how it feels when you're neglecting your favorite fanfic and or tag and or your own work because you have real life responsibilities and you physically can't open the fic without going insane
we're not kids anymore.

titsay
taylor price
Xuebing Du
dirt enthusiast
🪼
trying on a metaphor
Sade Olutola

Product Placement

Discoholic 🪩
One Nice Bug Per Day
wallacepolsom
NASA
Cosmic Funnies

JVL

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
RMH
ojovivo
d e v o n

izzy's playlists!
seen from South Korea
seen from Poland

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Poland

seen from Malaysia

seen from China

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Hungary
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from Lithuania

seen from Iraq
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
@hip-nautics
how it feels when you're neglecting your favorite fanfic and or tag and or your own work because you have real life responsibilities and you physically can't open the fic without going insane
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Chapter 4 - “Patterns”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
A couple of weeks have passed. By now, the sharp autumn chill cuts straight through your layers. You pull your jacket tighter against the cold, freezing the moment a pleading cry cuts through the air.
“Y/N! … Y/N, there you are,” Minseo calls out breathlessly, sprinting to catch up with you outside the lecture hall building. You turn to face her.
“What is it this time?” You’ve strangely become used to her chaotic, energetic presence.
“...You alphabetize your notes.”
“What?”
“Your tabs are color-coded.”
“And?”
Minseo pauses. Then, her eyes turn pleading. “I need your help. Please.”
“With what?” You narrow your eyes.
Minseo zips open her bag and hauls out a chaotic binder bursting with wrinkled pages and loose photos: article drafts and interview snippets.
“There’s even more on my laptop,” she pants. “I’m drowning in all this info. I just need help sorting through it all because I definitely over-researched this week. I think I may have gathered way too much material in way too short a time. Please. I’m drowning academically and… journalistically.”
By now, you two have reached the campus cafe.
“That’s not a word,” you say as you push open the heavy glass door, immediately greeted by the cafe’s welcoming warmth, the scent of espresso and baked goods wrapping around you.
“You understood me perfectly.”
“Ugh. Fine.” You roll your eyes as you both slide into a cafe booth. You did feel a little bad for Minseo. She genuinely was working hard and trying to do the article justice. You knew how many interviews she had conducted, and just how many poor and struggling students there were whose stories all shared the exact same narrative: a relentless cycle of debt, financial strain, and sheer perseverance. Your thoughts flicker briefly to the message you saw on Hana’s phone a few weeks ago. Maybe the article will finally inspire some sort of tuition reform, you think. Besides, because of your anxious, overachieving nature, you had done most of your class readings and assignments for the next two weeks already; you are what they call a precrastinator.
Your phone buzzes once in your pocket.
Hana: Hey…I’m still wrapping up some stuff at home. Won’t be back until later…can you water my plant for me?
You frown. Hana has been gone for a few days now. She had mentioned something about going back home for a visit, but didn’t go into more detail about it. You type back a reply:
You: Of course. Let me know if you need anything else.
“I’ve uploaded most of the audio files and interview snippets to Google Drive. I’ll share the link with you. Can you just help me organize them? Maybe…sort them by something. Or something.” Minseo’s eyes are already glued to her laptop screen and she clicks away on her trackpad.
Letting out a heavy sigh, you click the link in your inbox, your eyes widening as you take in the absolute chaos of the contents. Audio tracks and text snippets are grouped blindly into random folders, while half a dozen rough drafts float around the main drive like digital debris.
“What is this file naming system?” you mutter as your fingers scroll over the trackpad.
“Instinct,” Minseo responds bluntly, taking a sip of her mocha.
“This one says ‘sad guy café maybe.’”
“And somehow I still know exactly who that is. Maybe. Hence…the ‘maybe’ at the end.”
“Why do you have ten files named ‘final_final_REAL2?”
“Well, that’s exactly why I need you!”
With a heavy sigh, you open a new Google Sheets document. You begin the grueling process of playing back the interviews, carefully sorting them, assigning colors, and logging timestamps for every snippet.
An hour has passed. You rub your eyes, which are beginning to burn from looking at the screen. Still, you diligently sort through disconnected transcript fragments. You eventually start to notice patterns emerging as you scroll through the snippets.
