A long overdue SB19 Fanart Series based on SB19 DAM music video (supposed to finish them last year but welp life happens). Inspired by tarot cards, also my first time drawing in Procreate!
Photos are not arranged by numbers but arranged like this because they look good this way hahaha anyways here's who they are:
I- The Wolf King (Pablo)
II- The Cursed Hunter (Josh)
III- The Golden Bard (Stell)
IV- The Crow Knight (Ken)
V- The Wise Seer (Justin)
Planning on making them as physical cards as freebies for the upcoming SB19 Trilogy Finale Concert! Hope they turn out fine!
The boys thought you were using him because you’re too young, too convenient. But the truth cuts deeper—you never needed anything from Jeongin except him. When he finally defends you, guilt settles in, but some judgments linger longer than apologies can fix.
❛ ━━━━━━･❪🦊❫･━━━━━━ ❜
It starts with whispers.
Not the loud, obvious kind—no, the kind that slip between half-closed doors and unfinished sentences. The kind that linger in the air even after everyone pretends they’ve moved on.
You noticed it the very first time you set foot in the dorm, though it was never direct.
It was never a confrontation.
It’s in the way conversations dip when you enter. In the way eyes flicker—not hostile, not cruel, just careful.
You were used to being underestimated, of course. It was a byproduct of the life you chose to lead.
You’re twenty, still in university, juggling deadlines and group projects and the kind of exhaustion that settles deep in your bones. You don’t look intimidating. You don’t carry yourself like someone people should be wary of.
And you definitely don’t look like someone who grew up with more money than she knows what to do with.
So you smile. You bow politely. You thank them for letting you come over.
You act exactly how they expect you to.
Jeongin didn’t notice the tension at first, or perhaps he was simply too blinded by the light you brought into his world to see the shadows his brothers were casting.
He’s too busy hovering near you, making sure you’re comfortable, handing you drinks, quietly asking if you’ve eaten.
His attention is soft, constant.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs at one point, leaning close enough that only you can hear.
You nodded immediately, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Of course.”
And you mean it.
Because being with him was the only thing in your life that didn't feel like a performance or a chore. It was the easiest breath you took all day.
It’s Minho who says it first. Not to your face—he was too calculated for that. Instead, he waited until you had gathered your things and slipped out the door
“You don’t think it’s… weird?” he mutters one night when you’ve already left, voice low but not low enough.
“Weird how?” Changbin asks.
“She’s still in school,” Minho replies. “Jeongin’s working nonstop, and she’s… what? Studying? Hanging around? It’s just—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, letting the silence do the heavy lifting.
The implication lands anyway.
Hyunjin exhales slowly. “You’re thinking she’s using him.”
Minho doesn’t deny it.
The worst part was that they didn’t hate you.
If they had been cruel, you could have built a wall. If they had been openly hostile, you could have defended yourself or stayed away.
But they didn't hate you; they just didn't trust you.
And somehow, that feels heavier.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Jeongin finds out by accident.
He wasn’t supposed to hear it. He just happened to stumble into a conversation he was never supposed to hear.
He’s halfway down the hall when he catches his name—then yours. He froze, his hand hovering near the doorframe, his heart beginning to hammer a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
“I’m just saying,” Seungmin says, voice sharper than usual, “he’s too nice. If she asked for anything, he’d give it.”
“And has she?” Chan asks quietly.
There was a long, agonizing pause that seemed to stretch the very air in the hallway.
“We don’t know that,” Seungmin admits, though his tone suggested he was already bracing for the worst.
Something in Jeongin’s chest twisted into a painful knot. It wasn't anger yet; it was a profound, staggering sense of disbelief that the people he looked up to could see the person he loved through such a distorted lens.
That night, he doesn’t tell you.
He can’t. Because when he calls, your voice is tired but warm, telling him about a presentation you survived and a professor who nearly gave you a heart attack.
You laughed, a sound so genuine and unburdened that it made his throat ache.
And he thinks—there’s no way. There’s no way they could think that about you.
Not when you were like this. Not when you were so vibrantly, authentically yourself.
So he keeps quiet…for now.
But you notice the shift before he says anything.
Jeongin isn’t good at hiding things. At least, not from you.
“What’s wrong?” you ask one evening, sitting across from him in a quiet café near your campus.
“Nothing,” he said, the word coming out far too quickly to be true.
You raise a brow, waiting. He sighs.
