lgcjaejin

[lgcjaejin]

☆ — TALES OF A TURTLE TEACHER.

The One Where Jaejin Becomes Known as the "Turtle Teacher"

Jaejin brushed his hands on his jeans, glancing around the whirlwind of activity in the youth center. The morning sunlight spilled through wide windows, illuminating a room alive with motion and noise. Kids zoomed past him in bursts of laughter, their sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. Volunteers and staff members were scattered throughout, some kneeling on mats to supervise games, others flipping through picture books with small groups of children. It was vibrant, chaotic, and a little overwhelming—but Jaejin couldn’t deny the warmth he felt being part of it all.

His first task of the day had been storytime. Armed with a battered picture book about a talking turtle and its animal friends, Jaejin had settled onto a stool that was comically too small for him. At first, he worried he wouldn’t hold their attention—kids could be tough critics, after all. But the moment he started giving each character a unique voice, they were hooked. His exaggerated impressions of a cranky turtle and a hyper squirrel were met with shrieks of laughter, and he couldn’t help but grin at their enthusiasm.

One boy, practically doubled over from laughing, had to be reminded not to roll around on the floor. Meanwhile, a mischievous girl sitting in the back had decided to turn storytime into her own game—hurling crumpled paper balls at Jaejin when she thought he wasn’t looking. When he finally caught her mid-throw, he gasped in mock betrayal, which only fueled her giggles and her next attempt. By the time the story ended, the kids had dubbed him "Turtle Teacher," a name that seemed to spark just as much amusement among the staff as it did with the kids.

But it wasn’t just the laughter that stayed with him. Between the jokes and the playful chaos, Jaejin noticed how earnestly the kids sought attention and connection. They tugged on his sleeve to show off their colorful drawings, peppered him with questions about the story, and eagerly pulled him into their games. Their openness was disarming, their energy contagious. It reminded him of his younger self, always eager for someone to notice him, to listen, to care.

As the morning came to an end, Jaejin felt a surprising sense of fulfillment. He’d come here to help, but maybe he’d gained something too—a little perspective and maybe even a little hope

[lgcjaejin]

Jaejin stepped back, hands resting casually on his hips, as he craned his neck to get a better view of Seyoon scrambling around in the branches like some overenthusiastic wildlife documentary host. He couldn’t stop the amused smirk tugging at his lips when Seyoon’s dramatic plea reached his ears.

“Don’t worry,” Jaejin called up, his voice laced with teasing. “I’ve got it all planned out—big, tasteful funeral. Orchids, maybe lilies. And the perfect plaque: ‘Here lies Seyoon: brave, slightly unhinged, and tragically betrayed by coins that didn’t exist. But hey, at least he believed.’”

He watched as Seyoon fumbled with the branches, his movements a chaotic mix of determination and sheer stubbornness. When the inevitable moment came—no coins to be found—Jaejin had to stifle a laugh. Seyoon’s exaggerated whining was comedy gold.

“Oh, your senses tingled, did they?” Jaejin shot up an eyebrow, his tone mock-serious. “Maybe next time, listen to the sense that tells you not to climb trees on a hunch.”

Just as he was starting to enjoy himself, Seyoon perked up, pointing excitedly toward a bush in the distance. Jaejin followed his line of sight, already feeling the resignation settle in. “Of course. I’m the lucky one who gets to fetch the mystical bush coins while you… perfect your bird impersonation up there.”

He started toward the bush but turned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “By the way,” he called over his shoulder, “you’ve got a whole bird’s nest vibe going on with your hair now. Really ties the look together. Might as well lean into it—nature documentary star in the making.”

Jaejin was starting to wonder if he’d just been wasting his time. He’d combed nearly every inch of this place—checked under benches, in pottery stalls, even behind some old scarecrow display—and still, not a single coin. What genius hid these?

Just as he was about to move to another area, he heard a voice calling his name. He looked around, then up—and there was Seyoon, perched halfway up a tree, looking ridiculously comfortable for someone who’d chosen to play hide-and-seek with gravity.

Jaejin blinked, squinting. Was he serious? Of all places, he’d thought coins might be hidden in the branches?

“Seyoon,” Jaejin called, a grin creeping onto his face. “Is this a new strategy or just… boredom?” He crossed his arms, genuinely amused by the whole scene. “You really think someone’s gonna climb all the way up there to hide a coin?”

