PROMPT: “I rented the apartment above your flower shop and in the last two months you’ve gotten a new flower I’m allergic to so I keep buying bouquets until I can figure out which kind it is”
The man who lived upstairs was weird-ish. Min Jun, that was his name. He’d always buy bouquets… for no one. He’d always pay for a different bouquet everyday, for the last two months. Sure, maybe he liked flowers. Maybe he liked adorning his apartment with nature. Maybe he was a softie. But, he did this religiously. Every week or so, when the flowers would wilt, he’d buy a large bouquet of the same kind of flower. You didn’t think much of this, after all he paid good money for it. It was becoming a habit. Seeing him come home, buy a bouquet on the way, then leave. You’d have small talk, most of the time, advertising new, beautiful flowers. Then one day, he came back, mask on, eyes puffy. As he chose the hydrangeas, you asked him if he was alright, everyday casual talk. He managed a muffled smile. You noticed his smiling eyes, even under the puffiness. He tells you about his allergies, somewhat bashfully, and you can’t help but smile. You point to the flowers in his hands, and explain to him that hydrangeas have been in season lately; about two months. He blinks. Suddenly he erupts in laughter and sighs deeply. You can’t help but smile at his relief. You promise that the season is ending soon, so you wouldn’t be selling hydrangeas anymore, and in turn, he promises to call you after the whole thing is over.
PROMPT: “Tried to get the candy bar that didn’t drop out of the vending machine and now my hand is stuck can u help me pls”
You were walking home, the sun had just begun to set, and you decided to take a longer route home because the temperature had begun to get cooler, so walking was more of an enjoyment rather than a chore. You walked past a row of vending machines, wondering if you should get a drink, when you spotted a man, kneeling, looking desperately helpless, his entire arm stuck up the machine. He waves at you, calling out for help, awkwardly. You’re taken aback at first, but stifled a laugh. You kneel beside him and press your fingers into his toned arm, and try pulling. Obviously, it doesn’t work. Taecyeon examines his arm, while you examine his face. He was hot, you couldn’t deny. Taecyeon introduces himself, and admits defeat. He sits in an awkward position, planning to wait it out. You sit bside him, mentioning how lonely it’d be. The two of you talked for a long while, laughing and just genuinely enjoying each other’s company, before the maintenance man saw you two, opened the machine, and heaved Taecyeon’s arm out. A large impression was left and you couldn’t suppress the laugh which erupted from your abdomen. Taecyeon smiled softly, ashamed; he thanked you for the help, and discretely asked for your number, just in case he got stuck in a machine again, he’d really like your company again.
PROMPT: “We wore matching Halloween costumes to this party and now there’s a huge debate on whose costume is better but tbh mine is”
Wooyoung the Devil. Literally. He’d painted himself a nice deep, has set yellow contacts, and a very believable set of horns and tail. JYP always held these type of parties, so he felt very obliged to be, well, the best. Or at least, the coolest. He walked inside, and mingled with his friends, music blaring in the background. Suddenly, there’s an uproar. Being related to Jay Park, and being a trainee yourself, meant you had to come (even if you didn’t want to). The moment you walked inside, your uncle walked over towards you, and your fellow trainees. But this was when the chaos started. There was suddenly a very large, and extremely loud debate about who looked better: you or Wooyoung. You were close with Wooyoung, so naturally, you felt very competitive. You were in the middle of the group, before you were led to Wooyoung. He had just declared that, you looked better, obviously, because you had an appeal that he didn’t have. Loudly, you said that you agreed. The other idols watch, amused. There had been this tension between the two of you, ever since back when you first began. Maybe this would be the night where something would happen. He was in the middle of what would’ve been an insult, when his mind outworked his mouth. Instead, he complimented on how beautiful you were. If it weren’t for the paint, you would’ve seen how red he was. Somewhere from the back, Jackson shouted for Wooyoung to just make a proper move already. And thanks to him, the DJ played a slow, eerily enchanting song for you two. Wooyoung seemed unwilling at first, but you pulled him by the arm, trying not to show your embarrassed face. He grinned, and pulled you in by the waist. Happy Halloween.