“The members…” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “They said something. About us. About you.”
Your hands still around your cup.
There it is. The moment you had been bracing for since the first day you walked into their dorm.
“And?” you ask gently.
He hesitates. “They think you’re… with me for the wrong reasons. They think you're taking advantage of what I have.”
He couldn't even bring himself to say the words properly, as if speaking them made the insult more real. You just nodded slowly, a small, hollow sound escaping your lips.
“Oh.”
That’s it.
Just a simple, quiet acknowledgment of a reality you had already accepted.
Jeongin’s frown deepened, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You’re not even mad? They're questioning your integrity.”
You shrugged lightly, your eyes dropping to the swirling tea in your cup. “It makes sense, Jeongin. From their perspective, I'm just a student with nothing to my name. They're protective of you. I can't blame them for that.”
He hates how calm you are.
He hates it more than if you’d gotten angry.
“They don’t know you,” he says.
You offered him a faint, bittersweet smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.
“Exactly.”
You didn’t defend yourself, and you didn't offer a list of reasons why they were wrong. You didn't try to fix the perception they had of you, and you certainly didn't ask Jeongin to talk to them on your behalf.
And somehow, that makes it worse.
Because to you, it’s not worth the effort.
Because to you, their opinion doesn’t matter enough.
Jeongin, on the other hand, can’t let it go. He lived in a world where those seven men were his pillars, and he couldn't stand the thought of them leaning against a lie.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The tension built slowly.
It wasn't an explosive fight; Jeongin was never the type to shatter things just to be heard. It was quieter, sharper, and far more dangerous.
The next time the topic was broached in the dorm—a stray comment about "gold-diggers" disguised as a joke—Jeongin didn't stay silent.
“You’re wrong.”
Seven heads turned in unison, the casual atmosphere of the living room evaporating instantly.
“No,” he cuts in. “You don’t get to say things like that and then just… move on.”
Seungmin exhales. “We’re just worried about you.”
“I didn’t ask you to be.”
That sentence landed harder than any shout could have. It was a declaration of independence they weren't prepared for. Jeongin never talked to them like that; he was the one they protected, the one who followed their lead. Seeing him stand his ground with such cold conviction left them reeling.
“She’s not using me,” he continues, jaw tight. “You don’t know anything about her.”
“Then tell us,” Hyunjin says carefully.
Jeongin laughs—but there’s no humor in it.
“You think this is about money?”
No one answers.
That’s answer enough.
“She pays for her own things,” he says. “Always has. Half the time she refuses to let me buy anything.”
“That doesn’t mean—” Changbin starts to argue but Jeongin doesn’t let him finish.
“She comes from money.”
The silence that followed was absolute. It was the kind of silence that felt like it was pressing in from all sides, popping the bubbles of their assumptions one by one.
Jeongin ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over.
“Not just ‘comfortable.’ Not just ‘well-off.’ I mean… crazy rich.”
Minho scoffed, though it sounded forced. “Jeongin, don't exaggerate just to—”
“I’ve been to her house.”
That stops him.
“You think our dorm is big?” Jeongin continues quietly. “Her place has staff. Multiple. She has drivers she doesn’t even use because she prefers taking public transport.”
No one spoke. No one moved. The image they had built of you—a desperate girl clinging to a star—disintegrated into ash.
“She doesn’t show it,” he adds. “On purpose. Because she hates being treated differently.”
His eyes flickered across each of their faces, noting the dawning realization and the creeping shame.
“And this is exactly why.”
The guilt didn't hit them all at once; it was a slow, suffocating tide. They had spent weeks patting themselves on the back for "protecting" their brother, only to realize they had been the villains in a story they didn't even understand.
Seungmin looks away first.
“…we didn’t know,” he mutters.
“I know,” Jeongin says.
And somehow, his lack of surprise was the worst part.
Chan exhales, rubbing his face. “We made assumptions.”
“Yeah,” Jeongin replies quietly. “You did.”
Minho sits up straighter, something uneasy settling in his chest. He was a man who prided himself on his intuition, and realizing he had been so fundamentally wrong was a bitter pill to swallow.
“Does she know?” he asks.
Jeongin pauses.
“Yeah.”
That answer sinks like a stone.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
You didn’t bring it up when you saw them again.
Not when Jeongin tells you what happened.
Not when he apologizes—over and over, like he’s the one who did something wrong.
