lazyfacecowboy - Tumblr blog

lazyfacecowboy · 7 hours ago

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Thanks for the tag! First time doing one of these lol. I'm a baby STAY, an new to Kpop in general, so sorry if I answer weird!

1: What’s your current bias line?

Uuuhhh, Changbin, Han, And I think Lee Know (He's been grabbing my attention lately)

2: Who’s the one that made you Stan?

Felix. I saw a youtube short of him and was like 'is this ai?' I looked into him, and the rest is history

3: What song was your first?

I think Fam from youtube shorts, but either LALALALA or Case 143 for a full song I listened to

4: What’s your current favorite song?

Social Path

5: What members personally resembles yours the most?

Probably either Han or Seungmin. It depends on the day

6: If you had to pick a specific racha which would you choose?

3RACHA!!! Lol, I was in Colorado with my sisters right after I became a STAY, and this one Siracha commercial kept coming on when we were watching tv, and my non-kpop stan sisters had to put up with me taking about them, and the rest of the boys, everytime it came on

7: What’s one attribute of the members do you like the most? (Example: Chans dimples)

Bin's arms. We love a big strong man. Also Han's hair, so fluffy

8: What’s your favorite album?

Rockstar or SKZ-Replay

9: Do you have any albums?

No :(

10: Have you been to a concert?

Noooooooo. I was going to go next year, but none are in my state, and I don't have funds for out of state

11: Who’s your favorite duo?

Asthetically? Hyunlix. For fun? Either Hyunbin or Minsung

12: Favorite cover/solo songs:

All I Want For Christmas Is You from that one concert, and Alien

13: Favorite SKZOO?

uhm.........Wolfchan or Leebit. Love Leebit's cooky smirk

14: If you had a day with one member what would you wanna do with them?

It depends on the member and comfort levels (I am not comfortable are people I just meet) But probably walking around the outside or inside mall, or if they are willing to take a drive, the outlet mall out there in my state. Unless weather permitting, then a hike <3

15: Who’s your favorite singing voice?

Han's been my favorite, but Chan's voice has been popping out so much to me lately

16: Who’s your favorite to watch dance?

I.N. or Lee Know

17: Do you have a favorite SKZ Code?

Uhm, I don't know yet? I think the ones where they are in a family together, or they are pretending to do the whole dating reality tv is really funny, but I don't think I've watched enough of them to form a correct opinon (I need to watch all of them)

18: Favorite MV?

LALALALA. There is so much going on, and I love it. I Believe that was also my first M/V

19: Who do you think you’d be best friends with?

Chan or Lee Know. They seem like the kind of people that can put up with someone with varying levels of energy on a day to day basis

20: Let’s feed those delusions, Who are you picking for a date and what are you doing?

If age doesn't matter? (I.N. is 5 years older than me) I think Felix or Han. And either a coffee shop, or hot cocoa and ice skating.

.·:*¨ 𝑮𝒆𝒕 𝑻𝒐 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 ¨*:·.

20 Questions for my fellow Stays!

Making a little tag game because I love them and I’m nosy tbh. I also just love interacting with yall!

1: What’s your current bias line?

2: Who’s the one that made you Stan?

3: What song was your first?

4: What’s your current favorite song?

5: What members personally resembles yours the most?

6: If you had to pick a specific racha which would you choose?

7: What’s one attribute of the members do you like the most? (Example: Chans dimples)

8: What’s your favorite album?

9: Do you have any albums?

10: Have you been to a concert?

11: Who’s your favorite duo?

12: Favorite cover/solo songs:

13: Favorite SKZOO?

14: If you had a day with one member what would you wanna do with them?

15: Who’s your favorite singing voice?

16: Who’s your favorite to watch dance?

17: Do you have a favorite SKZ Code?

18: Favorite MV?

19: Who do you think you’d be best friends with?

20: Let’s feed those delusions, Who are you picking for a date and what are you doing?

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lazyfacecowboy · 2 days ago

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mural of us ›››› hwang hyunjin

pairing: graffiti!artist!hyunjin x fem!reader genre: mural artist hyunjin au , slice of life, non-idol au, fluff synopsis: he’s a graffiti artist leaving stunning murals around the town, and one day, you catch him in the act—and find yourself becoming his muse. warning/s: none (?) word count: 2.9k

🤍 masterlist: the library ✨📚 ❤️ stray kids masterlist

The city buzzes with life, but it’s the art scattered across its streets that truly captivates you. Vibrant murals have begun appearing in unexpected places, transforming dull, forgotten walls into mesmerizing canvases. Each piece feels like a glimpse into another world—ethereal, intricate, and brimming with emotion.

