#`message

[exfanxyoongi]

"who could ever love you...?"

yoongi had to take a step back. he knew maria was rough; she was brokenglass and flash fires and blood. he thought this would blow over in a matter ofminutes, be one of those meaningless squabbles they always had at least once aweek because maria’s head was too hot but yoongi’s was held too high andneither of them were known for being tolerant of anything much. but the lastthing he expected was for her to hit him with so low a blow.

“yeah, well,” hemutters, pushing past her to go for the door. “that makes two of us, right?”

[exfanxyoongi]

“you’re just a kid.”

“oh, fuck off, maria. what are you, my mother?” yoongi feltthe heat rise in his cheeks, turning redder than maria’s tulips, probably. he knewhe shouldn’t have told her about it. what possessed him to think she of all peoplewould take him seriously. hardly anyone did, really. just because the majorityof his friends were all over twenty with sorta-stable jobs, they were just entitledto bring up the age card. every time. he so needed to talk to more people whostill went to school, yoongi thought, blowing some stray hair out of his eyes. “pffft.whatever. i don’t need your approval. i’m gonna do it.” he brought hisfist down on the counter in determination. “i’m gonna steal the declaration ofindependence.”

[exfanxyoongi]

"it's the normal people that scare me."

“they’re not so bad,” yoongi mumbled, leaning over thebalcony railing. according to him, he was pretty much a mortal until just a fewmonths ago—he was never going to get used to being other, being strange,being anything other than normal. he understood a good part (he didn’t know howmuch) of fantasia embraced their godly identity fully, distinguished themselvesfrom human beings like they were still the same deities they were in the eighthcentury bc. yoongi was still the same the mortal kid who used to sneakcentipedes into the sandbox in kindergarten. “i mean. yeah, mortals don’t gothrough some of the weird shit we have to; no identity crises or uncontrollablepowers for them—what would they do to us if they found out about fantasia,right? but i feel sorry for ‘em. can’t even handle having different skincolors. they’re not as scary as they are scared, i guess is what i’m trying tosay. scared of different.”

[exfanxyoongi]

“You don’t want to hurt me.”

“’you don’t want to—‘?” rage had always left him short ofbreath. this was just rich. “’you don’t want to hurt me’?” his secondattempt at formulating coherent sentences was more successful. “oh, i want to doa whole lot more than hurt you but you’re fucking lucky i don’t wantto find myself in fucking juvenile court for murder! oh, i swear to god.”his hands formed claws in her direction, wanting very desperately to get a goodgrasp around her tiny neck. “i am this close to seriously maiming you.maybe you should have thought things through before you decided to fucking sellmy essays over the internet!”

[exfanxyoongi]

“Everyone dies so what’s the meaning in all this?”

yoongi stared at her, deadpan, for a good five to sevenseconds. “well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine today. i, too, resent life for itsbrevity and predictability and do strongly believe that there is no meaning toany of it.” yoongi briefly considered setting more rules for himself, like nosarcasm on weekends. that wasn’t fair, though, weekends were meant to befun! that rule wouldn’t last five seconds. “what’s with the morbid curiositytoday?” he leaned on the counter of the flower shop, idly picking up straypetals that had landed there. “aren’t you supposed to be the nymph of flowersand life and like, you know, wholesome happy stuff?”

[exfanxyoongi]

☺

☺ »  do they prefer sour or sweet treats?

sour, to match his outlook on life

[exfanxyoongi]

“Tell me your troubles and doubts.”

“should we hold hands and cry into ten thousand won’s worthof chocolates while we’re at it?” whoops. yoongi should probably benicer to the people who weren’t making his life a living hell by settingunreasonable deadlines before which unreasonable workloads must beaccomplished. and he wasn’t doing a very good job of being nice or accomplishingworkloads at the moment. “ahem. sorry, noona. i’m just kind of…stressed…rightnow.” understatement of the century! “like i swear, i’m not even sure ifi’ll make the grade retention requirement by the end of this semester. seriously,i am probably destined to be a hobo.” the images. “oh, jesus, i can seeit now.”