“I’m doing better now. Someone helped me out.”
“Who?”
“...I don’t want to say.”
“...Can we leave that part out of the article?”
“I…haven’t been sleeping a lot lately, because of my new…work. But, I have money to pay my tuition and rent now.”
“Your new work? Like you got a new job?”
“...Y-yeah. Yeah pretty much.” “What is it?”
“...I prefer not to say.”
“Can you redact my name please?”
You frown as you add yet another timestamp to the “Wants Name Redacted” column on your spreadsheet. Several interviewees demanded anonymity and began shutting down when Minseo started probing too deeply into how they were handling their desparate financial situations.
“You want to know what’s weird?” Minseo asks, cutting into your thoughts.
“There are a lot of things weird about this,” you murmur.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s that, when I started this article, I didn’t realize exactly how many students were struggling financially. Like, I would’ve never known, just looking around campus. Most people look fine, put together even. A lot of people are even wearing flashy bags and clothing.”
“Maybe people are just trying their best to hide it,” you shrug.
“Yeah. Guess so. Anyway, I’m out for the night. I can’t look at another spreadsheet.” Minseo begins packing her bag, stuffing her laptop and papers into her backpack haphazardly.
“Alright, I’ll stay for a bit longer,” you murmur, your eyes still scanning the audio files.
“Thanks a million again, by the way. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N,” Minseo calls out brightly as she pushes open the cafe doors.
You turn back to your screen.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
The soft taps of your shoes echo down the hallway as you and Minseo jog up to the door of your Social Psych class.
“Good, we’re not too late,” she says, panting lightly.
You nod. Professor Choi has only just arrived and is still setting up his projector. Students are still half-asleep, the only sounds of the classroom being the quiet shuffling of papers and the hum of the fluorescent bulbs above.
You instinctively scan the room for Sieun, who is already seated, AirPods in. You watch as ink-black strands of soft hair fall over his forehead as he leans over his notebook. The seat beside him, which had been occupied the previous week, is now empty. Minseo has noticed too.
“Hey, look, that seat’s empty! Let’s sit over there,” she whispers to you urgently. “It’ll be easier to talk about our group project after class anyway.”
She walks over to Sieun and waves her hands in front of him. “Ya, Sieun-ah.”
He slowly pulls out one AirPod and looks up at her, his expression neutral.
“Doesn’t someone usually sit here?” Minseo gestures at the seat beside him.
Sieun’s dark eyes flicker once toward the empty seat, then he shrugs slightly. “I don’t know,” he says in a low voice before turning his attention back to his notes.
“Systemic instability is tolerated surprisingly well by humans when there is periodic positive reinforcement,” Professor Choi’s smooth voice cuts through the silent classroom as he begins the day’s lecture.
Minseo immediately slides into the empty seat beside Sieun; you sit beside her.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
It has become routine for the three of you to stay after class to work on the group project. While a semester-long group project would leave most students in a panic, you feel completely at ease as the three of you make steady progress on it every single week. Well, more like the two of you; half the time, Minseo is either distracting you with her endless chatter or distracting herself, working on something or another of her own. Even now, Minseo glances at her phone before springing up, carelessly stuffing her things in her bag.
“Where are you going?” you ask.
“I forgot that I was going to get a follow-up interview from one of the students for the article,” Minseo replies. “Thank God I set a reminder. Good looks, Minseo from the past.” She slings her bag over her shoulder before continuing.
“One of the students I talked to said she got financial aid from somewhere and said she managed to turn her whole situation around. She stopped panicking about tuition overnight. I wanted to follow up and see how things were going with her.”
Sieun glances up briefly now, the early afternoon sun catching and reflecting in his dark brown irises.
“This is either going to turn into a heartwarming story about institutional support—” Minseo begins.
“Or?” you probe.
“Or rich people and their selective charity continue to baffle me. Anyway, it’s thanks to your psychopathically organized spreadsheet that I even remembered I interviewed her. So thanks, Y/N! Anyway, good luck with the project, guys. I believe in you!” Minseo waved cheerfully as she hurried out of the classroom.
After Minseo leaves, you and Sieun settle into a quiet, but not quite awkward, working rhythm: you clicking away at your keyboard and him scribbling with his pen.
