éphémère.

jiahn can't help but laugh, in slight disbelief that yerim truly thought that maybe she had made up the whole thing. honestly, she had never done it before but had enjoyed it enough that she thinks she might go back and see if she can get a couple more coasters done. it could be a lucrative side-gig eventually, maybe, if she got good enough at it.

food for thought.

she shrugs though, not really having minded doing all the coasters. "i liked your colour choices though," she says, never one to take a compliment without dishing one out in return. she tugs the coasters out of her bag to admire them again too, pleased with the result despite everything.

“it’s an interesting concept, i suppose,” yerim notes thoughtfully, still absently stroking her fingers over the fabric of the coaster. she glances over at jiahn, who had been able to make several ones — an impressive feat, compared to yerim’s single one (that she had barely even made herself). “the ones you made are really cute. do you think you’ll end up making more? make it a new thing to sell?” there would certainly be a market for it, she supposes. who doesn’t need coasters? 

they arrive at the café shortly after, yerim chuckling as jiahn runs to open the door for her. “why, thank you!” she does a quick curtsy, then steps inside, lingering by the entrance for jiahn to follow. the comforting aroma of coffee mixed with baked goods is the first thing she notices, causing her to relax slightly — she hadn’t even noticed how tense the whole tufting experience had made her. 

"You can have mine." She says without much deliberation, lacking the sportsman–like flair to get attached. Hers is like any other, except conveniently already in hand, ergo she holds it out for Yerim like some carbon fiber olive branch. "There's a couple in storage that some grad students left behind last year, I don't mind switching."

Rather than letting the tension build without aim, Shiyu sets the racket and bag down on the bench beside them and makes slowly toward the equipment room, path slanting sideways in an ambling path.

her eyes are somewhat narrowed as she watches shiyu, still unsure if she truly trusts that it’s that easy. (well, suppose it is just a racket. yerim can’t imagine she’d be awfully attached to hers, either, if she had her own. so maybe, just maybe, she’s being overly suspicious.) turns out it is, the bag and racket being placed down on the ground, leaving yerim to slowly blink after shiyu going off to pick up a reserve one. 

huh. weirdest fucking challenge she’s ever been part of, she won’t lie. still, she can’t back down now, and so she picks up the racket, giving it a few careful swings, an attempt at getting familiar with the weight in her hand. it’s lighter than tennis rackets, which is what she’s used to, but it should be fine. she hopes. god forbid she ends up making a fool of herself, when she could have just as easily ignored the challenge to begin with.

but the genuine fear that rushes through her veins and the relief that spread across her chest stumbling upon yerim at that moment is no act. hera didn't even realize how scared she was until the yerim's soft tone registers in her mind, her arm already secured. she didn't notice her trembling hands either, and she interlaces both of them as if holding onto the latter was the only way she could keep calm.

deep breaths, that's what her therapist would say. deep breaths, and every thing would be okay. it wasn't like this is the first time. but no, it should be something that's normalized either. it's happened before and she got through it unscathed and it would be okay. nobody got hurt. she didn't get hurt. yerim is safe too.

it wasn't usual for hera to spiral so much but the fact that she may have put yerim in an uncomfortable situation also made her panic a spike a bit higher.

but then yerim was speaking aloud and hera turns to her, eyes glossed over and panic stricken but in a moment it was gone and she is acting.

she squeezes her shoulder and and leans close, willing her voice to come out, levelled and excited, "oh, i'm so glad you could make it today!" she doesn't turn around to see if the man was still close behind so she keeps going, "and your place is perfect, maybe i'll call my manager for him to buy us something to eat!"

her pitch goes a bit higher when mentioning her manager but hopefully it wasn't so noticeable to the untrained ear. she doesn't even wait for her reply and started walking further and further from the business building, not even knowing where yerim lives and just walks until they're in a different part of the campus.

