If Taehyung And Yoongi Were Colors, Theyd Be On The Opposite Ends Of The Spectrum. It Applies To Everything

If Taehyung and Yoongi were colors, they’d be on the opposite ends of the spectrum. It applies to everything that has to do with their lives, one of them being the clothes they wear. Yoongi is more of a monochromatic man, while Taehyung never misses a day to look vibrant.

Maybe the universe is fucking with them, because the day Yoongi chooses to step out of the black-and-white getup he usually wears, is also the day he meets Kim Taehyung after not seeing him for the past four months.

It’s after he rakes eyes down the younger’s body that Yoongi realizes they’re both in the similar brownish hue, looking like autumn and pumpkin spice latte even though spring has just ended.

Yoongi also notices that both of them have hairs with the ‘cold’ colors, looking like a paradox that completes each other in some way. Taehyung has his blue hair light though, keeping it bright unlike Yoongi who opts for dark purple for his strands.

“Hi, Yoongi hyung,” the younger greets in that low timbre of his, “long time no see.”

The smile he offers after is short, a hesitant gesture and Yoongi wonders if he’s even worth the smile.

“Hey, Taehyungie.” Old habits die hard, they say, but Yoongi doesn’t have the time to amend his slip-up as Taehyung goes to his side before beginning to walk, forcing him to do the same.

There’s a reason the older hasn’t seen Taehyung for months, and it’s because they are in different departments of the campus, they would have to make effort to meet. There hasn’t really been the need to, since they.. well. But Taehyung is here now.

Yoongi voices his thoughts aloud (he’s always been known for his bluntness and Taehyung’s always been known for not minding, so) to which Taehyung replies that he’s here to see someone today, who’s monochromatic like Yoongi but a bit brighter, that’s why Taehyung is wearing a more muted color, to prevent from scaring this said person away. Yoongi huffs out a laugh at that, and says no one is going to be scared of you, Taehyung.

Taehyung only smiles at that, and Yoongi notices that he’s really close that the back of their hands occasionally brush each other’s with their movement. It saddens Yoongi that he only feels bland at the knowledge, and briefly wonders if Tae feels that way too.

Yoongi feels the tiniest brush of Taehyung’s pinky finger on his forefinger first than the breath the younger let out in a whisper of his name, but he could’ve easily imagined it because it’s gone as fast as it appeared.

“Taehyung!”

And Yoongi figures that’s the reason Taehyung retracts his finger, the person shouting Tae’s name with a big smile on his face.

“Oh, hyung, you’re here too,” the person says upon noticing Yoongi’s presence there.

“Hi, Kiddo.” Yoongi lets out a genuine smile.

Taehyung was right, this person is similar to him and also wears black all the time. He’s also a bright kid who smiles a lot more than Yoongi, and he thinks Taehyung would go along well with this kid.

Yoongi steps away. “I guess this is my cue to leave,” he says, “I’ll see you around, Kiddo, Taehyung.” He nods to each person before walking away.

Yoongi hopes that Taehyung has put everything behind, just like he already has.

“You know Yoongi hyung?” Jeongguk asks when Yoongi disappears from their sight.

Taehyung doesn’t take his eyes away from where Yoongi turned in the corner as he answers.

“Just an old friend.”

april 21st, 2019

masterlist | secreto

I'm sorry but that pic is not Jungkook but kai from exo twitter/com/kaipics/status/1361329424667443201

hi! thanks for letting me know. i have taken down the post and probably will take it out from the masterlist altogether if i don't find any fitting pic of jk^^

“Nervous?”

The one-worded inquiry makes him blink, pulling him out of the trance he seemed to be in. The round of his eyes meet yours in the mirror, crinkling at the edges in a smile upon seeing one on your lips as well.

“Kind of.”

Your smile turns playful as you give him a light slap on the shoulder. “Didn’t know that’s an emotion you’re capable of feeling.”

He chuckles, but doesn’t deny it. Maybe he can’t believe it himself, because throughout the years you’ve known him, he’s never got nervous.

He’s always confident, diving head first into whatever he’s got his attention on at the time and trusting that everything will work out in the end. No second thoughts, no self-doubt, no what-if’s.

This time, though, you think he has every right to be nervous.

“You’ll do great, don’t be nervous,” you reassure him when you see the cloud of doubt still present in his eyes. “You’ll be okay.”

“Will I, though?” The smile he gives you is sad, and although he only said three words, you heard a thousand.

You pretend to take his words at face value, stare unwavering even when his own starts shaking. After one minute of silence that feels like forever, he lets out a whisper that breaks your heart into a million pieces.

"Is there really no other chance?”

The two words he purposefully left out ring loud in your ears, and it takes everything in you not to wrap your arms around him like you used to.

“There was no chance to begin with, Jeongguk.”

If he notices the way your voice quiver, he doesn’t say it.

Instead, he reaches for your hand, eyes silently pleading as he intertwines his fingers with yours. They fit perfectly like he’s meant to be yours, and you wonder what had you done in your past life to receive such a cruel fate from the universe.

There’s a knock on the door and you both rip your hands away from each other’s, alarmed eyes falling on the person who just knocked. It’s a staff who tells Jeongguk he has five minutes until it’s time to go before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone once again.

He breathes out a huge sigh, standing up to fetch his suit jacket from the hanger. You beat him to it, holding the jacket in your hand, ready to help him put it on.

He doesn’t say anything as you go behind him to do so, pretending to be busy fixing the way the jacket sits on his shoulders.