What draws you in the most is the style. There’s something unmistakable about it: the way the colors flow seamlessly, the tiny details you only notice upon closer inspection, and the way every mural seems to tell a story. You’ve begun to recognize the signature, too—a simple yet enigmatic tag tucked discreetly into the corners of each masterpiece: Orion.

The first mural you saw was almost by accident. It adorned the weathered side of an old bakery in your neighborhood, a business you rarely noticed before. But that day, you stopped in your tracks. Spanning the length of the building was a massive field of wildflowers, painted in such vivid detail that it felt almost alive.

Each petal seemed to quiver in an unseen breeze, their colors shifting from soft pastel hues to bursts of golden sunlight. The sky above them wasn’t the typical blue you’d expect; instead, it was a kaleidoscope of soft lavender and peach, like the fleeting moments of dawn. There was a peace to it, a stillness that felt almost sacred.

You remember standing there, transfixed, your breath catching as you took in the scene. The faint aroma of bread and pastries wafted from the bakery door, blending with the faint smell of fresh paint still lingering in the air. You could hear the distant hum of cars on the main road, but at that moment, the mural was the only thing that mattered.

Pulling out your phone, you snapped a picture, unable to resist capturing the beauty of it. But even as you admired the photo later, something felt missing. The image couldn’t capture the way the mural made you feel—calm, grounded, and inexplicably hopeful.

That was the day something shifted. The mural stayed with you, a quiet pull in the back of your mind. You started paying more attention to your surroundings, hoping to stumble upon another one of Orion’s works.

At first, it was casual—a glance here, a quick detour there—but over time, it grew into something more. Wandering the city became a quiet ritual, an escape from the monotony of your routine. With each alleyway, overpass, or side street you explored, you found yourself wondering if Orion had been there before you, leaving behind another piece of his story.

Finding his murals turned into a scavenger hunt, each discovery feeling like uncovering a hidden treasure.

A few weeks later, your quiet routine leads you to another one of Orion’s works, this time on the side of a community center nestled in a bustling part of town. The scene stops you in your tracks, just as the first one did, but in an entirely different way.

It’s an ocean, vast and untamed, stretching across the entire wall. The waves curl with a mesmerizing ferocity, painted in rich hues of turquoise and sapphire. Thin streaks of gold glint across the water’s surface, as if the setting sun has spilled its light directly onto the waves. But it’s not just the ocean that holds your attention.

At the center of it all stands a lone figure—a woman, small and delicate against the enormity of the sea. She stands barefoot on the shoreline, her posture hesitant, almost as if she’s caught between two worlds. Her toes just barely graze the edge of the water, and her hands hang by her sides, unsure whether to reach forward or pull back.

The details are striking. You notice the faint lines of tension in her shoulders, and the way her hair is blown to the side by an unseen wind. Even though her face isn’t fully visible, the emotions embedded in her silhouette are unmistakable.

There’s something achingly human about it, as if the mural has captured a moment of vulnerability that everyone has felt but rarely speaks of.

You step closer, your breath catching. The sound of the city fades into the background as you study the interplay of colors, the way the waves seem almost alive, as though they might surge forward and spill out of the mural itself.

The longer you look, the more you feel the pull of the ocean—its depth, its beauty, its danger. And the woman’s hesitance resonates with something deep inside you.

You linger there, lost in thought, until the sun begins to dip lower in the sky. Even as you walk away, the image stays with you, etched into your mind like a memory.

By now, Orion’s name has started to gain traction beyond just the murals. Social media is buzzing with posts about his work, with locals eagerly sharing sightings and speculating about who he might be. Some say he’s a professional artist moonlighting as a graffiti rebel. Others think he’s an ordinary person with an extraordinary gift.

But none of the rumors interest you as much as the art itself. Orion’s murals feel personal in a way that’s hard to explain. Each piece seems to echo thoughts and emotions you didn’t realize you had. It’s as though he’s painting not just for the city, but for you.

Over time, Orion’s murals seem to multiply, popping up in unexpected places as if the city itself is his canvas. You start to notice them in every corner of your daily life—on the side of a train station, hidden beneath an overpass, even on the back of an old factory.

Each one feels like a secret waiting to be discovered, and you find yourself seeking them out whenever you have a free moment. It’s not enough to just stumble upon them anymore; you’ve become invested, almost like a collector chasing the next addition to your mental gallery.

One weekend, as you wander through the quieter parts of town, you turn a corner and find a smaller mural tucked into a narrow alleyway. It’s so unassuming that you almost miss it, but the burst of color draws your eye.

