Stray Kids Han - Blog Posts

Curious little thing, aren't you?

Skz: 3RACHA

Vocalracha - Danceracha

Summary: Their unique abilities and how they affect people around them.

Bang Chan: Pain Transfer

Chan would have a natural instinct to others emotions, especially his members. So when he finds that he can relieve them of their inner turmoil and doubts, even if it's temporary, he makes it his main mission.

All he needs is the slightest touch to see if someone was in pain, whether it be mental or physical. To take it from them though? He needs to be holding on longer.

On a daily basis without the members realizing, he checks in with them, brushing his fingers against his own or just plain out hugging them from behind.

He needs to know that they are at peace to be their best selves and idols.

He's constantly helping Han, due to his anxiety. And although it's released to him, he knows how to keep it under wraps.

Changbin: Light Absorption

We all know that Changbin gets embarrassed easily and turns red on a daily basis, right?

But what if he didn't turn red?

What if his skin cells absorbed the surrounding light, inflating like fire flies, making his skin glow so bright it would be difficult to look directly at him?

When he'd get embarrassed, he'd look away with his down turned smile and shine brighter than the sun.

It would happen more often than not, and because his cells would have the affinity to absorb light anyway, he would always shine slightly.

He would look even more breath taking on camera, his skin appearing whiter than it should be.

Han: Fruit eyes and Glowing Tattoos

Han is a natural enigma. He could be all over the place, and then nowhere at once. It was a skill.

When he got his tattoos, they were normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But one day, he woke up, and his vision stung, eyes watering with a citrussy scent lingering in the air.

He rushed to the sink, the blurred reflection stared back, except something was different.

Parts of his body were glowing orange.

More specifically, where his tattoos were.

He used water to flush his eyes, only to be met with orange yet again. Except... Oranges?

Why were there fruit in his eyes?

He touched them as he would for contacts, and the surface still felt like an eye should, but he wasn't wearing contacts.

What was going on?

He went to Chan, and he could feel the youngers distress. He reassured him that it was okay, that none of the members would be bothered or judge him.

From them on, he was orange quokka.

What’s Your Secret?

Synopsis:

You were at the fair and saw a fortune telling booth. You didn't expect the teller to be so handsome.

Warnings:

Fluff, comedy, fortune telling, language, DRABBLE

You didn't expect to go home with a man tonight. Especially not one as fine as this.

You found him on the fair grounds in his cousins booth. A fortune Telling booth, more specifically.

You had arrived at the fair alone, being stood up by your friends yet again. You were starting to think you should find other people to hang out with.

The booth itself was underneath a tent, one that would remind you of a circus if it weren't covered in fairy lights.

You gently pulled back the lip of the tent, and was surprised to see how well lit it was in here.

It was mostly candles, but compared to the night sky outside, it was a gorgeous contrast.

Insensce burned, the smell of lavender and citrus surrounding you as you made your way to an empty table.

It was covered it a glittery purple cloth, smooth to the touch. It almost sounded like a cliche. Tarot cards and gemstones lined the table in a methodical placement.

You sat down on the worn cushion.

"So, what can we do you for today?"

The voice was obviously not a woman's, which is what you were expecting. When you heard the fabric fall back onto the ground, you saw the figure circle around the table to sit in front of you.

And my god.

He was total eye candy.

He was about your age, and had brown hair with honey skin. His eyes the same as a piece of boba.

"I'm sorry?" You said stupidly, forgetting what this tent was.

He smiled.

"You want your fortune told? You came to the right place...I think? I don't know, my aunt's on break and told me to take over for a few," He grinned, playing with the stones on the table.

You smiled at his honesty.

"So you can read my fortune, or not?" You tease, tilting your head.

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I may not be a pro, but I could tell a pretty girl like you shouldn't be here alone without her partner. Not at night,"

Your gaze softened, making his own falter.

"I don't have a partner. No friends either. That's why I'm here. I want to see if it'll always be that way," your shrugged your shoulders, watching his fingers flip through the tarot cards after your done.

"Well, I'll give you a free reading," he spoke, sticking out his tongue. It almost looked like he was looking for a specific card.

You waited patiently, watching his face shift from focus to excitement.

"Okay! Now, pick a card!" You went to do as he said, but found that there was only one card in front of you.

You glanced up to see his cheeks flushed, a hopeful look on his face.

"Okay,"

You grabbed it, and he motioned for you to flip it over.

Lovers

Your eyes widen, and your breath seems to get caught in your lungs.

You look back to him.

"I take it back. I'm a total pro," He laughs, putting the card back onto the pile.

"Whats your name?" You ask.

"Han," At this point, he stood and walked over to you, holding out his palm for you to grab.

"And you are?"

"Y/n," you answer, grabbing his hand.

He pulled you up, asking, "Wanna go get a donut burger and then ride the ferris wheel?" He grinned.

"Yes!"

You both giggle, rushing out of the tent passed the people in line for the service he was no longer providing.

Tonight was going to be the best night you had in a while.

Poor Seungmin

Synopsis:

Seungmin was a hybrid without hybrid features. No tail, no ears. Nothing. But he was still considered one. He thought that he wouldn't fall into a rut, but he was wrong. So his bandmates take upon themselves to help the poor pup when it comes.

