Authored (60 fanfics)
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"Damn it, Kang Seulgi!" Bae Joohyun cursed, as she frantically pressed all buttons.
"I'm alone today and we match clothes, so I thought when I saw you -- why not invite you since we look like we'd be very cute as a couple?"
The life of a timid, discreet model and a strict, upright lawyer.
Bae Joohyun sees a notebook which belongs to someone who has the name 'Kang Seulgi'.
"So what brings you here, Bae Irene?" Kang Seulgi demanded for an answer, a bit too bitterly. *not angst*
"Don't you know who I am?" Bae Joohyun arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms.
For some reason, Joohyun wanted to stab a certain blond.
The three types of convenience stores according to Kang Seulgi.
Seulgi had always been rainbows, and sunshine, and puppies. // A SeulRene fanfic (which is not angst, sTOP BEING ANGRY WITH ME JKHDFKH)
In which Irene is having a hard time trying to keep her love life a secret from her brother.
"It's been four years, Miss Bae," Kang Seulgi greeted, as they both entered the faculty room with gifts in their arms.
If there's one person I'm avoiding in the campus, that would be Bae Irene.
She wanted to look over the kid, but a bastard won't let her.
"We're partners now, okay?"
[Rated T for language] Even though Joohyun hated Seulgi (at some point), and despite their obvious differences, Joohyun at least had the heart to comfort the crying girl in her arms.
Maybe she should just get together with the "better cousin".
Before she was Joohyun, she was Irene. And having met Seulgi, she never wants to be Irene, ever again.
A collection of SeulRene drabbles.
Joohyun just hates it when she gets seen with someone. And Seulgi isn't an exception.
We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t you think?
For all she knows, this girl kissing her right now could be a druggie, a murderer, a Trump supporter... But she was already in the moment.
[Not Angst] Oddly, her internet connection became slower these days.
Where these two idiots decided to explore a 'Haunted House'.
Bae Irene doesn't mind staying up all night with this familiar-looking stranger.
Who would've known that singing in a capella would lead someone to a confession?