Only when you put your hands on said shoulders gently that he looks up, eyes meeting yours in the mirror once again.

“Smile, Jeongguk,” you say through a smile as well, one you fight so hard to be genuinely happy and not stained with tears. “You’re supposed to be happy today.”

He stares at you like he can see past your facade.

You clear your throat before stepping away from him, hands falling from his shoulders to your side.

“Well, I better go now. Don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

“Can I get one last hug?”

It’s rushed, words tumbling over one another, like he’s afraid you’ll be gone before he can finish the request. But it’s hopeful, tinged with a bit of longing, and you can’t find it in you to deny him of his simple request.

You put your arms around his neck while his go around your waist, his body warmth familiar and welcomed. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and it comes out shaky, tears pricking the back of your eyes. You close your eyes to will the tears to go away.

The hug lasts four seconds too long as you both try to collect your thoughts. You pull away only to see his eyes coated with unshed tears, yours no doubt not much different.

“I should go,” you whisper.

“You should,” he agrees.

You open the door to go, yet can’t help glancing back at the man you just had in your arms mere seconds ago. He gives you a smile, and a lone tear rolls down his cheek.

“Good bye, bub.”

The old nickname makes you smile as well, but you think it’s his way of telling you it’s time to part ways.

“Good bye, Jeongguk.”

september 1st, 2022.

written to commemorate jeon jeongguk's birthday.

masterlist | secreto

“You look puffed up, what’s up?”

You cackle as Jeongguk rolls his eyes while huffing, making his cheeks even rounder than they initially are.

“Ate ramyeon last night then fell asleep afterwards, you know I bloat up if I eat before going to sleep.”

You smile at his reply, finding amusement in his pursed lips and puffy cheeks. You poke a finger into his cheek, right over the scar on his left cheekbone that you’ve always liked though you’d never mention that aloud.

“It’s okay, chubby cheeks look good on you.” You grin.

Jeongguk snorts, but lets a small smile take upon his lips as he stares at your eyes with adoration swimming in the galaxies beyond his irises.

“Thanks, your rhymes are cute too.”

That small smile breaks into a shy grin, and you decide that chubby-cheeked Jeongguk is your favorite Jeongguk.

february 18th, 2019

masterlist | secreto

gonna queue the rest of pic drabble once a day until the latest one (the jk sitting down one hahah). i’ll pin the pic drabble masterlist for easy access 😗😗😗

a/n: you = jeongguk, i = reader

“Oh, there’s a vending machine! Let me grab a snack real quick.”

Your excitement upon spotting the big, rectangular object amazes me, not because it is childish, but because even something so mundane like a machine filled with snacks can make your eyes gleam in glee.

Sometimes I envy you and your ability to appreciate even the tiniest of things as if you’re seeing the world through the eyes of a seven year-old. Nonchalant to the harsh realities the world has shown you time and time again, acting like they don’t affect you.

How do you do that? How do you be the white in the black we call reality? How do you maintain that level of innocence, seemingly untainted in a world full of ink splatches?

Now I’m rambling, just because you’re excited to see a vending machine.

Speaking of black, you’re currently trying to purchase some bags of chips by sliding your black card in the card reader. I watch in amusement as the machine does nothing, making you repeat the action of sliding your card several times, to no avail.

You turn your head around and your eyes catch mine, round in confusion and a tiny bit of frustration.

“It won’t accept my card,” you say in an almost angry whisper, holding up said card as if it was the culprit of this whole thing.

“Let me—“

I snatch the black object from your hand, quickly doing the motion that you have repeatedly done in the past few minutes. The machine still doesn’t respond, and the words slide a credit card on the card reader start to feel like they’re mocking me right in the face.

“Your card’s broken,” I deadpan, handing it back to you who accepts it with an open mouth in a silent the-audacity.

As i reach for my wallet to fish for my own card, you hurriedly splutter a defense statement of but it’s never been rejected before!

I shrug, pulling out my credit card that looks really cheap compared to yours, the red plastic shining dully in the harsh lighting of the room. The black card that’s still in your hand glows in all its sleek glory, giving a pitiful glance at mine that resembles a chicken.

The machine lets out a beep!, signalling that my card is accepted and you’re now free to select the snacks you’ve been eyeing for the past fifteen minutes.

“Hurry, we have a plane to catch.” I nudge your shoulder when you make no move to choose a snack.

You give one last glance of betrayal at your black card™ before finally pressing the buttons that correspond to the snacks you want. I can’t help but notice that you select my favorite ones as well, without my even voicing it aloud.

“Bill me,” you say while handing me my snacks, keeping yours safe in your arms. “I can’t believe a vending embarrassed me by letting you pay for me.”

I chuckle as we step away from the machine, tearing open my bag of chips and offering you some.

“Chill, you can pay me back by letting me sleep on your shoulder on the plane.”

My answer makes you grumble under your breath, something about how I always do that anyway without you needing to pay any debt to me. I grin as we find ourselves seats to settle while waiting.

“But, hey!” I slap your shoulder once realization hits me. “I can’t believe you’re too rich to buy from a vending machine!”

I laugh at your demise, and you shove me playfully to show that you’re not actually mad that I laughed at your face for being rich.

“Can’t believe I lost to a vending machine.” You seem to stop, but then adds as an afterthought: “And you.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!”

And as we play fight with each other, I silently wish that it will always be like this. Simple, innocent, pure, without being tainted by the glaring difference of dull red and sleek black.

august 18th, 2020

masterlist | secreto