Yoongi spares a quick glance to his roommate and (god help him) best friend, lying face down on the floor with his arms limply at his side – and decides that he’s safe to peruse a little longer, scrolling back up the chat to click the link ‘Kim Seokjin’ had sent earlier.

Kim Seokjin, the one and only. Yoongi’s not big on celebrity culture and doesn’t have any taste for fashion, but he knows about Kim Seokjin.

Kim god damn Seokjin.

He’s heard every detail of Kim Seokjin’s life, down to the delicate intricacies imposed in the selfies Kim Seokjin uploads (Yoongi can’t see it – to him, they still look like quick snaps taken in the moment, but whatever). He’s had to scroll past every single ing tweet Kim Seokjin posts because Namjoon can’t help but smash that god damn retweet button like his life depends on it.

Kim Seokjin has ruined Yoongi’s roommate and stolen his best friend, and he apparently doesn’t even know it.

“Mmmpf,” Namjoon groans on cue, voice muffled by their carpet as the page loads on Namjoon’s phone. Yoongi pays him no mind, turning his attention back to the device just in time to be greeted by a horrifically soft collection of pink tones and – books.

Yoongi doesn’t really get Tumblr. Namjoon had forced him to try, but it didn’t quite click – and so Yoongi’s blog had faded into the back of his mind. Clearly some people enjoyed it, though, evident by the effort in every single post this guy makes.

Namjoon’s phone vibrates in his hand, but Yoongi just ignores it to scroll through whatever the this is.

“Joon, what’s this say,” Yoongi says, squatting down and ing the phone to Namjoon’s face. “Namjoon.”

“Can’t you see I’m falling apart,” Namjoon mumbles, but twists around to look nevertheless. Yoongi supposes he could just translate it on Naver, but then he might miss some underlying implication or tone – and besides, it’s two-birds-one-stone if it also snaps Namjoon out of his funk.

“Study with me,” Namjoon says blankly, and Yoongi nods like he already knew that (he didn’t. His English is abysmal).

Yoongi quickly thumbs down the page, landing on a random post. “What about this?”

Namjoon frowns. “I love pastel pink,” he reads out, eyes shifting up to Yoongi. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi says quickly – and almost believes it. His eyes catch on one last photo, a workbook titled Music Composition, before Namjoon’s pushing himself upright. Yoongi swipes away from the blog to land back in the conversation, but takes note of the URL for...’safekeeping’