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spade speaks
been a while since i did one of this but you guys deserve an explanation.
i've discontinued all of my works involving new jeans, which is only three honestly. drag me down, love me twice, and leading lady. in all honesty, they're probably my favorite plots and i could see how my progress as a writer came to be but... slowly i felt obligated to write about those stories rather than enjoy it. still a fan, trust me just lost the spark when it comes to writing about those stories.
i'd still write about them in like a single fic, no longer a chaptered one. on top of that, i am choosing to revamp leading lady; but no longer a smau. also i am preparing for some stuff, so expect angst galore at a much slower pace.
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someone sent me a clip of jenna ortega saying “spade” and feeding my delusions.
she meant me, you guys

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haikyu, kpop fan, perchance maybe a superhero nerd as well 🤔
you can’t just say “perchance” (iykyk)
erm… actually! i am
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I’m seeing Tsukishima, and a wedding ring..?
is the wedding ring for tsukishima or you just have it?
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i believe so 👀
Stuck In Between
pairing - hwang yeji x fem!reader x yu jimin
- in which, (G)I-DLE’s maknae, Park Y/n, finds herself stuck in a love triangle with two of Korea’s beloved leaders, ITZY’s Hwang Yeji, and aespa’s, Yu Jimin.
genre - gxg, idol x idol, fluff, love triangle, angst, smau
featuring - aespa, itzy, gidle, stray kids, soojin, le sserafim, kim minju, and more
status - starting soon
a/n - collab with @spadesolace
THEE GAYS | yeji’s hate club | undercover gays | minju’s kids
chapters
00. prologue
01. dispatch strikes again
02. new friends
03. that’s sooo gay
04. the cute mc
05. aespa’s leader
06. y/n’s fangirl moments
more to be added
taglist (open) - @baelabong @wonnniee @saysirhc @sixflame438 @drvirgus @mary00m @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @samhomo @kkqums @yenasgff @yuyuy90
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god forbid a girl goes feral for a twenty-nine year old korean woman that’s a worldwide pop-star (can you tell i’m losing it)


#tei thoughts#i really love nayeon sm#im nayeon#oh god women#i saw a woman so beautiful i started crying
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girls will be girls making me feel like i’m back in 2019 and falling for itzy all over again… also i might go back to being a lia bias, who knows
look at this cutie



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silly little spade lore for pride?
little spade having a crush on shego and kim possible was the only sign needed for everyone to know i’m the gay cousin
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thomasian! accounting major nayeon who took the CPALE and has post-exam nerves but also not being online to see the results itself with atenean! chemistry major reader who is still reviewing for the chemist licensure exam (i wish there was an actual abbreviation for this). one is up for god knows what time reviewing while the other is going insane over the results
will i write it? prolly not now but its a good idea to throw out there
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about you - sophia laforteza x fem! writer! reader
synopsis: childhood best friends with their life somehow already built for them, one made for the stage while the other is made for building those stories said for the stage. unspoken feelings and unsent messages soon came to bite them after years of acting like it’s nothing.
spade speaks: it took me about 3hours to sit down, start and finish this in one sitting. happy pride month, here’s some angst (or fluff)
it was no surprise when you heard the news that sophia had participated in a survival show in order to debut. two years of her living in los angeles, you had thought she would have already been planning to debut or something.
this was your childhood best friend, having been forced into one space when your mother was a screenwriter while sophia’s mom is an actress. two quiet souls, sophia was always humming or trying to copy her mom whenever there was no babysitter for her when her mom would go to work. the same way for you, sometimes your mother is so engrossed in work that she forgets to ask your cousins to take care of you.
with your respective mothers working together all the time, it was bound to happen - sophia had slowly become a constant in your life, the very same girl who would sing to musicals while you read the script and understand how such words could be used as instructions to make something come to life. from the age of 6, sitting next to each other backstage with shared headphones, doing assignments in the same space, even showing skills that would slowly lead to where you two are.
