#it's like taking a test but the study guide is written entirely in emojis and i dont know what the subject is

[kienium]

i have such a hard time with tone indicators still because i don't know what the fuck i mean either. how am i supposed to fake it until i make it in these conditions

[neocityarchive]

a lover’s dictionary | n.y.t.

— words from A to Z loosely defined from a lover’s perspective

genre: fluff, angst, poetic

pairing: yuta x y/n

word count: 1.7k +

warnings: bit of suggestive smut

definition guide

a/n: i wrote this on a whim. i wanted to try different writing formats so i really hope u guys like this one 🥺

inspired by david levithan’s “the lover’s dictionary”

Alexithymia (n.)

— Yuta was scared to admit to himself he was already falling in love. But as he watched you laugh a little too hard at his bad impression of Mark, the crazy, out-of-hand beating of his heart left those three words hanging on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.

Babble (v.)

— As much as the whole group chat loves to see Yuta this happy for the first time, they couldn’t help but mute their notifications after he flooded the chat with keyboard smashes and random heart emojis after he got home from your first date.

Cafuné (Portugese) (v.)

— The strands of his hair lightly tickled the spaces between your fingers as you tugged on them gently. Yuta smiled against your lips before deepening the kiss, his hands desperately trying to get rid of your ponytail and every other article of your clothing.

Debunk (v.)

— Your friends didn’t trust Yuta at first. They seemed to believe he will be just like everyone else who dated you before him: gone when they’ve taken what they could.

“Did you believe them then?” he asked when you told him about it.

You couldn’t answer. You just shrugged. Part of you used to be worried they were right. But Yuta didn’t need your words to know what you think.

“Do you still believe them?” He looked at you, barely masking his hurt expression.

You shook your head immediately. “You’ve proved them wrong every step of the way.”

Eccedentesiast (n.)

— “Hyung,” Doyoung said, surprised when he opened the door to see Yuta on a Sunday morning. Everyone knows his Sunday mornings are for you. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing. Can I crash here?” He entered Doyoung’s apartment without waiting for his permission. “I’ve been up all night.”

“Sure, but are you okay?” the younger asked.

“Of course.” Yuta smiled but his chest felt like it was being ripped apart at the seams. His head was pounding from the headache of having drank a few bottles too many last night. He never liked being in a fight, especially with you. It rarely happens, but it always makes him question everything about himself.

Fika (Swedish) (n.)

— After a long and hectic week, you and Yuta decided to just stay at home and cuddle all day. At 4 PM after watching all the movies on your watch later list, he proceeds to pepper you with soft kisses, muttering I love yous in between your giggles.

Guffaw (v.)

— Yuta’s laughter can be heard from the other side of the hall, strangely sounding like that of a Disney villain. He clutched his stomach, eyes disappearing as he watched you ask a stranger for some change after losing on a bet with him.

Happiness (n.)

— It’s all those moments between waking up and going to sleep, such as when Yuta leans over to the passenger’s seat to peck you on the lips before the stop light turns green again or when he brings you your favorite doughnut when you’ve got too much work on your hands.

Interstice (n.)

— You reached out to the space on the couch beside you, expecting to find Yuta’s hand waiting to be intertwined with yours, before remembering you decided to take a break on your relationship after he walked out on you a few days back.

Jouska (n.)

— “Move in with me,” Yuta rehearsed in front of the mirror for the hundredth time that day. He shook his head, still not satisfied with how he said it.

“Y/N, please move in with me,” he said again, his mind thinking about all your possible reactions. Would you say yes? Would you say no?

“Do you wanna move in with me,” he tried once more, almost giving up on himself.

“Y/N, move in with me?”

“Okay.”

Yuta jumped, not realizing you’ve been watching him for the past two minutes, laughing to yourself as you watched his silly antics.

Koi no yokan (Japanese) (n.)

— Yuta was a stranger to you before he was anything else. The coffee shop was too crowded on the day you met. He needed a place to sit as he waited for his friend, and you happened to have an extra seat on your table.

He told you he didn’t usually talk to strangers, but you were crying that day and he couldn’t help but ask if you were okay. You said yes, but the book you were reading is killing you inside.

