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[TEASER] finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin
ji changmin x reader
with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.
inspired by ➵ "seasons" by wave to earth, the last five years
general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, the last five years story-telling method aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward (i hope that makes sense), missed chances, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, hurt/comfort, jealousy remains but love triumphs, tiger parents, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all
word count ➵ est. 10-15k
playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by renee rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth
a/n ➵ shhhhhhh.... i know that i'm still writing this but a lil motivation and accountability goes a long way SOOO !!! this is just a lil teaser for the upcoming jichang fic for the deoboyznet event <33 thank you again to my lovely @hcuyk for beta reading !!! (i've only written 1/4 please understand.) but i'm dedicating this to my lovely @sungbeam whose love for changmin is one i'll forever feel even to my ribs and @wavesmp3 who forever remains an inspiration in the way i write </3 plus, i've posted these snippets anyway so :P if ure interested in this fic, feel free to ask to be part of the taglist for this! and dont forget to always leave feedback <3
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlists
it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.
the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.
a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was home cooked, something from home.
the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.
your tastebuds long for cheongju.
“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”
you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stocking up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”
“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”
“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”
“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”
your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”
“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”
you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.”
“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”
the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob quickly runs away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.
still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.
then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.
your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.
and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.
but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.
but he bites the inside of his cheek, and his dimples appear.
it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?
you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.
your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”
“yeah, about that…”
“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”
at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”
“what? why?”
you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”
“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”
“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”
“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”
an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”
and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—
“y/n?”
and the plan failed.
when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.
all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”
a beat passes.
“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)
taglist ➵@winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs
#reviewed and approved#dora 🥀#AHHH ILY ILY#thank u!!! im really excited to see everyone's reviews on the fic soon enough <333#these rbs really mean alot because it truly does give me motivation
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[TEASER] finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin
ji changmin x reader
with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.
inspired by ➵ "seasons" by wave to earth, the last five years
general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, the last five years story-telling method aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward (i hope that makes sense), missed chances, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, hurt/comfort, jealousy remains but love triumphs, tiger parents, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all
word count ➵ est. 10-15k
playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by renee rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth
a/n ➵ shhhhhhh.... i know that i'm still writing this but a lil motivation and accountability goes a long way SOOO !!! this is just a lil teaser for the upcoming jichang fic for the deoboyznet event <33 thank you again to my lovely @hcuyk for beta reading !!! (i've only written 1/4 please understand.) but i'm dedicating this to my lovely @sungbeam whose love for changmin is one i'll forever feel even to my ribs and @wavesmp3 who forever remains an inspiration in the way i write </3 plus, i've posted these snippets anyway so :P if ure interested in this fic, feel free to ask to be part of the taglist for this! and dont forget to always leave feedback <3
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlists
it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.
the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.
a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was home cooked, something from home.
the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.
your tastebuds long for cheongju.
“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”
you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stocking up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”
“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”
“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”
“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”
your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”
“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”
you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.”
“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”
the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob quickly runs away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.
still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.
then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.
your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.
and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.
but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.
but he bites the inside of his cheek, and his dimples appear.
it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?
you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.
your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”
“yeah, about that…”
“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”
at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”
“what? why?”
you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”
“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”
“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”
“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”
an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”
and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—
“y/n?”
and the plan failed.
when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.
all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”
a beat passes.
“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)
taglist ➵@winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs
#reviewed and approved#bernie 🪆#ily ily ILY!!!#i hope u enjoy this#u know us... we love that musical
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[TEASER] finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin
ji changmin x reader
with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.
inspired by ➵ "seasons" by wave to earth, the last five years
general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, the last five years story-telling method aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward (i hope that makes sense), missed chances, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, hurt/comfort, jealousy remains but love triumphs, tiger parents, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all
word count ➵ est. 10-15k
playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by renee rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth
a/n ➵ shhhhhhh.... i know that i'm still writing this but a lil motivation and accountability goes a long way SOOO !!! this is just a lil teaser for the upcoming jichang fic for the deoboyznet event <33 thank you again to my lovely @hcuyk for beta reading !!! (i've only written 1/4 please understand.) but i'm dedicating this to my lovely @sungbeam whose love for changmin is one i'll forever feel even to my ribs and @wavesmp3 who forever remains an inspiration in the way i write </3 plus, i've posted these snippets anyway so :P if ure interested in this fic, feel free to ask to be part of the taglist for this! and dont forget to always leave feedback <3
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlists
it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.
the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.
a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was home cooked, something from home.
the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.
your tastebuds long for cheongju.
“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”
you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stocking up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”
“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”
“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”
“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”
your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”
“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”
you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.”
“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”
the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob quickly runs away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.
still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.
then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.
your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.
and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.
but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.
but he bites the inside of his cheek, and his dimples appear.
it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?
you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.
your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”
“yeah, about that…”
“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”
at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”
“what? why?”
you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”
“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”
“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”
“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”
an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”
and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—
“y/n?”
and the plan failed.
when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.
all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”
a beat passes.
“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)
taglist ➵@winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs
#reviewed and approved#beam 💫#i am always in awe whenever u say you wanna film a certain scene ive written#u would say how much of my fics that uve read could be seen in movies or dramas#and that genuinely means alot :'))#as a comm student i love it and i love you#im so excited for u to read it!!!!
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[TEASER] finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin
ji changmin x reader
with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.
inspired by ➵ "seasons" by wave to earth, the last five years
general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, the last five years story-telling method aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward (i hope that makes sense), missed chances, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, hurt/comfort, jealousy remains but love triumphs, tiger parents, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all
word count ➵ est. 10-15k
playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by renee rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth
a/n ➵ shhhhhhh.... i know that i'm still writing this but a lil motivation and accountability goes a long way SOOO !!! this is just a lil teaser for the upcoming jichang fic for the deoboyznet event <33 thank you again to my lovely @hcuyk for beta reading !!! (i've only written 1/4 please understand.) but i'm dedicating this to my lovely @sungbeam whose love for changmin is one i'll forever feel even to my ribs and @wavesmp3 who forever remains an inspiration in the way i write </3 plus, i've posted these snippets anyway so :P if ure interested in this fic, feel free to ask to be part of the taglist for this! and dont forget to always leave feedback <3
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlists
it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.
the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.
a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was home cooked, something from home.
the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.
your tastebuds long for cheongju.
“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”
you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stocking up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”
“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”
“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”
“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”
your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”
“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”
you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.”
“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”
the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob quickly runs away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.
still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.
then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.
your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.
and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.
but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.
but he bites the inside of his cheek, and his dimples appear.
it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?
you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.
your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”
“yeah, about that…”
“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”
at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”
“what? why?”
you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”
“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”
“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”
“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”
an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”
and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—
“y/n?”
and the plan failed.
when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.
all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”
a beat passes.
“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)
taglist ➵@winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs
#the boyz x reader#ji changmin x reader#ji changmin angst#ji changmin fluff#the boyz imagines#ji changmin imagines#the boyz scenarios#ji changmin scenarios
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“i don’t understand what’s happening in palestine so i won’t comment on it” of course you don’t understand. most of us will never understand what it’s like to go for months without electricity, without water, without literal food. most of us won’t understand what it’s like talking to loved ones at lunch and then having to witness their bodies in body bags by dinner. no, you will never understand what that feels like—but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care. that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t educate yourself. that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t donate. there’s only one thing uglier than willful ignorance—and that’s willful ignorance borne from selfishness and a severe lack of compassion. if you care anything about humanity as a concept, palestine should be your problem regardless of who you are, where you live, or where you’re from.
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first to know you, first to love you ➵ eric sohn
all you should care about is graduating with flying colors, so why are you starting to care about your seatmate?
requested by @mosviqu @sohnric for the song "valentine" by laufey
general genre/warnings ➵ strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, afab reader (they/them pronouns), reader is a psychology student who has so much aspirations (and also believes love and studies cannot be balanced), eric is your seatmate-turned-friend-turned-lover, library dates reading dates study dates you name it!, eric is the most supportive guy out here, he annotates a book for you..., references to books and poetry, he buys you stuff, and he reads a book for you!!, slight hurt/comfort, kissing, also unedited IM SORRY!!!
word count ➵ 10k words
taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel
a/n ➵ okay i am WITHIN the word limit!! but i know i went over the limit of scenarios (this may be the last time this happens... i don't know yet... help?) but i hope you enjoy this bar!! i am not too happy about my writing style for this one :') and i know reader may not be very "black cat" as i know you but i hope you'll still enjoy it to the fullest </3 also i made sure to not mention anything related to height LMFAO for the other readers: if you enjoyed this, always make sure to reblog (even if it’s on your tbr)!
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masterlist
The years spent in university may be defined differently by everyone. Some may live out these years to enjoy the supposed independence they craved in high school. Others may spend those years exploring their interests and hobbies as they figure out what their future may have in store for them.