by the time you two were 13, sophia had been reading lyrics and dissecting them as well as learning multiple instruments to keep up with her musical theater background. you, on the other hand, are always buried in books, learning to write stories and using the right metaphors for such stories. although, you both needed each other; asking sophia how to say something that sounds a bit more flowery while she asks you to make a line that seems to have a huge impact in the musical makes sense to your young minds. the closeness was hard to explain, because with every soon to be singer or musical performer there is someone closely tied to them that writes everything in such a vague yet intelligent way.
she never knew when it shifted, how every song she has written was drawn from you as the muse, with every small performance she would hold in the dressing room of her mother, you’d sit there and applaud her. maybe unaware of the fact that those songs have always been about you, a secret that isn’t so private and is being yelled out to the world.
it was the same for you, every poem, prose, short story, sophia was your muse. the way you’d describe her laugh, her smile, and her voice - anyone would just assume it’s some girl but to those who knew the close relationship; it had always been about sophia.
“whatcha writing?” sophia peeked over your journal, all of which is a mess. scribbling out ways to describe the girl next to you as you tried to dismiss it.
“just something, keep thinking of a line but i don’t know how to work around it.” it was true, you’ve thought of something that could possibly tell her everything that is running in your mind but you had to stop yourself. after two years, sophia was finally back home - back to you.
“mind telling me?” you shook your head, closing your journal as you stuck your tongue out in a teasing manner.
“uh no? you won’t even tell me what your debut track is. so this is how you treat your best friend?” it was a joke, you and sophia grew up teasing each other without any lines being crossed, but this time. somehow sophia would want to remove that title of ‘best friend’ to something more.
“it literally is called ‘debut’ that’s all i can say.”
“boooooo! at least tell me something juicy.”
sophia rolled her eyes, shoving you as she stood up and headed towards the kitchen in her family’s house. you basically live there, her family loves you dearly as they invited you when the finale of dream academy was happening. “chismosa ka talaga”
“says the one that asked me for updates when she was in the states.” all harmless fun, following sophia behind as you gently reached for her waist holding her as you looked at the contents of the pantry. the singer in your arms stiffened, face flushed as she tried to not think of it as such. looking at the assortment of snacks as you placed your chin on her shoulder.
in sophia’s mind, you considered everything as material; maybe its for the novel you’ve been writing during your spare time, understanding the feel and how to convey the emotions and describe it without telling much.
for you, maybe it’s a bit overstepping to hold your best friend in such an intimate way when you’re only browsing for a snack. not in an opportunistic way but a writer’s instinct to preserve what hurts, lingers, and let everything slip away unnoticed. maybe it was selfish, or foolish. when you reached up to pick your snack in the cupboard, arms brushed and sophia didn’t move, nor flinch or shift, clearly something was off.
“an angel like you, darling, you’re not perfect nor easy…” the line you’ve been stuck on trying to work around with. pulling back as you opened the small bag of chips in your hands. letting it slip past your mouth before you could stop them, a whispered dialogue that was covered in unspoken feelings that is used to convey the emotions of one of the character’s in her novel.
“huh?” sophia turned to face you, furrowed brows, eyes sharp as the tension between you two grew thicker as the seconds ticked by. you could only clear your throat, reaching over the glass of water which you assumed to be yours (it’s sophia’s).
“it’s the line that i’ve been stuck on… i think i know what could follow next to it.” sophia hates how you said it so nonchalantly as if all you think about is your work. she could only nod, taking a chip from you as she took the same glass of water.
“you write about angels now?”
“metaphorically.” you pulled your phone out, writing the line in one of your notes with a title that is so you and sophia understands it immediately.
“give me some input?” sophia didn’t answer right away, instinctively reaching out for your phone as the note, with that title. you’ve let her read a few chapters and lines every once in a while, back when you only started to polish out the plot and tried to make sense of it.
“input on what exactly?” finally looking at your phone screen, seeing some of the random lines and moments you have as if to try and make it fit into your novel.