“me too, it’s been too long!” she keeps her voice louder than usual, and does her best to sound enthusiastic instead of worried, as they move in the direction of the gaeum building. there’s something in yerim that’s screaming at her to run, that this man might potentially be dangerous, but she can’t imagine that would do anything other than agitate him. and even though there’s two of them, she doesn’t like their chances against a fully grown man. briefly, she wonders why there’s no bodyguard following hera — it seems only logical that someone of her status should be protected. yerim makes a mental note to ask her about it, once they’ve made it somewhere more private. 

mentioning the manager is a good call, especially the fact that it’s a man. yerim casts the briefest of glances behind her, checking if she can still spot the stranger. he’s still there, though he’s lingering further behind — perhaps it had been too much to hope that he’d be deterred that easily. 

she gives hera a curt nod, her whispered “yes” barely audible. raising her voice, she makes yet another attempt at shaking off the man. “oh, i’m so hungry, i hope he can come fast. it’s lucky he’s strong, so he can carry a lot of food up to us.” 

but in terms of sensing and perceiving real life and people, he tends to ‘get it’ — picks up on cues and little shifts in mood and temperature. now whether he chooses to acknowledge them or let them influence his decisions and behavior? more questionable. sometimes feigned ignorance is bliss.

regardless, the simple truth is that he does notice when yerim locks up a bit. she’s never been that animated or talkative, but there’s a little extra buffering time where they’re left staring at each other in silence after his mini digression. there are several possibilities of why she might have reacted such a way — like his literal (strange) request to smell her, or the sudden aberration of him deciding to over share, or frankly just boredom and/or indifference towards the random details from his life... or was it something else that had struck a different type of chord?

thankfully for her, he’s not particularly nosy, and they are on a mission which requires him not agitating her too much. so he glosses over the moment of strangeness and follows her obediently over the the jewelry section. he does shoot one suspicious glare at her, something unspoken and along the lines of ‘you really had to pick the single most expensive section in the whole place?’ but in reality, she’s right to assume that price isn’t really the limiting factor here; and maybe if he'd been a better shopper or a more attentive son, then his wallet wouldn't have had to pay such a steep price. "yes. but try not to put me into crippling debt, if you can." it's a blank statement, more theatrics than genuine concern.

strolling into the section, they are approached by one sales rep who makes her attempt at earning some commission. "ah, you must be shopping for your girlfriend. how sweet! are you two looking for couple rings?" his first instinct is to scoff, cackle, or cut the saleswoman off, but he doesn't because: (1) that would be rude to someone just trying to do her job; and (2) he knows yerim probably wants to crawl out of her skin, which is total serendipity. she might not know this about herself, but for being someone so awfully well put together and level-headed all the time, she did give pretty satisfying reactions to being provoked. why else would he have spent so many years terrorizing her?

she does manage to resist the temptation to make her slight annoyance too obvious, settling for somewhat of a glare. though perhaps openly showing animosity towards him would have saved them from the sales rep approaching them, eager to make some money off them. yerim doesn’t blame her — one look at the two of them, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell they come from money. it’s not surprising that a sales rep would gravitate towards them. yerim isn’t even surprised at the assumption they’re a couple. 

what does surprise her, though, is that jinyoung doesn’t deny it. for a moment, she just stands there, staring at the sales rep, fully expecting the male to cut in with polite (well. as polite as he’s capable of) denial, which would in turn hopefully defer the woman from bothering them further. but nothing comes, and the beat of silence that follows is slightly awkward. 

yerim chances a glance up at jinyoung, and if she didn’t want to roll her eyes before, she sure does now. because he’s sporting what she recognizes as a shit-eating grin, but that she supposes might look like he’s happy, in love or something, to the sales rep. she very nearly sighs. well— fine. two can play this game, and she’s about to make him regret trying to mess with her, after she’d so graciously offered to help him out. 

looking back at the sales rep, yerim gives her a grin that rivals jinyoung’s, grabbing onto his arm and slightly leaning into his shoulder. “oh, not today, but that’s a great idea!” she giggles, and the sound makes her want to throw up. still, she keeps up the act. 

