item, he doesn’t comment. He turned on the overhead lamp, letting a soft white light bathe your form. When he finally spoke, he chanted your name in a sing-song, tapping your wrist in beat. It’s as if he  were envisioning the color blooming on your skin. 

You let him do his thing, and he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery. You see pictures of his friends, some of his family, and digital art. He scrolled slower at the myriad of images: a colorful orca, lavender constellations, and budding roses. 

You were seeing a lot of flowers nowadays, with the burgeoning of spring and the recent ending of Valentine’s. It’s only now that you notice how apparent the theme is throughout the parlor, particularly in Vernon’s affinity. 

“Why don’t you call me it?” you asked softly, peering over his form to see him mulled over a picture of periwinkle lupines. 

“Huh,” he’s distracted, and has now swiped back to the colorful orca image. 

“Flower Girl,” you uttered, “they call me that, but you don’t.” 

Vernon clicked his phone down, the lupines flicked away. He peered at you through his lashes, the white overhead making his eyes appreciably bright. “Before I knew your name,” he started slow, making faces to himself as if he were debating on whether to tell you, “I’d call you Rose. You were always by the rose bush planted outside the shop.” 

“Avoiding work,” you crinkled your nose, however relished in the endearment, “being named after a rose is too big a compliment.” 

He snorted, “That’s what they said. Hence, Flower Girl was born,” he’s easy about it, but now he’s put his phone down and is rubbing circles in your wrist. You wonder if he felt how clammy your palms were getting from the minute intimacy. 

“You know what flower I’d compare to you?” you asked, “freesias.” 

“And what do those mean?” 

“Thoughtfulness,” the pad of his thumb still lingered on your skin, his grip painfully apparent. “And renewal.” 

“Why renewal?” 

“Because,” you swallowed, “you make me feel renewed. And this time I’m sure it’s because it’s you.” 

Vernon looked like he wanted to smile, trying so very hard not to embarass you whilst you poured your heart out with delicacy. His coral lips were tucked in a thin line, teeth biting at his lower lip. Drop by drop, he was going to accept that dew with as much care as possible. “Only me,” he inquired, pressing into your pulse. 

Your mouth was sand dry.  “Uh-huh.” You exhaled a breath long clutched in your throat, hot air fanning into Vernon’s face. He paid no mind, and (to no avail) was still trying to hold in his smile. “You’re dimples are showing,” you whined, poking the little dip in his cheeks with your free hand. “Use your words.” 

“Like?” he elongated, playing dumb. You supposed you earned his brand of torture, after all, seven months is a long time to make up for. 

“Like how we want the same thing?” you tried. 

“How do you know I want what you want?” he feigned, furrowing his thick brows. Acting could’ve been another career possibility for him, portrayed by the way his eyes were blown with confusion, his mouth parted like a kitten.  

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Forget words!” you broke, nearly shaking from the nerves. 

It’s then that Vernon finally gave you a concrete response. His grip on your wrist was near painful as he eagerly tugged you closer, kissing you. There’s enthusiasm in every action from the way he pulled you closer, large hands melding to cup your cheeks. A little part of you is both breathless and invigorated at the energy stinging the room, and you can barely keep up until Vernon spilled kisses down your neck. 

He threw up the armrest holding him back, tucking his knee between your legs as he lapped you up, kissing you fully. The chair was much too small for the both of you, his large body pressing you further into the cushions. 

He sat up a bit, bumping his head on the lamp. He paid no mind. “By the way, I like you, too.” Vernon puttered cheekily, rubbing his scalp. Just as swiftly, he latches onto your neck and sucks at a sensitive spot. You can feel his teeth showing from the smile in his kisses. His thumbs rubbed lazily over your jaw, enjoying the feel of your soft skin under his rough palms. 

“Really,” you exhaled, relaxing against the headrest as Vernon’s wandering hands traveled lower. “Had no idea.” 

“But I’m happy,” Vernon is fumbly and sweet, mumbling in the crook of your neck while his fingers toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, “happy you’ve healed, and happy for us.” 

He’s excited, almost too excited. The space between you two was warm, the lamp beating under your skin, awakening something between you two that was left behind that summer. It’s as if winter left him dormant, and you were the fresh flower waiting to be bloomed under his touch.

“Are you always,” you gasped, two fingers already worming their way inside your panties, “talkative at this part?” 

“Not if you wanna talk,” and the ever-zealous Vernon Chwe gets to work, sticking out his tongue in surprise when he finds that you’re already drenched. “Shit, you’re so beautiful,” he holds onto that word dearly, and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to hold you like this,” he reached for your delicious bud, and you felt your senses flower into pleasure. 

He makes a noise, low in his throat as he watched you melt against the seat. “I like you like this,” he said thickly, his voice matching the slick sounds emitting from yourself. “Comfy, relaxed. You always looked so stuffy in those work suits,” you feel wholly undeserving of this worship, as he licked a long strip from your collarbone to your neck, “would love to help you chill out a lil’ more.” 

A whine bubbled from the back of your throat, your eyes rolling shamelessly as you feel the pads of his fingers working circles between your folds. “Ah, I’ve—I’ve fantasized about this,” you confessed, “every time you’d ink my back. At one point we just stopped covering myself with those stupidly thin gowns. All you had to do was turn around.” Vernon blinked rapidly, mental pictures ticked like film in his pupils. His hands stuttered across your slick, inserting two fingers between your folds as you continued. His pace was slow, yet purposeful as he made sure you felt him with every thrust. Rings adorned his fingers, and the cool sensation surprised you. You shivered in pleasure. “Mm, I’ve imagined us kinda like this in that little shack, hard against the cot overlooking the shop,” 

“Dirty,” he said, as if recalling the weather. 

“And ah—wondering what kind of tattoos you have,” and in your haze you reached for him, your hand gripping firm at his gunmetal belt buckle. You tucked your fingers between the button of his light wash jeans, palming the telltale signs of something hard, “please? You’ve done too much for me, lemme return the favor.” 

“Not now,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “you can guess my ink on our way home.”

“Wha?“ You’re dazed, feeling warm with affection and drowned in the moment. You feel his fingers, slowly pumping out of its rhythm and resting on your thigh. You groaned at the premature end, his shiny digits resting on your fleece sweats. 

“They’ll kill me, this is new leather,” Vernon said, “and now we can afford security cameras, which are so small even I can’t find them.” 

“Unbelievable,” you laughed. You’re not frustrated, only endeared. 

“Besides, I’d rather have our first time somewhere private. Undisturbed,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "somewhere where there’s lots of granite." 

You melted, pulling at his collar to pepper kisses on his nose. The mention of coming home to his pretty kitchen was icing on the cake. "You know how much I love your granite." 

(After your granite fantasy was fulfilled, you spent the rest of the weekend huddled in Vernon’s room. You’re living off take out and mutually satisfied with the unhealthy means. When you’re not eating or watching movies, the two of you are drafting your first piece. 

Freesias and pink roses.)

(His tattoo was also very cute.)