You, however, were a different case—head in scientific journals and coursework with a plan to graduate summa cum laude. As you study in a quota course, you’re determined to come out of university with flying colors. In a sea of students who are of similar (or even better) skill sets as you, the desire to be recognized as one of the top students is what you long for.
And for you, that means you were set on not entertaining ideas that may divide your attention from your studies—you were not going to allow yourself to fall in love in your years of university.
That is until a certain boy who goes by Eric Sohn came into your life.
CHAPTER ONE: LOVE LABORS LOST
The season of summer still lingers in the air; birds chipper as they sit on the tree branches; the sun glows yellow in the sea of blue; people point their fans at themselves as they are forced to bask in the heat.
But the new academic year has commenced, and you are determined to ace your classes once more. You’ve read the syllabi of all the classes you were going to take, even ones for your general subjects. Many people believe that general subjects are a waste of their time. You, however, thought differently, especially since one of the subjects you’re taking this semester is English Literature.
Coming from a STEM-oriented course, you may not seem like the type to enjoy literature. But the reality is that you love to learn about poets and writers—ones who seemed to craft worlds and dynamics that you could never translate into words. This misconception of those who enjoy science being unable to appreciate written bodies of art is one you face. But at least this course is a general subject, leaving you on equal footing with individuals from different courses.
You sit by the window as you wait for your professor to finish setting up his laptop. It’s syllabus week, so there wasn’t much to be worried about. Once he clears his throat, he shows the class a smile.
“Good morning, class. I’m Mr. Hwang Taejoon, and I am your professor for Introduction to English Literature.” He takes a moment to look down at his clipboard which you can only assume holds a list of his students’ names. “If this isn’t your class, you may take this opportunity to leave.” Some students get off their seats and make their way outside the classroom.
As soon as they left, your professor smiled before clapping his hands. “I’m excited to go through this semester with you. I know this is only an introductory course for you, so I will make sure to guide you all throughout. Now, will–”
The door of the classroom slams open. Your eyes snap to where the sound comes from, showing a boy whose black hair is all tousled up as he pants. He’s all dressed up in a varsity jacket over his hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You notice how his hand quickly reaches out to his head, fixing his hair.
The boy then immediately bows down to the class (mostly to your professor) as he says, “Sorry about being late!” Your eyes drift back to Mr. Hwang whose face now holds a frown in contrast to the smile he once showed to you. “I promise, I won’t be late for any other session!”
Mr. Hwang grumbles before he takes another look back down to his clipboard. “Go take a seat.”
The boy stands up straight before flashing your professor an apologetic smile. He quickly makes his way to find a seat. Despite the vacant seats that are located throughout the class, his eyes quickly skimmed through them. That is until his eyes land on you. You notice how his eyes flicker to the empty seat beside you. And the next thing you know, you find him situated to your right.
You try to keep your eyes on your laptop, looking at the text on the syllabus. You didn’t want to stare at him—the boy who took the vacant seat beside you out of all the ones situated around the classroom.
The noise he creates as he brings out his laptop is not loud enough to interrupt the discussion but can drown out your professor’s words. But as soon as he settles down, you notice that he sets his hand down on the space between the two laptops. You cannot help but let your eyes flicker to it, and you notice his wrist is littered with beaded bracelets.
“Now, I’ll be discussing the outputs you are expected to deliver within the semester.” Your eyes snap up to where your professor is, standing right behind the table as he looks through his laptop.
You were ready to focus for today’s session until you felt someone tap your shoulder. As you look to your side, you are met with a boy who shows you a smile—one that is enough to almost have you smiling back, just almost.
“Hi, can I ask if there was anything I missed?” It’s a simple question, but you find yourself unable to formulate an answer. His voice is enough to send you into a lullaby; he could have his own podcast and you’d listen only to hear him speak nonstop, whether it would be of logical discussions or nonsensical chatter.
Without any idea of how to voice your thoughts, you only shake your head. He nods and shoots you a wink before looking back to the professor.
You should’ve been thrown off by his sudden action. If anything, you have every right to roll your eyes at him. But you do nothing of the sort, only looking back at your professor who demands your attention while your mind remains preoccupied with the boy beside you.
This could be due to all the years focused on your studies. You could care less about all the people who tried to earn your affection, from your classmates in your majors to even those part of the same club as you. But the boy emits an aura that has you only thinking of him. How can you ace this class if you’re turning putty at the first meeting? You need to get a better grip on yourself.
“Now, I want you to answer these,” Mr. Hwang says as he flashes a question on the screen: What role does literature play in your life? “And talk about it with your seatmates. Now would be a good time to get to know your classmates with the upcoming paired assessment around the corner.”
As you read out the words on the screen, you are not given enough time to think as the boy beside you clears his throat. You look back at him, met with the same smile he flashed at you then. Does he do this with every person he first meets?
“I think I should introduce myself. I’m Eric Sohn, majoring in Hotel Culinary Arts,” he says with his hand out toward you. You take a glance at his hand before letting yourself hold it, shaking it firmly.
“I’m Y/N, majoring in Psychology.”
You notice the way his eyes widen as you mention your course. “Do you perhaps know someone named Kevin Moon?”
The mention of your friend’s name has you smiling. “Yeah, I do. We’ve worked together since we’re part of our home org. How do you know him?” Your hand drifts away from his, crossing your arms as you listen intently to what he has to say.
“Mutual friends,” he reveals as he lets one of his arms rest on the back of your chair. With one hand tucked under his chin, he rests his arm on the table. He takes a glance at the screen shown in the front to refresh his memory on the question. “Would you like to go first? Or do you want me to start?”
You nod your head, signaling for him to start. He takes a deep breath as he looks up to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. “Well, I’ve read a few books then and there, but I think it was only when I entered uni that I started really reading more books if that makes sense.”
As his eyes meet yours, you nod as a way to show you understand him. “Yeah, I hate to admit this at first meeting but I’m a very romantic person.” You cannot help but raise your eyebrows at his words, earning a chuckle from him.
“I swear, I am! That’s why I started reading because my sister got me hooked on some romance books, so I’d like to think that literature helps me imagine scenarios I would love to see play out.” You notice the way he starts to scratch the back of his neck. “It doesn’t have to be me as the protagonist, but I’d like it,” he shyly admits, making you smile unconsciously.
God, you were not the type to just smile at some random boy. So why did Eric seem to have this effect on you?
Your thoughts snap you back into reality; the smile is now replaced by your calm demeanor. “I guess I can start.” As you see him signal for you to continue, you bite the inside of your cheek as you let your eyes drift to the screen.
“Well, I’ve been reading my whole life, actually,” you look back at Eric who seems to show genuine interest in what you have to say. Oddly enough, you feel as if you can tell him more than just the typical story you tell people.
“I know people don’t expect me to be this type because I major in Psychology, and I have this tendency to read a lot of scientific journals and textbooks for my classes but that’s because I enjoy learning about the human condition.” You let your eyes drift off to nowhere as you reveal a part of you to a stranger. Maybe it’s because he’s a stranger that makes it easier for you to admit details you wouldn’t normally admit to someone whom you’ve met under a different circumstance.
“But I’ve always had an affinity for reading. Books can be a form of escapism through fictional stories, but they can also be a way to encapsulate memories of someone,” you continue with a small sigh. “I have been quite behind with my reading schedule though, so I’m hoping this class may propel me back to getting back to reading.”
He hums as he nods before saying, “No, I get it. I like that answer.” You look back at the boy who only smiles at you. “It’s nice to know that you still want to go back to reading despite how much your other classes demand it. I know many people who’ve lost that love and don’t see themselves going back to it, you know?” You nod at his words.
You were no stranger to the love-hate relationship when it comes to reading. If anything, that is how you’d describe your relationship when it comes to the hobby. But you were hoping that the upcoming years would treat you right and that your love for said hobby may not dissipate.
“Yeah, I would hate to lose that form of escapism from my studies.”
He nods with a small chuckle following. “I get it, I would hate to lose it, too.”
With no idea how to respond, you expect silence to follow. But Eric quickly fills it as he asks you a question. “Do you know anyone in this class?” As you shake your head, he lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, same.”
You cannot help but giggle. “I mean, if I knew someone, then I would be sitting with them,” you point out.
You want to ask him why he chose to take a seat beside you, but he beats you to it by asking you another question. “Do you have a class before this?”
“Uh, no,” you say as you quickly take a glance at your laptop, moving the windows away to show your schedule. Since the semester just started, you didn’t memorize your schedule. “It’s my first class of the day, but my next class is around 3.” You look back at the boy who cannot hide the way he reels at your schedule.
“You have such a long break. But me too,” he says as he pulls out his phone. As he shows you his schedule, you notice how big of a gap he has for today, where his next class is happening around 6 p.m. “But at least the other days are back-to-back. I just didn’t get lucky with my Mondays and Thursdays. I tried to change it but all the professors denied my request.”
