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soyouareandrewdobson · 3 years

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…the ugly. SYAC: The Master Review 4

Last post I covered much of what I consider the good or passable strips of SYAC of the pre-Dobbear era. What I have admittedly not covered yet, were three certain characters of the strip that exist beside Dobson.

Persistent Pam

Curmudgeonly Carl

And… this guy I am not even sure has a name.

No, seriously. He shows up in like the 61th strip of the series for the first time and yet I never see his name mentioned once

All I know is that he is an accountant, who pities Dobson (for good reason)

And despite Dobson not liking alcohol, they regularly meet up in a bar as if they are some late 80s comedy duo

Funnily enough, he shows up way before Pam, who would have her premiere in these strips

And despite only showing up in a few strips after her premiere (mostly to make “fun” of overbearing and snarky commissioners I suppose…)

She actually managed something no other character or series by Dobson managed to get: A fanclub

Not that she would really be of any major importance afterwards.

As for Carl, he is supposed to be something like an antagonistic embodiment of Dobson’s “old” art teachers and people being stuck in old ways, who shows up for the following strips forming a sort of arc.

In addition, it is very obvious, that Carl is supposed to be a mockery of people flaming Dobson. Not helped by the fact that THIS character sheet of him made by Dobson assures us, that there were quite a few even less “endorsing” things he wanted to name the character.

Yet funnily enough, Carl turned into such a popular character with readers, Dobson was essentially “forced” to make him reappear in other strips. Not of the “classical” SYAC strips, but he showed up as the “antagonist” to Tenku in the storydriven multi pagers. Though even antagonist is a strong word, as he is essentially more of a jerkish art teacher and college advisor who is harsh on Tenku, but actually has his best interests in mind. To the point he even offers him to be his “harsher” art critic in the years till he enters college, because he wants to see him grow artistically.

However, Carl was also more of an “accident”. Cause when it came otherwise to tackling criticism or things that irked Dobson (and were not anime related) he would end up more or less creating strips that painted him in a manner where he would supposedly always look like “the better” compared to his opposition or mock it. Which is where a lot of the irk Dobson would earn over the years eventually comes from.

Now to be fair, I do not want to call every comic in that regard “strawmanning”, nor do I want to say that Dobson doesn’t have the right to also mock to a certain extend the mentality of certain “snobs” and so on. For example…

On one hand, I know there are people out there who think they are “special” by having the best tools at their disposal. When in reality you can achieve good results also with less expensive stuff. So mocking that sort of attitude is fine to me to some extend

BUT, when you also make down the line a comic like this…

… essentially making yourself come off as a “better” artist or person than others because you have “chosen” the better mass produced crap (btw, that is coming from someone who types this review on a Mac that runs Windows) , then the hypocrisy ends up to be rather strong with you.

Which is also essentially the biggest issue with the strips I am about to show. The hypocrisy of Andrew Dobson. And no, I do not mean the tumblr blog by that. I mean the simple fact, that the content of some of the soon to follow strips gets kinda muddled when you take into consideration some of the things real life Dobson had said and done either at the time or in the years to come. Well that and the way how he tries to mock issues people have with his work, not realizing how he is essentially just reassuring those “silly critics” in their opinions while making his flaws more obvious to people that may have been previously unaware of them.

But enough talk, let me just show you in quick succession examples to confirm said point.

Considering Dobson’s longterm disdain for DnD you have to wonder what the joke really is outside of him portraying DnD players as ugly nerds, supposedly too geeky even for him. Which is hilarious in hindsight as he would years later become a fan of TAZ among other things.

Less hypocritical but the set up is kinda flawed. Like, you are obviously at a convention trying to sell stuff. Why would some old dude not interested in “kids crap” be at the convention anyway? Is he just bringing someone there and just wants to go, but first needs time to belittle your life choices?

Rather hilarious in hindsight to me. Cause for someone claiming he has ideas that last for a life time and who seems rather distraught on the idea of others giving their input, he turned out to be so in need of ideas. Alex ze Pirate e.g. became from 2015 onward only defined by Dobson talking about the sexualities of his characters (and not even in comic as by that point it was discontinued, but rather in tweets and so on). Formera, which ran heavily on cheap shonen anime tropes ended up cancelled after two volumes, Cabin Rest was a failure after 20 strips, 2019 he relied primarily on cheap comics about Miraculous Ladybug and his understanding of certain genres is so bad, he can’t even think up the most basic ideas for a magical girl story.

Weirdly enough, that pitch of a garbage truck driver who fights crime? I think that could make for an enjoyable short story about a vigilante a la the Punisher or Sin-City.

The way Dobson perceives criticism, while also essentially giving a quick rundown how he appreciated criticism in his childhood way better than in adulthood. Yeah, because criticism by your parents as a kid was always VERY constructive. (looks back at certain drawings from own childhood) brrr. And sorry Dobson, but sometimes criticism by strangers is better than criticism from friends. Cause friends may mince their words. Plus people have over time given you quite some insightful criticism aside “U SUX” when it comes to comics. You were just never willing to listen

Hey Dobson, you hear that? That is the sound of your career, dying and no one caring.

Yeah, I think someone who made such “brilliant” comedy as in these comics, totally has the right not to listen to what seems to be solid theoretical advice.

BTW, that Talus comic… I swear to god the worst “joke” Dobson ever told.

Wow. You essentially make a point why you suck at drawing. While still not trying to change.

And as someone else once said: Don’t play with fire if you can’t deal with the heat, BLOCK-son!

This is not how I perceived your shit over the years. See, on one hand it is true that Alex ze Pirate e.g. has its own webpage to read the comic for free. HOWEVER most of his comics Dobson would hide from the start behind a paywall. The idea being that he would e.g. put a small reading sample of 10-15 pages up somewhere and then expect people to buy his comic for full price to get the rest. And you know, if you are e.g. a professionally published writer, that is fine. But when your average art output looks like THIS

And you expect people to pay more than 10 dollars for something that is only around 70 pages long while most people can get 200+ pages for the same amount of money that look like this��

You can frankly go and screw yourself.

On one hand I get that the joke is meant to be, that as an independent content creator you may find yourself in a weird spot where your “child friendly” work may be put in a palace between edgier stuff other creators sell at conventions. On the other hand, I find it rather insulting in hindsight, that self declared feminist Andrew Dobson portrays such competition as either psychopathic murderers or stereotypical cartoon bimbos. If modern day Dobson saw the same strip by any other person, he would be insulted on behalf of the female that she is portrayed as a bimbo, when she could also be a very smart and attractive woman who knows how to tell brave and sexy stories.

Also, I have read your “child friendly” stuff, Dobson. I would call Atea or Alex abusive bitches who like to bully orphans but child friendly? Not to forget that your work is so basic and shallow in depth, it’s like the someone tried to create a chimera out of some of the worst traits associated with Dora the Explorer, 80s toodler cartoons and the Fairly Oddparents.

I frankly hate this theory on comedy. It is true, a lot of comedy can be deprived from conflict, misunderstandings etc. Looney Tunes, Tom and Jerry and other cartoons as well as screwball comedies such as Rat Race can depend on it. Heck, one of my favorite comedians of all time is Christopher Titus, who based his entire career on the misery and absurdity of his life.

But comedy is not just defined by misery and conflict.

There are for example also the following theories when it comes to comedy…

And to get back e.g. to Titus, yes, he has build a lot of his comedy on the bad stuff that happened in his life. But he is also someone who in his comedy has build a lot of punchlines on the absurdity of certain situations he has been in life but which in a way have enriched his life positively.

What I am trying to say is, comedy (and entertainment in that regard) does not just have to be defined by misery. And all things considered Dobson, you could have really tried to also just make comics wherein either you or your characters are just happy with their situation in life.

For example, this page from an Owl House fancomic?

I think it holds more entertainment value than your “joke” right here, despite not even telling a joke.

Simply because as a page overall, it tries to convey a positive emotion. Which is more than I can say about the strip.

Because of a lack of different level of thickness regarding your lines, which would trick people into perceiving depth, the fact that the fill bucket and shade layers can only do so much to cover for the rather monochromatic dull nature of your comic, the fact that your characters are not really all that complex and look rather simplicstic even compared to stuff from a comic like this…

And that is just coming from the top of my head as someone who never studied art. If any reader has something to add, I am willing to listen

And considering you could in later years never keep up to any release schedule, which among other things resulted in only three SYAC strips in total being released in 2016, I say go fuck yourself. Not to forget that even some of the worst newspaper comic strips out there tend to actually find a decent following and good jokes eventually, otherwise they would not manage to stay popular for years, if not even decades.

As someone who has worked internships a lot in life, I just want to say fuck you in all our names. Glad to see you having just as much respect for interns than any other scumbag on the planet. Probably even less respect, cause you know, in some places interns tend to get paid.

Also, there is supposedly an entire real world story going on about Dobson having worked at his former university at the time the comic came out and Chaz is based on a fellow intern.

Things are unfortunately rather vague in that regard and only hold up by demonstrative evidence such as the name of Chaz showing up in certain pages of the university and Dobson’s internship being mentioned somewhere.

Well, would you look at that: People have different opinions on your stuff.

There are ways to draw memes funny and then there are ways to fail at them

You failed.

Funnily enough, that comic rings a lot truer to text than you expect. Considering how Dobson would often emulate certain aesthetics in his comics of shows that were rather passee by the time he published his stuff, plus how he will obsess over certain trends and games for years to come (like Skyrim or his Quiet Hate Boner) while also being unaware about current trends (how do you e.g. not have heard of My Hero Academia by 2018 at least once by accident?) Dobson has always been kinda late to the party. Missing the “zeitgeist” of nerd culture and as such never quite finding an audience.

Yeah, what Pam says. Not helped by the fact that yes, the floating eyebrows are real. Look at some earlier sketches or “professionally published” comics by his and you will see that each time characters get excited, their eyebrows will suddenly split into sets of three and float higher than Pennywise’s victims.

Ironically, that fits real life Dobson at the time and later on even more so than this comic version did. Sorry, but what am I supposed to call a person who has an hate boner on anime for years for superfluous reasons, made Danny and Spot a “gaming webcomic” deliberately to piss on non Nintendo fans and has admitted in some by now deleted youtube video, that he kept a list of usernames from an old forum just to remember even years later the people that were mean to him online?

Fuck both of you. I do not expect the Sixtin Chapel in the background, but something to filll up the empty space behind you is at times needed.

The comic here is actually called politics. … ironic how things changed once a certain reality show host turned president.

Jesus Christ. I am not even that much of a Transformers fan (Prime fan for life however) but even I know that this is not supposed to be what you design the head of a Transformer like. Not even if they ever produce the Transformers equivalent of Teen Titans Go.

Too bad you still can’t stand the heat, otherwise you wouldn’t have completely disappeared last year.

When you know you are in a no win situation, and still manage to choose an even dumber option to escape. I really don’t get it. I just think the Portal reference makes the comic dated and Dobsn’s attempt at a smug face looks so stupid. Like his cheeks are falling in and his mouth is about ready to get raped by a garden hose or something.

Yeah, considering Dobson’s later constant need for safe spaces and to be in control of a situation and the narrative, which led to so many blocks over the years… if you know anything about Dobson, how this comic becomes harsher in hindsight is rather self explanatory. I just want to say one thing: There is a difference between genuine agoraphobia and just wanting to be by yourself. And I think Dobson just prefers the later on average. Which is okay, but humans still need to interact with other human beings in one form or another, even just for the sake of keeping their mental health stable. Why do you think are so many people getting depressed in times of covid lockdowns, despite many having all sorts of technical gimmicks at their disposal to at least keep boredom at bay?

