#building balance tour

[applepixls]

season 10 really is the social season.

tango in a stream from a week-ish ago joked that this is the season of non-redstoners learning redstone but i think it goes deeper than that

first of all, everyones putting in effort to interact with others and not burn out and balance their episodes with building and work and just having fun with friends

then, theres all the skill sharing.

tango asked bdubs to critique his starter house build, pearl's doing the hermit tours and asking for critiques and things they'd add, bdubs and impulse are working on the cyberpunk city together, stress and iskall are building murder mystery lane together. a lot of redstoners are developing their building skills and styles

then there's armour stands, of course cleos messing with them as always but now joel is as well and she's not holding back with praise for his work and he isn't holding back any admiration for hers either. impulse did the little king kong because the scaling update to the armour stand mod has everyone inspired to play and learn and mumbos asked cleo to teach him about it as well (sidebar: cleo does really well teaching? like i know they used to be a teacher but the clips from mumbos video just convince me they were a good teacher. they give him tips and tricks and suggestions and hints without telling him what to do or how to do it. shes also just like... teaching creativity? almost? along with the skill of giving the armour stands life, shes giving tips on how to imagine and realize a scene etc.)

and ofc, last but certainly not least, more people are building games and using redstone in general!! pearl built a game and showed it off to everyone, cleos doing the same with guess the hermit and xisumas more than happy to help trouble shoot and problem solve to make everything work. and its not just games! grians actually building farms (even if from tutorials, in the past he mostly just goes to the shopping district) and pearl and skizz are both learning and doing the research and designing their own farms?!

im sure i've missed a bunch but i'm just so impressed with the hermits and im happy everyone's having fun with friends this season

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake, Danny’s human identity in this universe, is a boy trapped in an empty manor with absentee parents a low socialization.

Danny Phantom, on the other hand, is Gotham City himself. He could fly, he could interact, he could be the heart of his city like he needs to be. From the lowest of the lows to the highest of the highs, Danny loved the people that were his. Well, most of them. Child molesters often found themselves crossing paths with a vengeful, mostly recovered Robin.

He is the city, he is Gotham. And with his status came more changes, ones he welcomes more readily that the changes that came with his title of Ghost King.

Being a city couldn’t change him as much as it would have, had he gained the title before becoming King. But now, his shadows are dark, curling around his shoulders and curling away what little light he allowed into his city. His skin, having once glittered green with stars and galaxies and black holes, clouds over just a bit. It gives him a misty quality. His hands become sharper, stronger. Gargoyle-like. He wonders what he looked like to Batman, holding his broken son cradled safely to himself. He’s crueler, now, but that’s easily balanced by his years of being a vigilante himself.

He loves these changes. They are loved in a way changing into Dead Danny Phantom and Ghost King Danny Phantom will never be loved. And even though his human features are different in a way he never had to deal with as Danny Fenton, because it was his body that he died in, Danny finds himself enjoying the distinction. And he enjoys when they combine, because in the end, they’re just facets of who he is, now.

Gotham flies through his city, and enjoys it as a whole. A bigger picture.

Tim Drake walks through his city, and enjoys it as an individual. The smaller picture.

Being Gotham reminds him of what he had to protect as a whole. A duty he gladly bears.

Being Tim reminds him of the people he’s meant to help, the stories he doesn’t get as Danny. A connection he gladly encouraged.

Gotham is power. He is duty, he is fierce love. But for the good of the whole.

Tim is kindness. He is choice, he is gentle devotion. But for the good of the individual.

He’s both.

Danny. Danny Phantom.

Phantom glides through the smog.

The ebb and flow of people is his life blood, the thrumming of life and death and fear and hate and love and everything the city is sung through him and Danny sung back with everything he had. Danny is the gargoyles perched high, watching everything. He’s the stone curves of the sewers, sheltering his rats and mutant murderous crocodile man. The is no love comparable to a city’s mutant rats and their sewers. Ancients, he loves his city.

It would be nice, Danny thinks wryly, if they’d love me enough to stop blowing up buildings.

The sting of destruction to his city would hurt much more, had he not also been King. Regardless, every time there’s an explosion or general large scale property damage, he feels a stab of mild pain. Catching sight of his Bats, Danny stays invisible while following them. He wills the shadows to cradle them, to hide them further. He softens the stone, the mortar, the steel, just a hint. Their footsteps, silent and aided by the city himself. The wind steal away the noise of the grappling guns, so when Danny’s favorite vigilante duo (a fascination he shared with original text!Tim) broke into the building, not a single soul aside them are aware of the intrusion.

Batman skulks across the support beams, Robin following with an anticipatory grin. Danny floats, invisible, undetectable, besides them.

“C’mon!” A goon grunts beneath them. Danny tilts his head. A… Dresden Aberthy. Wow. That’s one hell of a name.

“Hurry it up! Boss said Batman’s going to get here soon!” Another goon- Robbert- said, waving around a gun like a moron at the terrified hostages. Danny could tell half of them were part of a tour bus, mostly because the other half were his Gothamites, bored and unfairly used to this kind of thing. The tourists… He’s fond of them, having kept track of their progress through his city. He doesn’t care for intruders on his haunt, but tourists like to appreciate his city and its doubtlessly Sam-approved architecture. Most of them. Rude tourists get pigeon shit on their heads and food stolen by his lovely rats.

He’ll have to make sure none of the bullets hit the tourists. He likes this group, even if he has enough awareness to question their sanity in choosing his city to sightsee. He knows it’s a mess. It’s Danny’s mess though, so whatever.

——

All said and done, Batman whoops ass and Robin rescues the hostages just fine. Danny grins proudly as Robin knees a guy in the crotch and punches a lady’s throat in order to incapacitate them.

After they tied the goons up, and interrogated them for Two Face’s plans- explode a quarter of Gotham to distract the Bats from his diabolical plan to murder half of Gotham’s judges and lawyers that have been going after him and his people- the duo retreats to the rooftop.

“Didja think Gotham saw that?”

Batman goes to reply, but Danny beats him to it, coming back to visibility with a wind touched laugh.

“I did, little Robin.” Danny smiles, fangs and shadows on display as his vigilantes startles and whips around to face him. “You did well.”

Robin- Jason!- gapes at him.

“I see you’ve recovered, little bird.”

“Gotham! Oh. Wow. People always said Gotham was a lady, but you’re a guy!”

“It was a Lady,” Danny confirmed. “It’s complicated, little bird.”

“So, you’re really… you’re really Gotham? The city?”

Danny looks at Robin with the weight of the city behind his gaze.

“I think you know the answer to that. But yes, I am your city.”

“Constantine,” Batman starts. “He said that city spirits only appear in times of grave danger.”

There is deference in his words. Batman is Batman for Gotham, after all. Danny just wishes he could… well, be friendlier with his knights. May this is a good place to start.

Are you in danger? What threats do we need to handle? How can I help? How can I protect? Please, let me help.

His Knight always felt more than he ever says. Danny smiles.

“Was Robin’s wellbeing not in grave danger?” Danny floats closer. “I am your city. You protect me, it is only right that I protect you, no?”

“Thank you for saving me, Gotham!” Robin’s grin is a touch more sincere than usual.

“Of course, Robin. You are loved.”

“Is there… a reason you’ve shown yourself today? Gotham.”

Danny chuckles, understanding the awkwardness that was Batman addressing someone with deference.

“I wanted to tell you that you did well tonight. Those tourists weren’t harmed in the slightest. Well done.” Danny gave Robin a playful but sincere thumbs up.

“They weren’t a match for us!”

“No, they weren’t.” Danny ruffles Robin’s hair, noticing how still he grew at it. “Robin was too fast for them. That maneuver at the end was masterfully executed.”

Batman clears his throat and Danny resists the urge to laugh at him. It would be mean.

“Thank you, for the… praise.”

Fuck it. He’s played well behaved for too long.

“Yes. I read in child rearing books that positive reinforcement is necessary for healthy development. You did well, Batman.”

Despite trolling Batman- and somehow holding a straight (and hopefully wise face)- he meant every word.

Allowing a small smile to slip at Robin’s chortles and Batman’s quiet sputtering, Danny moves on.

“Where is Nightwing, Batman?”

“He’s still on a mission...”

“If it is awkward to refer to me as Gotham, Phantom will do.”

Batman dips his head once. “In space, with the Teen Titans.”

“I see. Please tell him I request his presence,” Danny barely waits for Batman’s oddly acquiescing agreement before summoning a pigeon.

“Follow her,” Danny instructs the duo. “She’ll lead you to the places with explosives. I will guide you through her, to Harvey Dent.”

Danny winces as another explosion rings out.

“Your face is cracking!” Robin exclaimed, worried. He surged forward to stare at the hairline cracks appearing on Danny’s jaw.

“That would be the explosives. Any damage to the city will be shown on me.”

“Well take care of it.” Batman growled, shoulders straightening once more into an imposing symbol.

“Yeah!”

“I know you will. Stay safe.” Danny disappears, spreading his awareness and directing his Birds to the explosives that will go off the fastest.

Batman and Robin share a glance and leaps off the roof, ready to save their city once more.

——

Tim Drake wanders around Crime Alley, and meets a blonde nine year old trying to throw hands at her absentee Riddler knockoff of a dad. He dodges the brick en route to his face and kicks the guy’s knees out.

“You okay?”

The girl blinks. She stares at her dad, groaning on the dirty street of crime alley, and flicks her gaze back up to Tim, who waits casually.

“Yep. I’m Stephanie. We’re gonna be friends now!”

She grins at him, a baby tooth missing, and Danny melts.

“Heck yeah. Tim!” He introduces himself for the first time in a long time.

Maybe with Stephanie around, he’ll finally use the name Tim? Maybe he’ll get used to it, finally!

[sideysvault]

ೀ｡˚ Patching Deadpool up years after he left you ೀ⋆｡˚

Pairing: Wade Wilson x fem!reader

Part two here

Wordcount: 2,9k

Tags: Canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending.

────────

The rusty silver plate read in an almost playful manner “The sisters Margaret home for wayward children”. It was a colorful name, and it belonged to a not so colorful bar. That was the place where the two of you had met.

Back then, you were nothing more than a student.  Constantly struggling to manage the very limited funding given to you. All you wanted was to finish your thesis, get your master’s degree, and make it to the end of the month. Your paychecks had cornered you into the only half decent apartment you could rent: The one built in the shittiest neighborhood in town, in a building held up solely by divine grace and poor construction.

That particular night was the end of an extremely rough week. Work piled up, homesickness struck you every time you had a chance to relax and think, and you were the living proof that nobody could make any meaningful connections if you only strictly went to work and home with no rest in between.

And for Christ’s sake, you hated to admit it, but you really missed home and the crippling suspicion that you were close to breaking down was settling in.

The only logical next step you could take popped into your head just as you were walking into your neighborhood. You needed to blow off some steam. Have a drink. Or two. Or three. So, your steps seemingly redirected themselves towards that ugly bar that was close to your uglier apartment. Sure, it seemed super sketchy. But right this second, all you needed was to get a drink.

Wade was in that bar too. As he usually was. He immediately took notice of the woman who seemed clearly out of place. You looked like some kind of stuck up librarian. And it was obvious that your mood was extraordinarily dispirited. Sitting there staring at the wall with a piercing stare. Paying no mind to the environment you were in. Furrowed eyebrows adorned your face seemed concerned. Before Wade even realized what he was doing, he found himself striking a conversation with you.

He tried to reason with himself. There were no ulterior motives, no meaning behind his accretion. Wade has always had a soft spot for damsels in distress. And you were hot as fuck. Nothing else.

“What's a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?”

Strangely, that's all it took to make you laugh. The absurdity of the corny comment immediately got to you and a loud burst of laughter came out of your mouth. Wade's face softened with a certain sense of pride when he saw he could make you laugh.

The stuck up girl with a stick up on her ass had just let out not a forced and polite giggle, but an all teeth and gums type of laugh.

The poorly dim light in the bar did not stop him from trying to take all your features in. And a sense of warmth began to surface under his skin. He was the one who made your night better.

Ever since the event, you would visit that horrid place regularly. Only to see the charming guy who would make you laugh. Your little hangouts quickly evolved into something more. A friendship of sorts. He would walk you home when you stayed late working. “To protect you from all the homicidal freaks”. Wade would take you on private tours around the city, so its streets wouldn't feel so foreign to you. He could notice that you genuinely had a great time whenever he was around. And that was all he needed to keep showing up.

One late night, laughter turned into teasing, which transformed to kissing, which later turned into a hookup that evolved into having sex on a regular basis and going out routinely. Wade and you couldn't be more different, it was true. But it seemed to be the key to your relationship. You guys clicked together, balancing each other out.

The insidious realization came to you on a random afternoon. You were in love with Wade Wilson. And he probably felt the same for you.

As cruel as life is, something terrible happened. Just as things were getting serious between the two of you, on one cursed night, he just decided to pick up all of his things from your apartment and leave. All Wade left behind was a tiny note stating that he had terminal cancer and that he loved you. With a little doodle of a heart with crossed out eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.

You were out doing research the first time he fainted. A full-time professor had the kindness to name you as a co-author in an important research paper that was being published in some big shot magazine. Wade felt extremely proud of you. On some late nights he couldn't believe that a woman like you could be head over heels a low stakes hit-man.

The decision felt simple at the time. He ran straight to the clinic and never told you about the incident. Wondering why he would bother you with something that was probably nothing. On that day, in a confined room with sterile air, with its gray walls and the constant sound of the old air conditioner, that’s where the doctor hit him with the whole terminal cancer ordeal. Wade knew you would automatically make a billion plans and extensive research. He knew you'd stay with him all the way through the end. Even if it affected your career, even if it would wreck you emotionally, even if your routine together was reduced to a mere nurse-client relationship, you would stay with him all the way. That was the reason he had fallen in love with you after all.

So, he made a choice. Albeit, one that was a little less simple. He was leaving before tarnishing your life, your memory of him and your time together with his sickness. He couldn't do that to you. The woman who actually had goals. And a shot for a promising future. If he told you about the situation, Wade was certain that he wouldn't have the heart to say no to you. He would stay. And you'd forever remember him as a lost puppy who you loved but had to put down mercifully.

The other option was to be the asshole who left. But he could live on your memory forever. As the person he once was. So that was that.

━━━━━━━━━

You decided to take a shortcut to your newly renovated home. You were wearing your favorite heels today. And they really weren't walking shoes. Brand new, stiff, and ridiculously blue. The scrappy and dark alleyway was well illuminated, and it would take you directly into the street your building was in. After weighing the options, you decided it was safe enough to make a run for it.

The loud noises that you increasingly heard coming from the dumpster worried you. The dumpster was located just before being able to get out of that creepy lane, and you tried to stop the flux of thoughts about homicidal maniacs that suddenly plagued your mind. But, the thought of injured animals that people abandoned on the street came to you as well. Getting closer, hearing the early sound of the echoed of your shoes against the cement, you tried to swallow your fear. Something in there could really need a vet.

But there was a mutilated man wearing a red suit. You instinctively froze and began to step back, the scene was so gruesome that you were sure you would puke on the body and ruin the DNA evidence. Just as you were typing the emergency number on your phone you heard that voice.

“Bad Deadpool” it mumbled. You heard some nonsensical phrases before you could make out a “Fuck. That was, like, my favorite arm”

Your heart began to pound so strongly you could practically feel it on your ears.

He hadn't noticed you yet, continuing to lose a shit ton of blood and trying to balance himself upward without the missing limbs and several shot wounds.

Not without a second thought, you ran to help him stand up. As soon as he felt your firm touch, he turned around violently, holding a defensive position. But the man in the red suit stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were the one holding him.

This was not the neighborhood you used to live in.

You sighed at the sight and quickly took him back to your apartment. You knew it was him. Not only that, but you were sure of it. The lame jokes had given it away. And that voice had haunted you for a long time. You'd recognize him anywhere. His remaining arm felt the same, the inflections of his tired voice sounded the same, and the shock he’d felt at seeing you was indisputable belonging to him.  You had heard rumors about the red suit. But never wondered who could be behind the mask. Wade was supposed to be dead by now, anyway.

Wade, on the other hand, was focusing on not making a sound. He really hoped breaking your heart had left you clinically insane. Insane enough to rescue random mutilated men off the street.

As soon as you entered the apartment it became tainted with carnage. A trail of crimson red adorned your freshly painted white snow walls. Little chunks of skin would occasionally fall. Accompanying the already gruesome blood. Your heels had been lost somewhere along the way and with great effort you had managed to throw him into a bed that he wasn't yet familiar with.

Fuck it. As if losing an arm and a leg wasn't enough. This was breathtakingly fucked.

The shock left your body as soon as you saw your not-dead ex-boyfriend mutilated on your bed. And shock was the only thing keeping you together.

By that moment he was certain you knew it was him. Your eyes began to tear up at the sight of his wounded body, your cheeks were trembling with fear, or disgust, or a combination of both. Before he could try to get up, a pool of blood came shooting out of his mouth without warning. Some of it must have filtered through the mask because you somehow looked more terrified than before. He felt dizzy. And before Wade could do anything about it, you took out his mask on a whim to try to avoid him choking on his own blood. And that was it. All that pain, all the abandonment, the secrecy. It all meant nothing now. You had seen his face.

You were definitely taken aback. And he felt his heart break a little when you instinctively removed her hand from his face. You swallowed with difficulty, shook your head and got up. There were more pressing matters at hand. You had heard things about the vigilante regenerating. But you weren't taking any chances. Not with Wade. Never again.

It didn't matter how fucked up he looked now. He took the opportunity of you leaving the room to put his mask back on as quickly as he could. As he was trying to process everything that had just happened, through the door he could see your crying face moving up and down around the apartment. And there you were. Carrying it all into the bedroom.

It was a massive, fancy emergency kit that you had saved up for back in the day. When he was still beating bad guys for money and living with you. You had kept it all this time. And it was still perfectly stocked.

Wade couldn't lift his gaze to meet yours. But he noticed that you seemed relatively unfazed by his new face now. Or by the fact that you had seen him lacking two limbs and with some extra holes. The tears had stopped, but the mortifying look on your face never left. You always knew what he did for a living, you weren’t stupid. But he had always managed to keep it out of home. Or at least he tried to. Never to this extent. You weren't really used to it.

After all he had faced, he thought he did not need any care anymore. Just his healing, getting high and his unicorn. After all, his body would mend all the damage he had done to it and grow itself back together. But it still hurts. And you still tried to make it better. You begin to patch him up as best as you can, taking your time disinfecting, sewing, and fixing him. He knew you well enough to be absolutely certain that you were trying not to gag at the sight of the wounds. And he appreciated your efforts.

When you finished, you softly traced your fingernails on his bandages. He was too tired to talk. And you were still too shocked. How the fuck is he still alive after those injuries? What had happened to him after all these years?

Without saying a word you got up and went straight to the kitchen. You returned after some time, with his favorite tea, soup, and all the analgesics you could find. Your kindness gave him courage to stop being such a weak pussy and actually try to talk to you. You had seen him. Even if you wouldn't want anything to do anymore, the worst had passed.

“So… Sorry about your walls. Didn't know you had a fancy place now. I would've totally died in another alleyway, I promise. And, sorry, for-uhm, you know. The character shattering abandonment”

He coughed some blood. You just furrowed your eyebrows and as slowly as you could, so he could actually stop you this time if that was what he wanted, you removed his mask again. Your eyes pierced him with earnest intensity.

“You are a fucking asshole. And I fucking hate you. And I'm so glad you are alive”

"I know, I know, baby. And thank you for going all Mother Teresa on me. Well, wrong comparison. But, yeah. I'll be okay in no time. It's hard to explain right now. But, I will do right by you and paint your walls bright white when my leg and everything grows back! Pinky promise. I'll also buy you new shoes. It's kinda gross that you are footless. Or, well, it could be h-”

“Oh my lord, Wade. Just shut up and get some rest. Eat when you feel better. And scream if you need something”

And just when you were about to leave the room he softly said “Hey. I'm sorry. I-, I didn't want to bring you onto the whole cancer show. I was going to fix myself and come back. And then everything got fucked. I couldn't let you see me like this. Understand that. I'm a monster now. Inside out. I would have never left if there had been a way of staying without ruining your life”

You just looked at him for a long moment. Tears began to appear in your eyes, threatening to come out again. As soon as he saw your face, he immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Hey, how long have you been obsessed with me?

Still keeping that old thing?” He said as he gestured at the now empty emergency kit.

He didn't have the heart to explain to you that it was a waste in him.

Saying nothing in response to Wade's dumb joke, you just rolled your eyes. Hearing him talk that way about himself hurt your soul. You couldn't help yourself anymore, so you walked towards the injured man with tears running down your face. You sat down on a chair beside the bed and rested your head on his lap.

He called your name softly “there's no need to cry. I know I belong to a fucking circus, but this is getting a little offensive" Wade finally got a chuckle out of you. You smile at him and wipe out your tears. Wade winces slightly when you tenderly leave a kiss on his forehead. He feels ashamed of the tact his ruined skin probably had left on your soft lips. It has truly been so long. You notice how he reacts. So you put your hands around his face and gently kiss each of his cheeks, and then the bridge of his nose. As softly as you can.

"I'll go now before you make some lame Greek kiss joke. Get some rest. We'll talk in the morning. I know you are sorry.” With a more serious voice, you added.

“Just no more running away in the middle of the night. Okay?”

Wade softens. He really missed you. As much as he liked Al's old ass, his true home was with you. Even after all these years. Even after what he did to you. Even with how he looked. Wade was certain he would be able to sleep soundly for the first time in years. He was safe now.

“Never again. I promise. I'll do right by you. Okay? We'll be friends with a ton of disgusting unexplored sexual tension in no time and who knows where that could lead to”

You laughed again. And there it was. His favorite sound in the world. It sounded just like the first time he heard it all those years ago.

"By the way, you do owe me those heels. And white walls. You pinky promised it. Oh, and you also owe me the biggest fucking explanation of the century.”

“Sounds like a start to me”

────────

Notes: OMG my first big one! I’m excited to post this. I hope it makes sense, if it doesn’t, feedback is always welcomed! -Sidey xxo

[Edited on October 2024! This was poorly written and I was fully proud of it 😭 shoutout to @nikkiwho, who I fixed this fit for] btw, I’m working on your request for part two even if it’s been a while! Hope you like it.

[juniperdugong]

Relationship Quirks 96s ver.

Aka habits I can see the boys doing in a relationship || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line ||

Junhui

Avoids foods you don't like or are allergic to

You thought it was weird when after you had mentioned that you were allergic or didn't like a certain food that you would never encounter it when you were with Jun. Of course, you would always avoid it but you knew Jun to not be that picky, in fact, he's quite an adventurous eater. So it just struck you as odd.

That is until you overhear him on the phone with the restaurant you guys were having a date at later tonight asking about the ingredients used in certain dishes and if {insert food here} was used. When you talk to him about this he casually says that he just wants to make sure that you eat well and like what you eat. (THE SWEETEST BOY IN THE WORLD)

Little do you know that he's started to exclude those foods from his diet as well, especially if it's an allergy you have. If it's a food you don't like then he doesn't want you to avoid kissing him if he's eaten it. BUT IF IT'S AN ALLERGY, red alert red alert, he thinks you'll go into anaphylactic shock if he eats something you're allergic to and then he touches/kisses you.

If you're not by his side when he's making decisions then it feels like the balance of the universe is off. Could be halfway across the world from each other and dude is calling you at 3am to ask which magnet he should bring home as a souvenir.

Hoshi

Needs your input on almost every decision he makes

Ooh it's bad, like looking at your parents when the doctor asks what your age is type of bad. He will know exactly what he wants at a restaurant but as soon as the waiter comes he's looking at you like a sheep and you have to mouth what he said he wanted seconds ago as he repeats you blindly. Almost all his decisions must have you're input or else he doesn't know what to do. This might be annoying to some but he values what you have to say so much. And honestly, if you disagree with something he takes it into genuine consideration and thinks about it a lot before making the final call.

His mindset can be summed up like this, "If y/n doesn't think I'll like that pasta then I probably won't like it, they know me very well."

Dude is clingy but not in a physical way... just in the way that he follows you around like a cat that wants your attention but can't say it. He does it unconsciously and to be honest it takes a mutual friend or one of the boys to point it out for either of y'all to notice. Truly it feels like he has to stay within a 30ft. radius of you sometimes.

Wonwoo

Follows you everywhere

The reason this behavior even started was because he missed you so much after tours and arduous schedules that he just HAD to be near you but he never wanted to initiate physical contact. (Being near you is enough for him) It's gotten to the point though that he ASSUMES you're taking him everywhere with you. You're upset and need "space"? Good luck! You'll be in another room for max 5mins before he's in there sitting the farthest possible distance he can while keeping you in sight.

"I can't do this right now, Wonwoo." "Fine then." "I'm going to my mom's place for a while." *Magically has both your suitcases and bags packed* "When are we leaving?"

I know I know... it's unexpected but true! The thing that I don't think a ton of carats realize is that this man does not fear affection AT ALL. He just doesn't like it in public displays. So in the privacy of his studio or at either of your homes, he is clingy, 100%.

Woozi

Needs to feel your touch

Has a computer chair that is specifically for you to be next to him while he's in the studio. If you're in the same room as him or HELL even the same building and there are no cameras or minimal people and you're not next to him then what even is the point? Might as well tell him you hate him or something, at least that's how he treats it.

The crazy part is that he doesn't even ask you for affection! He'll just say things out loud and expect you to get the message or he'll say things directly towards you but won't look in your direction. His number one phrase is, "I miss you..." all while you're feet away from him on the couch in the studio. You can be sitting in your designated chair BUT YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR LEGS DRAPED OVER HIS???? Suddenly, you hear a constant loop of "Damn, I miss my partner sooooo much, right now.", like sir? They're right there?

A/N: I am clinically insane over the 96 line. ALSO EVERYONE SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WONWOO!!!! (Even though it's literally 10pm and his day is nearly over) I'll try to have the next 2 parts out sometime tmrw. Stay sweet lovelies!! Reblogs and comments are like power surges for my writing so they are much appreciated!