You cannot help but sigh at the sight of his schedule as you remember yours. “Same. Well, I guess we’re stuck with our shitty schedules.”
Then, he asks, “Do you want to exchange schedules and numbers, perhaps?” Your eyebrows shoot up at his question. “I mean, I just don’t know anyone here, so I’d love to at least have a familiar face I can go to, especially for this class.”
You know you’re about to enter dangerous territories. With the numerous books you’ve read, you were sure this is what books typically started their stories with—a meeting between the two protagonists whose relationship will only have room to blossom.
And you should have kept him at arm's length. You didn’t want to risk getting friendly with someone like Eric because even at the first meeting, you couldn’t help but feel yourself drawn to him. But he’s nothing but kind and there should be no problem with allotting him space to take up in your life. All you need to do is stick to your plan—no idea of pursuing romance shall be entertained until you graduate. You can only hope that your interest in him is just a happy crush, one that will never flourish further.
So you find yourself nodding to his request to which he grins. But before he can say anything, the light comes through the window. He squints as it hits his face, raising his hand to shield his eyes.
“Here, you can put your number and social media then I’ll send you my schedule.” The boyish grin on his face alongside the sunlight that makes him glow is a sight the universe has gifted to you.
You’ve read all about protagonists being bewitched by the presence of another, but works of literature have not prepared you to experience the same. For once, you wish you could find the right words to describe the sight but all you can think of is what a pleasure it is to be seeing this at the start of your day—you can only hope that your happy crush remains that way.
CHAPTER TWO: LITTLE WOMEN
The later hours of the day dawned upon you. The fluorescent overhead lights are dim as only the lamps situated at every table shine bright; you enjoy them for they never make the library bleak. The wooden interior found in every corner of this library reminds you of your own back in your childhood home. But the main act of the show is the books; the wide selection they offer has you always here at every possible hour, whether it may be to study or to possibly read for leisure.
You usually find yourself alone on most occasions spent here. If you found yourself working on a group project, you would usually opt to have such meetings at the study hall situated a few buildings away. It made sense to have those in a place where you could freely talk versus a library where it would be limited to occasional chatter or whispers. Today, however, is an exception, for you now sit across from your partner for your first paired work for Mr. Hwang’s class.
“I don’t usually spend my time here, but it’s nice,” Eric voices out as he looks around, taking in the sight of his surroundings. There were barely any students in the library around these hours. Usually, it would be you and some familiar faces you recognized because of the numerous instances you stayed here.
You’re not sure why you didn’t push for the study hall, but Eric’s explanation for choosing this place made sense. If you were going to study literature, why not do it in a place that is filled to the brim with it? It’s convenient if you need to quickly pull out a book because you’re already there. But the reality is that you liked this space as your own—somewhat like a part of the university that you believe to reflect the intimate parts of you.
You hum while you look down at your iPad where your notes are all scribbled down. “I’m always here. I spend most of my time studying or reading here.” You look up to Eric whose gaze is trained on you. Oddly enough, it feels like his eyes sparkle despite how dim the environment may be.
With that, you break eye contact with him as you look over a few tables away where you notice students who you knew only by their faces. “Yeah, like I know some of the people there just because we always seem to stay in the library until the closing hours.”
He hums before asking, “Do you know their names?” You shake your head before looking back at him.
“I only know the names of the librarians and staff. I’ve never been bothered to know the names of the other students, but we still say hi whenever we pass by each other.”
He can only nod at your words. “Sorry about interrupting the discussion, we can go back to it.”
“It’s fine.” You cannot help but smile as you shake your head. “It was a break we needed to take.”
He shoots you that boyish grin—one you’ve grown fond of after seeing him every week for class—before he continues, “So, we were talking about the confession scene of Laurie.”
“Ah, that one,” you cut him off as you lean back in your chair.
He chuckles for a moment. “So, what are your thoughts on the scene?”
You let out a sigh before saying, “Well, I am 100% on Jo’s side. I mean, she has every right to decline a man’s confession, especially if she has all these aspirations she wants to achieve.” You bite on the inside of your cheek as you recall the passages in your head. “And the audacity for Laurie to be, I guess, “jealous” of Professor Bhaer is unreasonable. I mean, it’s clear she doesn’t have room for anything romantic in her life, and I think that should be respected.”
“But,” Eric quickly scrolls through his notes found on his laptop. “Don’t we learn later on that Jo ends up longing for love in the end? Doesn’t she end up wanting both—a chance to pursue her dreams while also longing to be in love?”
You cannot help but chuckle at his counterargument. “Yes, but I think that this book was written poorly. I mean, we learned in the earlier chapters that Jo did not want to marry, and didn’t we also learn that Alcott only wrote Jo and Bhaer marrying each other because her publishers forced her?”
Eric hums for a moment. “I mean, we do learn that. But I think another way to look at it is that Jo was not ready to let someone take up such an important space at that period of her life. And I think it’s perfectly fine for her to realize later on that what she thought then is not what she wants after all.” With pursed lips, he lets his gaze flicker away from the laptop and back to you. “I know we put relevance to the context of the author, but I think it’s fine to derive our own interpretations of the text despite what the author intended, you know? That’s at least what I learned in my Art Appreciation class.”
Your partner for this assignment brought up valid points. It’s not like he was telling you to agree entirely with his interpretation of the later sequence of Little Women. Instead, he was engaging in discourse with you, sharing what he thought of the scene to provide a different perspective.
“I just,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I just think Jo’s character was so revolutionary in the field of classics. I’ve read so much about women being viewed as individuals who are only meant to marry, but authors never put importance into their aspirations. I think that’s why I loved Jo’s character.” When you notice that Eric keeps his gaze on you without any sign that he’ll interrupt, you decide to continue. “She clearly had her priorities and wasn’t willing to let the idea of romance get in the way.”
Eric’s expression slowly starts to shift into confusion. Despite your words speaking on Jo’s character, it was starting to make sense to both of you that these sentiments came from a personal standpoint.
“Is this you speaking from experience?”
For a moment, you think of lying to the boy who sits across from you. You didn’t want to hear whatever comments he would make of your own choice to keep your love life as lackluster as possible. Yet, his eyes speak thousands of words—all revolving around curiosity. And you realize that maybe Eric won’t judge you. After all, when has he ever shown you that he would criticize you?
You sigh as you let your eyes look down at your notes. “I’m not looking for a relationship, or love, in general. I don’t think I have the time to even sustain one, and I care too much about my studies to even consider it.” You look back at Eric whose doe eyes still seem to shine.
He nods, letting silence take over. Your answer hangs in the air, almost as if you two needed it to marinate further. That is until Eric decides to break the silence.
“Do you ever get jealous of what you read?” You cannot help but tilt your head at his question. He shakes his head, trying to gather the right words to say. “I mean, you’ve read so many books, and I’m sure many of them have revolved around the theme of love and romance, especially the classics. Do you not want to experience that for yourself?”
Eric’s question seemed to be rooted in genuine curiosity. And you cannot help but ponder over his words.
It’s true that you would find yourself longing to experience the wonders of love that writers seem to talk about. It would be untrue if you said you didn’t give the idea a second thought—what would it be like to allow yourself to enjoy romance all while you study for your degree? But then you remember that there wasn’t anyone, really, to have you consider such. It was only an idea you would think about but never proceed with—there was no one to take up that space in your life to begin with.
So you sigh, shaking your head as you look back down at your notes, and say, “It’s not like anyone has given me a reason to reconsider.” You leave it at that, deciding not to indulge in the topic any further. And Eric only hums, looking back at his notes.
You take this opportunity to review your notes, recollecting every detail that is worth discussing with Eric for the upcoming presentation. Unbeknownst to you, however, your partner has his mind preoccupied with another matter—what can he do to become the reason you consider?
CHAPTER THREE: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE
The moon may be shining brightly tonight, but you’ll never know. All huddled up in the library, the lamp on your table shines over your laptop and sprawled-out notes. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in this library. All you know is that you still have papers to accomplish and exams to study for.
But at least you were going through this in the comfort of your favorite spot in the university for they seemed to keep the library open all day during midterm season. And at least you had someone there to keep you company during this mess.
“This paper is impossible,” Eric complains as he rubs his eyes from exhaustion. You’re sure it’s past midnight. “What did you write your paper on?”
You cannot help but yawn. “Uh, I wrote it on Still I Rise just because it answers the prompt pretty well.” With droopy eyes, you look at your friend who now leans his head on his arm that is propped up on the table.
“Man, that’s good.” You cannot help but chuckle at his reaction. “I’m hesitant about using a poem just because I’m scared I won’t be able to share my thoughts well. Like, I know I talked about how we interpret the text as something that matters, but sometimes I cannot make sense of what these poets are saying.” His tired expression shows how long he’s been pondering on what to write.
