occasionally subtle
Jules of Nature
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird
Claire Keane
art blog(derogatory)
AnasAbdin
styofa doing anything
KIROKAZE
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
PR's Tumblrdome
trying on a metaphor
titsay
JBB: An Artblog!
RMH
noise dept.
seen from Australia
seen from T1
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Switzerland
seen from Switzerland
seen from T1
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Netherlands
seen from Switzerland
seen from Brazil
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
@kpopdiva89
♡ welcome to my little corner of tumblr ♡
multifandom chaos • k-pop enthusiast • professional collector of fictional people and emotional support idols.
feel free to send asks, scream about comebacks, share your ult biases, or just hang out ✧
About Me/Rules
Request Are OPEN
Perm. Taglist OPEN
Spotify
Requests will be posted whenever done
Ateez
Stray Kids
Series 2026 2027
Other Groups / Individuals
Crossovers
All headers and dividers used on this blog are made by me. Also the wallpapers are made by me. Please like or reblog when used.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
my friend just sent this from twitter im crying
Ateez in 2050😹😹
Media Rumors
Part 13
The first official article drops on a Thursday.
You know that because Liv bursts into your hotel suite in Paris before eight in the morning holding two coffees and the expression of someone bringing bad news.
"You can't throw anything at me," she says immediately.
You sit up in bed, still half asleep.
"That depends entirely on what you're about to say."
Liv hands you a coffee first.
Bribery.
Concerning.
Then she places her phone in your lap.
You look down.
Your stomach drops.
The headline is worse than the grainy dinner photos.
AMERICAN POP STAR ARDEN BLAKE AND ATEEZ'S HONGJOONG: INDUSTRY INSIDERS CONFIRM GROWING CLOSENESS
You blink once.
Then again.
"They don't know anything," you say automatically.
Liv sits at the foot of the bed.
"They never do."
You scroll.
Anonymous sources.
Speculation.
The Coachella meeting.
The New York visit.
The fan theories.
None of it confirmed.
None of it entirely wrong, either.
Your chest tightens.
Because that's the problem.
Rumors built entirely from lies were easy to dismiss.
Rumors built around truth?
Those were harder.
—
Seoul.
Hongjoong is halfway through reviewing stage changes when his manager quietly sets a phone beside him.
He already knows.
Nobody interrupts work looking that uncomfortable unless it's serious.
He picks it up.
Reads the headline.
Then immediately closes his eyes.
"How bad?" he asks.
His manager sighs.
"Not terrible."
Hongjoong raises an eyebrow.
"That doesn't sound reassuring."
"It's spreading internationally."
He exhales slowly.
Of course it is.
He doesn't ask for his phone back.
He already knows exactly whose messages he'll find there.
—
Your phone buzzes before you can decide whether to text him first.
Hongjoong
Are you okay?
You stare at the screen.
Then laugh quietly.
Of course.
The world could be falling apart, and that would still be his first question.
Arden
I should be asking you that.
Three dots.
Hongjoong
Deflecting.
Arden
Avoidance is my brand.
Almost immediately:
Hongjoong
Liar.
Despite everything, you smile.
Then your phone rings.
You answer on the first ring.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Silence settles briefly.
Not awkward.
Careful.
"How bad is it there?" you ask.
Hongjoong exhales softly.
"I've had worse."
You don't miss what he doesn't say.
That it's still bad.
"Are you sure?"
"No."
The honesty catches you off guard.
Then again—
It shouldn't.
"I don't like this," he admits.
You lean back against the headboard.
"Because it's invasive?"
"Because they're talking about you."
Your breath catches.
The concern in his voice isn't self-protective.
It's directed outward.
Toward you.
You close your eyes briefly.
"They're talking about both of us."
"I know how this works for me," he says quietly.
The implication settles heavily between you.
He knows his industry.
Its expectations.
Its pressures.
You know yours too.
But they're different.
Complicated in different ways.
"I'm okay," you say softly.
"Okay," he repeats.
"Are you actually okay?"
You laugh quietly.
"You ask that a lot."
"You avoid answering it a lot."
Fair.
You stare out the hotel window overlooking Paris.
"I don't know," you admit.
Another silence.
Then:
"Me neither."
—
Two days later, you're leaving a radio interview when the first direct question comes.
"Arden!"
You pause automatically.
The reporter smiles.
"Are you dating Hongjoong?"
The world narrows instantly.
Liv steps beside you.
Security shifts.
Cameras flash.
You maintain your smile.
Professional.
Polished.
"We're here to talk about the album," you answer smoothly.
Then you keep walking.
Inside the car afterward, you stare straight ahead.
Liv glances over.
"You handled that well."
You nod.
Then whisper:
"I hate this."
—
Across the world, Hongjoong experiences the same thing.
Different language.
Same question.
Same cameras.
Same scrutiny.
The interviewer laughs nervously.
"Fans are very curious."
Hongjoong smiles politely.
"We appreciate everyone's support."
It's a masterclass in saying absolutely nothing.
His members know him well enough to notice the tension anyway.
Later that night, Seonghwa quietly sits beside him.
"You okay?"
Hongjoong doesn't answer immediately.
Then:
"I don't know."
Seonghwa nods.
"You like her."
Not a question.
Hongjoong stares down at the water bottle in his hands.
"...Yeah."
The word comes easier than expected.
Because maybe that's not the difficult part anymore.
Seonghwa bumps his shoulder lightly.
"Then figure it out."
Simple advice.
Impossible execution.
—
That night, you call each other.
No preamble.
No pretending.
"I got asked directly today," you tell him.
"So did I."
"How'd you handle it?"
"The same way you did."
You smile slightly.
Professional.
Careful.
Safe.
The silence that follows is heavier than usual.
Because the rumors are no longer theoretical.
They're real.
Public.
Growing.
"Do you regret it?" Hongjoong asks suddenly.
You freeze.
"What?"
"This."
The word hangs in the air.
This.
The conversations.
The visits.
The feelings neither of you has fully named.
Your throat tightens.
"No."
The answer arrives instantly.
Without hesitation.
A pause.
Then softer:
"You?"
His response is immediate too.
"No."
Relief rushes through you so quickly it almost hurts.
"I'm scared," he admits quietly.
You close your eyes.
Not because you don't understand.
Because you do.
"I'm scared too."
The honesty settles between you.
Heavy.
Necessary.
Real.
"I don't know what we're doing," you whisper.
A small laugh crackles through the speaker.
"I don't think we've known for a while."
Despite everything, you laugh too.
Because somehow that's true.
You've been building this thing without instructions.
Without guarantees.
Without certainty.
Just choice.
Over and over again.
"I wish I could see you," Hongjoong says softly.
The words ache.
Because you wish the same thing.
Soon, you almost say.
But schedules remain impossible.
Distance remains real.
Instead:
"Me too."
Silence.
"We'll figure it out."
You smile faintly.
"That sounds suspiciously optimistic."
"I've been told I'm dangerous."
You laugh quietly.
"Only creatively."
A pause.
Then softer:
"Goodnight, Arden."
Your chest tightens.
"Goodnight, Hongjoong."
After the call ends, you sit by the hotel window long after Paris has gone quiet.
Your phone remains in your hand.
The rumors will continue.
The questions will get louder.
The pressure will increase.
You know that now.
But beneath all of that noise sits one undeniable truth:
When Hongjoong asked if you regretted this
Neither of you hesitated before saying no.
And maybe that answer means more than either of you is ready to admit.
Previous B.Y.B.T.M. Next
Operation: Find Kuma
Backstage before a concert was never quiet.
Someone was always yelling about batteries, missing in-ears, camera blocking, wardrobe changes, or stage timing. Staff members rushed past with clipboards. Stylists darted between dressing rooms carrying curling irons and emergency sewing kits. Music from the arena leaked through the walls in heavy vibrating bass.
Normally, you thrived in it.
As Stray Kids’ performance director, chaos was practically your natural habitat.
But today you were balancing one extra responsibility.
Your little sister.
“Haejin, stay next to me, okay?” you reminded for what had to be the fifteenth time that afternoon as you adjusted the cue sheet in your hands.
“I am next to you,” the seven-year-old protested dramatically.
You glanced down.
She was, technically, attached to the back of your hoodie with one tiny fist while clutching a worn brown teddy bear against her chest with the other.
Kuma.
The bear looked ancient at this point. One ear was slightly flattened, its fur faded from years of being loved too hard, and the stitched smile had begun unraveling on one side after an unfortunate juice incident two years ago.
Haejin treated it like royalty anyway.
Your parents had left town unexpectedly that morning, and after failing to find a babysitter, you’d reluctantly brought Haejin to the venue.
Thankfully, the members adored her.
“Director-nim!”
You turned just in time for Chan to jog toward you holding two iced coffees.
Bang Chan grinned tiredly. “You forgot this in rehearsal.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“I know,” he said proudly before crouching in front of Haejin. “And hello to my favorite tiny employee.”
“I’m not an employee.”
“You boss us around more than management does.”
“That’s because you don’t listen.”
Chan looked genuinely offended.
Behind him, Changbin burst into loud laughter while Jisung nearly dropped his phone.
“She got you,” Jisung wheezed.
“I’m betrayed in my own workplace.”
Haejin giggled into Kuma’s fur.
Your shoulders loosened slightly.
At least she was comfortable here.
That comfort lasted approximately three hours.
By the time final stage checks began, the venue had become complete madness.
Wardrobe staff hurried around with last-minute fixes. Backup dancers rehearsed transitions in the hallways. Someone yelled about pyrotechnics. Managers were counting down time in increasingly stressed voices.
You were halfway through discussing camera angles with production when you realized one very important thing.
Haejin wasn’t beside you anymore.
Your stomach dropped instantly.
You excused yourself so quickly the cameraman barely finished his sentence before you were moving through the backstage corridors.
“Haejin?” you called.
Nothing.
Panic crawled up your throat.
She knew not to wander.
You checked the waiting room first.
Empty.
Then catering.
Nothing.
Then the side hallway near the wardrobe stations—
A small sniffle stopped you cold.
You turned sharply.
Haejin sat curled up behind a stack of equipment cases, knees tucked to her chest.
Without Kuma.
“Oh my god.”
You rushed over immediately.
“Haejin, baby, what happened?”
The moment she looked up at you with watery eyes, she broke completely.
“K-Kuma’s gone.”
Your heart sank.
“Oh no…”
“I had him during snack time and then I put him down because I needed both hands and now I can’t find him anywhere.” Her voice cracked harder with every word. “He’s scared because he doesn’t know where I am.”
You crouched immediately, pulling her into your arms.
“It’s okay. We’ll find him.”
“But what if someone took him?”
“Nobody took him.”
“What if he got stepped on?”
You swallowed.
“We’ll find him before that happens.”
“You promise?”
Before you could answer, another voice spoke nearby.
“What happened?”
You looked up to find Seungmin standing in the hallway, still half dressed for stage rehearsal with one in-ear hanging around his neck.
Haejin wiped at her eyes miserably.
“Kuma’s missing.”
Seungmin blinked once.
Then twice.
“The bear?”
She nodded pitifully.
You expected him to offer sympathy and continue getting ready.
Instead, his entire expression sharpened with terrifying seriousness.
“When was the last confirmed Kuma sighting?”
You stared at him.
“…What?”
“Time matters,” Seungmin said gravely, already kneeling beside Haejin like a detective handling an active case. “We need details.”
Haejin sniffled hard.
“During snack break.”
“Location?”
“Near the dressing room.”
“Possible suspects?”
You made a strangled sound.
Seungmin looked offended. “This is important.”
Haejin, somehow soothed by his ridiculous seriousness, answered immediately.
“Hyunjin held him earlier.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered.
Seungmin stood abruptly.
“We’re finding Kuma.”
Then he disappeared down the hallway.
You assumed he meant he’d casually look around while heading back to rehearsal.
You underestimated him horribly.
Because less than two minutes later, backstage exploded.
“WE LOST KUMA?”
You flinched at Changbin’s voice echoing through the corridor.
“How do you lose a whole bear?” Hyunjin demanded defensively.
“I DIDN’T LOSE HIM.”
“You literally admitted to holding him.”
“That’s not evidence!”
“What does Kuma look like?” Felix asked urgently.
“A brown teddy bear with a blue ribbon,” Seungmin answered immediately.
You blinked.
How did he know that?
“I showed him pictures once,” Haejin whispered.
Of course she had.
Within seconds, the situation spiraled into complete insanity.
Felix checked under equipment tables.
Hyunjin interrogated bewildered staff members like a crime investigator.
Minho opened random storage cabinets muttering, “Kuma, if you’re in here, blink twice.”
Jisung started drawing “missing bear” posters on an iPad.