And by putting himself into a bubble like that, I think Dobson has deprived himself of some of the most basic human interaction, which was likely a severe factor in his mental degeneration over the last years.

It is still a valid suggestion! Just draw some cartoon characters or a nice fantasy scenario on a mural and earn yourself some bucks. Just be sure they are not by Disney or the Mouse will tear down the school!

… Just google up the words Andrew Dobson and Samus Aran commission by ED and you will see how this comic just further shows how much Dobson seems to actually be proud of being an unproductive asshole.

And by the way, I know that any form of artistic work takes time. Just writing these review posts takes a lot of time for me. But that doesn’t change the fact that people should post and create stuff in a timely fashion, especially when there are e.g. deadlines to hold up too. And by the way, Sloth’s don’t have fingers, they have claws!

And that is it.

Sorry if I missed anything folks, but I just saw how many pages in word this is already filling up, so I call quits for this part here right now. I think I made my point about how Dobson trying to badly deflect arguments people may make against his art and work ethics via jokes clear enough, while also showing some posts that are either harsher or hilarious in hindsight.

Next time we will however address one certain issue about our main character, that has been not directly addressed here. In the meantime, have a little fun video that shows hopefully how entertainment and a certain amount of comedy can be gained NOT via misery.

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#adobsoncomic #Andrew Dobson #Tom Preston #comic #webcomics #syac #so...you are a cartoonist #review #master review

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seokjins-shoulders · 5 years

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DRINKING AND INKING

seokjins-shoulders

genre: fluff, tattooist!au, kind of crack? but it gets serious warnings: harsh language, sexual themes pairing: min yoongi x reader

DO NOT REPOST, DO NOT STEAL, DON’T DO SHIT

a/n: this is my first fic!! I got a request for this literally ages ago... and I put my heart and soul into, and I’m very proud of it. Constructive criticism is welcomed, but please be gentle I’m weak lol anyways, enjoy the fic!! lmk what you think, and have a wonderful day! love you~~~

“You fucking fell asleep on his lap right before you were going to suck his dick.”

When your roommate suggested a night out on the town, it seemed like a decent idea at the time. And with her help, you picked out an outfit and did your makeup.

What a fool you had been, for letting her talk you into wearing a pair of her stilettos.

Now, you were outside a bar, whining to yourself as you nursed your aching feet. It was nearly one in the morning, and you were dying to go home. You sent another text to your roommate, who was still inside, probably grinding against some poor person—she was definitely a wildcard.

And what a fool you had been yet again, when you neglected to bring a jacket. You’ve always been sensitive to the cold, but like the idiot you are, you thought you could brave the cold tonight.

“Chilly?” Someone asks to your left. Damn, his voice is deep.

“Like a pepper,” you replied instinctively. You laughed awkwardly, cursing yourself inwardly as you glance to your left. “Sorry, that was reflex—“

You choked mid-sentence. God, was this guy attractive. He was hotter than a freshly microwaved hot pocket. His features were soft, but sharp at the same time. His deep brown eyes were glinting with something you couldn’t pinpoint, both mysterious and enticing.

“You okay?” Hot pocket asks, biting his lip to repress a laugh.

“F-fine, yep!” You stutter, face flushed. “Choked on some... uh, air.” Why were you like this?

“Here.” You blink, surprised, when you’re suddenly handed his jacket.

“Oh, I can’t take your jacket,” you say, feeling your rising blush, “I don’t even know you.”

“You’ll get frostbite if you don’t,” He teases, leaning back against the bar’s wall, now wearing only a plain black shirt.

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

When Hot pocket nods, you finally slip on his jacket. You’re embarrassed, but the warmth of the jacket is too good to refuse. And it smells like Heaven, oh lord.

Then, you finally notice the array of tattoos coating his left arm. There are painted roses, songbirds, and symbols, as well as beautiful phrases written in impressive script. You feel yourself starting to stare, but you can’t find it within yourself to look away.

“Like tattoos?” His voice snaps you back to reality.

Face red yet again, you tear your gaze back to his eyes. “Yeah, always have. Where’d you get them done?”

“Local parlor.”

“They’re beautiful,” You say with a smile, inching towards him to get a better look.

He chuckles, extending his arm so you can get a better look. Every tattoo on this man was beautiful, but none compared to the initials written along his collarbone.

“What’s your name?” His question derails your train of thought before you think to ask him what the initials mean.

“Name?” You ask. “L/N Y/N... you?”

“I’m—“

“Y/NNNNNN!” Your roommate suddenly interrupts with her loud slur. She stumbles over to you, hiccups, and proceeds to rest her chin (and her entire body weight) on your shoulder.

“Jiyeon!” You exclaim, surprised to see her. She’s usually partying until three in the morning on average.

“Y/N!” She imitates you drunkenly, bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Your friend?” Hot pocket says with a devilish smirk, raising an eyebrow. Fuck, that’s attractive.

“Y-yeah, my roommate—“

“Who is he?” Jiyeon interjects. She looks him up and down, then turns to you and smiles. She nods approvingly.

You blink at her. “What are you nodding for?”

“Oh, so you aren’t going to hook up with him?” She hiccups, then coughs and seems to throw up in her mouth a little.

Hot pocket laughs gently. Fuck, husky. “She looks pretty wasted... I’d bring her home.”

“Yeah, good idea.” You mumble distractedly, as you try to make sure Jiyeon doesn’t hurl. “I’ll take her home... sorry about that!”

“No worries.” He says, waving as you lead your drunk roommate down the sidewalk.

“He was so hot!” Jiyeon yells, ignoring your pleas for her to be quiet. “I would’ve sucked his dick, for sure.”

“Ji, he can probably still hear you!”

“But Y/N, look at his face! Guys like him always have massive—!” You smacked your hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her.

You throw a nervous glance behind your back—and there he is, laughing. Terribly embarrassed, you rush even faster down the street and ignore your aching toes.

Hours later, a new beautiful morning. Everything is fine and dandy as Jiyeon nurses her hangover and you prepare some cereal for her.

Except for one thing.

You forgot to return his fucking jacket.

How do you do such a thing? A guy, an unbelievably attractive guy, you hardly know lends you his nice jacket, and you accidentally steal it? Wow.

“Hahhhhh,” Jiyeon mocks you, half groaning and half laughing. “I can’t believe you stole his jacket. And you don’t even know who he is!”

“Be quiet, Ji.” You hiss at her. She only laughs at you, greedily accepting the bowl of soggy cereal.

You sigh, flopping down onto the bed next to your roommate. You groan, but she gives you no acknowledgement. You groan a second time, obviously trying to get her attention.

“What?” She huffs sarcastically after swallowing. “You told me to be quiet.”

“Ji,” you complain, “help me.”

“What do you want me to do, Y/N?” She asks through a mouthful. “I don’t know who this guy is. I don’t even remember what he looks like.”

“But I have to return it!”

She rolls her eyes, setting the now empty bowl on the bedside table. “Look, think of it like this. If he really cared about the jacket, do you think he would’ve lent it to some random girl outside a bar in the middle of the night?”

“I guess not, but—“

“Ah,” Jiyeon cuts you off. “Think about it. He would’ve stopped you if he cared about it.”

You contemplated for a long moment, before finally conceding with a sigh. “I guess you’re right.”

“As usual.”

“Shut up, loser.” You groan, flicking her forehead playfully as you get up.

“Hey! I helped you!” Jiyeon laughs, sticking her tongue out. “Now go get my computer for me, won’t you? I want to watch Netflix.”

A week later, you find yourself in a similar predicament from the week prior. Except this time, there’s no Hot pocket, and it’s just you struggling to control a wildly drunk Jiyeon.

“Ji, please.” You groan. “Let’s go home?”

“No!” She all but roars. “I want to get a tattoo!”

She stumbles off towards the parlor that just so happens to be down the street. You have no choice but to follow her.

Jiyeon throws open the jingling door of the parlor, stepping in and announcing herself: “My name is Kim Jiyeon. Ink me up, bitches!”

The parlor is an aesthetically pleasing place. The floor’s were dark wood, the black walls were covered with different pieces of art and photographs. Along the left wall, there was a stairwell going up the second floor, and adjacent to the stairwell was a door. There was a classy front desk in the midst of the room, and on the opposite side, there were a couple chairs and a comfy looking couch.

The guy seated at the front desk whistles, swivels around in his chair and slips into the back room through the door. You hear him speaking to the other employees: “We got a couple of customers. One’s totally plastered.”

“Jiyeon, come on.” Your grab her wrist, trying to drag her out of the parlor. “You’re going to regret this. Please come home?”

“But I’ve always wanted a tattoo.” She whines. “And now I can, like, do it! I already know what I want to get.”

“And what’s that?”

“His name? Tattooed on my rib?” She suggests, all too innocently. “Isn’t that a nice idea?”

You sigh. “Please think this through. We can do this another day? When you’re not drunk?”

“But Y/NNNN.”

“Please, Ji?”

She huffs and bites her lip, finally giving in. “Fine, but when I do get it, you’re coming with me!”

“I hear someone wants to get inked up?”

Oh my god, that voice.

You spin around, meeting the ever so mysterious and enthralling gaze of Hot pocket.

“Oh!” He smirks, amusement lighting his eyes up. “Hello, Y/N.”

“H-hi!” You say, still dumbfounded. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he says. Then turns to observe Jiyeon. “Is she drunk again?”

“She’s getting over a bad break up,” you supply, rubbing Jiyeon’s back as she absently picks at her manicured nails. “I’m so sorry about all of this... we bothered you last week, and now we’re invading your parlor...”

“It’s no trouble, really,” he says, never losing his smirk. “Honestly, you two are quite the duo. Very entertaining.”

“Yoongi, should I set up the chair?” The guy, the young and handsome fellow from before, steps out from the back.

Yoongi waves him off. “No need, Jungkook.”

“Yoongi? That’s your name?” You ask as Jungkook leaves yet again.

“Yep. Min Yoongi, yours truly.”

“Oh. I like it.”

“Thank you.”

You wink awkwardly, and he smiles in response. Your curse your awkwardness, but you find you quite prefer the gummy smile over the smirk.

“Y/N, are we going to leave, or...?” Jiyeon slurs from beside you.

“O-oh yeah! I should, uh, go.” You smile, shooting him a finger gun. What the actual fuck are you?

He chuckles. “It was fun. I’ll see you around, I suppose.”

“Hopefully.” You say, earning one more small smile from him. You wave as you slowly lead your drunk roommate from Yoongi’s parlor.

You listen silently as Jiyeon drunkenly rants to you about her ex for the billionth time as you walk home. You try to pay close attention, but your mind can’t help but wander back to Yoongi and his tattoo parlor, and his gummy smile.

And as Jiyeon begins to intoxicatedly curse her ex’s entire existence, you bite back a smile of your own.

You feel like a lovestruck teenage girl; you can’t seem to stop thinking about Yoongi. His smile, his style, his tattoos, all of which seem to constantly occupy your thoughts.

You want to see him again—obviously. But you don’t know how to go about visiting him in his tattoo parlor.

But then, your eye catches the familiar jacket hung over the back of your desk chair. It’s exactly what you need—a sensical and casual reason to pay the Hot Pocket a visit.

You snatch up the jacket, fix your hair and grab your shoes, and make your way out the door.