With the paper due a few days from now, you were sure Eric was pressured to think of anything to write about. So you decide to lean back in your chair, brainstorming for anything to help him. Yet, you only draw a blank, clearly exhausted from all the studying and writing you’ve been doing.
His cackle comes out of the blue. Your eyes snap to his face, seeing that his crinkled eyes are set on you. You don’t miss how the students around your area shush him. Eric is suddenly aware of how loud he is as he cannot help but sink into his chair out of embarrassment.
“Sorry, the expression you had on your face made me laugh,” he shyly admits.
You frown at him before saying, “Fine, you’re on your own now.” Your eyes dart back to your laptop.
“Okay, wait!” He quietly exclaims as he grabs onto your forearm. Your eyes drift to his hand that rests on your arm, slowly drifting away from exhaustion. Before you can comment, he retracts his hand. “I would love your help.”
As your eyes settle on him, you notice the pout that rests on his lips. His doe eyes still manage to sparkle in the dimly lit room. The sight warms your heart—you almost let your calm demeanor falter.
“I wish I could help but for once, I can’t think of anything.” As you say those words, the cold air hits your skin. You cross your arms as a shiver runs down your spine.
Somehow, Eric is quick to catch on to your behavior. You watch how he pulls off his hoodie, hair ruffled from the action. And before you know it, he hands it to you.
“Here,” he says as he drops it right beside your laptop, covering your notes. Although you shake your head, he can only roll his eyes. “You clearly need it more than I do.”
With no sign that he’ll back down, you cannot help but sigh. You grab onto the piece of clothing and slip it on you, getting a whiff of a fruity and spicy scent that clings onto it. With how big the hoodie is, it almost acts like a blanket. And when you look back at Eric, you notice the soft expression that takes over his face—a smile that is enough to warm your heart.
“I think you should take a nap.” His suggestion has you shaking your head. “You’re clearly tired.”
You roll your eyes before going back to your laptop. “I can’t or else I’ll be behind on my tasks.”
“Okay, but if you only take an hour to nap, I’m sure you’ll feel well-rested enough to work better.”
Your friend made a valid point. At the rate you were going, you were barely absorbing anything. But you didn’t want to slack off nor did you want to fall behind on your studies.
And as if he notices your worries, he says, “I’ll make sure to wake you up an hour from now.”
You cannot hold back the smile that appears on your face. Somehow, Eric knew all the right words to say in the short span of time he has gotten to know you. And before you know it, your arms settle on the table as you find your chin settling on them. Whether it would be from pure exhaustion or Eric’s persuasion, you found yourself settling in a position good enough to allow yourself to nap.
The victory smile that takes over Eric’s features is one you wish you could smack off his face for you know it’s because you ended up listening to him, but it’s also one you want to store in your memories. His grin is enough to have you smiling back, though you bury the bottom half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, getting another whiff of his perfume.
He then goes back to his laptop, scrolling away at what you can assume to be the instructions for the essay required by Mr. Hwang. As you watch him ponder, you cannot help but take in his features; from his strong jaw all the way to his eyes that manage to easily shift between a strong glare to a soft gaze. He is someone sculpted by the deities—you weren’t sure why the universe chose you to be graced by his presence.
In your time knowing him, you knew that he presented himself as a goofball to many. He became the life of the party, per se, for he managed to create a comfortable atmosphere for everyone.
And yet, you knew that it’s only a mask he chooses to wear for the sake of others. In these moments, you learn that he is more than just a childish guy. Past all the layers, he is profound—you first learned that when he shared his interpretation of Jo’s character. You hope that he can find more moments where he’ll expose that side to you.
You move your chin to rest on your arms. “Can I ask what’s your favorite book?” Your sudden question has his eyes snapping at you. “I just realized that we’ve known each other for half a semester because of an English Literature class, but I never bothered to ask about your favorite book.”
He cannot help but chuckle before saying, “It’s The Notebook.” His answer has your face contorting into disappointment. “Hey, what’s wrong with that?” The way he gets defensive has you erupting into a giggle.
“It’s just okay for me. I didn’t enjoy it that much when I read it.”
He furrows his eyebrows not due to disapproval but genuine curiosity. “Okay, so what’s your favorite book then?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” The answer leaves your mouth quickly, almost like it’s second nature to answer the question with that title.
He hums before admitting, “I’ve never read it.”
“Yeah, it shows.” The remark leaves your mouth without letting a second thought come. You notice the way Eric’s expression shifts into a scornful one, and you cannot help but giggle. “I just think that you might reconsider what your favorite book is after reading Pride and Prejudice, you know?” He only nods at your words.
You let out a sigh. “I actually want to reread that book after midterms are done.” Your blinks are slow, exhaustion taking over your body.
Eric is quick to notice how sleepy you’re getting. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up an hour from now.” All you do is hum before snuggling the lower half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes now closed.
A few minutes pass, and you hear a chair screech softly. You can only assume that Eric had to use the washroom. But when you heard the chair move once more only a few minutes later, you were sure that he only had to get something.
As you hear him clear his throat for a moment, you keep your eyes closed. You try your best to not show you’re awake. And once more minutes have passed, you decide that the coast is clear.
Once you open one eye, you notice that Eric is leaning back in his chair with a book in his hand. He reads it intently, unaware of your gaze on him. You let your gaze drift to the cover of the book, and it takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. In his hands is a copy of Pride and Prejudice, the same one you found yourself revisiting just to read your favorite passages.
As you let your eyes close, a smile shows on your lips. Thankfully, it is hidden by the sleeves your face is snuggled into. With the sight replaying in your head accompanied by his perfume, your heart warms at the thought of him. You can only hope that he’ll love that book as much as you do—you can only hope that this infatuation will pass.
CHAPTER FOUR: EMMA
The season of fall has come; the sky is a patchwork of hues of orange; the leaves have turned to shades of brown; the wind has gotten cooler. Long gone was the heat that summer brought—you were dying to experience the joys of autumn.
Thankfully, you finished your last class for the day. As students piled out of the classroom, you were taking your time tidying your things. For once, you didn’t have any tasks to accomplish within the day which meant tonight would be time for you to enjoy, all snuggled up in bed as you finally reread Pride and Prejudice.
You were satisfied with the grades you received from your midterm assessments. Somehow, your efforts spent studying reflected well in the feedback your professors provided. Now, you can reward yourself with reading your favorite book.
When you exit the classroom, you expect yourself to go straight back to your dorm. However, the sight of Eric Sohn standing outside with his back leaning on the wall is what disrupts your plans.
“Eric? How did you know I was here?” Your shocked expression has him chuckling.
“We exchanged schedules, remember?” He says as he stands up straight, walking closer to you. You two stood in the middle of the hallway with little to no students in sight. “I kind of got lost, if I’m going to be honest.”
As he admits that information, you cannot help but giggle. “I mean, this is where most of my major classes are. That’s why I’m surprised to see a Hotel Culinary Arts student like you here.” He shoots you that boyish grin which has you smiling back. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Do you perhaps need help with the upcoming assessment for Mr. Hwang’s class?” You attempt to joke as you remain unaware of the reason behind Eric’s visit.
But when he pulls out a book from behind his back, your smile shifts into a shocked expression. In his hands is a new copy of Pride and Prejudice, one different from the one that he was reading in the library that one night. As your eyes zero on the book he holds, you do not pay attention to whatever expression Eric may have.
“I finally got around to reading your favorite book, and I have to admit that you’re right. I think this might be my new favorite book,” he hands the book to you. Your hands trail over the cover, still shocked that he ended up finishing it. “And I wanted to finish it before you reread it.”
You were expecting him to only read a few chapters, but for him to find enough time to finish it before you could pick it up? You realized you were screwed.
Your hands find themselves flipping through the pages—and holy shit, there are notes and scribbles all over the pages. “I wanted to annotate it just so you can also read my reactions and interpretations as you reread it.” Your mouth parts open at his words, clearly in awe of the action.
The pages are littered with underlines and circles, highlighting passages and quotes that seem to resonate with Eric. On the margins, you notice notes that are simple one-liners and others that are long enough to fill up the pages’ spaces.
“I–I don’t,” you look up to the boy in front of you. With his smile still plastered on his face, you do everything in you to find the right words to say. Yet, it’s impossible—this is the first time someone has done this for you.
He chuckles at your lack of words and says, “I would love to stay and hear how much you enjoy this, but I unfortunately have a class to get to all the way in the Culinary Arts building.” He lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it as if it’s his way to snap you out of your trance.
But the thing is you are not in any way out of touch with reality. Not only did he give you an annotated copy of your favorite book but he waited until your last class in a building that is all the way on the opposite side of where he needs to be. And at this moment you knew you were doomed—that this budding infatuation is turning into something more.