Changbin marched through backstage booming:
“IF ANYONE SEES A TEDDY BEAR ANSWERING TO THE NAME KUMA REPORT IMMEDIATELY.”
“It doesn’t answer!” you hissed.
“You don’t know that!”
Meanwhile, Chan had somehow acquired a walkie-talkie.
“Control, this is Bang Chan. We have a Code Brown.”
The static crackled.
“…What does that mean?”
“Missing teddy bear.”
A pause.
Then:
“…Understood.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“This cannot be real.”
Beside you, Haejin looked awestruck.
“They’re really helping…”
Your chest softened immediately.
Because they were.
Not one complaint.
Not one annoyed look about losing rehearsal time.
Even though they were supposed to perform in less than thirty minutes, all eight members searched the venue like national security depended on it.
Seungmin returned first.
“No sign near makeup.”
Felix appeared next carrying three entirely unrelated stuffed animals.
“Wrong bears.”
“Where did you even find those?” Jeongin asked.
“I don’t know.”
A staff member jogged over breathlessly.
“Someone reported a teddy bear near stage left!”
The members MOVED.
You had never seen eight grown men sprint that fast backstage before.
Haejin gasped hopefully and ran after them.
You followed immediately.
Only for Changbin to pick up a small stuffed rabbit from the floor.
Silence.
“That’s…not Kuma,” he said quietly.
Haejin’s shoulders dropped.
“Oh.”
Changbin looked personally devastated.
“We keep moving,” Seungmin declared.
You genuinely couldn’t believe this was happening.
Ten minutes before stage call, tension backstage became unbearable.
Not because of the performance.
Because Kuma still hadn’t been found.
Haejin sat beside you again now, trying very hard not to cry harder.
“I should’ve held onto him better,” she whispered.
“No, sweetheart.”
“But Kuma was with me since I was little.”
Your heart cracked.
Across the room, the members exchanged glances.
Then Chan stood.
“Emergency meeting.”
“You have stage in ten minutes,” their manager warned.
“This is important.”
“It’s a stuffed bear.”
“It’s Haejin’s stuffed bear.”
The manager actually paused at that.
“…Fair.”
The members huddled together dramatically.
You watched, baffled, as they whispered intensely.
Finally, Seungmin pointed suddenly.
“Wait.”
Everyone turned.
“You said she lost Kuma after snack break?”
“Yes…”
“And during snack break…” He narrowed his eyes. “Jeongin stole everyone’s tangerines and hid in the prop hallway.”
Jeongin gasped. “Why am I involved?”
“Because you hide things in weird places.”
“That was ONE TIME.”
“You hid Hyunjin’s shoe in a lighting crate for two days.”
“It was funny.”
The members collectively ignored him and bolted toward the prop hallway.
At this point you were too exhausted to stop them.
The hallway was packed with stage equipment, spare props, cables, and storage bins.
“Split up,” Chan ordered.
“You are taking this way too seriously,” their manager muttered.
“No,” Seungmin replied immediately. “Not seriously enough.”
Haejin clung tightly to your hand while everyone searched.
“WAIT.”
Felix’s voice echoed loudly.
Every head snapped toward him.
He stood kneeling beside a stack of prop curtains.
Holding a small brown teddy bear with a faded blue ribbon.
Kuma.
For one full second, nobody moved.
Then Haejin shrieked.
“KUMA!”
She launched herself across the hallway so fast you nearly lost grip on her hand entirely.
Felix barely had time to open his arms before she crashed into him and the bear together.
“You found him!”
“I found him!”
“He was probably hiding,” Jisung said wisely.
“Kuma was scared,” Haejin informed seriously while hugging the bear tight enough to flatten it further.
Changbin actually wiped fake tears from his eyes.
“Family reunited.”
“Thank god,” Hyunjin sighed dramatically. “I was emotionally invested.”
The staff nearby burst into laughter.
Even their manager looked relieved.
You stared at the scene in complete disbelief.
Eight international idols.
One sold-out venue.
Thousands of fans waiting outside.
And somehow the biggest emergency backstage tonight had genuinely become finding a child’s stuffed bear.
Haejin suddenly turned toward the members, clutching Kuma tightly.
“Thank you for helping.”
The room collectively melted.
Chan crouched in front of her first.
“Always.”
“No more losing Kuma,” Minho warned the bear sternly.
“Kuma said okay,” Haejin replied.
“Good.”
Then stage call echoed through backstage.
“STRAY KIDS TO STAGE.”
Instant chaos resumed.
The members scrambled into formation mode immediately, stylists fixing jackets and adjusting microphones at lightning speed.
But before they left, Seungmin paused beside you.
“She okay now?”
You looked down at Haejin happily fixing Kuma’s ribbon.
“Yeah.”
Relief softened his expression instantly.
Then he shrugged casually like this entire ordeal hadn’t happened.
“Good. Couldn’t perform with unresolved emotional trauma backstage.”
You laughed despite yourself.
“You started this.”
“And I’d do it again.”
Then he jogged toward the stage while the others shouted over each other.
“Protect Kuma!”
“Kuma for honorary ninth member!”
“Put him on payroll!”
“I’m serious!” Changbin yelled.
Haejin giggled so hard she nearly fell over.
And as the opening VCR began shaking the walls moments later, she looked up at you with Kuma tucked safely in her arms.
“They’re really nice.”
You smiled softly watching the members prepare just beyond the curtain.
“Yeah,” you said quietly.
“They really are.”
Sonic Boom Secrets
Mingi should have realized the situation was spiraling out of control the second your little brother gasped at him with genuine awe and whispered, “Wait… idols are basically superheroes, right?”
Instead of acting like a responsible adult, he’d leaned forward across the couch with the most serious expression possible and said:
“Obviously.”
That had been everyone’s first mistake.
The second mistake was letting Mingi continue talking.
Now, less than forty-eight hours later, your eight-year-old brother was sprinting around the company building loudly informing every innocent employee, stylist, and delivery driver that ATEEZ were secretly protecting humanity from evil.
And somehow?
Every single member had become invested in the bit.
“You did WHAT?” you asked, staring at Mingi in horror.
Mingi pointed at himself defensively while sitting cross-legged on the practice room floor. “Why are you looking at me like that? It was funny!”
“Funny?”
Across the room, your little brother darted past at full speed with Wooyoung chasing after him.
“No running!” Yunho shouted.
“WE’RE TRAINING!” your brother yelled back.
“That’s somehow worse!”
Mingi looked entirely unrepentant.
“He just asked what our powers were,” he explained. “So I gave him powers.”
“You gave him an entire cinematic universe.”
“That’s because he asked follow-up questions.”
You dropped your face into your hands.
From beside you, Hongjoong sighed deeply.
“It started small,” he admitted.
You looked up slowly.
“You participated too?”
Hongjoong immediately pointed at Mingi.
“He was very convincing.”
“I’m ALWAYS convincing,” Mingi said proudly.
“Unfortunately true,” Seonghwa muttered.
Your brother suddenly skidded to a stop directly in front of you.
His eyes were huge with excitement.
“Noona,” he whispered dramatically, “did you know Captain Hongjoong can control lightning?”
Hongjoong immediately sat straighter.
“Yes,” he said gravely. “But only during thunderstorms.”
You stared at him.
“Traitor.”
Wooyoung burst into loud laughter.
Your brother whipped around instantly.
“And Wooyoung can move faster than cameras can see.”
Wooyoung struck a superhero pose.
“I’m basically impossible to catch.”
Yeosang deadpanned from the couch, “That’s true. I’ve tried.”
“YOU’RE ENCOURAGING HIM.”
“No,” Yeosang replied calmly. “I’m encouraging Wooyoung’s ego. Different thing.”
Your brother climbed onto the couch beside you and lowered his voice.
“Mingi-hyung told me their powers are secret because bad guys might attack them.”
You turned slowly toward Mingi.
“Mingi.”
“He ASKED why nobody knew!”
“So your solution was secret superhero warfare?”
“It made sense at the time!”
Jongho, who had been quietly drinking iced coffee in the corner, nodded once.
“To be fair, the logic chain was solid.”
“Not you too.”
Jongho shrugged.
“I’m apparently the strongest member. I support the narrative.”
Your brother bounced excitedly.
“Jongho-hyung can lift cars.”
“I absolutely never said that,” Jongho corrected.
A pause.
“...I said buses.”
The room erupted into laughter while you stared at the ceiling like you were searching for patience.
This was your life now.
Apparently.
—
It only got worse.
The next morning, you arrived at the company building to find your little brother standing in the lobby explaining the members’ powers to a deeply confused security guard.
“And San-hyung can control emotions,” he said earnestly. “So if you’re scared, he can make you brave.”
The poor guard nodded politely.
“I see.”
“And Yeosang-hyung can teleport.”
“Mm.”
“And Mingi-hyung can destroy buildings with soundwaves.”
The guard blinked.
You closed your eyes.
“Mingi.”
Mingi immediately raised both hands.
“I didn’t tell him to explain it to strangers!”
Your brother pointed accusingly.
“You said superheroes have to spread hope.”
Wooyoung collapsed against the wall laughing so hard he nearly slid to the floor.
Hongjoong was also laughing, though he kept pretending to cough instead.
“You’re all terrible influences,” you informed them.
San wrapped an arm around your shoulders sympathetically.
“We prefer the term imaginative mentors.”
“You’re literally making him think you fight crime at night.”
“We do fight crime,” Wooyoung argued.
“No, you don’t.”
“We fought over stolen fried chicken last week.”
“That was you stealing from each other.”
“A crime nonetheless.”
Your brother gasped dramatically.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked at him.
“You guys fight villains together?”
Eight grown men exchanged glances.
Then, simultaneously:
“Yes.”
You made the most exhausted noise imaginable.
—
The problem with children was that they committed to imagination with terrifying sincerity.
Which meant your little brother now believed every single word.
Completely.
He walked around with absolute confidence explaining that:
Hongjoong summoned storms.
Seonghwa trapped enemies in illusions.
Yunho manipulated gravity.
Yeosang teleported through shadows.
San could calm panic attacks with one touch.
Mingi’s voice created sonic explosions.
Wooyoung outran bullets.
And Jongho could punch through concrete walls.
At first, the members thought it was adorable.
Then your brother started telling strangers.
Every stranger.
At restaurants.
In elevators.
At convenience stores.
During lives.
Which was how you ended up watching in horror as your little brother climbed directly into Mingi’s lap during a livestream.
“Mingi-hyung,” he whispered loudly enough for the entire internet to hear, “can you show them your soundwave powers?”
The chat exploded instantly.
Mingi nearly choked.
Wooyoung disappeared off-camera because he was laughing too hard.
Hongjoong physically turned away from the camera to compose himself.
Meanwhile your brother looked completely serious.
“You said your rap can crack walls.”
Mingi recovered with alarming confidence.
“That’s classified information.”
“OH.”
Your brother nodded solemnly.
The comments moved so fast they became unreadable.
San buried his face in the couch cushions.
Jongho muttered, “We created a monster.”
“No,” Seonghwa corrected calmly. “Mingi created a monster. We simply failed to stop him.”
“That sounds legally safer.”
“Exactly.”
Your brother suddenly pointed at Yeosang.
“Tell them how you teleport!”
Yeosang blinked once.
Then he stood up.
Walked out of frame.
Waited three seconds.
And silently reappeared behind the couch.
Your brother screamed.
“MOMENTARY SHADOW TRANSPORTATION!”
The livestream chat completely lost its mind.
You nearly fell over laughing despite yourself.
Because honestly?
Yeosang’s timing had been incredible.
—
The members became increasingly dramatic after that.
Especially once they realized how delighted your little brother became whenever they stayed in character.
Yunho started pretending to “reduce gravity” before lifting him effortlessly onto his shoulders.
“See?” Yunho said proudly while your brother shrieked with laughter. “Low gravity zone.”
“That’s just because you’re tall,” you informed him.
Yunho ignored you.
Seonghwa became weirdly committed to illusion powers.
One afternoon, your brother wandered into the makeup room looking upset after losing a small toy.
Before you could help search, Seonghwa calmly held up a hand.
“Wait.”
He looked around the room thoughtfully.
Then pointed toward a pile of folded hoodies.
“An illusion was hiding it there.”
Your brother gasped.
The toy was actually there.
You stared at Seonghwa.
“How did you know?”
“I watched him put it there twenty minutes ago.”
“That’s significantly less magical.”
“Maybe to you.”
Your brother looked at Seonghwa like he’d personally hung the moon.
“You’re the strongest illusion wizard ever.”
Seonghwa looked genuinely emotional about it.
“Thank you.”
Meanwhile San used his so-called emotional manipulation powers for maximum chaos.
Your brother scraped his knee during a game one evening and immediately started crying.
Before you could comfort him, San crouched down carefully in front of him.