The walk is rather quick, only a couple blocks away from your and Jiyeon’s apartment.

The parlor’s door jingles when you push open the door.

“Oh, it’s you!” A familiar face greets you. You recognize the handsome boy as Jungkook. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Hi... Jungkook, right?” You smile, walking up to the counter. “Nice to see you.”

“You too, Y/N—“

“Jungkook, can you go get me a few paper towels from the storage closet?” A voice yells from the back.

“One moment!” He yells back. “We have a visitor!”

“Not a customer?” They reply.

“She’s Yoongi’s friend!” Jungkook answers, sending you a quick wink.

“Oh!” The owner of the voice, a pristinely handsome young man, steps out from the back room. He’s wearing a plain white shirt, dusted with what looks like charcoal or graphite. “I’m Seokjin, but call me Jin. It’s nice to meet one of Yoongi’s friends.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call us friends.” You smile awkwardly, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. “We’re just strangers who keep running into one another.”

“Well, all the same.” Jin replies.

“Who are you talking to?” Yoongi asks as he descends the nearby staircase. “Y/N?”

“H-Hey!” You turn to face him, hating how giddy you sound. But admittedly, he looks as delectable as ever.

“Funny seeing you here.” He smirks. “But, what for?”

“I wanted to return your jacket.” You stick out the jacket from the night days ago.

“Oh!” He exclaims, accepting it. “Honestly, I completely forgot about it. Thank you.”

“Wait!” Jungkook cries out suddenly. “Is Y/N the hot girl you were trying to pick up that night?”

You choke on your own spit.

“Ok! Jungkook, you have an essay to work on for college, right?” Jin says all too loudly, dragging the younger boy away. “I’ll help you! Let’s go do that right, in the back room, and leave them alone.”

The look in Yoongi’s eyes can only be described as completely and utterly dying inside. As you try to come up with something to respond with, you hear Jin hollering at Jungkook: “JUNGLEBOOK, YOU THOUGHTLESS LITTLE—“

Yoongi pushes the door closed before anything else can be heard.

“Ahaha...” You laugh awkwardly, as Yoongi turns towards you.

“I’m sorry about him,” He huffs with an embarrassed smile. “Jungkook takes a lot of things out of context. And just, does whatever with them.”

“Oh, yeah, d-don’t worry about it,” You say, stumbling over your words. “I know you wouldn’t think of me like that—I mean, like in that context—you know what I mean, I hope...”

“No, no, it’s not that I think you’re unattractive,” he quickly states. “You definitely are! Wait, uh, this is... getting—“

“So! How long have you known Jungkook and Jin?” You interrupt him, swerving away from the awkward topic. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire–you prayed they were horribly red.

You pretend you don’t see the relief in his eyes as he answers you. “I’ve known Jin since college.. and he and Jungkook are practically brothers, so he introduced me to him.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” You smile. “Do you guys run this parlor together?”

“I own it with another friend of ours, Namjoon.” He supplies. “He’s a really talented artist—taught me a lot.”

“Oh, there are more friends,” You raise your eyebrows in interest.

“Seven of us total—well, Namjoon’s overseas right now.”

”Are you all tattoo artists?”

“Just me, Jimin and Namjoon. Jungkook’s still learning. If you come around again, you’ll get to meet the rest of them.”

You hate how your heart leaps at his suggestion of you visiting again. You nod eagerly, almost too eagerly. “Yeah, I’d love to meet them. I need more friends,” You laugh. “All I have is Jiyeon.”

“Oh? How long have you been in this area?”

“Jiyeon and I moved here together after we finished college. She’s pursuing music, and I had a job opportunity here.”

He raises one of his perfect eyebrows at you. “What do you do? For a living, I mean.”

“I’m a waitress, but I’m writing a book—well, trying to.”

“That’s amazing.” You’re surprised by the earnest interest in his voice. Your heart does a few excited backflips.

Your eye catches the elaborate piano tattoo on his left bicep. You can’t help but point it out. “I like this one a lot. Who did it?” You ask, gently grazing it with your fingertips. Neither of you had noticed how you’d subconsciously drifted closer to one another.

“Oh,” Yoongi’s eyes turn sad as he looks down at the tattoo. “A friend.”

Obviously, it’s a sensitive topic. You don’t know how to react, so awkward silence creeps in. Thankfully, before it becomes too unbearable, your phone bings with a notification.

“Jiyeon wants me to come home early. She says it’s going to storm tonight.”

You really want to stay. To make things less awkward—maybe even comfort him.

“Bummer.” Yoongi replies, stepping away from you as he finally seems to notice the proximity.

“It was nice to see you again.” You try to smile, zipping your jacket up.

“You too.” He sounds distant, waving half-heartedly.

His eyes still look sad. You don’t like the sight of him in such obvious pain.

“Bye, Yoongi.” You say, the door bell jingling as you push it open as rain begins to fall outside.

His goodbye is drowned out by the sudden storm.

“Jiyeon, you don’t understand! It was so fucking—auGHHHh!”

Jiyeon rolls her eyes, throwing her damp towel at you—she had just gotten out of the shower and had been drying her hair. “Calm down.”

You catch the towel before it can smack you in the face, instead throwing it behind you. “He got all personal and emotional and it was so rough, we were meshing so well and then—“

“What’s to say the meshing disappeared?” She asks, cutting you off. “I’m sure it’s fine. He probably wants to see you again, let’s be honest. How about we visit the parlor tomorrow?”

“I—… I don’t know about that.” You protest weakly.

“Why not?”

“We have to have a reason for dropping by.”

“Who says?” Jiyeon snorts.

“Society.”

“Shut up, Y/N. You’re being an idiot,” she says. “If you like him, just fucking talk to him.”

You give up, falling back on her bed as you groan gracelessly and loudly. Jiyeon snorts a second time, as she sits down in front of her vanity and begins to apply makeup. You perk up, eying her curiously. “What’re you dressing up for?”

“Oh, I, uh, have a date.”

Your jaw fell open. “What? A date?”

When she bit her lip and nodded, you couldn’t help but spring up in excitement. You were thrilled for her. Her last breakup with her last boyfriend, Jongin, had been nasty, and she had desperately needed to move on. It had been two months since their split, and Jiyeon had been either moping around or going wild ever since. You knew she still cared about Jongin, but you were proud of her for getting out there.

“That’s amazing, Ji! I’m so happy for you!” You fling yourself at her, sweeping her up in a hug. She scoffs and tries to push you off, despite the fond smile pulling at her lips.

“Yeah, well, gotta move on sometime.” Jiyeon said softly. Suddenly, she got an evil look in her eye, that you just barely caught. She smiled, slow and deliberately. “Y/N.”

You blinked, pausing. “What. Why do you look like that.”

She let out an ugly giggle before saying, “I’m not going to go on this date—“

“WHAT!? WHY NOT—“

“—unless you go talk to Hot Pocket.”

You stopped working for a moment. Jiyeon leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face. She knew damn well you were desperate for her to get back out there, and how much it meant to you for her to try to get past Jongin. It was a little wrong to manipulate you this way, but Jiyeon was Jiyeon.

“Jiyeon, there’s no way—“

“You’re doing it.” She had already decided.

“I can’t! How!? I’m a lump of cringe!”

Jiyeon snorted for the thousandth and swiveled around in her chair. “You’re not a lump, idiot. You got lumps.”

You groaned, lightly thwacking her head. As she cursed at you, you flopped onto her bed for the second time that night. You knew Jiyeon was serious about not going on the date unless you talked to Yoongi.

So here you were, a week later. You had procrastinated as long as you could, until Jiyeon put her foot down and made you go by yourself. She had gone on the date, and on a second date, with the mystery man named Chanyeol, and was now making you hold up your end of the “deal.”

But you just didn’t know how to go about this. So you stood across the street from the same tattoo parlor, contemplating how the Hell you should go inside and look casual as you try to start up a conversation with them. You were getting frustrated with yourself, so you decided to just go for it.

“Fuck it,” you murmured to yourself, “I’m a bad bitch.”

You crossed the street, and got to the front of the tattoo parlor. You hesitated for a split-second before pushing the door open and stepping inside of the warm building.

“Y/N?”

You look up, smiling giddily after meeting Yoongi’s eyes. He’s sitting behind the front desk, with a sketchbook and pencils spread out in front of him. You walk up to the front desk, trying to remain as chill as a bill as you say, “It’s me.”

“What’re you doing here?” He asks.

“Oh, I was, uh, walking home from work and I thought I’d pop in.” You weren’t lying—you had been walking home from the diner you worked at when you noticed the parlor was along your usual route home. Coincidentally, that same moment Jiyeon texted you, demanding when you were going to visit Yoongi and the parlor.

“I’m glad you popped in,” he finally smiles, and you feel stupidly relieved by the sight of it.

You leaned forward onto the desk, looking at the intricate drawing on the sketchbook’s paper. You can’t help but gape at its beauty. “Woah! That’s such an amazing drawing!”

He glanced down at his artwork, his cheeks immediately flushing a light pink. “Oh, this?”

It was a gorgeous drawing, skillfully sketched and beautiful drawn. It depicted a lone piano, sitting within what looked like an abandoned room—the floors were dusty and the windows boarding up. Flames could be seen licking through the cracks in the windows and around the room. It was mysterious, haunting and incredibly realistic.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh this?’ This is so beautiful, Yoongi!” You realize you’re gushing, so you bite your lip to stop from acting like a fangirl.

He laughs sheepishly. You can’t help but notice just how deep it sounds. “I’m glad you like it so much—I was kind of insecure about it.”

“You have no reason to be whatsoever,” you say, “I can’t get over how great it is. Are you always this amazing?”

“You should see my other drawings,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that self-deprecation I hear?”

“Whatever do you mean?” He snorts sarcastically. “I would never not self-deprecate.”

You laugh, loudly and genuinely. He smiles his adorable gummy smile, and soon, the two of you are talking easily and enthusiastically. The two of you drift from topic to topic, and you learn lots about him. He’s dyed his hair a lot in the past, and he used to play the piano. He was originally from Daegu, but moved to Seoul to pursue music and art. Somehow, you weren’t surprised to hear he dabbled in rapping and producing music. Maybe it was the way he talked, gracefully and smoothly, that subconsciously lulled you into the idea.

You wear surprised when you heard just how talented he was, when he shyly showed you a song called “So Far Away.”

“What the Hell?!” You yelled with a huge smile, making him blush as the song playing on his phone ends. “That was fucking amazing, Yoongi! Holy shit! Who was singing with you?”

“Jin and Jungkook,” he answers.

“Damn,” you drawl. “Boys got pipes.”

“Indeed,” he chuckles, tucking away his phone. “Well, I showed you my song. I vote you show me your book.”

You blank for a moment, before blinking slowly at him. “M-my book?”

He nods, and you hide your face in your hands as you groan. He’s right, you do owe him after he showed you his masterpiece of a song. “I’m guessing you don’t have your rough draft right this moment? Damn.”

“I didn’t expect for anyone to be reading it,” You confess. “Like ever.”

Yoongi snorts. “If you want to be a writer, you have to put yourself out there.”

“Well, same goes for you and that song!”

Immediately, he gushes and rubs the back of his neck, “It’s not even that good—“

“Are you kidding? You’re kidding. Yep. Funny joke, Yoongi!” You fake a laugh, sounding completely ridiculous.

Yoongi snorts, sputtering out a laugh. “You sound like a whale!”

