[baekonbaek]

happy birthday mark lee!! (insp) (insp2) cred 1, 2, 3

[njmin]

happy birthday to our well-rounded baby mark lee!!!

[softpuppynana]

WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME

[njmin]

[ 11:32 am ]

“hey, what flavor is that?”

you glance at the chapstick you were applying on your dry lips, your nose scrunching and your eyebrows furrowing as you read the label. “mm... strawberry.”

bestfriend!jeno shifts closer to you on the couch the two of you had been sitting on. “can i try?”

nodding, you hold the chapstick out to him.

your eyes widen when his lips chastely meet yours, watching in shock as jeno pulls away and licks his coated lips thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.

“yup. definitely strawbe- y/n, are you okay?”

[njmin]

Hi! I just stumbled upon your works & even though you’re a relatively new blog, your works are really great. 💚 Looking forward to reading more of your works 🤗

hello! thank you so so much! that literally means the world to me :’) i’m settling into a new place rn so i’ve been a little busy but i’ll be up and posting sometime soon hopefully! i plan to release the next part of my series “the exception” by the end of this week!

[njmin]

hi! i'm just here to say that i like 'the exception' so far, really interesting. i hope you're getting much needed rest, and that you stay healthy!!

hi!! thank you so much! i’m really, really glad you think so :) you take care of yourself too, love! 

[njmin]

[ 3:22 pm ]

“ah, seriously?” jisung mumbles under his breath, rummaging through the smaller pocket of his backpack, “it was just here.”

unable to find what he was looking for, the young maknae puffs his cheeks and swivels around in his seat. “hyung, do you have an extra set of airpods?”

jaemin, lost in the world of kartrider, shakes his head absent-mindedly before the question finally processes. “you lost them again?” he asks with a frown, “isn’t this the third time?”

“…yeah.”

“jisung-ah,” the blue-haired boy starts, tone switching from that of a friend’s to that of a mother’s, “you need to take better care of your things.”

“please fasten your seatbelts as we begin our take off,” the flight attendant interrupts through the speaker, followed by a click.

slinking back into his seat, jisung sighs. this was going to be a long plane ride.

a sudden light tap on his shoulder draws his attention. turning his head, he’s greeted by a single airpod being held out to him.

“i overheard your conversation with the guy behind you,” you, his random seatmate, explain sheepishly, “you can share with me if you’d like.”

the boy stares at you incredulously. “o-oh, really? thanks.”

he gently takes the earbud, ignoring the little flutter in his stomach when his fingers brush briefly against yours.

jisung shifts excitedly in your direction when the music you’re listening to fills his ear. “i love coldplay!”

“really?! me too!”

unbeknownst to the both of you, jaemin was listening to your conversation unfold. smirking to himself knowingly, he leans back into the comforts of his first-class seat, smug.

“ah,” he muses as he toys with the maknae’s missing airpods in the palm of his hand, “young love.”

[njmin]

currently boarding a flight rn! lowkey hoping i'll meet someone i can share airpods with :')

[moonzoned]

Lee Jeno ▮▮

[njmin]

this is me trying to make up for my lack of jeno content on this blog

[njmin]

hi hi !! can i be added to the tallest for 'the exception'? it seems so interesting so far 💞

of course sweet pea! i'm really relieved that you think so 😅❤️

[njmin]

THE EXCEPTION—  the past

previous // m.list // next

genre ; superpower!au // action // romance

warnings ; the tiniest bit of blood, angst (?)

author’s note ; it’s a little slow but this is really important for context later on :) it picks up in the next chapter, i promise. send me an ask for a tag!

five years ago

“August 24, 2015.”

You set the small voice recorder on the ground, the small dome on the top flashing red. Carefully crossing your legs one over the other, you plop yourself down on the asphalt, wincing slightly at the sharp pain shooting up your leg, “Hands down the worst day of my life.”

Languidly, you stretch your scraped leg out in front of you, and observe the thin, angled scratches etched into the cracked skin of your knee. It was an ugly sight, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to.

“A group of boys followed me in the park today,” you recount, propping your good knee up and leaning your back against the brick wall blackened with age behind you, eyes still trained on your scrape.

“I didn’t think much of it because it was a park and there were a lot of kids my age doing normal kid stuff," You blink blankly, your voice trailing off, "Like, you know… " 

Your dirtied fingers drift to the ripped holes on your scuffed up jeans and start to pick at the blood-stained threads as you struggle to finish your sentence. 

“Hanging out with friends?” You suggest finally, although it comes out as more quizzical than intentional, “Anyways, as the sun started to set and kids started going home, I realized that maybe they really were following me.” A frown pulls the corner of your lips. 