Then he gently tapped your brother’s forehead.
“Activating bravery powers,” he said softly.
Your brother sniffled.
“You can do that?”
“Of course.”
San held out his pinky.
“But bravery only works if you help too.”
Your brother straightened almost instantly.
“Okay.”
It was ridiculous.
Completely fake.
And somehow still weirdly sweet.
—
Unfortunately, the situation reached catastrophic levels during an outing to a shopping mall.
You should have known better.
The members attracted enough attention normally.
Adding an overexcited child with zero understanding of indoor voice control was basically social suicide.
Everything went wrong the second a group of fans recognized them near the food court.
The girls approached carefully and politely.
“Can we maybe get a picture?” one asked shyly.
“Of course,” Hongjoong said warmly.
The members gathered together automatically.
Your little brother stood proudly beside Mingi.
Then one fan smiled at him.
“Are you having fun today?”
Big mistake.
Your brother nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! They’re teaching me superhero stuff!”
The fans laughed softly.
You immediately sensed danger.
“Mingi—”
Too late.
“Captain Hongjoong controls lightning,” your brother announced confidently.
The fans blinked.
“And Yunho-hyung controls gravity.”
Yunho immediately looked away to hide his laughter.
“And Yeosang-hyung teleports through shadows.”
The girls were now visibly struggling not to laugh.
“And San-hyung can control emotions.”
San bowed seriously.
“It’s a burden I carry with humility.”
You slapped a hand over your face.
“And Jongho-hyung is super strong.”
One fan played along immediately.
“How strong?”
Your little brother spread his arms dramatically.
“He can throw buses.”
Jongho nearly inhaled his own drink.
Wooyoung collapsed against Mingi laughing.
Mingi himself looked seconds away from crying.
The fans were fully invested now.
“What about Wooyoung?” another asked.
“He’s super fast.”
Wooyoung vanished behind Yunho.
Then popped out from the opposite side.
Your brother gasped like he’d witnessed teleportation himself.
“SEE?!”
The fans applauded.
Actual applause.
You couldn’t survive this.
You genuinely couldn’t.
Then came the final blow.
A completely random middle-aged man walking past overheard the conversation.
Instead of continuing on with his day like a sane person, he stopped.
Looked directly at your little brother.
And asked very seriously:
“What’s Mingi’s power?”
Your brother’s entire face lit up.
“Mingi-hyung can destroy buildings with his voice.”
The man nodded thoughtfully.
“Ah. Sonic abilities.”
“YES.”
You stared at the stranger.
The stranger nodded at you once like this was perfectly normal.
Then walked away.
Hongjoong physically had to lean against a wall because he was laughing too hard to stand.
—
By the end of the week, your little brother had fully accepted the members as Earth’s secret protectors.
And honestly?
None of them wanted to correct him anymore.
Not after seeing how happy it made him.
Especially Mingi.
Because despite all the chaos, Mingi had become your brother’s absolute favorite.
The two of them were inseparable.
Mingi taught him silly dances.
Played games with him for hours.
Let him wear oversized hoodies that dragged across the floor.
And constantly whispered “classified superhero information” to him like they were partners on a top-secret mission.
One evening you found them sitting together in the studio.
Mingi was working quietly while your brother doodled pictures beside him.
“What’re you drawing?” you asked.
Your brother immediately held up the paper proudly.
It was a crayon drawing of ATEEZ.
Each member wore ridiculous superhero costumes.
Hongjoong stood in front throwing lightning.
Seonghwa had glowing eyes.
Yunho floated in the sky.
Yeosang disappeared into shadows.
San radiated giant hearts.
Wooyoung blurred like a tornado.
Jongho held an entire bus over one shoulder.
And Mingi stood in the center surrounded by giant soundwaves.
“They protect people,” your brother explained seriously.
Your chest tightened unexpectedly.
Because the drawing wasn’t really about superheroes.
Not entirely.
It was about safety.
Comfort.
Admiration.
The members had become people your brother trusted completely.
People who made him laugh.
People who played along with his imagination instead of dismissing it.
Mingi noticed your expression immediately.
“What?” he asked softly.
You shook your head.
“Nothing.”
Then smiled.
“Thanks for being good to him.”
Mingi blinked.
Like the sincerity caught him off guard.
“He’s fun,” he admitted quietly.
Your brother suddenly pointed at Mingi’s laptop speakers.
“Can you use your powers?”
Mingi immediately straightened.
“Absolutely.”
You groaned.
Mingi deepened his voice dramatically.
“SONIC BLAST ACTIVATION.”
Then he pressed play on a demo track so loud it startled everyone in the room.
Your brother screamed with delighted laughter.
You nearly jumped out of your skin.
And outside the studio, Hongjoong yelled:
“IF YOU BROKE THE SPEAKERS AGAIN I’M TAKING YOUR SUPERPOWERS AWAY!”
Mingi yelled back immediately.
“YOU CAN’T! THE COUNCIL CHOSE ME!”
Your brother looked at you with absolute wonder.
“There’s a superhero council?”
You looked at the ceiling.
Long pause.
Then, despite every ounce of better judgment:
“…Unfortunately, yes.”
Your brother cheered loud enough for the entire hallway to hear.
And somewhere outside the room, eight grown men immediately started arguing over who got to be council leader.
Which honestly proved one thing.
Maybe they really were superheroes.
Because only superhuman patience could survive this level of chaos every single day.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Yes Korea Won🎉
Misunderstanding
Part 12
The problem starts with a photo.
Not because the photo is bad.
Because it arrives without context.
And when distance already exists between two people, context becomes everything.
—
You are in London.
Rainy.
Cold.
Running on four hours of sleep and entirely too much coffee.
The promo schedule for your upcoming album has become ridiculous.
Interviews.
Radio appearances.
Photoshoots.
Industry events.
Repeat.
You haven't had a real day off in almost three weeks.
Meanwhile, Kim Hongjoong is somewhere between rehearsals, recordings, and preparations for another international schedule with ATEEZ.
You're still talking.
Still texting.
Still calling when you can.
But "when you can" is becoming a frighteningly small window.
And neither of you likes it.
—
The photo appears while you're getting your makeup touched up backstage before an interview.
Liv sends it.
No warning.
Just:
Liv You should probably see this before Twitter does.
Your stomach drops instantly.
Never a good sign.
You open it.
Then stare.
It's Hongjoong.
Leaving a restaurant in Seoul.
Laughing.
Standing beside a woman.
Young.
Beautiful.
Comfortable.
The photos are grainy.
But not grainy enough.
The headline underneath reads:
ATEEZ'S HONGJOONG SPOTTED ON PRIVATE DINNER DATE
You immediately roll your eyes.
Because tabloids are ridiculous.
You know that.
You live that.
Still—
Your gaze drifts back to the photo.
Then again.
Then again.
And before you can stop yourself, a tiny voice whispers:
Who is she?
—
You hate that question immediately.
Hate yourself for asking it.
Hate the feeling behind it even more.
Because technically—
You have no right.
None.
You and Hongjoong have never defined anything.
Never labeled anything.
Never had the conversation.
So why does your stomach suddenly feel awful?
—
The interview goes badly.
Not visibly.
Professionally, you're perfect.
Smiling.
Charming.
Articulate.
Nobody watching would notice.
But your attention keeps slipping.
Your answers come half a second slower than usual.
Your focus drifts.
The photo keeps reappearing in your head.
By the end of the segment, you're exhausted.
And angry.
Mostly at yourself.
—
Three hours later, your phone buzzes.
Hongjoong
Your chest tightens immediately.
You stare at the screen.
Then answer.
Simple.
Hongjoong
How did the interview go?
Normal.
Like nothing happened.
You look at the message.
Then the photo again.
Then back.
Your fingers hover.
Finally:
Seen.
Arden
Fine.
Almost immediately.
You shouldn't do this.
Hongjoong
Just fine?
You know you shouldn't.
But exhaustion and insecurity are a dangerous combination.
The typing bubble appears.
Arden
Looked like your dinner went well too.
Stops.
Appears again.
Then disappears completely.
Your stomach drops.
Because now you know.
Now he knows.
—
Five minutes pass.
Then your phone rings.
You consider ignoring it.
You don't.
"Hi."
The second the call connects, you know something is wrong.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Wrong.
"Arden."
His voice is careful.
Too careful.
You close your eyes briefly.
"Who is she?"
The question escapes before you can stop it.
Silence.
"...What?"
You immediately hate how small your voice sounds.
"The girl in the pictures."
A longer silence.
"Oh."
Just that.
Oh.
Which somehow makes everything worse.
You stand from the makeup chair and walk into an empty hallway.
Away from everyone.
Away from cameras.
Away from witnesses.
"You don't have to explain anything," you say quickly.
"Arden."
"I mean it."
"Arden."
The second time is firmer.
You stop talking.
Hongjoong exhales slowly.
"She's my cousin."
You blink.
Once.
Twice.
"...What?"
"My cousin."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
"My mother's niece."
You physically close your eyes.
"Oh my God."
On the other end of the line, you hear him laugh.
Not because it's funny.
Because it's unbelievable.
You slide down the wall and cover your face.
"Oh my God."
"There it is."
"Please stop."
"There it is."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
Unfortunately.
No.
You don't.
—
The embarrassment should end there.
It doesn't.
Because Hongjoong suddenly gets very quiet.
The kind of quiet you've learned means he's thinking.
Dangerous.
"You were jealous."
You immediately sit upright.
"No."
A pause.
Then:
"Arden."
"Oh, don't."
"You were."
"I was not."
"You absolutely were."
Your face burns.
Thank God he can't see it.
"This conversation is over."
A soft laugh.
"No, it's not."
You groan dramatically.
Then bury your face in your hands.
Because the truly horrible part?
He's right.
Not entirely.
But enough.
Enough to make this conversation impossible.
—
The silence that follows feels different.
Not awkward.
Not tense.
Something else.
Something neither of you has fully acknowledged before.
Hongjoong breaks it first.
Quietly.
"Genuinely."
You freeze.
His voice has changed.
Softer now.
More serious.
"You thought I was on a date."
Not a question.
An observation.
You swallow.
"...Maybe."
A long pause.
"Did it bother you?"
You close your eyes.
Because there it is.
The actual question.
Not the cousin.
Not the article.
Not the misunderstanding.
The thing underneath.
The thing you've both been avoiding for months.
Your heart pounds.
Hard.
Too hard.
And for the first time since Coachella, you don't know what the right answer is.
Only the honest one.
"...Yes."
The silence afterward is deafening.
Not bad.
Just huge.
Because once something is spoken aloud, it can't be unsaid.
You hear Hongjoong inhale slowly.
Then exhale.
"Okay."
That's it.
Just okay.
But somehow that single word changes everything.
Because neither of you can pretend anymore that this is only friendship.
And neither of you seems ready to say what comes next.
Not yet.
—
When the call ends an hour later, you've talked about everything except the actual thing.
Work.
Music.
Schedules.
Touring.
Anything but the fact that your heart nearly stopped over a tabloid photo.
Anything but the fact that Hongjoong sounded suspiciously pleased when he realized why.
As you're getting ready for bed that night, your phone buzzes one final time.
You stare at it.
Hongjoong
For the record.
Then open the message.
Your breath catches.
Hongjoong
If I was taking someone on a date, you wouldn't find out through Twitter.
The typing bubble appears again.
You stare at the screen for a very long time.
Hongjoong
Goodnight, Arden.
Then finally type back.
But sleep doesn't come easily.
Arden
Goodnight.
Because for the first time, the line between what you are and what you could be no longer feels blurry.
It feels terrifyingly clear.
Previous B.Y.B.T.M. Next
The Weak Link
"You know what's funny?"
Hongjoong looked up from his phone.
"What?"
Wooyoung grinned.
" Y/N is on VESPERA's football team."
Around the waiting room, several heads lifted.
"Y/N?" Mingi asked.
"The cute one?" San added.
"The vocalist?" Jongho questioned.
Wooyoung nodded.
"The vocalist."
A few seconds passed.
Then everyone collectively relaxed.
"Well."
Yunho shrugged.
"That's one less person to worry about."
The room erupted in agreement.
Because honestly?
No one was scared of Y/N.
She was adorable.
Always smiling.
Always laughing.
The type who got excited over snacks and hugged people when she got emotional.
The type who looked like she'd apologize to a football if she kicked it too hard.
So when KQ announced their special World Cup content—
ATEEZ vs VESPERA
XIKERS vs NOVAKID
—the immediate assumption had been that VESPERA would get absolutely destroyed.
ATEEZ had Yunho.
And Yunho alone was terrifying.
The man was built like he'd been engineered specifically for sports.
Meanwhile VESPERA?
Half their members looked like they belonged in a fantasy movie.
Not a football stadium.