“Rude!” You hit him playfully. “Are you calling me fat?”

He faked a gasp. “I would never.”

You roll your eyes, and the two of you are laughing together as everything falls into place until your phone bings with a notification. You pause, pulling out your phone to see a new message from Jiyeon, wondering where you were. It was then you realized you and Yoongi had been talking, alone, for nearly two hours.

“Who is it?” He asks, leaning back in the chair.

“Ah, it’s Jiyeon. She’s wondering when I’ll get back,” you answer.

“Yeah, what time is it? I’ve kept you hear for—holy shit, two hours?!”

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction. “I didn’t even notice. I should probably get going, I guess. It was great to see you.”

Yoongi nods, and you nearly miss the disappointed look in his eyes. You give him another smile, and wave as you turn around to leave, when he calls out to you. “Wait, Y/N, give me your number.”

You turn around, trying to hide your eager excitement. “My p-phone number?”

“What else?” He asks with a smirk, sending a shoot of excitement up your spine. The two of you quickly exchange numbers. “Great,” he says, leaning back. “I’ll text you sometime.”

“Cool beans,” you say, giving him finger guns. What the fuck are you? “Bye Yoongi.”

You don’t really want to go home, but you could tell Jiyeon was getting a little worried. It was dark outside, and undoubtedly cold. Zipping up your jacket and securing your hat, you pushed open the door just as Yoongi called out behind you.

“Y/N?” You turned to face him. “Make sure you visit again.”

You heart feels like it’s exploding with giddiness. “Will do.”

And you do. For the next couple weeks, you would visit the tattoo parlor almost everyday on your way home from work. Sometimes you’d spend ten minutes there, and sometimes you’d spend nearly three hours there. You felt comfortable saying you had become friends with Yoongi and the other boys.

“Y/N, what do you think of this?” Jimin asks you, showing you a sketch he was working on. You and the fluffy blond had met over three weeks ago, and you had become fast friends. He was incredibly genuine, sweet and funny—and an amazing tattoo artist and dancer.

“That’s fantastic,” you say, through a mouthful of the chips you were sharing with Taehyung and Hoseok. You got along just as well with the two of them just as well—both were sincere, caring and great people. Taehyung and you had a joke of constantly mocking one another’s fashion choices, and you and Hoseok had bonded quickly over a shared favorite book series.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, nasty,” Jungkook chided you, and you respectively swatted at him. He dodged you with a laugh, when Namjoon stepped out from the backroom.

“Where’s Jin?” He asked absentmindedly as he signed into the computer on the front desk. You had only recently met Namjoon some two weeks ago, but he was just as kind as the rest of the boys.

Jungkook shrugged. “Last I saw, he was going out to get coffee.”

“Ooh, I want coffee.” Hoseok mumbled to himself.

“Ooh,” Taehyung imitated him in a warbly voice, making you snort.

“Shut up,” Hoseok quips back, playfully shoving Taehyung off the couch you three were sitting on. You couldn’t help but cackle at the odd sound resembling a shriek that Taehyung made when he landed on his side.

“Children,” Jungkook says as he rolled his eyes.

“YOU’RE THE YOUNGEST,” You holler, throwing a chip at him—which he caught in his fucking mouth. “WOAH—WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“HAH!” Jungkook chokes on the chip. “I—I’m a GOD!”

“So fucking loud,” You’re the only one who catches Yoongi’s soft complaint when he comes thumping down the stairwell, wearing sweatpants and a plain tee. How he manages to be so delectable so easily, you have no idea.

You jump up off the couch to go greet him, and to tease him about how messy his bedhead is. “Were you sleeping?”

“Naps are my crack,” he says sleepily, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You laugh quietly, teasing him gently while wrapping your arms around him to give him a hug as he pretends to fall asleep again. The hug is perfectly innocent—but you can’t help but long for more. You want him to hold you and look deep into your eyes. You want him to stroke your hair and hold your hand. You want him to whisper words of love and kiss you.

But you’re just friends.

You break away from the hug to avoid it becoming too awkward, and you miss the red color of Yoongi’s flushed cheeks, and the way his eyes keep darting back to yours.

“Yoongi, come here,” Jimin calls, “Look at my sketch?”

“Yep.” Yoongi answers, flashing you a smile as he crossed over to look down at Jimin’s work.

You watch him intently as he talks to the blond, as he points out critiques and gives thoughts on Jimin’s beautiful artwork. You adore the look in Yoongi’s eyes whenever it comes to art. He lights up like a strand of Christmas lights whenever the two of you discuss anything artistic. It was obvious he loved what he did. It reminded you of your passion for the arts, particularly creative writing.

“Wow.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear Jin’s voice beside you. “Jesus! You scared me,” You breath, hand over your chest.

“Sorry,” he apologizes lightheartedly. “But really, wow.”

“What?” You blink.

“How can the two of you be so physically affectionate towards each other and not be dating?”

You blank, heart suddenly pounding a million miles per hour. You laugh awkwardly at him, “Jin, don’t be silly. We’re not dating—we’re just friends.”

He snorts. “I don’t believe it for a second. Here,” he says, now switching the topic, “I got you a coffee.”

“Thanks, Jin. I should get going now though,” You say as you accept the coffee. “Bye guys!”

A chorus of goodbyes yell back to you. “Bring Jiyeon next time!” Jimin adds.

“Will do!” You smile, waving to them. You catch Yoongi’s eye before you leave, and he gives you a small smile. You feel fuzzy at the sight of his small, personal expression. You mouth a private goodbye to him, before turning to leave.

It’s cold outside, you realize, when you step out of diner. Usually, you’d be home with Jiyeon, cuddling under a blanket and watching whatever show she’s currently obsessed with. But your bitch of a boss made you work a double shift.

“You’re where?” You ask Jiyeon over the phone, as you start your usual route home. You can’t help but feel a little spooked by the darkness of the night.

“I’m on a date with Jimin!” She squeals, sounding like a teenager.

“W-what? What happened to Chanyeol?”

“Oh. Turns out he was gay for some guy named Bacon or something. He moaned his name when we were fucking.”

“And you only just told me now?!” You demanded, completely shocked. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed Jiyeon and Jimin getting closer whenever she would come to the parlor with you. What you hadn’t expected was Chanyeol to be gay and her and Jimin to start dating so quickly.

“You’ve been so busy with Yoongi, after all,” She says back. “Practically fucking each other.”

“What!? Jiyeon!”

“What? Don’t deny it, Y/N!” She practically shouts. “You’re, like, eye-fucking each other all the time! The whole ‘I-would-die-for-you’ looks and all that.”

You balk. You don’t know what to say. You can hear Jiyeon laugh on the other side of the line. “Oh, sweetie,” she cooes, “You didn’t even realize your own feelings, did you?”

“…Do we really look at each other like that?”

She howls with laughter, and you’re left shouting at her to shut up, your cheeks on fire.

“Oh, Y/N, I love you so much,” She says, still laughing, “Have fun now. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Fuck you, Jiyeon. See you tomorrow morn—wait, morning?! Are you going to sleep—“

“—Bye Y/N.”

And with that she hangs up the phone, leaving you to yourself. You grumble absentmindedly as you slip your phone into your back pocket. As you walk along the sidewalk, you can’t but overthink what Jiyeon had said to you.

She’s right.

You do like Yoongi. You feel it whenever your heart would flutter whenever you would see him, how it would nearly explode whenever you two would hug, or have intense and amusing discussions with each other. But you don’t know how to go about it. You want more, but you don’t want to ruin what you had going. You two have managed to become so close despite how awkward and weird your initial meeting had been.

“This is so…” You mutter to yourself, shivering as you walked. Already, you’re stressing out about the potential relationship with Yoongi. You really want it, but you didn’t know how the hell to go about it. “Ah, fuck me…”

“I didn’t peg you for the casual type,”

You startle at the sound of Yoongi’s silky voice, nearly falling over. Next to you, from where he’s leaned against a storefront, he laughs at your reaction. You scowl at him as he extends a hand to help steady you.

“Jerk,” you snap playfully, rejecting his hand.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Yoongi says, chuckling under his breath, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Jesus, Yoongi,” You sigh, steadying yourself after finally accepting his help. “What are you even doing out here? ”

It’s one hell of a coincidence. You had just been grilling yourself over your feelings for him, and now here he is, with a sexy smirk and fluffy-looking hair. You try to ignore how hot your cheeks feel, and how much your heart’s racing.

“You didn’t visit, and you always come on Fridays,” he confesses, “And I got worried about you. So I thought I’d walk to the diner, see what’s up.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” You smile, “Bitch boy made me work another shift. Apparently I’m not working hard enough as it is.”

“Damn, waitressing sucks ass, doesn’t it? Was that what you were complaining about?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Complaining? When?”

“When you said, ‘Ah, fuck me,’ that?”

“Oh!” You squeak, feeling your cheeks get even warmer. “Yeah, no, that was… something else,”

“Oh,” he says dumbly, your reaction confusing him. “Okay, then, can I walk you home?”

You hate how your much heart leaps in excitement. “Sure!”

The two of you fall into step next to each other easily. As you walk, you take the opportunity to complain about and bash your boss. Your boss really is an asshole. Not only did he overwork you and your other coworkers, he’s terribly sexist. He constantly comments on your feminine attributes, and mocks you whenever you’re in a bad mood, blaming it on either your menstrual cycle or your “delicate, womanly feelings.”

“I’ll fuck him up, if you want,” Yoongi says with a scowl, “The boys would help. He sounds like a pig.”

“He is!” You say. “Good men are so hard to find.”

“You say that like I don’t exist,” Yoongi says. Stupidly, your heart explodes. You know it was a casual remark, just a simple joke, but you can’t help but overthink the hidden connotations behind it.

“Y-Yeah, what a c-catch you are,” You say, praying your stutter isn’t painfully obvious.

“You good?” Of course it was noticeable.

“Just something in my throat,” You make up a lame excuse, and thankfully he seems to believe it. The two of you continue the walk home in casual, easier conversation.

When you finally reach your apartment building, you find yourself feeling sad. You want to keep spending time with the hot pocket, so you build up as much courage as you can muster.

“Feel like coming in for a drink?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. For a split-second, you think he’ll mock you for the offer, but the next second, a painfully sexy smirk is spreading across his face. “A drink?”

“You don’t have a shift tomorrow, right?” You say, “I don’t either. And we’ve never hung out at my place before.”

“Then I’ll take you up on that offer,” He says. You want to squeal with excitement as you quickly lead him to your apartment.

You laugh loudly, nearly snorting, as Yoongi enthusiastically describes a story to you.

“You can’t be serious!” You say, giggling as you sip your glass of beer. “That didn’t happen.”

“It sure did,” Yoongi protests, “I was a dumb kid with no sense. And when I saw those glasses, I had to have them.”

“Oh my god,” you say, words slurring just a bit, “You’re a legend.”

“A myth.”

“A miracle.”

“A god.”

“Mm, I like that one,” He hums stupidly, taking another swig of his beer. “This is some good yeast.”

“Isn’t it, I found it—wait, yeast?” You say drunkenly.

“Yeast.”

“No, beer.”

“Yes.”

“Yoongi, what the fuck?”

“Alcohol is yeast, right?”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before both of you burst into laughter. You lean towards him, playfully slapping him as you howled with laughter. You looked up into his eyes, taking in his gummy smile and happy expression. You found you were entranced by him. It could’ve been your drunken stupor, but in that moment, you thought you had fallen in love with him. Even after he stopped cackling, and was simply gazing back into your eyes, you were hypnotized. He was beautiful.

Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours.

His lips are soft as he kisses you, tender and careful. Cautious and gentle, almost afraid you’ll reject him. You respond slowly, gently cupping his cheek as your lips danced with his. You feel breathless as Yoongi slowly deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. You sigh into the kiss, fervently returning his growing passion.

“Y/N,” he breaks the kiss to breathe against your swollen lips. You whimper, pressing yourself closer to him, desperate for another taste. He chuckled as his hands slowly crept up your shirt, tracing shapes into your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, pressing your lips against his. He responds eagerly, his hand drifting higher and higher. You slowly knotted your hand into his hair, pulling at the soft strands. You bit his lower lip teasingly, and he responded by gently digging his nails into your sides, rumbling. God, everything about him was sexy.

You let out a squeak, breaking the kiss when the beer you’d been holding slipping out of your hand, spilling across his lap. Yoongi blinks, sobering up a bit as he looked down at the wetness covering his lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, blinking your eyes as you knelt in front of him. You leaned over his lap, weakly wiping at the mess with your sleeve. Only when your hand brushes over a specific spot, do you realize what you were doing.

“Y/N,”

You look up into his dark gaze. You feel heat rush to your core. He chuckled, a deep, husky sound, that sent a shiver down your spine. “Y-Yoongi…”

Before you know what was happening, he was kissing you again. You desperately unbutton his shirt as he pulls yours over your head. You moan at the feeling of his fiery lips across your chest, mumbling dirty words in your delirium. Your hand rests upon the growing bulge in his jeans.

You sigh dreamily, giggling at the sheer size of the bulge, “Excited?”

He presses a kiss against your neck, sitting back to watch you rub him through his jeans. His eyes are dark, hooded with desire. “Only if you want to,”

You practically purred, kissing him deeply before making your way down his neck, sucking and biting at his skin. He moan quietly as you left marks on his collar bone, on his bare chest, his abdomen, just above his belly button.

You kiss his jeans, fumbling with the button. You rest your cheek on his thigh for a split-second, relishing the warmth and sturdiness of it. He leans back, watching you as sighed in delight as you fumble with the button.

You feel your eyelids get heavy. You nuzzle against his warm thigh, using it as a pillow. And in your drunken stupor, you feel your attention waning.

And then you fell asleep.

You wake with a start the next morning. Instantly, your hangover smacks you across the face as a terrible headache sets in. Massaging your temples, you slowly sit up. But you’re not in your bed…? You’re on your couch, with a throw pillow under your head and Jiyeon’s throw blanket thrown over you. A few empty beer bottles stand abandoned on the coffee table just next to the couch.

“What… the fuck…?” You mutter to yourself, slowly standing up.

“Oh! You finally up?” Jiyeon’s voice yells from the kitchen. “C’mere, I made omelets.”

That’s odd. Jiyeon never cooked. Nonetheless, an omelet sounded really good right now. After adjusting your rumpled clothes, you shuffled into the kitchen. Jiyeon stood at the stove, finishing off the omelets and Jimin sat at the counter—wait, Jimin?

“What’re you doing here?” You ask Jimin, setting yourself down next to him.

“Jiyeon and I came here earlier this morning with coffee for you—which is over there by the way—but we, uh…”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s fine,” Jiyeon interjects, placing a plated omelet in front of you, “I’ll tell you later.”

“Well, I’ll take that as my cue to leave then,” said Jimin, as he stood, “Jiyeon, I’ll call you, and I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“O-oh, okay,” You say, “You don’t have to go—“

“Y/N, it’s fine, I got to talk to you about something anyway,” Jiyeon interrupted.

“Are you both sure?” You fret.

Jimin smiles. “Positive. See you two later!”

“Bye Jimin,” Jiyeon practically sings, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as he pulled on his jacket. Jimin smiles at her, gives you a wave, and is out the door within the next minute.

As soon as he’s gone, you turn back around and set to work on the omelet Jiyeon made you. After the first bite, you realize why Jiyeon doesn’t cook often—but nonetheless, the omelet does taste good and it is helping your headache.

“So.”

You look up at Jiyeon, who’s standing at the opposite side of the counter. “What.”

“You got drunk last night,” Jiyeon says, “Still in your work clothes.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

Jiyeon gives you an incredulous look. “You don’t remember anything?”

“What should I be remember—oh, holy fucking shit.”

Jiyeon, being Jiyeon, laughs uproariously. “You remember, yeah?”

You remembered everything. Meeting Yoongi on your way home from work, him walking you home, and then you inviting him in for a goddamn drink. And then the two of you drank so much beer, you both got drunk. And in your drunken stupor, you two had made out so aggressively, you could still feel his teeth nipping at your lips. You undoubtedly had a few hickies dotting your neck and collarbones.

And last, but certainly not least, you fucking falling asleep on his lap right before you were going to suck his fucking dick.

What in the actual literal holy fuck.

“You okay?” Jiyeon’s question brings you back to Earth.

“NO!” You blurt, panicking, “Jiyeon, w-what—we were this close to having SEX! O-oh—oh my god, what do I do? What the Hell do I do?”

“Woah, calm down,” Jiyeon says, coming around the counter to rest her hands on your shoulders, “It’s okay, I promise.”

“Wait, do you know what happened? That Yoongi and I—that we almost—“

“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack, Y/N, calm down!” Jiyeon says, finally managing to quiet you down. “I’ll explain, okay?”

You nod, shoving another bite of omelet into your mouth.

“Okay. I told you I was out last night, right, I was out with Jimin. The date went stunning by the way, but that’s besides the point. What happened was I came home this morning, and you and Yoongi were both knocked out on the floor,” She explains, “cuddling each other. And I… I might’ve shrieked in surprise, which startled Yoongi so much he fucking launched himself into the air. Anyways, he was a little hungover, but he still lifted you onto the couch and made sure you were all comfortable before leaving. He also managed to avoid explaining whatever happened last night himself, but you seem to remember that just fine.”

Oh god. You let out a loud groan, and hid your face in your hands. “Oh god.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t really fuck,” Jiyeon says, “Cause you’re still wearing your clothes. Damn, those hickies though.”

“Fuck, really?!” You cry, your hand flying to cover your chest.

“Yoongi can work, damn!”

“Jiyeon,” you whine miserably, “Help me!”

“What do you want me to do, sister? You’re the one who got drunk and fucking attacked the man.”

“No, but—like, what the Hell do I do from here?” You wailed, smacking your head onto the counter.

“I don’t know, talk to him—“

“I CAN’T DO THAT!” You interrupted, wallowing in your own embarrassment.

“Y/N, I don’t know what to tell you—“

“Do I text him? Did he text me? Oh, holy shit, this is horrible. Our friendship is ruined. Now we can’t hang out around the boys because it’s just—“

“Y/N!” Jiyeon all but screams, effectively silencing you.

“Yes?” You squeak.

“You’re fine,” She grunts, “Trust me. He likes you too.”

Doubt creeps into you. “How do you know?”

She rolls her eyes. “Because no guy would’ve acted the way he did if he didn’t like you. Trust me, Hot Pocket’s just as crazy about you as you are about him.”

“Then what should I do?” You ask, twisting your hands together.

Jiyeon plants her hand on your head, playfully mussing up your already frazzled hair. “Just talk to him, Y/N.”

After talking to Jiyeon, you felt much better. You felt even more better after a shower and a short nap. It was late that night—just after dinner time—when you pulled on your jacket and shoes and set out for the tattoo parlor.

You stand across the street from the parlor, your anxiety eating away at you. If what Jiyeon had told you was the truth, you’d be fine—but there’s no way for you to know for sure. That is, unless you ask Yoongi. And that’s exactly why you’re goddamn here. Now it is only a matter of working up the confidence.

“I’m a badass bitch,” You whisper to yourself, just as you had that night all those days ago.

Steeling yourself, you cross the street and make your way to the tattoo parlor. Before you can overthink it and sprint back home, you pull open the door. The parlor is virtually empty, which made sense at this hour. The only person in the room is Jin, who sat behind the desk, scribbling something down. He’s wearing comfortable clothing, and has his glasses on. When the bell jingles, announcing your arrival, he glances up to meet your eyes.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” he says calmly, sitting back from his work.

“Hey.” You walk up to the desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he supplies, “Just working on some stuff. What brings you here?” The way he said it gave you the impression that he knew every single minute detail of last night’s debacle.

“Is Yoongi around?” You ask, feeling sheepish. You tried to shake it off—Jin was your friend, you could trust him.

“Yeah, he’s upstairs in his room,” Jin answers. “Want me to get him?”

“Would you?”

“Of course,” Jin says, his smile knowing. As your heart begins to race, Jin collected his papers and went up the stairs. It was silent for just a moment before you heard familiar footsteps thumping down the stairs. You looked up, and there was Yoongi in all his tired glory.

He’d showered since last night, and wore a simple pair of sweatpants and a shirt for a band you didn’t quite know. He gave you a small smile when you gave him an awkward wave.

“Hey,” you greeted quietly, once he stood directly across from you, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Yoongi nodded, “Still a little hungover, but feeling fine… You?”

“I’m okay. Jiyeon made me food, and that helped.”

“Oh, how is she? I heard she and Jimin are getting along.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, happy for your friend, “Their date went really well.” You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at speaking about the subject of dates and romance with him.

“That’s great. I’m glad they’re together.”

“Me too.”

Now you didn’t know what else to say, especially since he had only nodded and smiled in response. A silence enveloped the two of you, allowing the tension and awkwardness to fester in the air. After almost a minute, you couldn’t help but explode.

“Look, about the other night, I’m really sorry, it was really—“

He glanced at you. “Why are you apologizing?” His voice was so soft.

“—sudden, and I shouldn’t have overstepped like that—“

“Y/N,” he gently interrupts a second time, “Why are you apologizing?”

You look up into his warm eyes. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and melt into his embrace.

“Because I think I messed up,”

He nods, still as sweet as ever. “Do you... regret what happened between us...?”

“No, no, just—just how it happened, since I—,” You break off, too scared to say the next words.

“If I overstepped, I’m really sorry… being drunk is not an excuse—“

“No, it’s just that I like you a lot and it happening that way is less than ideal!” You blurt out, cheeks aflame. “Ah fuck, I’m sorry, you probably—It’s fine, I’ll just go, I’m sorry about all of this—“

Before you can even blink, he’s pulled you into his arms and silenced you with a kiss. Immediately, you respond to the kiss, melting into his arms and letting your hands run through his hair. The kiss is slow, passionate—conveying everything inside of him. You wanted to kiss him forever.

The kiss breaks all too soon for your liking, and your left staring up into his eyes, rosy cheeked and swollen lipped.

“That was nice,” You murmur awkwardly.

“Was it?” He says, arching a brow.

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

Yoongi smiles at you, gently cupping your left cheek in his hand. “I like you too, idiot. A lot.” He blushed. “I have for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he admits, moving his hand to your waist. He avoids your gaze—embarrassed—and you almost scream from how adorable it is and how happy you are. “I think I started liking you the second I saw you screaming about your stilettos.”

“Jiyeon’s stilettos,” you correct playfully, “There’s a reason I could hardly walk in them.”

He snorts. “Of course she owns shoes like those.”

“And I wasn’t screaming that night! Just loudly… protesting,” You joke, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Imagine if you had never lent me your jacket, Hot Pocket—“

“Hot Pocket?”

