" All the memories got stuck. I'm tired of the past. I want to break away. " - star by colde.
name: yeonjun group: txt age: 25 born 09.13.99 playlist: 7 songs - link to spotify playlist sexual orientation: bi more info of yeonjun listed below

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@ycvnjun
" All the memories got stuck. I'm tired of the past. I want to break away. " - star by colde.
name: yeonjun group: txt age: 25 born 09.13.99 playlist: 7 songs - link to spotify playlist sexual orientation: bi more info of yeonjun listed below
❝ No, I understand that, but if the guide vocal is still changing, then the session time has to⸻No, I'm just saying the second verse can't come in that early because the lyrics' message intent and impact would change... it has nowhere to go, it just⸻ ❞
Static.
Signal lost.
Ugh.
Thin and ugly crackle from a phone call losing its signal between floors, flattening the producer's voice into a broken strip of sound before the line cuts off completely. Silence replacing it with such administrative efficiency, only to be met by a stare off contest at the now darkened screen, such a betrayal to company policy. The elevator lights flickered once, then twice, settling into something dimmer, still functional enough to be annoying.
Reflection against the brushed metal wall looking back in fragments, warped by the narrow seams between panels. One eye. The slope of cheek. The corner of lips held too still. Iced drink in one hand, condensation already gathering despite it being newly acquired, still untainted, cold slipping beneath the curve of her rings. Blazer slightly too warm for the tired ventilation seemingly breathing recycled air from some hidden gap above, white tank top beneath already carrying the faint chill from her beverage, dark denim sitting low at the hips.
Schedule folded somewhere at the back of the mind, a filing cabinet—recording session in forty minutes, guide vocals still raw and unfinished, lyrics still arguing with themselves in her notes app, and now.... this. Eyes lifting at the numbers above the door, frozen and unmoving, pretending not to be involved. Then toward the emergency button that had been already pressed, twice. Then, finally, toward him whose standing near the back wall with one side of the headphones pulled off, irritation tucked like part of his ootd.
❝ Yeah, I was actually thinking this feels strangely targeted... You think this is some kind of a prank? There were literally no maintenance announcements. ❞
Now leaning back carefully against the cold metal, leaving a reasonable distance between her shoulder and the wall, because, again, the idea of relaxing fully in this stalled metallic cube felt like losing an argument to architecture and machinery. Phone stayed in hand, drink in the other. Too composed and too still for someone suddenly aware of how small the space was... How close his voice sounded without the music between them. That's the most unfortunate part, even the jazzy music stopped. Yet, how strange it was being forced into pause beside someone who usually moves through rooms like someone was allergic to being left unread.
❝ Feels like an omen, to be honest. A stupid one. Very low-budget. But unfortunately, I was also just calculating whether I could still make it to recording instead of whether we were going to die in here, so… I guess we’re both messed up. ❞
a laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
"okay, that's actually concerning."
his head tipped back against the wall once more.
"we're stuck in a broken elevator and both of our first thoughts were, 'damn, i'm gonna be late.'"yeonjun shook his head.
"not sure that's a good thing." the irony wasn't lost on him. if anyone had told him to slow down, take a break, stop obsessing over schedules, he probably would've ignored them. still would, honestly. his gaze drifted toward the frozen floor numbers overhead before settling back on yunjin.
"a low-budget omen?" he repeated with a grin. "low-budget cause we're not good enough for the good stuff?" he folded his arms tighter across his chest before glancing at the drink in her hand.
"at least you managed to get a coffee before getting trapped." for the first time since the elevator stopped, some of the tension had started to leave. cause it could be worse. he could be trapped alone for hours. that thought frightened him more than whatever possible omen there could be.
he deepens a sigh in his chest, glaring down at the door like that could cause it to open. "should we set up base?" he asks. he removed his hoodie and placed it on the ground, sitting on it after. finally allowing his legs to rest.
the hallway holds that same flat brightness like it often did. chaewon stands just off to the side, attention fixed on her manager, expression unreadable in the way she’s learned to keep it. ❝i’ll go over it again before rehearsal,❞ she says. then, in the middle of it, something catches her eye. a familiar presence. her gaze doesn’t move at first, doesn’t break from the conversation, but she catches it anyway. him, just at the edge of her vision, standing where he shouldn’t matter and somehow still does.
she doesn’t look, not fully, doesn’t give the moment the weight it’s trying to take. instead, she finishes speaking like nothing’s changed. when the conversation ends, she steps away without pause. no recognition settles in her expression, no hesitation to soften it. just distance, clean and deliberate, as if whatever existed there has already been folded into something smaller, something manageable.