Unfortunately for ATEEZ.
Nobody had asked Y/N where she grew up.
It started during warm-ups.
The filming crew was setting up cameras.
Staff members were everywhere.
The idols were stretching.
And Y/N had a football tucked under one arm.
"Ready?" she asked.
Ara grinned.
"Always."
Y/N dropped the ball.
Kicked it up.
One touch.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The ball never touched the ground.
She casually bounced it between her knees.
Her shoulders.
The side of her foot.
Then launched it high into the air.
Everyone nearby stopped.
The ball came down.
Y/N trapped it perfectly with the top of her foot.
Like she'd done it ten thousand times before.
Because she had.
Silence.
Seonghwa blinked.
"...what."
Y/N looked up.
"Oh."
She smiled.
"Morning!"
The ball was still balanced on her foot.
"What was that?" Wooyoung asked.
Yunho frowned.
"Maybe beginner's luck?"
"Beginner's luck?"
"You can't have beginner's luck with that."
"True."
Then Y/N casually turned.
Passed the ball backward without looking.
Directly to Minseo.
Minseo immediately kicked it back.
Y/N caught it.
Spun.
Passed to Jiwon.
Jiwon trapped it.
Passed to Ara.
Ara headed it.
Back to Y/N.
No one dropped the ball.
Not once.
It looked less like warm-ups.
And more like a professional drill.
ATEEZ stared.
XIKERS stared.
NOVAKID stared.
The staff stared.
"Guys."
Yeosang spoke quietly.
"I don't think they're bad."
"No."
Hongjoong agreed.
"I don't think so either."
The first red flag should have been when the referee blew the whistle.
And Y/N immediately stole the ball from Yunho.
Everyone expected Yunho to dominate.
Instead—
Y/N slipped around him.
The entire stadium gasped.
Not because she shoved him.
Not because she fouled him.
Because she was fast.
Ridiculously fast.
The kind of speed you developed from years of street football.
The kind built from endless games with neighborhood kids.
The kind that came naturally.
She darted past two defenders.
Cut left.
Cut right.
Then launched a perfect pass.
Goal.
VESPERA.
One minute into the game.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then:
"WHAT?"
Wooyoung's voice echoed across the field.
Y/N laughed so hard she almost tripped.
"Sorry!"
"WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING?"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
The game resumed.
ATEEZ were no longer smiling.
Five minutes later.
San tried taking the ball.
Y/N nutmegged him.
The entire field exploded.
"NO."
Wooyoung collapsed dramatically.
"NOT SAN."
"IT WENT BETWEEN HIS LEGS."
"I SAW IT."
"THAT'S SO EMBARRASSING."
San covered his face.
"I hate football."
"You liked football ten minutes ago."
"I've changed."
The score became 2–0.
Then 3–0.
Then 3–1.
Then 4–1.
Every single goal somehow involved Y/N.
Not necessarily scoring.
Creating.
Setting up.
Directing.
Reading the field.
"Why is she good at everything?" Mingi demanded.
The answer arrived during halftime.
The teams sat under the tents.
Breathing heavily.
Drinking water.
ATEEZ looked mildly traumatized.
VESPERA looked delighted.
Hongjoong pointed.
"You."
Y/N looked up.
"Me?"
"Yes. You."
"What?"
"Explain."
She blinked.
"Explain what?"
"Football."
"Oh."
Realization hit.
"I grew up in the Netherlands."
Silence.
Then:
"Oh."
"Oh."
"Oh."
"Ohhhhh."
Suddenly everything made sense.
Y/N nodded.
"My dad used to coach a youth team."
"You played?"
"Since I was six."
"Competitively?"
"Until trainee life."
Yunho looked horrified.
"Why didn't anyone tell us?"
"No one asked."
The xikers members were dying.
"You guys thought she was bad?"
"YES."
"Why?"
"Look at her."
"What does that mean?"
"She looks cute."
Y/N stared.
"So cute people can't play football?"
"Apparently."
The girls immediately burst out laughing.
"And then," Ara said proudly, "she taught us."
ATEEZ froze.
"What?"
Y/N grinned.
"We practice sometimes."
"We?"
"We."
Hongjoong looked toward VESPERA.
The entire group suddenly avoided eye contact.
Oh no.
The second half began.
And somehow got worse.
Because now VESPERA had confidence.
Y/N was everywhere.
Calling plays.
Directing teammates.
Intercepting passes.
Running endlessly.
At one point.
Wooyoung finally stole the ball.
The crowd cheered.
ATEEZ celebrated.
The cameras zoomed in.
Then Y/N appeared from nowhere.
Stole it back.
And disappeared again.
"What just happened?"
"No idea."
Yunho finally caught up to her.
The two sprinted side-by-side.
The crowd screaming.
The idols screaming.
The staff screaming.
Finally.
A worthy opponent.
Yunho grinned.
"You've been holding out on us."
Y/N laughed.
"You underestimated me."
"Fair."
The race continued.
Both reaching the ball simultaneously.
Yunho kicked.
Y/N blocked.
The ball flew upward.
And somehow.
SOMEHOW.
Y/N headed it perfectly toward Ara.
Who scored.
5–2.
The NOVAKID bench lost their minds.
The final whistle arrived.
ATEEZ collapsed onto the grass.
Defeated.
Exhausted.
Humiliated.
VESPERA won.
5–2.
The cameras captured everything.
The shocked faces.
The celebrations.
Wooyoung lying face-down in the field.
San questioning his life choices.
Yunho laughing because honestly this was incredible.
And at the center of it all—
Y/N.
Sweaty.
Happy.
Laughing.
Holding the match ball.
A reporter approached.
"Did you expect this result?"
Y/N smiled.
"No."
"Really?"
"No."
She pointed toward ATEEZ.
"I expected them to be harder to beat."
ATEEZ immediately started yelling.
"THAT'S SO RUDE."
"SHE'S MOCKING US."
"AFTER DESTROYING US."
Y/N doubled over laughing.
The cameras kept rolling.
Capturing the moment Yunho walked over.
Shook her hand.
And said the words everyone had finally accepted.
"You're terrifying."
Y/N beamed.
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Still taking it."
And somewhere in the editing room.
The producers already knew.
This episode was going to become legendary.
Not because ATEEZ lost.
Not because VESPERA won.
But because the entire company had spent weeks assuming Y/N would be the weak link.
Only to discover she was the best football player on the field.
You Support a Different Country During the FIFA World Cup
Bang Chan
You're a Dutch idol and Chan is fully invested in Australia making it through the tournament. Unfortunately for him, Australia gets drawn against the Netherlands in the knockout stage. The two of you agree to watch together.
By halftime Australia is losing.
Chan starts claiming the referee is biased.
You start celebrating every Dutch goal louder and louder just to annoy him.
The night ends with Chan dramatically refusing to wear the orange jersey you bought him while you insist Australia simply wasn't good enough.
Minho
You're a German choreographer working with Stray Kids.
Germany and South Korea somehow end up facing each other in a crucial match.
Minho spends the entire week acting like Korea has already won.
You spend the entire week sending him statistics proving Germany's chances are higher.
When Germany actually scores first, Minho becomes the sorest loser imaginable and starts pretending he doesn't care about football at all.
You know he's lying because he keeps checking the score every thirty seconds.
Changbin
You're a Dutch idol.
Changbin takes football way too seriously.
During a Netherlands vs South Korea match, he starts pacing around the room like he's the coach.
Every time Korea attacks, he screams.
Every time the Netherlands attacks, you scream.
The members eventually kick both of you out because your competitive yelling is making it impossible to hear the commentary.
Hyunjin
You're a German soloist.
Hyunjin claims he doesn't care much about football.
Then Germany scores against Korea.
Suddenly he's standing up.
Then Korea equalizes.
Now he's pacing.
Then Germany scores again.
By the end of the match he's more emotionally invested than anyone else in the room and absolutely refuses to admit it.
Jisung
You're a Japanese manager.
Jisung starts betting ridiculous things on the outcome of matches.
"Loser buys dinner."
"Loser does the winner's laundry."
"Loser changes their profile picture."
The problem?
Japan keeps winning.
Jisung becomes increasingly desperate and keeps trying to renegotiate the terms before every game.
Felix
You're a Dutch idol.
Australia and the Netherlands meet in the World Cup.
Felix arrives wearing a full Australia jersey.
You arrive wearing head-to-toe orange.
The members spend the entire game filming your reactions because neither of you can sit still.
When the Netherlands wins, Felix spends the rest of the evening pretending he doesn't know you.
When Australia wins, he's absolutely unbearable.
Seungmin
You're a German choreographer.
Seungmin insists he's only watching for fun.
Then Germany knocks Korea out.
He immediately starts pulling up old matches and statistics trying to explain why Korea was actually the better team.
You spend the next hour arguing football tactics with him while the other members watch like it's a tennis match.
Jeongin
You're a Dutch idol.
Jeongin has never met someone who supports the Netherlands as passionately as you do.
At first he finds it amusing.
Then he realizes you'll wake up at ridiculous hours to watch matches.
You'll paint your face orange.
You'll celebrate goals like your life depends on it.
By the final match he's somehow become equally invested—not because he cares about football, but because he desperately wants his team to beat yours and wipe that smug grin off your face.
☁️ k-pop ask game ☁️
send me a number and let's talk about biases, concerts, favorite eras, and all the little moments that made us fall in love with k-pop ♡
1. Who was your very first K-pop bias, and are they still one of your favorites?
2. What was the first K-pop song that made you think, "Okay, I'm in this for real"?
3. Which group pulled you into becoming a multifan?
4. Who is your current ult bias, and what made them take that spot?
5. Which idol surprised you by becoming your bias when you least expected it?
6. If you could attend one concert you've missed, whose would it be?
7. What's one K-pop song you wish you could hear again for the first time?
8. Which comeback era had you absolutely obsessed?
9. What is your favorite K-pop music video of all time?
10. Which idol would you trust to survive an escape room with you?
11. Which idol would you absolutely not trust to survive an escape room with you?
12. What's a K-pop opinion you had as a new fan that completely changed over time?
13. Which group has your favorite discography overall?
14. What's your favorite K-pop choreography?
15. Which idol do you think has the most infectious laugh?
16. If you could swap lives with one idol for a day, who would it be?
17. What is the funniest K-pop variety show moment you've ever seen?
18. Which idol friendship makes you the happiest?
19. What K-pop lyric or quote has stayed with you the longest?
20. If you could ask any idol one question and be guaranteed an honest answer, who would it be and what would you ask?
21. Which idol had the biggest "I get the hype now" effect on you?
22. What's a B-side you believe deserves way more attention?
23. Which idol would you choose as your roommate?
24. Which idol gives off the strongest "older sibling" energy to you?
25. Which idol gives off the strongest "chaotic best friend" energy?
26. What is one K-pop-related purchase you absolutely don't regret?
27. Which comeback teaser had you the most stressed, excited, or emotional?
28. If you could create your dream K-pop collaboration, who would be involved?
29. What's something K-pop has introduced you to outside of music (friends, hobbies, travel goals, language learning, etc.)?
30. Looking back at your K-pop journey, what moment made you realize, "Yep… this is definitely not just a phase anymore"?
31. Which idol do you think would win a season of Survivor?
32. If your biases formed a group together, what concept would they have?
33. Which K-pop song would you use to introduce someone to the genre?
34. What's the most random reason you've ever started stanning someone?
35. If you could relive one K-pop memory, what would it be?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
☁️ k-pop ask game ☁️
send me a number and let's talk about biases, concerts, favorite eras, and all the little moments that made us fall in love with k-pop ♡
1. Who was your very first K-pop bias, and are they still one of your favorites?
2. What was the first K-pop song that made you think, "Okay, I'm in this for real"?
3. Which group pulled you into becoming a multifan?
4. Who is your current ult bias, and what made them take that spot?
5. Which idol surprised you by becoming your bias when you least expected it?
6. If you could attend one concert you've missed, whose would it be?
7. What's one K-pop song you wish you could hear again for the first time?
8. Which comeback era had you absolutely obsessed?
9. What is your favorite K-pop music video of all time?
10. Which idol would you trust to survive an escape room with you?
11. Which idol would you absolutely not trust to survive an escape room with you?
12. What's a K-pop opinion you had as a new fan that completely changed over time?
13. Which group has your favorite discography overall?
14. What's your favorite K-pop choreography?
15. Which idol do you think has the most infectious laugh?
16. If you could swap lives with one idol for a day, who would it be?
17. What is the funniest K-pop variety show moment you've ever seen?
18. Which idol friendship makes you the happiest?
19. What K-pop lyric or quote has stayed with you the longest?
20. If you could ask any idol one question and be guaranteed an honest answer, who would it be and what would you ask?
21. Which idol had the biggest "I get the hype now" effect on you?
22. What's a B-side you believe deserves way more attention?
23. Which idol would you choose as your roommate?
24. Which idol gives off the strongest "older sibling" energy to you?
25. Which idol gives off the strongest "chaotic best friend" energy?
26. What is one K-pop-related purchase you absolutely don't regret?
27. Which comeback teaser had you the most stressed, excited, or emotional?
28. If you could create your dream K-pop collaboration, who would be involved?
29. What's something K-pop has introduced you to outside of music (friends, hobbies, travel goals, language learning, etc.)?