Pausing your work after a while, you let your cursor drift toward the spreadsheet tab. Your fingers hesitate over your mouse for a beat before you finally open the file. An array of brightly colored boxes appears on the screen, lighting up your face. Sieun notices.
“So, you’re helping Minseo with her article?” He asks quietly.
Your finger freezes on the trackpad. You look up and realize he has leaned in to read your screen; his sudden proximity catches you off guard. This close, you can’t help but trace the soft, elegant curve of his brow, and the distracting fullness of his lips. A sudden wave of heat burns cheeks.
“Yeah,” you manage, your voice sounding tighter than you intended. “Mostly just… organizing and sorting her interview transcripts.”
“Sounds time-consuming,” he murmurs, the light from the screen reflecting off his soft brown eyes.
“Minseo’s filing system is…emotionally upsetting.”
The joke falls flat in the space between you. Sieun doesn't laugh; instead, his gaze flickers slowly from the laptop screen back up to your face. The deliberate movement makes your stomach drop and flip violently.
“Hm.” His piercing gaze anchors onto yours, studying you with an unnerving, quiet intensity.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat as you tear your eyes away and look down at your lap.
“...What?” you falter, your pulse thumping in your ears.
“Nothing,” he murmurs. The intensity vanishes as quickly as it came as he turns back to his notebook.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
Later that evening, you tag along as Minseo leads you to the Student Center, a large, sprawling building bustling with students hanging out and studying. You two are going to interview one of the RA’s on campus. Because you had sorted the interviews by topic, you had noticed that one of the recurring themes was the students’ struggle to pay for housing, either on campus or off campus. Minseo had dragged you along because “you remember transcript details so much better than I do, plus, now you can just pop the files directly into that nice organization schematic you developed!”
As you enter the vibrant hub, warm air and loud chatter greet you. Students are studying, laughing, and buying snacks and drinks at the few food vendors still open.
“So…do you know who you’re looking for?” You ask, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the crowd. This is the first time you’ve been to the Student Center; usually, you try to avoid large crowds.
“Soojin? Yeah. She was actually my RA my freshman year. Oh, there she is! Yo, Soojin-ah!” Minseo hooks her arm through yours and hauls you toward the plush couches in the common area. Sitting alone on one of them is a girl, sipping an iced coffee while she scans over a heavy book balanced on her lap.
She looked up as you two approached. “Hey, Minseo, and…” Her eyes slide over to you.
“This is my friend, Y/N! She’s helping me with interviews.” Minseo tugs on your sleeve, pulling you in front of Soojin.
You bow your head slightly. “Nice to meet you.”
“Anyway, we’ll make this quick,” Minseo says, clicking on her audio recorder. “We noticed when organizing transcripts that a lot of students have trouble keeping up with payments for housing. We wanted to ask you if you’ve noticed a lot of students losing access to housing or whether they’ve received any resources to help them stay.”
Soojin laughs tiredly. “Nah. Students leave all the time here.”
You glance up sharply.
She shrugs. “People lose funding, transfer schools, move off-campus to find cheaper housing, or even drop out if they lose scholarship assistance.”
“That often?” Minseo asks with a raised eyebrow.
“College is expensive,” Soojin shrugs again.
“Does the university not offer these students any kind of assistance?”
“Not that I know of, but I could be wrong. After all, there are still a good handful that come back after saying they received some sort of financial assistance or sponsorship from somewhere. Not sure where, though.”
The interview snippets from earlier flash through your mind briefly. “I…haven’t been sleeping a lot lately, because of my new…work. But, I have money to pay my tuition and rent now.”
You open your mouth to press Soojin for more, but just then a clumsy, wide-eyed freshman collides heavily with the back of the couch, sending Soojin’s iced coffee spilling onto her lap.
“Ah…I-I’m so sorry,” he squeaks, his face turning red. He makes a couple of rapid bows at Soojin. Before anyone can say anything, an obnoxious, booming voice slices through the air.
“Hey…Doyun, there you are. Listen…” A guy with a neatly styled dark hair and a practiced smile strolled over. The sleeves of his button-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he had the look of someone who was used to weaseling their way into a conversation and emerging out of it with the upper hand. He slings his arm casually over Doyun’s shoulder, who jumps at his touch.