You snort. “Oh! Yeah, yeah, forget about that—“

“No, tell me,” Yoongi pressed with an amused smile, “You have to tell me, Y/N.”

“I don’t have to do anything!” You protest playfully.

“Except go on a date with me?”

“You—Wait, woah. Yoongi, that was pretty smooth.”

He gave you a dramatic flourish of a bow. “Thank you. I practice.”

“I can tell,” You tease, “And yes. I will go on a date with you.”

“Well you didn’t have a choice either way.”

“You’re so dumb,” You laugh, terribly happy.

Yoongi gives you a goofy smile before pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you. You lean into him, taking deep breaths of his comforting smell.

“I guess you’ll be coming by the parlor much more often now, huh?”

“Guess so,” You agree. “Maybe I’ll even get a tattoo.”

“I’ll be the one to do it, of course,”

“I want a tattoo of Jin’s face on my ass.”

“Sounds like a plan—wait, Jin? That gremlin?” He cries out dramatically. You let out a loud laugh, and soon he’s laughing with you. During your laughter, you press your forehead against his. You gaze deeply into his eyes, and feel happier than you’ve felt in a long, long time.

You kiss gently, and you feel a future and forever in his lips.

word count: 8,784

let me know if you guys want more!! thanks so much for giving it a read, and I hope you enjoyed it! (also feel free to let me know about any glaring grammar/spelling mistakes thank u I love u)

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

as the stars align 8/? (branjie) - rujubees

A/N: hollywood enemies to lovers au; 3.3k - also on ao3

As the few weeks of movie promotion unfolded, Brooke and Vanessa still hadn’t restored their relationship to what it used to be, but on a professional level they were better than ever. In every interview they were bouncing off of each other, lighting up the camera, the fans and the press already pronouncing them a dynamic duo. A video of the two of them playing Co-stars for Cash had even made the top twitter moment a couple of days, a sight which had almost given Vanessa a heart attack when she saw it.

It was fun, but it made her miss their true friendship more than ever. Since the moment they shared over her coming out, there hadn’t been a single interaction between them that wasn’t on film, or on a stage, or witnessed by outsiders.

There was only the premiere left, and awards season should they be so lucky to be nominated, and after that they’d have no reason to see each other unless they actually got their shit together and made their friendship work. It was dumb as hell to let one night get in the way of how far they’d come.

So if Brooke wasn’t going to be the first to reach out then fuck it, Vanessa would do it herself. That hoe wasn’t about to get rid of her so easily. After a few minutes of internally debating with herself, she decided to call Brooke before she lost her nerve.

“Vanessa, oh my God, is everything okay?” Brooke greeted her worriedly, thankfully picking up after only two rings.

“Yes! Yes, everything’s fine, I’m just bored, my girls are out of town. Sorry to blindside you like that babe,” Vanessa replied, trying sound as cool and platonic as possible. The ‘babe’ probably didn’t help her case there, but she let it slip out anyway.

“Yeah, off-days are weird,” Brooke laughed.

“You wanna, uh, grab a coffee or something?”

Brooke confirmed that she was down, and Vanessa hurried to make herself as presentable as possible in the short time she had. She put her dark curls up into a messy bun, applied some light makeup and decided that her favourite oversized hoodie and some tights would do.

Half an hour later, she was sat in Starbucks opposite Brooke. It had been a while since she’d seen the other woman without the professionally applied makeup and her hair done, and she looked straight up adorable in her fluffy turtleneck and jeans.

“Damn, I needed this,” Brooke said, sipping on her black coffee.

“I know. Bitch, I slept like a baby last night, but I swear I’m still exhausted after this months crazy-ass schedule. I need a nap for like, a week.”

Brooke nodded agreeably.

“Same, but I’m so restless. It’s like I don’t even know what to do with my time off.” Vanessa knew the feeling — it was hard to escape the feeling that she should be doing something, especially right now with her career reaching new heights. Every day was supposed to be a hustle.

“Well you can always hit me up, girl,” Vanessa said offhandedly with a grin. Brooke swallowed and didn’t smile back — maybe she was also thinking about the last time they spent proper, one-on-one time together — and Vanessa felt her mouth going dry. No, this was bad, very bad, no one person should have this much of an effect on her. They needed to be better at being friends.

“So, why’s the premiere happening in London anyway? Were all the LA theatres booked or somethin’?” Vanessa inquired, wanting to quell the nervous energy, even though she already knew why.

“Well, we only get one premiere. And Katya’s insisting that we all deserve a vacation away from LA.”

“Vacation is a weird word to describe five days in the UK shivering my pussy off,” Vanessa huffed. In reality, she was kind of looking forward to the trip — she had never been to Europe before, and she could see herself spending part of December living out her Love, Actually daydream.

“Don’t lie, you’re excited,” Brooke smiled. “Besides, you’ll have me there to keep you warm,” she winked.

Vanessa flushed at Brooke’s comment, perplexed as to why she was still going there after blatantly rejecting the idea of anything sexual between them only weeks ago.

Brooke kept up her flirty nature for the rest of their meeting together, and Vanessa felt like she was balancing two alter egos — the cheerful facade she was putting on for her company (which was surely unconvincing), and her spiralling inner monologue that was just trying to work Brooke out.

The mystery and iciness had been part of what had drawn Vanessa to Brooke Lynn, but right now she really wished she was more of an open book.

—

“I’ve ruined everything, Nina,” Brooke flopped onto her bed with a sigh, unable to care about the piles of clothes beneath her that were now being squashed. “I’m the dumbest person alive.”

“Trust me, I know. We share five brain cells between us, and I possess four of them,” Nina quipped unsympathetically as she attempted to organise Brooke’s packing for London.

“I’m serious you bitch. I literally can’t stop fucking up. I told myself that I’d done enough and that it’ll be a miracle if she even wants to be friends with me anymore, but then she said the sweetest words on how I shouldn’t feel pressured to come out and I swear to God…” Brooke trailed off, not wanting to divulge how she’d flirted with Vanessa in the cafe to no results. She felt like she’d promised herself, everyone she knew and their mom to keep things strictly friendship between the two of them, knowing that was all Vanessa was after, and yet —

it was as if there were small roots of hope growing inside her that just wouldn’t die, no matter how much she refused to water them, no longer allowing her mind to entertain the fantasy.

“Is this the part where you admit that you’re not over her?” Nina asked with a smirk. Brooke groaned in defeat — it wasn’t like lying to Nina or herself had gotten her anywhere thus far.

“Fine. I love her, is that what you wanna hear?” It came out like word vomit, and Brooke felt tears prick her eyes.

“My, my. The Ice Queen is thawed,” Nina pronounced ceremoniously, her faux shock exaggerated. Of course Nina would treat this as a goddamn improv exercise.

“Fuck you, Nina. I love her, I’m literally in love with her, what the fuck. Help me!”

“Aww, you can’t stop saying it. It’s pretty cute honey,” Nina giggled, plopping herself down next to Brooke on the bed. She started to rub comforting circles on Brooke’s back as Brooke’s tears began to fall.

“I’ve made such a mess.”

“Go from the start, B. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. You were always a pessimist.”

Brooke took a deep breath.

“On Halloween, when you forced us to talk, it was just… awkward. So I told her we didn’t have to discuss what happened between us, we should just leave it at that, and she agreed it was for the best, and then she looked so sad and I knew she regretted it ever happening because Lord knows what we used to have isn’t ever coming back…” Brooke burst out, feeling like a rambling, sobbing disaster of a human being. “Press was fun and we had that moment after Tatianna’s interview, and then we got coffee together and I thought things were going back to normal. And maybe they were, at least until I started flirting with her and made everything tense all over again. She’ll probably never act like that with me again, even in a friendly way, because it carries so much more weight now and she won’t want to give me the wrong idea…”

Nina handed her mug of tea, and Brooke didn’t think she’d ever been told to shut up in a more tactful way.

“Brooke, love. Have you ever thought that maybe the reason Vanessa was so upset on Halloween was because you essentially rejected her and shut her down before you guys could even properly discuss what happened and how you both feel?”

Brooke shook her head, frowning. There was no way that Vanessa actually wanted to be with her.

“Well, I think you should consider it. And you know I wouldn’t want you getting your hopes up for no reason. But it makes sense, Brooke. She was hurt by what you said but she was trying. But then you started flirting with her again, and now she’s confused.”

Brooke felt pathetic as her eyes sprung more waterfalls, competing with Niagara over which could be the most impressive tourist attraction. Both possibilities were bad — she’d either hurt Vanessa by ruining their friendship, or hurt her by breaking her heart.

“I know you find it hard to believe. But you deserve to be loved, Brooke. Vanessa would be lucky to have you.”

“I have to talk to her. For real,” Brooke said as she buried her face in tissues.

“Yes. But first, you have to pack.”

—

Brooke was going to talk to Vanessa.

But it had to be the right time. She didn’t want to contact her before London and risk everything going haywire before the premiere, so she would wait.

The days leading up to the trip were torture, and the flight to London was also a slog. Vanessa had looked strangely lonely as they’d waited in LAX, surrounded by her manager Ra’jah and the rest of their party, and Brooke wondered whether she missed Silky and A’keria. She assumed they wouldn’t be in London until later, if they were coming to the premiere at all. Perhaps Vanessa even missed Matt.

She’d sat by herself on the flight, a couple of rows in front of Brooke. Brooke had wanted to go and sit with her so badly, but with Asia to her left and Michelle to her right — locking her in conversation — it was hard to get away. When she finally slipped off to check on Vanessa, her co-star had fallen asleep, looking more soft and peaceful than Brooke had ever seen her, and Nina gave her a pitying passing glance on Brooke’s way back to her seat.

When they arrived at Heathrow airport, they were exhausted, though some of the group were still in good spirits, excited and delirious and somehow still finding things to laugh about as they whizzed through customs at a speed that Brooke had become used to after all her years of fame.

Brooke was too tired to socialise. She ushered Nina into one of the hired cars that was there to pick them up, and she definitely didn’t pick that specific one because she’d seen Vanessa get in it with Ra’jah already. And she certainly didn’t let her eyes flitter between the scenery outside her window and Vanessa, who was even prettier than the London skylines; a picture perfect view herself.

As they neared the centre of the city, Christmas lights became more and more abundant, and Brooke felt soothed as she noticed the creases and frowns in Vanessa’s face melt away.

It scared Brooke how much Vanessa’s happiness could make or break her own.

When they got to the luxury hotel they were staying in, it was gone midnight. Brooke checked her phone for the first time since landing and noticed few-hour old text from Yvie saying that her and Scarlet had made it to London— most of the cast and crew would be flying in individually, but Nina and Ra’jah had decided to work with Michelle, Asia and Katya’s plans in order to get a hotel discount. Or because they clearly thought Brooke and Vanessa’s idea of a relaxing vacation was spending five days with each other and their former bosses. Brooke didn’t particularly care to think about the reasoning right now, she just wanted to go to bed. Even though it was only four pm or so in LA, their flight had been in the early hours of the morning and she’d been unable to sleep on the plane, so she’d lost count of the hours she’d gone without rest.

“We have a slight situation,” Asia said as she walked over to the group with a grimace, the receptionist in tow.