30. Looking back at your K-pop journey, what moment made you realize, "Yep… this is definitely not just a phase anymore"?
31. Which idol do you think would win a season of Survivor?
32. If your biases formed a group together, what concept would they have?
33. Which K-pop song would you use to introduce someone to the genre?
34. What's the most random reason you've ever started stanning someone?
35. If you could relive one K-pop memory, what would it be?
Schedules Clash
Part 11
The problem with falling into a routine with someone is that eventually you notice when the routine breaks.
For months now, talking to Hongjoong had become as natural as breathing.
Not scheduled.
Not expected.
Just there.
A message waiting when you woke up.
A voice memo sent from some studio at an unreasonable hour.
A photo of a notebook.
A random thought.
A joke.
A song.
Something.
Anything.
So when the messages started slowing down, you noticed immediately.
Even if you pretended you didn't.
—
It began the week ATEEZ started preparing for another major tour stretch.
Hongjoong warned you ahead of time.
Hongjoong
This month might be bad.
You were sitting in a studio lounge in Los Angeles when the message arrived.
Arden
Bad how?
A minute later:
Hongjoong
Everything at once.
That was enough explanation.
You understood.
Because your schedule looked almost identical.
Album meetings.
Recording sessions.
Press obligations.
Festival planning.
A charity performance in Chicago.
A writing retreat in Nashville.
Everything stacked on top of everything else.
Arden
We'll survive.
Three dots appeared.
Hongjoong
Hopefully.
—
At first, nothing changed.
Then everything did.
A missed call.
A delayed reply.
A conversation that ended halfway through because one of you got pulled into work.
Little things.
Manageable things.
Until suddenly they weren't little anymore.
—
You were in Nashville working on new material when you realized you hadn't actually spoken to Hongjoong in nearly four days.
Texted?
Yes.
Spoken?
No.
Four days.
Which shouldn't have mattered.
But somehow it did.
You sat on the porch of the writing cabin overlooking a lake, guitar balanced across your lap.
Your phone rested beside you.
Silent.
The screen lighting up only with work emails.
No messages.
No calls.
Nothing.
You hated how much you noticed.
—
That evening, your phone finally buzzed.
You grabbed it immediately.
Then immediately hated yourself for grabbing it immediately.
Hongjoong
Sorry.
You stared.
Arden
For?
The reply took ten minutes.
Which somehow made it worse.
Hongjoong
Everything.
Your chest tightened slightly.
You looked out across the dark water.
Then typed.
Arden
That's vague.
Three dots.
Hongjoong
I've slept maybe six hours in three days.
Your frustration vanished instantly.
Because of course it had.
Because that was the problem.
You understood him too well.
Arden
Hongjoong.
Hongjoong
I know.
Arden
No. I don't think you do.
You can't keep doing that.
Five minutes passed.
Hongjoong
I'm trying.
And somehow that was worse than an excuse.
Because it was honest.
—
The first real argument happened two days later.
Not explosive.
Not dramatic.
Just painful.
Which was somehow worse.
You had finally managed to get a video call scheduled.
A miracle considering both your calendars.
You were sitting cross-legged on a hotel bed in Chicago.
Hongjoong was in a rehearsal room somewhere in Seoul.
Both exhausted.
Both running on caffeine and stubbornness.
"You look terrible," you told him.
His eyes narrowed.
"You too."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Normally, that would've made you laugh.
Tonight it didn't.
The silence lingered.
Awkward.
Heavy.
Hongjoong noticed first.
"What's wrong?"
You looked away.
"Nothing."
"Arden."
You hated when he used that tone.
The one that saw through everything.
"You've been avoiding me."
His expression shifted immediately.
Not angry.
Hurt.
"I have not."
"You disappeared for four days."
"I told you I was busy."
"I know."
The words came out sharper than intended.
Hongjoong sat back slightly.
You immediately regretted it.
But not enough to take it back.
Because the truth was—
You were tired too.
Tired of airports.
Tired of interviews.
Tired of pretending distance wasn't hard.
Tired of missing someone you technically weren't even dating.
"You think I don't notice?" he asked quietly.
The anger drained out of you immediately.
Because he sounded exhausted.
Not defensive.
Exhausted.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
The silence returned.
Neither of you speaking.
Neither of you backing down.
Eventually Hongjoong rubbed a hand over his face.
When he looked back at the screen, he seemed older somehow.
More tired.
"I'm trying to be everything at once."
The words hit harder than they should have.
Leader.
Producer.
Performer.
Friend.
Maybe something more.
Always carrying something.
Always responsible for someone.
You knew that.
You knew it better than anyone.
Which made this conversation feel awful.
Because suddenly neither of you was wrong.
And neither of you was right.
—
You spoke again almost simultaneously.
"Sorry."
Both of you stopped.
Then laughed weakly.
The tension cracked slightly.
Not gone.
Just less sharp.
Hongjoong shook his head.
"I hate this."
"Me too."
A pause.
"I don't want every conversation to become about schedules."
Neither did you.
Because schedules weren't the actual issue.
The issue was simpler.
And scarier.
You missed him.
That's all.
You just missed him.
—
The realization settled heavily between you.
Unspoken.
Obvious.
Neither of you acknowledging it directly.
Hongjoong looked away from the camera briefly.
Then back.
"Come here."
You blinked.
"What?"
He pointed toward the screen.
"Closer."
Suspiciously, you leaned closer.
"So I can what? See your pores?"
"Arden."
You laughed despite yourself and moved closer.
The tension eased a little more.
Hongjoong smiled faintly.
"There."
"You're ridiculous."
"Maybe."
For the first time all evening, he looked relaxed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Enough to remind you why this mattered.
Why he mattered.
—
The call lasted another hour.
No arguing.
No schedule talk.
Just existing together.
Like before.
Like yourselves.
Eventually, a manager appeared in the background behind him.
Another obligation.
Another rehearsal.
Another thing demanding his attention.
Reality returning.
Hongjoong sighed.
You smiled sadly.
"Go."
"I know."
Neither of you moved.
Again.
Some habits never changed.
Finally he looked at you.
Softly.
Carefully.
"Don't disappear."
Your chest tightened.
"You either."
A pause.
"I'll call when I can."
Not a promise.
Not a guarantee.
Just the truth.
You appreciated that more.
"Okay."
His smile returned.
Small.
Tired.
Real.
Then the screen went dark.
And for the first time, both of you understood something neither had wanted to admit before:
Liking each other wasn't the difficult part.
Finding space for it was.
Previous B.Y.B.T.M. Next
Hearts Growing Bigger
When your child gets the hiccups and you softly tell them it’s just their heart growing to make room for more love.
Bangchan
Chan was in the middle of working.
Laptop open. Headphones hanging around his neck. Half-written lyrics glowing across the screen while soft rain tapped against the apartment windows.
And then—
“Hic!”
A tiny, offended sound came from the couch.
Chan glanced over immediately.
Your daughter sat bundled in her dinosaur blanket, blinking like she’d personally been betrayed by her own body.
“Hic!”
Her little hands slapped over her mouth dramatically.
Chan smiled. “You okay, princess?”
She frowned. “Daddy, make it stop.”
He stood instantly, already reaching for water before you gently stopped him with a touch to his wrist.
“I got it.”
Chan watched as you crouched in front of her, brushing tiny curls from her face.
“Hiccups just mean your heart’s growing bigger,” you told her softly. “So it can hold more love.”
Your daughter froze.
Chan froze.
“Huh?” she whispered.
You nodded seriously. “Every hiccup means more room for all the people you love.”
“Hic!”
Her eyes widened. “It’s growing again?”
“Mhm.”
Chan stared at you like you’d just rewritten the laws of the universe.
His expression softened so fast it physically hurt.
Your daughter suddenly grinned.
“That means I REALLY love mommy and daddy.”
Chan had to look away for a second.
Because something in his chest clenched painfully warm.
You always did this—turned ordinary little moments into something magical.
Later that night, after your daughter finally fell asleep hiccup-free against his shoulder, Chan quietly asked from the kitchen doorway,
“Where do you even come up with stuff like that?”
You shrugged. “Kids deserve soft explanations for things.”
Chan walked over slowly, gaze unbearably fond.
“No,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I think they deserve you.”
And honestly?
He’d probably think about the hiccup thing for the next ten years.
Minho
Minho was absolutely not prepared for this conversation.
One second he was helping your son build a Lego tower.
The next—
“Hic!”
A tiny hiccup interrupted the intense architectural process.
Your son frowned immediately.
“Hic!”
Minho blinked at him. “Did your soul leave your body?”
“Minho.”
“What? That’s what it looks like.”
Your son gasped dramatically at the next hiccup, looking personally attacked.
You walked in carrying laundry, smiling instantly at the scene.
“Aww, baby got hiccups?”
“Hic!”
“Why?” your son asked miserably.
You sat beside him, smoothing his hair down.
“It means your heart’s getting bigger,” you explained. “Making more room for love.”
Silence.
Minho slowly looked up from the Lego piece in his hand.
“…What?”
Your son’s eyes turned round. “Really?”
“Mhm.”
“Hic!”
Minho watched your son suddenly sit there looking deeply emotional over hiccups.
And somehow…
Minho got emotional too.
He’d heard a million old wives’ tales growing up.
But that one?
That one was beautiful.
Your son looked down at his chest thoughtfully.
“My heart must be HUGE then.”
Minho snorted softly. “Your ego definitely is.”
“Minho.”
“Sorry.”
But he was smiling.
Actually smiling.
The soft kind he only really wore at home.
That night while brushing teeth side by side, your son hiccuped once more and proudly announced,
“More love.”
Minho had to grip the sink because he nearly cried over toothpaste and hiccups.
And later, while lying in bed beside you, he muttered quietly into the dark,
“You make everything gentler.”
You blinked. “What?”
“The way you explain things to him.” His voice was softer than usual. “I like it.”
Coming from Minho?
That was basically a full love confession.
Changbin
“Hic!”
Changbin immediately panicked.
“BABY ARE YOU OKAY?”
Your daughter blinked at him from her high chair.
“Hic!”
“Oh no.” He looked at you urgently. “Should we call someone?”
You stared at him.
“For hiccups?”
“You never know!”
Your daughter looked seconds away from tears because her father looked more distressed than she did.
You stepped in quickly, rubbing her tiny back.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Hiccups just mean your heart’s growing bigger.”
Changbin paused mid-panic.
“…What?”
“So it can hold more love.”
Your daughter’s watery eyes widened.
“For appa too?”
“Especially for appa.”
Changbin physically melted.
Like actually.
One hand slapped over his chest dramatically.
“Oh my god.”
Your daughter hiccuped again and Changbin immediately pointed at her proudly.
“SEE? SHE LOVES ME MORE NOW.”
You laughed. “That’s not exactly—”
“NO THIS IS SCIENCE.”
Your daughter giggled so hard she forgot to be upset.
And Changbin?
Done for.
Absolutely gone.
The rest of the evening he kept randomly staring at you with this dazed expression.
Finally you asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He shook his head slowly.
“You’re seriously the warmest person alive.”
Then dramatically pulled your daughter into his chest.
“Our hearts are growing together.”
“Binnie,” you sighed.
“Hic!”
He gasped. “SHE AGREES.”
Hyunjin
Hyunjin reacted like you’d recited poetry.
Because honestly?
To him, you had.
Your daughter sat in his lap during movie night when the hiccups started.
Tiny little hiccups every few seconds.
She pouted immediately, clutching his hoodie.
“Daddy…”
Hyunjin rubbed her back carefully. “Does it hurt, angel?”
“Hic!”
Before he could start googling remedies, you leaned over from beside them.
“It just means your heart’s growing.”
Your daughter blinked.
Hyunjin blinked.
“To make room for more love,” you added gently.
The room went quiet.
Your daughter placed a tiny hand over her chest.
Hyunjin looked genuinely stunned.
Like something profound had just been revealed to him.
“That…” he whispered slowly. “Is the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
You laughed softly. “It’s just a little thing.”
“No.” He looked at you with complete sincerity. “No, it isn’t.”
Your daughter hiccuped again.
Hyunjin kissed the top of her head immediately.
“So much love in such a tiny body…”
“Hyunjin, don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.”
He absolutely was.