“About that thing,” the guy says, leaning into Doyun’s ear. “I can probably get you in, but…I’ll need the economics notes from you. And…that other thing.”
“Uh…ah…s-sure,” Doyun stammers, his posture stiffening. “I’ll get those to you as soon as I can. Thanks.”
“Perfect. Teamwork makes the dream work,” the guy smiles and winks at Doyun as they begin sauntering away from the three of you.
Soojin turns back around first, looking at her coffee-stained pants with an exasperated sigh.
“Ugh. That was Daehyun. Business major,” Minseo tells you with a roll of her eyes. She immediately grimaces. “Kind of sleazy. But statistically, most business majors are.”
“You know you say things out loud, right? And…he’s still like right there,” you say, nodding towards Daehyun, who has released the timid freshman but is still standing a few feet away from their couch.
“...And?”
“Hey, look who it is! Ya, Sieun-ah!” You and Minseo’s heads turn towards Daehyun for the second time. He has cornered Sieun, who is recoiling away from him in aversion, both of his hands clamped tightly around the straps of his backpack.
“Hey, you were in Business Stats class yesterday, right? I had to miss the review, unfortunately,” Daehyun says, slinging an arm around Sieun’s shoulder.
“What’s that got to do with me?” Sieun tries to shrug off Daehyun’s arm, his eyes narrowing slightly in irritation.
“C’mon, let me have your notes. I had to go to a networking dinner, you know, I couldn’t help it.”
“That’s not my problem.” Sieun twists himself free of Daehyun’s hold and turns away.
“Hey, you owe me. Remember when you had to miss class that one day? I covered for you during attendance.” Daehyun’s brow furrowed, clearly unaccustomed to having to work this hard to get his way.
“I didn’t ask you to.” Sieun’s voice is curt.
“Fascinating,” Minseo murmurs beside you. “What is?” you respond, your eyes still trained on the scene in front of you.
“Daehyun is trying to socially engineer Sieun and it’s not working. For once. HA!” Minseo gets up from the couch and walks over to them casually.
“Ya, Daehyun. Stop bothering my classmate.”
Daehyun’s head snaps towards her voice. “Wha-? Um, he’s also my classmate too. Mind your own business, Minseo.”
“HA! That’s rich, coming from you,” she retorts. “Anyway, leave him alone. I need him to be functional for the sake of my Social Psych grade.”
“Whatever,” Daehyun huffs, spinning back to face Sieun. “You know, one day you’re actually going to need something from somebody, and no one will be around to help you out.” He stalks away sulkily, leaving the three of you staring after him.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
Later that night, you lie awake in the hollow silence of your apartment, staring up at the water-stained ceiling and watching as the occasional car passes by outside and paints long stripes of light across the wall. Your phone lights up on the nightstand beside you.
Minseo: found the student i was trying to follow up with earlier Minseo: actually no i didn’t Minseo: nobody’s seen her in days Minseo: her dorm roommate says she moved out suddenly, didn’t say why Minseo: i just checked the student directory again Minseo: her name’s gone
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒Chapters should be getting longer and (hopefully) more exciting from here on out. Again, apologies if it a**, especially the first few chapters lol. I didn't proofread some of them.
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Chapter 3 – “Helix”
Golden sunlight cuts through the lace patterns of your bedroom window curtains, casting intricate, honey-toned shadows on your wall. 6:13 AM. Your feet ache as they trudge heavily across the cold floor to the kitchen. The shower is running; Hana is already up. You quickly down a glass of water, the coldness of it both refreshing you and waking you up. A faint glow catches your attention: Hana’s phone is lighting up on the counter. Before you can look away, you catch the first few words on the notification bar.
Final Notice: Tuition Balance…
You look away sheepishly as her phone screen goes dark again, as if you’d been caught prying.
A few minutes later, Hana steps out of the bathroom, her hair still damp and her scrubs on.
“Morning, Y/N,” she says, grabbing her phone. As she checks it, her expression darkens for a fleeting second before it’s replaced by a manufactured enthusiastic smile. She turns to you.
“You’ll have the place to yourself tonight. I…won’t be back tonight. If you want, have my leftover stew in the fridge. Otherwise you can throw it out.” Hana’s voice is clear and chipper; any traces of her earlier consternation are gone.