“And then things got really strange.”

Wanting to ensure that every single detail of the unexpected incident was recounted, you close your eyes, your lashes fluttering against your skin. You recall the memory to the forefront of your mind, and in your head space, you focus on the location of the scene that happened not too long ago, a slow exhale leaving your lips.

You remember the trees, the way they were blooming with the daintiest, milk white blossoms, the rusted benches, aged by the years of spring rain, the loud laughs of friends and families, dissipating as they left one by one to their warm homes.

Your eyes snap open, and then you’re there in your body,

…thirty-two minutes and fifty-six seconds ago.

“27,” you mutter under your breath, your head low. Spotting the familiar pebble you marked in your mind, you count, for the twenty-seventh time, how many circles you’d made around Tapgol park since you realized that you were being followed.

A chilly breeze nips at your nose, and you realize that the sun has now fully set, leaving you to the mercy of the moon’s fainter glow. On any other occasion, you would have preferred the soft brilliance of the moon, but with six stalkers hot on your heels, you found yourself now begging the sun to resurge and reclaim its throne in the star-filled sky.

Finding some solace in the dim, warm glow of the lampposts lined around the park’s pathway, your strides increase in speed and length as a moth, but when the little halos of light on the cemented sidewalk in front of you suddenly disappears, you freeze.

One by one, the luster in each lamp flickers off, the shadows of the park becoming darker and darker until your only savior now is the moon above.

'A coincidence,' you convince yourself, waving off any sense of crippling fear. Taking a step forward, your eyes widen with blind terror when you’re met with a strong gust of wind forcing you three steps back.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. You take another step, a little more aggressively and a little more ready. Another blast of air follows but this time you press against it, your arm raised in front of you as a barrier for your squinting eyes as you bend for stability, your hair whipping behind you. Inching forward, you make some progress before the wind suddenly stops mid-air, the lack of force causing you to stumble and ungracefully fall onto your knees, a cry escaping your lips. 

Breathing heavily, you try to catch your breath, your hands planted on the cool pavement as if the action would protect you from being swept away. All you can think about as you stare at the floor is how that wind was anything but normal. But what else could it possibly be? you think to yourself in frustration. 

Before you can figure it out, a sudden pair of black converse enlightened by a warm glow comes into your line of vision, startling you. Lifting your gaze, you quickly stagger to your feet, ignoring the stinging of your knee and the warm, crimson liquid now trickling down your leg. 

Taking a few steps back, your eyes widen as your heart begins to race. “What the hell,” you breathe out, half in fear, half in awe, as you try to process how the tall boy in front of you was effortlessly carrying a single, burning flame in his upturned hand. 

He moves forward slowly, the flame growing in both size and heat, illuminating your face and his. You mimic him like a similar pull on a magnet. Every step he takes forward, you take one step back.

"W-what do you want?" You manage to utter out weakly, all before cursing yourself for not being stronger. The only response you got in return was his heavy-set eyes locking onto yours, almost as if demanding that your fear fuel the crackling heat. 

From the shadows, someone steps into the light provided by the warm embers. Another boy, slightly more built, yet still lean, was now in your line of view. Although the harsh lighting hides his features, you can still make out the hardened look he gives you, his lips pressed into a thin line. You find yourself more scared of him than the one carrying literal fire. 

Your fear becomes tenfold when he suddenly flicks his wrist towards the ground and you find yourself unable to move an inch. Eyes flying down, you realize that your feet are stuck, having somehow been merged with the concrete underneath you.

Just when you think that things can't get any worse, they do. A levitated stream of water, to your shock and disbelief, encircles your wrists, tossing the laws of physics and science outside the window. Your hands now behind you are bound together, and suddenly it seems that these boys were much more than just stalkers. 

"Alright, y/n," you murmur to yourself, struggling helplessly against both binds with as much strength as you could possibly muster, "Time to wake up. Any second now." 

A bead of sweat leisurely trickles down your hairline and over your cheekbones from the immense heat drawing nearer and nearer and nearer. Panic settles in, and breathing becomes more and more difficult. You need to do something. Do something. 

Gasping for air in the abandoned alley, your eyes shoot open as you break yourself out of your memory, your body now dealing with every single ounce of sheer terror that you’d felt in that moment. Your dirtied fingers fly to your chest, desperate for a reminder that you were still alive, that you'd made it.

Feeling your heartbeat— fast, yet there— you sigh, focusing on the breathing exercises you’d made for yourself. Inhaling and exhaling three times, then four, then five, your shaky breaths become more and more manageable. 