Warnings:

Smut, mxm, threesomes, blow jobs, dry humping, kissing, drool, angst, fluff, penetration, collar and leash, fake ears, spit, hair pulling, etc

MDNI

Bangchan x Seungmin

Jeongin x Seungmin x Felix

Han x Seungmin

xxx?

xxx?

xxx?

xxx?

Tag list: @xxeiraxx @rhonnie23 @skzlover24 @tenshimara

Notes:

glad to finally start with this series. Its been on my mind for months! Hope you all enjoy, and if you have any ideas on the connecting parts, lmk!!

Warning:

Language, smut mentioned, fluff

You sighed as you walked to your local GameStop. It had just been too long since you've had a real connection, and you were desperate for anything.

Your friend who worked there had told you that they had a game donated that resembled a dating simulator, and that she set it aside for you. She did it mostly to tease you, but honestly, you really needed this.

You didn't know if it was truly a dating game or not, but you couldn't care less at the moment.

You came in, grabbed it, and paid.

You rushed home after stopping for lunch, starting your PC. You let it warm up while you showered and changed into your lounge clothes, rubbing your temples at the bright light in the dark room.

Your computer ate the disc, accepting it just as well as you did. The loading screen appeared, and you watched the sphere spin.

It seemed to last hours before you finally heard a ping.

It's done loading!

You quickly clicked the icon, watching the screen fall black before switching to a pale blue.

As it drifted to the logo,you noticed how it looked extremely pixelated but in a 90's Mario game way.

The title read, 'Stray Kids: Together'

Some clouds jumped in the background, the Play and Settings buttons appearing after a few seconds.

You admired the pastel aesthetic before moving your cursor to click on Play.

Gently clicking on your mouse, it sent you to yet another clouded screen with a small sunset.

Logs set 1

>Bangchan Last opened ?

>Lee Know Last opened ?

>Changbin Last opened ?

>Hyunjin Last opened ?

What type of names are these? You thought.

You noticed that each one didn't have a date log, so you were unsure if they were even opened yet.

Curious, you clicked the first name.

Then, your computer crashed.

You scoffed, cursing the damn old seeming cartridge. The pixels in the opening screen made it seem like it was made in the 90's, but the labeling date was scratched off so you didn't really know.

You were about to shut off your computer before the screen boosted, a light gray flickering against the screen.

You weren't sure what was happening before you saw the command,

Allow microphone access?

> Yes No

You clicked yes.

Allow camera access?

> Yes No

You clicked yes again, and that was when you heard a click, and then the spinning of a disc.

"Hello?"

You heard a voice from nowhere. You bristled, turning around to look in your room. Was someone here?

"Over here,"

Your head whipped back to the screen, only to be met with the most prettiest guy you had ever seen.

"Woah," you mumbled.

He grinned.

"What's your name?" He asked again. Did he have an accent?

"Y/n. You're...Bangchan?" You ask, pulling your chair closer to the desk.

"Your a quick learner,"

You blinked. What now?

"So...are you like an AI? Or, like, how are you speaking to me?" You question, resting your arm on your hand.

His eyes widen. "Uhh, I'm not actually sure. Honestly, I feel real, but I'm not? I don't know if that helps?" He cleared his throat. "But what I do know is that you need someone. You wouldn't be here otherwise,"

"How would you know that?" You jolt. He was spot on.

"I know what I was created for. We all do,"

Wait what?

"Who's we?"

He smiled, his eyes turning into crescents. So beautiful

"You saw the other names, right? There are more of us...more of me," He explained slowly. "Here I was thinking you were a quick learner,"

"Hey!" You both laughed at his comment, then you sighed.

"So, are you all the same? Just look different? What's the deal?"

He spinned, the back of his neck revealing a code. CB97

"No, we are all incredibly different. We couldn't be the same even if we wanted. Different code. I'm the first, so they consider me like...a big brother? We all serve different purposes for whatever you need," he scratched his head, and his hair moved so smoothly.

It was then that you realized that the screen was no longer pixelated like the opening screen, it was now hd, smooth. You could almost see his pores.

"Different purposes? What the hell does that mean, Chan?" You let it slide past, not realizing.

"Chan?" His eyes glistened. "I like it," he grinned, watching your face heat up.

"Purposes Chan," you remind quietly, twirling a piece of your hair.

"Right. Well me, I'm a comforter. I help you when your stressed. Lee know? He's kinda...sexual? He can help with those needs, but he can comfort too. Uhh Changbin, he's more of an amuser. Hyunjin, a relaxer and comforter. Han? He can do literally everything. He's the ace of the group. Felix, comfort. Seungmin? Amuser and sexual. Jeongin, all. You know?"

It was a lot to take In. You didn't even know what half of this meant. At least not yet.

"So if I were horny-" he cut you off.

"Han, Lee Know, Seungmin or Jeongin are your guys." He said, his eyes staring into your own.

You felt yourself flush.

"Are they all as pretty as you?" You whisper, making his face freeze.

"Uh, they are, if not prettier, y/n," he gently smiles, placing his hand flat against the screen.

"You couldn't help me?" You brought your own palm to rest against his, only to be met with a cold surface.

"I wasn't given that programming. If you need help, just log out and meet with one of the others," he explained, his eyes tracing your hand, almost as if to memorize it.

"Oh," was all you could say. "I'm okay, for now," you say with a cheeky smile, making him chuckle.

"Good to hear. You tired yet? It's dark," he asked, making you blink. You turned to look out your window.

Holy shit, it's dark!

"Oh my god i work tomorrow!" You curse yourself, jumping up from your chair.

