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cloverstayy · 23 days
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𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖆 𝗚𝗡𝗔𝗕𝗡𝗔𝗛𝗖; ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. 𝗙𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗜
Chan's first sponsored post on Insta! So proud of him.
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cloverstayy · 25 days
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𝙰𝚁𝚃 → 𝙶𝙾𝙳'𝚂 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚄
I'm having so much fun making SKZ-themed posters. Please reblog if you enjoyed it! I'd cry happy tears.
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cloverstayy · 1 month
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𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙶 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽: 𝙿𝚃. 여섯
Chan's Room.
Missing his stupid face.
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cloverstayy · 2 months
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𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝙼𝙰𝙳 → 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗; 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗
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So, for those of you whom aren't subscribed to Christopher's Bubble OR whom haven't either heard and/or seen about the most recent Bubble antics recently on other forms of social media, the man decided to live out his K-Drama Fantasies on behalf of Chan Stans and Stay everywhere.
What exactly did he do, you ask? Well, to put it simply (and trust me, this is difficult because Chan is my bias) he broke up with us, tried to accuse us of cheating, but then admitted it was him who had been cheating to then admitting he was playing a simple joke on us and reassured us that he'd never want to do anything to hurt us (bless him, I swear). Who was it? It was Berry. Yes. His dog, Berry. 😒😂
I'm pretty sure non-Chan stans were convinced there was something actually wrong with him due to the number of Tiktoks and Fans posts I personally saw, however, us Chan-biased knew the man was full of shit and was most assuredly pulling some of his usual Chan-coded shenanigans.
In any case, my bestie and twin @ariaphoenix26-blog demanded I post this somewhat random as fuck idea I had yesterday as head canon. So, yeah.
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𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝙼𝙰𝙳
It didn't matter what Chris did, how he said it, or why he did it. The simple fact still remained the same: you could never get mad at him.
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→ Chris is the type of man that if asked, he'd likely do some crazy shit for the person he loves. Walk over hot coals? Sure. Dodge a few bullets? Yeah, no problem. Clean your shared living space, wash and fold laundry, put away dishes and cook dinner last minute? Of course.
→ But ask him to do something like, take out the trash? Well, fuck all of that.
→ And, truthfully, its not because he's incapable. He's exceedingly able to do said task. Its just...well...well he gets really hyper-focused on a task, especially a task he wants to do, it kind of--sort of--slips his mind.
→ And sure, the first few times he tells you this and flashes that thought-paralyzing smile, its suddenly not a big deal and you have no problem taking it out yourself.
→ However, the moment it goes from "a few times" to "too many times", you're suddenly finding yourself overcome with a rather new emotion. At least, when it comes to anything related to Chris.
→ You're big mad. Furious even. And its justifiable! Even Chris would agree with you. He's a grown ass man; he knows better.
→ However, the stars align and the universe conspires against you the morning you do ask him to take it out.
→ You're running late. You have an entirely packed work schedule. You slept for literal shit the night before. Your favorite pair of work pants weren't clean. You didn't have your favorite breakfast yogurt and you had to do mandatory overtime to top it all off.
→ So you ask Chris last minute as you're hastily packing up your work bag to take out the trash before you get home from work later that evening.
→ "Yeah, yeah, of course, beautiful! I'll take care of it." He promises and you believe him. Because in that moment, you don't have the time nor bandwidth to remember to question him about the other times he forgot. So, in your haste, you thank him and plant a kiss on his forehead before dashing out the door for work.
→ Well, see, Chris really did intend to do it. And he even wrote it down on a post-it note that he stuck to the monitor of his computer to remind him. But then he got distracted, watching Stay vlogs on Youtube. And then he got inspired by a mashup of Case 143 and God's Menu that a Stay had made, so he had to mess around in his studio.
→ Then suddenly it was 6:30pm. Chris is the literal physical embodiment of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.
→ Chris hears the door open when you arrive home. And then the subsequent shout of his name. Okay, you're definitely not happy. He's also pretty sure he hears some slamming of somekind, maybe.
→ But it isn't until he hears your little feet stomping down the hall towards his studio door that he cannot help but find you the absolute cutest thing he's ever seen and heard than in this moment.
→ And lets be clear...Chris never invalidates you or dismisses you when you're upset. He just can't help but find it really fucking precious.
→ But you? Well, you're pissed. And you're determined to let his ass know. Because every other time you have been upset with him, he somehow disarms you completely and you immediately forget why you were mad in the first place.
→ Its damn near impossible to be mad at him. I mean, look at him. How can you get mad at that face? You can't, that's why.
→ Anticipating you, Chris is on the other side of his studio door just waiting. And as expected, he hears the all too familiar bang, bang, bang of your fist making contact with the door.
→ You do your best to strengthen your resolve. This time you're gonna give him the people's elbow and really let him have it. He just couldn't keep getting away with this. You know it. He knows it.
→ But that was before he'd opened his door. Well, after your little fists pounded his door, he promptly opened it and looked down at you. His head cocked to the side, one brow lifted as if he has absolutely no clue why you're standing there with your arms crossed, tapping your foot against the hardwood floor while wearing a really pathetic attempt at pure ire.
→ And you were so determined to proverbially throat punch the man, especially after the day you'd had (and to be fair, Chris probably would've let you literally throat punch him if he knew it would make you feel better). But once he opens the door and the scent of his studio and him bum rushes your nostrils, your eyes dart up to his and...and...
→ Well, god fucking damnit.
→ What were you even mad at him for? Why is he looking at you like you're some sort of damsel in distress? Why is he smiling? What's so funny?
→ "CHRISTOPHER!" Is all you can manage, your voice coming out in more of an exasperated whine and definitely not sounding any bit angry.
→ Chris stands there and mirrors you, crossing his arms and leans into the door jam with his head still cocked to the side. One of his dimples is showing and you just know he fucking knows. He knows why you're standing there. And he knows why you're upset. Or, well, you think he knows just based on the way he's looking at you like the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ You release your crossed arms, letting out a very audible huff through your nose as you do and you just stare at him. Blinking wildly, trying to find the resolve you knew you had about 60 seconds ago. But where it went, you haven't a fucking clue. Because he's standing there...just looking at you like you are the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ "Baby?" He finally responds. His voice is calm, suddenly soothing your rattled nerves. You let out yet another huff, but this time its a little less intense and you drop your shoulders.
→ "I hate you. You know that? I'm mad. I'm mad at...you!" You press your finger gently into his chest as you speak, "But...but I can't fucking remember why now because you're looking at me like that and...and...UGH!"
→ Chris knows you had a rough day. He doesn't even need to ask you to know it. He just feels it radiating off of you. So, he cocks his head to the opposite side as you stand there, trying to be mad about something and looking less and less like the raging bull you thought you did and more like a shrieking squirrel.
→ And Chris lets a beat of silence go between the both of you before he simply places each of his hands on either side of your arms and brings you close to him. You hear a soft sigh breach his lips before he leans in and presses a firm, but gentle kiss to your forehead.
→ Yeah, this fucker disarmed you with the forehead kiss this time. Damnit, damnit, damnit.
→ He leans back up, straightening himself upright before giving your arms a gentle squeeze. And he doesn't say anything. His arms fall back to his sides as he resumes his previous stance against the door jam. He's still smiling at you like you are the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ You let out one last sigh. Well, the man did it again. And you can't even be mad. Because I mean, look at him. Try being mad at him. Its impossible.
→ You give a shake of your head before spinning on your heels, heading back down the hall towards the kitchen. But you feel Chris' eyes are still on you. And you look back over your shoulder and yep, there those brown little boba eyes are, locked on you.
→ "I'm mad at you. So don't you dare stare at my ass as I walk away from you." You look forward again, but not before you place a hand on each butt cheek in a feeble attempt to block Chris' gaze.
→ And all you hear are his muffled giggles. His absolutely adorable, precious and cute giggles. Fucking shitbird.
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cloverstayy · 2 months
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BANG CHAN X NYLON JAPAN
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I apologize in advance. I’ll be here for the next 5-7 business days.
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cloverstayy · 2 months
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𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴: 𝚜𝚔𝚣 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝗣𝗧. 𝟭
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𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴;
The Open Dialogue Series is meant to spark conversation within the Stray Kids Fan Fiction community, not only between authors, but readers as well.
If you enjoyed or wish to add your perspective, 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚!
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So, since becoming a Stray Kids fanfic author, as well as consuming plenty of it, there are quite a few canonical concepts I feel like I just need to get on my soapbox about. And let me preface this by saying that generally these beliefs are strengthened not only from the copious hours of observations of the boys I’ve done (and still do), but in the way certain things are said or how they’re phrased by each one, respectively. 
I feel like fan fiction, by virtue, is the middle ground between fiction and non-fiction. And for “good” fan fiction to be a truly immersive experience (in most instances, anyways), there has to be some kind of basis in fact. And fact can be considered anything observed (generally more than once) like behaviors or mannerisms, things that are explicitly or implicitly said, how the boys interact with one another/Stay/staff, etc.
Now, that isn’t to say that a fanfic author can’t manipulate a few details or concepts because, after all, it is a fan fiction. However, when a plot line is developed around a factual/semi-factual basis (person or otherwise) to then immediately deviate in direct opposition to that fact, it makes the entire experience and general believability of the story to fall flat on its face. 
Especially if the believability of the story is critical to the plot line itself—consider instances where “y/n” is utilized instead of an original female character, for example. The author presumably uses the function of “y/n” so the reader, whomever they are, can directly place themselves within that role (as is the entire purpose of utilizing that pronoun in the first place, realistically). In some instances, “y/n” is and can be self serving and of course it is, but it isn’t just that. It also serves the reader. And maintaining a reasonable level of believability helps the reader have a truly captivating experience.
Keep in mind, this isn’t necessarily true when the concept of alternate universes are being utilized and/or when an author has explicitly stated otherwise. There is a lot more freedom to manipulate many, or quite literally all, pieces of factual evidence for the sole purpose of telling a story. Its only when the story hasn’t been presented as an alternate universe that the (in the tags, author’s notes or prologue) point I’m making becomes even more valid.
I also want to mention that masculinity and femininity ≠ masculine and feminine energy. The two concepts are not the same thing and the amount of times I’ve either seen these concepts confused or straight up misused is unreal. Masculinity/Femininity are patriarchal societal constructs taught to us from a very young age—a woman’s place is in the home or a man needs to always hide his emotions are great examples of how these constructs can take a toxic turn and influence us negatively. Now, that is not to say that there are not healthy and realistic presentations of the masculine and feminine constructs; but those are not rooted in patriarchal tradition and have honestly, in my opinion, only really started to come to the forefront of society within the last 40-50 years. 