TAGLIST (open): @bemybabiibish

[pearlprincess02]

dating and dates (gemini version)

gemini: (gemini venus/mars/5th house/7th house)

dating someone with gemini venus, gemini mars, gemini in the 5th house, and gemini in the 7th house can be an exciting whirlwind of communication, curiosity, and mental stimulation. these placements thrive on intellectual connection and variety in relationships. they need a partner who can keep up with their quick wit and adaptable nature. for gemini venus, love blooms through conversation and shared ideas, so a partner who can engage them intellectually is essential. gemini mars brings an energetic and playful dynamic to relationships, making them passionate about exploring new experiences. with gemini in the 5th house, dating feels like a creative adventure—they’re drawn to fun, spontaneous interactions that spark their imagination. gemini in the 7th house values partnership that feels mentally stimulating and balanced, often seeking someone who challenges them to grow while maintaining a lighthearted dynamic. together, these placements suggest someone who is curious, social, and values relationships that are mentally engaging and ever-evolving.

date night ideas

visit a local bookstore with a cozy café to discuss favorite books, take a class together (e.g., pottery, cooking, or creative writing), attend a poetry slam or open mic night for unique creative vibes, spend an afternoon at an art exhibit with plenty of conversation (gemini venus), try a food truck tour or a street market for variety (gemini venus, gemini mars, gemini 5th house), go to a comedy show for laughs & a lighthearted vibe, attend a trivia or board game night for some friendly competition (gemini venus, gemini 5th house, gemini 7th house), have a picnic in a scenic area with plenty of chatting & exploring (gemini venus, gemini 7th house), go on a hiking trail that ends with a stunning view for a thrilling yet calming activity, try an escape room for a fast-paced, collaborative challenge, attend a dance class to channel their energetic & flirty side, go indoor rock climbing for a physical yet stimulating activity (gemini mars), spend the day at an amusement park for fun & laughter, have a diy craft night where creativity takes center stage, play trivia at a local pub to mix intellect & fun, organize a mini karaoke session at home or at a bar (gemini 5th house), attend a debate or panel discussion on a topic of interest, go people-watching at a park or café while chatting about life, spend an evening stargazing with a telescope & snacks, take a road trip to a nearby town for new scenery & conversations (gemini 7th house)

over 18+ spicy bonus 🔞

gemini: (gemini mars/cupido/eros/lust/amor)

those with gemini mars, gemini cupido, gemini eros, gemini lust, and gemini amor in their chart bring an energetic, curious, and playful approach to intimacy. their preferences often revolve around mental stimulation, communication, and variety. gemini mars is adventurous and thrives on novelty, often turning curiosity into an exciting dynamic in the bedroom. gemini cupido enhances the flirtatious, teasing energy, loving to build anticipation through witty exchanges or playful banter. gemini eros brings a deep craving for connection through engaging and mentally stimulating experiences, where the mind is as involved as the body. with gemini lust, there’s an insatiable appetite for exploration and trying new things, always seeking something to keep things fresh and exciting. finally, gemini amor adds a touch of tenderness and emotional connection to their passionate side, making them versatile lovers who can balance fun, experimentation, and intimacy. together, these placements create someone who is adventurous, adaptable, and eager to explore both physical and intellectual chemistry with their partner.

kinks you might have

role-play scenarios that allow for creativity & excitement, a focus on trying new settings or unconventional approaches to intimacy, exploring kinks that incorporate elements of competition or playfulness (gemini mars), incorporating movement & physical activity into intimacy (e.g., positions that require balance or energy) (gemini mars, gemini lust), exploring shared fantasies with trust & excitement (gemini mars, gemini amor), flirty teasing that involves playful restraint or anticipation, scenarios that revolve around verbal seduction & suggestive dialogue, light games or challenges that build up tension & excitement (gemini cupido), combining mental games with physical engagement (e.g., puzzles with rewards) (gemini cupido, gemini eros), playful or flirtatious scenarios with surprise twists (gemini cupido, gemini lust), sensual acts that involve combining physical & intellectual stimulation, exploring slow/detailed scenarios that focus on the journey, not the destination, reading or storytelling as part of intimate play to engage the imagination (gemini eros), gentle/emotionally charged experiences with a focus on connection (gemini eros, gemini amor), trying new toys or tools to add variety & excitement, exploring dynamic/spontaneous or adrenaline-boosting experiences, scenarios that involve surprise elements or spontaneity (gemini lust), romantic yet playful encounters that combine tenderness & fun, light/affectionate touch combined with verbal affirmations of love, sharing fantasies in a comfortable & safe setting (gemini amor),

all observations are done by me !!! @pearlprincess02

main masterlist

[littlelamy]

hi!! love ur work!!

dk if ur accepting requests rn, but was wondering if you could write smth about pop star!reader & drew (or just overall singer!reader). i saw someone talking about it and i cant get it off of my mind

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗

it was another sold-out show. another city. another wave of excitement from thousands of fans packed into a venue, shouting your name and hanging onto every note that poured out of you. the adrenaline rush of performing live was unmatched, the kind of high that no drug could ever replicate. but after a month of touring nonstop, even the thrill of being on stage started to wear thin.

it wasn’t that you didn’t love it. you did—every bit of it. from the screaming fans to the electric energy in the air, it was everything you’d dreamed of when you first started in the music industry. but there was a part of you that felt off-balance, like you were running on empty. touring was exhausting, the never-ending cycle of cities, rehearsals, and interviews blurring together into one chaotic whirlwind.

and then there was him.

drew.

it had been a month since you’d last seen him in person. one long, torturous month of late-night facetime calls, texts that never seemed to come at the right time because of your conflicting schedules, and longing that seemed to grow worse with every passing day. while you were hopping from city to city, drew had been just as busy with his projects—filming, press events, photoshoots. you understood. you were both caught up in your careers, chasing dreams that had taken years of hard work to build. but understanding didn’t make it easier. you missed him. every part of him.

the smell of his cologne, the way his voice sounded when he whispered in your ear late at night, the feeling of his arms around you when the world felt too big. it was starting to wear you down, the ache of wanting him by your side and knowing that, for now, it wasn’t possible. every facetime call ended with a hollow sort of emptiness, as if the screen between you was a barrier you couldn't break through no matter how much you wanted to.

the show tonight had gone off without a hitch, but you couldn’t shake the weird feeling lingering at the back of your mind, like something was missing. the lights dimmed as the crowd roared, the final note hanging in the air. you threw your arms up, shouting your thanks into the microphone before jogging off stage, your heart still racing from the energy of the crowd. the crew backstage clapped and congratulated you, but your mind was elsewhere.

“great show tonight,” your tour manager said as you handed off your mic and took a long sip of water, your body still buzzing from the performance.

“thanks,” you replied absentmindedly, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair. all you could think about was your hotel room. a long, hot shower. maybe a glass of wine. and then another lonely night where you’d scroll through the hundreds of pictures of drew on your phone, wishing he was there.

you were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice him at first.

as you turned the corner into the quieter part of the backstage area, something caught your eye. a figure leaning casually against the wall, hands tucked into his pockets, a soft smile playing on his lips. your heart nearly stopped.

it was him.

drew.

you blinked, unsure if you were hallucinating from exhaustion, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. but no, there he was, standing there in a black hoodie and jeans, looking like he had just stepped out of one of your dreams.

“surprise,” he said with a smirk, his voice calm, but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

your body moved before your brain could catch up, your feet propelling you toward him at full speed. you practically launched yourself into his arms, your face burying in his chest as you held onto him tightly. “oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his hoodie. “what are you doing here?”

his arms wrapped around you, strong and warm, just the way you remembered. “i missed you,” he said simply, his lips brushing against your hair as he spoke. “i couldn’t stay away any longer.”

you pulled back, just enough to look up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief. “you didn’t even tell me you were coming,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest.

he grinned, that playful smile that always made your stomach flip. “that’s kinda the point of a surprise, babe.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you, where all the stress and loneliness of the last month had been building. seeing him now, standing right in front of you, made everything else fade away. the exhaustion, the homesickness, the long nights spent staring at your phone—it all disappeared.

“i can’t believe you’re really here,” you said softly, your hands coming up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his jaw, his cheekbones. you wanted to memorize every inch of him, just in case this was another one of those fleeting moments that would be over too soon.

“i wasn’t gonna miss the chance to see you perform,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “you’re amazing out there.”

you felt a blush creep up your neck at his words. even after all this time, he still had that effect on you. “i’m better when you’re here,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not the same without you.”

drew’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender way that made your heart swell. the kiss was slow at first, gentle and unhurried, like he was savoring every second of it. you melted into him, your hands slipping up into his hair as you kissed him back, all the longing and frustration of the past month pouring into that one moment.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and a little dizzy, he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your lower back. “i’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m here. for as long as you need me.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. the relief washed over you like a wave, the tension in your shoulders finally easing as you let yourself relax in his arms. “i need you,” you admitted softly. “i always need you.”

drew’s arms tightened around you, and he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more need. the world around you seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressing closer together as if you couldn’t get enough of each other. his hands roamed over your back, slipping under the hem of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“God, i’ve missed this,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. “missed you.”

your fingers tangled in his hair as you kissed him harder, the sound of your breathing filling the empty hallway. you backed up against the wall without even realizing it, your back pressing against the cool surface as drew’s body pressed against yours. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, the need to be close to him, to feel him, taking over every rational thought in your mind.

he kissed his way down your jaw, his lips trailing over your neck as your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips. “drew,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need.

“i know,” he murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed his body against yours, his lips working their way back up to yours. “i know.”

the kiss turned desperate, almost frantic, like you were trying to make up for all the lost time in one single moment. his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you looked up at him, your lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. “i don’t know if i’m ever gonna let you leave again,” you admitted breathlessly, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

drew chuckled, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his own breath. “i wouldn’t mind that,” he said, his voice low and rough. “i’d stay right here with you forever if i could.”

you smiled up at him, your heart swelling with love and relief. “good,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him again, this time slower, softer, like you had all the time in the world.

the kiss was sweet, full of promise and love, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

as the noise from the crew and backstage workers started to filter back into your awareness, you reluctantly pulled away, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “we should probably—”

drew grinned, his eyes sparkling as he cut you off with another quick kiss. “we’ve got time,” he murmured against your lips. “let’s not rush.”

you smiled, your heart swelling with happiness as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. for now, it didn’t matter that the tour was still going, that you had more cities to visit, more shows to perform. all that mattered was that he was here, with you.

and you weren’t letting him go anytime soon.

the next couple of hours passed in a blur. after the initial surprise wore off, you and drew managed to steal away into one of the more private areas backstage, where you could just be together without any interruptions. sitting side by your side on a worn-out couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, you finally felt a calm wash over you that you hadn’t felt in weeks. it was like everything settled back into place just by having him near you.

“so,” drew said after a while, his fingers absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair, “how many more shows do you have left?”

“three,” you replied, tilting your head to look up at him. “just three more, and then i’m back home.”

“home, huh?” he teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “you mean where i’ll be waiting for you with takeout and a bottle of wine?”

you laughed softly, nodding. “exactly that. except maybe i’ll be the one bringing the wine.”

he chuckled, his thumb gently tracing circles on your shoulder. “deal. can’t wait. but for now, i’m all yours for the rest of tonight.”

you leaned your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “i still can’t believe you’re here,” you murmured, your voice soft with contentment. “you really surprised me.”

“i wanted to,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i knew how hard this month’s been for both of us. couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”

your heart swelled at his words. there was something so comforting about having him close again, the kind of comfort that only came with someone who knew you inside and out. even with busy lives, drew always made sure you felt like the most important thing in his world.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you even realized it. it wasn’t the first time you’d said it, but every time felt just as meaningful, just as true.

drew’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your forehead. “i love you too,” he whispered back, his voice full of emotion. “always.”

for a while, the two of you just sat there in peaceful silence, holding onto each other like the rest of the world didn’t exist. it was a rare, precious moment where time seemed to slow down, and you could just be. no pressures, no responsibilities—just you and drew, wrapped up in each other.

eventually, though, reality crept back in.

“you’ve got an early call tomorrow,” you reminded him reluctantly, your voice tinged with disappointment. “and i have to be at soundcheck.”

“i know,” he sighed, pulling back just enough to look down at you. “but i’ll be here, alright? for the rest of the tour.”

you blinked in surprise. “wait, you’re staying?”

“yeah,” drew said, his smile widening as he nodded. “i cleared my schedule. i’m not letting you finish this tour alone.”

a wave of relief and happiness washed over you, and you couldn’t help the huge smile spreading across your face. “drew, are you serious?”

“dead serious.” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. “we’re doing this together.”

tears of happiness welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, overwhelmed by how much love you felt for him in that moment. “i can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

“i’d do anything for you,” he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “you know that.”

you kissed him again, slow and sweet, savoring the feel of his lips against yours. the exhaustion from the tour, the long nights apart, the stress—it all melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence, the comfort of knowing you weren’t alone anymore.

as you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you breathed him in. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you.”

drew chuckled, his fingers gently tracing your jawline. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured. “believe me.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[stormyfog]

silent serenade 🎤

yandere idol jungwon x fem!reader

content: yandere behavior, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, manipulation, smut later on

chapter 1

you’ve been a dedicated fan of enhypen ever since their debut in 2020, collecting every album, attending concerts, and supporting them through every milestone. your bias, jungwon, always had a special place in your heart, and you couldn’t help but focus your camera on him during every performance. unbeknownst to you, jungwon noticed your unwavering attention, his gaze occasionally finding yours in the crowd. over time, he found himself growing curious about the fan who always seemed to have eyes only for him. now, in 2024, you receive an email from belift lab, announcing that you’ve won a one-on-one fan interaction with enhypen. you’re overjoyed, thinking your luck has finally turned, but what you don’t know is that it wasn’t luck at all—jungwon personally ensured your name was added to the list, a quiet choice hidden among those who won by purchasing stacks of albums.

excitement coursed through you as you packed your bags, carefully choosing outfits that struck the perfect balance between stylish and casual. this wasn’t just any trip—it was the opportunity of a lifetime. with your plane ticket to south korea booked, you made sure to reserve a hotel near one of the belift lab buildings, where the highly anticipated fan interaction event was set to take place. as you folded your favorite enhypen hoodie into your suitcase, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of meeting jungwon and the rest of the group in person. it felt like a dream finally coming true, and you were determined to make the most of every moment.

the moment you arrived in south korea, a wave of exhilaration washed over you. you settled into your cozy hotel room, the fan event just two days away. to pass the time, you logged into instagram account, ‘kittiewonnie,’ a playful nod to jungwon’s cat-like personality. feeling the excitement bubbling within you, you snapped a quick selfie in your casual outfit and posted it with the caption, “can’t wait to meet enhypen soon!” almost instantly, your fellow engenes filled the comments with kind words and excitement. among the replies, one stood out: “you look so pretty,” from an account named ‘jungwon_irl.’ the account had been your very first follower when you made your fan page in 2023. they never posted anything and only followed other fan accounts, but they never failed to like and comment on every single one of your posts. you’d always assumed it was just another dedicated fan sharing the same joy, but little did you know, it was jungwon himself, quietly keeping tabs on you in secret.

the day had finally arrived. you slipped into your enhypen hoodie—the one from their ‘walk the line’ tour—and made your way to the belift building, your heart pounding with anticipation. as you approached the venue, you could hear the distant hum of excitement from fellow fans, and security guards were busy guiding everyone to their designated spots inside the building. once inside, the energy in the air was electrifying. fans chattered excitedly, their faces lit up with joy as they eagerly awaited their chance to meet the group. you couldn’t help but feel a surge of exhilaration when you finally caught sight of them—enhypen. the moment felt surreal, as though you were dreaming. jungwon stood there, his presence commanding yet warm, and you could feel your pulse quicken. this was really happening.

you quickly remembered the instructions belift had sent you when you first received the email. you had to wait your turn in line, and no one was allowed to go overboard with their interactions. it was all set up neatly—enhypen members were sitting in chairs with a table in front of them, while there were chairs set up across for the fans. the excitement in the room was palpable, and you could barely contain your nervous energy. each fan had five minutes to interact with their chosen member, take selfies, and even give gifts. you had spent hours making personalized keychains for each member, each one representing their animal spirit. it was something you were really proud of, and you couldn’t wait to give them to the boys. as you looked around, you noticed how carefully organized everything was, and your heart began to race. it was your turn soon, and jungwon would be the first one you’d meet.

chapter 2

jungwon couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you, his gaze lingering as he noticed how shy you were to meet him. he chuckled softly, amused by your nervousness, before your turn finally came. as you shyly greeted him, you handed him the cat keychain you made, and his face immediately lit up in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “this is so thoughtful,” he said, his smile genuine. “i love cats! thank you so much, it’s perfect.” you could feel the warmth of his appreciation, making you glad he liked it. "i'm so happy you like it!" you said softly, feeling a little more at ease as he smiled at you.

you nervously asked, "um, do you mind if we take a selfie?" and to your surprise, jungwon eagerly agreed, his eyes lighting up. “of course! let’s make it cute,” he said, grinning. he raised his hand to make a heart next to your face, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he leaned in, the soft touch making your pulse race. “aww!” you heard a few fans exclaim behind you. you smiled shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, and jungwon held your hand for a moment, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. "you’re so cute when you’re shy," he commented with a gentle laugh. “it makes me want to protect you even more.”

as you pulled out your album and photo card for him to sign, jungwon continued to shower you with compliments. “your style is amazing,” he said, glancing at your outfit with admiration. “you look so pretty.” his words made your heart flutter as you placed your items in front of him. “thank you… you’re so sweet,” you stammered, trying not to get lost in the moment. he smiled as he signed the page, taking his time and making sure his handwriting was perfect. “i think you're more than just pretty, though. you have this, like, unique vibe that makes you stand out.” his voice was soft but sincere, and you felt like time had slowed as he focused on you. as he slipped a small piece of paper inside the album, he whispered, “it’s a surprise for later. i hope you’ll like it.” his attention felt entirely focused on you, making your heart race in ways you couldn’t control. everything about this interaction was perfect, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel there was something deeper in his eyes—something more intense—that made you wonder if his feelings went beyond just kindness.

as you continued greeting the other members, you gave them the keychains you’d made, each one representing their animal. they all seemed genuinely happy with the gift, each of them thanking you with a bright smile that made your heart flutter. you felt a sense of pride, glad that they appreciated the little gesture. but as you moved through the line, something caught your attention. jungwon hadn't held any of the other fans' hands, nor had he taken selfies with them. you thought it was strange, but maybe you were just overthinking it. after all, he was probably tired after the long day of meeting fans. you quickly brushed it off, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal. maybe he was just focused on you for that moment, nothing more. but deep down, a small, nagging feeling lingered. something about it didn’t sit right, but you chose to ignore it, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

the event finally came to a close, and you couldn’t contain your happiness. you picked up a few pieces of merch from the small booth they had set up, your arms full of souvenirs that would forever remind you of the day. afterward, you chatted with other engenes, bonding over how incredible the experience was. you even ended up befriending three fans: yunjin, sakura, and kazuha. you all exchanged instagram handles, excited to stay in touch and share your love for enhypen. laughing and chatting together, everything felt perfect. what you didn’t know, though, was that jungwon was standing by the building window, watching the whole interaction unfold. he stood there silently, his eyes narrowed in a mix of jealousy and possessiveness, as he watched you laugh and make new friends. but to you, the world seemed bright and carefree, unaware of the storm brewing behind the scenes.

as you made your way back to your hotel room, a wave of excitement and exhaustion hit you all at once. you couldn't stop smiling, replaying each moment in your head, and felt grateful for everything. as you sat on the edge of your bed, your phone buzzed with notifications from your new friends—yunjin, sakura, and kazuha—each of them sending you messages filled with excitement. you replied, still buzzing with happiness, but something about your phone’s battery dying felt like a sign you needed to rest. jungwon, meanwhile, returned to his dorm and immediately checked your instagram. he liked and commented on your post from earlier, filled with pictures from the event, and saved every single photo to his camera roll, savoring each moment you shared with him.

as jungwon scrolled through the pictures on his camera roll, a sense of longing washed over him. he couldn't help but always feel drawn to y/n’s bright smile, her eyes sparkling with joy in every frame. the memories from the event came flooding back, and he felt his heart ache with a deep yearning to be closer to her. without thinking twice, jungwon's hand reached for his cock, already hardening as he jerked off to the photos of y/n that he'd saved. these fleeting moments captured in time were enough to drive him wild with desire.

chapter 3

the next morning, as sunlight filtered through your hotel window, you remembered the note jungwon had slipped into your album. curious, you quickly grabbed the album from your bag and unfolded the small piece of paper. written neatly in his handwriting was a phone number, accompanied by a tiny heart drawn next to it. your thoughts raced—how could an idol give away their phone number so easily? it felt surreal, and you questioned if it was even real. still, curiosity got the best of you, and you typed out a message: "hi, this is jungwon, right? you gave me a piece of paper with this number on it." moments later, your phone buzzed with a reply: "hi, y/n! yes, this is jungwon, hru?" your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the screen, hardly believing what was happening.

how did jungwon know your name? you never told him during the event yesterday, but the thought was quickly overshadowed by the fact that he was texting you. you replied, "i'm good, hbu?" and his response came almost instantly: "i'm doing good as well." doubts lingered in your mind—what if this was a prank? testing your theory, you asked him to send a selfie to prove it was really him. within moments, a photo of jungwon appeared on your screen, smiling softly with a peace sign. your heart raced as you stared at the picture, and then another message followed: "why don’t you send me a selfie too, cutie?" the pet name made your cheeks burn, but you quickly pulled yourself together and sent a photo of yourself, your fingers trembling as you hit send.

jungwon replied, "you look pretty, as always." the simple compliment sent your heart soaring, filling you with a mix of disbelief and happiness. the two of you texted for a while, casually chatting about your day and other small things. at one point, you mentioned how sad you were about having to leave tomorrow, explaining that you’d already booked your flight back home. his response was odd: "maybe you might stay longer, who knows?" it left you a little confused, but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being playful. the next morning, as you were packing your things, you received an unexpected text from the airline saying your flight had been canceled. confused, you checked the news, but there were no reports of bad weather or issues at the airport. jungwon, on the other hand, had been the one to cancel your flight. using hacking tutorials he’d found online, he had exploited the public wi-fi you connected to during the event and accessed your phone, making sure you wouldn’t leave him so soon.

thinking it was likely an internal issue with the airline, you shrugged it off and decided to spend some time on instagram. you opened the group chat you had created with yunjin, sakura, and kazuha, aptly named ‘engenes4ever,’ and sent a quick message: "looks like my flight got canceled :( guess i'm stuck here for a bit longer!" the others were quick to respond, flooding the chat with messages like, "omg, lucky!" and "more time in korea means more memories!" their excitement cheered you up a bit, and you figured you’d try rebooking the flight later. little did you know, your unexpected delay was all part of someone else's plan.

wanting to make the most of your extended stay, you decided to step outside and take some pictures to capture the memories. as the hours passed, your stomach started to growl, so you stopped by a nearby 7/11 to grab some snacks. you wandered through the aisles, scanning the shelves for anything that looked appetizing. just as you reached for a pack of chips, you accidentally bumped into someone, sending your snacks tumbling to the ground. "oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! are you okay?" you exclaimed, crouching down to pick them up. when you looked up, your heart skipped a beat—it was jungwon. “we meet again, cutie!” he said with a warm smile, effortlessly kneeling to help gather your snacks.

jungwon handed me my snacks with a bright smile, saying, “i was just here to grab some food too.” he casually explained that the building where the fan event was held also had their dorms on the top floor, so this 7/11 was their go-to convenience store. then, as if it was nothing, he added, “oh, isn’t your hotel the one just down the street from here? it’s super close.” i froze for a moment, my mind racing. how did he know which hotel i was staying at? i hadn’t mentioned it to anyone—not even on social media. a strange sense of unease settled over me, but i forced a smile and nodded.

jungwon smiled warmly and said, “you know, i actually remember seeing you at our concerts. you were always in the crowd recording me, weren’t you?” my eyes widened in surprise. out of all the fans, how did he remember me? i was just one face in a sea of people. “wow, i didn’t think you’d notice,” i replied shyly. before i could say anything else, i glanced at the time and realized how late it was. “i should probably head back,” i said quickly. without missing a beat, jungwon offered, “let me walk you back to your hotel. it’s not safe to walk alone at night.” my mind raced, unsure of what to say, and in a flustered rush, i agreed, thinking it would be fine.

as we walked side by side, a nervous thought crossed my mind—what if someone saw us together? what if a fan recognized him and took a picture, spreading rumors about us ‘dating’? the idea made my heart race, but before i could voice my concerns, jungwon casually spoke up. “don’t worry about it,” he said, his tone calm, almost too calm. “i wouldn’t mind if people saw us together.” he smiled to himself, almost knowingly. i blinked in confusion, but before i could process what he meant, he added, “maybe it’ll even make them jealous.” a shiver ran down my spine as the thought lingered in my head. jungwon wanted to show the world how close we were, but little did i know, by ‘close,’ he meant something much darker—like obsessively stalking my instagram and saving every post, every picture of me for his own private collection.

chapter 4

the next morning, i was jolted awake by the constant pinging of my phone. blinking groggily, i reached for it, only to see numerous notifications flooding my screen. my heart dropped when i saw pictures of me and jungwon walking together yesterday, caught by a fan with a perfect shot. “oh no… is this really happening?” i whispered to myself, panic creeping in. i quickly opened the 99+ messages in my friends’ group chat, only to see their shock and excitement. they were all blown away by the pictures, sending me congratulatory messages and questions about what had happened. but then, i saw it—kazuha’s messages. her words were laced with a hint of jealousy, each message growing more unsettling as she asked if jungwon was ‘really into me.’ i could almost feel the tension building with every text, her possessive tone hard to ignore. was she really that jealous?

just as i was scrolling through the messages, my phone buzzed again. it was jungwon. his text read: “did you see the pictures of us? so cute, right?” i felt a knot forming in my stomach. i hesitated for a moment before replying, “aren’t you worried about this? about how people might react?” the reply came quickly, and his words only made my unease grow. “no, not worried at all. honestly, i’m just so happy. i’ve been wanting this for so long.” i stared at the screen, my fingers hovering over the keys. what did he mean by that? why did he seem so pleased when i felt like everything was starting to spiral out of control?