Seyoon’s response was as enthusiastic as ever, something about his “senses tingling.” Jaejin shook his head, chuckling. This guy. They hadn’t had much time to talk on Team Unknown, but from what he could tell, Seyoon was always this… out there. And, oddly enough, Jaejin liked that about him.

Jaejin moved a bit closer, shading his eyes as if he were helping, though he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “Alright, alright, I’ll spot you—just try not to bring the whole tree down.”

“If you actually find a coin up there, I’ll be seriously impressed,” he said, grinning. “But if you don’t, maybe next time we try looking somewhere a bit… closer to the ground?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking.

[lgcjaejin]

☆ — ET TU, JAEJIN?

Featuring Jaejin searching for a card .

The cold wind bit at Jaejin’s exposed skin as he trudged through the company courtyard, clutching a half-eaten banana in one hand and his cardboard surfboard in the other. The shredded shorts and tank top of his Funky Kong costume weren’t doing him any favors in this weather. He hugged his arms to his chest, shivering as his breath fogged up the air in front of him. A jacket felt like a distant dream—one he cursed himself for not considering earlier. “Stupid commitment to the look,” he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the ground for any sign of a card.

Word of the mysterious cards had spread like wildfire, and curiosity had drawn him out here, despite the biting cold. White bunny stickers had been spotted nearby earlier in the evening, so he figured this was as good a place as any to look. His sandals crunched against frost-covered leaves as he bent down, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He wasn’t even sure why he cared about the cards, but something about the cryptic game had hooked him. Maybe it was the distraction from how miserable he felt in the weather—or maybe it was just the faint hope that finding one might lead to something warmer than this banana.

Finally, a flash of red caught his eye tucked deep in a bush. He dropped the surfboard to retrieve it, his fingers slightly trembling as he picked up the card. It was a Queen of Hearts, but instead of a regal figure, the words "OPEN ME" were scrawled across the center in bold letters. His heart raced a little, not from exertion but from a mix of anticipation and unease. “Alright, card,” he whispered, licking his lips - slightly cracked from the cold. “You better lead me to something good—or at least a warm jacket,” he muttered, his teeth chattering as he stuffed the card in his pocket

[lgcjaejin]

☆ —JAEJIN AS FUNKY KONG

Featuring Jaejin in a tank top and some shorts in 40-degree weather.

Jaejin chose Funky Kong as his costume because of his love for Donkey Kong, but the idea of wearing that little amount of clothes had him feeling a bit self-conscious.

Digging through his closet, he found a white tank top he rarely wore, deciding it was perfect once it had a slightly worn-in look.

he almost skipped The red bandanna but was able to borrow one from a fellow trainee.

The sunglasses were a last-minute addition—he grabbed the most reflective pair he owned, feeling they gave off the right Funky Kong vibe.

The white tank top and shredded shorts left more of him exposed than he was used to, and he wondered if people would find it silly.

He got creative with a cardboard box, cutting and painting it to make a surfboard. It took a couple of tries, and the lettering didn’t come out perfectly, but it added to the charm.

At the grocery store, Jaejin picked out a bunch of bananas, carefully tying them together with string, planning to hand them out at the party.

He spent the day before the party searching old surfer lingo and saying the lines in a playful surfer accent, his favorite phrase were “Stay groovy, dude!” and “Totally gnarly!” 

Jaejin hadn’t fully thought through how cold it would be in a tank top and shorts during winter, but he stubbornly stuck with the costume.

The moment he stepped outside to head to the party, a sharp gust of wind hit him, and he instantly regretted not layering up.

At the party, he carried the cardboard surfboard under one arm and the bananas in the other, and made sure he was in character at all times.

he slipped into character immediately, using exaggerated surfer phrases like, “What’s up, my chill compadres?” while handing out bananas. Still, he caught himself glancing around, wondering if anyone thought the outfit was good.

He‘d offer a banana to any random guests who came into his view, 

He kept subtly gravitating toward any source of heat—standing near a space heater, lingering by the kitchen where it was warmer, and even hovering awkwardly near people wearing cozy costumes.

“Chill vibes only, dude” he joked through chattering teeth whenever someone pointed out his shivering.

By the end of the night, he was hoarse from staying in character, a little cold, and still a bit unsure if he pulled it off.

[lgcjaejin]

@LGCENT just posted a photo!

“Cold air, warm vibes, and my favorite denim jacket—ready for sweater weather. #ChillyDays #JeanJacketsForever”

#lgctrainees #lgcent #carterjaejin

[lgcjaejin]

☆ —Team Unknown Final Interview

in which Jaejin tries to convince a mostly silent man he's ready to debut.