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Masculine and Feminine energy, on the other hand, are constructs of expression we are born with. Masculinity/Femininity are nurture, where as Masculine and Feminine energy are very much nature—if that makes sense. These forms of expression can be influenced by the societal ideas of what is or isn’t masculine or feminine, however, Masculine/Feminine energy is how we present to others—their perception of us in society. 
Let’s take Changbin and Felix, for example. I would say that Changbin’s Masc./Fem. energy is a 60/40 split, where his Masculine energy presents 60% of the time and his feminine energy presents 40% of the time. However, he is primarily a masculine presenting individual. There is little to no androgyny when it comes to Changbin, however his relatively balanced energies allow for him to be that masculine presenting man who has moments where he can present with quite a feminine energy (for example, when he’s doing aegyo or being ‘mom’ to the group). 
Felix, on the other hand, has a Masc./Fem. energy split closer to 70/30. Where 70% of the time, his energy reads feminine and the other 30%, it is masculine. When it comes to masculine/feminine presentation, its a neutral 50/50 split. Felix is exceedingly androgynous; capable of encapsulating a strong masculine or feminine presentation regardless of his energy split. Take Felix’s modeling as the example here: in some shoots, he is presented in more feminine apparel, but clearly exudes a strong masculine presentation, either in facial expression or stance/posture. Where as the opposite can be true when he is presented in more masculine apparel, his features can and do come across much softer and proverbially graceful, as it were.
That being said, for the purpose of this dialogue, I’m not referring to anything with any basis around alternate universe plot lines because I understand the flexibility with them and how those literary devices are meant to function. 
And, truthfully, write whatever and however you want to write it! These are just my thoughts and opinions and by no means are these things a resolute requirement. Just keep in mind that there is a difference between writing something inspired by a real life person versus writing something using their likeness as inspiration. 
If you want to write about Chan, completely disregarding any of his beliefs, mannerisms, quirks, behaviors, etc but write about him as the “Stray Kids Bang Chan” (and without it being an alternate universe plot line), just realize that there are going to be people who could find your presentation to be severely lacking or simply stated, wrong/incorrect. And at the end of the day, that may have an affect regarding their perception and relationship with your piece of work.
In any case, I’ll probably end up making this a series because there are too many canons to put into one post. But, here are just a few of my canonical beliefs and why I believe the way I do. 
Let me know if you feel the same way I do! Alternatively, if you’ve got a different frame of reference than the one I presented, please share; I’m always open to hearing other perspectives! If there a canon that you believe with your whole chest and its one I didn’t happen to mention, share that, too! Send it to me and I’ll provide my point of view…for science.
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𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂
𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗜𝗦 𝗔 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗧. Are there moments where he can have “bottom energy”? Sure. But “bottom energy” is not the same thing as being a submissive; they’re not synonymous. Understanding the difference is critical here and if you don’t understand the difference, either educate yourself or simply don’t write about it. I'll also mention that he can, and often time does, defer to his team. That's especially true when any kind of decision making occurs. Deferring is also not synonymous with being submissive in nature, either.
𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛? In various interviews, performances, and interactions, he has presented himself as someone with strong dominant qualities and behaviors. Things like being able to command an entire arena of people, his stubborn ways or in the ways he speaks about each of the boys only substantiate this fact. 
Being a leader is not a skill he learned, but one he was born with and continues to perfect as he gets older. Leaders by virtue of being leaders are almost always dominant individuals; the role literally requires it. But notice how I didn’t say anything about dominance in terms of sexuality; I said energy. This was on purpose. However, don’t get me wrong, I do believe that he is also dominant in that capacity as well, but when we are talking about writing fan fiction, illustrating him with meek and timid personality traits just do not make any sense at all. And this is especially true when he’s used as the inspiration for a story and not just his likeness. 
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𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗠𝗜𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗜.𝗡. 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗦. There are so, so many fanfics that I’ve read where Seungmin and I.N. are presented as these inexperienced and sheltered little boys, which is so far from the truth. Or they're described in very submissive character roles, sometimes in embarassing or even degrading ones. Taking that route just always seems goofy to me, to be honest. First, they’re grown ass men. AKA big boys who've, I assure you, been around the figurative block a few times. Second, being the two youngest in the group does not equal sexual inexperience and/or ignorance. To consistently see them as virgins who’ve never seen a pair of tits, for example, is just silly. 
𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛? If you’ve watched at least one SKZ Talker episode or seen at least one of their lives respectively, it’ll be pretty easy to understand my reasoning here. While they're not blatantly flirtatious by nature, they're also not always appropriate in what they say, for example. Not only that, but look at the Hyung Line. The four of them are going to be men whom they look up to and seek guidance from, especially in regards to things they may actually be inexperienced or ignorant about. So to tell me they’re “innocent and pure creatures” just makes no damn sense.
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𝗙𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗫 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗩𝗘, 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 "𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟"/"𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦"-𝗧𝗬𝗣𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡. Han and Felix are somewhat enigmatic (as are most Virgos and this is coming from a Virgo). However, I’m not going to utilize just astrological meanings and interpretation as a basis for my beliefs. However, I do feel as though—regarding all of them—their zodiacs and where they fall within their birth charts is something I could have a lot of fun dissecting. Regardless of that specific trait, just observing them not only in the group of 8, but also in interviews or where the lot of them are all interacting in some way shows how they often times fall back, listen and observe before adding in any of their thoughts/ideas/contributions. It is in their nature to be a bit more reserved before they speak. They are the observers of the group—as is Seungmin! 
𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛? In most cases within society, men whom are quiet or more reserved while around others can come across as more timid or submissive in nature, when in reality, thats so far from the truth—especially in this instance. 
The toxic masculinity constructs emphasize that men should be aggressive and stand their ground, but a lot of men are the opposite of that. Even more, the toxic feminine construct stresses that women should be 180º in the other direction; for a woman to be opinionated and passionate can come across as being "unladylike"—and for anecdotal evidence sake, I know this to be true because I've been told I'm "too aggressive" when I'm talking about something I'm particularly passionate about because my mannerisms and tone of voice are utilizing the more masculine energies I do possess.
Now, do I know with unyielding certainty any of what I’m saying is fact? Of course not. I’m simply going off of patterns in behavior, responses, observations of those and things they’ve said directly—or indirectly. Without having a personal conversation with each of them, everything I say is purely speculative and should be treated as such. But to assign them societal expectations of what we believe feminine energy to be, we also strip them of that masculine energy they already possess. And it makes it that much harder for others to recognize that energy when presented with it, especially in general terms unrelated to anything fan fiction related. 
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Of course, each of these topics are not exhaustive and I can talk about them at length. Not only because I find it fascinating, but creating a dialogue around my observations and the observations of others is what creates such a rich fanfic community-at least, in part!  
But, do you agree? Disagree? I am very interested to hear what your perspective and thoughts are, as the whole point of making this post is to create an open dialogue not only between other fan fiction authors, but fans, too!
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cloverstayy · 2 months
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𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝙼𝙰𝙳 → 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗; 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗
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So, for those of you whom aren't subscribed to Christopher's Bubble OR whom haven't either heard and/or seen about the most recent Bubble antics recently on other forms of social media, the man decided to live out his K-Drama Fantasies on behalf of Chan Stans and Stay everywhere.
What exactly did he do, you ask? Well, to put it simply (and trust me, this is difficult because Chan is my bias) he broke up with us, tried to accuse us of cheating, but then admitted it was him who had been cheating to then admitting he was playing a simple joke on us and reassured us that he'd never want to do anything to hurt us (bless him, I swear). Who was it? It was Berry. Yes. His dog, Berry. 😒😂
I'm pretty sure non-Chan stans were convinced there was something actually wrong with him due to the number of Tiktoks and Fans posts I personally saw, however, us Chan-biased knew the man was full of shit and was most assuredly pulling some of his usual Chan-coded shenanigans.
In any case, my bestie and twin @ariaphoenix26-blog demanded I post this somewhat random as fuck idea I had yesterday as head canon. So, yeah.
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𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝙼𝙰𝙳
It didn't matter what Chris did, how he said it, or why he did it. The simple fact still remained the same: you could never get mad at him.
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→ Chris is the type of man that if asked, he'd likely do some crazy shit for the person he loves. Walk over hot coals? Sure. Dodge a few bullets? Yeah, no problem. Clean your shared living space, wash and fold laundry, put away dishes and cook dinner last minute? Of course.
→ But ask him to do something like, take out the trash? Well, fuck all of that.
→ And, truthfully, its not because he's incapable. He's exceedingly able to do said task. Its just...well...well he gets really hyper-focused on a task, especially a task he wants to do, it kind of--sort of--slips his mind.
→ And sure, the first few times he tells you this and flashes that thought-paralyzing smile, its suddenly not a big deal and you have no problem taking it out yourself.
→ However, the moment it goes from "a few times" to "too many times", you're suddenly finding yourself overcome with a rather new emotion. At least, when it comes to anything related to Chris.
→ You're big mad. Furious even. And its justifiable! Even Chris would agree with you. He's a grown ass man; he knows better.
→ However, the stars align and the universe conspires against you the morning you do ask him to take it out.
→ You're running late. You have an entirely packed work schedule. You slept for literal shit the night before. Your favorite pair of work pants weren't clean. You didn't have your favorite breakfast yogurt and you had to do mandatory overtime to top it all off.
→ So you ask Chris last minute as you're hastily packing up your work bag to take out the trash before you get home from work later that evening.
→ "Yeah, yeah, of course, beautiful! I'll take care of it." He promises and you believe him. Because in that moment, you don't have the time nor bandwidth to remember to question him about the other times he forgot. So, in your haste, you thank him and plant a kiss on his forehead before dashing out the door for work.
→ Well, see, Chris really did intend to do it. And he even wrote it down on a post-it note that he stuck to the monitor of his computer to remind him. But then he got distracted, watching Stay vlogs on Youtube. And then he got inspired by a mashup of Case 143 and God's Menu that a Stay had made, so he had to mess around in his studio.
→ Then suddenly it was 6:30pm. Chris is the literal physical embodiment of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.
→ Chris hears the door open when you arrive home. And then the subsequent shout of his name. Okay, you're definitely not happy. He's also pretty sure he hears some slamming of somekind, maybe.
→ But it isn't until he hears your little feet stomping down the hall towards his studio door that he cannot help but find you the absolute cutest thing he's ever seen and heard than in this moment.
→ And lets be clear...Chris never invalidates you or dismisses you when you're upset. He just can't help but find it really fucking precious.
→ But you? Well, you're pissed. And you're determined to let his ass know. Because every other time you have been upset with him, he somehow disarms you completely and you immediately forget why you were mad in the first place.
→ Its damn near impossible to be mad at him. I mean, look at him. How can you get mad at that face? You can't, that's why.