i sat on the bed, staring at my phone screen in disbelief. what does jungwon mean by ‘waiting for this for so long’? the thought lingered in my mind, making my stomach churn. i tried to shake it off, deciding to get ready and book my flight home. but as i opened every airline website i could think of, a message popped up each time, claiming there were ‘technical difficulties’ and that i wouldn’t be able to book a flight until next week. confused and frustrated, i looked at my phone again, only to see a flood of dms from kazuha on instagram. my heart sank as i opened them, my hands trembling. her words weren’t friendly anymore. they were full of anger and hate, even death threats, calling me all sorts of awful things. what happened to her? i couldn’t believe the person who was so kind to me during the event was now sending me these hateful messages. i felt a weight settle in my chest. this wasn’t the kazuha i had befriended. something had shifted, and i didn’t know if i could handle what was coming next.

as i sat there processing kazuha’s hateful messages, my phone buzzed again. it was jungwon. “is kazuha bothering you?” he texted. my heart skipped a beat. how did he know about her messages? i hadn’t told anyone. “how do you know?” i replied hesitantly, my fingers trembling over the screen. his response came almost immediately. “i just don’t like it when someone is being mean to you. you don’t deserve that.” his words seemed protective, but there was an unsettling undertone to them. he was acting like he knew me personally, like we’d been close for years, and yet we’d only truly met at the event.

i didn’t know how to respond to jungwon’s text. on one hand, his concern felt sweet and caring, but on the other, it was starting to feel overwhelming. how did he know about kazuha’s messages? why did he act like we were so close when we barely knew each other? i told myself i was probably overthinking it—he was just being nice, right? but the feeling of unease lingered, making me question everything about this strange turn of events.

a couple of days had passed, and kazuha had stopped messaging me. i felt relieved but anxious at the same time, as if the quiet was too unnatural. sakura and yunjin had been checking in with me, clearly worried. then, out of nowhere, yunjin texted the group chat, “omg, guys! turn on your tv right now!” i scrambled for the remote, turning it on to see breaking news about someone who had taken their own life. my heart sank as the anchor revealed the identity of the person—it was kazuha. my body froze in shock, unable to process it. what could have led her to do this? meanwhile, jungwon, who knew about kazuha's behavior, had been using an undercover account to manipulate her, twisting her thoughts and emotions until she reached the point of no return.

as i sat there in shock, my phone buzzed with another text from jungwon. “are you watching the news right now?” he asked. my hands trembled as i typed back, “yes… how did you know?” his reply came almost instantly, “she deserved it.” my stomach churned at his words. confused and increasingly worried, i hesitated before asking, “jungwon… did you have something to do with this?” there was a brief pause before he responded, “there's no need to worry now, cutie. everything’s taken care of.” my blood ran cold as i stared at his message, trying to understand what was really going on.

chapter 5

unable to handle the paranoia any longer, i called jungwon, my hands shaking as i held the phone to my ear. the moment he answered, i blurted out, “what is going on, jungwon? why are you acting so weird towards me?” there was a moment of silence before he chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “i was waiting for the right moment to confess my feelings to you,” he said, his tone calm but unnervingly possessive. “but i guess you’ve forced my hand.” my heart raced as he continued, “yes, that instagram account was mine. and yes, i’ve been following you whenever you leave your hotel. i just wanted to protect you... to be close to you.” his words felt like a weight pressing down on my chest, and i could barely breathe as the reality of his obsession began to sink in.

before i could process his confession, i heard muffled cries in the background. my stomach dropped as i asked, “what’s that sound, jungwon?” he responded nonchalantly, “oh, that’s sakura. she’s here with me, tied up in a chair.” my blood ran cold. “what? jungwon, what are you doing?! why is she there?” he let out a low chuckle, the sound sending chills through me. “your friends, sakura and yunjin, aren’t as kind as you think they are,” he said, his voice calm but laced with malice. “they’re jealous of you too. when that picture of us walking together went online, they couldn’t hide their envy.” he brought the phone closer to sakura, and i could hear her muffled cries and struggling.

my voice trembled as i begged, “please, jungwon, don't hurt her. just let her go.” but there was no mercy in his eyes. without a word, he facetimed me, and the moment his face appeared on the screen, my breath caught in my throat. behind him, i saw sakura’s lifeless body, her eyes wide open, a deep cut across her throat, blood staining the floor beneath her. the dim, cold atmosphere around him made it clear—he was in some abandoned warehouse, the eerie silence adding to the horror of the moment. tears welled in my eyes as i stared, horrified, at the sight. jungwon’s smile was twisted, the blood on his face a chilling reminder of what he had done. “it’s too late,” he said coldly, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “she couldn’t save herself, and neither can you.”

jungwon’s words echoed in my mind like a haunting whisper, “if you tell anyone or try to go to the police... you'll be next.” the gravity of his threat sunk in as the screen went black after he hung up. i sat there, trembling, my mind racing with panic and fear. the thought of losing everything—the safety i had, the peace i once had—was terrifying. what could i do? if i stayed silent, i’d be trapped in this nightmare, but if i tried to speak out, jungwon would make sure there were no survivors. the weight of his warning crushed me, leaving me to contemplate my next move, unsure of who i could trust or where i could turn.

i quickly texted yunjin, asking if she was okay. to my relief, she replied that she was fine—looks like jungwon hadn't gotten to her, at least not yet. she then asked if i was okay, and i replied, “yeah,” trying my hardest to sound normal, not wanting to raise any suspicion. just as i sent my message, a notification popped up on my phone—it was from jungwon: “you better not tell her anything.” my heart skipped a beat. i quickly typed back to yunjin, suggesting we meet up at a café, and to my surprise, she agreed without hesitation. i tried to convince myself that everything would be fine, but deep down, i knew things were far from okay.

i met up with yunjin at the café, but she immediately noticed the unease on my face. “is everything okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. i forced a smile and nodded. “yeah, i'm fine.” as we sat down at a table, i couldn't help but glance around, scanning the area for any sign of jungwon. my heart raced with each person who walked by, but there was no sign of him. little did i know, he was sitting just a few tables away, his face partially hidden by a cap and mask, watching me intently. i quickly shot yunjin a hand sign, signaling for help. without hesitation, she caught on, her eyes widening in realization. she subtly nodded, ready to act.

i leaned in closer to yunjin, lowering my voice as i whispered, “yunjin, something’s going on. jungwon... he's been following me. i think he might be watching us right now.” at first, she looked at me skeptically, clearly thinking i was overreacting. but when i pulled up my texts with jungwon, her face instantly shifted from doubt to disbelief. she read through the messages, her eyes widening as she processed the situation. “oh my god, y/n... this is... this is serious,” she muttered. without hesitation, she grabbed my hand. “come with me. you can stay at my place tonight, okay? it’s not safe for you alone right now.” i nodded, relieved to have her support. as we quietly exited the café, i couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching us. what i didn’t know was that jungwon was still there, silently listening, his eyes never leaving us as we left.

chapter 6

as yunjin and i made our way to her home, i couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being followed. i kept glancing over my shoulder, but i never saw anyone suspicious. we entered the house, and yunjin reassured me, “you can rest in my room upstairs while i make some food.” grateful, i made my way upstairs and lay down on her bed, exhausted. the comfort of the space allowed me to finally relax, and before i knew it, i had drifted off to sleep. but my rest was short-lived. i was jolted awake by the sound of something shattering downstairs—then a blood-curdling scream that sent a chill down my spine. my heart raced as panic set in. what was that? and who was screaming?

i rushed downstairs, panic flooding my veins. my heart stopped when i saw yunjin’s body on the kitchen floor, blood pooling around her lifeless form. i dropped to my knees beside her, desperately shaking her, pleading for her to wake up, but it was no use. she was gone. the sound of footsteps behind me made my blood run cold. a voice i knew all too well, cold and sinister, whispered, “there you are.” i turned to see jungwon standing there, his face expressionless. tears streamed down my face as i choked out, “how... how did you get inside?” he shrugged nonchalantly. “the backdoor was unlocked,” he said, as if it were nothing. fear surged through me, and without thinking, i bolted for the stairs, my only goal to get away. i slammed yunjin’s bedroom door behind me, locking it before scrambling into the closet. my hands trembled as i reached for my phone in my pocket, but it wasn’t there. i had left it downstairs, and now i was completely trapped.

jungwon's voice echoed through the room as he called for me, his tone cold and demanding. “i know you're there, y/n, open up!” his words were followed by the sound of the door splintering as he broke it open with ease. i quickly pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. my heart was pounding in my chest as i heard his footsteps getting closer. “y/n, come out right now so that i don't have to make things harder for you than it already is,” he said, his voice dripping with menace. the implication was clear: i had broken the one rule he had given me—don’t tell anyone. and now, it seemed like there would be consequences for my disobedience.

i thought i had a chance to escape when i heard the sound of jungwon's footsteps fading away, and for a moment, i dared to believe he was gone. quietly, i stepped out of the closet, my heart still racing, but as soon as i turned around, i felt a sharp force slam into me from behind. i gasped as jungwon tackled me to the ground, his weight pressing me into the floor. “found you, cutie!” he said, his voice laced with a twisted satisfaction as he pinned my arms above my head. tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as i struggled beneath him, not knowing what to say or how to stop him. he noticed my tears and smirked, his grip tightening. “why are you crying, cutie? i thought you liked me? no, loved me? i love seeing your instagram account and all the posts you make of me!” his words sent a chill down my spine, and i felt trapped, unable to escape his suffocating grasp.

i could barely catch my breath, my chest tight with fear and confusion as i looked up at him. “why... why are you doing this?” i asked, my voice shaking. his gaze softened for a split second before his lips curled into a grin. “do you not remember what i told you before?” he replied, his tone almost patronizing, as if i were missing the simplest truth. “i'm doing this because i love you. you've been a fan of me ever since i debuted, but now... let me be a fan of yours.” his words hung in the air, heavy with madness. he truly believed this was love.

i could barely form the words as the dread slowly crept into my mind. “but how will you hide all of this?” i asked, my voice barely above a whisper. jungwon’s smile didn't falter as he leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “don’t worry about that, cutie,” he said, his tone dark and reassuring at the same time. “i’ve always been good at keeping secrets. and no one will ever know about us.” his hand brushed against my cheek, sending a chill down my spine. “you’re mine now, and that’s all that matters.”

i asked jungwon what he was going to do with me. i then felt a shiver run down my spine as jungwon spoke, his tone dripping with menace. “well, we can do this the easy way,” he said, his voice low and husky. “i can take a shower to get all this blood off me, and change. maybe we can shower together... and we can walk together to my dorm! or… we can do this the hard way…” he paused for dramatic effect before pulling out a syringe from his pocket. the needle glinted in the dim light of the room, its presence seeming to draw all attention away from anything else. i could feel my heart racing faster now, pounding in my chest like a drumbeat warning me of impending doom. jungwon's eyes seemed to gleam with excitement as he held up the syringe, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

chapter 7

as i agreed to jungwon's proposal, a little sense of relief washed over me. maybe this was the best way to get out of this situation without things escalating further. he disappeared downstairs for a few minutes, returning with a duffle bag filled with fresh clothes—including my own, which he must have taken from my hotel room earlier. we undressed in silence, avoiding his gaze. the air was thick with tension as i hesitated for a moment before moving towards the shower together. under the warm water, we stood side by side, our bodies inches apart but not touching as we rinsed off the sweat and grime of our ordeal. after jungwon and i showered together, we changed into the fresh clothes he had gotten for us.

me and jungwon then headed toward his dorm near my hotel, his hand gripping mine tightly the entire walk. i couldn't believe the whirlwind of emotions running through me—fear, confusion, and… love? a small part of me unwilling to admit that the boy i once admired had turned into this obsessive version of himself. jungwon, however, seemed completely at ease, smiling as if everything was normal. when we reached the building, he led me inside and took me to the top floor where his dorm was, his excitement almost childlike as he unlocked the door.

jungwon led me into his dorm, and the first thing i noticed was how clean and organized it was—almost too perfect, like he had been preparing for this moment. but then my eyes landed on it. right in front of his desk was a collage of pictures of me, carefully arranged, some with hearts drawn over them in red marker. my stomach twisted as i tried to process what i was seeing. “do you like it?” jungwon asked, his voice filled with anticipation. i couldn’t bring myself to respond, frozen in shock. sensing my hesitation, he added with a soft smile, “don’t worry, you’ll learn to love me soon.”

it had been a week since jungwon had held me captive in his dorm. every day felt like a surreal blur—he would feed me, shower with me, kiss me, as if we were a normal couple. but it wasn’t normal. none of this was. one afternoon, jungwon casually brought up how another picture of us had gone viral. “it’s the one from when i was bringing you here,” he said with a proud smile. i froze. i had no idea about it—my phone had been left behind at yunjin’s house… or so i thought. but then i realized. jungwon must’ve taken it from me, keeping it hidden this entire time.

i quietly nodded to him, not daring to say anything as he pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me on the couch. his touch was gentle, but it only made my skin crawl. jungwon grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, scrolling through until he found a cheesy romantic movie. “this one’s perfect for us,” he said softly, pressing play. i sat there, trapped in his embrace, forcing myself to stay calm while the cheerful music and over-the-top love scenes played on the screen.

jungwon’s eyes kept drifting to me every few minutes, and i tried my best to focus on the movie, pretending i didn’t notice. but when i finally caught him staring, he smirked. “you know,” he said, his tone playful yet unsettling, “we should recreate some of these scenes.” his eyes flicked to the screen just as a kiss scene transitioned into something steamier, his words making my heart race for all the wrong reasons. i looked away quickly, feeling my face heat up, unsure of what to say or do.

i felt my face heat up, flustered by his words. i mean, yeah, we’ve showered together and done things i never thought i’d do with someone, but this love—if i could even call it that—was so clearly forced. literally. yet, deep down, a part of me liked it. i’d always longed for a love like this... kind of. someone so devoted to me, even if it came with strings tied too tight. but at the same time, i knew i had to comply—i didn’t want to risk getting on jungwon’s bad side.

chapter 8 (smut)

jungwon noticed my flustered state, his eyes glinting with amusement. “you're so cute when you're like that,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. before i could respond, he gently turned my head, his hand resting on my cheek. his lips brushed against mine, soft at first, but then more insistent as he kissed me deeper. i widened my eyes in shock, my heart racing, but as the kiss continued, i couldn't help but slowly melt into it. a mix of confusion and desire swirled inside me—this love felt forced, yet there was a part of me that craved it, even if i wasn’t sure why.

the kiss deepened, becoming more intimate, just like the scene from the movie we were watching. jungwon’s hands were firm as they guided me, and before i could fully process it, he pushed me down onto the couch, his lips never leaving mine. my heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and something else i couldn’t quite name. it felt like the world around us had disappeared, leaving only the weight of his presence and the intensity of his kiss. i didn’t know how to respond, but i couldn’t pull away either.

jungwon's strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly off the couch. he carried me across the room, his grip tight and secure on my body. with a soft thud, he dropped me onto his bed—the mattress dipping under my weight. before i could even catch my breath, jungwon was on top of me again, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss that left me dizzy with desire. his mouth moved down to claim other territories too—tracing the curve of my neck with gentle kisses that sent shivers down my spine.

jungwon's lips trailed down my neck, feeling his teeth grazing lightly over my pulse point. my skin tingled wherever he touched, and i found myself arching into him instinctively. his hands roamed freely over my body, exploring every curve and dip, sending sparks of pleasure through me. i could feel his hardness pressing against me, and i knew he was ready to take things further. jungwon's mouth moved back up to mine, claiming it with a possessive kiss that left me breathless.

with a swift motion, jungwon undressed us both, revealing our bodies to each other in the dimly lit room. i felt a flutter in my chest as i caught a glimpse of his erect member before quickly looking away, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. but jungwon's eyes were already on me, drinking in the sight of my wetness. he let out a low chuckle, his voice husky with desire as he whispered “aww, my cutie is so wet for me already.”

jungwon's fingers spread my legs apart, and i felt his hardness pressing against me. he aligned himself at my entrance, his eyes locked on mine with a gentle intensity. slowly, he began to enter me, the sensation of him pushing inside causing a sharp jolt of pain. but jungwon's grip on my hips was firm, holding me in place as he whispered reassurances in my ear—“don't worry, it'll be okay”—his words muffled by the soft kisses he planted on my skin. as he finally slipped inside me fully, i felt a sense of relief wash over me along with a thrill of excitement.

jungwon's slow, gentle movements at first had me whimpering softly into his ear, the sensation of him filling and emptying me sending shivers down my spine. but as he picked up pace, his strokes becoming more urgent and demanding, i found myself moaning louder with each passing moment. the sound of my own voice was a distant echo in my mind as jungwon's body moved against mine in a primal rhythm. my hips began to move instinctively in time with his, our bodies moving together like two pieces of a puzzle that were meant to fit perfectly.

jungwon's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more forceful and insistent. i felt myself building towards a climax, my body tense with anticipation. “i'm close,” i whispered urgently into jungwon's ear, but he just smiled mischievously and told me to wait. “tell me who you belong to first, then you can come,” he said, his voice low and commanding. i hesitated for a moment before chanting his name like a mantra—“jungwon- ah! jungwon!”—the words echoing through my mind as i surrendered to the pleasure.

as i continued to chant jungwon's name, he finally relented, allowing me to release the pent-up tension and come undone. my body convulsed around him as i screamed out his name, my orgasm washing over me like a wave. jungwon's eyes locked onto mine, his face twisted in pleasure as he told me he was close too. and then, with one final thrust, he came inside of me, his seed filling me up and spilling out onto the sheets.

after his release, jungwon carefully got up and began to clean me up, his gentle touch a soothing balm to my still-sensitive skin. he wiped away the evidence of our passion, taking care of every inch of me with a tenderness that left me feeling cherished. once i was clean and comfortable, he slipped on his boxers and put on his shirt, but instead of putting it back on himself, he put it on me—the oversized shirt making me feel comfortable. we cuddled together under the covers, our bodies still entwined from our lovemaking. as we drifted off to sleep, i felt safe and content in jungwon's arms.

[writingforstraykids]

Okiee,

Hear me out. Need more dad skz series. I loved the Felix one so much 🤗🤗 Maybe Hyun or Minho as single dad series 🥹

🧚‍♀️ Anon

I don't know why but Minho with a toddler sent our thoughts spiraling and @galaxycatdrawz and I came up with enough for a proper series. I hope you enjoy it dear🤭🖤

Always back to you

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 7716

Summary: Balancing his career and personal life as a single dad of a toddler isn't exactly always easy for Min. Luckily he has you, his assistant and the only person his son lets close enough. Minho couldn't be more grateful for your presence in their life.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst

PART TWO

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The summer air is heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine as Minho walks hand in hand with his son Minjun through the bustling streets of their quiet neighborhood. The day is fading into a warm, golden evening, casting long shadows on the sidewalk as they make their way to the local park.

Minho, usually surrounded by stage lights and the constant hum of a lively crowd, cherished these moments of normalcy. His career often pulled him into whirlwinds of tours and interviews, making these quiet, uninterrupted days with Minjun so much more important and special.

As they approach the park, Minjun’s grip tightens with excitement, his little legs speeding towards the familiar rusty swings and the slightly chipped slide he claims as his castle. Minho watches, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as Minjun throws himself into the simple joy of play. His son's laughter rings clear, blending seamlessly with the distant sounds of other children.

“Daddy, come!” Minjun calls out, tugging at Minho’s jeans, pulling him towards the sandbox.

Minho sits down beside Minjun, rolling up his sleeves and helping him dig and mold the damp sand. They work together, Minho guiding Minjun’s small hands to shape the walls and towers. He listens intently as Minjun explains the details of each tower and the imagined dragons that would guard them.

“Daddy, dragons need names!” Minjun declares, his brow furrowed in the serious concentration of a three-year-old.

“How about Flame and Spark?” Minho suggests, watching as Minjun’s face lights up with approval.

“Yes!” Minjun beams, his hands moving with purpose as he places tiny sticks to represent the fearsome dragons.

As they played, Minho felt the weight of his other world—the stage, the lights, the music—melt away. Here, in the sandbox, none of that existed. There were no cameras, no managers, no fans. Just him and Minjun, building a sand fortress strong enough to withstand any siege, imaginary or otherwise.

After their castle was deemed sufficiently dragon-guarded, Minjun tugs at Minho’s hand, leading him to the ice cream stand nestled at the corner of the park. The line is short, and soon Minjun is proudly holding a cone much too big for him, dripping chocolate down his arm.

“Look, Daddy! It’s melting!” Minjun giggles, licking his arm in an attempt to catch the runaway ice cream.

Minho pulls out some napkins, cleaning up the sticky mess with a practiced hand. He watches Minjun attack the cone with a grin, chocolate smearing over his cheeks and nose.

“Is it good?” Minho asks, giggling, his heart swelling at the sight of such simple happiness.

“So good!” Minjun announces, offering Minho a taste. The ice cream is sweet, and the rich chocolate flavor is a perfect end to their day out.

They find a bench nearby. Minho listens as Minjun rambles on about the adventures of Flame and Spark, his imagination running wild. The park begins to empty as families head home for dinner, the sky painted in strokes of orange and pink. “Dumpling?” Minho asks softly, and his son looks up at him with big, brown eyes. “Daddy needs to work tomorrow again.”

“Daddy, why?” Minjun’s question comes softly, almost lost in the breeze.

Minho’s heart clenches. It is a question he dreads, knowing his answers might never fully satisfy the curiosity of a three-year-old. He pulls Minjun closer, holding him in a gentle embrace. “You know how Daddy dances and sings for many people?” Minho starts, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. Minjun nods, his eyes wide. “Well, sometimes Daddy has to go places so all those people can see him perform. But I always come back. Do you know why?” Minjun shakes his head, his eyes searching Minho’s. “Because you are my most important audience. And I promise, no matter where I go, I will always come back to you,” Minho says, his words heavy with the truth of his emotions.

Minjun seems to try and comprehend this for a moment, then smiles, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Promise?” he holds up his pinky.

“Promise,” Minho links his pinky with Minjun’s, sealing the vow. “Let's go home?”

“Home,” he nods satisfied.

Minho would've never had a child this young in this industry if he would've known what would happen. He and his wife got married rather young as well, soon deciding they'd like to have a kid. Mainly because she didn't want to be alone so much with him gone for work often. Everything seemed fine until it turned out they'd be having a boy and not a girl. His wife had wished for a girl dearly and seemed disappointed. Maybe he ignored how much because once their little wonder was there, his wife soon distanced herself from both of them. They were already in the process of getting a divorce when Minho had accidentally listened in to a phone call from her saying she'd probably give up their son for adoption.

Minho knew he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't risk his sweet baby ending up in a family that maybe wouldn't treat him well, so he had long talks with his friends, who promised to support him. Chan made sure to back him when they talked to their boss, making sure that Minjun could stay at the company or on tour. They all knew Minho would be able to focus on his work more, knowing he was within reach when his little boy needed him. The only issue at hand was how much Minjun dreaded being separated from Minho, barely trusting his friends to take care of him for a while.

That was until you came along. Somehow, you found a way to the little boy's heart that made him trust you. You were the only one besides Minho who could calm him down and keep him occupied. Initially, you've simply been Minho's assistant, helping him keep track of his schedule and everything. But being with Minho meant being with Minjun.

Through this, you grew rather close with all of them, becoming a vital part of their group. Minho was thankful to have you around, and you two worked well together. You love taking care of the little one and you would've never expected to get so close to them, especially Minho, seeing him during his rawest moments.

-

Minho is up early, as usual, feeling the quiet anticipation that always comes with a new day. Today, he'd take Minjun with him to dance practice.

The morning was a rush of activity. Minho prepared a quick breakfast, all the while keeping one eye on Minjun, who seemed happy about accompanying him to work.

"Are you ready, baby?" Minho asked, slipping on Minjun's small backpack filled with snacks, a change of clothes, and, of course, his favorite bunny plushie. Jisung had bought it for Minjun's second birthday and he hasn't left the house without it ever since.

"Yes, Daddy!" Minjun chirps, practically bouncing on his toes. His enthusiasm is infectious, and Minho can't help but laugh as he scoops up his son and heads out the door.

The drive to the studio is filled with Minjun's questions about everything he saw. Each question is punctuated with wide-eyed wonder, making Minho smile. He explains as much as he can, from the tallest buildings brushing the sky to the bustling morning crowds. Upon arriving at the studio, Minho sets Minjun down, taking his hand as they walk inside. The building was already buzzing with activity, music faintly echoing from the practice rooms.

"Guys, look who I brought!" Minho announces as they enter the main dance studio. The music stops abruptly, and the boys turn around, their faces lighting up at the sight of Minjun.

"Minjunnie!" Chan exclaims, his voice full of warmth. He crouches down to Minjun's level, greeting him with a gentle high-five. "Look how much you've grown already again!"

The other members crowd around, each taking turns to say hello. Felix shows Minjun a quick magic trick, pulling a coin from behind his ear, which delighted Minjun to no end. Hyunjin hands him a small package of his favorite gummy bears, and Innie helps open it.

“Y/nnie should be here soon,” Jisung tells them, glancing up from his phone.

Minjun peeks up at the sound of your name, bouncing excitedly. “Y/nnie?” he asks with wide eyes, turning to Minho.

“Yeah, Y/nnie will play with you,” he laughs at his son’s excitement.

“Gosh, he really loves him,” Seungmin laughs.

“As he should, Y/n is taking such good care of him,” Changbin chuckles, and Minho hums agreeingly.

Minho sets up a small, cozy corner for Minjun with some toys and a soft blanket. "You can play here while Daddy practices, okay? I'll check on you all the time."

Minjun nods, already distracted by the toys, but his eyes keep straying to the center of the room where the dance practice will take place.

You join them soon after, greeting them all with a wave. “Hi, buddy,” you greet Minjun cheerfully and sit down on his blanket next to him.

“Hi,” he smiles at you happily, handing you his fire truck. “Play?”

