jihyun facts


JuminV Week - Day 7 | Spring

For @juminvweek

I TRIED TO BE AESTHETIC OK– Lets end the juminv week with some bittersweet moment shall we because that is what this relationship all about anyway- //slapped Ahhh finally done- Not like what I expect it to be but I am just super tired and I really want to complete this event so–
Damn the week is over and so my life 

Thank you to the wonderful mods, Honestly I love all the prompt, its well picked and choosen //yes
I am happy to be able to complete this, and I hope by the time the next JuminV week I am still in the fandom to angst once more

But but juminzen week is comingggg and I am still considering whether to join or not hhfhfhfhf

Nothing to look forward anymore but in case you guys havent see my previous submission, link is down below~ wwww

presented without comment

[MM Chat Edits template by @zentherainbowunicorn]

honestly the more i think about it the more i love jumin/v like

  • childhood friends to lovers trope fuck yeah
  • mutual trust and friendship (even when v’s actin shady af jumin’s faith in him never seems to waver)
  • they know each other well and accept each other’s flaws
  • jumin is so serious n straight laced and v is the biggest hipster art hoe like honestly cutest relationship dynamic
  • v is one of the few people who jumin allows to see him for who he truly is 
  • see and treat each other as equals, no power imbalance  
  • speaking of which, bedroom stuff (this stuff is all assuming that thru some miracle v’s previous relationship has ended)

(lol looking back, this got more headcanony than the straightforward, fact-based post that i had intended it to be so the rest is under a cut whoops)

Keep reading

polaroids | juminvweek day 1


this fic was written for @juminvweek, but I’m only posting the first chapter as a one-shot because the rest of the story ended up straying from the event guidelines. You can read the whole story on AO3 (to be announced). Thank you for reading!

Rich boys rarely have a choice of ties to wear, even when your private school didn’t assign a mandatory, uniformed neck tie… or so Jumin thought as his mother once again talked on and on about a cute, patterned tie she bought just for him – a very expensive brand sure to make its owner stand out  – that she would love to see him wear for his first day in “a big boy’s international” school. She only stopped talking and fussing over him when his father kissed her good morning.

She also didn’t notice that Jumin had his nanny put on his favorite striped tie, so that was a small victory for him.

His father, hair dyed black even though he only had two or three grey hairs to hide, called him to put on his shoes and get ready to leave for school; their driver had finally arrived, and Jumin wasn’t to be late for his first day. He gave his mother a peck on the cheek goodbye and stepped outside his house, bag on his shoulders, when he heard a bell – a bicycle? – ring, and a voice call from outside their driveway, “Jumin!”

“Who’s that, son?” asked his father, looking around the large driveway before spotting, with a laugh, “My, it’s Jihyun, Mr. Kim’s from Sunday school. You know Mr. Kim’s son, don’t you?”

Jihyun from Sunday school was more than just a boy Jumin happened to meet years ago at church. Jumin did, in fact, remember Jihyun Kim. He was the beautifully blue haired, teal eyed boy who had been trying to calm his crying little sister, their voices too quiet to draw anybody’s attention. Jumin had given her his lollipop (a gift from the Sunday school teacher, even though Jumin didn’t like lollipops compared to, say, strawberry taffy) in an attempt to cheer her up. It was a simple act on Jumin’s part which he didn’t find particularly life changing, but after that Sunday, it seemed that whenever Jumin went to church, he would spot those light blue curls standing beside his sister both waving at him, quickly becoming a sight Jumin unconsciously expected during every Sunday school. They didn’t get to meet every week, but their chance meetings were frequent enough that Jumin began saying hello to him back and sit together in Sunday school since the beginning of this year.

That was why the thought of Jihyun Kim actually coming to see Jumin before school sounded a bit too good to be true. Jihyun hadn’t even written him all summer long, nor did he ever call his home phone either – not that Jumin expected him to. During the times he and Jihyun interacted, the boy was quiet and shy. Not much different from himself, but this sudden visit was a nice change. So Jumin ran out to get a better view of Jihyun, to see if it really was him and his father wasn’t lying to him – and luckily, Jihyun braked just in time to avoid crashing into him.

“What’re you doing here?” Jumin asked as Jihyun stared at him wide-eyed – he’d only just nearly trampled his friend. Jumin recalled Jihyun saying they were going to the same private school, last Sunday when they met at church. He always thought their next meeting would be in a classroom, not in his driveway like this. “Shouldn’t you be going to school?”

“I am!” he said, now smiling. “I’m taking you with me on this cool bike my mom and dad got – but… oh. You’re going with your father, aren’t you?”

Jihyun glanced back at the spotless limo still partially parked in front of Jumin’s garage and the man standing beside it, who was watching the two children’s exchange with a pearly white grin. Jumin looked back as well. “Father, is it alright if I go with Jihyun today?”