“we’re actually looking for a gift for my mother-in-law. her birthday is coming up, and my darling here still doesn’t know what to get her. maybe you can help us with that?” she shifts slightly, but still clings onto him. 

she's somewhat ignoring him, and well, he is used to being ignored. family and friends, he is the black sheep of the family, did it matter at this point who gave him the cold shoulder. however, minhyun doesn't think this should be something he should feel bad about. he doesn't, not really. yerim however? oh, he can see that there are things to unpack, simply put. something something learning to let go a little bit.

unlucky for her, minhyun has been through his fair share of situations like this - when one person doesn't seem to want to accept how things are and he needed to work extra hard to put the world back in balance. dramatic could be a word to use for it, but he couldn't care less. 

her answers come in way too quick and he can't help but sigh, shoulders slacking a bit and lips pursing. it's too quick and she back pedals even quicker. he moves further into the room, picks a desk a decent distance away from her, away from the door if she chose to leave really, giving her free way of passage, and leans his hip against said desk, arms still folded over his chest. "and why does it matter? did you not enjoy yourself? was it not fun?" he isn't exactly fishing, but maybe he is, he can rarely get a proper read on yerim and it annoys him to an extent. 

"yeah, and if we rewind a little bit, how often have you seen me around sungmin and how often have i seen you around him?" yes, they were cousins, but minhyun had long been banned from any sort of events his family was at. galas, family related stuff, work events, you name it, minhyun was only ever invited when his parents wanted to punish him for something and he has not been a teenager for awhile. "it's been years since the last event i went to. i don't speak with my parents, they practically forget i exist most of the time. yeah, sungmin is great, but this is between us. my cousin just happened to be caught in this." then again, minhyun isn't entirely sure he would have had that night play out any other way. maybe if he was fully sober...

she could make a run for it. escape, and minhyun would probably be hard pressed to bother her ever again. but if there’s one thing yerim knows how to do, it’s endure. there’s a perhaps too big part of her that feels as if letting go of situations in place of enduring them is a loss. a loss for who might be debatable. 

and so she stays, definitely against her better judgement she decides, as his next words causes a light pink to dust across her cheeks. does it matter? she wants to say, because really — does it? whether she had fun or not during their one night together is irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things. it’s not like they’ll ever be doing anything like that again. 

the only answer she gives him is in form of a stare, eyes slightly narrowed at him. really, if he has to ask, maybe he remembers less from their night together than she does, and she can’t think of a scenario where that doesn’t work out in her favor. she might not be able to take it back, exactly, but the less he remembers, the better. 

(and none of that has to do with her enjoyment of the night. because, well, she’d enjoyed it — that wasn’t the issue. or perhaps, having enjoyed it too much was the root of the problem. yerim doesn’t want to dwell on it, if she can avoid it.)

admittedly, minhyun does sort of hit the nail on the head with his next words. “no, you…” she starts. “you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

there is no easy way to say this. how is she meant to explain to someone who barely knows her, the real version of her, but knows of her — the curated experience, the image she portrays to appease her parents, that what people think is everything. even if she wishes it didn’t have to be. 

“okay, did you have to bring joon into this?” her tone is somewhat biting, and she looks away now, gaze fixated on the cover of her planner still lying in front of her. she’s aware of minhyun’s friendship with joon, but still — she fails to see how this is any of his business.

(and, perhaps she is a bit too aware of the fact that this is the second time since their breakup that she ended up in bed with one of joon’s friends. at this point, she can’t help but wonder if celibacy would be easier.)

“you don’t know me well enough for me to explain this…” she trails off, eyes finding his again. there’s still time for her to run away, before exposing more cracks in her surface. but, then there’s the part of her that thinks she at least owes him this much. following a deep inhale of breath, she opens her mouth to speak again, voice quieter this time. 

“what other people think of me is everything. and i wish it wasn’t.” her throat feels dry, and she pauses to swallow, looking away once again. there’s a sense of restlessness within her, causing her to start packing her stuff back into her bag, if only to have something to do with her hands. 

"oh," he says, trying very hard to conceal his unimpressed surprise. he had asked, anyway. to then criticize her taste wouldn't be a good look. he locks his phone, slips it back into his pocket. watches her with a gaze that lacks conviction. too soft and inconsequential to be a stare. "do you only listen to classical?" he wonders, some genuine curiosity to it. the more he thinks on the matter, it isn't a surprising revelation - her togetherness makes sense combined with the likes of music from centuries ago. it's still difficult to understand, anyway.

without giving her any real chance to answer, without risking an awkward beat of silence, he asks, "do you ever listen to radiohead?" like it's as ordinary a question as asking if she's eaten lunch. his hands are clasped together in anxious anticipation. he cracks his knuckles out of habit.

there’s something, she’s not sure if she would classify it as judgement, but he doesn’t seem impressed. doesn’t seem to know what she’s talking about, really. which is fine, it doesn’t matter. then his gaze softens into something that almost looks curious, and yerim feels herself unclenching slightly, visibly relaxing more as her shoulders fall lower. her hand is still resting on her phone, and she lets her finger trail over the volume buttons, further lowering the volume once mouse speaks again — he’s clearly not about to stop talking to her, and the least she can do is be polite. entertain him, at least for a little while.