“where it goes? the dialogue? it’s clear that there’s tension between the two characters but does it convey that.” that was the problem, you always said everything without really saying anything, hidden between metaphors, flowery words that could make anyone romanticize whatever it is you’re writing. yet, this one felt raw, vulnerable as she read the single line on your notes app.
‘an angel like you, darling, you’re not perfect nor easy. But no one would dare tell me you’re hard to love.’
since when did you start to write straightforward yet use metaphors to convey someone’s innocence and purity within your eyes. her throat went dry as she sneakily scrolled up and read a few more other lines you’ve written down.
‘to have someone as beautiful as you to have fallen for such deceitful words and actions…’
nothing new followed, but if she could get some answers, some sort of clue on who your muse is, maybe the ache in her heart would lessen each time she’d read your works. still, sophia ever so kind doesn’t let her emotions get the best of her, the same way her mother has taught her whenever she’d be on stage to convey her emotions for a role,
“maybe turn it into a monologue, it sounds like a confession more than a dialogue itself.” her response calculated, with her tone cool and critical. sort of asking you to say it as it is rather than beating around the bush. she watched you bite the inside of your cheek as you took your phone back. “let the confession flow without any disruption, but also not giving the whole thing in one full sweep.”
“show it without saying it as it is… that’s kinda sad, don’t you think?” there was something about sophia’s response that made you stop and not think of the novel but rather your feelings that have always been perfectly hidden. sophia wasn’t talking about the novel anymore, you knew that and she knew that you knew.
“you like angst, right?” she walked past you with your shoulders brushing to make you notice the sudden shift between you two.
[...]
it’s been days since that line, since the late night snacks, the shared glass of water that wasn’t yours to begin with, and the silence that felt like a door was closing. yet, things are fine.
you and sophia are fine. this has happened way too many times that you could simply brush it off and talk about it some time after.
she still rolls her eyes whenever you write a cliche, you’d steal her fries because you always forget to order for yourself, and she sends you drafts of her half-finished songs that would always play through your headphones. embarrassed to admit you play them on loop even if it made no sense to do so, like the weight of each line doesn’t hang in your mind long after the last note.
neither of you have mentioned that night. somehow it’s better to keep it that way.
sprawled on her bedroom floor, laptop open typing away with your back against her bed while she sits cross-legged on her bed with her guitar. her room still smells like lavender and vanilla, not in a way that would make you nauseous but one that will always remind you of her. it’s warm, safe, and feels like home.
her humming is the only thing that keeps you focused while typing away, her fingers gently strumming the strings of her guitar as she breaks the silence.
“i finished the song. wanna hear it?” it was casual, getting ready to play it because she knows you’ll say yes regardless.
“the allegory one?” sophia didn’t answer right away, her gaze on the fretboard as her fingers hovered over the strings. you expected a joke, a pun, but she started playing and all you could do is place your laptop down and listen to her.
her strumming is slower than you remembered, as always her voice is steady, but the lyrics were where you focused your entire attention. still wrapped in metaphors and a bit of reality as it seems, still not fully aware of the message if its regards to someone else or a movie she had recently watched. but no.
every beat, every rest, every word she left unsaid from a few days ago was slowly coming back to light. she’s a genius when it comes to songwriting and conveying her emotions in the music; probably why a lot of people voted for her back in dream academy. still, sitting there and trying to decode the message, interpret it the way sophia wants to because you’ve always managed to pinpoint what the exact message is but this time - you can’t.
you don’t want to assume, sophia taught you to never assume something just so you won’t be disappointed. you don’t look at her, you can’t so you sit there still like a stone and hope that maybe the moment won’t change and she won’t bring up what had happened a few nights ago.
sophia sets her guitar down beside her, you can feel her looking at you, waiting. not for a reaction, or praise, but for you to be honest with her. and this time, you don’t know if you can brush it off.