You heard Chan laughing in the background.

"Can I jump on tomorrow?" You asked him after cleaning up a bit.

"You don't need to ask, y/n. We're yours!" He gleemed, his eyes shimmering in the light.

"Mine..." You repeat. You never really thought if it that way.

"Yes, y/n. Completely and utterly yours. I'm sure the rest will fall for you just as I did," he said.

You looked at him.

"How does a computer fall for me?" You were baffled at this point. What did he mean?

"This computer was coded with feelings," he grinned. "Goodnight, y/n!"

You didn't get to respond before he disappeared.

You were kicked to the opening screen, the pixelated clouds taunted you as they jumped up and down.

You absolutely felt so lucky to have found this game.

Connection found. Now you just need to pursue all eight men.

Tag list: @estella-novella @deadpool15

Hannies Smile ✨

I'm glad to be included 🤎

1. Heyday by SKZ

2. Desire by Meg Myers

3. Heartbeat by 2pm

4. Darkness at the Heart of my Love by GHOST

5. Runway walk by demrick

Tags: @faunandfloraas @puppyplayhouse @bbokicidal @leenooooooo @writingforstraykids

rules :: when you get this, list 5 songs you’ve been listening to & tag people!

one take me home, ateez

two burning desire, lana del ray

three woke up, xg

four andromeda, gorillaz

five mmmh, kai

tags: @mingtinysworld | @hwakakeri | @songmingisthighs | @xuchiya // tagged whoever came to mind first sorry idk many people here .. 🫠 (not compulsory ofc ^^)

⨳ ❛𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

❛ In which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ) 3.1k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression, reader has fibromyalgia, constant mentions of being in pain, love-making, cussing, lots of angst, MDNI.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

⌗ O3┆ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞?

The following morning unfolded with an insistent chime of the doorbell that reverberated through the house, slicing through the tranquility of your sleep. Jolted awake, you wrestled with the disorienting shift from dreams to reality. Fragments of the previous day returned to you—the memory of your mother’s promise to fetch groceries and the knowledge that your father would be off to his shop in the morning. Reluctantly, you peeled yourself from the bed, draping a red, silky robe over your shoulders. The robe, soft and flowing, brushed against your ankles, offering a fleeting semblance of grace to your disheveled appearance. With a cursory glance at your reflection in the mirror, you did your best to present yourself with a semblance of poise before making your way down the old, creaking stairs.

Sleep had been elusive, marked by a restless night of shifting and turning as you sought comfort, each movement accompanied by sharp reminders of your physical discomfort. Now, each step down the stairs seemed to echo with the protest of your aching knees, their cries a testament to the night’s toll.

Peering through the peephole of the front door, you were met with an unexpected sight—Han Jisung, standing on your doorstep, his figure framed by the soft morning light. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if this was yet another of your mother’s elaborate schemes to meddle in your personal life. With a tentative hand, you unlatched the door.

Jisung’s face, flushed with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness, stood out against the serene morning backdrop. “I’m so sorry to intrude,” he stammered, his voice stumbling over his words in a cascade of apologies. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I—I just…”

“It’s alright,” you interjected gently, your voice carrying a trace of lingering sleep. “What brings you here?”

Jisung took a deep breath, visibly struggling to regain his composure. “I got your address from my mother. You left your cane at the café, and I wanted to return it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a blend of mortification and unease swirling within you. The thought of Jisung possessing this personal detail about you was unsettling. Driven by a sudden impulse to manage the situation and avoid any potential awkwardness, you offered a hesitant invitation. “Would you like to come in for a moment?” you asked, your voice blending politeness with a hint of curiosity.

Jisung’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly as he stepped inside, though his nervousness was palpable. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, his movements reminiscent of a kitten exploring an unfamiliar room. “Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes darting around the space with evident unease.

As you guided him to the living room, you couldn’t help but notice his discomfort. “You seem a bit on edge,” you remarked with a gentle smile. “Is everything alright?”

Jisung forced a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed with a delicate pink. “I didn’t anticipate that this morning visit would be so… nerve-wracking. I hope I didn’t disrupt anything important.”

“No, not at all,” you reassured him, striving to ease the tension. “I was just trying to catch up on some rest. You’re actually a welcome distraction.”

The two of you settled into the living room, Jisung clutching the cane with a mixture of relief and awkwardness. “I’m glad I could return this,” he said, his voice still tinged with nervousness. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be alright with me dropping by like this.”

Your gaze softened as you observed his discomfort, recognizing his sincere effort to make amends. “It’s very kind of you to come all this way,” you said warmly. “And don’t worry, I genuinely appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

In the quiet cocoon of the room, the earlier tension began to dissolve like mist in the morning sun. The weight of Jisung’s knowledge about your condition still fluttered anxiously in your chest, but the simple kindness he had extended offered a comforting balm. The unease that had colored the morning started to shift, giving way to a tentative warmth born from shared understanding.

“Would you like some tea?” you asked softly, your voice a gentle ripple in the stillness. You hoped the invitation would offer a welcome distraction, a brief escape from the lingering tension. “My mother’s garden is home to a rich variety of herbs,” you continued, your tone warm and inviting. “While I usually lean toward peppermint for its refreshing kick, today I’d recommend lavender. It’s incredibly soothing.” You met his gaze with a tender empathy, acknowledging the anxiety that seemed to cling to him without forcing the issue.