“This is so embarrassing, and I am so sorry for any inconvenience, but it appears we have only reserved six rooms for your party instead of seven, and the rest of the hotel is fully booked for the next two nights,” the attendant said, young and clearly nervous. Brooke wondered how often he had to endure the repercussions mistakes likely made by others. She knew that the most practical option would be for two of the ‘single’ people — her, Vanessa, Nina, Ra’jah and Asia — to double up for the two nights they wouldn’t all be able to have their own rooms.

“Of course, you will be compensated for this error, and I can recommend other hotels within a walking distance if you should prefer…”

“Y’all couldn’t pay me nothin’ to go outside again tonight,” Vanessa piped up.

It was cold as hell and the more minutes they spent discussing this, the more minutes Brooke wasn’t in her bed.

“I agree, I really just wanna go to sleep,” Brooke chimed in.

“So will you two be okay to share?” Nina asked her, sounding perkier already, and Brooke would’ve sworn it was a set up if Nina hadn’t been as surprised as she was to learn of the mix-up.

“Uh, sure, if it’s okay with Vanessa,” Brooke said awkwardly. “Or you and I could room together.”

“I’m an old lady, Brooke, think of my back,” Nina spewed possibly the biggest load of bullshit Brooke had ever heard. Brooke rolled her eyes, knowing Nina was having the time of her life with this.

“Looks like we’re having a sleepover,” Vanessa confirmed, Brooke smiling cautiously in response. The receptionist apologised profusely once again and began handing out their keys —

“Nina, what the hell,” Brooke said under her breath as she stood close to the other woman.

“This could be exactly what you need, Brooke. You know you need to talk things out, you said so yourself.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to trap her into a conversation in the middle of the night in a foreign country,” Brooke hissed.

“Let’s go, roomie,” Vanessa called. Brooke sighed, as she tried to rack her brain and pinpoint the exact moment her life became such a fucking cliché.

—

Vanessa could deal with sharing a room with Brooke. She wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but it was only for two nights, and who knew whether they’d even make it to bed tomorrow with all the partying that was bound to occur after the premiere.

They each filed into the elevator, and when half the group started wheeling their cases out a couple levels up, all Vanessa could think was of course they put Brooke and I on the highest floor. All that was left was for the two of them to get stuck in the lift, alone, and to not be rescued until hours later. Vanessa held her breath the entire ride up, only letting it out when the doors closed on the floor below theirs, and Asia and Nina were still hadn’t left them.

“Now, remember Nina and I are right around the corner, and I have the hearing of a bat. So no funny business, you two,” Asia grinned cheekily. Vanessa wanted the ground to swallow her.

Brooke gave Nina a goodnight hug, and then the two of them walked silently a few doors down to their room.

Vanessa fiddled with the key card, trying to get it to work, but it was stubborn and Vanessa was faltering under Brooke’s gaze.

“I hate these damn things,” she stressed. Brooke took it from her, accidentally brushing her fingers in the process, mumbling an apology. When the light went green and the lock clicked open on her first try, Vanessa rolled her eyes in the darkness.

The room was cute — fairly spacious and mostly white with mahogany and burnt orange accents, the decor matching the warmth of the festive lights which sparkled outside their window. Vanessa had been disappointed when they’d arrived in London to the bitter cold yet none of the snow, but the shimmering river view was even more special than any kind of winter wonderland she’d conjured up in her mind.

“Fancy bath we got in there,” Brooke stated a few minutes later as she stepped out of their en suite, probably just to break the ice.

She was in a matching tank top and shorts, and Vanessa forced her eyes to stay on her face as much as they wanted to drift over Brooke’s long legs and soft cleavage.

“You sayin’ I smell or are you offering?” Vanessa deadpanned. In her hazy state of mind, she decided two could play at the game Brooke had started.

Because that was all Vanessa was to Brooke. A game.

Brooke wanted to tease and flirt and play with her, but she didn’t want her.

“Ha, you wish,” Brooke replied coolly, her voice slightly stilted. Apparently the day’s travels and the night’s hotel shenanigans had left the both of them tense. “Just letting you know it’s there, if you’re interested —”

“Well, it should put that on it’s dating profile,” Vanessa joked, feeling victorious when Brooke chuckled softly in response. “But for real girl, I’m beat, so unless you wanna be dragging my drowned corpse out tomorrow morning…”

“And get the bed to myself tonight? I’ll take it,” Brooke smiled.

“Bitch. If this is the last time y’all see me alive, it’s on you,” Vanessa stuck out her tongue, heading into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When she returned, Brooke had already closed the curtains and snuggled herself under the covers, her face lit up only by the light of her phone screen and the dull glow of Vanessa’s lamp.

“Hey,” Vanessa said quietly.

“She lives.”

The bed was big, much bigger than Vanessa’s double in her own apartment, and she climbed in the opposite side to Brooke, her heart physically aching at how content she felt lying beside her.

How right it felt, despite the last time they were in a hotel room together being under such different circumstances.

Even the roars and sirens of the bustling outdoor streets were unusually comforting.

“Vanessa?”

Brooke’s tone was questioning, and so faint Vanessa almost missed it.

“Yeah?” Vanessa whispered.

Brooke took so long to reply, Vanessa wasn’t sure whether she’d heard her either, or if she was even still awake.

“I…”

“Are you okay?” — worry was growing in Vanessa’s stomach and she wanted so badly to reach her hand across the distance between them.

“I just… I miss you. I’m sorry, I’m being dumb, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Brooke spoke so sadly and Vanessa knew she was crying even without seeing her face.

She’d been rejected, flirted with and now missed by this woman all in the space of a few weeks and the rational part of her brain was telling her that Brooke was just tired, she was in an unfamiliar place away from home and she would break Vanessa’s heart even worse if she made promises tonight that she couldn’t keep tomorrow.

Still, her hand searched for Brooke’s anyway, intertwining their fingers as their bodies stayed separate, her other thumb feeling Brooke’s cheek out and wiping away her tears.

“Let’s not talk about this tonight, okay? But I swear we will. And you know I ain’t a liar,” Vanessa vowed. She felt Brooke nod into her hand.

“Goodnight, Vanessa,” Brooke sighed as Vanessa turned her back to her, but shuffled closer, letting Brooke’s arm drape over her body.

“Goodnight Brooke.”

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #as the stars align #rujubees #lesbian au #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #angst #smut #fluff #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #concrit welcome

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ikonislife · 5 years

Text

Complicated.

-Yunhyeong x female reader

-friends to lovers? mentioned of sex, slightly nsfw

“You know, I’ve never really understood your no one-night-stand policy.” The spoon full of soup you had just inhaled through the wrong pipe spoke to the incredulous, not to mention shocking nature of the question that had just left your best friend’s lips.

“What’s so hard to understand about it?” Nearly coughing your lungs out, you finally found enough strength to gasp out a few words, no thanks to Yunhyeong’s aggressive patting on your back.

“Well, what if you’re like unbearably frustrated, then what?” The wide doe eyes, the seemingly innocent tone of his words made you questioned his very existent. How could someone, who had just asked for the reason why you weren’t opening up your legs at every opportunity, be so innocent that the thought of masturbation evaded his mind. Unless, he was chasing a very specific answer... That thought popped up in your mind for the single split second and so did hope. But this was Yunhyeong you were dealing with, he probably meant nothing by his words.

“Well how did you get rid of all your boners when you were a mere socially awkward teenage boy, and not this “charming prince” I’ve heard so much about.” Disgust slowly engulfing your face, earning you few more harsh pat, though you suspected these weren’t to help the small coughs still falling from your bruised lungs. “Well, beside having those nasty wet dreams about me, of course.”

“I did not have nasty wet dreams about you, get off your high horse.” The high pitch scoff falling from his lips and those wary glances, the exact opposite of the words being spoken. And that strange chuckle, the way he was trying to move past the fact that he had unashamedly stared at you that one summer when when the heaven decided to blessed you with clear skin and slightly more curves than the plank of a body your 14 years old self had... All of it raised even more questions in your heart than his strange question. Though you said nothing, playing along just to see where this conversation would lead your friendship to.

“Not according to Jinhwan that one summer at camp!”

“I hate that dipshit...Bet you didn’t even have to force it out of him” Yunhyeong muttered darkly, seemingly cursing his best friend to the depth of hell in his mind.

“You know it! That boy is weak for me, don’t know why you’re still telling him secrets.” Your sudden reminder of just how big of a crush Jinhwan had on you in high school and college somehow stealing all the colors off of Yunhyeong’s skin. A nervous chuckle ripped from his lips as his gaze began dancing about the room. You caught on, far sooner than the cough he heaved to rid himself of whatever that was that had possessed him during those few seconds. Again, you won’t utter a word until you were completely sure what he was playing at.

“Well, you still didn’t answer my question.”

“Why are you all TMI with me all of the sudden. Why are you all of the sudden curious about my kitty?” You’ve learn your lesson, his shenanigans won’t be having you snorting soup twice in the same hour. Pushing your bowl away, let you tempted to sip another spoon, you turned the question back on him, wholeheartedly curious just of what he was fishing for. But it was slowly becoming clear that perhaps your dear best friend might have a problem he somehow concluded only you can fix.

“When are we not TMI... And please, don’t refer to it as kitty again. I call my pet cat that and I don’t wanna be thinking of your...”

“My... litty kitty? vagina? pussy?” You jest, taking a moment to finish your food before the stammering man could say anything else to put you off of your meal.

“Are you on crack?!” It was his turn to spray your entire dining table with the monstrosity he called a bite. The look on his face, you wouldn’t say he was mortified nor disgusted but rather regrets of heading down a path in which he himself know not the destination. So he definitely had no idea himself where or if you would’ve entertained this conversation, good to know.

“No, you asked about my coital business, putting the p in my v, I’m just giving the audience what they want!”

“No, I changed my mind, let’s go back to kitty.” Dutifully cleaning after himself, Yunhyeong mused as he wiped up your dining table.

“Oh, come on. If you want to talk about my vagina and its business, at least have a the ball to call it what it is! It’s not that easily offended, you know.” Sighing, you loan a hand in cleaning up only for the man to swat it away, citing he could clean a few dishes himself. Honestly, if he wasn’t so dense to your feelings, you might just marry him one day. When was the last time you met someone like Yunhyeong, you weren’t too sure. One thing you were sure of was that none of your useless exes were even a corner of the man Song Yunhyeong was. He’s charming and it was honestly quite endearing the way he hadn’t realized himself just how much damage he could do to a girl’s heart. Wasn’t till you had let on just how big of a crush your cheerleader best friend had on him that he finally began to explore this new side of himself. The man is handsome, there was no arguing there but he was so much more than that. Beautiful soul, and wonderful personality to match the attractiveness of his smile, and alluring voice. He was always just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. You hadn’t really seen him as anything else but as time changed, heart grown, and people matured, there was always something more in the hugs he had given you despite them being the same as the one you hated with all your guts at 6 years old. Then came college and their little duo of Yunhyeong and Jinhwan suddenly expanded into 7 crackheads going through life together, wrecking hearts and intimate parts, building quite a reputation for themselves. The parties came and gone, same too were the girls and the restless late nights, all that remained in his life was their unbreakable friendships... And you. You’ve always looked at him the same way you had but now that your heart was capable of feeling love and pussy capable of telling a dickhead from a true man... One second he was just Yoyo and the next, you were so far gone, you hadn’t even a single course of action for this feeling festering. So you did what you do best, let it simmered and stewed in your heart, not a single word to the man you still called best friend despite wanting so much more.