At first, his father gave a very stern, very serious frown before he smiled warmly once again and waved. “Who am I to stop you kids? Have fun.” At Jumin, he seemed to add as an after thought, “For your mother’s sake, please hold on to Jihyun and don’t fall off!“

Although Jumin can only see the back of Jihyun’s head, all teal curls, slightly blowing with the wind all throughout the way to school, he knew that the two of them did indeed have fun. Jihyun even complimented Jumin’s tie, saying he loved the stripes, and that alone made Jumin walk through his school hallways with pride… despite the hellish first day of school he had to endure, filled with homework and forced socializing and far too many bullies.

It only felt like yesterday that Jumin rode on the back of Jihyun’s bicycle for their first day of middle school together. Now, they’re on their final year, promising a much busier schedule than ever up ahead to prepare for their final exams.

Jumin felt that physically on his back as he shouldered his heavy bag filled with books that felt more like boulders. Jihyun never even once complained as he sat across from Jumin during lunch in the school gardens. That’s only because opening his bag revealed only a quarter of the books Jumin brought and finding instead a very packed lunchbox in place of at least three mandatory textbooks.

“I made it myself,” he told Jumin, proudly, as he showed him the contents of his lunch: two sunny side up eggs, fried rice with chicken meat and sausage mixed in, vegetables on the side, and an apple just to balance it all out. He began digging in so innocently, not feeling guilty in the slightest bit.

“My mother would’ve killed me if I ever slacked off like you,” Jumin said, eating his lesser-in-quantity lunch. “If I don’t bring all my books, my homeroom will give me detention, too. How are you still alive?”

“I’m a good and charming boy,” Jihyun said with the brightest grin Jumin had ever seen; not even his father grinned like that to his mother. His eyes practically sparkled – a charming boy, indeed. “And I always seem to get good grades anyways. Why do you think I keep getting presents at the end of each school year?”

Jumin remembered Jihyun’s bicycle, and then Jihyun’s watercolor set the year afterwards. “I wonder what they’ll get you this year,” he mused aloud.

Jihyun’s smile seemed to change – tight lipped, forced, plastered on – but Jumin didn’t point it out. That would be rude, even though Jihyun was his best friend and can handle the brutal honesty. “I wonder too.” He then shook off whatever dark cloud hovered above him and gave Jumin a grin. “Especially since we’re graduating to high school next year.”

Jumin grinned, but realised a bit too late that he desperately wished he and Jihyun could go to the same high school when the time comes.

Jihyun’s present, it turned out at the end of that school year, was a hand-me-down polaroid camera from his dad – quickly becoming outdated in the age of digital cameras that didn’t need any film for you to capture a photo, but Jihyun was excited all the same. One day in the middle of May after their exams were far behind them, Jihyun took Jumin for a ride on his bike – still able to support the two’s weight after all these years – around the neighborhood, his polaroid inside a small messenger bag he had.

“Did your parents tell you where they’re enrolling you?” Jihyun asked as he took a turn on a junction, leading them to the neighborhood park. “My parents still want me to go to our academy’s high school, mostly because they already know the arts program is good. Looking for a new high school is just a hassle.”

Jumin shrugged as Jihyun parked the bike. “I think our high school has some good social studies classes.” He got off and fixed his tie – a new one, still striped. “Maybe I can ask father if I’ll go back there, too.”

Jihyun grinned. “Then we can still see each other every day.”

“We’ll see each other every day, regardless,” Jumin stated as the two of them entered the park. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

Jihyun chuckled, already finding something off to their side that caught his attention, pointing his camera at it. “I’ll never say no to seeing you.”

Jumin liked the sound of that, just as much as he liked the sound of Jihyun’s polaroid – a loud shutter and then sliding of photo film – as he took various images of the scenery around them. He didn’t even mind when his friend took a photo of him, sneakily as you do, admiring a butterfly on the side of a bench. Jumin didn’t take long to look at the picture before asking, “Can I keep this one?”

“Sure,” Jihyun said, and then he had that expression where he had a brilliant idea and he needed to see it come to life that instant. He faced away from Jumin, moving to stand next to him, and turned the camera around. “Smile!”

The picture of them developed in a few minutes, and when Jihyun saw his blurred finger at the edge of the frame and Jumin’s confusion immortalized in the picture alongside Jihyun’s own manic grin, he laughed. “And I’ll keep this one.”

It was a summer filled with taking pictures and walking around the block just talking and talking about nothing in particular – they already knew that Jihyun’s mother finally got worldwide recognition as an artist and would probably leave Korea for a while, or that Jumin’s father had opened several new branches of C&R International that he knew Jumin would direct one day, being his father’s sole heir.

No; they talked about the sunflower Mrs. Park could never seem to nurse back to life (Jihyun photographed this when they passed by her garden), the new café opening nearby their school that they can visit after a long day, and a missing cat Jumin found – the two boys returned her quickly after Jihyun discovered where the owner lived just looking at the cat’s nametag, and spent half of their reward to grab ice cream at their favorite parlor.

The two, sharing a gigantic bowl of ice cream sundae – with Jihyun as always letting Jumin have the strawberry flavored scoops – looked over Jihyun’s photographs, picking which ones they’d want to keep respectively, and which were good enough to be framed later if Jihyun so wished.