Jisung’s relief was almost palpable, his posture visibly relaxing as he gave a grateful nod. He watched as you moved with a graceful purpose into the kitchen, each step seeming fluid and deliberate.

The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of morning light, embraced a serene quiet. Jisung’s eyes followed your every motion with a quiet reverence, taking in the delicate care you employed with each action. Despite your practiced ease, the teapot felt unusually heavy today, a subtle reminder of the burdens you carried.

Once the tea was steeped and ready, you both retreated to the dining room in contemplative silence. The soft breathing coming from the two of you were the only sounds until you broke the quiet with a hesitant question.

“So, um, you found my cane?” you asked, trying to sound casual while a trace of nervousness lingered in the air.

“Oh! Yes,” Jisung responded quickly, his voice laced with relief. “Don’t worry. I told my mother you’d left a hat. I won’t say a word about it.”

Your eyes widened in genuine surprise, a wave of gratitude washing over you. “Oh, that’s incredibly thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Jisung replied, his voice sincere yet tinged with lingering nervousness.

An awkward silence fell over you both, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. You cleared your throat, the words spilling out before you could fully gather your composure. “I, um, have this condition—”

Jisung’s gaze met yours with a depth of understanding, his voice gentle and reassuring. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel pressured. But if you do want to share, I’m here to listen.”

His sincerity cut through the tension, lifting a weight from your shoulders. The room, once heavy with discomfort, began to fill with a budding sense of connection. As you both patiently awaited your warm drinks, the silence transformed from awkwardness into a shared, comforting presence, bridging the gap between two souls navigating their way toward understanding.

The quiet between you was dense and contemplative. You hesitated, grappling with whether to reveal more of your story. Turning to face him, your eyes swept the room, which seemed to echo your solitude. The kettle’s gentle simmer served as a backdrop to the turmoil inside you.

“I have fibromyalgia,” you began slowly, your voice tinged with a quiet sadness. “It’s a rare condition, and many doctors are skeptical about its validity.”

Jisung’s eyes widened, curiosity and concern mingling in his gaze. “What is fibro… um…”

“Fibromyalgia,” you corrected softly, a faint chuckle escaping your lips. “It’s a chronic condition that causes widespread pain, fatigue, and tenderness in the muscles, ligaments, and tendons. It’s like a constant ache that shifts and varies.”

Jisung’s gaze was fixed on you, his round eyes absorbing each word with a mix of concern and fascination. “Is that why you use a cane?”

“Yes,” you confirmed with a nod. “I use it when the pain becomes too intense to manage. Since the pain levels fluctuate, I don’t always need it, but on those tough days, it helps me get by.”

A flicker of recognition crossed Jisung’s face. “I remember seeing you in one of your early music videos with a cane. I thought it was part of the styling.”

Your heart warmed at his recollection. “Yes, that’s right. The pain was quite severe that day, so I requested a cane for practical reasons. It ended up adding a touch of flair to the performance, though.”

Jisung’s expression grew thoughtful. “Why didn’t you ask to postpone the filming then?”

You sighed softly, a hint of frustration in your voice. “If I postponed every time I was in pain, I’d have been fired a long time ago. I’ve had to find a way to work through it, making subtle adjustments to manage the discomfort while still meeting my obligations.”

The kettle’s whistle interrupted the moment, and you moved to pour the steaming water into two mugs, infusing them with fragrant herbs. You then arrange a tray with the mugs and a box of cookies before gesturing to Jisung. “Would you be a dear and carry this? We’re going to my mother’s garden.”

Jisung sprang up with an eagerness that made you smile, carrying the tray outside as you led the way. You settled onto the swinging bench, your posture relaxed, and motioned for him to place the tray on a small table positioned in front of you both. He complied and took a seat beside you.

The garden, bathed in the gentle light of day, looked like a dreamscape. Wildflowers swayed gracefully with the breeze, their vibrant colors dancing under the sun’s tender caress. The sunlight bestowed its golden warmth, creating a serene glow that kissed Jisung’s tanned skin, enhancing his natural radiance. As he sipped his tea, a contented sigh escaped him, his entire being seeming to relax with the soothing warmth of the beverage. His curly hair was styled with effortless charm, a few strands framing his face, and his wire glasses added a touch of sophistication. Your gaze lingered on him, admiring the simple beauty of the moment, before you quickly turned away, your heart fluttering with a contented sigh.

The silence between you was soothing, a balm to your often tumultuous thoughts. Even in his moments of struggle, Jisung’s presence provided a tranquil comfort. His voice, when it emerged, was a soft murmur that didn’t disrupt the peace you shared.

“Your mother’s garden is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen,” he said, his words blending seamlessly into the calm.

A genuine smile, rare and bright, curved your lips. “Thank you,” you replied warmly. “She always dreamed of having a garden where she could truly breathe. I’m glad she finally made it a reality.”

Jisung’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he smiled at you with such sincerity that it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m happy she did too,” he said quietly.

The simplicity of his words, coupled with the tranquility of the garden, created a moment of pure connection. For a fleeting instant, the weight of your loneliness seemed to lift, replaced by the gentle warmth of shared understanding and companionship.

“What helps you breathe, Jisung?” The question emerged from your lips with a startling clarity, and you winced inwardly at your own audacity. Jisung’s reaction was immediate—his grip on the mug faltered, and a soft, surprised chuckle escaped him, his ears flushing a delicate shade of pink.