He laughed, and upon glancing at the book in your hand, said, “If it helps, that book killed me inside, too.” He flashed a smile. That perfect smile. “I’m Yuta.”

“Y/N,” you replied.

It was a normal conversation with a random stranger, and yet, at that moment, you couldn’t help but think he’s gonna break my heart someday.

Lacuna (n.)

— It wasn’t your physical absence that made this whole cool-off thing hurt, Yuta thought. It was the Y/N-shaped hole in his chest that he had no idea how to fill up.

Maybe (adv.)

— A vague answer. A not-so-safe response;

“Do you think it’ll rain tonight?” he asked one rainy afternoon.

“Maybe,” you answered.

“Do you think it’ll be us til the end?” he asked a little while later.

“Maybe,” you replied.

Night (n.)

— These are the hours where Yuta would either hold you close or push you to your edge.

Oblivious (adj.)

— Before you started dating, everyone but you and Yuta knew that you were whipped for each other. When you two broke up, everyone but you two knew you were still whipped for each other.

Procrastinate (v.)

— It’s those extra five minutes of cuddling that Yuta begs for every morning, making you miss the bus to work. But it’s also those hour-long make out sessions that makes you two late for your dinner reservations at night.

Quibble (v.)

— “That’s not the point!” You were already raising your voice, unable to control your emotions. It was 2AM and Yuta just got home from god knows where without so much as texting you.

“There is no point. I’m already here, Y/N. What more do you want?!” He was drunk. Not so drunk that he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but enough to let his guard down and say things he didn’t really mean.

For a moment, his legs became shaky, making him lose balance. He leaned against the kitchen counter for support. But as mad as you were, you were still concerned about him.

“I want you to stop acting like there’s no one who gets worried about you. Why do you always have to be so reckless?” you snapped, helping him steady himself.

But Yuta moved away from you. “You’re not my mother. Hell, my own mother doesn’t even care about me. So stop acting like you have control over everything in my life.”

He was drunk, but sober enough to recognize the pained expression on your face. It was only then that he realized had crossed the line.

Right (adj.)

— It includes everything from the way Yuta touches you to the way your name drips from his tongue like honey.

Sunday (n.)

— It doesn’t matter what went on during the week. Your Sundays were Yuta’s, and Yuta’s were yours. It’s the day of walking up short mountain trails or discovering new restaurants or skinny dipping in lakes or even just staying at your apartment to binge watch Netflix. It doesn’t matter where your mood will take you as long as your Sundays are for each other.

Tacenda (n.)

— “I’m sorry,” Yuta muttered as soon as you opened the door. “I know you’re right. It’s my fault. Let’s just–“ he swallowed. “Please, let’s fix this.”

That was all it took to have you break down in front of him. You’ve only broken up for three days, but it was three days too many.

Yuta took a step closer, still testing the waters if he could put his arms around you. When you didn’t move away, he pulled you in his embrace. Your entire body melted into his arms, your face buried in his chest, your arms almost subconsciously wrapping around his torso.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice as fragile as you were.

“You don’t have to say anything anymore,” you said in between sobs. “Just please don’t walk out on me again.”

A tear slipped from Yuta’s eye. “I’m sorry.”

Umpteen (adj.)

—You could no longer count the number of times Yuta has said “I love you,” but weirdly enough, it makes you feel the same way every time.

Vandalism (n.)

— When you opened the book you borrowed from the university library, there was a small note written in the corner of the page you bookmarked: “I can’t wait to kiss you senseless again when you’re done with all this studying.”

Your cheeks blushed as your eyes scanned through Yuta’s handwriting once again. You closed the book and looked around, hoping no one saw how your boyfriend defaced school property to send you a flirty note.

Whiskey (n.)

—“No,” Yuta said firmly. “The last time you had a shot of that, I had to physically stop you from stripping while standing in Taeyong’s dining table in front of everybody.”

“But–”

“No.”

X (n.)

— You couldn’t help it. Your nails drew crosses on Yuta’s bare back as he softly grunts your name.

You (pron.)

— “Mine,” Yuta whispered in your ear before kissing you goodnight.

Zing (n.)