@ycvnjun
yeonjun catches the shift before he actually sees her. maybe it’s instinct at this point, something wired too deep to ignore no matter how much time passes between moments like this. his steps slow for half a second down the hallway, shoulders tense beneath the weight of exhaustion and whatever else still lingers there, unspoken and old. he doesn’t interrupt. doesn’t greet her.
the conversation with her manager keeps moving and he lets it. keeps his expression flat enough, jaw tight as he glances away toward nothing in particular, like the polished floor suddenly deserves his full attention. it should’ve been easy by now, pretending she was just another familiar face in a building full of them. some days it almost is. today isn’t one of those days.
when the conversation ends and she steps away, he finally looks properly. only for a second. brief enough that it could pass as accidental if someone else noticed it. his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek before he exhales quietly through his nose. then, because standing there any longer would make it obvious he’d noticed at all, yeonjun shifts his bag higher onto his shoulder and starts walking again. slower than before, but not slow enough to call attention to it.
he takes a few steps, accidentally missing one and it causes him to bump into her. "sorry" he mumbles.
the bar was loud in the way only seoul nightlife could be. music low enough for conversation, lights dim enough for privacy, and crowded almost entirely with people who understood the unspoken rule of pretending not to notice celebrities trying to act normal for a few hours. it was one of the few places idols could come without worrying about cameras shoved in their faces every five seconds.
which was exactly why yeonjun came here. his drink sits untouched near his hand while he leans back into the booth, exhaustion settled deep in his shoulders beneath the leather jacket thrown lazily over dark clothes. the week had been long. rehearsals longer. and even now, with the schedules technically over for the night, his mind still refuses to quiet down.
notifications light up his phone screen one after another. he ignores every single one. instead, he drags his thumb absently along the side of his glass, gaze fixed somewhere past the crowd without really looking at anyone. he should probably leave soon, but there’s always this strange restlessness after packed schedules and public appearances. like his body forgets how to come down from performing once it’s over.
yeonjun reaches for his drink again before something makes him stop. his eyes lift. mingi. of fucking course. for half a second, yeonjun genuinely considers getting up and walking out before either of them has to deal with this. it would be easier that way. cleaner. no chance of old arguments dragging themselves back up to the surface where they didn’t belong. but he’s already looked up.
already noticed him. and pretending otherwise now would feel more awkward than the alternative. his jaw shifts faintly before he leans back into the booth again, expression unreadable save for the slight tension resting behind it.
“didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” his voice calm. like there wasn’t years of unresolved shit sitting quietly between them.
@songballs
the place wasn't particularly exclusive. it was just one of those spots that idols ended up gravitating toward whenever schedules allowed for a rare night of freedom. tucked away enough from the public eye to feel normal, familiar enough that nobody looked twice when a recognizable face walked through the door. yeonjun had only planned on staying long enough to finish his drink.
that plan had come and gone nearly thirty minutes ago. his attention drifted lazily around the room from where he'd claimed a seat near the bar, shoulders relaxed in a way they rarely were these days, and then a familiar face caught his attention. his brow lifted slightly before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. well. that was unexpected.
pushing himself away from the counter, he made his way over, hands tucked comfortably into his pockets.
"look at that." there was amusement in his voice. "either seoul's way smaller than i thought or you're following me." the joke came naturally. so did the smile that followed. he stopped a comfortable distance away, tilting his head slightly. "didn't know you'd be here. guess i'm not complaining, though." @yehxshaa
yeonjun was in the ateez dorm waiting for wooyoung to hangout. except, he wan't there. "back in twenty minutes," was what he'd texted nearly forty-five minutes ago. liar. yeonjun sat slouched into the corner of the couch, one arm stretched across the back cushion while his phone rested loosely in his hand. he'd already scrolled through every app worth opening twice. checked his messages three times. considered leaving at least four.
instead, he stayed. mostly because he'd already made the trip. mostly because if he left now, wooyoung would inevitably show up five minutes later and spend the next month acting offended about it. a quiet sigh escaped him as he tipped his head back against the couch. his gaze drifted toward the kitchen before settling elsewhere around the apartment.
"if he says twenty minutes one more time, i'm blocking his number." he mumbles the threat knowing he'd never pull the trigger if it came to that. he released another sigh when he spots a familiar shadow in the corner of his eye. seonghwa? perhaps? "i'm not stealing anything. i'm waiting for your child who has no concept of time."
@star-hwaa
the day had already been irritating before the elevator decided to make it worse. yeonjun stood near the back wall, one hand hooked around the strap of his bag while he stared at the steadily climbing numbers above the door. he'd been at the company since before sunrise, running on little more than caffeine and whatever stubbornness kept him moving these days. another meeting. another rehearsal. another round of people expecting perfection from him like it was something he could pull from thin air.
his headphones sat over his ears, music low enough to keep him focused but loud enough to discourage conversation. not that he'd been looking for any. he'd noticed yunjin when she'd stepped into the elevator a few floors earlier. acknowledged her with a brief nod, nothing more. usually he'd have said something, thrown out a joke, maybe found some excuse to tease her for a minute or two.
today, though, his attention had been fixed on where he needed to be next and how little time he had to get there. the elevator slowed before the song could finish. that was quick, he thought. as he expected the elevator ride to last a little longer. a confused look crossed his face as the elevator slowed, then stopped, and for a second, he thought they reached another floor, then the lights flickered.