“I’ll see you next week in class, okay?” He says with a smile. You can only nod, still unable to speak. “Or tomorrow, if you’d like.” And before you can question him, he quickly makes his way out of the building. You let your eyes watch his figure that continues to sprint away.
As soon as he’s gone, you look back down at the book in your hands. You flip through the pages as you still remain in shock at what he gifted you. That is until you notice a post-it note stuck on the last page. When you open it to the page, you expect it to be an index of what his annotations mean. Instead, it is a message directed towards you, and you cannot help but feel your heartstrings tug at his words.
would you be interested in going on a reading date with me?
❑ yes ❑ no </3
p.s. you can just text me your answer :) maybe we can plan something tomorrow (that is if you see it by the time i give this to you)
And you tell yourself that this is wrong—that you should not be considering his offer no matter how friendly it may be. But with how he’s been treating you, you almost hope that this isn’t just him being friendly. You want to be on the receiving end of his affection—of his love.
It seems stupid to go back on your word of refusing to entertain love. Your plans are focused on graduating summa cum laude without ever allocating space for someone to take up your time. But is it wrong that someone has you reconsidering what you originally thought? Is it a sin for you to want to experience the joys of love despite your past reluctance?
So for once, you fully understand Jo’s character—you want to achieve in your endeavors all while experiencing the joys of love. And there’s nothing wrong with having that mindset after all.
The season of autumn is your favorite; the sight of leaves falling is a sight you cannot help but enjoy watching. In the same way leaves fall from the tree to the ground, you have fallen for Eric Sohn.
CHAPTER FIVE: SONNET 18
“So, what’s your favorite scene from Pride and Prejudice?” You decide to ask Eric as you two pass through shelves filled to the brim with antique books.
He hums as he follows closely behind you. “I think it was the first time Lizzie and Mr. Darcy danced together.”
You glance at the boy behind you, humming along with his answer. “Yeah, I really like Austen’s use of the motif of dance.” You come to a halt as you stand in front of a shelf full of classics. “I mean, she uses dance to show attraction between Mr. Darcy and Lizzie without them even realizing it.” Once you turn your head to face Eric, you notice a smile on his lips.
“Yeah, they’re remarkable,” he mutters as his eyes remain on you.
Under his gaze, your knees start to get weak. You cannot help but gulp as you look back to the shelves with cheeks dusted red.
Today, you and Eric were in the middle of a date—not a reading one, but an actual date. At first, you were nervous about having lunch with him mainly because you weren’t sure what to talk about. But he found a way to lead the conversation, making sure to build an environment where you two could talk about anything and everything.
Eric decided to bring you to an antique bookstore near campus considering that you two share an affinity for reading—though you were more interested compared to him. The selection they have covers fictional classics all the way to nonfiction recipe books. It’s definitely smaller than what the library offers but bigger than another bookstore you tend to frequent.
As your eyes scan through the collection, your eyes catch onto a copy of Sense and Sensibility, another book by Jane Austen that you’ve been meaning to pick up. “Ah! I’ve been meaning to read this,” you exclaim as you pull it out. With your eyes still looking through the selection, you spot another book you’ve wanted to read for a while. “Oh, they also have Wuthering Heights!” As you grab onto the other book, you look down to admire the covers.
While you’re entranced by all the antique books standing in front of you, Eric cannot help but chuckle at your reaction. You whip your head only to see that god-forbidden boyish grin on his face—the same one that got you hooked onto him at the first meeting. He leans his side on the bookshelf all while he stares at you.
With that, you frown as you tilt your head. “Why are you laughing?” The question that leaves your mouth is out of genuine curiosity.
“No reason,” he starts off. “You’re pretty, especially when you talk about books.”
Your eyebrows raise in shock, thrown off by the sudden compliment. Eric has never been the type to tell you such during your time knowing him but hearing him say it now has your knees weak. Suddenly, all resolve was gone and you had no idea how to respond.
And before you know it, you say, “You’re pretty, too.”
The words come out quickly without a second thought, and only when they leave your mouth do you realize how weird you are for saying such. But you notice the way his smile gets bigger, and you cannot help but feel your cheeks warm up once more out of flusters and embarrassment.
“Are you done picking out the books you want?”
“Uh, yeah,” you start off as you glance at your books. “What are you going to get?”
He hums as he stands up straight, looking at the shelf in front of you two. “Do you have another book recommendation for me?” He looks back at you.
You bite the inside of your cheek as you hum, thinking of a book. “Maybe Jane Eyre? By Charlotte Brontë?” You’re ready to tell him the synopsis of the book, but he doesn’t spare you another second for he grabs the book.
“Okay,” he smiles as he raises the book up. “I’ll pay for your books while I’m at it.”
You immediately shake your head at his words. “Huh? No, you don’t need to.” You hold the books close to your chest. “You paid for lunch already.”
He rolls his eyes before extending his free hand out to you. “It’s fine. I want to buy these books for you.” Your eyes are wide as you slowly feel yourself moving the stack of books away from your chest. “So long as we get to have that reading date, I’m happy to buy them for you.”
You would deny his offer, but you hate to admit that the idea of having someone you like buy the books you’ve been wanting to read has your heart warming. Buying you books, reading your recommendations, and annotating a book just for you—they’re the easiest ways to your heart, and he figured them out.
With that, you find yourself handing the two books to him. He smiles as he glances at the three books in his hands. And before you know it, he quickly links his arm with you as he drags you to the cashier. You don’t know how you got lucky to know a guy like him.
CHAPTER SIX: SO TIRED BLUES
Usually, the hours of the night are the ones you find most comfort in. It’s the illusion of being away from the hours that demanded you to interact with others. You love spending your time alone doing whatever, whether it may be your own hobbies or the coursework you need to accomplish. This time of day had you in a state of tranquility, at most, for you were comforted with the idea that nothing can disturb you.
But for once, you weren’t calm during these hours. As you stare at your shared document that barely had any input from your groupmates, you feel your sanity slipping away. This assessment is due two days from now—what can your groupmates offer during this time crunch?
You lean your head in your hands as your eyes rest on your keyboard. As you let out a groan, you cannot help but grip your hair out of frustration.
“What’s wrong?”
As you look at your friend who sits beside you, you cannot help but pout. “Eric, I can’t do this.”
Despite these hours being reserved for your alone time, you chose to spend these with him. The date was a success—you two were practically inseparable at this point. But you two were still going on dates without any expectation, still exploring whatever you two truly felt towards each other.
To be fair, you were still hesitant about jumping into a relationship with him. You still weren’t sure how possible it was for you to handle your studies along with being in a relationship. And you hate to admit it but you’re terrified—what if the love you read about is nothing like what you’ll experience with Eric?
So for now, you’ll only allow yourself to enjoy what you have now. It is only when the universe forces you to confront these sentiments that you’ll figure out the answer.
He crosses his arm as he leans back in the booth you two sat on. “You want to tell me about it?” And for a moment, you consider not doing such. You didn’t want to waste both yours and Eric’s time complaining about shitty and unresponsive groupmates.
But he doesn’t give you a moment to indulge any further in those worries, for he says, “We have enough time for you to talk about it.” He shows you a smile, one that is enough to bring you comfort. “Let me become someone you can lean on.”
And with that, you find yourself spilling out your frustrations. “I’ve just been so stressed, you know? My group mates are so shit, I’m not sure how good of an output we’ll be able to submit on time,” you start off. “I’ve been reminding them nonstop to do their work, and they just keep ignoring me. And it doesn’t help that my professor doesn’t give a fuck.”
Eric cannot help but let out a hiss of annoyance at your situation. “That’s terrible.”
“I know, right? And this assessment is at least 30% of my grade. How am I going to get an A in this class if my groupmates refuse to help?” You cannot help but groan as you lean back.
As you stare up at the ceiling, you tongue the inside of your cheek as you ponder over the situation you’re in. And you’re not sure what takes over you when you share your next set of thoughts. “I just–I want to achieve so many things, but it’s so hard when you’re not supported.”
Despite your eyes staring up at the ceiling, you can feel Eric’s gaze on you as you reveal a part you’ve never shared with him. So you let out a sigh before saying, “I know I talk so much about wanting to ace all my subjects and graduate with flying colors, but some days it’s hard to keep up with that type of mentality.” You let your eyes close for a moment. “It’s hard to aspire for so many things when you don’t have someone to fall back on.”
Although you have the passion to achieve the different goals you set for yourself, it becomes impossible to keep that fire going on most days. Sure, you had friends from your course and extracurriculars, but they were never ones you could find yourself going to easily. In most instances, you would be by yourself as you were scared to insert yourself into people’s circles.
With that lack of a support system, it became difficult to attain your goal. Although you try your hardest to keep your mind set on the prize, you cannot deny that you find yourself slipping into burnout in most instances.