→ Anticipating you, Chris is on the other side of his studio door just waiting. And as expected, he hears the all too familiar bang, bang, bang of your fist making contact with the door.
→ You do your best to strengthen your resolve. This time you're gonna give him the people's elbow and really let him have it. He just couldn't keep getting away with this. You know it. He knows it.
→ But that was before he'd opened his door. Well, after your little fists pounded his door, he promptly opened it and looked down at you. His head cocked to the side, one brow lifted as if he has absolutely no clue why you're standing there with your arms crossed, tapping your foot against the hardwood floor while wearing a really pathetic attempt at pure ire.
→ And you were so determined to proverbially throat punch the man, especially after the day you'd had (and to be fair, Chris probably would've let you literally throat punch him if he knew it would make you feel better). But once he opens the door and the scent of his studio and him bum rushes your nostrils, your eyes dart up to his and...and...
→ Well, god fucking damnit.
→ What were you even mad at him for? Why is he looking at you like you're some sort of damsel in distress? Why is he smiling? What's so funny?
→ "CHRISTOPHER!" Is all you can manage, your voice coming out in more of an exasperated whine and definitely not sounding any bit angry.
→ Chris stands there and mirrors you, crossing his arms and leans into the door jam with his head still cocked to the side. One of his dimples is showing and you just know he fucking knows. He knows why you're standing there. And he knows why you're upset. Or, well, you think he knows just based on the way he's looking at you like the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ You release your crossed arms, letting out a very audible huff through your nose as you do and you just stare at him. Blinking wildly, trying to find the resolve you knew you had about 60 seconds ago. But where it went, you haven't a fucking clue. Because he's standing there...just looking at you like you are the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ "Baby?" He finally responds. His voice is calm, suddenly soothing your rattled nerves. You let out yet another huff, but this time its a little less intense and you drop your shoulders.
→ "I hate you. You know that? I'm mad. I'm mad at...you!" You press your finger gently into his chest as you speak, "But...but I can't fucking remember why now because you're looking at me like that and...and...UGH!"
→ Chris knows you had a rough day. He doesn't even need to ask you to know it. He just feels it radiating off of you. So, he cocks his head to the opposite side as you stand there, trying to be mad about something and looking less and less like the raging bull you thought you did and more like a shrieking squirrel.
→ And Chris lets a beat of silence go between the both of you before he simply places each of his hands on either side of your arms and brings you close to him. You hear a soft sigh breach his lips before he leans in and presses a firm, but gentle kiss to your forehead.
→ Yeah, this fucker disarmed you with the forehead kiss this time. Damnit, damnit, damnit.
→ He leans back up, straightening himself upright before giving your arms a gentle squeeze. And he doesn't say anything. His arms fall back to his sides as he resumes his previous stance against the door jam. He's still smiling at you like you are the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ You let out one last sigh. Well, the man did it again. And you can't even be mad. Because I mean, look at him. Try being mad at him. Its impossible.
→ You give a shake of your head before spinning on your heels, heading back down the hall towards the kitchen. But you feel Chris' eyes are still on you. And you look back over your shoulder and yep, there those brown little boba eyes are, locked on you.
→ "I'm mad at you. So don't you dare stare at my ass as I walk away from you." You look forward again, but not before you place a hand on each butt cheek in a feeble attempt to block Chris' gaze.
→ And all you hear are his muffled giggles. His absolutely adorable, precious and cute giggles. Fucking shitbird.
59 notes · View notes
cloverstayy · 2 months
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𝚆𝙾𝙻𝙵𝙸𝚂𝙷 ⇢ 𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡&𝘺/𝘯
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First off, thank you so much Anon for suggesting this absolutely adorable idea! And if you've got an endless supply of them, go ahead and send 'em my way! I'll make a list.
That being said, I honestly had a lot of fun making this one. I have an 8-year-old little boy, so I kind of got to relive that time during my pregnancy. I hope I did your suggestion justice and you enjoy it! If you read this, thank you. Please reblog to share as it honestly makes me insanely happy when others can enjoy my work!
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STORY RATING E for everyone.
TYPE husband!chan and wife!y/n, slice of life
CONTENT WARNING Brief use of explicit language at the end, otherwise absolutely NOTHING besides a ton of fluff!
W/C 2,160
“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said the item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby."
“Y/n?” 
My attention bounced from the phone in my hands over to the nurse straddling the doorway directly between the main waiting area and exam rooms. She clutched a clipboard close to her chest as her eyes leveled with my own, a soft smile blooming across her face in greeting.
“Chris, babe, c’mon. That’s us.” 
My fingertips grazed his bicep, having quickly traveled down to his forearm to deliver a placid squeeze. 
Chris’ eyes sought mine as an shallow hum resounded from his chest; the palm of his hand asserted the gentlest of guiding pressures against my lower back as we both made our way to the waiting nurse. 
———
“Alright, Y/n. I’ll have you hop up here,” The nurse gestured with a nod in the direction of the the exam chair. “How’s your first trimester been so far?” 
I padded towards said chair, positioning my body so my behind was pressed flush against the chair’s edge. I planted a palm on either side of my hips and hoisted myself up the rest of the way, “Ah, well, y’know…its been an experience, I’ll say that much.” 
A seasoned hum bristled from the nurse, who had already started to prepare the sonographer’s machine. The quiet click, click, clack of the mechanical keyboard filled the room as she navigated through several menus before locating the correct patient file. 
“This is your first, right?” Her head moved to make eye contact, however her body maintained it’s station as her hands continued to fly across the keys. 
The nurse paused, her focus dialed into me as I acknowledged with an affirmative hum. 
Her head returned to it’s previous position as she flipped through several more menus, logging updated numbers for my vitals, “Well, I’d say calling it an experience is quite accurate! You both excited to find out the gender?”
Noticing Chris had become distracted on his phone, presumably answering something important, I gently nudged his elbow with my foot to capture his attention. 
His eyes flitted upwards, darting between the nurse and myself as a sheepish smile painted his features. Chris readjusted in the chair directly adjacent to the exam chair, sliding his phone into his back pocket before responding, “I have been counting down the days. Between myself, Y/n and my bandmates, its an even split.” 
Having completed the prep work for the sonographer, the nurse swiveled on her heels as she faced the both of us, “Well, good thing you there is a 50/50 chance someone is right. Though, I’ve gotta know, what are mom and dad hoping for?” 
Sharing the same braincell and without missing a beat, Chris and I responded in tandem, “Girl.” 
———
“Alright, Y/n, I’m going to take a view measurements and make sure everything is growing the way its supposed to and that everything is in its correct place. So I may get quiet for a moment, but after I’m done, the we will do the exciting part, yeah?” The sonographer clarified as she pulled a pair of latex gloves from an overhead cubby near the machine’s monitor. 
Drawing in a gulp of air, I signaled my understanding with a brief nod of my head, “Take all the time you need! Baby’s health is way more important, of course.” 
She flashed me a brief smile before she spun her chair back into position to face the sonogram’s display, promptly sliding her finger over the probe’s ON/OFF switch to the on position. As she held the probe in one hand, she grabbed hold of the conduction gel and tilted it upside down before giving it a few solid shakes to shift the settled gel to the open end. 
“This might be cold, I’m sorry!” 
Her fingers gingerly squeezed the bottle as it dispersed in a little blob near my belly button. She oriented the bottle upright and returned it back to the slot in the sonogram machine, she then touched the probe to my tummy. The probe passed over my skin from belly button to slightly below the top of my underwear before the clicks of the keyboard indicated the input of data. 
Approximately 10 minutes passed, the whirring of the machine kicking up a notch anytime the sonographer captured a particular angle to get a better measurement, before she turned to face Chris and I.
“Well, good news is Baby Bahng is growing right along schedule and looks absolutely perfect. Baby's length is around the 75th percentile for gestation, but I’m not too entirely worried about that as getting super accurate measurements when they’re still this little is a bit harder, especially length. Are there any questions you have about this part?” 
“Chris?” I broke eye contact with her to make my own with his, whose eyes were transfixed on the sonogram display during the duration of the sonographer’s exam, “If he doesn’t, I don’t.” 
“As long as my little pumpkin is happy and healthy, I don’t have any questions.” His eyes connected with the sonographer’s as they upturned in pure pride. 
She met his response with a perfunctory nod, “Alright. Let’s see if we’ve got a girl or a boy, shall we?” 
“Absolutely.” Chris’s reaffixed his gaze to the monitor, his words near imperceptible, but laced with such anticipation awaiting the sonographer’s findings. 
I sensed the sudden warmth of Chris’ palm, pressed firmly right above my kneecap, as his fingers compressed into the sides of my leg in a secure grasp. I untucked the hand nearest Chris, my fingertips finding the security of his free hand. Without so much as a twitch, our hands interlaced and fingers slotted together. 
“Alright, let me zoom in just a bit here…” She paused, leaning towards the monitor to get a better view before clicking the mouse to magnify a bit closer, “Yep. Thought so. Congratulations to the both of you! You will be welcoming Baby Girl Bahng…in give or take about 6 months. Let me get some pictures printed for you both.” 
She lifted the probe from my growing bump, wiping and sanitizing clean the probe’s transducer before slotting it back into it’s holder. While she took a moment to toss her gloves in the bin directly under the sonogram desk, she handed me a cloth to wipe up any remaining gel she missed during clean up. Her chair softly creaked as she swiftly returned to her chair and begin printing sonogram photos for Chris and I. 
Upon hearing the words Baby Girl Bahng, Chris and I made eye contact. And so much was said without saying anything at all. 
“A girl…” I breathed, the grip with Chris’ hand only strengthening. 
“A girl.” He spoke so resolutely, and rightfully so. But it was in more ways than just having been told so. From the moment I had told him I was pregnant, he emanated this entirely new type of confidence in virtually everything from handling the ebb and flow of my emotions to the rather normal or insanely bizarre nature of my cravings. And never, not once, did he question his ability in becoming a father. 
But in this moment, it was like that confidence only amplified upon itself—wholly unwavering in any capacity whatsoever after hearing the news that we were  going to be having a girl. It was in moments like these I was reminded that falling in love with him was quite possibly one of the easiest things I’d ever done. 
———
“Lemme get the door for you, baby.” Chris’ feet shuffled towards the car door, his hand gripped the underside of the handle as he pulled upwards so he could usher me inside. 
As I situated myself in the passenger seat, I wrestled the seatbelt from behind my shoulder and adjusted the lap portion under my bump. Chris’ door opened and he begun to settle into the driver’s side just as I clicked the belt into place. 
“I already know the answer to this question, but I’m going to ask it anyways,” Chris slotted the key into the ignition as he placed his hand on the gear shift, throwing it into reverse before resuming his query, “How does a strawberry cheesecake concrete sound right about now?” 