"you've gotta be kidding me." a sharp sigh left him as he pulled one side of his headphones off and pressed the emergency button once. twice. then leaned his head back against the wall when nothing responded.
"great." his gaze drifted toward yunjin. the only other person trapped with him. one corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself.
"out of everyone in the building, it had to be us, huh?" he shifted his weight, folding his arms across his chest.
another minute passed. nothing. the elevator remained stubbornly still. yeonjun let out a low groan. "you know what's really messed up?" he asked, glancing toward her again. "i think i'm more annoyed about being late to my next schedule than the possibility of being trapped in here. that's probably a bad sign."
@lejenaissante
yeonjun ♡ stick with you
Yeonjun practicing Nonstop
Jongin chuckles as he moves to stand in place, looking at Yeonjun for a moment. The contrast between them, one looking more tired than the other, is slightly amusing but Jongin nods his head once, "okay. I won't."
As if on cue, the music starts. A song that Jongin hasn't heard in a long time, one that brings back his early years, a reminder to himself about his growth as a dancer. A ballerino turned into an idol simply because he wanted an Nintendo — he's come a long way but it's always good to go back to your youth.
"Do you know this one?" He smirks, not cocky but more playful, testing, wondering how quickly Yeonjun would adapt to the beat. He lets the music play for a bit, head bopping in time, body moving with each beat before he starts with a little bit of the practiced choreography to see if the other will join in or do his own thing.
yeonjun’s head tilted slightly as the music filled the room, something flickering across his face,recognition, maybe, or just instinct kicking in. his eyes followed jongin for a beat, watching the way he moved, before a quiet hum left his lips.
"yeah, i know it," he said, voice low, almost amused, like he hadn’t expected this song of all things.
he rolled his shoulders once more, letting the rhythm settle into his bones, then stepped in without hesitation. his movements came a half-beat later at first, testing, feeling it out before smoothing into something sharper, more deliberate. not a mirror, not quite his own either… somewhere in between, like he was meeting jongin halfway. his gaze flicked over, a small, competitive grin tugging at his lips. "nailed it" he mumbles under his breath, more to himself instead of his senior.
There's a laugh that escapes Jongin, eyes glinting with mischief at the comment from Yeonjun. It is true, the fact that while he may not be as deeply involved with things as he was prior to his enlistment, Jongin has kept on top of his game — however, he's going to openly admit that.
Beginning to stretch, he hums, noticing Yeonjun has moved towards the mirror. A smile plays on his lips, as if he knows the itch to keep going when it comes to the competition of dancing with another person. Working off each other, learning, mirroring, following the other and pushing yourself to be sharper, smoother, better. It's one of the reasons why Jongin could never give it up.
"Maybe." He says, nonchalantly, as he rolls out his shoulders, "I've seen your moves. You have passion. Fire."
yeonjun let out a quiet scoff, though the corner of his mouth lifted at the compliment, eyes flicking toward jongin through the mirror. he rolled his shoulders once, like he was shaking off the last of his hesitation. "passion and fire, huh?" he echoed, tone light but edged with something more competitive now. "coming from you, i’ll take that."
he stepped back into place, feet settling instinctively like muscle memory had already decided for him. his gaze lingered for a second, sharp, focused. "but don’t go easy on me just because i look tired," he added, a small, crooked grin slipping through. "i’d hate to disappoint you."
Waving his hand dismissively, "it's no problem. You're welcome to stay, dancing is always more fun with two people, right?" He grins as he fully enters the room and places his duffel bag on the table, pulling out his water bottle and a towel.
The question has the older man chuckling, shaking his head, "personal. It's been a while since I worked on something for the fun of it and I feel like I've been getting a little rusty." Jongin looks over at Yeonjun, a friendly, naturally teasing smile on his lips, "have to keep up with the new generation of dancers somehow."