“Yeah…thanks.” You don’t ask where she’s going.
“See you, Y/N.” Hana vanishes out the door, leaving you alone with the quiet drip of the kitchen faucet, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, and your thoughts.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
You hate crowds. And yet, you find yourself weaving in and out of bodies, shouting to talk to Minseo, as she drags you from booth to booth. She had begged you to come to the student involvement fair with her after classes: “You’re so pale, you need some sun anyway!”. You two have already been approached numerous times, both by aggressive club recruiters, and people who knew Minseo, or at least, knew of that “one girl from the paper”. One boy approached them and lazily taunted, “Hey Minseo, when are you gonna write a feature on my handsome face and big muscles, huh?”
“When you actually get a handsome face and some muscles,” Minseo shot back.
Minseo turns around to face you, continuing to walk backwards through the crowd. She almost bumps into three different people.
“Okay, rule one: never trust a club with matching sweaters.”
“Why?” You’re speedwalking to match her pace.
“Cults. Or business majors. Sometimes both.”
Eventually, you approach a booth with sleek black-and-red signage, its logo a simple black-and-red spiral.
Helix Leadership Society
Academic Networking
Leadership & Student Development
Mentorships & Tutoring
Manning the booth was a tall boy with a straight, clean haircut and sharp features. Minseo’s tone, previously bright and sarcastic, shifts slightly.
“That’s Jeong Siwoo.”
“Should I know who that is?” You say as you squint at the brochures stacked neatly on the tabletop.
“Student council (총학생회) and President of the Helix Leadership Society. Everybody knows him. Apparently, he comes from money and has a lot of influence.”
The two of you stop in front of the table. Minseo casually greets him first.
“So, you recruiting future executives, or victims today?” She says with a roll of her eyes.
Siwoo has to lower his gaze to meet Minseo’s eyes. He smiles slightly, not offended.
“Depends. Nice to see you too, Minseo.” His attention shifts to you. You feel your spine straighten at his piercing gaze. “You’re a new transfer, right?” His voice is smooth.
“Um, yeah.” How does everyone seem to know I’m new?
Siwoo breaks into a gentle, encouraging smile. “Transferring mid-semester can be tough. Let us know if we can help you out in any way. We offer a lot of social and networking activities – could be a great way to make new friends.”
“Ugh. See? This is why I can’t with you club people. Always recruiting, sounding like a damn brochure.”
“Just trying to help,” Siwoo says silkily.
“Not succeeding.” Minseo then tugs at your arm to pull you away. As you two walk away, you glance back toward the booth, where another student is offering Siwoo a cup of coffee with a bow of their head. You see Siwoo accept it easily with a poised smile. You turn back around.
“Helix basically has their hands on everything on campus,” Minseo says.
“You don’t like them?”
“I didn’t say that.” She pauses. “I just think it’s weird when clubs or organizations start acting like they’re more useful than the university itself.”
You two stay until the end of the fair, when tables and booths begin packing up. The evening sun begins to set, casting everything in a rich orange glow. You catch sight of Siwoo across the crowd again, the golden sunlight making him look…almost handsome. This time, he seems to be helping a timid, nervous freshman who keeps bowing and apologizing. The freshman’s body language contrasts sharply with Siwoo’s perfectly calm and composed exterior. As soon as the student turns away though, you notice a tiny, almost indiscernible change in his expression. The warmth in his eyes dim; his smile drops; the perfect, helpful demeanor just ever so slightly cracks.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒ reader makes friends and meets new people. More Sieun fluff next chapter.
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Chapter 2 – “Group Assignment”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
The first thing you notice about Professor Choi Sungho is his calm, smooth demeanor. He glides into the room, his expression serene but unreadable. When he speaks, his words fall out like butter, smooth and articulate.
“Welcome to Social Psychology. Social psychology is the scientific study of how people's thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are influenced by others. In this course, you will investigate the psychological and social drivers behind why human behavior is so easily influenced by others.”
A hush immediately falls over the class as everyone’s attention is captured.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
“Now, you’ll have the rest of the class period to work on your group projects. Don’t waste this time, as I will not be giving you any more in-class time to work on this together!”