“It’s not your fault,” you say gently, reaching out to smooth the worry from his brow.
But this time, he doesn’t accept it.
“It doesn't matter whose fault it is. It still hurt you. I brought you into this environment, and I didn't protect you from the start.”
When you visit the dorms again, everything is different.
Not hostile. Not distant. It was just…heavy.
Their eyes lingered on you longer than they used to, but the suspicion was gone, replaced by something much more uncomfortable—regret.
Chan is the first to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said. It was simple, direct, and carried the weight of his entire position as the leader.
You blinked, caught off guard. “Chan, you don't have to—”
“We do,” he interrupts softly. “We were wrong about you, and we were unfair. You deserved better than the welcome we gave you.”
One by one, they follow.
The apologies were awkward, sincere, and entirely unpolished.
Minho still couldn't quite meet your eyes. Seungmin looked like he was swallowing something sharp and unpleasant, his apology precise and deeply felt. Hyunjin didn't just apologize; he bowed a little deeper than was strictly necessary, his eyes brimming with a soft, dramatic sort of remorse.
You listened to each of them. You nodded and you accepted it.
You didn't do it because they had earned your immediate forgiveness, but because holding onto the resentment would be an exhausting task you simply didn't have the room for.
And you’re already tired enough.
“It’s okay,” you say in the end.
And you mean it. Mostly.
Later, when you’re alone with Jeongin, he watches you carefully.
“You’re still upset.”
You sigh softly.
“Not exactly upset.”
“Then what?”
You took a moment to think about it. You thought about the whispers that had followed you your whole life—the ones about your family, the ones about your money, and now the ones about your relationship.
“…it just gets old,” you admit.
He frowns, the pain for you etched clearly on his face.
“People deciding who you are before you even get the chance to show them.”
Jeongin doesn’t know what to say to that.
So he does the only thing he can.
He reaches for your hand and holds it tightly like he’s afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t.
“You’re not going anywhere, right?” he asks quietly.
You look at him.
At the boy who defended you without hesitation. Who chose you without doubt.
And you smile—soft, tired, but real. You squeezed his hand back, anchoring him.
“I’m not the one you should be worried about leaving.”
For the first time since all of this started, Jeongin breathes a little easier.
And inside the dorm, behind the glass door, seven men began the long, slow process of learning who you actually were—not as an assumption, but as a person who was far more than they ever gave you credit for.
Wakas at Simula: The trilogy concert finale (just me rambling because I'm still on a concert high).
I'm not sure I could summarize an entire experience. But I'm going to try.
Last night was my first SB19 concert ever and it's my second concert in my entire life. And it was such an amazing experience, even with all the heat and humidity and the imperfections that happened. One of these mistakes was when Josh's inner ear (I thought it was the mic when I saw it) messed up and it caused him to mess up his line in "Visa". I was so concerned and cared more about his safety (even though rationally I knew they were professionals). I'm glad they were able to quickly solve it and he had no issues for the rest of the night. I was fortunate enough to experience this with one of my closest friends from college. She considers herself a new A'tin because it's only this year that she finally listened to their music. While we couldn't really see anything from our spot (we were at the back section of VIP) the live vocals and the large screen made up for it. During times when it was my personal favorite songs like "Mana" I stood on my chair and carefully danced to their live vocals. I lived and danced in the moment and even from afar their performance and arrangement was cool, epic, and stunning. Whenever we would stand up and party (like in the Bazinga-Crimzone mashup) everyone was jumping and enthusiastic. Cashual Chuck mentioned in his review that during that part, he literally felt the ground shake. I personally didn't feel it but then again my friend and I were also jumping and dancing. I also shed alot of tears during the emotional moments. Especially when mahalima implied that they were scared that when the day comes when they will no longer be performing, they wonder if the A'tin will still be there and if that day may come sooner rather than later. It's a sobering reality that these men who are in my age bracket (Stell and I are the same age) are now also slowly transitioning into a life wherein they won't be performing as much so that they can begin to have families of their own (or at least more private lives than what they currently have). Perhaps this is why when they finally sang "Wakas" it hits a lot harder than usual. Everything will one day end. My life, the human race (hopefully later rather than sooner), the earth itself, even things on the internet aren't as permanent as people claim it is. And out of all the things that could have happened, I was given the opportunity to hear them live. Maybe the reason why I didn't mind not recording many of their performances was because I know that even a fancam of their concert is nothing compared to savoring their vocals live. Despite how difficult the world is and how difficult my own struggles are, SB19 reminded me that there's hope and to not give up on my dreams.