As the practice kicks off, Minho joins the rest of the group in the center. The music pounds through the speakers, a rhythmic base that fills the room with vibrant energy. Minho was in his element, his body moving with precision and grace, a testimony to years of practice and passion.

Minjun watches, wide-eyed, from his corner. The sight of his dad and the others dancing seemed to fascinate him. His little feet tap along to the beat, and it isn't long before he stands up, mimicking the moves in his own adorable way. He stumbles and lands on his butt, giggling at himself as you help him back up again.

“You're okay, dear?” you chuckle, and he nods.

Seeing this from the corner of his eye, Minho felt a surge of pride. During a brief water break, he walks over to you. "Do you want to try dancing with us for a bit?" he asks.

Minjun's enthusiastic "Yes!" was all the answer Minho needed. He leads Minjun to the center of the room, the members clearing some space for them. Minho shows him a simple move, a gentle sway combined with a clap. Minjun follows eagerly, his small body moving in sync with Minho's.

The room is soon filled with cheers and claps from the other members and you, encouraging Minjun, who beams under the attention. Chan turns down the music and suggests, "Let's do a little dance circle. Minjun can start!"

What followed was Minjun at the center, trying his best to keep up, his movements more enthusiastic than rhythmic. Each member joined in, adding their own moves, making it a fun, chaotic dance party that had Minjun laughing uncontrollably. You laugh watching them, seeing how much fun they have with the little boy.

After the dance circle wound down, Minho takes Minjun back to his corner, both panting slightly from the exertion. "You're amazing," Minho praises him softly.

“Takes after his Daddy as it seems,” you chuckle, and Minho smirks.

“My little dancer,” he smiles fondly, poking his son's cheek. Minjun's proud little smile is worth more than any applause Minho had ever received on stage.

You hand him the juice box Minho packed for him and help him with the straw. “Drink something,” you tell him gently, and Minjun does eagerly. You bite back a laugh at him, kicking his feet happily.

As the practice resumes, Minjun's energy eventually fades. He plays with you quietly with his toys, occasionally glancing up to watch his dad. The day passes in a blur of music, laughter, and dance. By the time practice wrapped up, Minjun was dozing off in his little corner, exhausted by the day's adventures. His head resting on your leg, breathing peacefully amidst the chaos. Minho carefully picks him up, his heart full as he feels Minjun's steady breath against his neck. “Thank you,” he smiles at you as you pack up everything for him and hand him the backpack.

“Of course,” you mirror his smile. “Tomorrow, we'll meet at the studio.”

“Yeah,” Minho nods. “When was it again?”

“At ten,” you tell him. “Do you need me to keep an eye on Minjun?”

“That would be great,” he nods gently.

“Okay, I'll be there,” you assure him, grabbing your jacket.

“Thank you,” he nods quickly.

“Mr. Lee - Minho,” you quickly correct yourself, sometimes still falling back into old habits. “You don't have to thank me all the time. It's fine.”

“Still,” Minho shakes his head. “It's a lot easier thanks to you…Do you need a ride home?”

“I'll be fine, thank you,” you assure him kindly. “You should get the little superstar to bed,” you say fondly, making Minho chuckle. You exchange your goodbyes before you both leave.

"Did you have fun today?" Minho whispers as he carries Minjun to the car.

"Mhm... best day," Minjun mumbles sleepily, his words slurring together.

Minho smiles, his eyes soft as he settles Minjun into the car seat. "Me too, buddy. Me too."

-

Minho's day starts early again, but this time there's a tangible buzz of excitement that courses through him. Today isn't just about dance practice; he's scheduled to record a new track with Chan, and he's bringing Minjun along to the studio once more. As they prepare to leave, Minho checks that he has everything Minjun might need—snacks, toys, and a little book of stories, just in case the session stretches longer than expected.

Minjun, now familiar with their routine, waddles around excitedly, chattering about seeing “uncle Channie” and the "music room."

The drive to the studio is filled with Minjun's usual observations, his voice a constant, cheerful hum in the background. Minho answers each question with patience, his mind simultaneously running through the lyrics and melodies he'll soon be recording.

Upon arrival, the studio feels like a second home. The familiar faces of the staff greet them warmly, and the scent of coffee mingles with the underlying electrical buzz of equipment. Chan is already there, headphones on, nodding along to some beat only he can hear. He lifts his head as Minho and Minjun enter, his face breaking into a wide grin.

"Look who's here! Hey, Minjun, high five!" Chan calls out, and Minjun rushes over, slapping his palm against Chan's outstretched hand. “How's my little Jiho?” he asks fondly and Minho smiles at the nickname Hyunjin had come up with, which stuck.

“Good,” the little boy nods happily.

Minho sets up Minjun's little corner, not far from the recording booth, where you're already waiting, having arrived a few minutes earlier. You have brought a new set of coloring pencils for Minjun, and he dives right into them with delight.

"Ready for a big day, Minjun?" you ask, helping him spread out his coloring sheets.

"Yes! Daddy sings, I draw!" Minjun declares, his focus intense as he selects a green pencil and starts scribbling. You chuckle softly, busying yourself as well by planning Minho's upcoming week.

Minho and Chan discuss the session with the producer, going over the song's structure and the tone they aim to capture.

As they start recording, Minho slips into the booth, the microphone in front of him a familiar friend. Outside the booth, you keep Minjun engaged, but his eyes often drift to his father, watching through the glass as Minho sings.

During playback, Minho steps out to listen, standing beside you and Minjun. He watches for Minjun's reaction, hoping to see a sign of approval. Minjun looks up, his eyes wide, and claps his small hands together.

"Daddy's song!" he exclaims, and Minho laughs, bending down to ruffle his hair.

"That's right, dumpling. Did you like it?" Minho asks.

"Love it, Daddy! You and uncle Channie sing nice!" Minjun responds, and Chan, overhearing, chuckles, giving Minho a pat on the back.

"It's a hit then, we have our toughest critic's approval," Chan jokes, making you all giggle.

The session continues, with Minho going back into the booth several times to refine his parts. Between takes, he checks on Minjun, always making sure he's happy and occupied. You seamlessly take care of Minjun, ensuring he's entertained but also quiet whenever the recording light is on.

As the afternoon goes on, the final parts of the track are recorded. With the professional part of his day winding down, Minho's attention fully returns to Minjun, who by now has created an impressive array of colorful drawings. "What do you say we show these to uncle Channie, huh?" Minho suggests, and Minjun nods enthusiastically, gathering his artwork.

Chan admires each drawing, making a big deal out of Minjun's artistic skills, which makes Minjun beam with pride. "We've got a future artist on our hands, Minho," Chan says, ruffling Minjun's hair.

"Maybe, but no matter what, I just want him to be happy," Minho replies, his voice soft, filled with love.

As the day comes to an end, you help pack up Minjun's things while Minho prepares to leave. He thanks you again, gratitude evident in his eyes. "Really, Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without your help," he admits.

"It's always a pleasure, Minho. Plus, I get to spend the day with this little guy," you say, tickling Minjun gently, pulling a giggle from him.

"Did you have fun today, Minjun?" he asks his son fondly.

"Yes, Daddy! Sing with uncle Channie again?" Minjun asks, his voice sleepy but happy.

"Absolutely, buddy. We'll come back soon," Minho promises, a smile crossing his face as he focuses back on the road.

One month later

Minho sits on the edge of the sofa, his tour outfit half-on, the rest laid out meticulously across the sofa. Minjun, sitting cross-legged with his blanket clutched tightly to his chest, watches his father with large, worried eyes. The tension between wanting to be there for his fans and needing to comfort his son gnaws at Minho, creating a knot of anxiety that settles heavily in his stomach.

“Buddy, you know Daddy has to go sing for all the people who came to see us tonight, right?” Minho’s voice is soft but carries an underlying note of apology. The stage was calling him, but his heart was anchored right there.

Minjun’s lips quiver as he shakes his head vehemently. “No, Daddy! Stay, please. Don’t go!” His voice breaks as he begins to sob, tears streaming down his cheeks. The sight tears through Minho’s heart like a dagger.

Kneeling in front of his son, Minho wipes away the tears with a gentle thumb, his own eyes misting over. “Oh, my little boy, I wish I could stay... But remember how we talked about Daddy’s job? How there are so many people waiting to hear our songs?” He tries to infuse some enthusiasm into his voice, hoping to sway his son’s mood.

But Minjun was unyielding. His small body trembles with sobs, each cry slicing through Minho’s resolve. “I want Daddy... no songs... stay... please…” His words are punctuated by hiccupping sobs, each plea making Minho’s heart sink more firmly to the ground.

“Minjun, I need you to be strong for Daddy now, yeah?” he asks, but his son shakes his head with a weak sound. Minho quickly finishes dressing, he could hear the distant echo of the others warming up. The show was imminent, his cue to leave fast approaching. He merely has an hour left.

“You'll join us for a last talk?” Jeongin asks, and Minho nods, scooping Minjun up and following him outside.

Chan talks them through the process once more, glancing at Minho, who's rocking his crying son in his arms. He can tell Minho is starting to get worried and stressed out by his son's discomfort. Which is bad because they need him tonight. It's the final concert of their tour, and this is important.

Minjun wails pathetically in his arms, and Minho closes his eyes in defeat for a moment, shaking his head. “Sorry, you guys keep talking,” he says, quickly leaving the room, not wanting to disturb them any longer.

Jisung watches them worriedly and glances at Chan. “You think Jiho will be okay before we start?” he asks.

“I doubt it. Min said he's having a rough day,” he shakes his head.

“Shit,” Seungmin breathes out. “We need him tonight, Channie hyung.”

“I know,” Chan nods. “We can't help much, we know how needy his baby boy gets sometimes. We can only make sure we're all ready.”

-

Minho paces through the room, gently rocking his little boy in his arms as he talks soothingly to him. His son seemed to have realized he wouldn't see him for the next two hours, which must've caused the sudden mood swings. Minho is starting to feel stressed, glancing at the clock up at the wall and realizing he'd have to be on stage in ten minutes. He should be preparing himself mentally right now, getting a moment of peace before their intense evening. But he isn't relaxed or calm at all. The sound of his son wailing in his arms is cutting through him like knives, knowing he'd have to leave him here in a bit. He knows his friends loved their little boy, but not when he was fussing around before a show, which is why he left their room a while ago. “Shh, dumpling, please,” he tries, soothingly rubbing his back. “It's okay, yeah?”

Minjun responds with another sob, his little hand clinging to his shirt. Minho's sure his stage outfit will be stained with drool and tears later, and he feels his throat tighten as his exhaustion and frustration take over for a moment. His body will be exhausted before performing after pacing for almost an hour, carrying his son, who's only growing heavier. “Please,” he whines, knowing his own distress isn't exactly calming his baby boy.

The door opens, and Changbin shoots him an apologizing look. “Min, we should leave.”

“I know, I'll be right there,” he tells him, flashing him a stressed, weak smile.

“Two minutes,” he reminds him and leaves again.

“Please stop crying, Minjun, please,” he begs, feeling tears burn in his eyes.

The two minutes are over way too soon, and Chan opens the door this time. “Min, I'm sorry. We should go,” he tells him.

“I know, okay?!” he snaps at him, his emotions getting the better of him. “I didn't choose this, Chan, but I can't just leave him here either! I can't leave him at the hotel for that long, he's too young!”

Chan lifts his hands in an attempt to show him he's not here to pick a fight. “Min, I know, I know it's shit,” he tells him soothingly. “We can start five minutes later, but you need to get ready,” he says gently, stepping closer. “Let me take him for a moment, yeah? You should change your shirt and let someone fix your hair real quick. Come here, Jiho, hm?” Minho reluctantly lets go of him and flinches heavily as the cries of his son grow louder. He looks at Chan with tears in his eyes, who gently rocks the little one in his arms. “It's okay, Minnie, go on,” he tells him kindly. “He'll be okay.”

Minho fights with himself for a moment before leaving the room. His friends look at him compassionately as he passes them, and Felix follows him into their dressing room. He takes over for their stylist, helping Minho change his shirt and gently smoothing out his hair. “Take a deep breath, yeah?” he says gently, and Minho nods, doing as he's told. “Y/n will be here in a few minutes.”

Minho frowns at him. “No, Yongbokie, it's his day off,” he shakes his head.

“He's the only one your son accepts besides you. Chan called him a bit ago,” Felix tells him and soothingly rubs his shoulders.

Chan joins them with an apologizing look and a screaming Minjun. “He started kicking,” he tells him, and Minho closes his eyes in defeat, taking him again.

“I'm sorry,” Minho says, voice quivering as it all gets a little too much to handle. “I'm so sorry. I didn't want this, not like that.”

“We know,” Chan assures him kindly. “But we also know why you decided to pull through with this.”

Minho fights back tears, shakily rubbing his temple with one hand. He's starting to get a headache, and honestly, he just wants to go back home. “But-I know it's all getting too much,” he says shakily. “He's so clingy I can't go anywhere, and he's crying as soon as I'm gone. I know how annoying it is for you all, even if you try to hide it,” he says.

“That's your own worries speaking, hyung,” Felix assures him. “We love him, and yes, days like today are rough, but we know why you do it, and we promised to support you with it.”

“It's okay, I promise,” Chan adds gently.

You rip the door open, a little out of breath from rushing up the stairs. “I'm here, sorry, there was so much traffic!” you apologize and quickly make your way over. “You guys should go,” you urge them and gently ease Minjun out of Minho's arms. “Hiii, baby,” you say softly, smiling as the little one tiredly buries his face in your neck, hiccuping your name between broken little cries. You soothingly sway from side to side, rubbing his back and talking to him calmly. Your own calm demeanor does wonders for the little boy who grows still in your arms, little hand gripping your sweater as his body's shaking. You look up and notice Chan and Felix have left, but Minho's still here, staring at the two of you in wonder. You can spot the tears in his eyes and flash him an encouraging smile. “Go on, I got him.”

“Are you sure?” he asks nervously. “I know it's your day off.”

“I like taking care of him, it doesn't feel like work,” you assure him before glancing down at the sniffling boy in your arms. “We'll have so much fun, yeah? Your daddy has to work now, but I'm here,” you tell him and gently pat his back. “You want your plushie?” you ask and earn a weak little nod. “Go,” you whisper toward Minho, who gives himself a push. “Oh, look, here it is,” you say, handing Minjun his favorite plushie.

The boy pulls the fluffy bunny to his chest and cuddles into you. As the stage door clicks shut behind Minho, leaving the bustling sounds of the backstage crew prepping for the night's performance, the room he exits from fades to a quieter atmosphere.

The walk to the stage is the longest walk of his life. Each step echoes with Minjun’s sobs, and each beat of his heart synchronizes with the distant thumps of the bass drum from the stage. Behind the curtains, the crowd's roar is deafening, a stark contrast to the quiet, tearful goodbye he had just endured. Minho takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to gather his thoughts. Jisung gently takes his hand, Chan squeezes his shoulder, and Felix straightens his jacket. Minho's eyes flutter back open as the music starts, and he tries to push everything else away. He needs to focus.

You hold Minjun closer, feeling his little heart beating against your own. His sobs begin to subside, his breath evening out as he clutches his bunny tightly. The stuffed toy seems to offer him the comfort he seeks, his tiny fingers threading through its soft fur.

You rock gently, humming a tune that you've noticed often calms him down. The melody is simple yet soothing, and as you continue, Minjun's grip relaxes. His eyes, puffy and red from crying, start to close. It’s moments like these, where the world slows down, that remind you why you cherish your role so much—not just as a caregiver but as a steady presence in this little one's life. You would've never thought you'd enjoy looking after a kid this much.

Around you, the room is scattered with signs of Minho and his friends' hurried exit. Costumes hang on racks, makeup kits are left open, and a few sheets of music flutter slightly from a nearby air vent. It's a world of glamour and chaos mixed with those quiet moments you share with Minjun.

Minho’s life, a blend of public performances and private moments like these, paints a vivid picture of the sacrifices and joys of his career. As you adjust Minjun in your arms, preparing to sit down with him until he falls asleep, you think about the pressure Minho faces. It's not just about being a performer but also being a father and a friend—balancing each role under the watchful eyes of the public and his friends.

Outside, you hear the faint sound of the crowd, a rumbling wave of excitement for the show about to start. It's a sound you've grown accustomed to, down to the lights, music, and energy that Minho will soon be enveloped in. Yet here, in the quiet room with Minjun finally drifting to sleep, the noise seems worlds away.

Your thoughts drift to Minho and the stress practically dripping off his body. You understand his dilemma. Being a parent is challenging enough without the added pressures of a demanding career. Minho's struggle to maintain a semblance of normalcy for Minjun while meeting the expectations of his career is a tightrope walk that few can comprehend fully.

As Minjun's breaths deepen, indicating he's fallen asleep, you carefully adjust him on your chest. You ensure his favorite bunny is tucked beside him and gently pull a small blanket over his little body to keep him warm.

This tranquility is what you hope to provide for Minho as well—a sense of peace amidst the storm of his responsibilities. As the caregiver, your role extends beyond just watching over Minjun. It's about offering both father and son the assurance that they are not alone in this journey, and you can tell Minho needs it more with every passing day.

With Minjun settled, you step out of the room to catch a glimpse of the show on a monitor in the hallway. Minho is on stage now, his presence magnetic, pulling the audience into his performance. The contrast between the father you saw earlier and the performer now captivating the crowd is stark. Yet, it's this duality that defines him.

As you watch, you feel a sense of pride in Minho’s resilience and determination. It reinforces your commitment to support him in any way you can. When the show ends, you know he'll return, exhausted but fulfilled, eager to hear that Minjun was fine, that in his absence, everything was okay.

This is your world as much as it is theirs—a world of late nights and lullabies, of cheers and tears. It's a delicate balance. As the crowd’s applause echoes down the hallway, blending with the soft sounds of Minjun's peaceful sleep, you smile to yourself, ready for when Minho returns, ready to reassure him that everything is indeed fine.

Minho is the first one to return, a relieved smile covering his lips as he sees his son peacefully asleep on your chest. “You're an angel,” he breathes out, collapsing on the sofa next to you and gently fondling his son’s hair. “He didn't stop crying for an hour, I was about not to perform tonight.”

“All he needed was some peace and his favorite plushie,” you chuckle softly. “Also, he was very tired from all the crying, so that probably did the trick.”

Minho laughs weakly and shakes his head. “You handle him so much better than I do.”

“It's basically my job now,” you tell him. “Also, you were stressed and freaking out. He can sense that and it probably didn't help him calm down,” you say softly. “Not that it's your fault, everyone would have been.”

Minho hums gently and studies your face for a moment. He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to express how much it means to him to be able to trust someone with his little boy. “You know what he calls his favorite plushie?”

“He didn't tell me yet,” you shake your head, frowning at him curiously.

“He calls him Y/nnie,” he says with a tired smile, watching your expression change to one of surprise and joy. “You mean a lot to him, so I'm glad you don't mind taking care of him.”

“Oh,” you nod in surprise. “That's sweet.”

“I thought you'd like to know that,” Minho hums before pushing himself up. “I should go and take a shower. I'll come get him after.”

“No rush,” you assure him kindly.

The others are quiet whenever they have to get something in the room and leave quickly. Chan quietly thanks you for getting here on such short notice and saving the day, which you wave off with a gentle smile.

Minho shuffles back inside a little later, wearing a comfy sweater and matching sweatpants. His fluffy hair falls freely around his face. He grabs his bag from a chair and fumbles for his phone to call one of their drivers.

“I can take you back, I'm driving there anyway,” you tell him, and he drops his phone back into the bag with a thankful smile. “You got everything?” you ask, and Minho nods, grabbing his glasses from the table. He puts them on, running his hand through his hair tiredly, and makes his way back over to you.

Minho reaches for Minjun, craving to hold his little boy again, and gently lifts him up. Minjun stirs in his sleep, and Minho quickly nestles him against his chest, soothingly fondling his hair.

“Daddy,” he mumbles drowsily, little hand curling up against his neck.

“I'm here, baby,” he says softly and kisses his head. “Go back to sleep.”

The sight of Minho like this, looking so soft and vulnerable with his sweet boy resting against his chest stirs something in you you can't really explain. A sudden urge to take care of both of them overwhelms you, and your eyes trace Minho's features. You know he's pretty, he's a visual for a reason and still, you're stunned by how beautiful he gets in moments like these.

The door opens, and Minho turns a little, meeting Chan's caring expression with a tired smile. “Everything alright?” he checks in, making sure Minho is okay after this rough night.

“Yeah,” Minho assures him gently. “We're okay.”

“You did well today, Min,” Chan tells him warmly and gently squeezes his shoulder.

“Thanks, hyung,” he says genuinely.

“Thank you again, Y/n, I wouldn't have called if there had been another way,” Chan apologizes again.

“I know,” you assure him. “I didn't mind, if you need me, I'm here,” you tell them and get up.

“You should get some rest. Do you need a driver?” Chan asks, and Minho gently shakes his head.

“Y/nnie said he'd take us,” he tells him, and Chan hums agreeingly.

“Alright then,” Chan nods before grabbing his own things and waving goodbye.

Minho exhales softly and shifts on his feet, feeling the intensity of the concert creeping up on him. His legs hurt, and his arms are tired, but he doesn't want to let go of him yet. If someone asked him to go to sleep right here he could without a second thought. He carefully tilts his head and his neck cracks at the movement. For a second, pain tints his features, and you frown at him.

“You're okay?” you ask gently, already grabbing your stuff and his bag.

“Mhm,” he hums, gently swaying from side to side to keep Minjun asleep. “Just exhausted…and everything hurts.”

“You definitely need some rest,” you respond gently, adjusting his bag on your shoulder. “Let’s get you both home.”

Minho nods gratefully, his gaze lingering on Minjun’s peaceful face as they follow you out of the room. The walk to the car is quiet, with only the occasional whisper of wind and the distant sound of the city at night. Once Minho settles Minjun into the car seat, he collapses into the passenger seat with a sigh of relief.

The drive is smooth and uneventful. You keep the radio off, allowing the silence to settle comfortably around you, broken only by Minjun's gentle breathing in the backseat. Minho’s head leans against the window, eyes closed, but you can tell he isn’t really asleep; he is just resting, processing the day.

“Y/nnie,” Minho finally speaks, his voice quiet in the dark car. “I really can’t thank you enough. Not just for tonight, but for everything. You’ve become… a lot more than just an assistant to us.”

Your heart warms at his words, and you glance at him briefly before focusing back on the road. “I’m glad to be here, Minho. You and Minjun mean a lot to me, too.”

A small smile tugs at Minho’s lips. “I'm lucky to have you,” he murmurs, his voice laced with fatigue. You can't help the warmth spreading through you at his words. If there's one thing you've learned in the years of working for him, then it's that he’s completely honest when he's tired.

As you reach the hotel, you help him gather everything and support him as he carefully lifts Minjun, who mumbles sleepily but doesn’t wake. Minho leans against the wall of the elevator, eyes closed as he fights falling asleep on the spot. He readjusts his grip around Minjun, burying his nose in his hair, and breathes calmly.

You search for Minho's keycard for the room and gently guide him down the hallway, opening the door for him. You stop there, and Minho turns around inside, flashing you a tired smile. “Come in for a moment?” he asks gently.

“It's fine, really,” you assure him.

“Let me at least make you some tea, please?” he asks, and you can tell he's trying to give you something back for today. You can't deny him that.

“Okay,” you nod and step inside, pulling the door closed. You follow Minho inside, and he tells you to drop his bag somewhere next to the bed.

Minho carefully puts Minjun down, tucking him in. He smooths his hair back and plants a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, baby,” he whispers.

Minho quickly makes you both some tea and hands you a cup. “You should get some sleep too,” you suggest as you walk towards the small living room area, where Minho has slumped onto the couch.

“Just a few minutes,” Minho says, his eyes already closing. “I’m too tired to move.”

You sit down next to him and gently ease the cup from his hands, not wanting him to burn himself by accident. “Min,” you say gently as he tilts to the side, body growing heavy against you. “You should really get some sleep.”

“Thanks for tonight, Y/nnie,” Minho whispers as you give up the fight and let him rest his head on your shoulder.

“It’s no problem, really,” you reassure him. You pause, considering your next words. “Minho, you’re doing an amazing job with him. I hope you know that.”

Minho smiles weakly. “I’m trying. It’s hard to know if I’m doing enough, you know?”

“You are. More than enough,” you tell him kindly.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation... or maybe it’s more of an apology for tonight,” Minho mumbles sleepily.

“There's no need, I promise,” you tell him, but Minho shakes his head.

“I hate that my work pulls me away from Minjun,” he starts, his voice tinged with frustration. “And nights like tonight make it all feel ten times heavier. I worry about the effect it’s having on him.”

“You’re doing the best you can,” you reassure him. “And it’s clear to everyone, especially Minjun, how much you love him. He knows, Minho, how much you care.”

Minho nods, taking a deep breath. “Thanks, Y/nnie. I... sometimes I just need to hear that. It gets a bit overwhelming trying to balance everything. And tonight, seeing him so upset, I felt like I was failing him.”

“You’re not failing him,” you say firmly. “Every single time he looks at you, he does so with so much love. That’s not failure.”

Minho pulls back his head and looks at you drowsily, a sincere smile breaking through his exhaustion. “I’m really glad you’re here. Not just for Minjun, but for me too.”

“I told you the first day we met I'm here to make your life easier,” you tell him gently. “It doesn't matter if that's by planning your week or taking care of the little one.”

“He really loves you, I hope you know that,” he tells you and swallows at the joy in your eyes. “I… never mind,” he shakes his head and rubs his face tiredly, taking off his glasses. “I should get some sleep before I keep on rambling and keep you up.”

“You should,” you giggle. “I'll let myself out.”

“Goodnight, Y/nnie,” he says softly.

“Goodnight, Minho,” you say and decide it's your time to leave.

Minho drags himself to bed, crawling under the covers and joining his baby. He smiles as Minjun wakes up and crawls on his chest, getting comfortable there.

“Missed you, daddy,” he says softly.

“Missed you too, dumpling,” he says fondly and kisses his head. “Let's sleep now, yeah?” he asks, already drifting off to sleep.

“Y/nnie?” he asks.