— The feeling you get when Yuta’s fingertips graze above every inch of your skin, your chest rising up and down heavily in anticipation.

[jihyosforehead]

can we pls have dubchaetzu fluff please

i like how super polite u were and said please twice omg absolute cutie uwuuu (also im so sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for 72 years)

…

“hey dude, did you need to grab any food?”

chaeyoung looks up from her laptop to peer at nayeon.

“what?” chaeyoung asks, sheepishly.

“i asked if you needed to buy any food. you know, from the line?” she says patiently. she throws a hand behind her, and chaeyoung’s eyes follow the movement; jeongyeon and momo are waving so frantically at them that they’ve begun to cause a scene.

“nah, i brought something from home. it’s leftovers day,” chaeyoung tells her with a bright grin, happiness coating her voice. nayeon is completely unable to help herself from patting chaeyoung’s head affectionately. she leaves with a final head pat, storming over to grab momo from backing into a group of bystanders.

chaeyoung pulls out her lunchbox from her bag and a small blue post-it note flutters down to rest on the table in the most dramatic way possible. black ink lettering the paper in careful, delicate strokes.

chaeyoungie,

i think you’re eggcellent :)

there’s a drawing of three eggs in a sizzling frying pan with smiley faces.

a goofy grin creeps across her face and doesn’t leave even when she’s home in bed, staring at the ceiling.

…

dahyun sighs heavily. she was so run down from assignments and homework. there was a six page essay about like? space or something? a group assignment about pollution. and her personal favourite: studying for the end of unit chemistry test. but for now. dahyun is going to eat some lunch.

sana and mina are sitting across from her chatting. or flirting. who knows with these two sometimes. dahyun is eating in peace. dahyun is chewing. dahyun is enjoying her chicken. dahyun is not thinking about homework -

“what’s that, dahyunnie?” sana asks suddenly, ending her train of thought. dahyun looks up at her mid-chew, making a confused noise.

sana snatches a blue post-it note at dahyun’s elbow and her eyes scan over it quickly and then holds it to her chest and sighs theatrically. mina shaking her head exasperatedly before handing the note over.

dahyunnie,

all you knead is love.

under it, is a drawing of a bag of flour kneading a ball of dough.

dahyun somehow powers through her study guide and gets started on the essay.

…

saturday morning finds chaeyoung two hours into an eight hour shift at the local music shop. it’s been a really hectic day, an almost unending stream of customers keeping her occupied since opening.

“excuse me do you have this poster in stock?” “well, can you check in the back?” “why don’t you carry one direction vinyls?” “by the way, someone knocked down the display stand with all the christmas CDs. yeah i didn’t see.”

she barely had a second to breathe. and plus her co-worker had called in late so now chaeyoung was behind on inventory.

but.

it’s leftovers day again and chaeyoung is looking forward to her ham and cheese sandwich. but mostly she’s interested in the strawberry tart she’s going to eat for dessert. there’s another blue post-it note, this time it’s stuck to her apple.

chaeyoung grins widely at the familiar careful, black lettering.

chaengie!

i’m soy into you. :D

there’s a carefully drawn piece of sushi and a bottle of soy sauce directly under it.

chaeyoung feels her day immediately brighten, warmth tightening across her heart. a shitty customer isn’t a match for a truly solid pun.

…

there isn’t really a word to describe how much dahyun detested group assignments. her team members had all conveniently forgotten to email their drafts by the agreed on date.

“dahyun i’m sorry, i just haven’t had time” “i totally forgot about that my bad” “i had practice all week!”

and now. they were running behind. (not really).

but they were running behind according to dahyun’s very well put together, well-crafted, truly excellent planning board! (they were two days behind). she’d have to completely overhaul it and adjust everything.

(the assignment wasn’t due for another two weeks).

dahyun slumped in her uncomfortable plastic chair, pretending not to look put off by how animatedly her group members discussing something completely irrelevant over their uneaten lunch. she pulls out her juice-box with a huff, stabbing the straw in aggressively. she yanks out her cutlery and a blue post-it note floats out gently behind it. dahyun snatches it out of the air, brows furrowed.

dubu!!

i lava you!

there’s a picture of a volcano with red lava spilling from the top to form a heart. dahyun feels her frustration leave, warm affection in its place. okay so maybe, she could probably loosen up her deadlines. maybe.

dahyun’s definitely seen this pun. it has chaeyoung written all over it. 