PROMPT: “Can you help me sneak my cat into my no-pets-allowed apartment but careful my landlady has bionic eyes she sees all”
Junho never imagined that one day he’d be illegally smuggling a cat into his apartment. That was, until he saw you, cradling a cat in your arms, peering into the crack between the door. You looked like a total weirdo. He’d seen you before though, he recognised you as the woman who lived across him. He asked you what you were trying to do, and you replied, whispering, telling him about your whole fiasco with the cat you had just randomly adopted. He suppressed a laugh and made sure his face was serious, because you seemed very serious about this. Luckily, Junho had brought a backpack with him. He unpacked his things, and you took them in your arms for him. Carefully, he placed the cat inside his backpack. Together, you walked side by side. Everything was going well until the two of you passed by your landlady. The cat suddenly started meowing. Your landlady was immediately alarmed and stared at the two of you. Junho acted quickly, pulling you close into his arms and tickling you, pulling an amused smile. You gasped, laughed hard, and jerked away. He took your hand, still feeling the eyes of the landlady on the two of you, and ran to the elevator, laughing. He explained to you, inside, about why he did what he did. His intention was to distract the lady, making her think you two were just another playful couple. Once you successfully got home, you kissed his cheek, thanking him, lowly muttering that you liked the idea. He watched you walk inside your room, with a set of extremely pink cheeks.
PROMPT: “We have matching duffel bags and I think we accidentally switched bc I do not remember buying 2 pounds of strawberry flavoured Pocky”
You got home, tired from the long flight. When you opened your bag to unpack, your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Pocky. That’s all there was. Strawberry flavoured Pocky. You were in a complete hysteria. There wasn’t any name on the bag, nor was there any contact number. You couldn’t believe that you’d managed to haul in the wrong bag. All your belongings were probably now with the rightful owner to this bag. You were sure you had placed your identification on that bag, so whoever must have taken it, should’ve called by now. You were pacing the room, unconsciously eating a pack of Pocky. You were trying to remember if you placed your information on the bag. You remember placing your name, your number, perhaps? You couldn’t remember. And your… suddenly the doorbell rang. Your address. You briskly walked to the door and opened it. There you saw Nichkhun, with your bag in hand. You let him in, introduced yourself, and apologised for the mix up. And for eating some of his Pocky. In turn, he apologised for not being careful. You noticed his tired looking eyes, and unconsciously blurted if he wante to stay for a drink. He looked surprised, but he was glad that you asked him. Nichkhun, being the sweetheart he is, complimented you and your home. After a while, you two switched bags and he was off. You were about to unpack when your phone vibrated. It was a message, from Nichkhun.
PROMPT: “It’s raining really hard and you don’t have an umbrella but I do so do u wanna share bc I rly wanna leave and u rly wanna leave so um”
As a lyricist, you compose and write dozens of songs, for multiple groups. So far into the year, you’ve been working closely with JYP, especially 2PM. You were doing some overtime to get a song done, when Chansung walked into the room and advised you it’d be best if you’d go home; it was getting pretty late anyway. You agreed, heart racing a little at the sign of his concern. You had always admired Chansung. He was interesting, he knew how to play his charm, and it definitely worked on you, Ms. Professional. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the rain starting pouring down very quickly. Luckily, you brought an umbrella. Unfortunately, Chansung didn’t, and his car was out in the rain. You two stood awkwardly beside each other. You were fiddling with your umbrella, looking up between him and it. You mustered up the courage and opened the umbrella, placed it over his head and smiled at him, beckoning for him to start walking. He smiled in return, pulled you close by the waist, and placing his arm on your shoulder, protectively, so you wouldn’t get doused in the rain, and walked to his car. You felt his warm breath against your head, which contrasted the cold air. You were just about ready to faint. Once you got to his car, he opened the door to the passenger seat first, beckoning you to get in, with a smile.
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