When summer ended, and high school properly began, the two stayed true to their word; they were in the same school, and would see each other every day. Although they weren’t in the same classes, they at least ate lunch together, and went home in the back of Jumin’s limo – since Jihyun’s bike had finally fallen to total disrepair one rainy autumn day.

It was actually during a rainy autumn day – September ninth – that Jumin thought to make up on all the lost time the two didn’t get to properly hang out ever since school started. They were cooped up inside Jihyun’s bedroom, the rain making loud pitter-patters outside his window, but not drowning out the CD playing in the background.

Jumin was on the floor, looking through some of Jihyun’s recent pictures, while the photographer himself was on his bed, lying upside down with his hair – still messy, still blue as ever – nearly touching the ground, trying to figure out the birthday present he received from his best friend.

“My dad let me borrow his SLRs before,” Jihyun said absentmindedly as he squinted, “but this one is really different from his.”

“It’s the best and most recommended one for beginners,” Jumin said, “and the lenses I got you should be good for a lot of occasions.”

“You’re the best,” his friend said with a happy sigh, “did you know that?”

In the bottom of his quire bothersome heart, Jumin knew that his best friend was indeed sincere. Yes, Jihyun was more than capable to buy his own photography equipment, but nonetheless, he was handling his gift as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Jumin turned back to the photographs – he always had his parents say he was the best son they could ever wish for, and his teachers always praised him for receiving top marks, and his maids always told him he’s a good and charming young man, but only Jihyun’s words just then truly made him smile.

“Hey, Jumin,” Jihyun finally said after a long silence.

He looked up for only just a fraction of a second before he realised what Jihyun just did, pulling away his camera from his face and peering into the viewfinder. “Did you take a photo of me?”

“When am I not taking a photo of you?” Jihyun teased as he grinned and carefully handed his best friend the camera to see the photo he captured.

“Why do you always take pictures of me?” Jumin asked, genuinely curious, as he continued to look at his face in the photograph – eyebrow raised, hair a managable level of messy, polaroids strewn in front of him, but that smile because of Jihyun captured in the business of the background. “More than you photograph other subjects, I mean.”

“I guess you’re the most constant and aesthetically pleasing subject I have,” Jihyun replied. “One day, when I’m already a few exhibitions in, I’m going to have a corner in my gallery titled…” Jihyun closed his eyes, a hand on his chin, the elbow supported on an arm crossed against his chest. “The Tale of Two Privileged Boys: Best Friends.”

“You’re just teasing me,” Jumin said with a pout, though it was more of a statement than it was an accusation.

Jihyun laughed. Jumin pouted less. “No. I’m truly serious. Maybe not the privileged boys part.” He ran a hand through his bangs, messing it up before continuing. “This friendship we have, Jumin, is something I want to preserve, and make part of my gallery. Including you. Especially you.”



Jumin didn’t blush – that’d look ridiculous, especially if Jihyun had the camera in his hands and could immortalize that moment like he did with Jumin’s smile – but he did try to distract himself from thinking about Jihyun’s words too much and tried the camera out himself. He pointed it to Jihyun, upside down as he was, who gave Jumin a silly grin and a peace sign besides.

The photo turned out very out of focus, but that’s because Jumin was horrible at taking pictures, and not because he was nervous or flustered at all. Definitely not because of that.


another step, one more breath – “jihyun! you missed your last count.” the words come in a quick snap before a sigh falls from the same breath, jihyun knows he’s agitated but somehow there’s a form of understanding rolling across aged features and suddenly he’s nodding. “it’s okay, it’ll have to do for now – let’s just bring in the guys and put it together?” she nodded, slowly lowering her arms to her sides as she let out a deep breath. it wasn’t an unknown fact that jihyun had improved in dancing but that didn’t mean she didn’t still suck at it – she was better, but improvement was always an ideal path in their line of work and jihyun obviously still had tracks to follow rather than spare steps like the others around her. it didn’t help that with the added work of the drama, it took out of her time to further practice whatever dance lessons she could pick up on in her spare time. but it was also no use trudging around regretful of it, nothing would come of that – so with another heavy breath, jihyun sighed, looking around the room to see hongbin bounding in, mister smiling wide, dimples that everyone could just drown in, that hongbin had arrived and jihyun wasn’t feeling so alone because suddenly someone she knew was there.

“hongbin!” and now she’s the one who’s all smiles, wide as an arc, with eyes cut into crescents, her own more-subtly embedded dimples softening into cherub flesh. her finger pokes his bicep, a foolish grin appearing over the genuine curve of pink petals. “hongbin? is that you – there’s something different,” she says with a ligth tap of her fingertip to her cheek, eyes accented in worrisome curiosity. “is your smile bigger? are you that happy to see me?” a laugh falls habitually from wide tiers, her voice soft as she speaks before she pauses and points at her own smile. “see this smile? it’s how happy i am to see you.”