“it’s great… hearing it live is much different from hearing it through voice memos.” clearly it was forced as you gave her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. you’re stupid to believe you could brush it off by complimenting her godly talents and skills. you don’t know what to say or do in this scenario because you don’t even know if she feels the same way.
sophia doesn’t say anything right away, she’s used to you doing this. the deflection, the way you’d praise her, say the message as it is portrayed by her but this time you can’t. her gaze towards you is unreadable, you can’t decipher it like before and it pains you.
she hates how practiced you are when it comes to pretending that nothing happened a few days ago. you hate how she isn’t calling you out for it.
you think about telling her the truth on how her song felt like you’ve been gutted in the quietest and subtlest way possible. how a part of you assumes it’s about you and how you wanted to believe that it meant something, more than whatever it is that you two have going on since you were thirteen in the dressing room of sophia’s mom when you started to share your works with each other.
but the words don’t come out.
what if you’re wrong? that you’re read into it too much like you always do and it’s just another metaphor; you’re the only one giving meaning to it. similar to the times sophia would hug you a second longer, always choosing the sit next to you when there’s a bunch more to choose from, and how sophia would always pick the longer route as if to extend her time with you before she goes back to los angeles to prepare for a comeback.
instead, you look at her, compliment her once more with a soft laugh to accompany it. god, you sound robotic.
she hums, not in agreement or amusement but… acknowledgement.
“yeah, it came together when i just let it flow and wrote whatever seemed fitting and just worked around it by phrasing it differently.” you freeze, turning to look at her as she had her gaze on you all this time. it made your throat dry as you opened your mouth to say something. some sort of agreement or acknowledgement but nothing.
“well, enough about that, how’s your writing?” right, your novel - the very same one that you’ve been working on since she was in los angeles for training and development. you’re almost done with it, journal entries turned into a novel to convey the emotions that you’ve long harboured for the girl looking at you with such icy cold gaze.
“almost done, just finishing up the final chapter and probably read through it once more after a few days.” she doesn’t push nor ask to read about it, whenever you’re close to finishing she gets the first read. this unspoken dance, you’ve done this before; too many times to count but this time it doesn’t feel right.
the silence that follows makes you uncomfortable that you repositioned yourself on the floor. it isn’t the usual comfortable silence that you both were accustomed with when growing up. you feel like standing at the edge of a cliff, something real that if you fall could either make or break your friendship.
neither of you is taking the leap of fate, not yet at least.
[...]
the laforteza year-end parties are always fun because it’s sophia’s birthday for the first half until the clock strikes midnight and you’re screaming happy new year and making a bunch of noise.
sophia’s birthday is as you expected, there’s a theme and this time she had asked it to be more so a black tie event. were you surprised to hear her say she had managed to get you a suit that would go perfectly with her dress? no, because sophia always tries to match your clothes during social events, and it’s no surprise that she has done it again.
“so purple dress for you and a purple suit for me?” you two still act as if there’s no tension between you two that happened right in her bedroom.
“you act like it’s the first time.” she straightens your suit jacket, then with precise fingers sophia adjusts your necktie almost as if choking you. “matching on such events is our tradition.”
you cough up a bit, shooting her a half-hearted glare as you loosened up your tie. “strangling me on your birthday? you got something to say, laforteza.”
she rolled her eyes, flipping you off as she does the finishing touches of her hair and makeup, making sure she looks presentable for the guests downstairs. a soft smile on your lips as you watched her through the mirror.
“you’re already beautiful, sophia.” how can a simple compliment from you make sophia feel so weak on her knees, turning around as she gave you a soft smile followed by a wink and a flying kiss.
“always the smooth talker.”
the party is exactly how you’d expect it to be; formal, loud, a carefully curated playlist that shows the type of genre sophia likes but also not enough to make the elderly have a heart attack. it’s warm, colorful, and hers. moving through the entire party with you by her side like always.
no one knows that sophia sang you an original like before, that there is underlying tension between you two as you tried to brush it off like its nothing. not even sophia knows that you’re holding onto each line of those lyrics like a lifeline.
you’re pretending everything is fine and so is she.