This is always your least favorite part of memory traveling. The emotions you feel in a re-lived memory lingers after it's over, and your body, no matter where it may be, goes into shock at the sudden wave of emotional intensity.

But it was important to narrate; it was important that you got every detail recorded.

Your trembling fingers enclose over the recording device you placed on the asphalt earlier and you hold it tight. Lip quivering, you will yourself to continue, recalling the rest. There wasn’t much left.

"At first I thought I was dreaming. In a minute, I’d wake up and it’d all be over." 

"But then I realized that I couldn't possibly be dreaming," you pause, voice faltering, "Dreams are supposed to be nice, aren't they?"

A short, bitter laugh, ironic and hurt, echoes off the graffiti-stained walls of the trashed alley; you realize that you don't even know the answer to your own question.

Greeted with a sound silence like always, you tighten the hold on your recorder, “I got away in the end.”

“I couldn’t get it right for weeks, but… I finally did it. ” A small, proud smile finds its way onto your lips for the first time that day, your eyes flicking fondly towards the old rectangular box in the palm of your hand, “I figured out how to teleport, Dad.”

You exhale, watching as your breath rose in visible puffs, lifting to the star-filled night sky above you. The twinkling balls of fire in the air and the pale moon's milky luminescence brings a sense of peace over your body. 

“For the longest time, I thought I was the only one with powers,” you breathe out softly, resting your head languidly behind you. You catch glimpse of a star unlike the others, shooting across the horizon.

"I know it sounds silly," you continue, your eyelids growing heavy with fatigue, "But I think that those boys could be the key to understanding my powers and who I am." 

"And maybe—," you murmur, your voice drifting into a lulled whisper, “it'll lead me back to you." 

The red light, once flickering steadily, comes to a stop, and before exhaustion begins to whisk your body into a dreamless slumber, you express the most foolish, and reckless, desire of your heart,

“I hope I see them again.”

And above you, in the tranquility of the night sky, the shooting star you glimpsed only moments ago hears your whispered wish, turning your entire world upside down.

tag list ; @chenlethelegend​ -@ncitydreamies​- @jammyjamjamss

send me an ask ; lmk what power you think each dream member has! i’d love to hear your thoughts!

[njmin]

[ 3:22 pm ]

“ah, seriously?” jisung mumbles under his breath, rummaging through the smaller pocket of his backpack, “it was just here.”

unable to find what he was looking for, the young maknae puffs his cheeks and swivels around in his seat. “hyung, do you have an extra set of airpods?”

jaemin, lost in the world of kartrider, shakes his head absent-mindedly before the question finally processes. “you lost them again?” he asks with a frown, “isn’t this the third time?”

“...yeah.”

“jisung-ah,” the blue-haired boy starts, tone switching from that of a friend’s to that of a mother’s, “you need to take better care of your things.”

“please fasten your seatbelts as we begin our take off,” the flight attendant interrupts through the speaker, followed by a click.

slinking back into his seat, jisung sighs. this was going to be a long plane ride.

a sudden light tap on his shoulder draws his attention. turning his head, he’s greeted by a single airpod being held out to him.

“i overheard your conversation with the guy behind you,” you, his random seatmate, explain sheepishly, “you can share with me if you’d like.”

the boy stares at you incredulously. “o-oh, really? thanks.”

he gently takes the earbud, ignoring the little flutter in his stomach when his fingers brush briefly against yours.

jisung shifts excitedly in your direction when the music you’re listening to fills his ear. “i love coldplay!”

“really?! me too!”

unbeknownst to the both of you, jaemin was listening to your conversation unfold. smirking to himself knowingly, he leans back into the comforts of his first-class seat, smug.

“ah,” he muses as he toys with the maknae’s missing airpods in the palm of his hand, “young love.”

[njmin]

[ 10:22 am ]

"y/n, it's hot," your boyfriend whines in your ear, dragging out the vowel for what seems like minutes.

you roll your eyes. "then maybe you should let go of me," you huff, a thin film of your own sweat matting thin strands of your hair to your neck.

jaemin, with both legs entrapping yours in his and arms encasing you to the point where you could hardly breathe, pauses to think about it.

he breaks out into a wide, perfect smile, and squeezes you even tighter than before. "nah."