The meeting room was quiet, the soft ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound breaking the silence. Jaejin sat across from Coach Insung, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, trying his best to keep his composure. The room was simple—just a large table between them, a single chair facing him. It felt like any other meeting, but today, everything seemed heavier. His heart raced as he prepared to speak. This was the moment that could change everything.

When Insung asked him to reflect on the past five weeks, Jaejin took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “The hardest part,” he began carefully, “was the acting classes. It’s something so new to me. Acting requires a different kind of vulnerability. I had to open myself up in ways that didn’t come naturally. It’s hard to let go of that control, to not just rely on what I know. But I’ve learned that to grow, I have to be open to new experiences, even if they’re uncomfortable. It’s part of the process, and as hard as it was - I embraced it.”

Jaejin looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts. When he met Insung’s gaze again, there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. “The easiest part? Learning the songs and vocals. I’ve always considered myself a strong singer, and picking up a song, breaking it down, and making it my own—comes easily. I consider myself a fast learner. Some people take weeks to get it right, but I can nail it in a few days.”

What could he bring to the team? JAejin paused, his expression thoughtful as Insung’s question lingered in his mind. After a brief moment of hesitation, he answered, almost as if thinking aloud. “I bring my voice,” he said, quietly at first, “and my tenacity. I’m the one who’ll keep pushing, even when things get hard. I’ll fight and I won’t stop.” He pauses before continuing "“These five weeks have taught me a lot about myself. I’ve learned that I don’t back down. When things got tough, or when I felt exhausted, I kept going. I don’t give up" He stopped speaking, lost in thought for a moment, then added, almost as an afterthought, “And I’m a strong team player. It’s not just about standing out alone - it's about fitting in and blending with a team. I think I proved I can do that, too.” Even as he said it, Jaejin felt a twinge of doubt, but he quickly pushed it aside. If this process had taught him anything, it was that he worked better by himself. But, if he wanted to debut, he knew being a "team player" was expected of him. That was something he would worry about in the future.

The silence in the room lingered for a moment, but Jaejin shifted, his expression tightening slightly when Insung asked about his future goals.“I want to debut, Coach,” he said with a soft but unwavering voice, as if reaffirming his own resolve. “That’s all I’ve been working toward. I’ve given everything for this, and I’m not going to stop until I get there. Beyond debut… I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. But when I debut, I’ll figure it out. I always do.” His jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on Insung. “I’ve worked too hard to get here. I’m not going to let it slip away.”

[lgcjaejin]

young (fall) boys.

Jaejin glances at Junkyu as he stretches, the question hanging in the air for a moment. He shifts uncomfortably before answering, his voice a little sharper than intended. "No, I don’t usually practice with other people," he admits, a slight edge to his tone. "I work better alone." There's a flicker of something more behind his words, a quiet defensiveness that’s hard to ignore. The thought of relying on someone else, or even slowing down to match someone else’s pace doesn’t sit well with him. He can’t afford to waste time on distractions, especially not now. Not when he's so close.

He hesitates when Junkyu beckons for him to sit down, eyeing him for a moment before slowly sliding down to sit beside him, but there’s a palpable distance in the way he sits, his posture stiff and all too rigid. He listens skeptically, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as Junkyu opens up. But as the male speaks a sense of unease creeps up his spine, the words hitting closer to home than he expected. Everything Junkyu says about the long hours, the pushing, the sacrifices. It’s all too familiar—too close to the relentless grind that Jaejin’s been on for so long. Too much like what he’s been doing—what he’s been forced to do in his mind.

he sits an listens in silence, his gaze unfocused as Junkyu continues, the words settling heavy in the air between them. What happens after debut? The question echoes in his mind, a question he hasn’t let himself think about before. He’s been so consumed with the singular goal of debuting, the hunger to prove himself, to get his chance, that he hasn’t even considered what comes next. It’s always been the end goal, the thing that would change everything. But now, in this moment, he realizes Junkyu’s right. There is more beyond that—something he hadn’t allowed himself to envision because the idea of slowing down or thinking past the debut seemed like a luxury he couldn’t afford.