“The way this garden helps your mother breathe, you mean?” he ventured, his voice carrying a note of gentle curiosity.

“Yes,” you responded, your tone warm and inviting. “If you’re comfortable sharing.”

Jisung’s gaze drifted back to the garden, his expression thoughtful. “Would it be cliché if I said it’s writing?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not at all, but I’d love to hear more.”

He considered his words carefully, his eyes tracing the dance of sunlight on the garden's blossoms. “When I write my songs, it’s like every fleeting thought in my mind is an inhale. When I finally commit those thoughts to paper and understand them, it’s an exhale. So I breathe to write and write to breathe.”

His words wove through you like a soft, comforting breeze, filling your being with a profound sense of being understood. A gentle warmth crept across your cheeks, and you found yourself captivated by the profile of his face. You were torn between relief that he couldn’t see the impact of his words and a desire to fully decipher his expression.

“So you understand,” you murmured, your voice blending with the garden’s serene ambiance.

Jisung turned slowly toward you, his eyes wide with a blend of curiosity and empathy. “How so?”

“Many people underestimate the power of words,” you began, your voice heavy with emotion. “They torment minds like ours until they’re released into the world, our innermost thoughts inked onto paper. Words can be both a curse and a salvation, filled with wonder and horror alike, and they help me breathe as well.”

“Exactly,” Jisung agreed, his voice rich with understanding. “That’s precisely how it feels.”

A bittersweet smile touched your lips as you returned your gaze to the garden, where the flowers swayed gently in the breeze. The tranquility of the scene seemed to mirror the quiet connection forming between you.

“My mother never truly appreciated the written word,” you confessed, your tone tinged with melancholy. “She finds solace in visual beauty and scents—like this garden. She never understood why I’d retreat into my room for hours, enveloped in a world of words.”

You paused, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “My father, on the other hand, loved music and, by extension, words. Though he never wrote or read, I grew up waking to his morning serenades, each one a unique tribute to my mother while she prepared his lunch before he went to work. He never sang the same song twice, at least not that I can remember. Yet, he always expressed his love for her with the most beautiful, spontaneous words that even I could never have imagined.”

“That’s what helps them breathe,” Jisung said softly, his gaze filled with a tender admiration that seemed to caress your skin. His understanding made you acutely aware of how deeply you had opened up. “Your parents’ love sounds truly beautiful.”

You nodded, a genuine smile gracing your lips. The love your parents shared was indeed a rare and precious thing—a once-in-a-lifetime bond that you could only dream of experiencing for yourself. Despite any imperfections in your relationship with them, it remained an enduring truth.

As you prepared to respond further, the sudden, sharp creak of the front door echoed through the stillness, shattering the fragile peace. Jisung jumped to his feet, the serene atmosphere you had cultivated now disrupted. You remained seated, a pang of disappointment settling within you as the moment you had cherished began to slip away.

“Y/N, do you not answer your phone? I’ve called you several times to help me bring in the groceries!” Your mother’s voice cut through the quiet as she struggled with several bags, their handles digging into her forearms before she dropped them with a huff by the kitchen entrance. You sighed, rising slowly from your seat and making your way into the house, Jisung trailing behind you nervously, the tray in his hands trembling slightly.

The moment your mother caught sight of him, her eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth fell open in a comical gasp. You remained stoically at the threshold, stepping aside to allow her a clearer view of Jisung. He bowed deeply, his cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red.

“Hello, Mrs. L/N,” he began, his voice tinged with a polite nervousness. “I apologize for showing up unannounced.”

The transformation in your mother’s expression was instantaneous. Her face broke into a beaming smile, and you could feel the familiar sense of dread settle over you. You could already anticipate the endless barrage of questions and well-meaning commentary that was sure to follow once Jisung left.

“Nonsense,” she said, waving her hand dismissively as though to brush away any formalities. “You must be Jisung? Munhee’s son?”

Jisung nodded, his bow still in place. “Yes, that is my mother.”

“Oh!” Your mother’s delight was palpable. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you in person. Munhee has told me so much about you, and she wasn’t exaggerating when she said you’ve become quite the handsome young man.”

Jisung’s blush deepened to an almost comical shade of crimson, and you had to suppress a smile. Stepping forward, you interrupted before the conversation could become even more uncomfortable.

“He just came to return my cane, which I left at the coffee shop yesterday. He was about to leave now.”

Your mother’s disappointment was evident as she took in the news. “Oh, but you must stay a little longer! I’ll prepare lunch for both of you.”

“No, Mom,” you insisted gently, though with firmness. “He’s got a busy day ahead, but perhaps another time.”

You began to make your way towards the front door, reaching for chairs and walls for support. Sitting on the swing for so long had left you a bit unsteady.

“I-I can help bring in the groceries before I leave, if there’s any left,” Jisung offered unexpectedly, his face still flushed but his eyes earnest.

Your mother hesitated, starting to protest that you would be helping her with that task. Jisung, however, persisted, insisting it was the least he could do since his visit had caused you to miss her calls. Her resistance melted away, and she relented with a grateful nod.

You watched, standing by the kitchen, as Jisung moved in and out of the house with bags full of groceries. His willingness to assist touched you deeply, and you felt a genuine warmth in your chest when he finally announced that he was done.