Later he ended up painting while the two of you slept.
And when you woke up the next morning?
There was a sketchbook page on the table.
A drawing of your daughter holding her chest with tiny hearts blooming around her.
Written underneath in messy handwriting:
Your heart will always have room for love.
You nearly cried before breakfast.
Jisung
Jisung thought your son was dying.
“Hic!”
He whipped around from the kitchen so fast he nearly dropped the ramen bowl.
“Oh no.”
“Hic!”
“Oh NO.”
Your son looked startled. “Dad?”
Jisung crouched immediately. “Buddy, stay with me.”
You walked in just in time to see your husband acting like a medic in a war movie.
“What are you doing?”
“He has hiccups!”
“…Yes.”
“Hic!”
Jisung pointed dramatically. “See?!”
You sighed fondly before sitting beside your son.
“Hiccups just mean your heart’s growing bigger.”
Jisung went silent.
Your son blinked. “Why?”
“So it can hold more love.”
The room became weirdly emotional instantly.
Jisung’s face softened so fast.
“That’s…” He pressed a hand to his chest. “That’s actually insane.”
Your son hiccuped again and immediately smiled.
“My heart loves dad a lot then.”
Jisung made a wounded sound.
“Okay wow.”
You laughed as he collapsed sideways onto the couch dramatically.
“I can’t handle this family.”
Five minutes later your son hiccuped again and Jisung gasped loudly.
“MORE LOVE ACQUIRED.”
Your son burst into giggles.
And honestly?
Jisung repeated your explanation to literally everyone for weeks.
Staff.
Members.
Managers.
Random friends.
“Hiccups are your heart growing,” he’d say emotionally. “ISN’T THAT BEAUTIFUL?”
Felix
Felix nearly teared up immediately.
Your daughter sat on the kitchen counter hiccuping softly while Felix held a juice box for her with deep concern.
“Hic!”
“Oh bub…”
You walked over, rubbing her little shoulders.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Your heart’s just growing.”
Felix looked up instantly.
“Hm?”
“So it can make more room for love.”
Silence.
Your daughter smiled shyly.
Felix looked completely devastated in the softest way possible.
His eyes literally turned glossy.
“That’s…” He swallowed hard. “That’s so beautiful.”
You laughed quietly. “Lix, don’t cry over hiccups.”
“I’m emotional!”
Your daughter hiccuped again and Felix immediately kissed her forehead.
“You’ve got the biggest heart already, angel.”
“No,” she informed him seriously. “It’s getting BIGGER.”
Felix clutched his chest.
“Oh my god.”
The rest of the night he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
You’d find him randomly staring at your daughter with the softest expression imaginable.
Finally you nudged him. “You okay?”
He smiled slowly.
“I just think… if someone told little kids things like that more often, the world would be gentler.”
And that sentence alone nearly made you emotional.
Seungmin
Seungmin initially thought you were making things up.
Your son hiccuped halfway through dinner and frowned instantly.
“Hic!”
Seungmin handed him water automatically.
Then you casually said,
“It just means your heart’s growing.”
Seungmin looked over.
“…Excuse me?”
“To make more room for love.”
Your son stared at you in awe.
Seungmin stared at you like he was trying to figure out if you’d secretly become a children’s book author.
“Hic!”
Your son smiled immediately this time.
“My heart’s growing for mom and dad?”
You nodded.
And Seungmin—
Seungmin actually got quiet.
Which was rare.
Because he could joke through almost anything.
But the way your son looked suddenly comforted instead of scared?
That hit him hard.
“That’s…” He cleared his throat. “Actually really nice.”
You grinned knowingly. “You doubted me.”
“I still think you invented it.”
“I absolutely did.”
He barked out a laugh.
“I knew it.”
But later that evening, he overheard your son telling his stuffed bear,
“Don’t worry. Hiccups mean more love.”
And suddenly Seungmin understood exactly why you said things like that.
Because children remembered softness.
And maybe adults needed it too.
Jeongin
Jeongin was fascinated immediately.
Your son hiccuped twice while sitting beside him during bedtime story hour.
“Hic!”
Jeongin looked down. “Tiny man, what was that?”
“Hic!”
Your son looked offended.
You smiled from the doorway.
“His heart’s growing.”
Jeongin blinked slowly.
“…What?”
“So it can hold more love.”
Complete silence.
Your son touched his chest softly.
Jeongin looked genuinely mesmerized.
“That is…” He shook his head in disbelief. “Wait, that’s actually adorable.”
Your son hiccuped again.
Jeongin immediately smiled.
“Wow, your heart must be working overtime.”
Your son giggled.
And Jeongin?
He couldn’t stop smiling after that.
Even during bedtime story interruptions.
Even while getting kicked accidentally under the blanket.
Even when your son hiccuped six more times.
Because every single time—
Your son would whisper proudly,
“More love.”
And honestly?
Jeongin thought that might’ve been the sweetest thing he’d ever heard in his life.
Hearts Growing Bigger
When your child gets the hiccups and you softly tell them it’s just their heart growing to make room for more love.
Hongjoong
Hongjoong had been in the middle of helping your son color a dragon onto scrap lyric paper when the tiny hic! interrupted the room.
Then another.
Your son blinked in confusion, little hands pressing against his chest. “Appa… why my body jump?”
Hongjoong immediately switched into problem-solving mode, already reaching for water. “Maybe drink slowly—”
But you gently rubbed your son’s back first.
“It’s okay, baby,” you whispered. “That just means your heart is growing bigger so it can hold more love.”
Silence.
Hongjoong froze with the cup halfway in the air.
Your son gasped dramatically. “REALLY?”
“Mhm,” you nodded seriously. “You love so many people now your heart needs more room.”
The little boy accepted this instantly, sitting there proudly hiccuping like he’d just evolved into a higher life form.
Meanwhile Hongjoong looked completely wrecked.
“…Why is that the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard?”
You laughed softly, but he was staring at you with this dazed expression, eyes warm and shiny under the lamp light.
“No because—” he pointed weakly, “you just casually say things that permanently alter my brain chemistry.”
Your son hiccuped again.
Hongjoong clutched his chest dramatically. “Mine’s growing too now.”
Seonghwa
Your daughter hated hiccups.
Every single one offended her personally.
“Make it stop,” she whined tearfully from Seonghwa’s lap after her fourth hiccup.
Seonghwa was already panicking on her behalf. “Baby, breathe slowly—do you want water? Juice? Should Appa call someone?”
You crouched beside them, brushing her hair away from her cheeks.
“Honey,” you murmured, “hiccups happen when your heart grows bigger.”
She sniffled. “Why?”
“So more love can fit inside.”
Seonghwa went utterly still.
Your daughter blinked at you with watery eyes. “Really?”
“Mhm. And your heart grows fast because you love people so much.”
The next hiccup came.
Instead of crying, she placed both hands over her chest proudly.
Seonghwa made the softest broken noise beside you.
You looked over to find him staring at both of you like he’d just witnessed divine intervention.
“…You’re unreal,” he whispered.
“What?”
“The way you talk to her.” His eyes were impossibly soft. “You make everything gentle.”
Then he hugged both of you at once, holding your daughter close while quietly muttering:
“My girls are gonna kill me one day.”
Yunho
Yunho’s son treated hiccups like a comedy routine.
Every hic! sent him into louder giggles until he practically fell over.
Yunho was laughing too hard to help.
“Buddy, you sound like a squeaky toy!”
“HIC—APPA!”
You shook your head fondly before pulling your son into your lap.
“You know why hiccups happen?”
He immediately gasped. “Why?”
“Your heart is growing bigger so you can hold more love.”
The boy’s entire expression transformed into awe.
Yunho’s laughter stopped instantly.
“…Wait.”
Your son touched his chest carefully. “Because I love Appa?”
“And me,” you smiled.
“And grandma?”
“Mhm.”
“And dinosaurs?”
“Especially dinosaurs.”
Yunho looked genuinely emotional now, lips parted slightly as he stared at you.
“That’s…” He blinked. “That’s actually beautiful.”
You shrugged sheepishly. “My mom used to say it.”
Yunho looked at his son, then back at you with the most lovesick expression imaginable.
“I’m never recovering from hearing you say that.”
Then he pulled out his phone immediately.
“I need to write that down before I forget.”
Yeosang
Yeosang’s son got hiccups in the middle of bedtime stories.
“Hic!”
The little boy frowned deeply, offended by the interruption.
“Hic!”
Yeosang tried not to laugh while rubbing his back.
But before he could say anything, you kissed your son’s forehead softly.
“Looks like your heart’s getting bigger.”
Both father and son looked at you.
“So more love can fit inside,” you explained quietly.
The room went completely silent.
Your son accepted it immediately. “Oh.”
Then he laid back down peacefully like the mystery had been solved.
Yeosang, however, looked absolutely stunned.
He blinked at you once.
Twice.
“…You just made hiccups sound magical.”
You smiled. “Did I?”
“Yes.” His voice came out softer than intended. “How do you even think of things like that?”
You only shrugged while fixing the blanket around your son.
Yeosang watched you for a long moment after that.
Then quietly:
“Our kids are lucky you’re their mom.”
And judging by how pink his ears got afterward, he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
San
San was dramatically devastated over your daughter’s hiccups.
“My baby is suffering,” he mourned while holding her against his chest.
Your daughter giggled between hiccups while you rolled your eyes affectionately.
“She’s fine.”
“Hic!”
San gasped like he’d been shot.
That’s when you leaned over and smoothed your daughter’s tiny curls down.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Your heart’s just growing bigger so more love can fit.”
San stopped breathing.
Your daughter blinked. “Really?”
“Mhm. That’s why kind people get hiccups.”
“Oh.” She looked very pleased with herself.
Meanwhile San looked seconds away from tears.
“You can’t just SAY things like that.”
You laughed. “Why not?”
“Because now I’m emotional!”
He buried his face into your shoulder dramatically while muttering:
“That’s the sweetest parenting sentence I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Then your daughter hiccuped again and proudly announced:
“I HAVE BIG LOVE.”
San actually started crying laughing.
Mingi
Mingi had been trying every anti-hiccup trick known to mankind.
“Hold your breath.”
“Hic!”
“No wait—drink upside down.”
“Hic!”
“Okay maybe that only works in cartoons—”
You were laughing so hard you could barely breathe.
Finally you took your daughter into your arms and rubbed little circles onto her back.
“It’s okay, princess. Your heart’s just getting bigger.”
She blinked up at you. “Why?”
“To hold more love.”
Mingi went dead silent.
Your daughter smiled instantly. “For Appa?”
“And for everyone you love.”
Another hiccup.
She looked delighted now.
Mingi stared at you with his mouth slightly open.
“…I think I just fell in love with you again.”
You snorted. “Again?”
“Yeah because WHAT WAS THAT?”
He pointed at you dramatically.
“That was like… movie dialogue. Fairy tale mom dialogue.”
Then he hugged both you and your daughter so tightly she squeaked out a hiccup-laugh combination.
Mingi nearly combusted from cuteness.
Wooyoung
Wooyoung’s daughter was being incredibly dramatic about her hiccups.
“Appa I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying.”
“HIC—I’m tiny dying.”
You burst into laughter while Wooyoung clutched his chest from secondhand dramatics.
Then you crouched in front of her.
“Baby, hiccups just mean your heart’s growing bigger.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“So it can hold more love.”
Wooyoung’s smile disappeared instantly.
Not because he disliked it.
Because he was completely stunned.
Your daughter sat there thoughtfully before nodding seriously.
“That make sense.”
“See?” you smiled.
Another hiccup interrupted her.
Wooyoung suddenly turned away, covering his face.
You narrowed your eyes. “Are you crying?”
“No.”
“You literally are.”
“I’m NOT.” His voice cracked horribly. “That was just really cute!”
He looked at you again with glistening eyes.
“How do you always know exactly what to say to her?”
Then quieter:
“I wanna remember every little thing you say forever.”
Jongho
Jongho’s son got hiccups while sitting on the kitchen counter helping bake cookies.
“Hic!”
The boy looked confused.
Jongho handed him water immediately. “Drink slowly.”
But you gently touched your son’s nose first.
“Your heart’s growing.”
The little boy blinked. “It is?”
“Mhm. It needs more room for all the people you love.”
Jongho stared at you so intensely you nearly laughed.
His son placed a hand over his chest carefully.
“I love lots.”
“I know,” you whispered.
The next hiccup came softer.
Jongho leaned against the counter quietly watching the two of you.
Then after a long pause:
“…You’d make every scary thing feel safe for him, wouldn’t you?”
The tenderness in his voice nearly melted you.
You reached for his hand.
But Jongho only shook his head in disbelief, smiling softly to himself.
“That explanation was ridiculously beautiful.” He squeezed your fingers gently. “I don’t think I’ll ever hear hiccups normally again.”