“Y/nnie's in his room,” Minho answers and squints at him as his son shuffles off him and searches the bed. “Minjunnie,” he groans softly and turns onto his side.

His son makes a succeeding noise and shoves his little bunny into Minho's face. “Y/nnie!”

“Oh, I should've known that,” he laughs at himself before pulling him into a hug. “Come here now, yeah? Daddy's tired, baby.”

“Story?” he asks and Minho closes his eyes in defeat at the soft, tiny voice of his son.

“There once was a little boy. He was really tired, and his daddy was also very tired. They went to bed. The little boy fell asleep. The end,” he says and Minjun makes a protesting little noise.

“Stupid, daddy,” he laughs.

“Yeah, stupid,” he giggles and plants a few kisses all over his son's adorable little face.

“Story, please?” he giggles, scrunching his little nose at his father's sudden love attack.

Minho smiles, his exhaustion seeping away slightly in the joy of the moment. "Alright, my love, one story, but then it's really time to sleep," he says, adjusting himself so Minjun is comfortably nestled against his side, their heads sharing a pillow.

"Okay, daddy," Minjun agrees eagerly, his eyes wide with the anticipation of a bedtime story.

"Once upon a time," Minho begins, his voice soft and melodious, perfect for a bedtime tale, "in a faraway land, there was a brave little knight named Minjun."

"Like me!" Minjun interrupts with a giggle, his small fingers playing with Minho's hand.

"Yes, just like you," Minho confirms with a grin. "Minjun was the bravest knight in all the lands, and he had a magical friend, a dragon named Sparky."

"Dragon!" Minjun exclaims, delighted. "Does he breathe fire?"

"He does," Minho nods, "but Sparky only breathes fire when he needs to protect the kingdom. Most of the time, he's very gentle and loves to play."

Minjun listens intently, his imagination painting the scenes as his father describes them. "One day," Minho continues, "the kingdom faced great danger. A mysterious fog covered the land, making everyone feel very sleepy and lazy."

“What's fog, daddy?” he asks, his voice sounding a little sleepy by now.

“You know when it's cold, or it rains, and the air is all gray and heavy?” he asks, and Minjun nods.

“Fog is stupid,” he declares, making Minho bite back a laugh.

"So no one wanted to play or work," Minho adds, noticing Minjun's concerned frown. "Minjun and Sparky had to find the cause of the fog and save the kingdom."

"How did they do it?" Minjun asks, his voice filled with worry for the characters.

"Well," Minho says, drawing out the suspense, "they went on a grand adventure. They traveled through the Enchanted Forest, across the Silver Mountains, and finally to Crystal Lake, where the fog was thickest. They found out that the fog came from a sleeping spell by a lonely wizard who just wanted some friends," Minho explains. "Minjun offered to be the wizard's friend if he would lift the spell."

"Did he do it?" Minjun's eyes are hopeful, his small body tense with excitement.

"Yes, he did," Minho smiles. "The wizard was so happy to have a friend that he not only lifted the spell but also promised to use his magic for good. Together, they returned to the kingdom, heroes who had saved the day."

Minjun yawns, snuggling closer to his father, his eyelids heavy. "I like Minjun. He's nice," he mumbles sleepily.

"He is," Minho agrees, his voice a whisper now. "Just like you, my brave little boy."

As Minjun's breaths even out into the steady rhythm of sleep, Minho continues to hold him close. The story's end morphs into a quiet night. He lies there in the darkness, feeling the weight of his son's trust and love, anchoring him more firmly than anything else could.

In the silence of the room, with Minjun's soft snores as the only sound, Minho reflects on the day. The responsibilities of his career, the bright lights of the stage, and the cheers of the crowd—all of it fades into the background when contrasted with the peaceful, sleeping form of his son. Here, in the dim glow of the nightlight, Minho finds his truest joy.

He whispers a promise into the darkness, a vow to always return to this, to Minjun, no matter where his life takes him. "Always back to you," he murmurs, gently kissing Minjun's forehead. With that promise cradling his heart, Minho allows himself to drift off to sleep.

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @zehina @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @kevcanwait @queer-possum

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Idk if this has been asked before but is CT:OS a standalone game or will there be sequels?

Haha. It absolutely depends on whether I can continue writing interactive fiction for the next 2 years, 4 years, or way more. Finances and whether I end up writing full-time somehow are a big factor, as is interest/burn out :)

If I've only got another 2 years in me, likely CT:OS is a stand-alone game.

If I've got 4 years, probably substantial DLC content using some of the ideas in PT:OS (below) but I've got so many other games/plots I want to try my hand at.

If I've got way more years in me... definitely a CT:OS sequel (or two, to be exact). TLDR above the cut, long ramble below the cut.

Pro Tennis: Origin Story

Where MC is 4 or so years out of college, has turned pro, and has risen slowly, painstakingly through the challenger tour ranks, and is now trying to break into the Top 50. At their age, it's probably a make-it or break-it period, as if they don't succeed then, they'll probably never succeed.

While CT:OS is about found family and coming of age and pursuing one's dreams, which I love, I'd want PT:OS to be about losing faith in one's dreams or one's talent, wondering if their sacrifices are worth it, wondering if one's actually good enough (or crazy enough), building a family of people who are firmly in your player's box (who has faith in you even when you don't have faith in yourself.)

More about PT:OS

Choose what happened to their relationships after college and after the first couple of years on tour (I love writing exes: e.g. broke up in college or breaking up fresh out of college cause the tennis road-life/ambition etc. killed the relationship)

Additional stats to balance like money/sponsorships/media presence/fame, and just... normal adult struggles like cooking for yourself, doing your own laundry, booking your hotel rooms, making ends meet (see elaboration below)

I want to write a story about being in a long dark tunnel, wondering if one should keep pushing, keep grinding, keep sacrificing their life and youth and sanity and relationships for this insane dream of being a tennis player

I'd probably keep the original cast of ROs, but introduce maybe 2 more? Perhaps a celebrity e.g. actor/musician (we all know how those love to flock around tennis players, but only famous ones), and maybe one's coach for spiciness?

As someone whose favourite part of Challengers was not, in fact, Zendaya's hotness (gasp, blasphemy) and instead, the scene where Patrick Zweig's character is struggling to find a hotel room for the night & starving & desperate for calories, I really want to make a game where the player not only has to deal with playing tennis, but also all the other practical life bits that need to align in order for a Top 200 or Top 100 player to become a Top 50 player.

Like yes, there's the Nadals and the Williams sisters and even the Nishikoris (who never quite lived up to their potential) but what of the players whose names you've never even heard of?

I'm interested in class (how only rich people get to tough it out / stick it out for years without significant sponsorships) and also race/gender/sexuality and how that coalesces with finances and media presence etc.. and also how mediocre players scrounge together a team to support them, plus of course the emotional toll of always being on the road (and always being exhausted) without ever seeing much of a pay-off until they crack some invisible threshold of 'greatness'.

Finally, the trilogy would probably be rounded out with a final game.

Third game (no idea what the name would be)

MC is older, maybe 30? And has suffered some career-ending event (injury, horrific tailspin drop-off) after winning a grand slam, perhaps seeking one final shot at proving to the world that they do have what it takes to be a champion, a legend to be remembered as someone who isn't just a one-slam pony.

Themes explored would be:

Age (when is it too late to hang up one's boots?) and still feeling like you've got what it takes even though the world's telling you you're past your prime, the limits of physicality

Trying to rebuild something that has been broken, when everyone's telling you that it'll never be fixed

Leaving a legacy, fame, self-worth (figuring out what to do when one is stripped of something that has been a guiding star)

Maybe even addiction?

<This would be the game that would be most heavily inspired by Carrie Soto>

If you read all of that, wow, I'm impressed, and yep, that's what I'd foresee for CT:OS. A trilogy, if I've got it in me.

RO speculations:

Tobin could even become one's physical trainer or nutritionist/physiotherapist, though maybe that's a bit of a stretch.

Sam could become world's most biased sports podcaster/journalist

Rayyan continues as MC's rival/(possible lover)

G is ... still adamantly Not Part of the Tennis World even though they attend every game?

What do you guys think?

[p0orbaby]

Why Do I Give You the Worst of Me (1)

summary: love and bad decisions collide as you struggle to balance a tour and a relationship that’s spiraling out of control

warnings: 18+ adult themes throughout

a/n: another series i’m hoping i don’t regret committing myself to… not sure how many parts it’ll be, i don’t plan anything

word count: 3.1k

-

You wake up face-first on a sofa that smells like cigarettes, spilled beer, and faintly, vomit. Not yours, you think. The synthetic fabric is scratchy against your cheek, and when you open your eyes, it takes a moment to realise it’s morning—sunlight cutting through the cracked blinds, striping the floor with dusty light. The sofa is mustard yellow, ugly in a deliberate, trying-too-hard-to-be-retro way. It doesn’t belong to you. Nothing in this flat belongs to you.

There’s a girl in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she pours cereal into a bowl. You don’t know her name, but you know she wears Chanel No. 5 because it’s all you could smell last night when she leaned too close, whispering something you didn’t quite catch. Her hair’s a mess now—like spun gold caught in a tangle of barbed wire—but her makeup is still pristine. She’s the kind who sets her eyeliner with setting spray before going out, even if it’s just to the pub. You admire the commitment, if not the execution.

Your head throbs—a deep, insistent ache behind your eyes that reminds you of last night in bits and pieces: the gig (decent, though the sound guy fucked up your monitor levels), the afterparty (loud, sweaty, a haze of bodies and smoke), the lines of coke on a chipped coffee table, the bartender who kept giving you free shots because he recognised you from that NME interview last month. At some point, someone tried to fight you, though you’re not sure why. You vaguely remember smashing a bottle of tequila against a wall and laughing as glass shards rained down like confetti.

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling, which is peeling in a way that suggests years of neglect, a building held together more by stubbornness than actual structural integrity. There’s a stain in the corner that looks suspiciously like mould, but you don’t care enough to investigate. The flat isn’t yours, after all. You were invited here by someone whose name escapes you now—a bassist from another band, or maybe it was their girlfriend? They’re gone this morning, anyway, leaving behind only the detritus of a night well-lived: empty bottles, crushed cigarette packets, a single black stiletto abandoned near the door like a fairy-tale gone wrong.

You light a cigarette, despite the pounding in your head and the fact that you’re pretty sure it’s technically illegal to smoke indoors here. The girl in the kitchen glances at you but doesn’t say anything. You’re not sure if she’s annoyed or indifferent; you don’t care. The smoke curls lazily toward the ceiling, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the quiet. Mornings like this are rare—where everything is still and soft, where the chaos of your life is temporarily held at bay by the thin walls of someone else’s flat.

Your bass is propped up against the armchair, scratched and battered in a way that tells a story if you care to look closely enough. It’s a Fender Precision, black with a white pickguard, the same model Sid Vicious used to play—not that you’d ever admit that’s why you bought it. The neck has a gouge near the third fret from when you threw it at a sound tech who deserved it (and missed). The strap is leather, worn smooth where it rests on your shoulder, and the bridge still has flecks of blood from the time you played so hard your fingers split open mid-song. You keep meaning to clean it, but you never do.

You check your phone, which is cracked and sticky with something you don’t want to identify. No new messages, except for a text from your drummer that reads: “u alive?” You don’t bother replying.

-

You’ve been in the band for five years now, though it feels longer. It started as a joke—a group of friends fucking around in someone’s garage, trying to see who could play the loudest, the fastest, the most obnoxious. Somewhere along the way, it became serious. There was a DIY EP, recorded in one manic weekend on borrowed gear, and a string of gigs in dingy pubs where the audiences were more interested in drinking than listening. Then came the break—a slot supporting a bigger band, one of those industry darlings who’d already started to hate themselves for selling out. The kind of band that wears matching outfits ironically, even though everyone knows it’s not ironic at all.

Now, you play sold-out shows to crowds who scream your lyrics back at you, though most of them probably couldn’t name your second album. Your face has been on the cover of Kerrang! twice, though you didn’t bother reading the articles. You hate interviews, but you do them anyway because your manager insists. You’re better at the photoshoots—smirking at the camera in a way that suggests you don’t care (you do).

The band is your life, though you wouldn’t call it that. Calling it your life makes it sound like you have some sort of plan, and you don’t. You’re just here, playing gigs and writing songs and doing whatever it takes to keep the wheels from falling off.

Your bandmates are a mixed bag of personalities, each one a walking caricature in their own way. There’s Matt, the drummer, who swears he’s been abducted by aliens and won’t shut up about it. Alex, the lead guitarist, is constantly high and insists on bringing his cat on tour, which you find deeply annoying. And then there’s Holly, the singer, who somehow manages to be both the most chaotic and the most responsible member of the group. She’s the one who organises rehearsals, books the studio time, and keeps you all from self-destructing entirely. You love her for it, even if you’d never say it out loud.

The girl in the kitchen finishes her cereal, rinses the bowl, and leaves without saying goodbye. You watch her go, not because you care but because there’s nothing else to do. When the door slams shut, the flat feels even smaller, like the walls are pressing in on you. You stub out your cigarette, grab your bass, and leave too.

-

Outside, London is already alive, though you wouldn’t call it awake. The streets are sticky from last night—spilled pints and kebab wrappers crushed into the pavement, cigarette butts floating in puddles of something that smells suspiciously like piss. The air has that distinct urban flavour: exhaust fumes mingling with fryer grease and the faint tang of wet concrete. You pull your leather jacket tighter around you, not because it’s cold (it is), but because it completes the look.

The jacket is vintage—or at least you tell people it is. In reality, you bought it at a high-street shop three years ago, and it’s held up surprisingly well, considering the abuse it’s endured. The lining is torn, the cuffs are frayed, and there’s a mysterious stain on the back you can’t quite place. But it’s yours, and it feels like armour. The boots, on the other hand, are real vintage: a pair of Dr Martens from the ‘90s you found in a thrift shop in Brighton. They’re scuffed to hell, and the left one squeaks when you walk, but you refuse to replace them because they’re authentic.

You head toward the Tube station, your bass slung over one shoulder like a soldier carrying a rifle. People stare, but only briefly. In London, no one has the energy to care for long. The morning commuters are a mix of suits and students, their faces blank, their eyes glazed over as they clutch takeaway coffees in one hand and their phones in the other. You feel out of place but also weirdly superior, like you’ve cracked some code they haven’t even realised exists yet.

You hop on the Northern line, ignoring the signs that politely request passengers to “refrain from eating or drinking.” You’re not eating or drinking, but you do pull out a cigarette, which is arguably worse. It’s a roll-up, so you convince yourself it doesn’t count. An old woman glares at you, clutching her handbag like she thinks you’re about to mug her. You offer her a crooked smile, which she does not return, and you put the cigarette back in your pocket because she reminds you of your nan.

The train screeches into motion, and you pull out your phone. The lock screen is a photo of your bass, which says a lot about you. There are a few notifications—mostly spam emails and an unread message from Holly: Rehearsal at 2. Don’t be late, dickhead.

You glance at the time. 11:47 a.m. Plenty of time.

-

The rehearsal space is in Camden, a dingy basement that smells of mildew and unwashed socks. The walls are lined with egg cartons painted black in a half-hearted attempt at soundproofing, and the floor is sticky for reasons you’d rather not think about. The room has seen better days—probably in the ‘80s, when it was still a nightclub and not a haven for struggling musicians. There’s a single fluorescent bulb overhead that flickers ominously, and a space heater in the corner that’s never worked.

Holly is already there when you arrive, tuning her guitar with the precision of someone who takes this far more seriously than you do. She’s wearing a denim jacket covered in patches for bands you’ve never heard of, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She looks up as you walk in, her expression equal parts exasperation and relief.

“Christ, you smell like an ashtray,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s called branding,” you reply, dropping your bass onto the floor with a thud.

Matt and Alex show up ten minutes later, looking even worse than you do. Matt has the kind of face that always looks slightly hungover, even when he’s not, and Alex is wearing the same shirt he wore yesterday, now with an impressive new stain across the front.

The rehearsal starts late, as it always does, and quickly descends into chaos. Matt insists on playing a drum solo during every song, despite the fact that no one asked for it. Alex keeps stopping mid-riff to check his phone, claiming he’s “waiting for an important call,” though everyone knows it’s just his dealer. Holly shouts at both of them until her voice cracks, then turns her frustration on you for being “completely fucking useless.” You take it in stride, plucking random notes on your bass and pretending to care.

-

At some point, Holly storms out, leaving the three of you to your own devices. Matt immediately pulls out a joint, which Alex lights with a lighter shaped like a naked woman. You lean back against the wall, your bass resting against your thigh, and watch as they argue over which fast-food place to hit up after rehearsal.

“McDonald’s is closer,” Alex says, taking a drag.

“But KFC’s got the gravy,” Matt counters, waving his arms for emphasis.

“It’s not even real gravy,” Alex snaps.

“None of it’s real,” you interject, flicking ash onto the floor. “We’re all just cogs in the capitalist machine.”

They stare at you for a moment, then go back to arguing.

-

By the time rehearsal ends, it’s dark outside. You pack up your gear, ignoring Holly’s death glare as she reminds you for the millionth time that you need to take this more seriously. You nod, mumble something about “artistic integrity,” and leave before she can yell at you again.

Back on the street, the air is crisp, the kind of cold that bites at your skin and makes you wish you’d brought a scarf. You light another cigarette, even though you’ve already smoked half a pack today, and head toward the pub.

The pub is your sanctuary, a place where time slows down and the only thing that matters is the next round. It’s a dive, the kind of place where the carpet sticks to your shoes and the jukebox is permanently stuck on a rotation of The Clash and The Smiths. You know the bartender by name, though you’re not sure if he knows yours.

You order a pint and settle into a corner booth, your bass case propped up beside you. The first sip is like a warm hug, washing away the stress of the day. You’re halfway through your second pint when you see her.

-

You don’t notice her at first. Not properly. She’s part of the blur—the dim bar lights catching on glasses, the low hum of half-drunken conversation, the vague sense that you’ve been here before even if you haven’t. She’s leaning against the counter, waiting for her drink, and it’s not until the bartender—a man whose name might be Pete but who you’re pretty sure is just “Oi, mate” to everyone who comes in—hands her a gin and tonic that you actually see her.

And it’s a gin and tonic. Not a lager, not a rum and coke, not something ironic like a snakebite or one of those craft beers with names like Hops and Robbers. It’s a G&T, clean and crisp, with a slice of lime balanced on the rim like it’s posing for a stock photo. The glass is crystal clear, and so are her nails—short, practical, painted the sort of soft pink that suggests she doesn’t chew them during stressful moments (unlike you). She takes the drink with both hands, like she’s steadying herself, and there’s something about that—the deliberateness of it—that hooks you.

You tell yourself you’re just looking because she’s there. Because it’s either her or the guy at the next table who’s been droning on about Bitcoin for twenty minutes straight. But it’s more than that. There’s a stillness to her, an odd kind of clarity that doesn’t fit in a place like this, like she’s wandered in from a parallel universe.

She turns slightly, and you catch her profile: sharp nose, strong jawline, cheekbones that could cut glass but probably wouldn’t because she seems far too polite. Her hair is blonde—not platinum, not peroxide, but the kind of natural gold that makes you think of expensive shampoo and childhood summers. It’s tied back loosely, wisps framing her face in a way that seems accidental but probably isn’t.

She’s not wearing makeup. Or maybe she is, but it’s the invisible kind—the kind that takes forty-five minutes to apply but looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed looking flawless. Her jumper is navy, oversized enough to suggest she might have nicked it from someone else’s wardrobe, paired with jeans that sit perfectly at her hips without being skinny. On her feet are white trainers—clean, like freshly ironed bedsheets—Adidas, the classic three stripes in black, laces tied neatly, no fraying ends.

You’re staring. You know you are. But she hasn’t noticed, so it doesn’t count.

The bartender mutters something to her, and she laughs. Not the loud, performative laugh you hear from most people in bars, but something softer, like it’s meant for her and her alone. The sound is so out of place in this dingy pub that it feels almost sacrilegious, like someone’s brought a cathedral choir to sing in a nightclub.

You tell yourself to look away. You don’t.

Instead, you light a cigarette, even though the pub is strictly non-smoking. You do it for the aesthetic, the same way you do most things. There’s a half-empty pint in front of you—lager, flat and warm, probably with someone else’s fingerprints on the glass—but you take a sip anyway, because what else are you going to do?

She turns then, her gaze sweeping the room, and you’re caught like a deer in headlights. For a second, you think she’s looking at you, but she’s not. She’s looking past you, at the dartboard on the wall behind your head. Her expression is curious, like she’s trying to figure out why anyone would bother playing darts in a place like this.

Then her eyes meet yours, and the world tilts.

It’s not love at first sight, not really. Love at first sight is for Disney films and Hallmark cards and people who shop at Waitrose without looking at the prices. This is something else. Recognition, maybe. Like you’ve seen her before in a dream or a half-remembered story someone told you once. Like you’ve spent your whole life waiting for this moment without knowing it.

She holds your gaze for a second longer than is polite. Then she looks away, back at her gin and tonic, and you realise you’ve been holding your breath.

-

You don’t approach her right away. That would be too obvious, too predictable. Instead, you wait, watching her out of the corner of your eye while pretending to scroll through your phone. It’s a shitty phone, cracked and outdated, but you’ve never bothered upgrading because you secretly enjoy the low expectations it sets. No one looks at you and expects success when your phone screen is held together with Sellotape.

She moves to a table in the corner, near the radiator, and sits down alone. No book, no laptop, no visible excuse to be here other than the gin and tonic in her hand. She sips it slowly, methodically, like she’s savouring it. Like she’s savouring this.

You wonder what her story is.

Is she waiting for someone? A friend, a boyfriend, a clandestine meeting with a lover? Or is she just one of those people who can sit alone in public without feeling like a target? You’ve never understood that kind of confidence—the kind that lets you exist without an audience, without a role to play.

You take another sip of your pint, then decide, fuck it.

You stand, grab your bass (because leaving it behind would feel like abandoning a child), and make your way across the room. Your boots squeak against the sticky floor, and you curse them under your breath. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing vaguely at the empty chair across from her.

She hesitates, just for a moment, then nods.

“Sure.”

Her voice is soft, but not shy. Measured. Like she’s weighing every word before she says it.

You sit, placing your bass case carefully against the table leg. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re not sure what to say, and she seems content to let the silence stretch. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but it’s not easy, either.

Finally, she breaks it.

“You’re in a band,” she says, nodding toward the bass. It’s not a question.

You smile. “Yeah. What gave it away?”

She raises an eyebrow, and you realise it’s a stupid question.

“What’s the band called?”

You tell her, and she nods, like she’s vaguely heard of it but couldn’t name a single song.

“I’m Alessia,” she says, holding out her hand. Her grip is firm, her skin warm.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, and for the first time in a long time, you actually mean it.

[thevoidstaredback]

Adventures In Gotham

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

The first time Danny had ever been to Gotham, he swore it would be his last. He was twenty-two at the time.

In an effort to relax after finals had ended, he, Tucker, Sam, Val, Wes, and Dani had been playing a round of Truth or Dare after finishing a few movies. Sam had dared Danny to wander around Gotham without attracting attention to himself. The catch was that he wasn't allowed to use his powers except to fly there and back. His time limit was Sunday night.

They'd all been planning to stay the night at Sam's anyway, so no one would even notice he was gone. Though, the dare had seemed easy at the time, Danny should've realized his luck was not that good.

Regardless, he flew to the outskirts of Gotham City, dropped his transformation, and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that there was some kind of bubble around Gotham preventing the Shades and overall feel of death from leaving. It was overwhelming at first, but he got used to it pretty quickly. The next thing he noticed was that he had walked into somebody's haunt.

Shit.

He made himself presentable and spoke to the night, "I apologise for trespassing," His voice echoed through the open area as though he was shouting in an empty room. Ghost Speak tended to do that. "I mean no hostile intentions. I simply wish to play a game with your protectors." With any luck, whoever this was would be playful or friendly, at the very least. He didn't hold his breath, though.

A lie. He was holding his breath, but that's only because he was nervous!

The night air stilled as though considering his words. Then, a breeze from behind pushed him further into the city. Flapping wings of bats and owls seemed to hide the whispers of "You may come in." and "Be careful." and "You will lose." and "Good luck.".

A vote of confidence from the City Spirit. "Thank you." He was going to be as quick as he could, but he couldn't draw attention to himself. Easier said than done. Batman seemed to know whenever anyone ever stepped foot into his city, especially if they've never been there before. So, he had to play hide and seek with Batman and Robin.

Again, easier said than done.

Danny knows very little about about Gotham and her heroes and villains. What he does know is that Robin is fairly knew to the scene, but also very serious in what he does. He's still a child, though, and he likes to play around a bit. Batman, on the other hand, has already become something of a cryptid, despite only showing himself a year or so ago. Either way, the two balance each other nicely and work well as a team.

Batman and Robin obviously know the entire city inside out, so Danny has to somehow keep an eye on where they are at all times while not drawing attention to himself. Which would be easy, except for the fact that Danny can only sense where non-living beings are. Batman and Robin are very much alive. He's pretty sure. Unless either of them have a shit ton of Shades attached to them, which is unlikely but not impossible, then he'll have to rely on finding them first and keeping them within his sight as he tours around their city.

Why the hell did he agree to this? He so deserves a reward if he succeeds.

'When', not 'if'. 'If' is pessimistic and implies that Batman might just drop him off a building and watch him fall. 'When' at least lets him continue with the illusion that he may get out of this no deader than when he arrived in Gotham.

All he had to do was basically tour the city, then he'll be done. It went well for the first hour, but then he spotted the shadows moving around him. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but one of those shadows was made out of bright colours. Seeing as his Ghost Sense didn't go off, Danny figured the he'd just run straight into Batman and Robin.

Shit. Fuck. Okay, play it cool, Danny.

He ran. He ran as fast as he could without using his powers. When he was sure he'd lost the two vigilanties, he allowed himself to stop in an alley somewhere in the Narrows. (The map he looked at was coming in very handy all of a sudden)

"Could be worse," he said to himself, backing into a corner.