“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby. Can we snag some salt and vinegar chips, too?” 
Chris guffawed at the request, already knowing that any answer other than yes would be the wrong one, “Of course, baby girl, we can definitely do that. Y’know, I was talking with Jihyo the other day. The topic of your cravings came up.” 
“Oh? Tell me more.” 
“Well, the ice cream and chips weren’t anything out of the ordinary to her at all. Those are rather timid in comparison,” Chris shifted his focus to me briefly, flashing one of his perspicacious glances in my direction, “It was the…weird and absurd ones that she honestly got a kick out of.” 
“Oh god, Chris. What did you tell her?” I whinged, bringing the palm of my head to my forehead in preemptive embarrassment. 
“Remember that time you sent me out at like 2am because you demanded salt and vinegar chips?”
“Oh Jesus Christ, yes I do.” 
That wasn’t the only thing I demanded, though. 
“Yeah, but then you demanded marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers because you absolutely required those items to make ‘salty s’mores’ and if you didn’t get those items, you were going to—and I quote—‘expire’.” Chris couldn’t help the goofy smile that surged across his face. 
“Listen. Those were absolutely delicious and I’ll die on that hill.” I crossed my arms over one another as I feigned some kind of weak attempt at indignation. 
“Hey! I never said they weren’t. I tried one, remember? I thought they were tasty.” 
“I forgot I made you try them, now that you mention it.” I let out a soft chuckle, “What else? I know that wasn’t the only one you mentioned.” 
Another boisterous giggle filled the car, “Well, I definitely mentioned the very specific ice chips you like from your favorite restaurant and the spicy buldak ramen you’ve been eating almost every day. But I think the kimchi with any kind of sour candy you can manage to get your hands on or the recent habit of putting ketchup on quite literally anything is what managed to really baffle her.” 
“You did not tell her about the kimchi and sour candy.” I winced, throwing my head back against the headrest. 
“Oh hell yes I did. How could I leave that one out?” Chris’ voice dripped with a amusement, finding my reaction to be almost as funny as the craving itself. 
“I cannot believe you,” I shook my head. “Hold on, what did you tell her I was putting ketchup on because I know how ridiculously you can exaggerate.” 
“I left the obvious ones out, of course. That just seemed pointless. But, I told her about the scrambled eggs and macaroni and cheese,” Chris paused, his eyes taking in the lilt of my brows as he pulled into the parking lot of our favorite ice cream parlor. “But I might have mentioned you also like it on kimchi, dipping egg rolls in it…that fried rice Minho makes…I did mention tacos and sometimes, but not always, the buldak ramen. I think that was it.” 
The expression that overtook my face was nothing short of deadpan, “I’m going to end you, Christopher.”  
Once the car was in park, Chris erupted in laughter, “You’ll do no such thing. You love me.” 
I rolled my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose between my pointer and index fingers, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” 
The laughs quickly progressed from general light-heartedness to Chris’ signature squeaking-laughs, only wavering in intensity as he continued to intake air. 
“Stop laughing at me!” I shrieked, my hand unknowingly making contact with his shoulder. 
“Oh baby girl,” his laughs halted as he took the hand I thumped him with in his, “Jihyo found it absolutely weird, yes, but also completely endearing. As do I. Endearing that is. You’re growing a whole damn human. You have every right in the world to eat the most eccentric food combinations you want and do so as you damn well please. And I will procure those concoctions whenever you ask.” 
Once again, despite feeling a wee bit ridiculed for my rather odd pregnancy cravings and the subsequent winding up I received for it, Chris always had this proclivity for knowing just what to say when he could sense even an inkling that I might become upset. This sense only seemed to intensify since becoming pregnant. Add yet another reason why choosing to love him was the most effortless commitment I could’ve made. 
“C’mon. Lets get inside and order you that ice cream, yeah?”  
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cloverstayy · 2 months
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𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝙼𝙰𝙳 → 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗; 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗
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So, for those of you whom aren't subscribed to Christopher's Bubble OR whom haven't either heard and/or seen about the most recent Bubble antics recently on other forms of social media, the man decided to live out his K-Drama Fantasies on behalf of Chan Stans and Stay everywhere.
What exactly did he do, you ask? Well, to put it simply (and trust me, this is difficult because Chan is my bias) he broke up with us, tried to accuse us of cheating, but then admitted it was him who had been cheating to then admitting he was playing a simple joke on us and reassured us that he'd never want to do anything to hurt us (bless him, I swear). Who was it? It was Berry. Yes. His dog, Berry. 😒😂
I'm pretty sure non-Chan stans were convinced there was something actually wrong with him due to the number of Tiktoks and Fans posts I personally saw, however, us Chan-biased knew the man was full of shit and was most assuredly pulling some of his usual Chan-coded shenanigans.
In any case, my bestie and twin @ariaphoenix26-blog demanded I post this somewhat random as fuck idea I had yesterday as head canon. So, yeah.
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𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝙼𝙰𝙳
It didn't matter what Chris did, how he said it, or why he did it. The simple fact still remained the same: you could never get mad at him.
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→ Chris is the type of man that if asked, he'd likely do some crazy shit for the person he loves. Walk over hot coals? Sure. Dodge a few bullets? Yeah, no problem. Clean your shared living space, wash and fold laundry, put away dishes and cook dinner last minute? Of course.
→ But ask him to do something like, take out the trash? Well, fuck all of that.
→ And, truthfully, its not because he's incapable. He's exceedingly able to do said task. Its just...well...well he gets really hyper-focused on a task, especially a task he wants to do, it kind of--sort of--slips his mind.
→ And sure, the first few times he tells you this and flashes that thought-paralyzing smile, its suddenly not a big deal and you have no problem taking it out yourself.
→ However, the moment it goes from "a few times" to "too many times", you're suddenly finding yourself overcome with a rather new emotion. At least, when it comes to anything related to Chris.
→ You're big mad. Furious even. And its justifiable! Even Chris would agree with you. He's a grown ass man; he knows better.
→ However, the stars align and the universe conspires against you the morning you do ask him to take it out.
→ You're running late. You have an entirely packed work schedule. You slept for literal shit the night before. Your favorite pair of work pants weren't clean. You didn't have your favorite breakfast yogurt and you had to do mandatory overtime to top it all off.
→ So you ask Chris last minute as you're hastily packing up your work bag to take out the trash before you get home from work later that evening.
→ "Yeah, yeah, of course, beautiful! I'll take care of it." He promises and you believe him. Because in that moment, you don't have the time nor bandwidth to remember to question him about the other times he forgot. So, in your haste, you thank him and plant a kiss on his forehead before dashing out the door for work.
→ Well, see, Chris really did intend to do it. And he even wrote it down on a post-it note that he stuck to the monitor of his computer to remind him. But then he got distracted, watching Stay vlogs on Youtube. And then he got inspired by a mashup of Case 143 and God's Menu that a Stay had made, so he had to mess around in his studio.
→ Then suddenly it was 6:30pm. Chris is the literal physical embodiment of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.
→ Chris hears the door open when you arrive home. And then the subsequent shout of his name. Okay, you're definitely not happy. He's also pretty sure he hears some slamming of somekind, maybe.
→ But it isn't until he hears your little feet stomping down the hall towards his studio door that he cannot help but find you the absolute cutest thing he's ever seen and heard than in this moment.
→ And lets be clear...Chris never invalidates you or dismisses you when you're upset. He just can't help but find it really fucking precious.
→ But you? Well, you're pissed. And you're determined to let his ass know. Because every other time you have been upset with him, he somehow disarms you completely and you immediately forget why you were mad in the first place.
→ Its damn near impossible to be mad at him. I mean, look at him. How can you get mad at that face? You can't, that's why.
→ Anticipating you, Chris is on the other side of his studio door just waiting. And as expected, he hears the all too familiar bang, bang, bang of your fist making contact with the door.
→ You do your best to strengthen your resolve. This time you're gonna give him the people's elbow and really let him have it. He just couldn't keep getting away with this. You know it. He knows it.
→ But that was before he'd opened his door. Well, after your little fists pounded his door, he promptly opened it and looked down at you. His head cocked to the side, one brow lifted as if he has absolutely no clue why you're standing there with your arms crossed, tapping your foot against the hardwood floor while wearing a really pathetic attempt at pure ire.
→ And you were so determined to proverbially throat punch the man, especially after the day you'd had (and to be fair, Chris probably would've let you literally throat punch him if he knew it would make you feel better). But once he opens the door and the scent of his studio and him bum rushes your nostrils, your eyes dart up to his and...and...
→ Well, god fucking damnit.
→ What were you even mad at him for? Why is he looking at you like you're some sort of damsel in distress? Why is he smiling? What's so funny?
→ "CHRISTOPHER!" Is all you can manage, your voice coming out in more of an exasperated whine and definitely not sounding any bit angry.
→ Chris stands there and mirrors you, crossing his arms and leans into the door jam with his head still cocked to the side. One of his dimples is showing and you just know he fucking knows. He knows why you're standing there. And he knows why you're upset. Or, well, you think he knows just based on the way he's looking at you like the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ You release your crossed arms, letting out a very audible huff through your nose as you do and you just stare at him. Blinking wildly, trying to find the resolve you knew you had about 60 seconds ago. But where it went, you haven't a fucking clue. Because he's standing there...just looking at you like you are the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ "Baby?" He finally responds. His voice is calm, suddenly soothing your rattled nerves. You let out yet another huff, but this time its a little less intense and you drop your shoulders.
→ "I hate you. You know that? I'm mad. I'm mad at...you!" You press your finger gently into his chest as you speak, "But...but I can't fucking remember why now because you're looking at me like that and...and...UGH!"
→ Chris knows you had a rough day. He doesn't even need to ask you to know it. He just feels it radiating off of you. So, he cocks his head to the opposite side as you stand there, trying to be mad about something and looking less and less like the raging bull you thought you did and more like a shrieking squirrel.
→ And Chris lets a beat of silence go between the both of you before he simply places each of his hands on either side of your arms and brings you close to him. You hear a soft sigh breach his lips before he leans in and presses a firm, but gentle kiss to your forehead.
→ Yeah, this fucker disarmed you with the forehead kiss this time. Damnit, damnit, damnit.
→ He leans back up, straightening himself upright before giving your arms a gentle squeeze. And he doesn't say anything. His arms fall back to his sides as he resumes his previous stance against the door jam. He's still smiling at you like you are the cutest little creature he's ever seen.
→ You let out one last sigh. Well, the man did it again. And you can't even be mad. Because I mean, look at him. Try being mad at him. Its impossible.
→ You give a shake of your head before spinning on your heels, heading back down the hall towards the kitchen. But you feel Chris' eyes are still on you. And you look back over your shoulder and yep, there those brown little boba eyes are, locked on you.