…

chaeyoung’s perched at the edge of her seat, munching absentmindedly on carrot stick, occasionally dipping it into an unidentifiable sauce. it tasted vaguely like mayonnaise and pickles but it was kind of good so she’s not really going to question what’s in it. instead she’s typing rapidly at her laptop, sighing every few minutes.

she was so so so behind on the written section of her portfolio. she’s not really sure why she left it last minute knowing full well she had a whole twenty pages of her own work to analyse. she chews more aggressively at her carrot sticks.

jihyo pokes at her shoulder. hard.

“you have to relax.”

“i can’t!” chaeyoung tells her, obscurely aware that she sounded very panicked, “i have so many words to shit out! and so few minutes to shit them out in!!”

jihyo gives her a deeply unamused smile. chaeyoung can’t find in her to care that she’s cursed in front of her mother.

“you’ll be fine,” jihyo says, firmly. “when’s it due anyway?”

“in two days!”

“you’ll be fine.” jihyo says, sounding completely unconvincing. chaeyoung leans back in her chair and stares at the ceiling. “here, eat something.”

she’s digging in chaeyoung’s bag and then holds out a banana and a neatly packaged container of salad. there’s a blue post-it note stuck to the lid.

chaeng

i’m always thinking a bao you :P

there’s a picture of three baos, lined up in a row, with tiny pink hearts between each one. jihyo’s lips are twitching into a smile at chaeyoung’s enamoured expression. chaeyoung thinks dahyun’s really outdone herself this time.

(chaeyoung hands in her portfolio in on time and also gets a 97%).

…

dahyun’s aware of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. she’s in the bathroom, back against the door, breathing heavily. like she’s escaped a murderer or something. She catches her reflection in the mirror and her hair is sticking up in sixteen different directions, she’s got a weird green stain on her collar and she’s holding a bar of chocolate protectively against her chest.

she’s locked herself in a room away from screaming children. okay. so the children were her cousins. but. they were screaming and she needed a break. there were only so many times she could watch the elmo’s world theme song on repeat. it’s ingrained so deeply in her brain that if aliens kidnapped her and wiped her memory completely, she’s sure that the elmo song would still be embedded in there somewhere. like a sesame street sleeper agent.

and also she wanted to eat her chocolate in secret. if she’d learnt anything, is that kids take the sharing lesson very seriously. especially when it comes to chocolate. especially when it comes to dahyun not sharing her chocolate. there’s a blue post-it note stuck to the back of the packaging.

dubuuu !

you always make me hap-pea :o

there’s a drawing of three peas in a pod and an almost ridiculous amount of emoji faces surrounding the picture. dahyun feels her heart swell at least three sizes. the kids are somehow easier to face.

…

tzuyu watches chaeyoung stick another blue post-it note into her journal, gluing it down to the page carefully, tongue sticking out in concentration. she tries not to notice the intensely deep affection warm her entire body when she notices that the entire page are those post-it puns she’s been giving secretly. chaeyoung’s filling in the blank spaces, seemingly at random with pops of purple and green and little drawings of cookies and yoda.

dahyun is tilting her head to one side, blonde hair falling down her back with her movements; kind of like a puppy, tzuyu thinks, her nose scrunching up at how adorable the sight is. and she tries not to notice the affection grow when dahyun holds both hands up, her index fingers and thumbs forming an L-shape, lips jutted out dramatically, one eye closed, she’s crouching on the floor.

dahyun’s spent the whole afternoon rearranging her blue post-it note collection, and blue-tacking her favourites to her wall.

tzuyu’s aware that dahyun thinks chaeyoung’s been giving her the post-its. and vice versa.

(but she’s completely unaware that dahyun and chaeyoung have known it was her from the second a dopey, proud smile crossed her face when they first showed her their post-it notes.)

they think tzuyu’s proud, dopey smile is their new favourite thing.

right up there with tzuyu’s heart.