It’s a bird perched on a slender branch, its feathers painted in a breathtaking array of blues and greens. The strokes are so precise that you can almost see the texture of each plume. Tiny stars are scattered across its wings, so subtle that you have to lean in to notice them.

The bird’s expression is oddly serene, its eyes bright with life. It feels almost magical, as if it might take flight at any moment.

A smile tugs at your lips as you crouch down to examine the mural more closely. The stars hidden in its feathers shimmer faintly in the light, adding an otherworldly quality to the piece.

“That one’s new,” a voice startles you. You glance up to see an older man walking by, his hands tucked into the pockets of a faded coat.

“Showed up last night,” he continues, nodding toward the mural. “Must’ve been him again.”

You nod in agreement, but your mind is already swirling with questions. How does Orion choose his locations? Does he scout them out during the day, waiting for the perfect moment? Or does inspiration strike him randomly, drawing him out under the cover of night?

The idea of him working in the shadows, slipping through the city unnoticed, only adds to his mystique. You can almost picture it: a figure moving with quiet precision, a spray can in hand, the sound of his work blending into the hum of the city around him.

As you step back to admire the mural one last time, you feel a spark of something new—curiosity, yes, but also a growing sense of connection. Orion isn’t just an artist; he’s a storyteller, and you’re beginning to realize that his stories have become a part of your life.

Weeks blend into one another, and Orion’s work becomes a quiet constant in your life. You’ve grown accustomed to seeking out his murals, their beauty an escape from the mundane rhythm of your days. Each new discovery feels like finding a piece of a puzzle, though you’re still unsure what the final picture might be.

Then, one evening, everything changed.

The sun has long since set, and the streets are bathed in the warm glow of streetlights. You’re walking home, the events of a long day weighing heavily on your shoulders, when a faint sound pulls you from your thoughts.

It’s subtle at first—the soft hiss of a spray can break the stillness of the evening. Your footsteps falter, curiosity sparking to life as you scan the area.

The sound grows louder as you turn the corner, your pulse quickening with anticipation. And then you see him.

He’s crouched in front of a half-finished mural, his silhouette framed by the streetlight above. The scene on the wall is already mesmerizing—an abstract swirl of colors that seems to dance and shift as he works. His hand moves with practiced ease, adding a streak of vibrant orange to the composition.

For a moment, you’re rooted to the spot, torn between staying hidden and stepping forward. He seems so focused, so absorbed in his craft, that you’re reluctant to break the spell.

But then, as if sensing your presence, he pauses. His head tilts slightly, and his gaze shifts in your direction.

Your breath catches as his eyes meet yours. In the stillness that follows, time seems to stretch. You’re acutely aware of everything—the faint smell of paint, the distant hum of traffic, the weight of his gaze.

Slowly, he stands, lowering the spray can to his side. He pulls back his hood, and though the shadows obscure part of his face, his expression is calm, almost amused.

“You’ve been following my work,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet confidence.

The statement catches you off guard. “I… yeah,” you admit, your words tumbling out awkwardly. “It’s beautiful.”

His lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “Thanks. Now, are you going to call the cops, or are you just going to stand there?”

The teasing lilt in his voice draws you out of your momentary stupor. “I’m not calling the cops!” you exclaim, a little louder than you intended.

A soft laugh escapes him, the sound warm and unexpected. “Good,” he says, his tone lighter now. “That’s a relief.”

That night becomes a turning point, though you don’t realize it at first.

After your brief encounter, you start noticing him more often. At first, it seems like a coincidence—crossing paths in an alleyway or spotting him finishing up a mural just as you arrive. But over time, the line between chance and intention begins to blur.

He tells you his name eventually: Hyunjin. It feels strange at first, attaching something so ordinary to someone who seems anything but. Yet, he insists on keeping Orion for his art. “It’s not about me,” he says one night. “It’s about the story.”

Little by little, he lets you into his world. You watch him work, marveling at the precision and passion he pours into every stroke. His movements are fluid, almost like a dance, and his focus is magnetic.

“Why murals?” you ask him once, your voice cutting through the quiet of the night.

He glances at you, his gaze thoughtful. “Because walls hold everything,” he says. “History, memories, emotions. They’ve seen everything, and painting on them feels like giving them a voice.”

You notice he never explains his pieces outright, preferring to let people interpret them as they wish. “Art isn’t about answers,” he tells you one evening, his hands smudged with paint. “It’s about questions. The ones you didn’t even know you had.”

But there are moments when his guard slips, when the weight behind his words becomes palpable.