So thank you to everyone who made this event possible. And I would also like to thank the special guest stars in the concert. Thank you to Be:First, you have gained a new fan after hearing your vocals live (my favorite from their solo set is their song "Be first all day"). Thank you to kuya Jay, the choreographer behind Mahalima's hit dance moves (the most well-known is Gento). I'm looking forward to your career as J2X under 1Z Entertainment. I can't wait for your new songs to be released. Thank you to Xonara, you did a good job girls, can't wait for your debut on May 15, you've got this. And thank you to Rie Hata for your dance performance, Emoji wouldn't be the same without you. Even from afar I couldn't take my eyes off of you dancing.
Sabi nung isa, “Buti pa siya ang ganda ng trabaho sa abroad samantalang ako andito pa rin sa Pinas.”
Sabi naman nung isa, “Buti pa siya magkakasama sila ng pamilya niya sa Pinas samantalang ako mag-isa lang dito sa abroad.”
—-
Sabi nung isa, “Buti pa siya may asawa at mga anak na.”
Sabi naman nung isa, “Buti pa siya, ang sarap ng buhay pa-travel travel na lang. Single kasi.”
—
Sabi nung isa, “Buti pa siya may lovelife. Samantalang ako 29 na single pa din.”
Sabi naman nung isa, “Buti pa siya single. May time pa rin magwalwal kasama ang tropa niya.”
—
Sabi nung isa, “Kainis. Ang bobo ko talaga. Isa na lang mapeperfect ko na yung exam.”
Sabi naman nung isa, “Pakshet. Isang point na lang nakaabot sana ako sa passing score.”
—
Sabi nung isa, “Gusto ko na magresign. Ang kupal ng bisor ko!”
Sabi naman nung isa, “Buti pa siya may trabaho.”
—-
Sabi nung isa, “Buti pa siya busy sa negosyo. Siguro ang yaman na niya.”
Sabi naman nung isa, “Buti pa siya may peace of mind, pa-Netflix Netflix na lang.samantalang ako stressed sa negosyo.”
—-
Sabi nung isa, “Buti pa siya masaya.”
Sabi naman nung isa, “Buti pa siya mas masaya.”
—-
Gets mo? Minsan, yung mga bagay na inirereklamo mo ngayon, hindi mo alam matagal na palang pinapangarap ng iba.
Sa lahat ng sitwasyon palagi tayong may makikitang kulang. Palagi nating makikita kung ano ang wala tayo kaya pakiramdam natin hindi pa rin sapat. Kasi mali yung konsepto natin kung paano maging masaya. Ang ginagawa nating basehan ng kaligayahan ay ang kaligayahang nakikita natin sa iba. Kaya ang ending, instead of actually finding happiness, you find disappointment.
Hindi masamang mangarap na “Sana, we could have the best of both worlds.” Wag nga daw tumigil mangarap di ba. “Don’t settle for something less than you deserve” nga daw. Pero minsan sa sobrang focused natin in “The Pursuit of Happiness” nakakalimutan na nating maging masaya right at the moment.
Siguro, baka kelangan muna nating huminto saglit at namnamin pansamantala ang mga bagay na meron tayo para marealize nating wala yan sa taas o sa baba ng pangarap o sa layo ng narating mo. Dahil minsan, mas masaya pa yung simpleng mekaniko sa trabaho niya kesa dun sa Mechanical Engineer na naka-based sa Doha. Dahil minsan, mas masaya pa yung dalawang magjowang tambay lang sa tindahan na may inner peace habang humihigop ng milktea kesa dun sa magjowang nag 3days-2nights sa Bali.
At the end of the day, it’s about being grateful with what you have kahit nasaang sitwasyon ka pa; Unli-Samqyeopsal ma yan o bente pesos na kwek-kwek lang sa kanto, Tahitian Vanilla Macchiatto man yan o limang pisong palamig na puro sago.
Malay mo, dun pa rin pala tayo sasaya sa mga simpleng bagay na meron na tayo dati pa. ‘Coz where we are depends on how we look at things.
I feel weirdly sad about nothing in particular and want to have a good cry but there’s nothing to actually cry about and also I have loads of stuff to do
theartofmadeline
izzy806
yousharknotpass
2087
snowghoul
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
romaincrisis
janainaart