[njmin]

“ the exception” series masterlist.

in a world where the supernatural is artificial and good is indistinguishable from evil, you are the exception.

years ago, neo-culture technology invented the super-chip, an implanted piece of microtechnology capable of altering a human’s dna to incorporate a single power outside the perimeters of nature’s laws.

the world thought it was ingenious; you thought they were crazy.

what no one foresaw was the launch of nct’s newest invention in the most unconventional manner possible: super-teenagers.

publicly released on the 25th of august, DREAM, nct’s specially-trained unit of six young men with six remarkable powers, became world-renowned heroes as time and time again they brought the worst to their knees and the best to their feet.

all boys, girls, men, and women in the city of seoul prayed to the stars above that one day they’d be chosen to receive the groundbreaking microchip, to be selected as bearers of the very thing that could make their hopes of changing the world for the better a reality...

and you pitied them for it.

the rest of the world knows them as DREAM; you only know them as your biggest nightmare.

start ; 200620 —  

genre ; superpower!au / action / romance

author’s note ; hello lovelies! i’m super super excited to start this series! i have a lot of cool ideas and i really hope i’ll be able to bring them to fruition :’) the intro is almost done so i’ll be sure to post that tomorrow when i finish. if you have any thoughts or questions, don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask! also, pls lmk if you wanna be added to the tag list!

read ;

[ intro 1: past ]  — released on 200621 ; 10 pm EST

[ intro 2: present ]

tag list ; @chenlethelegend​ -@ncitydreamies​- @jammyjamjamss

[njmin]

c-can i have a chenle fic please 🥺 i’m in need of one and his fics are quite rare here :’ perhaps one with the girl being chenle’s friend but haven’t reached out to him in awhile? LOVE YAAAAA ❤️-k

hi lovely! of course you can :’) it’s right here. i originally wanted to make it more fluffy, but it got real angsty somehow so if you want me to do another one, i’d be more than happy to! just lmk hehe. thank you for being my first anon <3 means the world!

[njmin]

despair —zcl

pairing ; bestfriend!idol!chenle x reader

genre ; angst

warnings ; none

author’s note ; i was going for fluff, but idk what happened jafdklf

word count ; 1k

your tiny feet encased by your fading, worn-in ballet slippers pattered softly against the aged, yet polished floorboards. you stood tall, elegant, dignified, just as you were taught; back straight, chin up, you walked through the great, arched hall, your overwhelmingly large book bag over your shoulder filled with scribbled sheets of music you’d been incessantly working on the night before. eyes  heavy, stomach empty, limbs sore, you trudged on. 

this was what you wanted; this was the life you chose.

the other students bustling around you also had made the same commitment. they passed through with their waxed instruments, arms full of chopin, mozart, and debussy.

like you, they avoided all eye contact.

like you, they stood tall, elegant, dignified; not just because they were taught, but because it was a way to disguise their fear.

fear, you had learned, was a vile presence in beijing’s most prestigious music conservatory. day in and day out, it lurked through those halls like a ghost, endlessly tormenting each and every passerby young and old, new and advanced.

they all felt it; you were no exception.

there was only thing that could save you, and as if right on cue, your prayers were answered.

a gentle, angelic melody, soft yet smooth, drifted through the halls, filling your ears with sweet euphony. it was a simple adagio, yet it dissipated every ounce of anxiousness in your body, leaving no room for the fear that gripped your heart.

you blindly take one step after the other, pulled as if in a trance. as if walking on clouds, you allowed the music to guide your movement and soon, you found yourself in a large room, empty except for the mahogany, grand piano and its maestro seated at the center, illuminated by the sunset’s fervent rays glistening through the stained window across from it.

the composer’s back was to you, but that didn’t matter. you already knew who it was. you knew by the first note.

it was a beautiful sight to behold. wanting to capture it forever, you quietly took a picture.

patiently, you waited for the boy at the piano, revelling in the familiar music, eyes closing as you listened to the blended collection of harmonious notes and chords, analyzing every phrase and the story it told. finally ending at a perfect pianissimo, there was silence.

“douze etudes, op. 25: no. 1 in a-flat major,” you murmured knowingly, your eyes fluttering open, “chopin.”

unaware he had an audience of one, your best friend grinned when your hushed voice reached his ears, a sound as melodious as the very instrument he was playing seconds before. chenle stood up from the piano bench, relinquishing his seat for the first time since early that morning, and turned to find your figure standing by the door. he nodded at you proudly.

“someone’s been doing their homework.”

“would you like some tea, y/n?”

mrs. zhong’s question snaps you back into the present, reminding you that you were no longer that same fifteen year old schoolgirl. your eyes glance away from the picture you were staring at, the one you took those many years ago, framed on the wall of the zhong apartment in korea; it was the last picture you ever took of chenle before he left china, left you.