(internally, she’s praying he won’t want to spend the whole bus ride talking to her like this.)

mouth opens to respond to his question, but before she can give an answer (‘no, but mostly’), he asks another. she presses her lips back together, giving a brief, barely-there nod as she listens to him talk. it almost makes her smile, hearing about his passion. 

Looks like three months have flown by already.

We know it sounds repetitive at this point, but when we first opened we never imagined the community would grow into what it is today. Thank you for your continued support, creativity, and dedication to making this space thrive. We’re so grateful to everyone who has been with us since the very beginning, and to all the new faces who have joined along the way.

For the three month anniversary, we’re introducing the Scrapbook Meme. Think of it as a keepsake for your muse: fragments, doodles, and little memories gathered from their time at Yeonhwa so far. By reblogging this post, you’re opening the door for others to send you emojis from the prompt list, and you can answer however you’d like: through writing, headcanons, edits, moodboards, whichever way you’d like. It’s open-ended and meant to be as creative as you want!

This meme will run from September 20th to October 4th, which will give you about 3 weeks to reblog. If you choose to participate, please ensure that you send a question to everyone who has reblogged the post as well, whether this be on your character’s account or on anon. Once again, thank you so much for the amazing three months and we hope you have fun with this meme!

he slowly swishes his oar in the water to drift them sluggishly along the still crystal clear heart of the lake. a bit of surprise comes over him, a light grin that feels a bit like a ghost because it's real and she summoned it.

he's quiet for the entirety of her words, really, just watching her and the water, listening and rowing... thinking. it is strange, in some ways. remembering the past what felt so foreign, so far, just 20 minutes ago but now it comes quickly, almost as if he hadn't forgotten it.

"it's easier this time. without our parents breathing down our necks." he stops rowing to hold it in his lap and let the wind take them wherever. "i don't think there was a place we could go without one of them watching, or annoying us. your mom fixing your hair or mine telling me to take an interest in business so i can make you a husband one day..." his tone is both frightfully amused and an entire horror show by the end. a chill, but not because it would be truly so terrible to be married to her but... that's not who they are, is it? he knew it even then. could feel it in the way they touched. maybe he knew too far before she did and maybe that made an asshole of him. joon can't be sure.

but, perhaps it’s something she can get used to, she thinks as she absently moves her own oar, letting it glide through the water. it’s not doing much, if anything, to move them in any particular direction. in fact, she’d been treating her own oar as if it’s decorative, allowing minjoon to do most of the work to get them to their current point. 

“thank god they’re not here.” she nods. though, to yerim, it feels as if her parents are always there, even when not physically present — always breathing down her neck, whether metaphorically or not. in this moment, though — this day, in general — she feels freer, in a way. looser. 

“you know, i really think that camping trip had almost been enough to make my mother change her mind. she was this—” yerim pinches her fingers together in front of her, “close to giving up on sungmin, and letting me marry you instead.” she lets out something akin to laughter — low, breathy, more of an exhale than laughter. 

“i think it’s for the best that things have changed. don’t you?” she questions, still absently moving her oar, without actually getting them anywhere. then— his next words makes her pause, eyes meeting his. 

everything about imogen is loud— her laugh, her hair, the way her footsteps fall— so trying to be inconspicuous?  … it never really works. but damn it, that doesn't mean she's not trying.

she'd already interrupted a few people's afternoon naps, much to her own embarrassment, but she wasn't ready to give up quite yet. she has to be up in one of these treehouses. imogen swears she saw her disappear in this direction.

with a soft grunt, she heaves herself up the ladder, and immediately proceeds to bonk her head against the entrance with a soft, "—ouch. fuck."

she readjusts her stance, poking her head into the room, sucking in a quiet breath when she sees her there, propped up comfortably on a pillow. "hi." yerim can't see it yet— only her glimmering eyes are peering over the threshold— but she's smiling. "got room for one more in here?"