“I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of burnout, you know? And I know most people would say to take a break or to indulge in a hobby, but,” you look at the boy beside you whose face is full of concern. “I’m exhausted from reading.”
It’s something you didn’t like to admit out loud. Eric knew you as the person who would read at any hour if they could—the one who wishes they could consume books even while asleep. So it hurts to say that you were growing tired of the hobby—the one thing that provided you escapism.
You let out a bitter chuckle as your tired eyes drifted away from him, staring off into the distance. “It gets hard to read when all you do in a course is read. It requires so much energy, and most days I just don’t have that.” As you say those words, you let out a sigh. “And even when I forced myself to read, whether it would be for my own pleasure or a requirement for school, I could never digest the passages.”
Eric hums at your reveal. And when he reaches out for your hand, it feels as if all your worries are lifted off your shoulders. “Is there any way that I can help?”
You cannot help but chuckle as your eyes rest back on him. With his worried expression, you only show him a small smile. “No,” you shake your head. “But it’s fine. I’m glad that someone listened to me.”
It’s not like you were aiming to have your problems solved by him. If anything, you realize how much weight was lifted off of you after admitting these to a friend.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I can’t do much to help you, especially with your group work.”
You can only hum as you take a deep breath. “Yeah. I just need to take over their parts and remove their names, I guess.” As you say that, Eric cannot help but nod along with a chuckle leaving his mouth.
You’re about to get back to the work you were dreading until he asks you something. “Hey, I don’t know how much this would help, but maybe I can read you some passages of where I am in The Awakening if you’d like.” Your eyes widen at his suggestion. “I’m sure you’re way ahead of me but this could be a refresher, you know? While you take a break, I can be your audiobook.”
And you cannot hold back the smile that shows on your lips. Somehow, Eric is always looking out for you, whether it be through keeping your love for literature going or making sure you are well-rested on most occasions.
With that, you find yourself leaning your head on his shoulder. As you let your eyes close, you mutter, “Yes, please.”
He chuckles at the way you seem to melt on his shoulder. And just like that, he starts to recite the words of Chopin.
As his voice fills your ears, you’re reminded of the first time you first met Eric. Something about his voice is enough to ease your worries—to bring you into a state of tranquility. And somehow, he became the late hours of the day for you—you’ve managed to find peace through his presence for all he did is support you.
CHAPTER SEVEN: HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS
It seems like the season of fall is about to end. It’s getting colder than usual and you cannot help but wear more layers than you typically would during autumn. Although winter is about to come, however, you were seated on a picnic blanket with your back leaning against a tree trunk. And on your lap is where Eric’s head lays as he continues to read Jane Eyre.
While you were trying to read your copy of Wuthering Heights, you couldn’t help but glance at Eric every once in a while. After going on multiple dates with him throughout the semester, you weren’t sure exactly where you two were in your relationship. And you know you should take the initiative to ask, but you didn’t want to say the wrong words.
“Eric,” you call out his name as your voice quivers. He looks away from his book to stare right back at you. As he hums in curiosity, you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you sit beside me?” You notice his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “During the first meeting, I mean. Why did you choose to sit beside me when there were other vacant spots?” As you say those words, you spot how his mouth parts open in realization. However, it shifts into a smug grin.
“Cause I thought you were cute.” His reply has your eyes widening in shock. You knew Eric tends to be straightforward, but you weren’t expecting that to be his answer. You were sure that your cheeks were warm at his reasoning.
He then sits up, now face-to-face with you. “Well, that’s what I thought at first. But I got to know you more through the times we studied together, you know?” With his eyes staring intently back at yours, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.
“I mean, the first time I got to know you, you were talking about how you wouldn’t entertain the idea of romance, so I couldn’t help but become interested in you.” His hand reaches out for yours that rests on your lap. “And throughout our time together, I learned about all your hopes and dreams and your love for literature.”
You notice the way he takes a deep breath in as his eyes close momentarily. “I couldn’t help but like you,” he admits. As soon as he opens his eyes, he is met by yours that are wide as they stare back at him.
“I’m sure it wasn’t a secret with how we were going on dates, but I thought I should vocalize it now,” he starts off as he looks down at your interlocked hands. “I was starting to wish that these dates would give you enough of a reason to reconsider what you first thought—that maybe I could become a reason for you to reconsider after all.”
But as soon as he looks back at you, you feel your heartstrings tug as he draws circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. And the next thing he says is enough to warm your heart. “But I would never push you into a relationship with me. I know you care about your studies, and you worry too much about your grades. Sometimes, I wish I could tell you to take it easy.” He cannot help but giggle as he says those words, causing you to laugh along with him.
“But I hope you know that I’ll be here to support you, whether as a friend or as your boyfriend if you’ll have me.”
And you realize that you’ve been wrong all this time. You’ve fallen under this idea that the road to success means to get rid of all distractions—that love is nothing but a hindrance to the path you want to take. But it’s not that you can only have one or the other—you could choose to have both if you made the effort to do so.
In your time knowing Eric Sohn, you learned the joys of love even if you weren’t signing up for such joys came in the form of him. To you, he is what the poets describe as love embodied. From the first time you two worked together all the way to midterm season until your breakdown, you realize that he is the support you were seeking out all this time. And so you wonder to yourself how lucky you can be to receive something you weren’t seeking but still desperately craved.
So you let yourself lean forward, your face inching closer to his. His breath hitches at your action. As your eyes flicker down to his lips for a second, you cannot help but hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your eyes meet his, and you notice the way he holds his breath. So you cannot help but let yourself smile for a moment.
And before he knows it, your lips crash into his. Your hand reaches out to the side of his face while your arm wraps around the back of his neck, holding him close. His hand holds onto your waist, drawing shapes on it with his thumb.
As your noses bump against each other, Eric cannot help but giggle in the middle of the kiss. You two part away as you continue to look at each other. “So, will you let me be yours?” And his question is enough to pull on your heartstrings.
It’s the phrasing that gets to you—his choice of words to let him be yours versus you being his is what has you realizing just how much he likes you. It’s this whole idea that you didn’t have to surrender anything to him for he is willing to build around you.
But the reality is you would do the same for him—you’re willing to make space for him to take up in your life the same way he already has done for you.
And so you say, “You can be mine if you let me be yours.”
The boyish grin you first found yourself falling in love with appears on his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You wish you could tell your past self that nothing goes according to plan. What you may have first thought is not what may push through in the end. While you were never signing up to find love in your years in university, the universe decided to give you a reason to reconsider. And now you know that you can have both—that you can achieve your aspirations while still being in love. All it took was time, effort, support, and a boy named Eric Sohn to have you believe that.
if you enjoyed reading this, consider reblogging and leaving some feedback!
#reviewed and approved#zanna THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT 😭#it truly means alot that you have all these thoughts!!!#i need to go back to writing fluff omfg its been so long im ngl#but im so happy u got arnd to reading this !!#its def not my best work imo but im happy to hear abt all the love it still receives!
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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon
lee juyeon x reader
all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon
genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been
word count ➵ 730 words
inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”
a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.
yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.
“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.
“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”
a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”
“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”
“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”
for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.
“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”
“like it like what?”
“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”
heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.
“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”
a beat passes.
“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.
there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.
but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.
would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?
but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)
there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.
did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?
“hey, i have to go,” you say.
“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”
for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.
“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.
you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.
“bye, juyeon.”
that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”
the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.
it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.
but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.
perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs
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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲, | do not edit
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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon
lee juyeon x reader
all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon
genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been
word count ➵ 730 words
inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”
a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.
yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.
“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.
“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”
a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”
“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”
“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”
for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.
“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”
“like it like what?”
“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”
heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.
“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”
a beat passes.
“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.
there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.
but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.
would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?
but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)
there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.
did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?
“hey, i have to go,” you say.
“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”
for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.
“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.
you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.
“bye, juyeon.”
that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”
the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.
it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.
but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.
perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs
#reviewed and approved#dora 🥀#ily sm thank u for reading and rbing!!!#if you love that trope#u'll definitely love the upcoming jichang fic!!#ILY!!!! THANK U!!
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this is the first song i ever wrote. i started writing songs after high school which is late compared to my band friends, i was living in Turkey it was morning and i was still fucking drunk, idk why but i sat at the keyboard and started writing this, and by the time it was done my heart was pounding like i just saw the rest of my life. i was fucking doomed. anyway, happy monday, fam. kill this week.
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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon
lee juyeon x reader
all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon
genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been
word count ➵ 730 words
inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”
a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.
yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.
“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.
“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”
a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”
“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”
“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”
for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.
“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”
“like it like what?”
“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”
heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.
“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”
a beat passes.
“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.
there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.
but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.
would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?
but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)
there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.
did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?
“hey, i have to go,” you say.
“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”
for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.
“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.
you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.