A couple of students groan. Same, you think, as dread begins to trickle through your stomach. A group project on the first day of class. Great. You glance at the board, where the groups are listed. You are with two other people: 박민서 (Park Minseo) and…연시은 (Yeon Sieun). Are we just supposed to just find who these people are on our own? You think bitterly.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” A girl with bright, cheerful eyes approaches you.
“...Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I’m Park Minseo. I knew because I heard we were getting a mid-semester transfer student, and I hadn’t seen you around before nor seen your name on the attendance sheets.” She smiles brightly at you.
“Ah…okay. Nice to meet you. Do you know who our third group member is? Yeon Sieun?”
Minseo nods in the direction of the sleeping boy who had caught your eye earlier. You find your gaze being pulled back toward him, his arms still folded neatly under his head, his features still motionless and tranquil.
Minseo leans in and drops her voice to a low whisper. “I heard he used to get into fights a lot in high school. Apparently, he even broke another guy’s ankle with a dumbbell. Isn’t that savage?”
You sweep your eyes over Sieun, hardly believing that a boy with as slight a build as he would be a vicious fighter.
“How do you know all this?” You have already determined that Minseo is someone whose words should be taken with a grain of salt.
“I know everything on campus,” Minseo winks at you. “After all, I’m a journalism major. It’s my job to know things. For example – see that guy?” She nods towards another student in the class. “Last semester, he couldn’t afford ramen. Suddenly, he’s carrying a new MacBook and skipping classes. That’s either crypto or crime.” She winks at you again.
You two make your way over to Sieun, who finally sits up and rubs his eyes upon your approach.
“Alright,” Minseo says. “Statistically speaking, this either becomes the best group ever or a complete disaster.”
You glance at Sieun, who is simply staring at Minseo, making no response.
Minseo sighs after a beat of silence. “Disaster. Definitely a disaster.”
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
Surprisingly, the three of you work efficiently together, already having divided up roles for each person. After a while of working silently, Minseo cuts in lightly.
“Hey, Sieun, what’s your major? Wait, no, let me guess.”
Sieun, whose head is bowed over his notebook, barely looks up at her.
“Probably something like…Statistics. Or computer engineering.”
“...Yes.” Sieun responds quietly, still focused on his notes.
“Yes? What do you mean? Which one is it?” Minseo prods, her eyes lit.
“Both. Statistics major with a minor in computer engineering.”
The victorious shout Minseo lets out turns a few of the other students’ heads. “HA! I KNEW it! I’m so good. Y/N, did you see that? I totally predicted that perfectly. I have like a sixth sense.” She turns back toward Sieun. “You know, even though you sleep a lot in class, you still sit like someone who used to get perfect grades.”
“...What does that mean?” Sieun has now lifted his head to gaze at Minseo. Though his expression remains neutral, his dark, doe eyes are surprisingly expressive. You find yourself shifting in your seat.
“I mean, you look stressed out all the time, but like in an organized way.”
A small laugh unintentionally bubbles out of you. Sieun slides his eyes over to you, and your laugh immediately dies out. His gaze is unexpectedly intense, even as his expression remains unreadable and calm as ever. You quickly drop your eyes.
“A-anyway,” you stammer, grappling for a subject change. “I just finished the project outline. What do you guys think?” You turn your laptop around to face the other two.
Minseo begins mouthing the words on the screen, while Sieun reads silently. After a couple of minutes, Sieun breaks the silence.
“Your conclusion contradicts your main hypothesis,” he deadpans.
You stiffen immediately. For some reason, you feel the need to get defensive, though you are no stranger to constant criticism, coming from the childhood that you did.
“It’s just a rough draft,” you bristle.
“I know.”
“Then why are you talking like it’s finalized?”
Minseo chimes in. “Oh, this is incredible. You two are already bickering like an old married couple.”
“No, we’re not.” Your cheeks flush slightly, and you glance away while pulling the laptop back towards you. You sneak a glance back at Sieun, whose gaze lingers on you for a beat, before turning back to his notebook.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
The class period is nearing its end, and people have become distracted. By people, you mean you and Minseo. Sieun remains as focused as ever.
“Ugh. I hate transcribing so much. Why can’t there be a program that automatically transcribes all of my interview recordings for me?” Minseo sighs dramatically.