“xie xie, ayi,” you quickly respond, tucked strands of your hair falling from behind your ear, cloaking your face as you bow your head respectfully in her direction, “but i’m okay.”

“y/n--” straightening your back, you meet mrs. zhong’s loving, yet knowing, motherly gaze, “he missed you too.” she pats your flushed cheek affectionately, smiling with crinkled eyes. you enclose your hand over hers, leaning into her touch with a nod you hoped was convincing enough.

“play something for me while we wait for chenle,” she says, slowly making her way into the kitchen, “i’ll make you some tea.”

you knew better than to argue with the woman who treated you as her own daughter. when he left for korea, you continued to visit her. you played her favorite pieces, helped her around the house, and in return, your loving ayi fed you, sent you presents, went to every recital, every performance you ever had, supporting you and loving you unconditionally.

sitting on the piano bench, you adjust yourself, the squeaking of the wood stopping once you center yourself. you run through the same checklist you did at fifteen: tall, elegant, dignified, back straight, chin up. you place your fingers on the smooth, cold keys before beginning to play a soft melody, one you knew well. it was a song you practiced after your best friend left, and one you hadn’t played since.

slow and somber, your fingers gracefully scaled the instrument, knowing exactly where and when to land as if the piece was embedded into your brain, or rather, your heart. you play so passionately, so fervently, that you begin to forget, and years of poise and emotional restraint begin to slip as each note passes. halfway through, tears prick at your eyes, begging to fall, yet you couldn’t quite relinquish it. not yet, not now. you had to reach the ending first.

right before the pads of your fingers can hit the final chord, you hear the sound of the front door opening behind you, a cool breeze entering the dim room, and you freeze.

everything is still.

“four pieces, op. 4 by prokofiev,” he says quietly, voice faltering before he whispers the exact movement you chose out out of the four, “despair.”

you turn, a weak smile on your quivering lips as your eyes finally meet his for the first time in four years, the tears you were holding back now streaming down your cheeks. sniffling, you wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve, a meager chuckle leaving your lips almost pathetically.

“someone’s been doing their homework.”

[njmin]

“ tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much? ”

tagged by my sweet kate; @chenlethelegend !!!

so i’m actually a pretty recent nct stan (it’s been about two months now?) and like i said in my intro, i stumbled upon “the way i hate you”, a mini yt drama, and fell head over heels in love with han daegang (jaemin’s character). i was curious about the actor so i searched him up and found “we go up”, did a liTERAL double take when i realized that jaemin from “the way i hate you” was the same jaemin in the mv, and whew lemme tell y’all. his visuals are insane. and his rapping???? that first verse in “we go up” is really, really insanely catchy, and his part in the second verse with that crazy-ass high kick? yeah. insane.

usually when i get into kpop groups, it’s pretty temporary; i don’t stick around for long. but there was just something about nct, specifically dream, that kept me hooked. sure, they were all crazy good-looking and i could listen to their music for hours, but i think what really hooked me was their personalities and genuinity. what’s so great about dream is that they’re literally family. at young, impressionable ages, they went to school together, trained together, lived together, and you can really see that whenever they’re together. whether it be in a vlive, a performance, a reality show, any time they’re on camera, you can feel the chemistry practically oozing out of their bodies. they’re so comfortable with each other that you become comfortable. i think i’ve watched every single video nct dream is in and from what i can tell, they’re straight-up crackheads. their personalities are not only individually amazing, but they also work really well together. i’m always laughing to the point where i can't breathe which is an oddly nice feeling when stuck in quarantine LOL

honestly, i could write about how much i love nct dream all day, but this is already getting longer than intended HAHA, but thank you kate, i enjoyed this! if anyone wants to ask any questions or just wants to hear me rant about my love for dream or individual members, just shoot me a message :) 

tagging some people i admire since i don't know many people yet haha; @exo-alldayeveryday @luvdsc @asthmarkx2

[neojeno]

my bodyguard ♠️️

[njmin]

[6:32 pm]

“hey babe?” you start, picking up a fry from boyfriend!mark’s plate, “so i was driving past a pet store today and was thinking that, you know, maybe having a couple animals in the dorm would be fun—”

before you could finish your thought, an ear-piercing shriek followed by the sound of a herd of hungry boys stomping, screaming, and laughing startles you. you and mark watch, dumbfounded, as the stampede of dreamies chase each other around the table before exiting just as quickly and as noisily as they came in. the fries heaped on mark’s plate, including the one in your fingers, were gone.

mark blinks once, then twice, his brain attempting to process what, in the span of five seconds, just happened.

“i— nevermind.”