The sound of shattering glass and the scurrying of mice and rats gave the impression of laughter and taunting. Which, rude, but fair.

"Your Knights, my lady," he spoke into the darkness, "are terrifying."

"Who you talking to?"

Danny did not jump. He didn't! Liar.

The kid, about twelve years old, was in bright green, red, and yellow. His hair windswept and he didn't seem even the slightest bit out of breath, let alone tired. Shouldn't he be in bed? Did he have a bedtime? He should have a bedtime, in Danny's expert opinion.

"Did you know that humans are endurance hunters?" Robin had been smiling since he dropped down in front of Danny. And if that wasn't a scary ass line to hear from a twelve year old up way past his bedtime-

No, he's not intimidated. "It's, um, a good thing I'm not completely human then, huh?" Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shut up, Danny! Stop talking! Right now!

This made Robin frown and the shadows started to move again, Batman taking his place just behind the boy. "What do you mean?"

Damn, he's scary! Danny's a sucker for a deep voice with a growl, damn.

"I, um," Intelligent response, Danny. King of the Realm Between Realms of Infinity. Keeper of Balance, Timeless Protector of the Dead and Living, and he can't even form a proper sentence.

Batman and Robin's stares were uncomfortably similar, even as Robin tilted his head ever so slightly to the right.

For all his wisdom, Danny couldn't see how he could manage to get out of this without using his powers. So, "Gottagobye!" he let intangibility and invisibility wash over him and he slipped through the wall behind him. From there, he let the rings of light cover him and he flew away.

He'll take the L. That was scary as hell!

The night wind brushed against him, the sound of breaking bones and cackling telling him to come by to play again some time. Had Gotham's City Spirit lead her Knight and his child to Danny? Probably. She seemed like the type. At least she seems to like him? Silver linings.

"I'm never going there again," he muttered halfway to Illinois.

Storyboard

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff @blueliac @i-love-mangoes @nymanders @highimpactemotions @anarinette @sleepingdead96 @orbr @tkiesai @atomicsheepscientist @8000fangirl @shower-phantom-ideas @blep-23

[gamora-borealis]

I think dan and phil are special but not because they are special people. like don't get me wrong, they are extremely talented and creative and funny and phil does seem to have inherited some kind of special intuition from his northern grandma but! there's a million other queer / neurodivergent people out there just like them... just as talented and intuitive or whatnot. what's special is that they were in the right place / right time to broadcast this unique kind of existence on a mass scale to a broad audience but more importantly a kindred audience. and they've kept it authentic by balancing their entertainment personas and working relationship with their real selves. It's like we've been watching a reality tv series about them for 15 years except they are the producers (who maybe exaggerate some things like producers do but, it's their own choices)... and they never meant for the show to make money but it did so yeah they need it to maintain their lifestyle now but in general their intentions are less clouded by clout or success compared to some influencers/creators out there. What's special is the insane parasocial relationship we have with them and they have with us that truly is a product of a specific context that I don't think will ever quite exist again. They learned from the first YouTubers and mastered the art form to the point where they are able to go on these huge tours that to this day no one can top because YouTube and the Internet have changed far too much with algorithms and advertising and etc. They are a testament to the lost dream of what the internet could be and a showcase of what can happen if you give gay dorks the perfect ingredients to build a media empire. and as a result we know them so intimately as they truly have been open about so much over 15 years and yet they've still kept so much private, to the point where there's still so much that people speculate on. It's like the perfect case study for Web 2.0 media produsage and digital community building amidst the decline of in-person connections because of the progression of capitalism... anyways if by chance there are any phannies getting degrees in media and communications and need help with paper topics and writing please hit me up I'm yearning for grad school again 😭

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assistant * Epilogue

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger, necophilia. These warnings are not exhaustive and some triggers may not be specified for plot reasons.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: We came back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

🖊🖊🖊

The red blaze sears into the large stone at the edge of the cliff. Clark huffs and reins in his fury, balling it up in his chest as he heaves. He blinks and looks up the burnt husk in his hand. Her body dangles from his grip, lifeless as what's left of her skull is a pile of ash on the ground. 

He drops her and recoils, grasping his skull as he snarls. Why did he do that? No! Why did she run? All these months, up here, living together, building their dream, and it ends in dust. 

He staggers and leans against a tree.  

He’s back in the office, hovering his fingers aimlessly over his keyboard, staring at a flashing cursor. Then he hears her voice. He didn’t know who she was then. Or what she was. His everything. 

He sees a hint of her pink plaid skirt as she passes by his office. She’s getting the tour. He stares for a moment then returns to his blank page. 

He can’t focus as he hears her muffled laugh. He sighs and grabs his cold mug. He takes it out into the hall and into the lounge. As he dumps it, he hears her getting closer. 

“And this is the kitchen, or lunch room, whatever,” Glenn explains. “And our star reporter, Clark Kent.” 

Clark looks over his shoulder as he rinses out his cup. He smiles and hesitates to get the quip out as he gets a look at her. Her eyes round in amazement at him. He can’t remember the last time his own wife looked at him like that. 

“I think you should reserve that for Lois,” he scoffs. Glenn chuckles in that bootlicker way. 

“Don’t let him be humble,” Glenn says then introduces her.  

She gives a small wave and a wiggle, “hi, Mr. Kent.” 

He smiles. He’s in love. 

He sits up suddenly and nearly lets out a wail to the trees. It’s those other voices that keep his muted. He closes his eyes and hangs his head back. Everything gone. Everything he sacrificed for her. 

His job, Lois, and his child. He saw it inside her. Growing. She didn’t know yet. He was going to surprise her. Again. He loves giving her surprises. 

Loved. 

He looks over at her corpse and whimpers. He’s seen the worst of this planet, of these people. Blood, marrow, bone, bruises... he’s faced the worst villain from across the galaxy. This is unlike any carnage he’s ever seen. He is the greatest monster he’s ever known. 

He’s not some farm kid. He’s not some saviour. He’s a twisted fucking alien. 

He exhales and stands. He paces, mindless of his naked form. He can see beyond the cliff, the outline of the swimmers, he can see for miles the wildlife and thick trunks. 

He swallows, his mouth acidic. He keeps his back to her and head back toward the trees. He’ll tear the place down. Burn it. He’ll go somewhere. Somewhere not earth. 

He stops before he reaches the trees. He can’t leave her there. He wretches as he makes himself turn back. He brings his fist to his mouth as he crosses back to her lifeless form. The top of her neck is melted and black. Her flesh stinks from the burns. 

He drops to his knees beside her. He slides his arms under her gently and scoops her up. He hugs her to him and his eyes tingle. He stands with a wobble. It takes several steps to find his balance. 

His heart thumps as he turns and carries her into the trees, the sway of the leaves, the shrill joy of the swimmers, muting into a bitter silence. His footsteps echo through the forest as the chain links tinkle over the ground. Her warmth is draining from her. 

He lays her at the threshold of the house. He should burn it with her inside. Burn the whole damn planet. 

He can’t. 

He starts digging with his bare hands. It doesn’t take long. When he’s done, his nails, his knuckles, his knees are dirty. 

He reaches to her as he stands in the hole. He doesn’t look as he drags her over by her ankle. He takes the chain off her before he puts her at the bottom, between his feet. She’s flat, her arms limp, legs too. He looks at her, unable to make himself leave her. 

His body moves on its own. He’s blinded with tears as his grief overflows. He’ll never feel her again. He wants to feel her. 

He’s between her legs before he can think. He curls an arm under her, crushing her as he guides himself along her cunt. She’s still warm enough. He closes her eyes to block out her stubbed neck. 

He ruts into her as the dirt tamps down beneath the shape of her. His knees sick as he pounds with everything he’s lost, everything he ever wanted to give her. He cums quickly but doesn’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. 

The night falls and passes over him. He stills but doesn’t leave her. He stays inside her until he feels the stiffness in her. Until the chill has overtaken her completely. 

He grunts as he forces his way out of her. He winces and digs his fingers into the dirt wall to help himself stand. He hops out and goes inside. He finds the plaid skirt. The one he went back for when they got here. 

He brings it to the hole and slips it onto her. She doesn’t look like her. Not just because the missing part. She’s truly gone from him. He feels her death inside him. 

He’s numb as he shovels the dirt with his hands. He covers her, fills up the hole, then sits on it and watches the house beneath the sunlight. He can hear people. All the way down at the lake. They’re happy. Why the fuck are they so happy? 

He’s not. 

Darkness comes again. The house is still standing. He goes inside. 

He doesn’t come out. Not for a while. Not at the days grow cooler. Not as the snows come. Not as the thaw softens the earth around her body. Only when the sunlight wakes him does his hibernation end. 

His hair is messy and long, his beard too. He has no mind for it. He hears the splashing down at the lake. He can see the women diving from the dock. He stands and goes to the door. 

He walks out into the summer haze. The grass has grown over her grave. He stomps past it without a glance and heads for the trees. 

He can’t get her back, but he doesn’t need to be alone. What he is, he doesn’t need love. Love? It’s so human. So pathetic. 

He won’t make the same mistake twice; a cage will do better than the chain. 

End. 

Read the sequel. 

[nenelonomh]

how to get into a good university

maintain a strong gpa: focus on your studies and aim for high grades. take challenging courses like honors and ap classes to show your academic rigor.

get involved in extracurricular activities: participate in clubs, sports, or volunteer work. leadership roles and long-term commitments are particularly impressive in university applications.

prepare for standardized tests: study for and take the sat or act. consider taking them more than once to improve your scores. there are so many sites that provide practice and past papers for you to self-study.

build relationships with teachers: strong letters of recommendation can make a big difference. get to know your teachers and counselors. this will also help with quickly solving any issues you face in class!

explore your interests: pursue activities and subjects that genuinely interest you. this can help you stand out in your applications - having a niche interest.

research universities: make a list of potential schools and understand their requirements. visit campuses if possible or attend virtual tours and info sessions.

write compelling essays: your personal statement and supplemental essays should reflect your personality, experiences, and aspirations. start early and seek feedback.

seek internships or work experience: gaining real-world experience in your field of interest can strengthen your application, as well as help you to understand what fields you enjoy.

manage your time well: balancing academics, extracurriculars, and personal time is crucial. develop good study habits and time management skills. this is not just a getting into university skill, this is a life skill!

stay organized: keep track of deadlines for applications, tests, and scholarships. use a planner or digital tools to stay on top of everything.

starting early and staying focused can help you achieve your goal of getting into a good university.

instagram | pinterest | blog site

[ktjislove1119]

what being pharmony's seventh (favorite) member would be like⁷ㅤ

-> p1harmony x seventh member! male reader -> can be read as platonic or romantic, i tried keeping it ambiguous and balanced in this aspect

warning : some members refer to you with honorifics (hyung) so if that makes you uncomfortable then ... scadattle idk + i made you in between the hyung line and maknae line (so younger than keeho, theo, and jiung, but older than intak, soul, and jongseob) + not proof read !! i will edit in the morning, im knocking out rnnnn

rating : mushy fluff, some get sentimental but for the most part it's really just

a/n: ive been cooking this one for a long time guys !! also the reader is said to speak english well, but i don't think...that's a huge concern bc...but wanted to make note of that before you read on lol (even though its only mentioned a handful of times) + i want to lowkey make this a series !!! not a continous storyline-esque series, but installments of the same reader with piwon, if that makes sense...

wc : 14k+...idk i guess that each members individual headcanons are ??? 2-3k+ long...anyway....

yoon keeho — the relationship you’d have with keeho would be a mix of how he treats soul and intak. you guys had trained together for a very long, long time, but he still is always looking out for you and has you in the forefront of his mind. he worries about you a lot because you have been putting a lot of pressure on yourself since pre-debut and he’s really perceptive when it comes to you. he doesn’t baby you, though, because you guys aren’t that different in age, but he does check in with you in his own special ways.

the season of work that was preparing for overseas schedules and tours was always the most gruelling. it was much more demanding than simply promoting domestically since it involved remembering new things like choreography, positioning, and cues, which almost always changed slightly with each stop.

it was late now and there were barely any people left in the building to practice, but you were still working hard in trying to keep up with all the changes. just as you were about to start the music to one of the tracks, the door behind you had opened up and keeho was standing there with a not surprised look on his face.

“i knew you’d be here,” he said simply, “why aren’t you back to the dorm already?”

“i still need to practice some more, the tour starts soon,” is the simple explanation and keeho hums in understanding, closing the door behind him and pulling out a chair that was nearby. “what are you doing here?”

“keeping you company,” he says quickly, moving over to plug his phone into the wall and then watching you with his arms crossed over his chest, “after you’re done, we can walk back together too,”

“how did you know i was in this room?”

“[name], you’re the only one still here it was very easy to find you,” he chuckles, spreading his legs and rubbing his eyes as he got more comfortable in his chair. “why do you always have to overdo it when tour is about to start?”

“i just want to make sure i have it down,” you sigh, already knowing the direction this conversation was going.

“okay, then practice for only a couple more minutes and then let’s go home,” he proposes, pointing to the clock in the corner, “it’s way too late and if you really want to make your performance the best, getting good rest is the most important.”

“fine, fine,” you wave him off, going back into positioning and getting ready for the music to start.

you run through the choreography a couple more times without keeho inserting himself, simply watching with tired eyes as you worked. the practicing came to an end about half an hour later and he looked thankful you were finally calling it wraps.

as he waited before, he was scrolling through his phone aimlessly, occasionally filming you without you being aware, and when you stood in front of him to leave, he excitedly locked his phone and cheered.

an arm came around your sweaty neck and shoulders, as well as his hand rubbing your stomach, “our [name] always working so hard,” he compliments, making you fight against his hold — out of uncomfortableness of how the sensation of his skin against your sweaty one felt. but his grip was tight and he even smooshed your cheeks together in his excitement.

“let’s eat some good food at the dorm, for you to recharge,” he comments, turning off the lights on your way out and shutting the door behind you two.

“what good food? the leftovers from last week?”

“if that’s what we have, then that’s what we have,” he sighs, trying to remember what was in the fridge.

“i can also just make a protein drink for dinner, we can share it,”

he looks at you disgusted before saying, “we are not having a protein shake for dinner — minus the fact that’s just not healthy, they’re disgusting so, no. we will eat the leftovers,”

you laugh at his definitive tone and facial expressions, accepting his proposal and walking out of the building side by side.

— keeho is really sweet and understanding with you, but does tend to put his foot down and become more stern when it regards you and your health habits. he is always the first one to remind you when to take breaks and go easy on yourself, but won’t force you to do anything that he says. if he suggests you take a break, but you don’t want to, he’ll wait on the sidelines for you to tire out and then guide you back to the dorm. his method of doing this actually proves to be really effective as it leads you to take more breaks because no one is actively forcing them on you which makes them more appealing (if that makes sense).

— he’s also really touchy with you, as he is with all the members. the thing with you is that you really welcome it. you’ve understood since you were trainees that one of keeho’s biggest habits is that he loves being in physical contact and close with those he cares about most. and he cares about you very deeply. back when you were still trainees, he’d often find himself sharing your bed with you since he didn’t want to be alone and wanted someone to be near. even now after debut, it’s still the same sentiment of: wanting to always have someone in his corner that he can express outward affection with as a means of self-comfort.

“[name], come here,” keeho calls, waving his hand to you in a hither motion with his phone propped up in his other. the entire group was waiting in the green room for their next direction of the music show. but seeing as it was just a waiting time, everyone was doing their own thing. keeho was watching a video on youtube, but wanted someone near as he did so, which is why he called you.

approaching with your own phone in hand, you didn’t even look up as you sat beside him and let his arm fall on your shoulders.

“what are you watching?”

“i forgot how to get the hidden move, so i have to watch a youtube tutorial,” you complain, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips.

“wah, gamer boy,” he says in english, making you weakly slap his stomach. he doesn’t even flinch, merely laughing as he continues to watch whatever was on his own screen. the hand on your shoulder stays in position, occasionally squeezing you for no apparent reason.

simple touches and actions like this summarize the way keeho shows affection with you. sometimes it’s grand actions like a kiss on the cheek (something especially grand when he does it in public settings) or big, tight hugs in private, but either way: keeho is going to be showing affection to you one way or another, public or private.

the setting doesn’t really deter him because he feels like, if he wants to show affection with you the place doesn’t really matter. even if you’re standing at a fanmeeting and he’s feeling more expressive at that time, he will go over to you and just absolutely smother you. the fans can coo and “aw” all they want, some will probably think it’s purposeful fanservice, but to keeho it’s just him wanting to show you affection.

keeho leans into your ear from his position on your back (he was hugging you from the back) and whispers, “do you want to go to the cafe afterwards?” making you smile and nod, turning to look at him as you answer.

considering how close he was to you, this made your face inches apart and something that was worthy of fans screaming over. but it didn’t faze you two as you casually carried on, “the one near the dorm? will you buy me the cheese danish?”

keeho chuckles, squeezing your cheeks together and bumping his forehead with yours. he stands upright and slightly backs away from you, “yeah, let’s go,” since that phrase wasn’t whispered, the fans were going crazy over the part of the conversation they could hear and their curiousity was high.

“where? go where?”

“keeho, where are you taking [name]?”

“we’re running away together,” keeho jokes, sticking his tongue out as he pretends to drag you away.

”where are you going?”

“nowhere!” you say in a sing song voice, obviously teasing the crowd.

the playful banter riles them up, making everyone hyperfocus on you two until one of the other members does something that steals all their attention.

lucky fans that had seen you two at the cafe had went onto social media and teased: “this is where keeho meant when he said they were running away together, so adorable” with a picture of you two standing in line, standing close to one another. there was then a selca the fan had taken with the two of you attached beside it, making other p1ece envious of how lucky the girl was.

“were they are seriously that close the whole time? they’re so clingy with each other T.T” to which the original poster responded, “they really were — their chemistry is real, guys. the whole reason i recognized them was because i saw them standing in line and thought, wow, keeho also holds onto [name] as tight as this man does. keeho really doesn’t want him going anywhere, it’s cute!”

the affection-ridden and patient relationship that keeho and you share is one of the favorite dynamics for p1ece to see since it’s a refreshing one. seeing the two of you be most comfortable with each other, no matter where you are, makes them feel happy to witness such a pure form of trust and adoration.

choi taeyang — theo is a guy that’s super big on teasing, he makes a lot of jokes based off of teasing and they usually end up with everyone in the room laughing. what’s something interesting that has been noticed by some staff as well as p1ece is that, taeyang tries especially hard in making people laugh and uplifting the mood when you are there or nearby. there have been many instances of people editing theo’s eyes watching you the moment he makes a joke, an expecting look on his face that gets washed with relief and achievement when he sees that you do end up laughing. taeyang finds that his relationship with you is really, really fun and full of laughter, which he intends to keep that way for as long as possible.

you guys were filming for another installment of your variety show; saessak harmony and you and theo were placed to be on the same team for the “guess the kpop song” challenge. towels were wrapped around your heads as you continued on playing and eating, at the same time.

theo, keeho, soul, and you were all placed on the same team against jiung, intak, and jongseob. thankfully, keeho was very good at the game and was scoring the majority of your points, allowing the rest of the team to be more relaxed. you were sitting in between soul and theo, watching with a grin as keeho scored another point for your team.

“yah, [name], look,” theo whispers, showing you the egg that was in his hand. you watch in interest, then burst out laughing at his sudden action. it caught the attention of the rest of the group, but you were too busy falling into theo’s neck to even properly notice. he put his arm around you as you laughed together, almost completely collapsing backwards in your laughing fit.

“what? what? what?” jiung asked, wanting to know what was so hilarious, as well as everyone else in the group too.

theo was too busy holding onto your body to stop it from hitting the ground to properly answer while you were too occupied with laughing.

”these two are always interrupting filming,” intak accused, “please spray them with water as punishment,” he cheekily requested, everyone bursting out in laughter as they saw that the staff had actually sprayed the two of you with the water gun.

now you and theo were a mess on the floor, holding onto each other as you were relentlessly attacked with water from the staff.

“what even was so funny?” keeho asked once everyone had settled down more, making you wave off his question and insist on moving on to continue on the challenge.

— taeyang really values spending free time with you, he likes to just be in your presence. even if you guys aren’t doing anything particularly interesting, just being with you is enough for him. he doesn’t really enjoy going out the most, but he won’t deny going out with you — unless he really isn’t up for it. but most of the time, for convenience sake, you two are staying indoors. you two will rest in the same bed together, but not speak a work to one another. and it’s comfortable that way, which he can appreciate. he doesn’t always need high energy level atmospheres surrounding him and you really do help calm him down, just by being near so he likes monopolizing on that.

— one of the things that theo has picked up nowadays is learning the guitar. and he has proper lessons with his teacher very often, but the person he wants to show off his newly acquired skills to the most is you. when it comes to things that taeyang is proud of, he likes to show them off to you first. because he knows it’s always a judgement free zone (not that it wouldn’t be with the other members, it’s just having you be the only one watching and complimenting him is what he desires most). he loves hearing all the impressed sounds you make and curious questions you ask him, even if he himself is a pretty beginner level player. he’ll pretend as if he has all the answers to impress you further.

“play me your favorite song on the guitar,” you request, sinking into the mini couch that was in the studio.

“i don’t know how to yet,” he truthfully admits, plugging the guitar into the amp and rolling the chair closer to you, “i’ll play you a snippet of what i’m learning now though, for our solo performance. it sounds pretty,” he comments, looking at you and smiling at the way your eyes lit up at the mention of his solo song.

the strings are strummed lightly and taeyang is depending on no one but himself to not mess up and embarrass himself in front of you. there are a couple of times he mistakes a string for another and strikes it by accident, but each time that happens you don’t seem to notice or you ignore it on purpose. he smiles at your amazed expression, finishing the song with a sigh and awaiting your feedback.

“that was amazing, taeyang,” you compliment, smiling so brightly and genuinely at him that he feels a blush crawl onto his face.

“it wasn’t much, but i’ve been working hard on it to make it sound perfect,” he admits, making you even more eager in complimenting him.

“it was so good, you’ll be in perfect shape by the time the tour starts,” you add in, making him put his hood up as a weak attempt in hiding his face from you. you tease him, putting your hand beneath the hood and affectionately rub the top of his hair. “a true rockstar, huh?”

he weakly swats your hand away, grabbing your wrist after you try evading him and putting it down to rest on his leg.

”i can teach you? it’s really simple, you’ll get the hang of it really fast,” he offers, keeping your wrist enclosed in his hand as he rubs the skin gently, “c’mon, let me teach you,”

making the easy decision of accepting, you welcome the guitar into your lap and theo into the seat next to you. for longer than you two realized, you were in the studio by yourselves learning the chords to the song “until i found you.” occasionally, he would tease you for your below beginner level guitar skills, but for the most part he wsas genuinely teaching you and hoping you’d learnt his song.

“maybe we can do a duet on stage,” you joke, but theo doesn’t actually seem to mind it. he brushes your hair out of your face and behind your ear, a kind smile on his lips as he nods in agreement.

— theo is really gentle and caring with you, in the physical sense. he doesn’t show as much affection as keeho (that’d be hard), but he does show that he cares and is always looking out for you in other ways. there have been compilations made online of all the subtle things theo does to look out for you and p1ece gush over it constantly. neither of you know of these videos existence, but if theo ever did become aware of it, he’d definitely blush in embarrassment of being found out + seeing his actions be made aware to everyone.

“did you see the way theo covers the corner of the table? something tells me that if it were anyone else he would’ve loved to see the member lightly hit their head lollol”

→ “he always has had a soft spot for [name]”

“here theo goes again protecting his [name]! so cute”

→ “the arm that never leaves [name]’s waist! an infamous and familiar sight”

“anyone else notice how theo always is closest to [name] when they go anywhere public? like the airport or in overseas schedules, he’s always right next to [name] T.T so cute”

— taeyang wants to make you laugh, wants your hardest laughs to be with him and wants to always make you feel the most safe and secure. maybe it’s because you were the first one to truly welcome him to the company when he first became a trainee or for another reason. but in the end, he’s always having his eye on you. he’s very aware and keen when it comes to you, coming first to your defense in any situation as well as being the person to make you laugh the most too. he’s a real sweetheart and gentleman when it comes to you and it’s painfully obvious.

choi jiung — he is someone who is very explicitly proud of you and shows it in all sorts of ways. he’s always grinning so wide whenever you are speaking at public events because he’s that proud, whenever you have a highlight point in a performance, he’s watching you with a giant grin. at their concerts and shows, he’s always hovering around you with a smile and fond look in his eyes. a lot of people have pointed this out too because of how often jiung is caught cheesing at you, but the man cannot and will not ever stop. you two have trained together for a really long time so whenever you stand on your own, he just can’t help but think of all those times when you were trainees working hard together and smile at how far everyone has come, but especially you.

the two of you were on a weverse live, sitting down and eating some food the staff had prepared for you. the other members were either occupied or doing their own activities, meaning you and jiung were the only ones that p1ece were going to be seeing today. your seats were close to each other, your thighs underneath the table and out of vision from the camera, were touching and rocking against the other.

“here, here,” jiung says, bringing a piece of dessert up from the plate and ready to spoon feed it to you. obeying, eyes zeroed in on the treat, you dropped your jaw and closed in around his fork. “it’s good, right?”

you hummed in confirmation, jiung already getting another forkful to feed you again.

“i’m not sure what this is,” you answered, reading the chat and trying to get to as many comments as possible, “but it’s super yummy,”

“very light,” jiung adds in, turning to face the camera after feeding you the second piece. he puts his fork down and also commits to reading more comments, “so cute? well, it’s only cute because [name] is cute,” he pinches your cheek, which you allow while staring deadpan at the camera, “our cute [name],” he coos, laughing at the unimpressed expression on your face.

“he doesn’t like being called cute then,” jiung finalizes, dropping his hand from your cheek and holding yours underneath the table.

“being called cute is fine, just don’t rip my cheeks off while you do,” you scold, pinching his thigh lightly.

“alright, alright,” he appeases, leaning forward and reading more comments, “what are you two doing now? just talking and eating, very calm,” he then turns to you, “do you want to go to the studio?”

you nod, “it’s more comfortable to be set up there,” jiung grabs the stand that the camera was on and hoists it up while you clean up as much as possible before abandoning the room to go to jiung’s private studio.