As you reached out for the front door once more, your hand brushed against Jisung’s elbow. He looked at you with a sheepish smile, his eyes conveying a silent encouragement. You realized he was making a deliberate effort to ease your burden, both by helping your mother and by offering his support now. The gesture made your heart swell, and a soft blush crept over your cheeks once again.

The two of you walked together in a comfortable silence, each step measured and unhurried. When you reached the front door, you withdrew your hand and turned to him with a grateful smile.

“Thank you for bringing my cane and for all your help today,” you said, your voice sincere.

“It was no trouble at all,” Jisung replied with a gentle smile. He clumsily turned to leave, his nerves palpable yet endearing.

As he stepped away, your mother’s voice called out from the kitchen, breaking the moment. “So, how do you like him?”

You looked back at Jisung, who was now at the edge of the driveway, his back turned as he walked away. You felt a flutter of something warm and hopeful in your chest as you deliberately refused to respond to your mother’s question.

posted: 07 • 30 • 2024

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Series taglist: @jisunglyricist @mitchii @skzstan12345 (Comment down below to be added!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

⨳ ❛𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

❛ In which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ) 2.1k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Don’t mind me constantly changing the layouts of my published works, I’m just extremely indecisive, sorry! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression, reader has fibromyalgia, constant mentions of being in pain, love-making, cussing, lots of angst, MDNI.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

⌗ O2┆ 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩

The sun shone generously as you strolled toward the end of your street, where your father's shop awaited. Its golden rays caressed your skin, adding a warm glow to this idyllic summer day. From a distance, you could see groups of friends and families spilling into the store, their animated conversations and broad smiles filling you with a sense of joy for them.

Despite your father’s frequent declarations that the shop's success was due to your own hard work, you found yourself at odds with his sentiment. The moment the entrance bells chimed their familiar greeting and you stepped inside, the atmosphere enveloped you like a refreshing breeze. The low murmur of customers mingled with the soft strains of background music, creating an ambiance that could only be attributed to the man whose dream it truly was.

Inside the shop, the air was cool compared to the summer warmth outside, but it did nothing to deter you from lingering by the side, marveling at the fruits of such a laborious dream. Dozens of plastic and wooden crates, brimming with a harmonious blend of vintage and contemporary vinyl records, were artfully arranged atop tables scattered throughout the store. These crates formed narrow, intimate aisles through which customers wove, searching for the perfect melody to match their mood.

The walls were adorned with posters of your father's beloved artists—rock legends from across the globe like Queen, AC/DC, ONE OK ROCK, and Day6, among others. Between these vibrant tributes, the empty spaces were filled with strands of fairy lights, their soft glow casting a warm, inviting radiance over the shop. This delicate lighting provided both charm and illumination to the otherwise windowless interior.

In truth, your father had transformed what was once a forsaken building, shrouded in the whispers of childhood ghost stories, into a uniquely enchanting haven. It was a space where one could easily retreat from the world, losing themselves amidst the music and the magic he had created.

After a few moments of searching, you finally spotted your father at the back of the shop, surrounded by a small group of men who appeared to be his contemporaries. They were engrossed in lively conversation, their laughter ringing out with genuine warmth and camaraderie. A surge of intense pride swelled in your chest, and a broad, uncontainable smile spread across your face as you watched him effortlessly shine in his element—a sight you had not been fortunate enough to witness until now.

The moment his gaze found yours, his entire demeanor transformed, lighting up with a joyful recognition. He gestured for you to join him, his movement inadvertently interrupting his animated conversation and drawing the attention of his companions to you. You couldn’t help but imagine he was regaling them with stories about you, a proud habit he had maintained since your childhood. Regardless of your recent achievements or lack thereof, he always found a way to weave your name into every conversation, eager to boast about his pride in you.

Your smile remained unwavering as you finally reached him, leaning against a table brimming with crates to momentarily rest, subtly masking your fatigue after offering polite bows to everyone. “Hello!” you greeted warmly.

“This is my daughter, Y/N, the one I’m always bragging about!” your father announced with evident pride.

Whether or not the men were aware of your profession, they masked their surprise with courteous bows in response to your father’s enthusiastic introduction. Despite the slight awkwardness you felt, your father remained blissfully oblivious, continuing to chat animatedly with his friends. He swiftly instructed you to stand behind the cashier as he wrapped up his conversation. You nodded dutifully, offering one final, graceful bow to the customers before following his directions.

Managing the checkout for the customers as they finalized their vinyl purchases proved to be surprisingly effortless, though they scarcely acknowledged you despite your efforts to radiate warmth and friendliness. The contrast between your public persona as Noctara and your everyday self was both amusing and stark, a reminder of how seldom you experienced the luxury of simply being yourself. It was intriguing to note how little recognition you garnered from those purchasing your own records.

Following Manager Jiho’s advice, you had deliberately dressed incognito. It was a rare treat to slip into your gray sweatpants, with a frayed hole at the knee that you stubbornly refused to discard, paired with a plain black crop top and white sneakers. You had exchanged your usual contact lenses for a pair of delicate, thin-framed glasses and gathered your hair into a casually messy high ponytail, accented by a red bandana tied in a small bow atop your head. A face mask completed your disguise, obscuring half of your face. Even with this modest ensemble, the thought of officially meeting these fans crossed your mind, though the idea of photos circulating online revealing your whereabouts was a chilling deterrent.