But now, as Junkyu talks about taking care of himself, about not burning out, something inside of him stirs. The words feel like a warning, like a mirror, and Jaejin’s chest tightens. It’s too much—too close to the fear that he’s been pushing down. He’s been running so hard, so relentlessly, that he hasn’t stopped to think about whether he’s losing himself in the process. He feels a rising frustration—how could Junkyu understand? He’s not like him. Junkyu had debuted twice, had a second chance, something Jaejin could'nt even dream of . Junkyu had already been on stage, had the validation of being seen. He had been chosen to debut a second time before Jaejin even had his first shot. Jaejin was just existing in the background, fading into the shadows. The idea of slowing down—taking a break—felt alien. He couldn’t even allow himself the luxury of thinking like that, not when he was still struggling to even get there.

"I’m not like you," Jaejin finally says, his voice tight, almost dismissive, as if he could push the other’s words away with his own. "I won’t need a second chance, and I’m not gonna burn out. If I don’t push myself now, how will…" He trails off, the weight of his own words hanging in the air, bitter and unfinished. He turns away, unable to shake the feeling that Junkyu’s words are too close to the truth—too close to a reality he’s been desperately trying to avoid. His jaw clenches as he adds, almost under his breath, "I’m sorry that was your experience but I'm doing just fine"

even just from the initial glance junkyu sent at jaejin, he could tell there was a sense of burning beneath him. it didn't take a genius to know, but then again, junkyu was someone who was reserved, more quiet than others and kept his struggles and worries mostly to himself, and had aced the whole 'knowing something was up' with someone just by a simple observing glance. though admittedly, he had gotten a lot better at opening up lately, though he's sure that's come down to the knowledge that he'll be debuting in v&a, which meant he had to warm up to his future groupmates. but honestly, it was a little easier than he initially thought, he already felt a sense of relief and safety around them so far.

it had been a complete ride for junkyu since the moment he was officially welcomed as a trainee to legacy. the ups and downs, the intense moments that made him want to rip his own skin off his body and pretend to be someone else, even if it was just for a few moments, the hours, the days wrecked into practice and training to try and improve as best as he could, the days where he'd be practicing for so long, so hard that his bones, his body, his flesh felt like it would never heal from those aches. the mornings where he would wake up and feel like he simply couldn't move because of how achy he was, but he simply pushed through because he couldn't not. he didn't have the time to, he had no time to slack off.

yet with the advice from his seniors, the coaches and staff over the months and years, he used it as ways to manoeuvre into healthier ways to practice, where he wasn't wearing himself down and burning himself out. it was a long ride, a bumpy and difficult one to hold onto, but at the end of the day, the strength of his urge to debut is what pulled him through it all at the end. and that's why he's where he is today, but he has many people to thank who helped give him those nudges and strength when he most needed it.

a few months ago, junkyu was just another mere trainee trying his best at his chance to debut again, now at this moment in present, he was gearing up to join v&a and join their team officially. it was a whirlwind of surprises, but he honestly wouldn't change it for the world. as junkyu moves further into the practice room, it becomes even more apparent that jaejin was ignited in ways junkyu had seen in the past, even in himself. yeah, he saw a bit of his past self in the other and it's true that it makes his heart pang a little bit, because he remembers all of the feelings and thoughts he had back then. it wasn't the best time or way to feel, and junkyu just hopes that jaejin doesn't burn himself out completely.

he doesn't want to make assumptions, so he doesn't. instead, he just talks. "do you practice with other people often?" junkyu questions curiously as he steps closer to the mirror, setting his bag down on the floor and kneels down to pull out his bottle of water. he keeps a sporty drink in there too for those moments where he feels like he needs it, though he's not needed it much lately. probably because he's stopped continuously pushing himself in those unhealthy ways and began to take breaks when he knows he needs them. junkyu pushes himself up again and heads over to jaejin, standing beside him as he begins to do a few stretches.