“bye, juyeon.”
that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”
the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.
it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.
but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.
perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs
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on the drive home ➵ ji changmin
the three times changmin thought you two would be okay, and the one drive home that made him realize he was wrong.
requested by @vernyangel for the song "on the drive home" by niki
genre/warnings ➵ angst no happy ending, established relationship, afab reader (no-gendered terms), lowercase intended, reader is shitty but changmin still excuses their actions, jiwoo is chuu btw, chanhee is the best friend who knocks sense into changmin, sadly no proper conversation about the problem happens
word count ➵ 2.6k words
taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu
a/n ➵ took me a bit to really pump this out :') spent so long just looping this song to really get my thoughts out. i hope you enjoy this @vernyangel! thank you for always supporting me bff </3 i hope this does justice to your request, and i hope i can do well in your other one as well. please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr!)
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
want to request? check out my guidelines!
masterlist
it’s a slurry of orange and red hues that cascade all over town. the buildings are only but a blur of figures that fill the windshield, and the pavements do not hold a living soul. with the windows rolled down, warm tones fill the car, the faux leather seems to glow, and the hands on the steering wheel reflect the shades of the city.
anything but silence fills the car; the melodies from the radio are low, and the whispers of the wind hit against eardrums. but these sounds are not enough to break the tension between changmin and you.
he doesn’t bother to talk like all the other drives back home. for once, it’s quiet on his end. he does not bother to admire the hues of the sky, and he decides against commenting on the songs from your playlist. instead, he looks at you all while your eyes are trained on the road.
he leans back in his chair, head pointed to you, and takes in the sight. the hazy buildings along with the sun setting are only a background made for you, and shades of orange make your skin glow. to him, you still look like the same person he first knew—the one who transformed the meaning of home—but now, you are nothing like the one he fell in love with.
a disheveled maze, constellated and intertwined, but somehow, my favorite kind
the sounds emitting from your speaker bounce on the four walls, filling your room with the sweet harmonies of niki accompanied by plucked guitar strings. the lamp shines over sprawled notes written in handwriting only you can decipher. all while you work, changmin is lying down on your bed. his hums come and go, his attention being divided to whatever he comes up on his phone.
the familiar strumming of a guitar plays out; it’s one you and changmin know by heart. he’s ready to sing along to snow patrol, murmuring during parts he didn’t know the lyrics to. then the song is cut short; an unfamiliar tune plays out. his eyes snap away from his phone to stare at your slouched figure by the table.
“awe, why’d you change it?” he whines. not a single response comes from you. he frowns at your back but decides to not ask again. maybe his voice was too soft for you to even hear him, or you were too caught up in your work to pay attention to his thoughts. either way, he wanted to respect your study time so long as you took enough time to rest.
a bell rings out. changmin looks back to his phone to see a text message from chanhee—are we still meeting for dinner?
“hey, are you still up to have dinner with chanhee?” changmin asks as he sits up, hair ruffled into a mess, and still…
this isn’t the first time you’ve done this. you were the type to not answer if you were caught up with something. but changmin is used to it, understanding that you needed the space to focus which resulted in tuning everything out.
he stands up and walks towards you, his hands landing on your shoulders. still, no reaction. he starts to frown at your behavior. usually, you would at least acknowledge him at this point. “earth to y/n?”
a disgruntled sound leaves you as your eyes remain on your notes. you still continue to rewrite them all while changmin stands behind you. “do you want to have dinner with chanhee?” he asks once more only to be met with you shaking your head. he hums for a moment before suggesting, “do you want me to order some food instead?”
“no.” it’s the first time he’s heard you speak since he arrived.
a pout appears on his lips. “but… you haven’t eaten.”
“pointing out the obvious, mister.” the tone is harsh, enough to have him flinch. the grip on your shoulders loosened. in front of him was a version of you he wasn’t used to. it almost seemed like you were mad at him but he didn’t know why.
you let out a sigh. “sorry, i’m just not in the mood today.” the apology that leaves your lips almost sounds genuine. “i just have a lot of things to work on, and i need to do it now or i’ll be behind.”
changmin nods before letting go of you. “is there anything i can do?” you go back to saying nothing, only shaking your head once more, and he takes it as a sign to not bother you further.
“okay,” he whispers, taking a few steps away from you. “i’ll go have dinner then with chanhee, okay?” once again, you don’t respond; you don’t even bother to shake your head this time.
he quickly types a reply to his best friend—yeah, it’ll just be us. y/n’s got some work to catch up on. he grabs his bag that rests against your bed frame and looks back to you whose back still faces him. he walks to you and faces your cheek. a frown rests on your face, clearly concentrated on the work you’re doing.
“i’ll go, okay? just let me know once you’ve eaten.” the question is soft, but your hardened expression doesn’t falter. so he kisses your cheek, lips lingering a few seconds more than usual, before saying, “love you, take care.”
“stay safe.” your response is almost soundless, but changmin catches it. he grins at your words—it’s enough to patch up the wound you inflicted moments ago. so he exits your room, leaving you the space you seem to need.
floating in a sea of missed calls and excuses
it’s cold tonight; the wind comes in waves, hitting changmin’s cheeks in full force, and the leaves rustle along. he loves it when the weather is like this; it’s an excuse to wear hoodies without having his fingers fall off. but most of all, it’s an opportunity for him to snuggle up in bed with you. he would rest his nose against your cheek and leave trails of kisses all over your collar area, only until you’d tell him to stop from how ticklish it feels.
but tonight, he stands in the dark right outside of your favorite restaurant. the luminescence pours out, the chatter from customers and staff seeps through the cracks of the windows, and the smell of dishes lingers in the air. everyone seems like they’re having the time of their lives—can changmin say the same for himself?
his eyes stare at his shared messages with you—still no response from you. a sigh leaves him.
you were not the type to ditch plans. if something came up, you would message him as soon as you found out. but now, it’s 30 minutes past the time you were supposed to meet him, and there was no message regarding your absence. so he calls you, places his phone against his ear, and waits for your answer.
it rings for a while. changmin is almost scared you won’t pick up—what if you lost your phone? what if you were kidnapped? or what if you got into an accident?
“changmin-ah!”
changmin lets out a sigh of relief as he hears your voice. “where are you?” he can hear the faint sounds of music playing from your end, but he doesn't hear a word from you. “y/n?”
“huh? oh, sorry. what were you saying?”
his eyes flicker to the restaurant sign. “where are you? i’m already here.”
“already whe—oh, there!” you cough. “i can’t make it.”
changmin frowns before asking, “what’s wrong? are you okay?”
“yeah, i just can’t make it.” he bites the inside of his cheek as he listens intently to your words.
“but we planned this for a while now.” he looks down to the ground as he paces around, kicking a stone off the sidewalk. “we haven’t gone on a date in months,” he whispers.
“i’m with jiwoo right now.”
his eyebrows shoot up before he asks, “is she okay?” he doesn’t want to make you feel guilty if your best friend needs you. you only hum back in response. “okay, do you want me to pass by?” not a single response comes from you. all he can hear is the muffled sounds of chattering and the faint notes of whatever song is playing in the background.
“hello?” he calls out once more.
“oh, sorry! i was talking to jiwoo. anyways, i really have to go!”
“oh, okay. love—” the call drops. “—you…” the last word trails into a whisper. you don’t even bother to say your usual farewell.
he bites the inside of his cheek as he looks down at his phone, looking back at his chat with you. as he replays the conversation, a prickly feeling consumes his heart—enough to form cuts on the organ but not enough to stab it all the way through.
the next thing he knows, he’s calling his best friend. two rings later, he picks up, even faster than you did. “changmin-ah?”
“hey, chanhee. have you had dinner?” changmin asks as he walks into the restaurant. he quickly tells one of the staff his name for his reservation.
“oh! i was about to.”
the waitress signals that they have his table, and so he follows her to where he’ll be seated. “okay. do you wanna have dinner with me?” he asks.
as they arrive at the table, he notices the setup is nicer than usual. a candle sits in the middle of a pile of fake rose petals, and a bottle of your favorite wine in an ice bucket standing beside it—they’re all special requests made by him just for you. so he signals to the waitress to clean up the roses and remove the candle. the wine that was meant to be shared with you will now be shared with his best friend instead.
“huh? i thought you were going on a date with y/n.”
changmin sighs before taking a seat saying, “something came up. they’re with jiwoo right now.” he watched her clean up the table, leaving the two sets of tableware untouched.
a beat passes.