→ "I'm mad at you. So don't you dare stare at my ass as I walk away from you." You look forward again, but not before you place a hand on each butt cheek in a feeble attempt to block Chris' gaze.
→ And all you hear are his muffled giggles. His absolutely adorable, precious and cute giggles. Fucking shitbird.
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cloverstayy · 3 months
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𝙰𝚁𝚃 → 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴
Similar to God's Menu—the comic book slash lo-fi vibe slash slightly anime aesthetic is just a mood lately. PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU LOVED THIS POST!
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cloverstayy · 3 months
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𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙶 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽: 𝙿𝚃. 다섯
I think this goes without saying, but I think Blonde!Chan is mostly everyone's favorite Chan.
I think I might do Fanmeet!Chan next...
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cloverstayy · 3 months
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𝙰𝚁𝚃 → 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚉𝙴
Thank you all SO much for all the love you showed my last post! 😭
Freeze is probably in my top 5 favorite SKZ songs, so making a poster for it felt almost obligatory. 😂 I did 2 versions: Dirty & Clean, y'know, for those people who have aesthetic differences. The Clean version is behind the cut!
Again, if you liked these, please reblog! Please, please, please! 🥹
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cloverstayy · 3 months
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Helloooooo, may I please request Chan’s reaction to reader having another groups tattoo?
I’m a Chan biased but have a Vernon inspired tattoo on my ribs
Thank you so much for this suggestion, Anon! I've got quite a few tattoos myself, (no SKZ ones...yet) one of them being a Fall Out Boy-related tattoo and I think I'd cackle listening to Pete freak out over me having another band's or group's tattoo. So, I kind of took the humorous route with this one and I hope that's okay! I also hope you enjoy it just as much as I did writing it.
I also apologize for how ridiculously long this got. 😂 I kinda let myself get carried away, but I think those kind of stories are the best anyways!
If you enjoyed this one, please, please reblog! I honestly do a little happy claps when I see anyone reblogging or interacting with my content. All the warm and fuzzies!
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STORY RATING E for everyone.
TYPE Slice of life...I think?
CONTENT WARNING Quite literally nothing to note. Use of explicit language, but tons of comedic humor and just a smidge of fluff!
W/C 6,063
“I can only imagine the photos she took of you, JK.” Chan snorted, leaning his head against his fist which was propped up on several pillows. 
JK stayed quiet for a moment, shaking his head at Chan before something began to develop across his expression, “Let me get back at her.” 
Chan sat up, a bit perplexed at the request JK was propositioning, “What’dya mean?” 
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Chan and you have been dating for the better part of a year and at this point, there isn’t much he hasn’t seen of you.
More than that, he’s asked about almost every single tattoo you have. Its honestly how you both became acquainted, actually. 
He saw your obnoxiously bright dinosaur tattoo from some distance away; making his way over to you and managing to pull one of the smoothest attempts you’d ever seen any man manage to use to get your attention. 
He was clearly successful, for transparency’s sake.
You were on vacation in Australia and enjoying your time beachside. Little did you know, Australia was his home country. There you were, minding your own business while waiting in line for a snow cone when Chan couldn’t help himself whatsoever from full bore running and stopping suddenly behind you in linewhen you immediately became aware of the labored panting of someone standing behind you.
Letting curiosity get the better of you, while still trying to play it off as complete disinterest, you turned slightly around to see a man bent almost in half as his eyes were glued on you. But don’t get it twisted, he wasn’t looking you in the eyes, not yet anyways. He was staring at you, his eyes feeling as though they were transfixed on your left arm.
Glancing around, expecting someone to have been chasing him or something…
Why the hell is this man panting so much?
After assessing your surroundings and realizing no one was actually chasing him, that he for some reason was behind you and panting up a storm like a dog after a run, you felt your brows furrow together before deciding to evaluate this seemingly poor man’s condition.
“Um, are you okay?”
It was only then his eyes snapped up to yours fully when he flashed one hell of a rage-inducing smile in your direction, sliding his hands from his knees and up to his hips as he stood up straight. 
Who does this man think he is smiling like THAT?!
“Yeah, yeah! I’m great. How are you?” 
Sheer confusion must’ve washed over your face as one of your brows pitched upwards, “Are you serious?” 
This man couldn’t get anymore attractive to you at this point, you’re sure of it, but all of a sudden you’re pretty sure you witnessed the heaven’s opening up and the sound of angels began to fill your ears.
Okay, thats a bit of an exaggeration. He was…he was giggling. And he was doing it at you.
“I’m quite serious, actually. You getting a snow cone, too?” 
“I’m in the line, aren’t I?” 
The giggling you still weren’t sure wasn’t the heaven’s choir belting out your new favorite song of the summer, picked up briefly before settling, “You are.” 
Shaking your head a few times, attempting to dislodge whatever spell this man had seemed to put you under, you just blink at him. Several times, “Can I help you with something?” 
There he stood, his stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid laugh. And he just smiled at you again before you saw him quirk his head to the side, raising his eyesight above your head, “Can I get 2 pineapple and cherry snow cones, man?” 
Oh my god. 
Did he just? Yes. Yes, he did indeed step in front of you. And still dazed as you you were, you spun slowly around with your toes digging into the sand and saw that he definitely had ordered for you.
Well, maybe he didn’t. Its entirely possible he ordered 2 for himself. 
How long had you been looking at him like he had 2 heads and a halo?
Couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. But maybe it was longer than that and your turn had actually come up and instead of being vigilant, you waffled and he decided to just step ahead of you?
Amidst the poor attempt at logical reasoning you were facing in lieu of this man’s behavior, the smell of sticky sweet pineapple invaded your senses as you realized he was holding the other snow cone he’d ordered. But he was holding it in your face.
“Um, is that for me?” 
Blinking your way out of disassociation, you glanced at the snow cone held tightly in his hand before looking up to him for confirmation. 
“Sure is. My name is Chan, by the way. Or Chris. I honestly respond by both.” 
Still unsure of what this man’s intentions were, but not above refusing a snow cone that you didn’t actually have to pay for, your hand slowly moved to take the snow cone. 
Hesitantly, you wrapped your fingertips around the bottom part of the paper cone which cradled the sweet treat. Your hand inevitably came into contact with his as you did but…this man wasn’t letting go…not yet, anyways. 
“Name’s Y/n. Is this how you typically pick up the ladies or am I the exception?” 
Regaining your ability to speak and contribute to the conversation, you applied just a bit more force to the snow cone, pulling it out of his grip as he let out another angelic giggle before releasing it.
And the rest is history. Or so they say. 
He asked you about a 100 questions about your tattoos, at least the ones he could see with relative ease as you were wearing an off white sun dress that hit right below your knees. He admitted to you that he’d love to get an entire sleeve of tattoos, but had no idea where to start, but that he was amazed by yours. You were flattered, really.
Of those 100 questions, of course, 2 of them were him asking you on a more formal date and asking for your number. 
Up until this point, you knew Chan had seen all of you. You two had had sex. Showered together. Hell, you two had even cuddled naked together and how the hell had he never, ever noticed this one particular tattoo was beyond you.
You’re still not even certain how you’ve managed to make it an entire year without Chan having at least glimpsed at it. But there he was, arms crossed on the living room sofa, looking at you with one of the most unimpressed and unamused looks he’s ever given you. 
“Christopher.” 
“Y/n.” 
“What do you want me to tell you? I’ve had this tattoo for years. Its not my fault you ever noticed it.”
He huffed out a breath, “You never disclosed it, either.” 
You couldn’t help the bark of a laugh that ripped through you, almost sending you to the floor, “DISCLOSURE?! Christopher, you’ve got to be fucking with me right now.” 
“And what if I’m not?” 
“Then I’d asking you what in the fresh hell is actually wrong with you for being upset with me having a BTS tattoo!” 
If Chan could’ve managed to roll his eyes any further back into his head, you’re pretty sure you would’ve been making a call to the paramedics, fearing that either his retina’s had detached or he was experiencing a seizure. 
“Its not just a BTS tattoo, Y/n.” 
“Roll your eyes at me one more goddamned time or so help me god, Christopher.” 
His expression was so deadpan, you were certain he’d end up turning to stone with his appearance. 
“It’s not just a BTS tattoo, Y/n.” He repeated, doubling down by readjusting his crossed arms and exchanging his man-spread position on the loveseat to throwing one leg over the other. 
“This is because its about JK, isn’t it? Did he tease you about this or something?” 
His eyes widened, “Why would he tease me about your tattoo, Y/n?!” 
Oops. 
You may or may not have told Chan about the time you had met BTS years and years ago while working at a HYBE event prior to and most certainly before knowing Chan or even Stray Kids existed. 
And you most definitely did not tell him about the fact that you ended up working for BTS a few summers after having met them, doing event coordination for HYBE. And you were positive you never even mentioned to Chan that you got the tattoo as apart of a dare that you dared JK with. The means by which you managed to coerce JK into getting said tattoo was the embarrassing part.
It had never come up in conversation as he had clearly never noticed the tattoo you had on the inside of your right ring finger. Yes, it was small. But so was JK’s. 
Yeah. He most assuredly had no clue JK also had a tattoo that was very similar to the one you had, but also different. 
“Y/n…why would JK tease me about your tattoo?” He repeated, his arms slowly uncrossing themselves as he propped himself off the back of the couch with his hands. 
“Uh…I-uh…Ihonestlyhavenoidea?” You presented him with your best attempt at a shit eating grin as you could muster, choosing to slowly make your way to the armchair that sat opposite of the loveseat. 
“Should I just call JK?” 
There it was. The threat followed by the growing smirk bubbling across his face as he began to formulate the beginnings of how this tattoo made it’s way to your finger. 
“Oh gosh, Chris, no! You don’t have to do that!” You smiled again, placing both of your elbows on your knees as you threw your head into your hands and leaned forward into his space. 
“No?” He’d managed to shift all the way to the edge of the loveseat’s cushion before he began to lean into your space. 
“Nope.” You squeaked out as you began to slowly find yourself sitting back up, your hands removing themselves from under your chin as your back straightened. 
“Y/n…don’t lie to me.” 
“Chris, this is silly! It’s just a silly little tattoo.” 
Clearing his throat, he stood on his feet and looked down at you. You had to crane your head upwards to meet his glance, feeling all the bits of unease and panic he was forcing you to feel. 
Please do not call JK. Please do not call JK.
You kept uttering that phrase like it was some sort of new age mantra; repeating it over and over inside your head and hoping to whatever creator out there that Chan could hear you. 
You fucking knew he couldn’t. 