next thing you know, the countdown comes fast; everyone is screaming at the top of their lungs as you reach over and hold sophia’s hand. ten, nine, eight - your other hand cupping her cheek, taking a deep breath. maybe it’s the alcohol from the amount of champagne and secret vodka shots you’ve been doing with sophia that gives you the sudden urge to be bold. before you could do anything, the clock strikes midnight, screaming ‘happy new year’. like the rest of them with glasses clinking, confetti popping, and someone pulls her into a hug. it’s her mom and you don’t have anything against it when sophia is hugging her back while you’re handed a sparkler by her younger brother.
cheeks flushed from the alcohol, the noise, and how you almost took the leap of fate.
you didn’t stay much in the party, walking out towards the balcony on the second floor, watching the last remaining fireworks from the distant go off. the sparkler long gone with your empty champagne glass. guests slowly leave one by one, some remain tipsy and curled onto the couch as you just stood there with an empty champagne glass and the chatter from the living room.
slender hands take away the glass from you, handing you a bottled water, chilled as you took with gratitude. sophia’s barefoot now, heels long forgotten as her hair is still luscious despite sweat on her forehead from dancing.
“thanks..”
“no worries.” she leaned onto you, arm around yours as you continued to watch guests leaving and waving at you two goodbye. soft smiles and unspoken words as you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“i left my gift for you in your bedroom.” sophia looks up, tilting her head to the side as she tried to recall seeing something out of place in her room
“what is it?” you bit your lip, just guiding her to her bedroom where the paperbag is placed right on sophia’s study table. she doesn’t look at you, only the bag as you slowly hand it over.
enchanted. by y/n barretto.
sophia looks up at you, not sure what to say as she flipped through the pages not yet registering that you had finished the manuscript. her hands close around it gently, her name on margin of the chapter title. it wasn’t printed, but handwritten in your old green journal. it’s intimate, and holds a lot of sentimental value.
“you finished it… when?” you shrugged, not really recalling the time and date when you had finished writing it all when you had written most of it digitally but each one held the original draft on how you wanted to convey each emotion in each chapter.
“i don’t really know… time started to blur when i was nearing the end but… you should probably read the ending first.” the weight of it hits her, was she right all this time and she wasn’t reading too much into it when you made the love interest have such distinct features that resemble her? she can’t remember the last time she read your drafts, mostly undone and messy.
sophia flipped through the pages, the ending didn’t really have much to say. you took sophia’s advice, let the emotions flow without any disruption as she read the same line you had uttered that night in the kitchen.
“you don’t have to read it now-”
“shut up? you wrote an entire manuscript for what exactly?” she wanted to ask you if this is a confession, if it’s real but she knows better.
sophia knows how you speak when it comes to writing, that sometimes you don’t have to think too much about it because actions alone tell you everything you need to know. you’re not one for declarations, but in the subtlety on how you could convey your emotions for sophia after all these years.
instead, she places the manuscript down on the table, reaching out for your hand, not to ask you anything but to give you the silent answer you had long wished for.
[...]
sophia is a fast reader. she always has been and annoyingly so. you remember lending her books years ago and she’d go through them within a day or two, it is was just a compilation of short stories, she’d be done in hours.
it was no surprise that she’d go through the manuscript to understand and decipher every single metaphor in it. from the moment she had woken up from the new year’s party and her birthday, walking around with her hair a mess. until she fell asleep, she didn’t put the manuscript down. not a single greeting from her the entire day and night as you watched her through the call because she told you that she wanted to read it without you cringing at it.
she was writing in a separate notebook every single thing that even when you tried to stop her from reading, she’d hiss at you like a cat.
“did you just-”
“yes, i did,” she flipped through the page, a soft smile as she wrote on her notebook once more. ”now i’m almost done, so please shut up.”
you let her be, ending the call and doing your own thing as she was in her room reading through the manuscript, until the very end of it.
every so often, sophia would mutter something under her breath and she’d text you about what chapter and tease you about it before going back to it as if your heart isn’t being toyed with.
then you get the call, late at night, around 2 in the morning.
“i finished it.”