the question jaejin shoots him next, is one he's heard before, but it feels different this time. for a variety of reasons. his eyebrows shoot up slightly, and he thinks about how to answer in a way where he's not unloading onto the other. so instead, junkyu decides to just take it like he's talking to a friend. he takes a deep breath and nods his head over to the mirror as he moves to slide down against the wall onto the floor. "come, sit." he pats the floor beside him before he continues. "it's not my first time debuting. i debuted a few years ago, in another group. i was there for almost a year before i decided to leave and return to being a trainee. but back then.. it was a lot." junkyu admits with hesitation to his tone. "back then, it was all i ever wanted. it was the only goal i ever had while i was a trainee, i would spent hours and hours in these rooms, practicing until i almost couldn't breathe, until my whole, entire body ached like i just got hit by a car. i'd skip meals sometimes, thinking it'd just hold me back when i could spent that time practicing instead. it wasn't healthy, but back then, i did have unhealthy habits that were actually causing me more harm and holding me back." he takes another deep breath, letting his head fall against the mirror. "you know, i see a bit of my past self in you. the moment i walked in, i could see the fire just seeping from you." he turns his head to jaejin for a few moments, looking at him. "i have more experience now, which i'm extremely thankful for. not many people get the chance to debut a first time, let alone a second time. and it's not something i take lightly, either. it's a lot to handle and deal with, there's a lot of pressure to live up to those expectations. it's not all sunshine and daisies like some people think, there's moments where it's extremely hard and days where you wonder 'am i really ready?', but there's also days where you remember that they wouldn't have given you a chance to debut if they didn't think you were ready. after i left type zero, i put my everything back into training, practicing long and hard so i felt like i was actually improving, where i could see it myself. but i did it in a healthier way, and through that, i saw my improvement a lot more than i did before."

junkyu takes a few moments, arms resting against his knees. "debuting.. it's the ultimate goal. but just because you debut, doesn't mean that's end goal. after you debut, what's your goal past that? you don't often think past that, do you? because as a trainee, your only goal is to debut. that's what you're focused on. you need other goals to aim for other than debuting, after you debut. debuting is a dream, it's the best feeling. being on stage in front of your own fans.. it's the most rewarding feeling." he pauses. "i know you didn't ask for it, but.. let me give you this advice, as a friend. as much as you want to debut.. remember to look after yourself. take the breaks when you need them, remember to eat well and stay hydrated. don't push yourself too hard all of the time. you won't improve if you're running on pure fumes, you'll notice the improvement more if you take care of yourself. but the most important piece of advice i can give you? don't lose that spark you have, don't burn yourself out. it's the worst thing that you can do to yourself in this industry. look after yourself, don't lose the passion, and have other goals past debuting."

[lgcjaejin]

☆ —Team Unknown Solo Performance

Performing Type Zero's "Good Boy Gone Bad" TW: Vomit (implied)

Jaejin’s nerves had eaten away at him for days. The anxiety was relentless, a nonstop hum in the background of his thoughts. Every minute, every second, was consumed by replaying the performance over and over until he was wound so tight, he felt like he might snap. This was the moment--his chance to prove he had the range, to show the coaches he could become whoever they needed him to be.

In the bathroom, where he had paced until the floor seemed to blur beneath him, Jaejin finally halted in front of the mirror. The minutes before his turn to perform were slipping away, but he stared at his reflection, his hands trembling as he adjusted the collar of his leather jacket. The outfit--silver-studded shoulders, ripped black jeans, a heavy chain around his neck--was meant to give him that “bad boy” edge. Yet, despite the look he’d carefully chosen, a nagging doubt crept in. Did he look like he was trying too hard? No. He couldn’t afford that thought. He leaned in, gripping the edge of the sink, his voice barely a whisper. “You’ve got this, Jaejin. They need to see the fire. This is it--the reason you’ve pushed yourself this far.”

When the time came, he took his place in front of the judges, heart hammering in his chest, so loud he thought it might drown out the music. The opening beats hit, and he launched into the routine he had practiced relentlessly. The steps were sharp and deliberate, just like the ones he had seen Type Zero execute so effortlessly. As the rhythm pulsed through him, he let the lyrics slip from his lips, his voice raw with an intensity he had practiced nightly. He had to make them believe the aggression in his tone--that he wasn’t the same person they thought they knew. Each beat needed to prove he could embody the strength they wanted: tough, untouchable. Yet his nerves clawed at him with every movement, tightening his chest with self-doubt. Still, he pressed on, forcing his voice to remain firm even as uncertainty gnawed at him. And just like that, it was over. The final note was released, the last pose struck, and he held it, chest rising and falling in sharp breaths. The tension in his body was almost visible as he stood there, hoping he had conveyed how much he wanted this opportunity. His body screamed one thing, but inside, he wasn’t sure it had been enough.

The moment he stepped off the stage, all the pressure he had held back collapsed in on him. His chest tightened again, but this time, he couldn’t stop it. He barely made it to the bathroom before his body betrayed him. Bent over, gripping the cold edge of the nearest toilet, his stomach churned violently, the tension of the last few weeks finally spilling out. He held on to the porcelain, knuckles white, as shallow breaths tore through him between the waves of nausea.