One night, as he works on a sprawling mural of constellations swirling across a deep midnight sky, he pauses to look at you. The stars he’s painted seem to shimmer under the dim light, their glow almost lifelike.

“Do you ever wonder,” he begins softly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence, “what people see when they look at you?”

The question catches you off guard. You blink, searching for a response, but before you can speak, he continues.

“Because I think you’re the kind of person who brings light to the darkest places.”

His words hang in the air, and you feel your cheeks heat under his steady gaze. You look away, unsure how to respond, your heart racing in a way that feels both thrilling and terrifying.

In that moment, surrounded by his art, you realize something has shifted—not just in the way you see him, but in the way he sees you.

As weeks pass, something shifts between you and Hyunjin. His murals, once a canvas of abstract emotion, begin to feature small, subtle nods to you. At first, it’s easy to miss—an intricate star-shaped flower tucked into the corner of a painting, or a silhouette that could be mistaken for the curve of your profile.

You’ve always noticed the details in his work, but now it feels different. More personal. It’s as if, with each piece, he’s leaving little breadcrumbs for you to follow, inviting you deeper into his world. But he never acknowledges it, not directly. His eyes might flicker to you briefly as you admire his latest mural, but he remains silent, a quiet observer of your reactions.

You know, though. You know what he’s doing. The connection is undeniable.

One day, he suggests an adventure.

“Come with me,” he says, voice light but with an undercurrent of something more serious. “I want to show you something.”

You agree without hesitation, curiosity and something else—something that feels warmer than you expect—spurring you forward.

Hyunjin leads you to an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city. The building seems forgotten, its walls weathered and worn, but inside… it’s like stepping into another world. The air smells of paint and possibility, and the walls are alive with color, each mural more stunning than the last.

You wander through the space, eyes wide as you take in the emotion dripping from every brushstroke, every spray of color. There’s a rawness to his art here, more intimate than anything you’ve seen before. Some pieces are soft, others fierce, but all of them speak of longing, of hope, of silent battles and quiet victories.

As you move deeper into the warehouse, your gaze lands on one mural in particular. It’s in the farthest corner, almost hidden from view, as if Hyunjin wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see it.

It’s a portrait of a girl standing amidst a swirling galaxy of stars. Her face is radiant with joy, her arms spread wide as though she’s embracing the infinite. The stars around her seem to pulse with life, the galaxies intertwining to create something breathtaking.

But it’s the details that stop your breath.

Upon closer inspection, you notice that the constellations aren’t just random—they’re carefully arranged, spelling out words in the sky. There’s a phrase tucked into the corner of the piece, so small and delicate that it could be easily overlooked.

Will you be my star?

Your heart skips a beat, and you slowly turn to Hyunjin, your eyes wide with wonder. His hands are smudged with paint, his usual confident posture replaced with a quiet vulnerability. He’s watching you intently, as if waiting for your reaction, but there’s a nervous edge to his gaze.

“Well?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What do you think?”

You step closer to him, feeling the warmth of his presence and the weight of the unspoken words between you. Your heart is pounding, your thoughts a whirlwind as you search for the right words. The question he’s asking isn’t just about the mural—it’s about something deeper, something that makes your chest tighten with emotion.

For a moment, you just look at him, really look at him. His eyes are filled with hope, but also with the quiet fear of someone who’s exposed too much of themselves. The vulnerability in his gaze pulls you in, your own feelings mirrored in the rawness of the moment.

And then you smile, softly, teasingly. “Only if you promise to let me keep admiring your work up close.”

His eyes light up, the tension in his shoulders melting as he lets out a quiet laugh. It’s a sound full of relief, the kind that comes from finally letting go of something heavy.

“Deal,” he says, his voice a little breathless. “I promise.”

You step closer, closing the space between you, and for a moment, you both just stand there, surrounded by his art, surrounded by the quiet hum of everything unspoken. You feel a connection to him, to this place, to the stars in his mural. It’s all somehow tied together, a knot you can’t quite untangle but don’t want to.

He looks at you, his lips pulling into a small, tender smile. “You’re the only one who’s seen this,” he murmurs, his words more to himself than to you. “And now… you’re part of it.”

You reach out, gently brushing a streak of paint off his cheek, your fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary. “Then I’ll keep it safe,” you say softly. “And I’ll keep finding you.”

The moment lingers, heavy with promise and light with possibility, as you both stand in the midst of his art—his truth, his vulnerability—realizing that, somehow, you’ve become part of it too.

find me on: 🧡 wp: goldenrai ✏️📖 🩵 tiktok: raixyne 🎥🎶

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