As the rush hour dwindled and the number of customers was reduced to a few stragglers, your father finally joined you behind the counter. He draped a warm, appreciative arm over your shoulders, his gratitude evident. You waved off his thanks with a soft smile, feeling a sense of contentment as the rhythmic tasks of the day provided a rare moment of tranquility for your weary mind.

As you wearily shifted from one foot to the other, your father gestured towards a tall stool tucked away beneath the counter. With a sigh of relief, you pulled it out and sank onto its comforting seat. The silence between you both was imbued with a gentle familiarity, yet it was clear that conversation was inevitable.

“Your mother mentioned the date,” he began, his tone imbued with a warmth that contrasted with the weariness you felt. “She’s been eagerly anticipating it since it was arranged.”

You couldn’t suppress a weary roll of your eyes and a scoff that escaped your lips. The unspoken truth about your mother’s unyielding determination was well-known to anyone who had crossed her path. “I can imagine.”

He paused, allowing the silence to stretch between you before continuing with a reflective tone. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know. Take your mother and me as a prime example—our parents arranged our first date, with all the supervision that implies.”

A flicker of curiosity prompted you to ask, “And were you happy about it back then?”

A warm, nostalgic chuckle escaped him, and his eyes seemed to drift back through the corridors of time. “Oh, not at all. I cherished my freedom as a single man with great fervor. Yet, I grew to be immensely grateful to my parents once I met your mother. She’s the reason I look forward to each new day.”

Your father’s unwavering devotion to your mother was a daily reminder of their profound bond. His love for her was ever-present, expressed in countless small gestures and heartfelt words. Their enduring love was a beacon, a once-in-a-lifetime romance that left you both in awe and a bit wistful. The idea of finding such a rare and beautiful connection felt like a distant dream, a cherished possibility that seemed almost beyond reach.

Their love story had been woven into the fabric of your childhood, recounted so often it had become a cherished refrain. While you held its every detail close to your heart, there were times you longed for a change of topic. “How’s Siwoo? The last I heard, his wife had welcomed a new baby a few months ago.” It was a humble attempt to shift the conversation, but it proved effective.

A contented sigh escaped your father’s lips, his eyes shimmering with paternal pride. “Ah, he’s thriving, from all accounts. It seems to be the only subject your mother is keen to discuss, aside from your own growing success.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you. It wasn’t surprising that Siwoo, with his naturally gentle and nurturing spirit, was flourishing as a father. It brought you immense joy to see him building a loving family, his partner described as his equal, creating a life together that seemed as perfect as it was fulfilling.

A moment of silence lingered between you, each lost in thought. “How’s work?” he eventually inquired.

“It’s hectic,” you sighed, the weariness evident in your voice. “I don’t get nearly as much rest as I need given my condition, but there’s a profound satisfaction in sharing my work as I do.”

You noticed the delicate way he sidestepped the mention of your condition, his gaze steady and sincere as he said, “I can’t express how happy it makes me to see your dreams come true.”

Though his words were meant to be a balm for your spirit, a pang of unspoken longing lingered within you. The ache wasn’t from a lack of his affection, but from the quiet yearning for your parents to fully grasp the weight of your daily battles. It mattered little that the doctors they consulted had dismissed your pain as inconsequential; the sting of their disbelief and the chasm it had created between you and them was deep and enduring. You doubted that sharing your diagnosis would bridge that gap, so you chose silence instead, letting the quiet sorrow settle over you like a heavy mist.

You arrived at the charming café nestled around the corner well before the agreed-upon time, eager to claim a quiet corner for your date. The delicate warmth of the summer evening contrasted with the crisp chill of the café's interior, where you sought solace. Your recent struggles with mobility made the prospect of remaining seated in one spot particularly appealing, and you aimed to make the evening as comfortable as possible. You carefully selected a secluded table in a cozy nook, shielded from prying eyes by a curtain of softly glowing fairy lights, craving the intimacy of privacy.

Settling into your seat, you gazed around the café, letting your curiosity about your date’s identity swirl through your thoughts. The idea of meeting another idol sparked a flicker of intrigue, despite your condition limiting your social interactions. You mentally cycled through a list of Korean celebrities you knew or had encountered in the past, only to realize how brief it was—an echo of your increasingly reclusive lifestyle.

As the minutes slipped by, the café’s atmosphere hummed with a gentle blend of murmured conversations and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Finally, a waiter approached, accompanied by a young man whose presence was unmistakably magnetic. Han Jisung from Stray Kids. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, recognizing him from various awards shows. His shy smile, revealed only after he removed his mask, was a charming contrast to his already striking appearance.

“Hello,” you greeted softly, your smile a beacon of warmth and friendliness.

Jisung’s eyes widened with a touch of surprise, and he returned your smile with genuine warmth. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

“You look really nice,” you replied, striving to dispel the tension with a sincere compliment.

His cheeks flushed a delicate pink. “Thank you. You look beautiful,” he responded, his voice soft and earnest.

Despite your polite exchanges, the conversation struggled to gain momentum, quickly falling into an awkward silence. You both made several attempts at small talk throughout the evening, but the words stumbled, failing to bridge the gap of unfamiliarity. The discomfort from the café’s rigid seats amplified your back pain, making it difficult for you to muster any flirty or charming banter. Your attempt to ask about Stray Kids’ latest album emerged as a hurried, awkward query that felt more suited to a scripted interview.