Another violent lurch, and he doubled over again, the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat, his nerves spilling out uncontrollably. Each heave echoed through the empty room, his shoulders trembling as he fought for breath, caught between the sickening waves of panic. When it finally passed, he slumped back against the stall door, chest rising and falling in slow, ragged breaths, his forehead slick with sweat. He closed his eyes, willing himself to regain control, to quiet the chaos inside.

But even as his body steadied, his mind couldn’t escape the question that loomed over him. Had all the work--the hours of preparation, the obsession with every movement--been enough to get him the shot he had longed for?

[lgcjaejin]

© 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞. do not edit/crop logo

[lgcjaejin]

Jaejin was starting to wonder if he’d just been wasting his time. He’d combed nearly every inch of this place—checked under benches, in pottery stalls, even behind some old scarecrow display—and still, not a single coin. What genius hid these?

Just as he was about to move to another area, he heard a voice calling his name. He looked around, then up—and there was Seyoon, perched halfway up a tree, looking ridiculously comfortable for someone who’d chosen to play hide-and-seek with gravity.

Jaejin blinked, squinting. Was he serious? Of all places, he’d thought coins might be hidden in the branches?

“Seyoon,” Jaejin called, a grin creeping onto his face. “Is this a new strategy or just… boredom?” He crossed his arms, genuinely amused by the whole scene. “You really think someone’s gonna climb all the way up there to hide a coin?”

Seyoon’s response was as enthusiastic as ever, something about his “senses tingling.” Jaejin shook his head, chuckling. This guy. They hadn’t had much time to talk on Team Unknown, but from what he could tell, Seyoon was always this… out there. And, oddly enough, Jaejin liked that about him.

Jaejin moved a bit closer, shading his eyes as if he were helping, though he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “Alright, alright, I’ll spot you—just try not to bring the whole tree down.”

“If you actually find a coin up there, I’ll be seriously impressed,” he said, grinning. “But if you don’t, maybe next time we try looking somewhere a bit… closer to the ground?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking.

HIDE & SEEK @lgcjaejin (fallboys ep 6-8)

Kim Seyoon was up in a tree.

Wait, what? Why?

"Jaejin! Jaejin!" A voice called persistently among the leaves. "Come spot me. I have a feeling there are coins hidden up here. My senses are tingling."

Did he know Jaejin? Not really. They were both on Team Unknown and got tossed into the Fall Boys project together, but Seyoon hadn't gotten a chance to chat the guy up. Well, this was as good of an opportunity as any to start the friendship. Seyoon loved people - especially good-looking ones - and was ready to get to know all the fine men and women of Legacy.

"Just watch me for two seconds, it's been a while since I've done this" Seyoon took hold of a branch and tested it for strength. He wanted to use it to swing himself up, so he could check if coins were stashed among the higher branches. In hindsight, this was a bit of an obscure hiding place. Chances were, none of the three team leaders would choose a hiding place this difficult because they were nice...still. Seyoon gotta follow his instincts.

[lgcjaejin]

Tracker and Plot Call

Hey everyone! With the new trimester kicking off, I’m diving back into my whirlwind muse, Jaejin, and I’d love to expand on his journey. If your muse is up for a friendship (or maybe something more?), hit me up! My guy could really use some distractions to keep him out of his own head, so feel free to drop an emoji for a random starter or like this post for plotting. I’d love to explore some fresh dynamics, from new connections to old ties, and even some tense interactions. —anything goes!

࿐ ࿔Thread Tracker

Event Tracker

Lgc Fall Boys ACTIVITIES: @seyoonlgc - writing starter PREPARATION: @lgcjunkyu - waiting for reply REFLECTION: complete

Team Unknown 006 SOLO PERFORMANCE: complete FINAL MEETING: in progress

Trainee Mission 019 if anyone is looking for a male vocalist for a duo or group, let me know <3 VOLUNTEER: (OPEN) could be you ... *Hint Hint nudge*

Non-Event Threads

Open to any and all !

[lgcjaejin]

Jaejin sat in front of the practice room mirror, beads of sweat dotting his forehead as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Another day. Another round. Days had blurred into nights in this room—repeating the same choreography until his muscles burned and the moves felt like second nature. But he wasn’t going for “second nature”—he was going for flawless. This wasn’t just about keeping up with the routine. This was about standing out. Every detail mattered, every angle of his body, every flick of his hand—it all had to be perfect. He needed to show the coaches that he was more than just ready. He was hungry.