… aaaand it’s promptly interrupted by the sound of fumbling coming from the ladder, something bumping against the entrance. this time, yerim’s sigh is one of discontent, and she can’t help but roll her eyes as she shuts her book, fully prepared to vacate the premises in order to avoid prolonged contact with whoever this intruder is. 

but… she recognizes that voice. something warm blooms inside her, and sure enough, moments later a familiar head of hair pops up from the ladder. the upwards tug of yerim’s lips is automatic, and she knows — despite only being able to see her eyes — that imogen is smiling too. 

how well she’s truly gotten to know the woman is something she would never have admitted to herself a few months ago. but, slowly, she’s been coming to terms with it. somewhat, at least. she’s trying. 

“imogen.” her voice is breathless. she doesn’t answer her question, though the way she’s looking at her, so intently, as if the room somehow got brighter the moment imogen entered (and let’s be real — it did), surely serves as answer enough. 

for a moment, yerim just stares as imogen settles near her, lips remaining curled up in a small smile. it’s… touching, how she seems to care — deeply enough to allow their entanglement to remain a secret from everyone. 

almost instinctively, she reaches for imogen’s hand, carefully wrapping her own around it. she’s used to imogen being the one to initiate any and all touches (except… for when yerim had kissed her), but it’s almost as if she’s too impatient today, unable to wait to feel the warmth of imogen’s skin against hers. 

imogen, who cares for her. who came here to check on her. who has been nothing but sweet, kind, and respectful of yerim’s boundaries ever since they resumed talking — despite the fact that yerim had treated her poorly. unfairly. 

yerim doesn’t know how to define the pang she feels in her chest at the thought. it’s not an unpleasant one, but… unfamiliar. and yet… safe. 

after having spent the night playing trivia along with her department's peers where she showcased her knowledge and ended up arguing with some polaris members about the same, usual topic, namely who's smarter among the two, stella returned to the dorms, put on her pink silky pajamas and drifted off to sleep.

however the following morning she woke up with a terrible headache. what did i do to deserve this? she mumbled to herself as she pushed the blankets aside to get out of bed. maybe playing trivia game until 1 AM to finally prove who's smarter between lyra and polaris wasn't exactly a great idea but as lyra's vice-president she couldn't back down.

if that wasn't enough, when she went to the bathroom to take a shower before having breakfast with yerim she was greeted by an unpleasant surprise: her body wash, her shampoo and her conditioner were missing. not only her beauty bag with her makeup and skincare in it was gone.

she starts panicking at first, but thankfully one of her roommates lends her hers literally saving her day.

despite the fact she really couldn't complain about any of her assigned roommates, she ended up with agatha and seoyun, two long-time friends of hers, and garam, someone who she enjoys being with, the only person who she wasn't familiar with being sera, but she couldn't complain about her either, quite the opposite actually considering she has been really polite with her and the rest of the girls, there was someone she was missing more than anyone else: yerim.

the two were introduced by their mothers, who are fairly close friends till today and have been best friends since their high-school days. they've been through all sorts of things together, always having each other's back, and they know each other better than anyone else.

in terms of personalities, they're the definition of opposites, attracting, yet perfectly complementing each other. and stella can't imagine her life without yerim.

once ready, she steps out of the dorm and heads down to the cafeteria. it's about 7:45 AM and the place isn't very crowded yet. the smell of coffee and sugar envelopes the air as stella stands in front of the counter, waiting for her order.

the cafeteria is simple, a little rustic and with a rather limited menu, exactly what you'd expect to find in a camp.

when her order finally comes out, stella takes the tray with her egg sandwich, a cup of greek yogurt and iced americano and heads over to the table where yerim is sitting, who, in the meantime, has saved her a seat.

once she reaches the table, she sets down her tray and takes a seat, ready to enjoy her breakfast and have a chat with her best friend, to catch up on the latest events.

except that’s what it feels like. no matter where she is, what she’s doing, who she’s with — at the back of her mind, she can always feel her parents breathing down her neck, the weight of their expectations a constant, heavy burden to bear. ‘it’s only right that you’re involved with everything you possibly can, socially’ she can practically hear her mother say — she doesn’t deny the fact that her mother might very well have said those exact words to her at some point. 