“Maybe there is,” you suggest, leaning over to peek at her screen. “What are you working on, anyway?”
“I’m writing an article for the campus paper. I recorded some student interviews and now I’m working on transcribing them for the article.”
“You work for student media?”
“Uuuunfortunately,” Minseo sighs out.
“You say that like you hate it,” you tease.
“I love journalism. I hate journalism students. Anyway, I’m working on this thing about how students are surviving tuition increases. Seems like a lot of students are picking up secondary employment “opportunities”, but they’re all being pretty vague about the specifics. I have noticed that a lot of students have been able to turn their financial situation completely around, though.”
“Let’s stay on track now, shall we?” Professor Choi’s smooth voice cuts in before you can respond. He had been pacing around the classroom, observing the groups working. You hadn’t even noticed that he neared your group until he spoke.
“Er…yes. Sorry, professor,” Minseo stammers. After he walks away, she leans in to whisper to you again. “Apparently, he’s like a Distinguished Professor and Department Chair in his department. I do not want to get on his bad side.”
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
Class ends and students begin packing their bags, papers shuffling and laptops being clicked shut. Eventually, you are the one of the only ones left behind, still staring at the project draft on your laptop screen. Minseo had already rushed off to conduct some student interviews. With your head in one of your hands, you highlight, delete, and rewrite the conclusion paragraph for the fourth time.
“I didn’t mean for earlier to sound like criticism.” A quiet voice cuts through the silence, making you jump. You turn around; Sieun is standing behind you, his black schoolbag slung over one shoulder, his dark eyes assessing you intently. You feel yourself flush as you turn back around quickly.
“It’s fine,” you mutter. “You were right, anyway.”
“For what it’s worth, your new conclusion is great. I think it makes a lot more sense now,” he murmurs.
Heat rises to the tips of your ears, and you subtly shift in your seat, trying to block the screen with your body. “I’m still working on it,” you mumble. You move your mouse to highlight the concluding sentence again, meaning to delete it once more.
“It’s fine the way it is,” Sieun interrupts. “You’ve already revised it four times.”
You were watching that whole time? You turn back around to face him. His intense, obsidian eyes are still locked on you. You drop your gaze, which then lands on the soft, parted curve of his full lips. Your palms begin to sweat.
“I’m…sorry for earlier. But you don’t have to keep rewriting it just to try to shield yourself from any more future criticism. Just leave it the way it is now.” Sieun’s eyes dropped, his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. Your stomach sinks, and you don’t know how to respond. For some reason, his words felt like a punch in the gut. You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, searching for words, but before you can find any, Sieun turns and walks away. Your eyes trace the dark mass of his hair and his receding silhouette as he vanishes into the crowded hallway.
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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒ Lots more Sieun slowburn planned.
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Chapter 1 – “Transfer”
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The early autumn sun filtered weakly through the leaves as your arms strained to lift the cardboard box. Last one, then I’m finally moved in. Nerves tickle your stomach before you quickly suppress them. It’s too early for that.
Of course, being a transfer student at a new university was bound to be a little nerve-wracking. Transferring mid-way through the school year, no less, you think. A burning starts in your chest as you start thinking about your abrupt leave of absence from school last year. About how you had gone from being a top student to nearly dropping out of college altogether. Throughout high school and the start of college, you had been an overachiever. Teachers and professors praised you constantly, and you consistently made the dean's list at the end of each semester. Then the panic attacks started. Suddenly, every class felt like an anchor that was pulling you deeper into an ocean you were drowning in. All of your energy was spent trying to keep your head above water, and when you couldn’t, you would collapse in a heap of tears, gasping for breath. Your grades started slipping dramatically. Eventually, it got so bad that you had to withdraw mid-semester to check into an open ward (개방병동), where you received therapy and medical treatment for two weeks.
You grit your teeth and shake the thoughts away as you drop the last box in your dorm room with a loud thud. This is a fresh start; that’s why you transferred to HanSeong University in the first place. You’re receiving weekly tele-therapy, and you’re on a new medication. You’re turning over a new leaf.
The steady dripping of the tiny kitchenette’s sink became your soundtrack to unpacking. You felt incredibly lucky that you were able to find off-campus housing so cheap – until it was obvious why it was so cheap. Water stains littered the low ceiling. The linoleum floors peeled at the edges. Cabinets hung askew on their hinges. Still worth it to minimize debt, you think begrudgingly.
