#visual change

    “…what the fuck did you do to me?”

“Why don’t you just rip my hair out while you’re at it? I’ve been meaning to get a haircut forever.”

“I’m being as gentle as I can! Besides, shouldn’t you be thanking me for giving up my precious time to come and help you out?’

“… Just hurry up and rinse this shit out of my hair so I can kick your ass for making me bald.”

With his eyes squeezed shut, Yoongi couldn’t see Jimin but he could sense the eye roll that was given before the hands in his hair began only moved faster and sent his neck bending at any even more uncomfortable angle with each tug. 

He didn’t know what he was thinking, letting the other help him dye his hair. He should’ve just gone to a professional. It would’ve saved him the pain of sending Jimin out to get the dye. But then again, he was just adding more color to the fading pink so it’d be a waste-

“… Uh, Yoongi?” Jimin’s hands slowly retreated from his hair, turning off the stream of water coming from the bathtub’s faucet before the other’s presence ever so slowly crept away from him.

“Are you finally done?” Yoongi couldn’t help the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips as he raised his head and dried the wet strands of his hair with a towel resting by the tub. His knees ached as he pulled himself from his kneeling position, dragging himself to his sink to take a glance in the mirror.

“What the fuck, Jimin?!” 

“I’m sorry! I must have grabbed the wrong package at the store or something!”

The now blonde boy’s eyes traveled back and forth between Jimin and the reflection of his blonde hair in the mirror. 

Breathe, Yoongi, breathe… you shouldn’t kill your friends…

     “ - tattoo?”

Dongwoo’s eyes trailed over the dark swirls swimming across the tight skin of the man’s hand, his inked fingers curling around the numerous bags of chips and packs of gum as he rung up the items and shoved them into plastic bags. The boy followed the stream of ink down the cashier’s hand, roaming over the tatted strings of veins around his wrist and arms. 

Dongwoo didn’t even register that the man across from him was speaking. His eyes were still deciphering the lines, too busy to notice the glare settling on his wandering eyes or the annoyed voices sounding from the people in line behind him. 

His eyes had only wandered back down to the other’s hand when it raised to give him the finger, an disapproving glare meeting his stare before the boy was quickly handing over the needed money, almost leaving his bags as he ran as fast as he could out of that store.

After deeming himself a reasonable distance away from the building, Dongwoo pulled out his phone, calling upon the magic of google’s wonders as he searched for the nearest tattoo parlor - there was no way he was going back home without one of those.

The sting in his back afterwards only made him regret his decision a tiny bit. And even as his his mother nagged him for ruining his “perfect skin”, he couldn’t bring himself to care because he now has a hella cool tattoo on his back.