“good evening to you as well, sophia.” you bantered, stifling a yawn as you pressed the phone to your ear as you tried to stay awake.
you could hear her take a breath, shallow but steady. “i knew by the way, even before reading this, but to have it laid out written in a novel… you normally hide your feelings in your writing but this one just, throws it all out there.”
“well… it’s the original draft. everything i have thought of and written about is in that journal.” sophia hummed, you could hear her walking around her bedroom when you were about to fall asleep.
“i’m coming over.”
“what?! sophia, it’s two in the morning!”
“then come over.” her voice was a bit pleading, as if she can’t handle it anymore. “please.”
that’s all it took for you to get your car keys and head on over to the laforteza household in your pajamas. sophia didn’t even end the call, waiting for you to arrive so that you wouldn’t knock or disrupt anyone else at home.
once you’ve parked your car with sophia standing right there in front of you, holding the manuscript in hand. taking a step towards you, no performance, no teasing, as she stopped close enough that you could feel her body heat radiating; the unspoken words still hanging between you two, heavy as ever.
“i spent years writing songs about you because i was too afraid to tell you what i truly felt. god, i even have a song called ‘this song’ that i had been waiting to use because we’re both terrible at this.” sophia didn’t mean to tease you with the truth but it is what it is; you’re both bad when it comes to admitting your romantic feelings for each other as you held her hand. letting a soft laugh slip through your lips as you took a step closer.
“a part of me kinda assumed that every song you wrote was about me. it only made complete sense that maybe i was right a few days ago.”
“cocky as always.”
“and you love it, sophia.” your hand slowly reached up to cup her cheek, pulling her closer as you could only whisper between the small gap before any of you could close the gap.
“let me be clear; i love you and not just in the things i’ve written nor the silence we’ve lived through for years… i love you, sophia laforteza.”
“you’re so cliche, but i love you too.”
you let out a breathless laugh, the kind that just slips out when something finally stops hurting. letting the gap between you close as sophia pulled you in for a kiss, one of many to come.
#katseye#katseye x reader#katseye sophia#sophia laforteza#sophia imagines#sophia laforteza x reader#sophia katseye#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#angst#fluff
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bro is zooming through this fic as if she doesn’t have a draft rotting
“i wrote this song about you” sophia laforteza with “i wrote 100 poems for you” reader
choose your fighter cause honestly one somehow ended up in a good way, the other is just angst
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WE WANT BOTH 😁😁😁 but the second one reminds me of "100 tula para kay stella" but its sophia laforteza 😺
at some point i’m gonna drop some spade lore and you’ll either question why i did it or how stupid i was to do it
but lowkey it is sorta inspired by “100 tula para kay stella”
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“i wrote this song about you” sophia laforteza with “i wrote 100 poems for you” reader
choose your fighter cause honestly one somehow ended up in a good way, the other is just angst
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chemistry and yeji... in one post...
✦ - river eyes



itzy
pairing - hwang yeji x fem!reader
genre - gxg, fluff, idol x non-idol, slight angst, love at first sight, slow burn, strangers to lovers
— in which, itzy’s yeji bumps into a girl at han river and instantly falls in love with her after making brief eye contact. she keeps coming back to the park in order to get a glimpse of her mystery girl and maybe get her number
It started with a glance.
Yeji didn’t believe in love at first sight. She believed in effort, in time, in slow-burning connections that were built, not sparked. But all of that shattered the day she looked up from her coffee and met your eyes across the Han River promenade.
You were sitting on a bench a few meters away, hunched over a textbook with a pen tucked behind your ear—hair pulled back into a lazy ponytail, earbuds in, a steaming tumbler of tea nestled beside you. The kind of scene that should have felt normal, background noise, but when you glanced up and your gaze caught hers—even just for a moment—Yeji felt like the whole park shifted.
Your eyes were warm, deep, and soft like the river on a calm day and you smiled—a tiny, polite curl of your lips. Nothing over the top. Nothing flirtatious.
But it wrecked her.
—
The next day, Yeji came back to the park.