As he was about to launch into another round, the door swung open. Junkyu strolled in, and just like that, Jaejin’s sharp focus wavered. Junkyu’s casual energy was something Jaejin couldn’t quite ignore. The guy seemed to just glide through everything with that easy-going aura, like the intensity didn’t get under his skin the same way it did Jaejin’s. It showed in the way he moved, too. He wiped the sweat off his brow as if he was breezing through life, while Jaejin was grinding, pushing himself harder with every step.

And that’s what got to Jaejin—the effortlessness. Deep down, he knew Junkyu worked hard. They all did. But why did it seem like everything came to Junkyu without the same gnawing strain, the same pressure? Why did it feel like Junkyu wasn’t sweating the small stuff when Jaejin was breaking himself over it?

Jaejin hesitated, his mind racing as he sized him up. Practice together? It could help, sure. But did he want it? Not really. Collaboration wasn’t the point here. Standing out was. Every second spent practicing was a second closer to being the best. And sharing that time? That wasn’t how you got ahead. But maybe… just maybe… this was an opportunity. Not to improve, but to measure. To see exactly how Junkyu stacked upp, how far apart they really were. To find the gap.

He forced a smile, nodding like the idea didn’t twist in his gut. “Yeah, sure. Practicing together could help,” he said, the words sliding out, even though they felt more like a challenge to himself than anything else. He lifted his water bottle, taking a long gulp, eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced over Junkyu again. He wasn’t a better dancer. He wasn’t a better singer. At least, not in Jaejin’s eyes. They were on the same level—or so he told himself. But now, he had the chance to prove it. To see it. To know it.

Jaejin stood up, arms stretching as he slowly made his way across the room, his movements deliberate, as if each step was setting the stage. He flashed a polite smile, positioning himself beside Junkyu. But his mind was already working overtime, thinking about how to push himself harder.

But before they could start, there was something else gnawing at him—something he couldn’t let go. He needed to know.

Jaejin paused for a beat, his gaze flicking toward Junkyu as he kept his tone light, though the question underneath burned hotter than he’d let on. “So… what does it feel like?” He asked, his voice even but edged with something more. “You know… to be debuting? Is it everything you’ve dreamed of?”

young (fall) boys.

song preparation, with @lgcjaejin

a lot was currently going on. busy filming for fall boys, and on top of that, learning v&a choreography as well as working for the songs for fall boys that were to be released. sure, no one knew about the whole v&a thing, he was told to keep that completely quiet, and junkyu knew when to keep his mouth shut. so it was a lot all going on at once, and it was hard and tough, but it was something junkyu was determined to see through because the end result? was debuting, well, redebuting again.

and just like he's done a lot as of late, junkyu finds himself in one of the free practice rooms again, though he's not alone. luckily, and thankfully, jaejin is with him too. for young boy, junkyu didn't have one too many lines, so part of him wants to try and improve more on his dancing and performance through this.

"hey, jaejin, you want to practice together?" junkyu asks, offering as he moves to pick up his water bottle and take a few large gulps. "it might be a little easier, if you're down?" placing his water back down, he grabs a small towel to wipe at his forehead before slinging it over his shoulders.

[lgcjaejin]

☆ —Modeling Profile 2024

An update to Jaejin's modeling profile.

3 words to describe your image? (example: cute, bubbly, clumsy)

Athletic, youthful, and Masculine

3 words to describe your personality? (example: shy, positive, hardworking)

Adaptable, expressive, reliable.

3 interests of yours? (example: traveling, interior design, painting)

Hiking, rock climbing, and camping

3 special skills/talents? (example: swimming, tongue twisters, improvisation)

Capable of whistling complex tunes, Skateboarding, Origami.

Which color would you give to your aura? (example: light pink)

Red - grounded, energetic, and strong-willed

3 products that fit your image? (example: makeup, soy milk, haircare)

Shoes, outerwear/sportswear, sunglasses.

3 products that don’t fit your image?

Skincare, perfumes, formal clothing

[lgcjaejin]

@LGCENT just posted a photo!