First Visit
Part 10
You don’t talk about it much beforehand.
Not because it isn’t important.
Because if you did, it would start feeling too real too fast.
But when the message comes through from Hongjoong—simple, direct, uncharacteristically unfiltered—you stop pretending this is still just messages and late-night calls.
Hongjoong
I have 36 hours in New York next week.
You stare at the notification for a full minute.
Then reply.
Arden
That’s not a lot of hours..
Hongjoong
It’s enough.
That’s when it shifts.
Not dramatically.
Not with big declarations or emotional speeches.
Just quietly.
Like a door opening that neither of you mentions out loud.
—
When he arrives, it’s early evening in Manhattan.
Grey sky. Cold wind. The kind of weather that makes the city feel sharper around the edges.
You’re standing outside your studio building when the black car pulls up.
You don’t move immediately.
Because somehow your brain still hasn’t fully processed it.
This is different from video calls.
Different from voice notes.
Different from everything so far.
This is physical space.
Real distance collapsed into presence.
The door opens.
He steps out.
And for a second, neither of you says anything.
Hongjoong looks… tired.
But not just tired.
Travel tired.
Life tired.
And still, when he sees you, something in his expression shifts immediately.
Like he’s been holding tension for hours and forgot until this exact second.
“Hi,” he says.
Just that.
You exhale softly.
“Hi.”
A beat passes.
Then he smiles.
Smaller than you expected.
More real than you expected.
“I remember you taller in person,” you say automatically.
He blinks.
Then laughs.
“Is this your first impression?”
“It’s important data collection.”
“That’s not how people work.”
“That’s exactly how people work.”
He shakes his head, still smiling.
You notice then—really notice—that he’s carrying a small bag over one shoulder. No entourage in sight right now. No stage presence armor. Just him.
And it makes your chest feel weirdly tight.
“You made it,” you say softly.
“I said I would.”
“People say things.”
“I meant it.”
That lands quietly between you.
Then you step aside.
“Come on.”
—
Your studio feels different with him inside it.
Not because anything has changed.
Because he has.
He stands near your desk first, looking around slowly. Not touching anything. Just observing.
Not like a celebrity.
Like a producer.
Like someone mentally cataloguing sound, space, and possibility.
“This is very you,” he says finally.
You raise a brow.
“That sounds like an insult.”
“It’s not.”
You lean against the desk.
“I don’t know what that means.”
He glances at you briefly.
“Organized chaos.”
You snort.
“I’ll take it.”
Then he notices the notebook on your desk.
Doesn’t pick it up.
Just looks at it.
“That’s the song?” he asks.
You hesitate.
Then nod.
“Yes.”
He doesn’t push further.
Instead, he pulls out a chair.
Sits.
Like he belongs there.
Which is unsettling in a way you don’t know how to name yet.
“You’ve been working on it alone?” he asks.
“Mostly.”
“Play it.”
Your stomach tightens slightly.
“This is not a formal studio session.”
“I know.”
“You’re not judging it.”
“I know.”
“You’re very calm about this.”
“I trust you,” he says simply.
That stops you.
Completely.
Because it’s not said like pressure.
Not like expectation.
Like fact.
You swallow lightly.
Then pick up your guitar.
—
The room fills with your voice first.
Then melody.
Then the song you wrote across time zones and late-night calls and everything you refused to name properly.
He doesn’t interrupt.
Doesn’t move.
Doesn’t react loudly.
Just listens.
Properly listens.
And you realize halfway through that this might be the first time someone has heard this song exactly as you meant it.
Not as content.
Not as product.
As intention.
When you finish, the silence after feels heavier than before.
You set the guitar down slowly.
“…So?” you ask.
He exhales softly.
“It hurts,” he says.
You blink.
“That’s not—”
“That’s good,” he adds quickly.
He looks at you then.
Really looks at you.
“It hurts in the right places.”
Your throat tightens slightly.
“That’s a strange compliment.”
“It’s the only kind that matters.”
You laugh quietly despite yourself.
“Producers are weird.”
“We are efficient,” he corrects.
You shake your head.
Then sit down across from him.
“You flew across the world for this,” you say.
“I flew across the world for you,” he replies casually.
You freeze slightly.
He notices immediately.
And softens.
“I mean—” he starts.
But you cut him off gently.
“I know what you mean.”
Neither of you corrects it further.
Because there’s nothing to correct yet.
Just truth sitting between you.
Unlabeled.
Unfinished.
Real.
—
Later, you order takeout and eat sitting on the floor of your studio because neither of you felt like moving anywhere else.
You talk about music.
About tours.
About exhaustion.
About how strange it is to feel understood across continents.
At some point, he leans back against the couch, eyes half-lidded from travel fatigue.
“You should sleep,” you say quietly.
“So should you.”
“I live here.”
“You still don’t sleep.”
You roll your eyes.
“I resent your accuracy.”
He smiles faintly.
Then looks at you.
Longer than usual.
“You know,” he says slowly, “this is not what I expected.”
“What, New York?”
“You.”
That makes you pause.
“…That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not.”
A beat.
Then softer:
“It’s better.”
Your breath catches slightly.
You look down at your hands.
“Careful,” you murmur.
“About what?”
“Statements like that.”
A quiet laugh.
“I’ll try.”
Silence settles again.
Comfortable now.
Familiar in a way that should be impossible given how little time has actually passed.
Eventually, he checks his phone.
Time slipping away.
“I have to go soon,” he says.
Your stomach dips slightly.
“Already?”
“36 hours was generous,” he reminds you.
You nod slowly.
“Right.”
Neither of you moves immediately.
Then he stands.
You follow.
At the door, he pauses.
Looks at you.
Not rushed.
Not distracted.
Just present.
“Arden.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t overthink it,” he says softly.
You huff a quiet laugh.
“That’s literally impossible.”
“I know.”
“But try anyway.”
You smile slightly.
“Okay.”
He nods once.
Then leaves.
And when the door closes behind him, the studio feels quieter again.
But not empty.
Not anymore.
Because something has officially crossed over now.
And neither of you is pretending otherwise.
Previous B.Y.B.T.M. Next
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Campfire Catastrophes
The group chat had started with one message.
Bang Chan: camping trip???
That was it. No context. No planning. No logic behind it.
And somehow, forty-five minutes later, eight grown men and you were standing in the parking lot of a sporting goods store staring at camping equipment like it had personally insulted you.
“You know,” you said slowly, eyeing the towering wall of survival gear, “normal people research things before deciding to disappear into the woods.”
“We did research,” Chan argued.
“You watched one twenty-minute YouTube video called Top Ten Camping Hacks.”
Felix gasped. “It had five million views.”
“That somehow makes it worse.”
Jisung pushed a shopping cart dramatically toward the automatic doors. “Adventure awaits.”
“Disaster awaits,” you corrected.
“Same thing,” Hyunjin said.
And honestly, that should’ve been your warning to turn around immediately.
But unfortunately, you loved them.
Which was why you were now watching Minho aggressively poke a display tent with visible distrust.
“This thing looks flimsy.”
“It’s a tent,” Seungmin said. “What did you expect? Reinforced concrete?”
Minho narrowed his eyes. “I expect protection from bears.”
“There are no bears here,” Jeongin said.
“How do you know?”
“Because we’re camping two hours outside Seoul, not in the Canadian wilderness.”
Changbin had already wandered off and returned carrying enough instant ramen to feed a small nation.
“I have secured dinner.”
“You secured sodium poisoning,” Seungmin replied.
Meanwhile, Felix and Jisung were arguing over marshmallows.
“Mini marshmallows are superior,” Felix insisted.
“No, giant marshmallows are funnier.”
“For what reason?”
Jisung held one up thoughtfully. “Weaponry.”
You rubbed your face tiredly.
“This trip hasn’t even started and I already want to go home.”
Chan slung an arm around your shoulders with infuriating optimism. “That’s the spirit.”
—
Three hours later, you arrived at the campsite.
Well.
“Campsite” was generous.
It was more like a slightly flatter section of forest with a bathroom building somewhere in the distance and a suspicious amount of bugs.
The second everyone stepped out of the vans, chaos immediately began.
“Why is the ground uneven?” Hyunjin complained.
“It’s nature,” Seungmin said.
“Nobody told nature to do this.”
Changbin dramatically slapped at a mosquito. “I’m being hunted.”
“You’ve been outside for six seconds,” you said.
“I’m delicious to insects.”
Minho grabbed two bags and looked around unimpressed. “Which one of you actually knows how to set up a tent?”
Silence.
Then all seven heads slowly turned toward Chan.
Chan blinked. “Why are you looking at me?”
“You’re the leader,” Hyunjin said.
“That means absolutely nothing in the wilderness.”
“You watched the video,” Jisung added.
“I watched part of the video.”
You stared at him.
“…How much of the video?”
Chan avoided eye contact.
Felix looked horrified. “You didn’t finish it?”
“I got distracted!”
“With what?”
“…Another camping video.”
Seungmin let out a long sigh that sounded deeply spiritual.
“This is how we die.”
—
Setting up the tents became a group exercise in mutual suffering.
Nobody understood the instructions.
Nobody agreed on anything.
And somehow every pole looked identical but fit nowhere.
“I think this part bends,” Felix said.
“It’s not supposed to bend like that,” you replied.
Too late.
The pole snapped loudly in half.
Everyone froze.
Felix stared at it in betrayal. “Oh.”
Jisung collapsed onto the grass laughing so hard he nearly rolled downhill.
“You broke the house!”
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO.”
Changbin pointed accusingly. “Now wolves will get us.”
“There are STILL no wolves,” Jeongin said.
“You don’t know that.”
“I absolutely do.”
Meanwhile, Chan and Hyunjin were trying to hammer stakes into the ground with a rock because nobody had packed a mallet.
“This feels incorrect,” Hyunjin muttered.
“It’s innovative,” Chan argued.
“It’s stupid.”
“That too.”
You turned just in time to see Minho silently take the tent instructions from Jisung, glance at them once, and immediately start fixing everyone’s mistakes with the expression of a deeply disappointed father.
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “He understands camping.”
Seungmin looked equally stunned. “That’s terrifying.”
“I had outdoor training in middle school,” Minho said without looking up.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”
“Watching all of you struggle was entertaining.”
“That’s actually evil.”
“Thank you.”
After another hour of suffering, the tents finally stood.
Crookedly.
Questionably.
But they stood.
Jisung looked at the nearest tent proudly. “We built shelter with our own hands.”
“The poles are visibly leaning,” you pointed out.
“It has character.”
“It has structural instability.”
Felix carefully pushed one side.
The entire tent folded in on itself instantly.
A moment of silence.
Then Jeongin quietly said, “I think the tent died.”
—
Dinner preparations somehow went even worse.
“Who packed the cooking equipment?” Chan asked.
Another silence.
Slowly, everyone looked at everyone else.
“No one packed the cooking equipment,” Seungmin realized.
Changbin looked devastated. “Then how do we make ramen?”
Jisung held up disposable chopsticks. “Violence?”
You sat on a cooler and laughed into your hands because at this point it was either laugh or cry.
“How are you all functioning adults?”
“We have managers,” Hyunjin answered immediately.
“That explains so much.”
Eventually, after digging through every bag, Felix triumphantly found a portable burner shoved beneath six packs of snacks.
“We’re saved!”
“Do we have gas for it?” Seungmin asked.
Felix paused.
“…Potentially.”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“Nope.”
Chan checked the canister and nearly collapsed with relief. “It’s full.”
Everyone cheered like he’d personally hunted dinner himself.
The ramen process still became a disaster.
Jisung added too much water.
Changbin added too much seasoning.
Hyunjin somehow dropped an entire packet of noodles into the dirt.
“It’s seasoned now,” he said weakly.
“You cannot eat forest noodles,” you told him.
“Watch me.”
Minho physically took the pot away before Hyunjin could commit to the bit.
Eventually, though, everyone ended up sitting around the fire with steaming cups of ramen and slightly burned sausages.
And honestly?
It felt kind of perfect.
The forest had gone dark around you, filled with the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves. The fire crackled softly, painting warm orange light across tired faces.
For once, nobody was rushing anywhere.
No schedules.
No cameras.
No rehearsals.
Just all of you existing together.
Felix leaned against your shoulder with a happy sigh. “This is nice.”
“You said that three mosquito bites ago.”
“I contain multitudes.”
Changbin was still eating like he hadn’t seen food in weeks.
Jisung kept throwing tiny sticks into the fire purely for dramatic effect.
Jeongin sat bundled in two hoodies despite insisting earlier he “wasn’t cold.”
And Chan looked weirdly emotional staring at everyone.
You noticed immediately.
“You’re having leader feelings again, aren’t you?”