“Fine, call your vagina whatever you want... just not kitty... Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just, whenever you say it, I just imagine you have a vicious lioness in between your legs that’s gonna bite my dick off if I’m mean to you or something.” He muttered darkly and for whatever reason, you were given the impression that Song Yunhyeong actually believed you have a real lion in between your legs, sharp teeth, pointy claws and all.

“Excuse me, but my pussy is a proud lioness and I will viciously attack you in her honor if you dare offend her.” You weren’t joking and he knew full well, wincing as he shut off the water, muttering something under his breath that sounding awful lot like “girls are so scary”, before joining you on the couch. “Plus, what kind of porn you boys be watching these days anyways. now I’m just imagining a porn actress with a CGI lion instead of a vagina.”

“Can’t speak for the other boys but, I definitely have not and will not want to see anything like that. Nightmares.” You couldn’t help but cowered when Yunhyeong let his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Though you knew he was just pushing and tugging at you to make himself a comfortable spot to lay down, it seemed all the more damning to your soul with the conversation at hand. “Anyways, you haven’t answer my question.”

“What else do you want to know? I just use my hands, toys, and whatever else that get the job done!”

“Toys, huh? So, just not a real dick?” He deadpanned and honestly, how was this man was the same person once refused with all his life to swim in the same pool as you, simply because you had graduated from frumpy one piece to wearing bikini.

“Are you offering?”

“Maybe if you start being nice to me!” A wink teasing a blush onto your cheeks, you worked quick to shove him off before he could catch on to your erratic heart.

“Never mind, being nice to you is no fun.” You slapped his chest but feeling the steady beats of his heart under your palm only fueled further the storm in your heart.

“But for real though, what’s the harm in sleeping with people just for pleasure?”

“There’s nothing wrong nor harmful about it. I applaud women who literally live for themselves and couldn’t care less about what people say and get what they want in life. But I just, I know myself and I know I catch feelings. I just don’t think it’s fair for anyone to be subjected to my delusional heart when all they looked for was sex. It’d be great if I could just for that moment, push aside all emotions and feelings and give into those primal urges, but I’m too scare that I can’t. Plus, there’s something about sex when you’re in love that I, I don’t know, addicted to.” You hoped with all your heart he’d just give up, of not putting you through the long winded road that had lead you to be this hopeless romance.

“What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t understand even if I explain it for the millionth time. You just have to experience it... You have experienced it, right?” The way his eyes grown three times its size, the innocent curiosity teetering at his lips with all the questions his heart could ever dream of asking... It made you wonder if Yunhyeong had ever experienced true love.

“I- I don’t know.” He stammered and your heart shattered.

“But, you’ve had girlfriends and... What about your first time?” You curled up in your seat, leaning forward with all the anticipation, and a curiosity that mirrored his, perhaps even more.

“Just because I’ve had girlfriends, it doesn’t mean I’ve experienced love or this complicated emotion you’re describing. And my first time? It was a drunken one night stand in the frat house.” As nonchalant as ever with his sexual conquest, honestly you weren’t so surprise that his was neither planned, nor painfully awkward as yours was. It was admirable the way he went about things, getting what he wanted without really ever letting frilly matters of the heart getting in the way.

“Oh. I see.”

“I mean, don’t pity me or anything. I had fun and I guess that just mean I’ll get to experience something super special in the future.” He noted the way the corners of your lips dipping slightly into the tiniest frown and suddenly his heart too, ached. “I guess you could say I’m still waiting for someone special.”

“I not, I swear! I don’t mean to be condescending about it. I’m sorry if it came off that way. I just, thought that you’d have experienced it with at least one of your girlfriends.” Silent gently blanketing over your small living room. You let your eyes glued to the nonsense blasting on the TV screen and he too, though much less focus.

“Uhm, I can’t promise to understand but can you still explain it anyways...” A sheepish grin on his lips, Yunhyeong got his fingers scratching the daylight out of his poor scalp, eyes flickering between yours and his tapping foot. Suddenly the suave lady-man disappeared, leaving behind the sweet boy that had tormented you with his care through your entire high school career.

“Well, when you’re in love with someone, you’ll always see them as the best thing in this world even when the days had been rough and life hadn’t been kind. They’ll always see the best version of you even if you were going through the worst day of your life. So, needless to say, the same principle applied to sex.”

Your explanation got Yunhyeong at the edge of his seat, blindly reaching for the remote to turn down the TV as he got his eyes glued on you. The way he was staring, it made you wondered if he was mentally jotting all these down as if you were giving a crash course on love.

“Even with something as silly as body hair, if someone truly love you, they wouldn’t let something as trivial as a little hair getting in the way of enjoyment. Or if out of stress, out of exhaustion, you happened to under-perform, they wouldn’t care because there were and will be countless times when everything is great. Things you’d think as embarrassing, things that you would think twice about telling just anyone, that person would just see it as curiosity, as exploration. My point is, without having to worry about superficials, you’ll enjoy sex for what it is, fully and truly, transcending just a physical act but emotionally and spiritually.”

“I see...” You could hear the cogs in his brain churning, teeth chewing his soft lips raw.

“With sex, you can’t just phone up someone and ask them-” The realization of just whom you were talking about hitting you squarely in the chest like a freight train against a tiny, unsuspecting bunny. “Well, actually no, you probably could just phone up some girl and she’d be more than happy to oblige.”

“I’m not that popular, you know.” He drawn out a heavy breath with a small jab to your side, earning himself a sharp gasp of a laugh from your lungs.

“Okay, but still, I’m sure if no one else would, Jinhwan would suck your dick.” Your little jab earned yet another sharp glare from the man, on the edge of just mauling you himself. “For me, just thinking about calling someone up to ask for a no string attach, one night stand already is mortifying enough. Then there’s also the issue of who can I call, will they laugh in my face, would they take advantage of the situation. There’s so many issue that honestly, i’d be put off long before actually going through with it.”

“I honestly, I’ve never really thought about sex in that way. It always was just a way to release my frustration, something I enjoy.”

“And nothing wrong with that, I’m just too complicated for my own good. Hell, even if I somehow managed to score myself a fuck buddy, it’ll always be quid pro quo. I love the moments after when you’re just laying there cuddling, trying to catch your breath, sticky and sweaty. Limbs entangled, trying to figure out if you should just clean up or try your best to tetris yourself around the cum stained spots and fall asleep. Then the morning after, stinky breath and bedhead, remnant of an entire night of fun crusted yet you feel content. I want all of that and unless it’s with someone I love, I’d be way too self conscious to let go and enjoy myself.”

As the last syllable leaving your lips to join the softening atmosphere, warming with feelings, Yunhyeong sat in silent and you let him be for what you had just unloaded, probably too heavy for a random Sunday afternoon. Perhaps needing time to absorb, perhaps any second now he’d burst out laughing at your outdated ideology, Yunhyeong hadn’t let on a single emotion since your words melted into the world. Whatever will come, at the very least you got to let your heart sing in front of the man who it truly belonged to even if he doesn’t know it. For now you’d just bask in the comforting, content quietness, rarely the case whenever you and him were bound in one room. It was strange, how light you felt despite not anywhere nearing to confessing your feeling, not even a hint for the oblivious man to hang onto. Perhaps for now this was enough, to let him know the kind of person you are, your true emotions and state of mind.

“Would it be strange if after all that, all I can think about is you?”

“Woah, slow your roll... What does that mean?” Nothing could ever hope to prepare you for this moment when Song Yunhyeong confessed he thought of you when he thought of emotionally complicated sex.

“I- I’m not sure but, i keep thinking about it. Holding hands, lazy morning in bed, sweaty and exhausted yet content and happy, cleaning each other up, showering that may or may not lead to more... All of that, all I can see is you.” The warmth behind his beautiful eyes screamed sincerity, yet you couldn’t help but let a bit of doubt lingering in your heart, stopping you from devouring the man this very second.

“Are you just saying that because I like poured my heart out to you?” You questioned, half hoping he’d say no, yet you won’t succumb to hope just yet.

“No, no, not at all. Come on, Y/n, I’m not that emotionally inept that I fall for someone just because of a speech.” He pinched your cheeks and truthfully you were glad for it hid the blush heating up your skin. “I mean, like when I think of those things, I see me, of course. But it’s not with just anyone, or a faceless person... I see you, just peacefully snoozing in my arms. I see your fucked out expression but also that smile you only sport when you’re extremely happy. And, perhaps that also explained why I’ve been feeling strange when you’re around.” He had your heart in his hand and with each second ticking by, with the closing distant between your body, you were just a bit closer to passing out from the immense happiness warming your soul.

“Are you, do you like me?!”

“I- I think so. I don’t know how else to explain how incredibly happy these thoughts are making me. And no! before you can go ruining it, it’s not cause I pictured you naked.” He got both hands on your cheeks, shaking your head slightly with a fake scowl on his lips.

“I wasn’t going to say anything...” You muffled out through your pursed lips, wishing he’d just end your pain already and kiss you.

“I know how your brain work, lady. You can’t fool me.”

“Touche... So, what does that make us?”

“I guess, I need to know where I stand in your life... Do you, does it make things weird for you now that I have these feelings?” He was cautious, oh so cautious because it wasn’t just getting turn down by a snooty rich girl. It was getting turn down by you, his best friend and perhaps the person his heart had been beating so erratically for.

“Uhm, that, that might take awhile. I have about 5 years worth of feeling to catch you up on.” Eyes falling onto your laps, heart nearly leaping out of your chest, you couldn’t bear saying those words with Yunhyeong watching so closely.

“Fi- Five years?! God, Y/n, were you ever going to tell me how you feel?” His shriek of surprise nearly sending you tumbling onto the ground had it not been for the hands holding your shoulders.

“No, honestly. I’m sappy and all that but I’m just a chicken... If there’s even a 1% chance you’ll say no, I will keep my mouth shut for the rest of my life.”

“I- So if i hadn’t start this weird conversation, you would’ve never told me...”

“Pretty much...”

“You’re right, we have a lot to talk about.” A heavy sigh falling from his lips. To think all these years he had been bragging, smug about the girls he had slept with and the parties he had conquered. Knowing you’ve been listening, eating up all his words even when it was damaging to your heart...“And about what’s going to happen now... Well, I definitely do not want to rush into anything... You’re too precious for me to just fuck things up because I’m impatient.” As much as he’d like to whisk you off your feet and maybe finally experienced this new world of physical love, there were still too many things unsaid.

“I’m precious?!” You gasped with a bright smile on your lips, and as adorable as that was, it was becoming very distracting for his brain to properly function.

“Focus, woman!”

“Right, sorry...”

“But at the same time, I don’t want to drag things out for so long that it jeopardize our feelings. So how about we just take things slow, go on a couple dates and just see how it plays out?” He proposed an offer that you could never turn down.

“I’d like that.” And though neither of you yet brave enough to let a kiss bloom, Yunhyeong had finally worked up enough courage to pull you into his arms. He held you for what felt like an eternity, feeling the fluttering of butterfly in his stomach, in his heart, and in his soul. It was so strange, the nervousness, the anticipation, it wasn’t anything new, anything he hadn’t experienced before. Yet this very second, it felt as though the world ceased to exist and it was just you and him, sharing body heat and soft words, stories of the past, and plans for the future. Yunhyeong wondered if this was what you meant because if everything you had said was true, he couldn’t wait for the day when kisses won’t be a rare occurrent and he’ll be able to love, worship you in every way he can.

#yunhyeong #yunhyeong scenarios #ikon #ikon scenario #ikon imagines #ikon fanfic #song yunhyeong

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