Jongin isn't worried about someone stealing his crown, he knew the day would come, but that doesn't mean he'd let them take it easily. The man isn't out of the game yet.
yeonjun let out a quiet huff of a laugh, shoulders loosening a bit as he shifted his weight, water bottle still in hand. "careful, you might regret saying that," he teased, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
he watched jongin for a second, eyes flicking over him like he was already sizing up the idea, then shook his head lightly. "rusty? yeah, i don’t believe that for a second," he added, tone easy but certain.
his grin sharpened just a touch, something more playful settling in despite the leftover fatigue. "and new generation?" he echoed, stepping back toward the mirror like he was reconsidering leaving. "you wouldn't be talking about me, right?" @zkai-dlin
── 「 ✦ STARTER ✦ 」 for @ycvnjun
Usually Jongin would dance in one of the company's practice rooms but whenever it came to personal sessions, he found that he preferred going to a private studio that one of the choreographer's ran. It meant more privacy and more time to do whatever he wanted — rather than needing to give it up for a group preparing for a comeback. Placing the key into the door, Jongin was surprised when he found someone else already using the space. "Ah— Sorry, I must have gotten the time wrong." He bows his head slightly before pulling out his phone. No, he was right on time. Surprisingly. "Will you be finishing up soon?"
yeonjun blinked at the voice, breath still uneven as he turned from the mirror, hair sticking slightly to his forehead. he studied jongin for a second before a small, tired smile pulled at his lips. "nah, you’re good," he said, voice a little rough, grabbing his water bottle. "didn’t realize i took someone’s slot."
he glanced around, then shrugged, already reaching for his things. "i was just finishing up anyway. you can have it." his gaze flicked back, a hint of curiosity slipping through. "solo practice this late?"
beomgyu practically vibrated on the balls of his feet, hands fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie as his eyes darted between yeonjun and the cream puffs like a predator sizing up prey. "grown adult?" he echoed, voice pitched like he’d just been personally insulted, though the grin tugging at his lips said otherwise. "i prefer enthusiastic dessert enthusiast, thank you very much."
he leaned forward over the counter, fingers twitching as if to snatch a pastry before yeonjun could change his mind. "persistent? me? never!" he said, too quickly, the lie obvious in his wide eyes and bouncing knees. "i’m just extremely dedicated to cream puff distribution research. yeah, research."
beomgyu’s grin widened, teeth flashing as he half-lunged toward the box, then froze with mock hesitation, letting the suspense stretch like a game. "so, you might let me have one?" he asked, voice dipping into exaggerated awe. "wow. what an honor. i’ll cherish it forever. probably eat it in three seconds flat, but still… cherish it."
his leg bounced uncontrollably, hoodie strings twisting around his fingers as he added under his breath, "don’t make it too easy on me though, yeonjunnie hyung. i like the chase."
yeonjun snorted, leaning harder against the counter, the box of cream puffs still safely in his grasp. "enthusiastic dessert enthusiast?" he repeats with a smirk, watching beomgyu’s fidgeting with an expression halfway between amusement and disbelief. his grin tilted, sharp but affectionate. "come on, hurry up. some of us have real adult lives now, you know, wives waiting at home, warm dinner, the whole domestic dream." he sighed dramatically, clutching the pastry box to his chest like a sitcom husband. "can’t have her thinking i got held hostage by a sugar-obsessed manchild again."
when beomgyu pouted, yeonjun only smirked wider, lowering the box just enough to dangle the offer in front of him. "what? don’t give me that look. you think marriage erased my ability to say no to you?" his voice softened on the edges, teasing but warm.
he finally nudged the box closer, eyes crinkling. "so make it quick before i change my mind, yeah?"
"Mr. Puff" Mingyu said again, grinning so wide his shoulders shook as he laughed at his own joke. "Like Mrs. Puff from Spongebob. No?" He gave himself one last chuckle before looking back down at the box. "But yeah… I’m not just hoarding these for myself. I’ll probably end up giving them to Yeosang." He rubbed the back of his neck with a small shrug, casual but honest. "Unless, you know, one of the guys catches me on the way back and decides dessert should be a group project. Then he’s out of luck." His smile curved softer, less teasing this time. "Guess I’ll just have to grab a second box if that happens." He tipped his chin toward Yeonjun, eyes flicking over the rows of sweets. "Since you’re already here, though… got any pro recommendations? Might as well take advantage of your pastry expertise."
yeonjun’s laugh came out quiet but genuine, the kind that tugged at the corners of his mouth even as he tried to play it off. "wow, you’ve really outdone yourself with that one," he said, shaking his head. “mr. puff. i’m honored. really. next time, i’ll make sure to wear something more nautical for the full effect." his tone softened as his gaze drifted to the box in mingyu’s hand, one brow raising in amusement. "yeosang, huh? it's a good choice. seems like we're both here for love." yeonjun's smile comes through even when he briefly mentions yuna. he reached for another cream puff, eyes scanning the display with practiced ease.
"if you’re going for crowd control," he said, tapping lightly against the glass case, "these strawberry ones are the safest bet. you’ll get at least five minutes of peace before someone starts fighting over them." he glanced back at mingyu, smirk tugging slow at his lips. "and if all else fails, just say yeonjun recommended them. my name still carries some weight in the dessert world."