so she’d sign up for the MT, knowing she’d be hearing from her mother if she didn’t. and then, when they’d gotten the room assignments for the weekend? extra salt in the wound, already searing from finding out there wouldn’t even be served dinner unless they cooked it themselves. 

safe to say, this whole camping trip might just be choi yerim’s very own personal idea of hell. and yet, while she’s here, she’s trying to make the best of it — looking on the bright side, or whatever the hell it is optimists do. 

it’s… well, suppose it’s not all bad. so far. surprisingly, dinner had gone off without a hitch the previous night (after deciding to tune out jinyoung and minjoon’s bickering, that is), stella and yerim herself being the saving graces of the business department. trivia hadn’t been half bad either, seeing as she’d managed to subtly show off, and leave before whatever argument had gone down spiraled out of control. 

the same can’t be said for stella, who looks positively exhausted as she plops down in the seat yerim had saved for her. 

yerim lets out a chuckle, covering her mouth with her hand as she finishes chewing. (she’d been delighted to find out that they served her usual breakfast at this buffet — avocado toast, with a side of sliced fruit.) “you look awful,” she notes (with love, of course), gaze trailing over her best friend. a raised eyebrow at the mention of the feud with polaris, though she refrains to comment. yerim is well aware of it, though she can’t say she particularly cares much for the details. 

instead, she hums at stella’s question, taking a sip of water as she lets her eyes travel across the small crowd starting to form in the cafeteria, though not focusing on anyone in particular. 

exhausted could not even encompass how agatha is feeling at the moment.

after watching a bunch of students gather to hash out the rules of their impromptu capture the flag game, agatha quietly slips out as to not garner attention from one particular player. it wasn't like she just spent the past hour trying to get jinyoung as drunk as possible. feeling a little tipsy herself, agatha makes her way back closer to the fire, missing its warmth as she strayed too far.

she'd go to bed if she could but at the this point she wouldn't be able to lie down without the risk of throwing up. and there was no way she'll take that risk. she at least has some decorum left to not have people see her emptying her stomach. she doesn't know if future agatha will regret all the drinking, maybe future agatha will have some sense and not let seoyun know.

but present agatha is taking her sweet, sweet time. upon reaching the now small circle that stayed by the fire, she sees yerim and decided to sit by her. agatha plops down on the log beside the older girl, bumping her shoulders against the latter lightly to catch her attention.

"hey," she says softly, "you tired? want me to walk you back to our room?"

it has been a long day, and it must've been for yerim too, having seen her in the lake with joon. she doesn't prod about it, instead she turns to her friend fully, concern grow on her scrunched brows.

what started out as a fairly neutral day, or as neutral as it could be when she’s being forced (read: willingly signed up for) to spend the day camping, soon turned into what she might consider one of the best days of her life, it would certainly make the list, if she was keeping one. though, as usual, that had turned out to be too good to be true. 

yerim sighs as she stares blankly into the dying flames of the bonfire. she doesn’t know why she stuck around, really — the sight of the flames alone did nothing but remind her of exactly what, or rather who, had ruined her seemingly perfect day, and she can’t say she’s particularly fond of being around this many drunk people, either. still… retreating back to her room, all by herself, felt difficult — perhaps more than it should. 

the appearance of a familiar presence beside her snaps yerim out of what was beginning to look like a thought spiral, and she can’t help the relieved, somewhat tired smile that graces her features. 

“mmm,” she hums, gently leaning her head against agatha’s shoulder. it’s more affectionate than she usually is, even with someone as close to her as agatha, but she craves the closeness tonight. “i am,” she agrees, slightly frowning. she hadn’t realized just how tired she felt until it was brought up, too caught up in her own thoughts to pay attention to anything her body tried to tell her. 

she doesn’t lift her head, though she smiles at agatha’s offer. “we’re not in the same room, though,” she mumbles as a reminder (internally, yerim makes a reminder to have words with whoever was in charge of the room assignments, and had decided to keep her away from three of her closest friends). “but yeah.” a nod. “please.” part of her was praying there might, somehow, be an empty bed, allowing her to switch rooms.