As the evening stretched on, the pain in your back became increasingly unbearable. You decided it was time to leave. With a sense of reluctance, you informed Jisung of your departure, noticing the disappointment that flickered across his face. He rose from his seat, an unspoken offer of support lingering in his stance. Although his presence was a reminder of your need for assistance, you were grateful for his kindness.

Outside, your driver waited, the car pulling up smoothly as soon as he saw you approach. You turned back to Jisung, offering a final, heartfelt smile. “It was wonderful meeting you,” you said, your voice tinged with genuine appreciation before you climbed into the car, which whisked you away into the night.

As soon as you disappeared from view, the same attentive waiter who had been serving them all evening hurried after you, clutching your collapsible cane. He handed it to Jisung, who looked at the cane with a puzzled expression.

Jisung’s brow furrowed in confusion as he examined the cane. He pulled out his phone, his mind racing with thoughts on how to return the forgotten item to you. He sent a quick text to his mother, seeking her advice on how to get in touch with you to ensure the cane found its way back into your hands.

posted: 07 • 23 • 2024

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Series taglist: @jisunglyricist @mitchii @skzstan12345 (Comment down below to be added!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

green’s announcement

hello lovely stays! i am very happy to inform you guys that i have joined the palestine stayblr fundraiser made by @astraystayyh!

for those of you who do not know what this means, it just means that while i am still going to accept everyone's requests, those who donate to the fundraiser linked in this post will be made a priority! i currently have sixteen requests that i am yet to complete, so if you've made a request and would like for me to get a move on with it, just send me proof of donation and i'll get started on it right away! whatever requests made from now until i say otherwise will automatically become a priority (if you have donated) and should be posted sooner than the rest, regardless of when the others had been requested.

you don't have to break the bank! if you donate $1, $5, $10 - whatever you can, it will be enough and qualify for the extra privilege! thank you everyone who helps!

here are the guidelines for requesting, here's my main masterlist as well as my taglist to stay updated on my works, and here is my kofi if you're feeling extra generous!

𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱,𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦

Genre:

🌻 - Fluff

✔️ - Completed

~~~~~~~~~~~

LeeFelix

LeeFelix:Happy Anniversary My Love💜@ LeeY/n

Likes:152.470  Repost:56.730  Comments:684.327

LeeY/n:Aww Ily(∩˃o˂∩)♡

LeeFelix to @ LeeY/n: Ily2(∩˃o˂∩)♡

StrayKids4ever:They are so cute my poor heatreu

StayWithStrayKids: They are so cute together

BangChan:Cute💙

I hope you like It~

Ha-Neul~💙

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬-BangChan&Minho

A/N:Here we Go!But this are just bang chan and Minho the others will follow soon 

Genre:🌻 - Fluff

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐧:

You and Bang Chan had a Son his name is Jae he is 7 Months old.

You  where with Jae outside JYP waiting For Chris to come out.Jae was  giggling and babbling with his dummy in his mouth, he was sitting in his  stroller.

You giggle"Jae are you exited to see Daddy?" He Giggle "Dada" You eyes got wide "What did you say Baby?"

Jae look to the door where Bang Chan was walking out.He points at him "Dada..." Chris came to you and gave you a kiss.

"hey  Baby how are you two?"You hug him "We are fine but...."Right as you where  about o tell Bang Chan what just Jae just said,Jae begins to whine  wanting attention form his Dad.

"Dada......Dada......Dada!"Chris looks  down at Jae and takes Jae from his stroller into his arms.Who am I  Jae?"Jae giggle and took his dummy out "Dada" Chris kissed Jaes whole  face you giggle "you two are cute.....but can we go Home and Cuddle how  does that sound?"

Chris nod and Jae babbled and squealed you chuckle "I take this as a Yes"

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 (𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨):

You wake up and groan you look at  your Daughter Yunai, she was sleeping in her crib.You where about to  stand up but something stopped you.

Arms pulled you back"Hmm.Jagi  where are going"You turned aroun and looked at Minho "I Wanted to make  breakfast" Minho pulled you closer to him.

You smiled and locked   up at him He smiled and kissed your Lips "Can i now get up please"Ge   groan "Fine" You smile and kissed him again.

You walked in the   Kitchen Minho followed you with Yunai in his arms she was on his   hip,her head was in his neck and she was  snoring cutely.Minho gave her head a kiss and sat down on the kitchen counter stool (does that make   sense..?i hope you understand what i mean)Yunai still in his arms.

You  begin cutting fruit for Yunai then you made Coffee for you and  Minho."Minho can you wake YuYu up please?" He nod ."Yunai Baby wake up  breakfast is ready" She whine and look up at her Father Minho smiled at  her and sat her down in her Highchair she babbled loudly as she saw the  Plate full of fruit you set it down in front of her and got up again to  get the Coffee for You and Minho and sat down beside Yunai.She pointed  at the Strawberry Minho who sat on the other side hold up a  Strawberry "You want a Strawberry YuYu?"

She Giggle   "Strawberry....." You look at her "Say that again Baby" She looke d at   you"S-Straw-b-berry?" Minho gave her one and she happily chewed on it.

Minho looks at her "I cant belive her first word was Strawberry I thought it would be Mommy or better Daddy"You smile at him.

You love me so hard

And I still can't sleep.

literally the exact same

happy birthday han jisung!

go quokka<333

why are the teaser pictures serving so much cunt? /pos (im not complaining)

4, not because of han or bang chan, but so I can sit in front of changbin to block him bc ik for a fact I am taller than him. it would be funny and i would chuckle.