Like an 80’s montage but without the cheesy music and all the slow-motion action you could tolerate, Chan pulled his phone from his back pocket. And suddenly, the fast forward button had been activated as the speed with which he dialed JK was similar to that of a cheetah securing dinner for the evening. 
“Chris! Come on, baby. It is not that serious! Had I known you were going to react like this, I would’ve said something a LONG time ago!” You pleaded, jumping to your feet and wrapping your arms around his waist. 
He only glanced down at you before you heard the click of the other line and JK’s voice came through the speaker, “Yo, Chris! What’s up man?” 
Chan cocked an eyebrow as he took his free arm and wrapped it around your waist, all but securing your body against him as he spoke, “Hey JK! Nothing much. I’ve got a question for you.” 
A choked whimper was suddenly caught in your throat as you all but slammed your head into Chris’ chest, more or less embarrassed at the story he would be told about the origins of this stupid tattoo and less worried he’d be actually upset with you. 
“What’s up, man?” 
“Do you happen to know a Y/n L/n?” 
There was a brief moment of silence and what sounded like shuffling of some kind on JK’s end, “Yeah…yeah, I do. Wait, why do you ask?” 
Chan’s eyes looked down at you once again. He placed a perfunctory kiss to the top of your head because he couldn’t manage to make eye contact with your face to place one on your forehead. It was still pressed firmly to his chest as you now tried to wriggle out of his grasp. 
“Well, she’s my girlfriend and…” Chan was cut off almost immediately by JK. 
“Woah! Girlfriend?! You’re dating Y/n-ah? Bro, how long?” 
“Just a little over a year. I love her to absolute bits.” He spoke, his voice just above a whisper as he leaned his head down so his lips would brush right against your ear while he spoke. This said whisper rattled you way more than it should have, but you knew that was the sole purpose of Chan doing it in the first place.
“Christopher, I swear to god. Please. Don’t.” Your words were so muffled and you knew Chan couldn’t understand you, but he began to giggle. The same fucking giggle that reminded you of Baby Jesus and Holy Hymns and Angels and shit. 
“Congrats, man! She’s awesome. She worked for us for a bit!” 
Chan’s arm only tightened around your midsection as you acquiesced to his grip, slowly coming to terms with the fact that he would soon hold the exceedingly mortifying knowledge of how you obtained the very tattoo in question in just mere moments. 
“Oh, you don’t say!” He quipped, slowly turning the both of you in a circle by means of swaying side to side. 
“Yeah! We met her forever ago through an event HYBE was holding and she ended up doing some event coordination stuff for us for about a year or two. She was fucking phenomenal. She doing okay? Why’d you ask?” JK’s tone sounded equal parts concerned and confused. 
“Well, if I happened to say something about a tattoo, would that ring any bells?” 
And with that, the loudest and most obnoxious laugh tore through the speaker as JK broke out into a fit of laughter, which only caused Chan to all but pick you up with the arm wrapped around you. 
However, JK quickly managed to calm himself before you were actually lifted off the floor, “Oh man. Yeah, yeah that rings a bell. Why?” 
“Well, you know she’s got a lot of tattoos…” Chris pauses, awaiting confirmation from JK.
“Of course.” 
“And somehow, that little tattoo never managed to come up in conversation in the last year or so and well, today it has and I’m just curious about it. Y/n isn’t being as forthcoming about it as I’d imagined she would be.” 
“Well, that makes sense that she hasn’t been,” He let out another brief laugh,” Is she there with you right now?” 
Chan looked down at you, realizing that you had readjusted your head to keep your eyes on him, the pleading expression remaining permanently affixed on your face. The look he presented you with, however, was expectant one. And he expected you to answer. 
“Hey JK.” You squawked, pressing your forehead against Chan’s chest once again. 
“Y/n-ah! I had no idea you were dating Chan-ssi!”
“Well you know me, so good at keeping those secrets!” 
Chan squeezed you tighter as your eyes shot up to meet his, brows furrowing together. The force of his constant entrapment finally caused you to mouth the word “ouch” to him.
———
THE DAY PRIOR…
“Hey man, long time no see!” JK greeted Chan, bringing the other into his embrace via their joined hands, but only briefly before they broke apart just as quickly. 
“Oh, it hasn’t been that long, has it?” Chan pondered, questioning whether it had really been longer than he had remembered since he saw JK last. 
JK nodded, taking a seat on his couch, throwing his body against it and suggesting Chan take a seat in the couch opposite him. 
Chan obliged, pulling his keys and phone from his back pocket before doing so. However, once seated, he too fell backwards, allowing his back to meet the soft, plushy fabric of the couch as he settled in. 
“Its been,” JK paused, one eye squinting in thought before it popped open, “At least 6 months.” 
“6 months!” Chan chirped, grabbing the water bottle that had been set out for him. The sound of the plastic lid coming apart from the seal cracked under his palm as JK hummed in affirmation. 
“Yep, I mean, we’ve definitely talked since then but we haven’t properly hung out in a while. Dude, how have you been? You and the kids are killing it out there! I’m so proud!” JK smiled, his lip ring catching the shine of the overhead track lighting. 
Chan palmed the back of his neck, only slightly embarrassed at the compliment while briefly grabbing one ear before placing his water back on the living room table, “Ah man. Thanks. The kids work so hard, they deserve it.” 
JK shook his head, “You all deserve it. That includes you, Chan-ssi.” His eyes focused in on Chan, encouraging him to not argue in defiance of JK’s compliment. 
“I appreciate that. We all work hard.” 
JK glanced at Chan, a smirk crossing his lips before responding, “So, how are you and Y/n? I still cannot believe you snagged her.” 
Chan couldn’t help the small chuckle that bubbled up from his chest, the mere thought of you still gave him butterflies and made him nervous. How had he managed to snag you was still a mystery to him, but he was so thankful for you regardless. He tried not to make much sense of it because when he attempted to do so, he often found himself perplexed for hours, comparing and contrasting almost every detail of the last year and a half of your courting and the subsequent official ascension of the relationship. 
JK, surprisingly, had also been one of the first ones Chan had told about you. Well, of course after he talked with Lee Know and Changbin, who after meeting you only one time, were convinced you were the person Chan would eventually marry and only encouraged him to continue seeing you. Chan would hush them every time they made those comments, not wanting to even put that jinx out into the universe. Of course, he would want to make you his forever, but he knew the both of you needed just a bit more time together as boyfriend and girlfriend before he even thought about asking you to be his wife. 
“She’s fantastic,” The words left Chan a bit airy, almost as though he was describing how you managed to make him feel on a daily basis, “ We are doing great. She’s always challenging me and the kids, but is great at helping me decompress and she’s so, so creative. And well, utterly fucking beautiful.” 
JK smiled again, though his lips stayed softly pressed together before he spoke, “She’s good for you. I can see the difference.” 
Chan’s gaze shot up from his feet, where they had been planted while he spoke about you, “Really?” 
JK adjusted his position, throwing his legs over the edge of the couch as his feet firmly pressed against the stone flooring of his apartment, sitting up and leaning against the back as he did. 
“Yeah. You just have this air about you dude. You come across way less…encumbered with the weight of quite literally everything. Which, I suppose makes sense,” JK winked in Chan’s direction, “You’re not carrying it all yourself anymore.” 
Chan took a moment to really think about JK’s words and his gut response was to say that he was still the same old Chan he was before he met you. But, just as quickly as that impulsive assessment flew into his brain, it flew right out and was replaced with the knowledge that he was finally sharing the weight of life with…you. And sure, he let the kids carry some of the weight from time to time, but never wanted them to ever feel quite the same pressures he faced. He was the leader, after all, and that was his responsibility. But once you walked into his life, or rather he ran up to your’s, the weight eventually didn’t seem as heavy as it once did. And maybe that’s what JK really meant. 
Chan’s face had softened in thought, his eyes casting downwards once again as JK let a brief chuckle slice through the comfortable silence between the two men, “I mean look at you, dude. You’re head over fucking heels for this one. When’s the wedding?” 
JK always knew how to really wind Chan up, always saying just the kinds of things that would be only slightly out of pocket, but would still manage to make Chan flustered-or annoyed-depending on the context. 
“Dude, shut the fuck up. Its too early for that.” Chan threw a pillow at JK, who easily caught it with another laugh. 
“Just make sure I get an invite, yeah?” 
Chan rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Of course you’ll get an invite, you ass.” 
Both the boys laughed, sharing a moment of silence together before Chan was quickly reminded of something he wanted to ask JK about, “Y’know, that reminds me of something I wanted to ask you about.” 
JK perked up, “Alright. Hit me.” 
“So Y/n has this tattoo on the inside of her finger…on her right hand and I’m almost certain its the only one she’s never told me about. I remember seeing it one night when we were watching a movie on the couch. I was holding her hand and saw it and realized that it looked awfully familiar to one I’d seen before.” 
Chan took a sip of water before continuing, “I know you have something to do with this. So spill.” 
The almost instantaneous laugh that ripped from JK was jarring, causing Chan’s face to contort into a mixture of amusement and intense curiosity. 
Without missing a beat, JK leaned over the small distance between him and the coffee table, offering Chan a glimpse at the ring finger on his left hand, “Yeah, I know a thing or two about it.” 
Chan’s eyes focused in, brows pinching together while he really studied the small banana peel tattoo JK donned, “She’s got the banana.” 
Chan said it so matter of factly, not only because it was quite literally a matter of fact, but because it was so innocuous but also just really weird. Weird to the point that it drove Chan to to even ask JK about it in the first place.
“So she worked for us for almost 2 years, right?” JK inquired. 
Chan nodded his head, remaining silent. 
“Well, during that time she did mostly event coordination for us. So like, red carpet events, tour and hotel stuff, comebacks…all of that kind of stuff,” JK ran his hands through the mop of brown hair on his head, “Well, she also helped with the variety shows we do, but specifically the BTS one’s we did for Weverse and HYBE.” 
Chan signaled understanding, the look of amusement and curiosity only growing as JK continued. 
“We did this one show, and I can’t remember the exact details or…what the premise was now, but I was dressed up as a monkey.” 
Chan couldn’t help the boisterous cackle that slipped out of his lips, his hand immediately flying over his mouth at the thought of JK dressed up as a monkey, “A monkey?!”
It was JK’s turn to roll his eyes at Chan, looking at him through his brows, “Yeah. A monkey.” 
Chan was gasping for breath at this point, the mere thought of JK in such a predicament only creating a place just for this image in his brain to live rent free. JK, having finally tolerated enough of Chan’s squeaky laughter, threw a pillow at him and landed it square across Chan’s face. 
Chan flew backward a bit, caught off guard by the sudden feeling of fabric against his face. Chan caught the pillow and slammed it down across his lap as he forced himself to calm, realizing JK was waiting on him so he could continue, “Alright, alright. You can continue.” 