She told her manager she wanted to jog more. That she was trying to clear her head, find new inspiration. It wasn’t a lie, exactly but the real reason was you.
You weren’t there the second day or the third. Yeji tried not to feel disappointed, but she stayed anyway. She bought coffee from the same stand, walked the same path, sat on the same bench.
And then, on the fourth day, there you were.
You strolled in with your tote bag slung across one shoulder, same worn-out textbook in hand. The sight of you made Yeji’s stomach flip. She ducked her head, pulling her hoodie low, but her eyes followed you as you took the same bench as before, earbuds in, lips moving softly to the rhythm of whatever song was playing.
Yeji watched you from afar, just watched and somehow, it felt like enough.
She kept coming back. Not every day, but often enough to feel like she was part of some secret routine with you. Like you were two planets orbiting the same sun, occasionally aligning without ever colliding.
She noticed the little things.
The way your nose crinkled when you were confused. How you tapped your pen against your lip when you were deep in thought. The soft way your fingers curled around the cup when you drank your tea. You always sat alone—always left before sunset and always smiled at kids or dogs that passed by.
And Yeji? She was falling—quietly and quickly.
Her members started noticing, Ryujin caught her sneaking out with a cap and mask.
“Where do you keep disappearing to?”
Yeji shrugged. “Just the park. Clears my head.”
“Uh-huh,” Ryujin said, clearly not buying it. “You got a secret girlfriend or something?”
Yeji choked on her water.
—
Rain came a few weeks later, Yeji debated on staying home but something pulled her back to Han River—hood pulled up, umbrella in hand and there you were, again, sitting under the small wooden gazebo, wrapped in a gray hoodie, and your legs curled up as you read.
She hesitated, her heart pounded so loud she was sure you’d hear it and then she walked up.
“Is that Chemistry?” she asked, voice soft and casual.
You looked up, surprised. Then recognition flashed across your face.
“It is. Organic Chem, aka the bane of my existence,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips.
Yeji laughed, relaxing just a little. “Never took it. I was more of a music kid.”
You tilted your head. “I know who you are.”
That stopped her.
“You do?”
You nodded. “Hwang Yeji. ITZY’s leader, kinda hard not to recognize you—even with the hoodie.”
Yeji rubbed the back of her neck, sheepish. “I didn’t mean to weird you out. I—I just kept seeing you here, and I guess I wanted to say hi.”
You studied her for a moment. Then you smiled again. “Well, hi.”
“I’m Yeji.”
“I’m Y/N.”
You shook hands. Her hand was slightly cold from the rain; yours was warm and steady.
A pause.
“Can I get your number?” Yeji asked suddenly. “If that’s okay?”
You didn’t even hesitate. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
—
Texts turned into calls, calls turned into walks and walks turned into late-night bubble tea runs, study sessions and quiet evenings curled up on a couch with a blanket between you.
Yeji learned that you loved early mornings and hated coffee but always ordered it to stay awake in class and you found out that she wasn’t as confident off-stage as she looked on-screen, she got anxious, lonely, and exhausted.
And you made space for her—no cameras and no judgement, just you.
On your six-month anniversary, she brought you back to the park.
The sky was pink and gold, the river sparkling beneath the setting sun.
Yeji pulled out a tiny silver ring from her pocket, a small river-shaped engraving along its edge.
“For the girl who wrecked me with one look,” she said.
You laughed, a little breathless, a little teary-eyed.
“Still feels like a dream,” she whispered.
You squeezed her hand. “I’m real. Remember?”
And then you kissed her—soft and sure, like the river.
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bro keeps on holding off that wonyoung big4 au whenever they get a new idea (im bro)

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bro opened instagram and needed a minute to process if giselle’s acc was hacked or not bc why was i seeing nayeon?????
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u seem emotionally intelligent enough to give good advice any advice on dealing with a break up
feel it out, cry about it, don’t distract yourself too much bc it’ll bite you in the ass if you keep deflecting, and take care of yourself
hope you’re doing fine, anon
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