”p1ece, what have you guys been up to lately? i feel like we haven’t talk in a long time,” jiung makes small talk with the fans, who eagerly respond and hope to be noticed by him. he waits by the door for you to join his side, standing sideways as he watches you. “me and [name] have been working hard for you all, there is a lot that we have planned for you all. [name] has been working so hard on his vocals and we honestly will probably work more after we end the live.” he reads the flying comments, before turning to you and smiling to see that you were done cleaning up.

“it’s always fun to work with [name] because he has such a good voice,” jiung compliments, making you wave your hand in dismission. he pets your head rather aggressively, making your head bop up and down as you walk to the studio, “everyone should compliment [name] right now,”

“that’s too much!” you exclaim, slapping his hand away and pretending to glare at him.

jiung only grins and moves the camera closer to your face, “isn’t he just so cute when he makes that face?”

— jiung values his alone time sooooo much, whenever there is a chance to be alone, he will take it and is content in knowing that all the members respect that precious time for him. but once he has enough of being alone and feels energized, the first person he will look for, is you. it’s cute, how he’ll return to the dorms after spending the whole day by himself on his own little adventures, and the first thing that leaves his lips is your name. when you finally do reunite, he will grin so wide his eyes turn into crescents.

jiung looked down at his phone, a small pout on his lips as he typed back.

“do you need anything while youre in the studio jiji?”

the affectionate nickname warmed his heart and he quickly typed back, not wanting to leave you waiting long.

“no, it’s okay, i’ll see u back at the dorm later :)”

“okkk <3 get back safe”

and that was the end of the conversation.

jiung was so relieved that you were understanding of him and his alone time, it was really something he craved and needed. especially with how hectic the schedules have been, it’s been nothing but work on top of work. and he needed to take personal breathers more often than not. everyone had known each other long enough to not feel offended by his need for personal space, too, which was another big relief.

he spent a couple more hours at the studio, jumping in between personal work and anything regarding their next release. when he was done, he stopped by the 24 hour convenience store and got both him and you a bag of your favorite snacks. he chuckled, walking out of the store knowing that the other members were going to say something about it when they’d find out. right now, they were definitely already sleeping. you were always the only one awake to greet him when he’d come back, as well as any other member that would come home later than usual.

he stopped to his dorm first, changing into comfortable clothes and freshening up before walking down to yours. it was only a couple of doors down and he entered the pin, trying to keep quiet to not interrupt anyone else’s sleep. the moment he walked in, he saw you sitting on the couch and watching a random youtube video.

“[name],” he called out to you, his signature toothy grin on his face. seeing you also in your comfortable pajamas made him smile, enjoying the sight of you all cozied up and relaxed.

”welcome home,” you jokingly greeted, bounding over to him with a smile.

“thank you,” he said quietly, walking over to the kitchen table and putting the snacks down.

“ah, you should’ve told me you were bringing some over, i already brushed my teeth,” you whined, seeing your favorite snack waiting for you. he apologized with a smile on his face, but you weren’t seriously annoyed with him so you just waved him off.

”are you sleeping over tonight?” you ask, walking back to the couch with a bottle of water and tapping the empty space near you, “or are you just stopping by?”

“probably just stopping by,” he shrugs, taking the seat next to you. you hum in response, scratching your eye and fighting back a yawn.

silence soon filled the living room as you kept watching the tv and he mindlessly scrolled on his phone. when he heard you lightly snoring, though, he looked up and smiled at your sleeping form. he set his phone down and carefully got up from the couch to get you more comfortable. he wasn’t going to try carrying you to bed, in fear of waking you up. instead, he scooted your torso down to properly rest on the cushions, so you wouldn’t wake up with back pain. he adjusted the pillow you were using, as well as the blanket covering you. he tucked it in neatly, brushing your hair aside a couple of times as he was smiling softly at you.

“goodnight, [name],” he whispered, patting your head before backing away. he picked up his phone from the table and pocketed it, about to be let himself out and go back to his own dorm. he grabbed the remote, ready to turn off the tv, but stopped when he saw what was playing. he almost laughed too loud, covering his mouth as he watched the otters on the screen play in the water.

were you seriously watching otter videos this entire time?

he lowered the volume, deciding to take a seat and understand what the appeal was. he moved your legs to be on top of his lap, gently moving his hand up and down as he was now completely focused on the television.

the next morning, jongseob woke up to jiung resting his head on your hip and practically cuddling your legs as his feet hung off the end of the couch. he just shook his head and walked over to the kitchen, not too unfamiliar with the habit jiung has of sleeping over. he sees the snacks on the kitchen counter, purposely dodges yours and takes what would have been jiungs’.

other than that, he leaves the two of you to be alone, going back to his own room to rest in bed for a little longer.

— whenever you go out overseas for tour or any other activities, he prefers to spend the free time with you. unfortunately, everyone else also wants to spend time with you, so the compromise is late nights are reserved for the two of you. whether it’s just a quick walk around the block or standing out on the balcony together, jiung likes to explore new places with you, and talk about them. he doesn’t like getting overtly sentimental, so the conversations are usually mindless and comfortable. but internally, he thinks about how grateful he is to have you as such a close companion. as his journey as a trainee, you have probably known him the longest, with intak as a close runner up. he thinks that getting to see new sights and places with you is a true blessing and he hopes the two of you never let this tradition of exploring together go away. it’s something he really looks forward to every time you’re overseas.

— jiung tends to get really competitive when it comes to playing games or anything else remotely team based, usually as seen on their variety shows. but if you’re on the same team as him or the one guilty of ruining his chances of winning, he tries to keep that part of himself in check. the reason is because he’s worried of possibly scaring you or just turning you off from his behavior. now, you’ve seen him get competitive — duh, you’ve known each other for so long and it’s honestly funny to see him get so invested in a simple, childish game. but never has this behavior been targeted to you. and that’s purposeful. he doesn’t want to yell at you, ever, even if it’s just in a game setting where everyone is laughing and having a good time. it just rubs him off the wrong way. every time he thinks of the possibility of him yelling at or raising his voice at you, it leaves a sour taste on his tongue.

“what?! wait! wait! wait! wait! he’s blocking me from getting the cards!” jiung shouts, unsure of who’s hand was in his way — so focused in on the game that he was tunnel visioning on what he needed to do in order to win. the game was intense, everyone was huddled around in a circle and trying their best to empty their hands out into each individual pile. but jiung had run into an obstacle when he was almost done and it was someone else’s hand getting in his way and leaving him behind in a two second time difference.

“blitz! i have no cards left!” keeho announces, doing a victory dance where he sat as he leaves the rest of you in sour moods at losing the round.

”c’mon! who was blocking me?! seriously! i was so close to getting blitz!” jiung shouts, scanning his eyes over everyone with a fiery look in his eyes as he tries to fish out who it was. but then you shoot your hand up and bashfully smile.

“sorry, jiji, i didn’t mean to…” your voice is trailing off, sensing how angry he was and awkwardly trying to save face.

but the moment he saw how meek you had gotten, he took a couple seconds to just breathe and calm down. everyone was waiting for him to explode, which he usually does and then quickly gets over a couple seconds after, but to their surprise, he just waved his hand.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, let’s keep going,” he says, collecting his cards and already getting set up, “but if it happens again, i’ll seriously-”

“it won’t, it won’t,” sensing his teasing tone, you don’t take his threat that serious and only smile and laugh it off as you also get ready for the next round.

everyone else just watches with confused and semi-annoyed looks on their face as you prove immune to jiung’s competitive rage. what a lucky guy you were, they all thought, remembering their own individual instances of jiung’s anger. at least once, everyone has experienced it. and it really isn’t that terrifying, but it was always a hassle of defending ones self against jiung’s stubbornness and bitterness.

but as the two of you just casually talked and smiled about the game, they just sigh and move on, not wanting to complain and ruin the atmosphere.

— jiung, who smiles the widest when you’re nearby. seeing you is enough to get him grinning, but there are certain things you do that he absolutely loves. when you’re focused on dance practice and you just tunnel vision on the instructor and show pure determination, he’s smiling to himself and whispering something to another member or idle camera about your hard efforts and how amazing you were. when you guys are filming for variety content for p1ece, and you spend time talking to the camera — giving special attention to the viewers, he smiles at how mindful and thoughtful you are. at concerts, when you’re free to interact with the crowd as much as you want and not have to worry about choreo, he’ll sometimes catch you doing something slightly embarrassing just to entertain p1ece and that leaves him with the biggest grin known to man. fully “:D” with his eyes crinkling and turning into crescents. next thing you know, you have jiung running over to you with his loud laughter and slapping your back repeatedly. when you’re in the studio, recording, and he’s in charge of directing you, he’s always smiling each time you look at him for feedback while you’re in the booth. no matter what he says, whether it be constructive criticism or words of affirmation, he’s delivering them with a kind, patient smile and loving look in his eyes.

— jiung just naturally sees the best in you. he always thinks highly of you and wishes everyone to do the same, treasuring you so much. it’s a mix of him verbally telling you this and him conveying his thoughts through emotions. he’s not the most affectionate, but he still has his own special ways of making you understand right where his heart lies with you (cough completely enamored by you cough). he is a happy guy as long as you’re near and he hopes that you also see him the same way, eager to make you joyful as well as comfortable. sometimes he’s obnoxiously annoying in singing praises your way, but he can’t help it! he just wants everyone to see you the way he sees you! aka the best.

hwang intak — the first member that is younger than you!! you’re the defining member that is smack dab in the middle of p1harmony in terms of age. one year younger than jiung, theo, and keeho, and one year older than intak, and three years older than soul and jongseob. but a one year difference isn’t the biggest deal in the world, which intak agrees with on most days, but on others, he completely flips opinions and its obvious. what that means is that: some days, intak will be eager to have casual conversation with you, craving that relationship that’s foundation is based on seeing one another equally, instead of a strict, formal type of dynamic. while on some other days, intak succumbs to wanting to completely rely on you as his hyung and, not baby him, but pay special attention to him.

— intak likes to involve you in every aspect of his life. there isn’t a secret that he can keep from you, not that he would want to. but he just has a habit of letting you into every detail, routine, and habit of his. it’s basically the definition of sharing is caring — but with everything. he truly does think it’s only right for him to share everything with you :’( he’s so sweet ill cry.

“hyung, do you need a pair of underwear? these just came out of the wash, they’re still warm!”

“no, thank you, tak, i have enough…?”

he asked the question out of nowhere and was completely unprompted in asking if you wanted a pair of his underwear.

—

“wait, can you tell me what you think of this choreo? let’s go after lunch?”

“sure, make sure you eat well if you’re going to be dancing a lot later, too,”

“yes, hyung,” he says with the cutest smile on his face, taking a huge bite of his food.

—

the whole group was waiting backstage for directions on when to go up on stage with the staff all bustling around them. they were doing last minute checks on everything to make sure it was working well, while the members were all trying to calm down and not get too nervous.

intak’s form of doing this is scrolling on his phone, before a staff member has to take it away for when they go up on stage, and watching any funny video that pops up on his feed. when he finds a particularly funny one, the first person he thinks of showing is you. he walks over to where you were talking with one of the stage managers, waiting (im)patiently with a smile on his face.

“what’s up, tak?” you ask, smiling at him, knowing that he probably had something on his phone to show you.

“watch this, please,” he says, trying to hold in his laughter as he thinks of the video he was showing you. he shoves the phone screen closer to your face and in a couple of seconds, you both are breaking out in laughter at the video.

“[name]! intak! come on, we’re gonna huddle,” keeho calls out to you, an unimpressed look on his face as he sees you two semi-goofing off.

a staff comes by swiftly and takes intak’s phone, allowing you two to join the rest of the group in the circle.

— intak always!!! matching your energy. he’ll always always always be there to match you and whatever mood you’re in, especially if he notices that no one else is keeping up with you. he always loves to do this because it makes you end up laughing so hard and/or having the most fun. he likes having those special moments with you because they feel like it’s just the two of you in the room.

it was a gruelling day of practice. everyone was scattered around the room, whether it be on the floor sprawled out like a star or on the chairs lining the corner, slumped over trying to catch their breath. everyone was tired and it was even more tiresome knowing that there was still a couple more hours of practice you all needed to commit to before being allowed to go home.

you were taking in the sight of everyone’s exhaustion, breathing heavily as you tried to think of ideas on how to boost their energy. it was currently that ten minute period where everyone could rest and catch their breath before the choreographers would get back to strict practice. and knowing that the time was almost up, you connected your phone to the surround speakers and played an energetic song.

“c’mon guys! only a couple more hours of practice!” you cheered, trying to get them optimistic, but the “couple more hours” part easily killed any type of optimism that could be in the room. you jumped to the beat of the music, trying to infect them with the same feeling, but they were all just looking at you unimpressed.

“[name], don’t strain yourself too much, we still have to dance more!” jiung tiredly said, waving his hand as if to bring you towards him, to hopefully calm you down. but you just shook your head, belting out the song lyrics that were playing and continuing to jump around.

in a couple of seconds, intak was joining you, head banging to the music and running around the room with you. he appreciates you trying to uplift everyone and didn’t want your efforts to go completely ignored and to waste. he starts joining in on your singing, purposefully off key, and laughing as you do when you hear how awful he sounded.

“how do they have so much energy…” theo sighs, looking at the two of you and just feeling even more exhausted.

the members are all silent as they watch you two goof off for the next couple of minutes, wishing they could join in on your guys’ fun, but feeling way too tired physically.

meanwhile, you and intak are running around the room and laughing your hearts off as the song continues on blaring through the room. the only reason you guys stop is due to the instructor cutting off the music and calling for practice to resume.

you two are panting and you appreciatively pinch his cheeks with how he kept up with you and your antics.

— another funny, unique thing intak likes to do with you is always interacting with p1ece with you. whether it be through weverse lives, at fansigns where he milks fanservice with you for them, or in any other form, he just likes displaying the close relationship you guys have with each other to p1ece. it’s almost as if he’s flexing — how comfortable and in-sync the two of you are with each other, how easily he understands you without you even having to say anything. they love it, anyway, and he loves to do it, so it really doesn’t hurt anyone.

intak walks over to you as you try putting on a costume that someone had gifted you. it was a simple outfit that you think was supposed to mimic turtwig, which p1ece knew as your favorite pokemon. there was a headband with a sprout, which was your representative emoji, and cute cloth shell that mimicked the pokemon’s that was supposed to be worn around your shoulders.

“this is cute,” intak comments, smiling at the costume with a fond look in his eyes. then suddenly, his eyes lit up and he reached further into the box and brought out a pokeball with a proud smile on his face, “hurry up and put it on so i can catch you,”

you laugh at his childish demand, but obey to play along with him. p1ece were watching and aweing at the scene, finding it to be wholesome with how excited intak was to act as a pokemon trainer and you as a turtwig.

when you were just finished putting on the costume, intak suddenly threw the ball in your direction — nailing you right in the face, and causing you to stumble backwards at the sudden impact. p1ece all gasped in shock while the other members began laughing, jiung and theo falling to their knees as you rubbed your cheek.

“what pokemon is gonna let such a rough trainer catch them?!” you joke, smacking intak’s hand away as he tried helping you up — the man himself laughing at the way he had unintentionally injured you.

“i’m sorry, sorry,” he says, but with how hard he was laughing it didn’t seem as though he was that sorry, “please, hyung, it was an accident, it was supposed to hit your chest! i swear!”

“whatever, whatever,” you rub your cheek, that wasn’t even hurting honetly, and shoot him a joking glare.

then, once again — out of nowhere, he grabs the other side of your cheek and pulls you towards him, planting a wet and sloppy kiss on your cheek. instantly, the flashes of the cameras are going off to capture the impromptu moment. you recoil simply because of the wet sensation and rub your cheek, a grimace on your face.

the others break out into another fit of laughter while intak childishly pouts at you, using terrible aegyo to beg for forgiveness. it’s obviously all an act, as well as an excuse to make you laugh, and it works because you’re both forgiving him and laughing with him in the next couple seconds.

”you’re such a bad trainer,” you comment into the microphone, looking to p1ece with an incredulous look on your face, “he’s the only one that can pull something like that off, seriously. because i know intak just wanted to make everyone laugh, so i’ll let it slide. the others don’t have good intentions like that!”

“what?!” keeho exclaims, exaggerating his offense at your comment while everyone in the room breaks out in laughter.

“you’re saying we don’t have good intentions or something?!” theo joins in, crossing his arms over his chest, “c’mere, let me throw the pokeball at your face too, to prove my good intentions!”

“see! that’s what i’m talking about guys!” you shout, running around the small stage to dodge theo’s reeled back arm that was now holding the same pokeball that had hit you in the face earlier.

all the while, intak is grinning ear to ear so hard his cheeks almost hurt, watching you with an obvious content look on his face.

—

“it’s only…” intak checks his phone that was on the table, then looks back up at the camera, “10PM, not that late,”

he’s by himself in the dance practice room, stretching in front of the camera as he watches the comments all roll in.

“’intak, what’s your lockscreen?’ how did you guys even see my lockscreen?” he laughs at the random question, playing with his phone in his lap, “oh, you just want to know?” he looks at the screen, deciding that it wasn’t even that bad to show. and the photo itself made him smile anyway, so he wanted to share it with p1ece for that reason as well.

“it’s a photo of me and [name]-hyung,” he says, turning the phone around and showing it to the camera, “i change it a lot, though, but this was from when we went out recently, late at night. there was a cool mirror, so we took a photo. and i liked it, so i use it as my lockscreen and homescreen,”

it was the type of “fish-eye” mirrors that were in conveinces stores so that the owner can see the entire store. the photo was a simple mirror selfie with you squeezing intak’s cheeks together as he took the photo, a smile on each of your faces.

“’so cute’, yes, we are, hyung is,” he laughs, turning his phone off and setting it aside, “’what’s his lockscreen?’ i don’t know…i don’t really look at it, but i think it’s just a picture of all of us, i think of our hands? i’m not sure, i’ll ask him when i see him and then let you guys know,” he smiles as he sees the comments affectionately talking about you two, mainly about how cute the photo was.

“’what’s your contact name for [name]?’ ah, didn’t he make the tiktok about it recently? it’s still the same as it was then, just ‘best hyung.’…what? why? why’s everyone saying that i should change it? change it to what?” he opens his phone and opens the messager app, scrolling up and down your contact information, “i think it’s cute though? he likes it too,”

he waits to see what people suggest, making an ‘o’ with his mouth as he continued reading, “oh, make it cuter or add an emoji? that’s what you guys meant! that’s not that bad of an idea, but i don’t know what i’d put…not a sprout, jongseobie already has that for him. how about…”

intak spends the next couple minutes rambling about you as well as answering any questions p1ece had about you, such as your whereabouts and what you were up to nowadays. intak is definitely the guy that would air out all your business to everyone, but in a fond, respectable way. obviously, he doesn’t tell them overly personal information or things he knows you wouldn’t want anyone knowing, it’s more-so, just the silly little things that he tells them.

— quick to take your side if there is ever a disagreement or fight that breaks out in the group. fights are common, but for little trivial things (you guys are bound to squabble every now and then, it’s inevitable). and intak doesn’t really mean to take your side, to show bias and favoritism, it’s just he has a really strong sense of loyalty and he always feels that same feeling from you, so he just reciprocates it. that loyalty of his makes him one of your reliable support systems and a trustworthy person to have if time ever get rough.

it was a pretty small thing to fight about, but everyone’s emotions were amped up because of recently stressful times. nothing harmful was exchanged between you and keeho when you were fighting, but you two did need some space to recollect and approach the situation with clearer minds.

you stormed out of the dorm, keeho staying behind and locking himself in his room. the members watched with wide eyes, sighing as they left the matter alone to not get too involved. besides, you and keeho were grown men that could talk this out when you were ready to, you didn’t need to be forced to apologize to each other, like you were kids or something.

and intak agrees with that. but he is concerned on where you would storm off to so late at night. which is why he ran after you, grabbing yours and his coat on his way out. thankfully, you didn’t get too far before he caught up with you. the walk to an empty park nearby was silent, intak knowing that he shouldn’t pester you for small chat as you were definitely not in the mood for it right now.

instead, he took a silent stance next to you as you gently swung back and forth on the swing seat.

“it’s just!” you suddenly exclaim, “we are all high strung right now, we’re all tired! i wish i had more control of how i handled the situation, but i just can’t always be so hyper aware of everything going on around me.” you sighed, hanging your head low as intak lent you an ear to listen to all of your worries. “i should go back and apologize,”

“hold on, let’s just stay here a little while longer. the both of you might need some space, even if it’s just for a couple more minutes,” intak says, speaking softly and gently. you understand where he’s coming from and, thankfully, agree, settling back onto the swing set.

“thanks for coming after me intak, you didn’t have to, i would’ve been fine,” you say quietly, reaching out and squeezing his hand in yours.

“it’s alright, i was just worried something might have happened if you were alone,” he explains, crouching down to take a seat on the mulch beside you, “are you feeling better?”

“yeah, i think i feel even better knowing that you were here, though. seriously, you didn’t have to,”

”i wanted to, though,” he shrugs, not finding it a big deal and thinking about how he would 100% run after you again if a similar situation ever arises in the future, “i’ll always be here, okay? so will everyone else,”

that makes you fondly pet his hair down as a soft thank you escapes your lips, again. intak’s heart is the kindest and his approach of tending to you and the members makes that obvious.

— intak who is extremely sensitive to your mood and energy because he’s known you for so long, the shifts of mood don’t catch him off guard. he’s rather in tune with them, as if they’re his own. and he likes to brag about this special connection that you two have, calling it the utmost unique one in the entire group. he makes it obvious to p1ece that he feels this way too, not shy in staking “claim” of being the person who knows you the best in the group. intak who would easily follow you to the ends of the earth because he trusts you that much and knows that if you two are in it together, it won’t be that bad. he just needs you and some good energy and he’ll be content for the rest of his life.

haku shota — (okay prefacing i have an extremely soft spot for seobsoul as the youngests in piwon and it will most definitely show in these hcs so please beware!!!) now that’s out of the way, you’re someone that soul can trust completely. he has the most trust and faith and abundance of love for you, he will easily follow whatever you say because he believes that you’d never lead him “astray.” he trusts you that much. is always looking at you for some sort of approval or confirmation before doing anything, especially when you guys first debuted. you were like a guiding light to him, and continue to be, when he was literally dropped into a foreign country with no guardian type of figure.

“they’re free?” shota asks intak, who was standing beside him. they were waiting at the front desk of the restaurant, waiting for the other members to come back from the bathroom. and as they were waiting, they noticed that there was a small basket of what seemed to be mints, as well as a sign above them. but since it was written in english, shota couldn’t properly decipher what it said. “where’s hyung?”

“still in the bathroom,” intak pouts, looking at the mints longingly.

“is there anything i can help you with?” the hostess asks, noticing their gazes set on the basket, smiling softly at them.

to not embarrass themselves, intak and shota simply shake their heads and step away, offering her a weak smile.

“you guys look so awkward,” your voice calls out to them, offering the lady a smile as you pass by before joining intak and shota, “what’s up with those looks on your faces?”

you find it comical how they’re standing like lost school boys, but your laughter is cut off when shota suddenly grabs ahold of your hand and squeezes tight. “huh? what is it?”

“are those candies for us to take?” he asks quietly, and although he’s speaking korean, it’s as if he’s scared the hostess is secretly bilingual and can understand what he’s saying. you read the mini sign and nod you head in confirmation.

“it’s say, please take one — so yeah, they’re free and for the guests after eating. you want one?” you ask politely, smiling as he nods immediately, intak speaking up behind him and wanting one for himself too. you walk up to the woman, smile at her again and try to not make it a big deal that you’re taking a handful of mints.

the other members would probably want ones for themselves too, was your logic. when you walked back to intak and shota, their eyes were sparkling as they saw the many mints in your palm. intak took it immediately and popped one in his mouth while shota just hummed in delight and sucked on it.

“thank you, hyung,” soul says, smiling as he grabs your free hand and swings it back and forth.

“of course, shota,” you say, ruffling his hair and then stepping off to the side to not be in anyone’s way as you wait for the other members.

—

“is it okay?” is a line shota says often with his eyes marked on you, making it obvious he’s seeking your approval for something. it was something that started when he was first a trainee with you guys, when he needed someone to guide him through a lot of things, and it has become a harmless habit ever since.

you’d never scold him for relying on you, in fact shota thinks you welcomed that part of his behavior with open arms, which he appreciates. you’re a really big comfort to him, your mere presence next to him helps calm him down.

— he will be really affectionate with you, similiar to keeho. just think about this man’s relationship with keeho, too!! like they’re attached to the hip. he claims the affection he shows you has a different intention when compared to keeho, but you don’t notice because: to you, affection is affection and it’s always welcome !! shota sometimes can’t express in words how much love and appreciation he has for you, or he is too lazy to or it just isn’t appropriate, so instead he’ll show it through actions.

“so, today, i’m working in the studio — as you can obviously see!” you’re on weverse live and it just started a couple minutes ago, so you were giving p1ece the update on what you were doing, “i don’t know what the other members are doing, but i think—”

your cut off when the door behind you opens out of nowhere and it’s a shota staring at you. he’s grinning ear to ear, but you wouldn’t know since he’s wearing a mask on his face. he steps forward, not paying attention to the camera propped up on your desk and only focusing in on you.

“ah, shota, say hi to p1ece,” he hums in response, making a random grunting noise as he stops by your side, making you laugh at his odd behavior. he grabs your cheeks with both his hands, smooshing your face together which only prompted more laughter from you. then he’s leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead, the sensation odd due to the mask in between you two.

but you receive it nonetheless, thanking him loudly with laughter as he pulls away. he smiles, moving close once more to kiss scarily close to your mouth, right on the corner of your lips, but once again the barrier of the mask acts as the last resort safe guard.

”wow, that was close, shota,” you say, surprised at his bold behavior, “shota is extra confident today,” you say to the camera this time, laughing as you read the comments that were freaking out about the surprise kiss, “’did he kiss me?’ yeah, riiight here,” you point to the corner of your mouth, which is now stretched into a smile, “plus, he was wearing a mask,”

shota stands behind you, now playing with the ends of your hair and listening to what you were saying every now and then.