JK shook his head, “Well, a few days after we had done the recording for that episode, I came to find out it was her entire idea. Like, I’m talking the entire premise for the skit from start to finish. She even had me eating a fucking banana, bro.” 
Chan stifled the laughter that was threatening to spill, realizing that he didn’t want to be assaulted by anymore couch cushions, “That sounds so much like Y/n.” 
JK nodded, “Yeah. Well, when she found out I found out, I couldn’t stop giving her shit for it. It went on for months. At one point, I was calling her my Little Capuchin.” 
Chan’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he threw his head back and finally allowed the laugh he was trying to suppress to come out. He threw both arms over his face as he let his head fall to the back of the couch’s edge. After a few moments, and after the heaving of Chan’s chest began to return to baseline, it was only then he sat back up, ruffling his hair before running both of his hands over his face, “So, the tattoo. How, how in the hell did that come about?” 
It was only then JK finally let out a brief fit of laugher himself, “A dare.” 
Chan’s eyes narrowed in on the man sat across from him, “A dare?” 
JK nodded, “It was close to her end with us as she was leaving HYBE to go do work elsewhere and we were all a little bit,” JK held up his pointer and thumb, almost pressing them together to exaggerate that they were the opposite of a little bit, “Drunk. It was then I suggested we get tattoos to signify not only the end of her time working with us, but one that would also make her laugh any time she looked at it. But Chan, when I tell you she was tipsy as hell, I’m honestly not exaggerating.” 
Chan had only heard the stories you’d told him about your time in college, driving several frat houses under the table, but he was certain you’d not divulged this particular piece of information about how you managed to acquire a banana tattoo.
He also knew that your days of drinking had come to an abrupt end once you began work in Korea freshly out of college, often times traveling back and forth to the states doing so. You soon realized mixing drinking of any kind and jet lag were things that should never go together. Fuck that, you’d told him. So, you only chose to drink on very, very rare occasions and only times when you knew you’d not be on a intercontinental flight. 
JK, noticing Chan’s slight confusion decided to provide a bit more clarification, “Let me preface that by saying, we were having a dinner celebration. Kind of like a send off. She’d only had 3 drinks, but for some reason they hit her hard.” 
Chan nodded, feeling a bit more clued in to the context of the situation, “So, it was a dare?” 
JK shook his head, “Yeah, kinda sorta? I mean, I was drunk, too. But I remember that I kept calling her Little Capuchin the entire evening and I also remember RM threatening to slap me if I wouldn’t stop.” 
JK shook his head, a smile blooming across his face briefly at the memory before he resumed, “I’m pretty sure it was just her and I that ended up going to see my artist because he was still in his shop late at night. I remember standing there with her in the parlor, debating with her on what to get when she basically shouted that we should get bananas.” 
Both Chan and JK erupted in laughter, agreeing that the entire situation most definitely sounded like you. 
JK took a sip of his water and set it back down on the living room table, “I told her I wasn’t going to get a banana tattooed on me and she dared me.” 
Chan held up his hand, waving it about to signal JK to pause, “Hold on. So she dared you?” 
JK confirmed with a quick nod, “Yup. And if I didn’t, she told me she’d post all the behind the scenes photos of us, including me in that monkey outfit, on Weverse. I balked at her but she told me HYBE had given her explicit permission to do whatever she wanted with the photos, even before the episode released. She took some real stupid photos of me, Chan.” 
JK palmed his forehead, shaking his head in the pithiest way possible before looking back up at Chan, “So there I was, getting a banana peel tattoo because she insisted I was the peel to her banana.” 
“I can only imagine the photos she took of you, JK.” Chan snorted, leaning his head against his fist which was propped up on several pillows. 
JK stayed quiet for a moment, shaking his head at Chan before something began to develop across his expression, “Let me get back at her.” 
Chan sat up, a bit perplexed at the request JK was propositioning, “What’dya mean?” 
“She doesn’t think you know a thing about this tattoo, right? Well, after she’d sobered up and I told her she basically blackmailed me into getting it, she was honestly mortified. She wouldn’t stop apologizing. It was only after I told her she was fine no less than 10 times and I wasn’t bothered in the slightest that she  finally decided to listen to me, but I know the whole thing still embarrasses the shit out of her. And thats probably why she’s never told you about it. Its small and she just assumes you’ve not noticed it yet, I bet.” JK explained, offering a very valid reason for Chan to agree to his request. 
“I mean, sounds entirely reasonable why she hasn’t then. So, what’s your idea?” 
———
Chan leaned down, pressing a curt peck on the tip of your nose as you were now unable to smash your face into his chest.
“So, she hasn’t told you about the tattoo?” JK’s voice trilled through the phone still snug in Chan’s hand. 
“Nope, sure hasn’t.” Chan’s less than impressed expression fell to you again, after he brought you down with him against the couch. You both fell against it with soft grunts, him forcing you to basically sit glued to his side. 
“Ugh! Do you both have to do this to me right now? Its just a stupid tattoo!” You bellowed, trying your best to turn inwards towards Chan to hide your face in any capacity you could. 
Both of the men began to laugh, almost in tandem. Almost like they both knew something you didn’t. Your suspicions only grew when Chan’s hold of you began to lessen to the point you were able to turn inwards and watch his face. 
He had set his phone down on the coffee table in front of you both, his face was red from laughter and slightly wet from the rather amused tears that quickly followed. You could only assume JK looked exceeding similar to the way your boyfriend did in that very moment. 
You sat up, straightening your posture and looked between the phone and your boyfriend several times before you realized the both of them were playing some sort of something with you still. 
“I cannot believe you two.” It was your turn to roll your eyes so hard, certain your retinas would detach as you scooted a few inches away from Chan and crossed your own arms. 
Chan heaved in a large amount of air, hearing what you said during the brief pause in both his and JK’s laughter that he turned to look at you. He noticed the considerable distance you had managed to make down the couch away from him as his laughter began to quell, JK’s soon followed suit. 
“Oh Little Capuchin, don’t be upset!” JK guffawed, himself being taken over by laughter once again. You glanced over to Chan, an eyebrow raised, and it was ever apparent he was suppressing additional laughter himself. 
“Fuck you, JK.” You felt the heat of embarrassment flood your face; your cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson at the pet name you’d not heard in so long. 
“Aw, c’mon! You’re the banana to my peel!” He quipped, Chan only sporting one hell of an tickled expression. 
“I’m fucking done with you, two,” Your brows leveled in Chan’s direction, “You knew, didn’t you? He told you when you two hung out yesterday, didn’t he?” 
Chan only shrugged, a massive grin appearing on his lips, “I mean, we might’ve discussed it?”
“Bahng Christopher Chan! Jeon Jun-Kook! You both are menaces and I hate you both!” You stuck your nose up towards the ceiling, turning a quarter of the way away from Chan with your arms tightly crossed into one another. 
The boys continued their dumb giggling, Chan only taking just shy of a few more minutes before you heard him hang up the phone. The soft thud of his phone settling on the table was heard next, followed by the feeling of the couch dipping slightly behind you. 
Chan positioned himself behind you, pressing his chest to your back as his arms meandered their way around your midsection. His angular chin found purchase between your neck and shoulder before he spoke. 
“Baby girl, I knew you had that tattoo months and months ago. I had a feeling JK knew something about it because I remembered he had a very similar one to yours. I did ask him about it yesterday and he told me everything.” 
His words vibrated against your collarbone as he spoke and without any warning, his hold on you tightened as he fell backwards against the couch, pulling you on top of him still with your back against his chest. Instinctually, feeling like you were going to fall, you threw your hands out in a feeble attempt to catch yourself, but you weren’t falling. Chan had a strong hold of you. 
You let out a massive sigh, your chest pressing against the strength of Chan’s arms as you did before you broke the silence, “This is so fucking uncomfortable, Christopher.” You couldn’t help the exceptionally minuscule grin that began to creep its way through the hardened expression you were trying to maintain. 
“Well, seeing you genuinely embarrassed over something you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about is uncomfortable to me, baby girl.” He stated plainly, like this was a fact you should’ve known from Day 1. 
You turned your head towards his, which was now nestled into the spot between his neck and shoulder, your faces met briefly before you turned it back to look up at the ceiling, “God forbid.” 
Chan’s embrace stiffened as he applied a bit more pressure to your midsection, causing you to yelp out a large puff of air. 
The sound that emanated from you caused the both of you to erupt in your own fit of mindless cackling, “What kind of sound was that?!” 
Chan couldn’t help the yell of a laugh that flew from him as he managed to sit the both of you up on his lap, your hands bracing on either sides of his arms at the rather uncoordinated effort. Successful, nonetheless. 
“You squeezed the air out of me, Christopher!” You giggled, gently slapping the hand he had pressed against your abdomen. 
“I am sorry, baby girl! You okay?” He peppered a few kisses against your shoulder before placing one on your cheek. 
“I’m okay, Chris,” You paused as you wiggled your way off of his lap to sit next to him, though you left your legs draped over his knees, “You really got me going there for a second.” 
He brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, placing a few behind your ear, “Well, you set it up pretty well, baby. Walked right into it, even.” 
You rolled your eyes, not severely as last time and definitely lined with way more sarcasm that before, “Let me guess, it was JK’s idea?” 
59 notes · View notes
cloverstayy · 3 months
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𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃
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𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚂 & 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 → CLICK HERE
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𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙼:
𝙽𝙲𝟷𝟾 - under 18? GTFO. shit is filthy, ok? 𝚁 - you might need an adult. idfk. 𝙿𝙶𝟷𝟹 - grab a friend who’s fucking older than you, jesus.  𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙴 - rated E for everyone, duh.
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𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂
NEVER THE BIG MAD. → ᴄʜᴀɴ EVERYONE
𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚃𝚂 
WOLFISH → ᴄʜᴀɴ EVERYONE
LITTLE CAPUCHIN → ᴄʜᴀɴ EVERYONE
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𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 
PART 1  
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cloverstayy · 3 months
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𝙰𝚁𝚃 → 𝙶𝙾𝙳'𝚂 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚄
I'm having so much fun making SKZ-themed posters. Please reblog if you enjoyed it! I'd cry happy tears.
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cloverstayy · 3 months
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𝚆𝙾𝙻𝙵𝙸𝚂𝙷 ⇢ 𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡&𝘺/𝘯
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First off, thank you so much Anon for suggesting this absolutely adorable idea! And if you've got an endless supply of them, go ahead and send 'em my way! I'll make a list.
That being said, I honestly had a lot of fun making this one. I have an 8-year-old little boy, so I kind of got to relive that time during my pregnancy. I hope I did your suggestion justice and you enjoy it! If you read this, thank you. Please reblog to share as it honestly makes me insanely happy when others can enjoy my work!