With a deep sigh, you finish unpacking the last of your things: a ceramic music box featuring delicately painted plum blossoms, its weight steadying in your hands. The only personal item you brought with you to college, given to you by your grandmother, the only person who didn’t tie your worth to your academic achievements. The music box had just met the surface of your desk with a quiet, metallic chime when the front door opened with a soft click.
A girl with tired eyes and brown hair tied back in a ponytail met your gaze. She was wearing scrubs and sneakers, which she was carefully taking off and stacking by the door. Your roommate.
“Hey,” she said quietly, as if she had no energy to speak louder.
“Hi.”
“You’re Y/N?”
“Yeah. Nice to meet you.” You began making your way towards her, your hand extended awkwardly, unsure whether it was appropriate to shake hands or not. She did take your hand, her hands warm and her grip loose.
“I’m Hana. I’m studying nursing. It’s nice to meet you, too.”
Hana’s gaze scanned your sparse room, landing on the lone music box you had just unpacked on your desk, lingering for a half a second too long.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
A familiar tension starts gripping your chest as you make your way to your first class of the day, Social Psychology. The sounds of student chatter grow louder as you near the lecture hall; once inside, all sensory stimuli amplified: the bright fluorescent lighting burned your eyes, and the scraping of chairs and laughter of students rang in your ears. You find an empty row of desks at the edge of the classroom and quickly take a seat. Your eyes scan the classroom: textbooks being unpacked, laptop keys being clicked, whispers being exchanged. Then, a magnetic pull draws your gaze to the opposite end of the classroom: a lone student, a boy, sleeping with his arms folded over the desk. Even from your distance, you still notice how his long, dark lashes lie over the dark circles under his eyes; how a lock of soft, raven hair brushes over his forehead. He is perfectly calm and still – not peaceful, exactly, but more just heavy with total exhaustion.
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author's note ﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒ short chapter, just setting the scene.
Pairing: f!reader x Yeon Sieun
Genre: slowburn, friends to lovers, thriller, long-form fiction
Warnings: panic/anxiety attacks, social exploitation, blackmail, corruption, gambling, debt/debt collection, drug handling, SA, financial struggle, academic stress, perfectionism, violence, use of y/n, fluff, no smut, reader is Korean, many OCs, not beta read
Word Count: 16.1k
Status: Ongoing
Synopsis: After transferring universities following a mental breakdown, you try to rebuild your life quietly — until you and a classmate begin uncovering systems that profit from desperation. As pressure mounts and buried violence resurfaces around campus, you find yourself drawn closer to the last person you expected to rely on: the quiet, unsettlingly perceptive Yeon Sieun.
Disclaimers: fictional characters, fictional institutions, fictional everything. I wanted to keep this as canon as possible, so the story is set in modern-day Korea and all the characters, including Reader, are Korean. I tried my best with the research for the piece, but at the end of the day, I am not Korean and I have sadly never been there, so please excuse any inaccuracies. Many of the college experiences are informed by my own in U.S. colleges, so again, I apologize for any inaccuracies or confusion. Chapters may not be proofread.
Author’s Note: I haven’t written anything remotely close to fiction in many, many years, let alone a romance. Also, this is my first fanfiction. So, sorry if it’s ass. Especially the first few chapters. I hope you still give it a chance. No set update schedule yet.
ch. 1 - "Transfer"
ch. 2 - "Group Assignment"
ch. 3 - "Helix"
ch. 4 - "Patterns"
ch. 5 - "Debt"
ch. 6 - "Repayment"
ch. 7 - "Night Shift"
blossoms
Reiner the man that you are let me take u to pound town
Levi and Kuchel in modern au
In this au, when Levi was a baby, Kuchel was going through financial difficulties. She wanted a photo of her son’s first birthday, since she didn’t have any pictures of him yet, so she asked one of her neighbors if he could lend her his camera and take a picture of her with Baby Levi.
Teen Levi and Baby Mikasa (Modern Au)
yuji
oh my godddddd he’s SO handsome 😦💦 and wearing himself on his shirt SJHSJS 😻😻😻