“’[name] wasn’t even surprised lollol’ no, because he does this all the time. sho is very affectionate, guys, really touchy,” he smiles under his mask and decide that he’s going to leave, to not intrude too much on your own live.

you look behind and see him pointing to the door, nodding in understanding, “you’re going straight to the dorm or to practice?” he grunts, making hand gestures which you interpret as him saying he was going to practice.

“okay, don’t stay out for too long, it’s already late, too,” you advise, shooting him a pointed look.

he nods vigorously, saluting to you as well. you laugh and mimic him, but in a less enthusiastic way.

before he leaves, he throws a peace sign to the camera and plants one more kiss onto your cheek, then forcing your hood on top of your head and slamming the door behind him. the live chat is saying how hectic those past three seconds were, but you just fondly smile and agree.

“but he’s always like that, so it’s not that surprising, everyone. that’s just regular soul,” you say, a genuine smile on your face as you pay attention to each comment.

— silently shares a lot of his interests with you. you already have a huge common one: pokemon, but other things that interest him are also made aware to you through gift giving. for some reason, shota loves buying you gifts of things that you don’t even know the reference to?? well, most of them are popular, so you know at least something about them, but other times, it’s just random figurines of characters you don’t recognize littered around your dorm. he makes them blend in with the already existing decor on purpose, smiling as he sets them up as he thinks of the expression you make each time you discover one. it’s like a fun game; what will soul leave behind each time he visits your room? each time, he’s guaranteed to leave something, it’s just a matter of if you find it or not.

— he does not like sharing his clothes with anyone!! it’s just not his style, he doesn’t like sharing with others and he doesn’t want people sharing their clothe with him. what’s his is his and what’s yours is yours, respectfully. one thing that soul doesn’t mind sharing with you, and only you, though, is some of his rings…not all of them!! just select ones! he’s very protective of his belongings, especially his rings, so it was a genuine surprise the first day he put it on your finger, but you came to realize it was only a select few he was comfortable sharing. but the fact he was sharing them with you in the first place was already fascinating and left you with a warm feeling in your chest because you knew how special they were to him.

“this one,” soul gently whispers as you two stand in his room. you’re crowding his desk, where he’s sitting and you’re standing. you watch him go through his jewelry boxes before your outing together. he made a comment on how you were missing essential accessories and then before you knew it, he was dragging you to his room to showcase all the jewelry he had for you to wear for the day.

the one he was holding now was a simple thick, silver band, and he tried it on each of your fingers, gently sliding it on and off to see where it fit best. when he finally saw that it was a perfect fit for your ring finger, he smiled up at you in pride. just when you thought that was enough, he turned back to his collection and began choosing another one.

“one more, it looks silly if you’re only wearing one,” he says in a matter fact tone, and since he was definitely more experienced with accessorizing, you just trusted him. even if it was a matter of opinion, you didn’t need to know that…

he pulls out a more special looking one, a dragon themed ring that has an edgy feel to it. this one goes on your middle finger pretty snug and he smiles wide, happy to see you wearing his jewelry.

“we’re matching,” he says, showing his heavily adorned fingers. the rings themselves weren’t matching, but you suppose he meant in general.

“we are, you have the coolest things, sho,” you say, looking at your fingers with a grin on your face. your hand goes up to ruffle his hair, then resting on the base of his neck as you guide him out of his room, “now, what should our first stop be?”

“food,” he says, happily walking beside you as you go out for your “date.”

— the other member often complain about how you give jongseob and soul the easiest time when it comes to the rigorous training, but they eventually stop bringing it up when one time you went particularly hard on them for their criticism. since that day, they’ve stopped talking about it and just silently wallow in their discovery as they watch you tend to jongseob and soul more than the rest. sometimes, though, their frustration about your difference in behavior does slip out — but no one actually walks away from it with their feelings hurt, so shota will silently continue to take advantage of it…

“i’m tired,” soul huffs, hands on his knees as he watches the reflection of the group in the mirror. he looks to you, pouting as he asks in a light tone, “can we take a quick break?”

“no, we already took one earlier, we have to practice for longer before taking a break,” jiung denies, shaking his head excessively to show that the idea wasn’t going to slide.

“but-”

“we can take a five minute break, or you can shota, it’s alright,” you defend immediately, waving your hand for him to take that as his signal to rest for a little bit.

”c’mon, [name], don’t go so easy on him,”

“yah, he’s the one that’s working the hardest, he has the dance break in the middle of the already hard choreo! don’t you feel some sypathy?”

“we all are working hard, thou-”

“i know, and i’m tired too, but imagine how shota feels, he’s the one that has to use the most energy out of all of us!”

“…i guess you’re right,”

there’s a heavy sigh as they realize you won’t back down, standing firm as shota’s defender. he’s grateful because he really was almost completely worn out at this point and it was seriously getting to him.

“only a couple minutes, okay?” you gently, but sternly check with him to which he nods in understanding. he smiles at your way of caring for him, holding your hand and planting a kiss on the back before releasing it and flopping to the wood floor of the practice room.

— always wants to be in contact with you. kind of going hand in hand with that other point i made, but to really drive it home, he always wants to be in arms reach of you. he’s holding your hand whenever he has the chance, if you guys are sitting, he’s practically resting in your lap and shamelessly hugging you close. he likes to monopolize on affection because he knows you’re also comfortable giving it. he’s selfish in this sense, not really wanting to share you with others when he’s feeling particularly needy. he’ll slot himself into your arms and stay there for as long as possible, no matter the setting.

you guys were all watching the scenes that you had just filmed back, intent on catching if something was wrong. you were on set to film a music video and it was nearing the end of the day, so everyone was rather mellowed out and tired.

shota took his place standing beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watched the clip back. you gently run your hand up and down his back to comfort him of his tiredness, but it only makes him wish to slip into sleep.

“okay, soul, jongseob, theo, and [name], you’re done filming for the day, keeho, jiung, and intak, there is just one more scene we need to run through with you guys,” the three respond with as much enthusiasm as possible, stepping forward to follow the director’s instructions.

one of your managers comes forward and guides the rest of you to get unready in the dressing rooms, commenting on how after the three were done filming and getitng unready as well, they were going to be sending everyone home. that made the rest of you cheer in relief, taking a seat into the chair to let the makeup staff do their work.

soul had to fight the urge to fall asleep in his seat, watching his reflection and yours in the mirror to try and keep his eyes open. you were out of the makeup chair faster than the others, changing back into your regular clothes, and then collapsing onto the couch and sighing in relief to finally lay down. soul was next to be free, changing as fast as possible, and then falling right on top of you on the couch.

“sho, there’s so many other open spots,” you groan, turning over so that you were now laying on your back and holding soul directly to your person.

”you’re more comfortable,” he explains easily, placing a peck on your cheek and then resting his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

you try ignoring the staff that was filming you with their camera, getting content for who knows what, and follow suit to shota closing his eyes. it seemed the two of you were the only ones that knocked out for a quick nap because when you were woken up by keeho, everyone else was already ready to go.

on the ride back to the dorms, shota was still clinging to your side and resting his head on your shoulder the entire car ride back. he rested your intertwined hands in his lap, too, playing with them until he fell back asleep.

— relying on you if he has trouble communicating something. ever since you were trainees, you made it clear that you were there to support him if he ever had trouble vocalizing something due to the language barrier. frustratingly, he had trouble with that a lot — especially early on when he was training with everyone. but you proved to be a reliable pillar for him to lean on when he had hit a roadblock in terms of what to say in korean. you try your best and even attempting to learn some japanese for him. nowadays, it isn’t nearly as often as it was before, but he still looks to you first for some assistance if he ever needs it. he realizes how he’s in an incredibly vulnerable position, to be asking you for help on something as important as clarifying or completely translating something to him, but he trusts you completely and knows there’s no malicious intent that you could have towards him (you’ve proven that to him many times).

— shota who feels the most comfortable with you, in all aspects. in showing affection, in sharing his opinion, in being himself, he can do it all if you’re right there by his side. this trust and faith definitely stems from how your relationship was formed in your trainee days, but shota doesn’t mind and instead takes advantage of your deep bond with one another. he often talks about taking you back to japan with him for a return visit (you had already went with him a couple other times, he just wants to bring you back so you can spend more time with him in his home country), speaking of how you need to spend more time with his dogs, too. he wants to keep you as close as possible, both physically and figuratively — in terms of your emotional connection and he will do anything to ensure that.

kim jongseob — maknae timeeee!!!!! despite being the youngest, jongsoeb by far has the most experience on the process of becoming and being a kpop idol. he was a trainee since he was practically 11 years old, so he was more versed in the industry than anyone else. unfortunately, due to his young age, people often don’t take him seriously. well, the members definitely do because they were pretty intimidated by him the first time they all met, but other people that work with don’t often show him the respect he deserves. but since your guys’ first meeting, you were always courteous and respectful to him, showing through your actions and words that you took him seriously and genuinely saw him to be the artist he worked so hard in becoming. because of this, he holds a special place for you in his heart — incredibly special. to be respected so quickly by someone older, even though you yourself were talented, was a huge honor and pleasant surprise to him.

“[name]! jongseobie is looking for you!” keeho announces, walking into one of the public spaces of the building and tapping your shoulder, “he’s in his studio, so i think it has to do with whatever he’s making,”

you tap intak off of your shoulder, standing up and grabbing your phone from your table. you frown slightly seeing several missed calls and texts from the man himself, pocketing the device and thanking keeho for telling you. the walk is short, going up to the designated floor where the private studios were and making a beeline for jongseob’s.

you knocked a couple times before he opened the door for you, smiling softly when he saw that it was you.

“why weren’t you answering my texts?” he asks with a drawl in his voice, an in between of teasing and whining. you chuckle softly at it, taking your seat next to him and explaining that your phone was just in do not disturb mode for the evening. “do not disturb? can’t you make it where there are exceptions? i should be on that list,”

“i didn’t even know that was a thing,” you defend yourself, but he just clicks his tongue and types away at his keyboard. then, he hands you the mic stand. “huh?”

“just do runs over the melody,” he says quickly, hitting his space bar and pushing his chair back so that he could carefully watch you, “i think it would sound like this,” he then weakly vocalizes a unique melody you’d never heard before, “but i wanted to hear you do it, it’d sound better and help me more than if i did it myself,”

“okayy,” you mimic the sound he made, earning a smile from him as he nods along, egging you on in continuing and letting you choose how the rest of it would sound.

jongseob likes involving you in a lot of his creative processes, similar to jiung. but you’re definitely invited to the studio more with jongseob than you are jiung. this is partly due to the fact that jongseob finds a lot of inspiration in you, as well you naturally helping in unblocking whatever creative dilemma he’s in.

he just always remembers when you two were still trainees and how much respect you had given him. it’s a thought that crosses his mind at least once a day, feeling grateful to have had you there to believe in him wholeheartedly since the beginning.

— briefly mentioned in jiung’s section, but whenever you guys go overseas, who you spend the most of your time with outside of the hotel room is supposed to be evenly split…supposed to. but the reality is that jongseob is the first to invite you out and — first come, first serve, right? he’s always eager to see the sights with you because he claims you make the perfect center piece for his photography and he likes how you two often share similar interests. when you two go out, his camera is strapped to his torso and you’re both eagerly taking in the foreign sights.

“wait, where did [name] go?” intak asks, coming out of the shower with his hair still damp and towel hanging off of his shoulders, “we were gonna go to the dining hall for lunch,”

“i think jongseob and him went out,” soul mindlessly answers, scrolling on his phone as he lounges on the couch, “me and [name] hyung are going out for dinner, though, so…”

“what?!”

meanwhile, you and jongseob were already a couple of blocks away from the hotel and popping in and out of stores that had caught your eye. occasionally, you’d hear the click of his film camera, but by the time you turn around to look at him with a playful glare, he’s already setting it back onto his hip with an innocent smile on his face.

— jongseob is probably the most vocal in talking about how much admiration and love he has for you. but it’s subtle slips into a conversation vocal, not the kind that is just “screamed” at the top of his lungs. there’s two different ways of speaking about someone, ykwim? there’s explicitly saying how you feel about them and then there’s talking fondly of them softly, but in every passing sentence. jongseob is definitely the latter. he isn’t the type to lay out all his emotions for others to perceive, instead he’ll calmly, but lovingly compliment you and your personality (constantly, at that). he makes it obvious how much he appreciates you, just not super “loudly” if that makes sense.

the group was getting interviewed individually for a behind the scenes video for the killin it album. jongseob sat in front of the cameras with a confident smile on his lips, waiting for the next comment the directors had to make.

“when you’re writing lyrics, is there anything else that you keep in mind besides the obvious meaning behind the words?”

he hummed, thinking about his answer for a couple of seconds before coming to a concrete answer, “i think about a couple of things, but at the forefront of my mind is how it will sound and how well each member can execute it. for example, for soul, i purposely choose easier to pronounce words to not make it incredibly difficult. and when i am making the general beat or melody, i tend to think about how [name] hyung would execute it. to me, he has the most raw voice that i really love working with and he is also enthusiastic about helping me create the vision before sending the draft to whoever needs to hear it next. his voice alone can inspire a lot of things from me, too, so i tend to just think about him when i compose things or come up with lyrics.”

there isn’t an ounce of embarrassment evident on his face as he speaks so truthfully and passionately about you.

the next question the director asked was, “do the members have a strong say in who gets which line?”

“well, me and intak just write our own raps, and come together occasionally if we get stuck — but dividing our parts up is easy, it’s just a matter of where in the song the verses are going to be. as for the vocals, i have a strong preference to [name] hyung’s voice, so the others have learned to tune me out of the discussion when it comes to the vocal department. i just end up saying he should get all the parts. but as far as i know, it’s mainly through civil discussion on how they divide the lines,” he laughs after confessing that, making viewers wonder how serious he was about what he just said. but he really drives it home, saying, “everyone in p1harmony has a unique voice, but i just really gravitate towards [name] hyung’s, i don’t know why because it’s been like this since we were trainees.”

“do you often get writing slumps or are unable to create something that suits your taste? was it especially challenging this time because you knew you were preparing for a full length album?”

jongseob hummed again, finding these questions fun to answer, “i mean, of course, everyone gets writer’s block. i just try getting over it as soon as possible by listening to music that i like and thinking of that as inspiration. but if it gets really bad, i just distance myself and try relaxing,”

“how do you relax then?”

“just sleeping, or spending time with the members, but mainly sleeping. i don’t like to over exert myself with dancing or vocal exercise too much, so i rely on sleep and [name] hyung to recharge my personal battery,” he laughs at how silly it sounds, but nods to himself knowing that he told the truth.

after the behind the scenes video dropped, p1ece were quick to point out how often jongseob had mentioned you in any question regarding his creative process. and it was heartwarming to see that every mention of you was done with a smile and positive feeling.

“that’s how you know he really loves [name], he basically called him his muse”

“[name] has been supporting him since they debut so its no surprise jongseob is so open in involving in his song writing and stuff, it’s really nice to see that nothing has changed between these two <333”

→ “i hope they can be together for the longest time, they really compliment each other so well”

“when i’m in an appreciating [name] contest and my opponent is kim jongseob.”

“the fact that he thinks about how to the song will sound with [name]’s voice in mind, this lil boy from p1harmony really does love [name]”

“the vitamin’s vitamin is [name] lollol”

— opposite to shota, doesn’t mind sharing his clothes with you. he finds it cute that sometimes he randomly picks a shirt from his dresser and it’s one of yours. and he loves when you two are seeing each other for the first time in the morning and he instantly recognizes the shirt that you’re wearing as his. jongseob’s style is very comfortable, baggy clothes, so it’s mainly sweatpants, hoodies, and oversized t-shirts that end up being co-owned by you. he genuinely doesn’t mind. in exchange, he takes some of your clothes too! so it’s basically a fair trade off (not underwear though, he’s no a #nasty gal like intak — who definitely doesn’t mind sharing underwear with you lmao). loves when they’re on the more oversized end because that’s just his style. loves absolutely drowning in whatever garment he’s wearing that is actually yours. playing with the strings of the sweatpants or snapping the waist band against his skin several times, making his hands drown in the hoodie sleeves, he just finds it so fun to play with clothes if they’re yours. welcomes you to do the same with his too.

— has a really sentimental photo of the two of you at his work desk. it’s in a simple, but nice, frame and was from your trainee days together. you’re both so much younger, obviously too, but you’re both smiling so wide it’s infectious to him each time he sees it and he smiles too. he thinks it was intak or keeho that took the photo, he can’t remember anymore.

it was when everyone was in the practice room for much later than they should’ve been. he remembers being exhausted and just wanting to go home, but with some encouragement and energy from you, he was determined to get through the entire practice. and when it was announced they were finally done, the two of you collapsed onto the hardwood floor and were just panting in fatigue. the reason you were laughing was just the synchronicity of the action, making you turn to face each other and burst out into a fit of laughs.

whoever had snapped the photo took it in a the fraction of a second, showing it to you two with a proud look on his face. you requested for it to be printed out while jongseob only felt as though it was just a silly photo. when he saw it printed out, though, he suddenly felt sentimental about the memory and wanted his own copy.

he’s recently taken up photography nowadays and it’s usually film, sometimes digital. but with each picture he takes of you, he always tells himself that he’ll end up adding that photo to the one existing on his desk. but he can’t bring himself to choose one out of the stack of printed photos he has of you, so he usually just keeps them safe in his dorm room, occasionally hanging one up there. but never in his studio. he finds that the singular one there is a strong enough memory for him to use as inspiration to keep trying harder and harder each time he works. he doesn’t want to disappoint the you and him of the past, the ones that worked so hard to get to where you were now.

— jongseob being an extremely sentimental guy, but in private. and if not in private, quietly in public. no one really notices this about him, but it’s especially obvious whenever the conversation regards you. he knows he owes so much to you, for what you provided for him during their pre-debut days, and he doesn’t want to let you down now. he continues to push himself in excelling for that reason, as well as a multitude of others (such as, wanting to see the group truly succeed and get what they deserve). an incredibly emotional mature person for his age and it’s made obvious to others with how he carries himself and articulates his feelings. that’s another thing he accredits to you, for properly guiding him. another reason he can’t let you down.

┆ if u made it this far omg i applaud u...this shit is so long, i hope u enjoyed reading about seventh member piwon endeavors!!! i had fun writing them and imagining them. i tried to make it non-repetitive as possible too, and i think (?) i did a relatively good job with that because each members felt unique in some way :3 okay bye thank u sm for reading - if u got this far !!

[xoxorealitygalore]

Trust and Believe

Trust and believe me

You're gonna need me

Trust and believe me

She'll never be me

Authors note: I’m nervous as hell! This is my first time writing…well I mean publishing one of the many stories that I’ve written in my Google docs on here. This is one of my goals for 2025. So let’s see how it works out for me. Enjoy.

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

TMZ EXCLUSIVE

KEYSHIA ANOA’I

ARRESTED FOR ASSAULTING WOMAN

In Roman Reigns's Penthouse

Keyshia Anoa’i spent a not-so-pleasant Monday morning in jail ... after allegedly assaulting a woman who apparently spent the night with Keyshia's husband WWE wrestler Roman Reigns.

Keyshia showed up at the swanky penthouse building in Miami at around 5 AM. We're told she came to Miami to surprise her husband after being on tour for two months.

Our sources say ... she got into the penthouse and she saw another woman and went nuts.

We're told Keyshia attacked her ... leaving scratches and knots all over her face. Cops were called ... and Keyshia was arrested for battery.

She was just released on $46,000 bail, which her husband paid.

We called Reigns and Keyshia's reps ... so far no comment.

Keyshia Anoa'i, a soulful R&B singer with a string of chart-topping hits, had always prided herself on her relationship with Joe Anoa'i, better known to the world as WWE wrestler Roman Reigns. Since their marriage in 2010, they had built a life together—one that, from the outside, appeared perfect. On the surface, they were the picture of success and love, navigating the pressures of their high-profile careers while raising a family. But as the years went by, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The more their careers flourished, the more the distance between them seemed to grow.

Joe’s career as Roman Reigns had skyrocketed. His fame and schedule with WWE meant long stretches of time on the road, and his larger-than-life persona brought both admiration and envy from fans and fellow wrestlers alike. Keyshia, on the other hand, had continued her journey as a chart-topping artist. Touring, recording, and engaging with her fans had become a huge part of her life, but it also meant being away from Joe for extended periods.

The couple's physical separation, driven by the demands of their respective careers, slowly became emotional as well. What started as occasional misunderstandings soon evolved into deeper issues. Trust, communication, and intimacy—key components of any relationship—were fraying at the edges. Joe’s long absences and late-night workouts at the gym were often coupled with his refusal to share much about his personal life. He bought a penthouse in Miami without consulting Keyshia first, something that, in hindsight, symbolized the growing distance between them. He would justify it as his need for space, a private place to unwind after a grueling schedule. Keyshia didn’t think much of it at first, but deep down, it only served to fuel the quiet fire of suspicion she had begun to feel.

Over time, those suspicions grew. Keyshia had always trusted Joe, but there was something about his behavior that began to feel off. His late nights, his constant phone calls, and his cryptic responses when asked about his time away made her wonder if there was something more going on. It was the kind of feeling that gnawed at her insides—a woman's intuition that something wasn’t right. She had asked him about it a few times, but each time, Joe brushed her off, assuring her there was nothing to worry about. But Keyshia’s gut told her otherwise.

On the night in question, Keyshia had just finished her twentieth show as a part of her five-month tour, Trust and Believe Tour, and decided to surprise Joe at his Miami penthouse. She was exhausted, but her mind was consumed with thoughts of reconnecting with her husband, of finding a sense of closeness that had been missing for so long. She’d gotten a few days off and felt it was the perfect opportunity to show him how much she still cared. However, what she didn’t know was that Joe had been keeping secrets—secrets that would soon be laid bare in a shocking way.

Keyshia arrived at the penthouse, a place she had visited only occasionally over the years. She felt a flutter of excitement as she stepped out of the car and walked toward the building. She imagined the surprise on Joe’s face when he opened the door to see her. Perhaps they would have a romantic evening, catch up on lost time, and rebuild the emotional connection they had once shared. But as she approached the door and inserted the key card, everything changed in an instant.

Keyshia stepped into the penthouse and froze. The sight before her took the breath right out of her chest. There, in the living room, was Joe—her husband—sitting on the couch with another woman. The woman was leaning into him, and Joe appeared to be speaking to her in a way that was far too intimate for a simple friendship. The woman’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of Keyshia, and Keyshia’s heart dropped. The floor beneath her seemed to disappear, and all at once, years of confusion, pain, and suspicion crashed down on her.

Her first instinct was to confront Joe, but the anger that surged within her was overwhelming. She felt her fists clench at her sides, and before she could think, she marched toward the woman and pushed her away from Joe. In the heat of the moment, words failed her, and all she could do was physically lash out. She slapped the woman’s face, threw punches, and clawed at her in a fit of rage. The betrayal, the hurt, the disbelief—all of it culminated in an uncontrollable outburst. Keyshia wasn’t thinking about the consequences; she was thinking only about the woman sitting with her husband, a woman who had crossed a line that Keyshia had never expected.

The woman screamed in surprise and tried to back away, but Keyshia was relentless, shoving her toward the door, her hands swiping and scratching. "Stay the fuck away from my man," Keyshia spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I better not evee catch you around my husbans again! Slut bucket!"

In the chaos, Joe stood up, trying to intervene, his voice raised in an attempt to calm the situation. But the damage had already been done. A neighbor heard the commotion and called the police, who arrived shortly afterward to find Keyshia still at the scene, her emotions running wild. The officers quickly subdued her, arresting her for misdemeanor battery. The police report would later note that Keyshia had struck the woman multiple times and caused visible scratches on her face. As the cuffs were placed on her wrists, Keyshia’s mind was a swirl of emotions—confusion, anger, and heartbreak. It wasn’t just the sight of Joe with another woman that cut her so deeply, but the years of tension that had been building up between them. This, she realized, was the breaking point.

At the police station, Keyshia was left alone in a holding cell for what felt like an eternity. The time felt like a blur, and every second she spent behind those bars was another moment for her emotions to spiral. She had always been known for her composed and graceful persona in the public eye, but here she was—gripped by raw emotion, fighting to make sense of the man she had married, the man who had been her partner for over a decade. Joe had always been her rock, her protector. But in that moment, he had shattered her trust in a way that felt irreparable.

Hours later, Joe arrived at the police station to bail her out. He appeared tired, his usually sharp features softened by concern and frustration. His presence was both comforting and maddening. He had been the one to create this mess, yet now he was here, trying to smooth things over as though nothing had happened. When Keyshia saw him, her anger flared up once more, but she fought to control it. She had no idea what she was supposed to feel at that moment—anger at Joe, at the woman, at herself—or a combination of all of it.

"Keyshia, you can’t keep doing this," Joe said softly, his voice strained as they walked out of the police department together.

"You’re telling me what to do? You’re the one cheating while I’m on tour, Joe!" Keyshia snapped, getting right up in his face. Her voice was trembling, but it was also fierce. Every word she spoke was filled with pain. How could he do this to her? To their family? She had trusted him, loved him, and this was how he repaid her?

Joe sighed, his frustration evident. "Chill, we ain’t even leave the police department yet."

Keyshia’s heart felt like it was breaking all over again. She wanted to scream, to hit him, but instead, she just exhaled deeply, the fight leaving her body as quickly as it had come. She felt drained, emotionally and physically. She had never imagined that their love story would end up like this, not in a million years.

The drive back to Joe’s penthouse was silent, filled only with the sound of the engine humming in the background. Keyshia stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts, while Joe kept his eyes on the road. There was no quick fix for what had happened, no simple apology that could erase the betrayal Keyshia had felt. But as the minutes passed, she couldn’t help but wonder: Could they find their way back from this? Was there still hope for them? Or had the damage been done beyond repair?

For Keyshia, the road ahead was uncertain. The life she had built with Joe, a life she had once believed in so fully, now felt like a house of cards, teetering on the edge of collapse. Would they find a way to rebuild, or would this be the end of their story? Only time would tell.