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STORY RATING E for everyone.
TYPE husband!chan and wife!y/n, slice of life
CONTENT WARNING Brief use of explicit language at the end, otherwise absolutely NOTHING besides a ton of fluff!
W/C 2,160
“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said the item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby."
“Y/n?” 
My attention bounced from the phone in my hands over to the nurse straddling the doorway directly between the main waiting area and exam rooms. She clutched a clipboard close to her chest as her eyes leveled with my own, a soft smile blooming across her face in greeting.
“Chris, babe, c’mon. That’s us.�� 
My fingertips grazed his bicep, having quickly traveled down to his forearm to deliver a placid squeeze. 
Chris’ eyes sought mine as an shallow hum resounded from his chest; the palm of his hand asserted the gentlest of guiding pressures against my lower back as we both made our way to the waiting nurse. 
———
“Alright, Y/n. I’ll have you hop up here,” The nurse gestured with a nod in the direction of the the exam chair. “How’s your first trimester been so far?” 
I padded towards said chair, positioning my body so my behind was pressed flush against the chair’s edge. I planted a palm on either side of my hips and hoisted myself up the rest of the way, “Ah, well, y’know…its been an experience, I’ll say that much.” 
A seasoned hum bristled from the nurse, who had already started to prepare the sonographer’s machine. The quiet click, click, clack of the mechanical keyboard filled the room as she navigated through several menus before locating the correct patient file. 
“This is your first, right?” Her head moved to make eye contact, however her body maintained it’s station as her hands continued to fly across the keys. 
The nurse paused, her focus dialed into me as I acknowledged with an affirmative hum. 
Her head returned to it’s previous position as she flipped through several more menus, logging updated numbers for my vitals, “Well, I’d say calling it an experience is quite accurate! You both excited to find out the gender?”
Noticing Chris had become distracted on his phone, presumably answering something important, I gently nudged his elbow with my foot to capture his attention. 
His eyes flitted upwards, darting between the nurse and myself as a sheepish smile painted his features. Chris readjusted in the chair directly adjacent to the exam chair, sliding his phone into his back pocket before responding, “I have been counting down the days. Between myself, Y/n and my bandmates, its an even split.” 
Having completed the prep work for the sonographer, the nurse swiveled on her heels as she faced the both of us, “Well, good thing you there is a 50/50 chance someone is right. Though, I’ve gotta know, what are mom and dad hoping for?” 
Sharing the same braincell and without missing a beat, Chris and I responded in tandem, “Girl.” 
———
“Alright, Y/n, I’m going to take a view measurements and make sure everything is growing the way its supposed to and that everything is in its correct place. So I may get quiet for a moment, but after I’m done, the we will do the exciting part, yeah?” The sonographer clarified as she pulled a pair of latex gloves from an overhead cubby near the machine’s monitor. 
Drawing in a gulp of air, I signaled my understanding with a brief nod of my head, “Take all the time you need! Baby’s health is way more important, of course.” 
She flashed me a brief smile before she spun her chair back into position to face the sonogram’s display, promptly sliding her finger over the probe’s ON/OFF switch to the on position. As she held the probe in one hand, she grabbed hold of the conduction gel and tilted it upside down before giving it a few solid shakes to shift the settled gel to the open end. 
“This might be cold, I’m sorry!” 
Her fingers gingerly squeezed the bottle as it dispersed in a little blob near my belly button. She oriented the bottle upright and returned it back to the slot in the sonogram machine, she then touched the probe to my tummy. The probe passed over my skin from belly button to slightly below the top of my underwear before the clicks of the keyboard indicated the input of data. 
Approximately 10 minutes passed, the whirring of the machine kicking up a notch anytime the sonographer captured a particular angle to get a better measurement, before she turned to face Chris and I.
“Well, good news is Baby Bahng is growing right along schedule and looks absolutely perfect. Baby's length is around the 75th percentile for gestation, but I’m not too entirely worried about that as getting super accurate measurements when they’re still this little is a bit harder, especially length. Are there any questions you have about this part?” 
“Chris?” I broke eye contact with her to make my own with his, whose eyes were transfixed on the sonogram display during the duration of the sonographer’s exam, “If he doesn’t, I don’t.” 
“As long as my little pumpkin is happy and healthy, I don’t have any questions.” His eyes connected with the sonographer’s as they upturned in pure pride. 
She met his response with a perfunctory nod, “Alright. Let’s see if we’ve got a girl or a boy, shall we?” 
“Absolutely.” Chris’s reaffixed his gaze to the monitor, his words near imperceptible, but laced with such anticipation awaiting the sonographer’s findings. 
I sensed the sudden warmth of Chris’ palm, pressed firmly right above my kneecap, as his fingers compressed into the sides of my leg in a secure grasp. I untucked the hand nearest Chris, my fingertips finding the security of his free hand. Without so much as a twitch, our hands interlaced and fingers slotted together. 
“Alright, let me zoom in just a bit here…” She paused, leaning towards the monitor to get a better view before clicking the mouse to magnify a bit closer, “Yep. Thought so. Congratulations to the both of you! You will be welcoming Baby Girl Bahng…in give or take about 6 months. Let me get some pictures printed for you both.” 
She lifted the probe from my growing bump, wiping and sanitizing clean the probe’s transducer before slotting it back into it’s holder. While she took a moment to toss her gloves in the bin directly under the sonogram desk, she handed me a cloth to wipe up any remaining gel she missed during clean up. Her chair softly creaked as she swiftly returned to her chair and begin printing sonogram photos for Chris and I. 
Upon hearing the words Baby Girl Bahng, Chris and I made eye contact. And so much was said without saying anything at all. 
“A girl…” I breathed, the grip with Chris’ hand only strengthening. 
“A girl.” He spoke so resolutely, and rightfully so. But it was in more ways than just having been told so. From the moment I had told him I was pregnant, he emanated this entirely new type of confidence in virtually everything from handling the ebb and flow of my emotions to the rather normal or insanely bizarre nature of my cravings. And never, not once, did he question his ability in becoming a father. 
But in this moment, it was like that confidence only amplified upon itself—wholly unwavering in any capacity whatsoever after hearing the news that we were  going to be having a girl. It was in moments like these I was reminded that falling in love with him was quite possibly one of the easiest things I’d ever done. 
———
“Lemme get the door for you, baby.” Chris’ feet shuffled towards the car door, his hand gripped the underside of the handle as he pulled upwards so he could usher me inside. 
As I situated myself in the passenger seat, I wrestled the seatbelt from behind my shoulder and adjusted the lap portion under my bump. Chris’ door opened and he begun to settle into the driver’s side just as I clicked the belt into place. 
“I already know the answer to this question, but I’m going to ask it anyways,” Chris slotted the key into the ignition as he placed his hand on the gear shift, throwing it into reverse before resuming his query, “How does a strawberry cheesecake concrete sound right about now?” 
“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby. Can we snag some salt and vinegar chips, too?” 
Chris guffawed at the request, already knowing that any answer other than yes would be the wrong one, “Of course, baby girl, we can definitely do that. Y’know, I was talking with Jihyo the other day. The topic of your cravings came up.” 
“Oh? Tell me more.” 
“Well, the ice cream and chips weren’t anything out of the ordinary to her at all. Those are rather timid in comparison,” Chris shifted his focus to me briefly, flashing one of his perspicacious glances in my direction, “It was the…weird and absurd ones that she honestly got a kick out of.” 
“Oh god, Chris. What did you tell her?” I whinged, bringing the palm of my head to my forehead in preemptive embarrassment. 
“Remember that time you sent me out at like 2am because you demanded salt and vinegar chips?”
“Oh Jesus Christ, yes I do.” 
That wasn’t the only thing I demanded, though. 
“Yeah, but then you demanded marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers because you absolutely required those items to make ‘salty s’mores’ and if you didn’t get those items, you were going to—and I quote—‘expire’.” Chris couldn’t help the goofy smile that surged across his face. 
“Listen. Those were absolutely delicious and I’ll die on that hill.” I crossed my arms over one another as I feigned some kind of weak attempt at indignation. 
“Hey! I never said they weren’t. I tried one, remember? I thought they were tasty.” 
“I forgot I made you try them, now that you mention it.” I let out a soft chuckle, “What else? I know that wasn’t the only one you mentioned.” 
Another boisterous giggle filled the car, “Well, I definitely mentioned the very specific ice chips you like from your favorite restaurant and the spicy buldak ramen you’ve been eating almost every day. But I think the kimchi with any kind of sour candy you can manage to get your hands on or the recent habit of putting ketchup on quite literally anything is what managed to really baffle her.” 
“You did not tell her about the kimchi and sour candy.” I winced, throwing my head back against the headrest. 
“Oh hell yes I did. How could I leave that one out?” Chris’ voice dripped with a amusement, finding my reaction to be almost as funny as the craving itself. 
“I cannot believe you,” I shook my head. “Hold on, what did you tell her I was putting ketchup on because I know how ridiculously you can exaggerate.” 
“I left the obvious ones out, of course. That just seemed pointless. But, I told her about the scrambled eggs and macaroni and cheese,” Chris paused, his eyes taking in the lilt of my brows as he pulled into the parking lot of our favorite ice cream parlor. “But I might have mentioned you also like it on kimchi, dipping egg rolls in it…that fried rice Minho makes…I did mention tacos and sometimes, but not always, the buldak ramen. I think that was it.” 
The expression that overtook my face was nothing short of deadpan, “I’m going to end you, Christopher.”  
Once the car was in park, Chris erupted in laughter, “You’ll do no such thing. You love me.” 
I rolled my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose between my pointer and index fingers, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” 
The laughs quickly progressed from general light-heartedness to Chris’ signature squeaking-laughs, only wavering in intensity as he continued to intake air. 
“Stop laughing at me!” I shrieked, my hand unknowingly making contact with his shoulder. 
“Oh baby girl,” his laughs halted as he took the hand I thumped him with in his, “Jihyo found it absolutely weird, yes, but also completely endearing. As do I. Endearing that is. You’re growing a whole damn human. You have every right in the world to eat the most eccentric food combinations you want and do so as you damn well please. And I will procure those concoctions whenever you ask.” 
Once again, despite feeling a wee bit ridiculed for my rather odd pregnancy cravings and the subsequent winding up I received for it, Chris always had this proclivity for knowing just what to say when he could sense even an inkling that I might become upset. This sense only seemed to intensify since becoming pregnant. Add yet another reason why choosing to love him was the most effortless commitment I could’ve made. 
“C’mon. Lets get inside and order you that ice cream, yeah?”  
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cloverstayy · 3 months
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#𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 ⤏ 𝖎𝖓 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖘
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