“okay,” chanhee whispers back. “i’ll see you at that restaurant, right?” and changmin only hums before hanging up on him.
when his best friend arrived, changmin smiled at him. thankfully, tonight’s reservations would not be wasted. but for the rest of the dinner, changmin avoided talking about you.
i sit here with glistening eyes as the stripes on my back chip and dry
changmin stands outside of the door, a plastic bag full of your favorite takeout food in his hand. tonight was supposed to turn out right; come home with boxes of chinese food and spend the rest of the time talking about nothing or everything—whichever you wanted—but he doesn’t know where he went wrong.
the door swings open and it reveals his best friend. confusion paints chanhee’s face, but changmin grins as he raises the bag up. “i brought some food if you haven’t eaten.” the smile on his face is bittersweet. no matter how many times he may try to play this whole thing off, chanhee knows his best friend.
so chanhee only nods and steps to the side, letting him into his apartment. it’s instinctive for him—go to the kitchen, remove the food, and microwave it. so chanhee goes to the fridge, pulls out two cans of beer, and sets them on the table. as soon as dinner is ready, the two sit across from each other before digging into the meal.
from how changmin looks, it seems like he isn’t up to talking. all he wants to do is eat in silence, but chanhee knows it would be wrong to leave this situation hanging in the air.
“so, what’s up with you two?” changmin looks up to see his best friend whose eyes are on him as he slurps up some noodles.
“what do you mean? everything is fine,” he shoots him a smile before grabbing some beef and broccoli. as he chews away, chanhee sighs as he shakes his head.
“you know that’s a lie.” his best friend is always the type to be straightforward. if changmin was wearing an atrocious outfit, chanhee would let him know. if he was overreacting, his best friend would knock some sense into him. but most of all, if chanhee smelled bullshit on changmin’s end, he would call it. chanhee believes that his best friend’s situation is no different.
so chanhee asks, “what happened tonight?” but changmin refuses to answer, letting the silence take over—it’s enough to speak for him. he bites the inside of his cheek, drops the fork on his plate, and rests his arms on the table. as he looks intently at changmin, he says, “i think you need to talk to them.”
changmin rips his gaze away from chanhee, looking down at the food that he moves around on his plate. usually, he would listen to what his best friend would have to say, but now, he wished he could block him out.
“i wouldn’t talk about it if you didn’t want to,” chanhee starts off. “but i can’t stand watching this unfold any further. i don’t want you to keep getting hurt.”
changmin only sighs as he continues to play with his food until he feels his best friend grab hold of his hand. he looks up to see chanhee whose face is painted with concern. “i’m serious.” it’s a testament to the gravity of the elephant in the room you and he share. “this isn’t healthy, and you know that.”
changmin wishes he could retort back—you two were only going through a rough patch because of different schedules and priorities. if chanhee dissed his outfit, he would defend his fashion choices. if his best friend thought he was overreacting, he would justify his behavior by pointing out the circumstances that brought this reaction.
but the only time changmin could never defend himself is when chanhee calls bullshit on him, so he chooses to stay silent. he doesn’t try to argue with his best friend. instead, he only eats his food and hopes that this will pass—you two will be okay.
but for now, the night is young, and you are here, and snow patrol just came on the radio
changmin breathes in the sight of you, almost like it’ll be the last time he’ll ever see it, and bites on his tongue. the words shall remain unspoken. but a familiar song starts to play out, a shared favorite between you two, and he cannot help but feel his sentiments start to spill out.
“it this the end?” the question is almost soundless but he knows you hear it over the vocals of snow patrol. your hands grip on the steering wheel, and you swallow down nothing. still, your eyes remain on the road.
changmin hopes you shake your head, telling him that everything is fine, or maybe even ask what he’s pertaining to. he wouldn’t have it in him to let go of what you two formed together—a home in each other in a town that never did justice to the term. he’s only learned what it means to have one through you because you built it with him. any other response would be fine so long as it wasn’t an affirmation of his fears.
but the worst came like the breeze that hit changmin’s cheeks—you nod without sparing a glance. with a simple nod, everything he knew disintegrated.
you held the sledgehammer and swung it against his heart made of glass, and the shattered pieces fling against the wall. that action alone should be enough for him to feel anger, despair, sorrow. but he’s okay with picking up the glass shards, left to clean the mess you left because you’re still home to him even if he may not be yours.
without uttering another word, he lets his eyes drift to the road—this will be the last time you two go on the same path. but for now, he’ll remain content with his last moments with you.
if you enjoyed reading this, please reblog!
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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon
lee juyeon x reader
all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon
genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been
word count ➵ 730 words
inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”
a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.
yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.
“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.
“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”
a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”
“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”
“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”
for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.
“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”
“like it like what?”
“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”
heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.
“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”
a beat passes.
“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.
there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.
but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.
would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?
but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)
there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.
did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?
“hey, i have to go,” you say.
“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”
for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.
“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.
you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.
“bye, juyeon.”
that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”
the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.
it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.
but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.
perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs
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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon
lee juyeon x reader
all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon
genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been
word count ➵ 730 words
inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”
a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.
yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.
“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.
“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”
a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”
“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”
“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”
for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.
“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”
“like it like what?”
“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”
heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.
“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”
a beat passes.
“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.
there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.
but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.
would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?
but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)
there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.
did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?
“hey, i have to go,” you say.
“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”
for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.
“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.
you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.
“bye, juyeon.”
that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”
the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.
it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.
but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.
perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs
#reviewed and approved#claire 🌸#THIS IS SO SWEET THANK U!!!!#IM SO HAPPY!!!#it means the world to me :333
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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon
lee juyeon x reader
all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon
genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been
word count ➵ 730 words
inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”
a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.
yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.
“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.
“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”
a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”
“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”
“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”
for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.
“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”
“like it like what?”
“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”
heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.
“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”
a beat passes.
“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.
there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.
but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.
would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?
but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)
there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.
did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?
“hey, i have to go,” you say.
“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”
for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.
“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.
you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.
“bye, juyeon.”
that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”
the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.
it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.
but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.
perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs
#reviewed and approved#em 🪴#THANK U WTF???#THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY???#i feel so honored u have no clue#esp becoz ive been in the worst writing slump of my life 😭#thank u thank u thank u!!!
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persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon
lee juyeon x reader
all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon
genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been
word count ➵ 730 words
inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”
a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.
yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.
“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.
“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”
a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”
“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”
“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”
for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.
“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”
“like it like what?”
“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”
heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.
“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”
a beat passes.
“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.
there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.
but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.
would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?
but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)
there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.
did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?
“hey, i have to go,” you say.
“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”
for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.
“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.
you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.
“bye, juyeon.”
that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”
the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.
it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.
but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.
perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs
#works of moni#deoboyznet#kflixnet#bjnet#k-labels#the boyz#the boyz x reader#lee juyeon x reader#lee juyeon imagines#lee juyeon angst#the boyz angst#the boyz imagines
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the perfect pair ➵ masterlist
esports player!kim sunwoo x esports player!reader
being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?
general genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, afab reader (they/them pronouns), slow burn, slight angst, crack, fake relationships (you two pretend to be friends) sexual tension, smut aka porn with plot (just know sunwoo whines), esports team au specifically during valorant champions tour, misogynistic & sexist remarks and behaviors, drinking, pet names, bets are made, a lot of gamer lingo, one bed trope™, also probably wrong format and flow of vct but who gaf!
word count ➵ currently 10.5k words, expected to be 20-40k (sorry i cant help it + vct is pretty long)
playlist ➵ yuck by charli xcx // stop talking by day6 // constant repeat by charli xcx // happier than ever by billie eilish // take a hint by victoria justice & elizabeth gillies // jealous by nick jonas // useless by omar apollo // somebody else by the 1975 // and july by dean fy. heize // talk by beabadoobee // teeth by 5sos // motive by ariana grande ft. doja cat // i wanna be your slave by måneskin // cologne by beabadoobee // a little death by the neighbourhood // the perfect pair by beabadoobee // babydoll by dominic fike // bet u wanna by sabrina carpenter// not in the same way by 5sos // just friends by keshi // sugar by men i trust // disaster by conan grey // shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t by niki // it’s you by zayn // die for you by the weeknd ft. ariana grande // flash forward by le sserafim // plot twist by niki
taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub @stealanity @wooluv09 @deobi0412 @untilsunset @hiefisch @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @wonuroyal @sunkitti
a/n ➵ i made this masterlist post because i dont think tumblr will be able to handle all the parts i need to pump out :’) my headcanon of sunwoo being a shit gamer will forever live, but i’ll make an exception for this story <3 major shoutout to @shegotthewoobies for guiding me throughout the process <3 lots of love always to my val duo for life! do reblog and leave feedback!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlist
guides
➵ the guide: “welcome to valorant.”
your official guide to “the perfect pair” universe, from gaming lingo all the way to vct timeline
➵ the players: “wáchale güey, my crew is coming through.”
your official guide to the main characters of “the perfect pair” universe
official parts
➵ one: “ew, is that sunwoo over there? 저리 꺼져.”
being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?
➵ two: “okay kids, we’ve got company. pretend you all get along.”
➵ three: “sunwoo, we are the perfect pair.”
extras/drabbles
number and names of chapters are subject to change!
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