He looked offended. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re looking at us like we’re a found family montage.”
“…Maybe a little.”
Seungmin snorted. “He’s one acoustic guitar away from crying.”
“I hate all of you.”
“You love us,” Felix corrected gently.
Chan sighed.
“…Unfortunately.”
—
The peace lasted approximately twelve minutes.
Then Jisung screamed.
Everyone jumped violently.
“What?!” you shouted.
“There’s something in the trees!”
Changbin nearly dropped his ramen. “A BEAR?”
“THERE ARE NO BEARS!” Jeongin yelled automatically.
The bushes rustled again.
Felix clung to your arm.
Hyunjin grabbed Chan like a human shield.
Chan looked deeply betrayed. “Why am I in front?”
“Leadership.”
The rustling got louder.
Everyone collectively stopped breathing.
A tiny cat wandered out of the bushes.
Silence.
The cat stared at the nine of you with complete indifference.
Jisung looked emotional. “Forest spirit.”
“It’s literally just a cat,” Seungmin said.
Felix was already crouching down making baby voices.
“Hi sweetheart! Hi tiny angel!”
The cat ignored him entirely and walked straight toward Minho.
Of course it did.
Minho looked smug immediately. “It recognizes kindness.”
“It recognizes cat food residue,” Hyunjin said.
Within minutes the cat had fully adopted your campsite.
It sat beside Minho near the fire while everyone argued over names.
“We should call it Ramen,” Changbin suggested.
“That’s horrible,” Seungmin said.
“What about Campfire?”
“That’s worse.”
“Tiny Christopher,” Jisung offered.
Chan looked alarmed. “Absolutely not.”
You ended up calling the cat Marshmallow because Felix insisted it was “soft and emotionally round.”
Nobody knew what that meant.
But somehow it stuck.
—
Sleeping arrangements became another war.
“I’m not sharing with Jisung,” Seungmin declared immediately.
Jisung gasped dramatically. “You wound me.”
“You kick people in your sleep.”
“I move artistically.”
“You elbowed me off a bed once.”
“Growth requires sacrifice.”
The final arrangement somehow ended with you, Felix, and Jeongin sharing one tent while Chan got trapped mediating arguments in another.
From outside, you could still hear chaos.
“STOP STEALING THE BLANKET.”
“I’M COLD.”
“THAT’S NOT MY PROBLEM.”
“WHY ARE YOUR FEET SO FREEZING?”
“You’re all being dramatic,” Minho’s voice said calmly.
“You threatened Jisung with a flashlight five minutes ago!”
“He deserved it.”
You snorted into your sleeping bag.
Jeongin looked exhausted already. “We should’ve booked a hotel.”
Felix whispered, “But then we wouldn’t have character development.”
“That sentence means nothing.”
“Emotionally, though?”
You laughed quietly.
Outside, the fire had died down to glowing embers.
The forest had settled into stillness.
And despite the disaster of the entire day, warmth spread softly through your chest.
Because somehow this—
The yelling.
The terrible planning.
The broken tents.
The near starvation.
The absolute incompetence—
Was still one of the happiest days you’d had in a while.
Then Jisung screamed again from the neighboring tent.
“THERE’S SOMETHING TOUCHING MY LEG.”
A pause.
Then Seungmin’s exhausted voice:
“That’s literally my arm.”
“Oh.”
Another pause.
“…Why is it damp?”
“GET OUT.”
You buried your face in your sleeping bag laughing while Felix nearly suffocated trying not to scream with laughter beside you.
From outside came Chan’s tired voice:
“I’m never taking you people camping again.”
And immediately eight voices answered at once.
“Yes you are.”
Wherever She Lands
Being ATEEZ's manager was exhausting under normal circumstances.
Being ATEEZ's manager while suffering from mononucleosis?
That was a special kind of nightmare.
The fatigue wasn't normal tiredness.
It wasn't the kind that disappeared after a good night's sleep.
It was bone-deep.
The kind that made your body feel weighted down with concrete.
The kind that turned simply standing into a challenge.
The kind that made your eyes close before your brain even realized what was happening.
Unfortunately, your job didn't exactly allow for bed rest.
Schedules still existed.
Interviews still happened.
Music shows still needed managers.
And despite your doctor practically begging you to take time off, you'd stubbornly insisted you could handle it.
The members disagreed.
Strongly.
The first time they found you asleep somewhere ridiculous was at KQ.
You'd been answering emails while sitting on the floor outside a practice room.
One moment you were typing.
The next—
"You think manager-nim is ignoring us?"
"Probably."
"She's looking right at her phone."
"Manager-nim?"
Silence.
"Manager-nim?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"She's sleeping."
All eight members stared.
You were sitting upright against the wall.
Phone still in hand.
Head tilted awkwardly.
Completely unconscious.
Wooyoung blinked.
"That's terrifying."
San crouched beside you.
"How does someone fall asleep sitting?"
Mingi nodded.
"That's actually impressive."
Hongjoong's expression immediately tightened.
"How long has she been sleeping?"
Nobody knew.
Yeosang gently removed the phone from your hand.
You didn't even wake up.
That was when they started worrying.
The second time happened in a van.
You were supposed to be giving them the day's schedule.
Instead, halfway through reading it—
"And then after the radio appearance we have—"
Silence.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Seonghwa looked over.
Your head had fallen forward.
You were asleep.
Mid-sentence.
Jongho sighed.
"Again."
"How does she keep doing that?"
"Maybe she's a robot with low battery."
"You can't say that while she's dying."
"I'm not dying," you mumbled without opening your eyes.
The members jumped.
"You were awake?"
"No."
"You literally answered."
"I'm sleeping."
Then you immediately fell back asleep.
The van exploded into laughter.
The third time was genuinely concerning.
It was nearly midnight.
Practice had ended.
Everyone was exhausted.
Hongjoong was the last one leaving.
He almost missed the small figure curled beneath a table in a meeting room.
"..."
He blinked.
Walked closer.
"...Manager?"
No response.
You were asleep.
Under a table.
Using a stack of schedule binders as a pillow.
Hongjoong stared.
Then immediately pulled out his phone.
Emergency group chat.
Hongjoong: Found manager.
Wooyoung: Where?
Hongjoong: Under a table.
San: WHAT?
Mingi: Is she alive?
Hongjoong: Unfortunately.
Five minutes later eight men stood around the table.
Looking down at you.
You remained asleep.
Yeosang sighed.
"Poor thing."
Seonghwa carefully draped his hoodie over you.
Jongho checked your temperature.
Wooyoung crouched down.
"Manager-nim."
Nothing.
"Manager."
Nothing.
"Free chicken."
Your eyes opened instantly.
The room erupted.
"NO WAY!"
"SHE'S AWAKE!"
"THAT WORKED!"
You immediately closed your eyes again.
"Five more minutes."
After that, they began keeping track.
Not intentionally.
It just became impossible not to.
Because they found you asleep everywhere.
On couches.
In waiting rooms.
Against walls.
In makeup chairs.
At desks.
On the floor.
Once inside a storage closet.
Nobody ever figured out why you'd gone in there.
Not even you.
The members adapted.
Especially Seonghwa.
Seonghwa became your unofficial caretaker.
If he noticed you slowing down, he'd quietly hand you water.
If he saw dark circles under your eyes, he'd make sure you ate.
If you looked dizzy, he'd immediately appear beside you.
Sometimes it felt like he had a sixth sense.
One afternoon you nearly dropped a stack of paperwork after standing up too quickly.
A hand caught the papers.
Another steadied your shoulder.
Seonghwa.
"You okay?"
"Fine."
"You almost fell."
"I'm okay."
"You say that every time."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"I am a little dizzy."
"Thought so."
Hongjoong became the responsible one.
Which wasn't surprising.
If schedules ended early, he'd force you to leave.
If staff meetings ran long, he'd tell everyone you needed rest.
If he caught you working during breaks—
"Go sleep."
"I'm busy."
"Go sleep."
"I have work."
"Go sleep."
"..."
"That's not a suggestion."
Yeosang started carrying snacks.
Not for himself.
For you.
You'd never notice until suddenly a granola bar appeared in your hand.
Or a juice box.
Or fruit.
One day you looked down.
"Yeosang."
"Yes?"
"Did you put a banana in my bag?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"You forgot breakfast."
Yunho became transportation.
Whenever he spotted you trying to carry something heavy—
"No."
"I can do it."
"No."
"Yunho—"
"No."
The item would immediately disappear into his hands.
You never won.
Not once.
Mingi worried constantly.
He tried not to show it.
Failed miserably.
"Did you sleep?"
"Yes."
"How many hours?"
"Enough."
"That wasn't a number."
"It was enough."
"Manager-nim."
"Mingi."
"Manager-nim."
"...seven."
"Okay."
"Happy?"
"No."
San became aggressively affectionate.
Which was dangerous.
Because mono made you cold all the time.
And San discovered this.
One filming day he found you shivering.
Five minutes later he appeared with three blankets.
Three.
"San."
"You looked cold."
"I only need one."
"You have three."
"Why?"
"In case one gets lonely."
Wooyoung took a different approach.
Annoyance.
Not real annoyance.
Protective annoyance.
The kind that came from caring too much.
One day he caught you carrying equipment.
He looked horrified.
"What are you doing?"
"Working."
"Put that down."
"No."
"You're literally sick."
"I'll survive."
"You fell asleep in a chair yesterday."
"I was resting."
"You were snoring."
"I don't snore."
"You absolutely snore."
Jongho became the practical one.
He researched.
Constantly.
"What symptoms today?"
"Jongho."
"What symptoms?"
"I'm fine."
"Rate your fatigue."
"You sound like a doctor."
"Answer the question."
Then there was the incident.
The one that finally convinced everyone you were pushing yourself too hard.
ATEEZ had a long filming day.
Everyone was tired.
Everyone wanted to go home.
You'd spent the entire day running around handling staff issues.
By midnight you could barely keep your eyes open.
Still, you kept going.
Because that's what managers did.
At least until Seonghwa noticed you hadn't spoken in twenty minutes.
That wasn't normal.
You always spoke.
Constantly.
Schedules.
Reminders.
Updates.
Warnings.
The silence worried him.
He found you backstage.
Curled up on a pile of jackets.
Fast asleep.
Phone still in your hand.
Dark circles under your eyes.
Face pale.
Looking utterly exhausted.
Seonghwa's heart dropped.
The others gathered quickly.
Nobody joked this time.
Nobody laughed.
Because suddenly you looked less funny and more sick.
Really sick.
Hongjoong sighed.
"She's getting worse."
Nobody argued.
Because they all knew he was right.
You woke up to voices.
Soft ones.
Concerned ones.
"...she needs rest."
"...doctor said recovery takes time."
"...she never listens."
You slowly opened your eyes.
Eight worried faces immediately turned toward you.
"Oh."
"She's awake."
"Hi."
"Good morning."
"It's two in the morning."
You groaned.
Everyone smiled.
Because at least you were awake.
Then Hongjoong crouched beside you.
"Manager."
You immediately knew that tone.
Dangerous.
Leader tone.
The one nobody argued with.
"Yes?"
"You're taking tomorrow off."
"No."
"That wasn't a question."
"We have schedules."
"We have other managers."
"But—"
"No."
"Joong—"
"No."
"Captain."
"No."
The members looked delighted.
You looked betrayed.
The next morning you discovered they'd been serious.
Your work phone was gone.
Your schedule was covered.
Your apartment fridge had somehow been stocked.
There were meals.
Medicine.
Sports drinks.
Fruit.
Notes.
So many notes.
One from each member.
Please rest.
Stop working.
We mean it.
Sleep.
Seriously sleep.
That's an order.
Please.
We'll be okay.
Don't make us kidnap you.
You laughed so hard you nearly cried.
Three days later you returned.
Feeling slightly better.
Still tired.
But better.
When you walked into the company building, everyone immediately noticed.
ATEEZ most of all.
"There she is."
"Alive."
"Finally."
"Did you rest?"
"A little."
"A little?"
"Okay, a lot."
"Good."
For once, nobody looked worried.
Just relieved.
The sleeping didn't stop completely.
Mono wasn't magical.
Recovery was slow.
But now whenever they found you asleep somewhere ridiculous—
A couch.
A chair.
A waiting room.
A practice room floor.
Someone would quietly place a blanket over you.
Someone would leave water nearby.
Someone would make sure nobody disturbed you.
Because by then everyone knew.
Their manager worked harder than anyone.
She took care of all eight of them every single day.
The least they could do—
Was take care of her too.
And if that meant letting her nap in increasingly bizarre locations?
Well.
That was just part of the job.
Even if finding your manager asleep inside an empty equipment case remained one of the most confusing moments of their careers.
To this day, nobody knows how you got in there.
Not even you.