Season’s changing, but the style stays the same 🧢✌️🍂

#lgctrainees #lgcent #carterjaejin

[lgcjaejin]

[lgcjaejin]

☆ —No More Mister Nice Guy

A Quiet Storm Brewing Jaejin's reaction to this (Spoiler: He doesn't take it well)

Jaejin sat on the toilet seat, elbows propped on his knees, face buried in his hands. His mind spun with the names. Junkyu. Hyuntae. Yoojoon. and now Minjun. He could barely process the announcement—his pulse was too loud in his ears. Again, they’d passed him over. Again. The frustration was like a physical weight on his chest, pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

His jaw tightened, teeth grinding. He fought the urge to slam a fist against the stall door. “Are you serious?” he hissed, anger boiling in his gut. No matter how hard he worked, no matter how much effort he put in, it was never him. It was always someone else. he had been passed over four times. four times. “What the hell do I have to do?” His voice shook, low and bitter.

His hands balled into fists as the irritation surged through him like wildfire. He wasn’t just disappointed—he was pissed. What more could he give? He’d poured everything into this, every bit of energy, every hour of practice. And for what? To sit here in a bathroom stall while someone else got the shot he wanted? The unfairness of it all crawled under his skin, burning with a deep, ugly heat.

The temptation to walk away rose inside him like a wave, crashing against the fragile walls of his ego. He could see it clearly—a life where he didn’t have to constantly fight, constantly prove himself. A world where he wasn’t judged on every move, every note, every glance. He could just quit. It would be so easy. Just… walk out. Let them keep their damn project, their damn team, and their damn group. He wasn’t the guy they wanted? Fine. He could stop wasting his time.

He imagined it and almost felt the relief wash over him. No more long days, no more endless competition. Just freedom. He could be done. But even as he toyed with the thought, he knew he wouldn't leave.

Quitting wouldn’t feel like freedom—it would feel like failure. Like letting them win. Like letting them see him give up and confirming everything (he) they thought. The idea made him sick. No, if he walked away now, he’d never forgive himself.

Jaejin stood abruptly, the sudden movement making his head spin for a moment, unlocked the stall door, and walked over to the sink. Staring at his reflection in the mirror for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’m not done,” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the version of himself that had even considered quitting.

He washed his hands quickly, scrubbing at them like he could somehow wash away the bitterness. The cold water barely cooled the fire still smoldering inside him. His reflection was calm now, but his jaw was still tight, his eyes still sharp with a simmering rage.

No, he wasn’t going to let this go. He wasn’t going to let this beat him. They might not have chosen him—again—but he wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing him walk away. He dried his hands , straightened up, and stormed out of the bathroom.

Let them underestimate him. He’d make sure they regretted it. no more Mister Nice Guy.

[lgcjaejin]

 𝙻𝙶𝙲:𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚘𝚢 - 𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚁𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Jaejin shifted in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he thought about the livestream. “I’ve gotta be honest,” he started, his voice lower than usual, “the livestream… it’s been on my mind a lot. I’ve worked with a few of the guys for a while now, but the group’s changed a bit--people leaving, new guys joining--it’s… different. ” he paused briefly, a hint of something deeper in his expression, “Sometimes, I still feel like I’m on the outside looking in.” His eyes focused on the floor for a moment before he continued.

“It’s not that they’ve made me feel unwelcome or anything,” Jaejin added quickly, as if to clarify. “It’s more… I guess I haven’t found my place yet. You know, when you’re in a room full of people with existing bonds, it’s easy to feel like you’re just… there. I had to focus on relying on myself to get through the whole thing, and honestly, that felt isolating. It’s hard to let go and lean on the other guys when I feel so out of place. The livestream only made that feeling stronger for me. Being live, knowing the cameras were on and the fans were watching… it was nerve-wracking

He let out a small, dry laugh. “I was hyper-aware of everything--how I was sitting, what I was saying, even how I was reacting to the others. Jisoo was great as the host though. He kept the vibe light, so it didn’t feel as tense, but still… it was hard to shake that feeling of being ‘new’ at this.

Jaejin paused, his thoughts swirling. “I kept thinking, ‘Am I being too quiet? Am I coming off too serious?’ You know, some of the guys have these big personalities, and they just… shine in moments like that. I want to show who I am too, but when the camera’s on. I kept overanalyzing things, like am I saying the right thing? Are they connecting with me the way they do with the other guys?’ It’s like I’m still figuring out how to show enough of my personality, without overdoing it or coming across as too reserved. It’s a tough balance.

A flicker of envy crossed his features before he quickly pushed it aside. “It’s not that I’m jealous of them,” he added, almost defensively, “but I do wonder if I’ll ever get to that point where I feel as comfortable. Where I stop worrying about how I come across and just… be myself.”