#btsparents

[magic-shop-stories]

Checkered Sunshine & Neon Rainbows (2)

Summary: Lumi crashes BTS rehearsal, turning choreo into comedy, starting debates on home decor, and surviving Jin’s snack-based love language. J-Hope, ever the supportive dad, balances discipline with letting them be their chaotic, artistic self—until their dopamine-driven brain demands a trip to Dongdaemun. Shopping chaos is incoming!

Chapters

1 ; 2 ; 3

Chapter 2: Practice, Paint, and Peach Iced Tea

Warnings: ADHD energy, chaotic kid antics, mild swearing, extreme amounts of glitter

Rating: G (AU, Fluff, Comedy, Parent)

Genre: BTS AU, Parent, Slice of Life, Fluff with Feelings, Soft Angst, Found Family

Word count: ~ 900

Chapter 2: Practice, Paint, and Peach Iced Tea

Lumi’s mismatched Vans tapped impatiently against the studio floor as J-Hope adjusted his headband, shooting them a behave glare that they promptly ignored. The BTS rehearsal space buzzed with warm-up stretches and half-hearted debates about lunch orders. But the second the members spotted Lumi leaning against the mirrored wall, chaos erupted.

“LUMMMIIII!” Jungkook launched across the room first, nearly tripping over his sweatpants to ruffle their orange-streaked hair. “Where’s my frog painting? You promised!”

“It’s drying, Uncle Koo,” they laughed, dodging his noogie attempt. “You can’t rush art.”

Jimin swooped in next, squishing their cheeks. “Look at this outfit. Are you trying to outshine us?” He gestured at their rainbow sweater vest, star-patched jeans, and glittering gummy bear necklace. “Stealing your appa’s drip, huh?”

“It’s called collaboration,” Lumi retorted, sticking out their tongue.

Jin materialized with a bag of strawberry gummies. “Eat. You’re skinnier than Yoongi’s patience.”

“Yah!” Yoongi didn’t look up from his water bottle, but his lips twitched. “Keep the chaos contained, Hob-ah. Last time they ‘helped’ with choreography, I found glitter in my shoes for weeks.”

“Glitter’s a lifestyle, Uncle Yoongi,” Lumi chirped, popping a gummy into their mouth.

---

Rehearsals began, and Lumi melted into the back corner, subtly mirroring the choreo for Dynamite. At first, they matched J-Hope’s steps perfectly—sharp, precise, all sunshine energy. But by the second run-through, their ADHD brain kicked in. They started improvising: adding exaggerated arm waves, a cheeky body roll during Namjoon’s verse, and a freestyle frog-hop move that had Jimin snort-laughing mid-spin.

“Yah, Lumi-ya!” J-Hope fake-scolded, sweat dripping down his neck. “Are you mocking me?”

“Never!” they gasped, batting their green-lined eyes. “Just… evolving the art!”

Taehyung threw them a water bottle. “Next tour, you’re our backup dancer. Namjoon-hyung can’t two-step to save his life.”

“I heard that!” Namjoon called from the speakers, but he was grinning.

---

During the break, Jin reappeared with a grande strawberry-peach iced tea, straw already pierced. “For the artist,” he announced, bowing dramatically.

Lumi seized it like a lifeline. “Marry me, Uncle Jin.”

“Tempting, but your appa would cry. Besides marrying is Yoongi's job.”

J-Hope flopped onto the floor beside them, towelling off his hair. “Speaking of art… Guess who painted their bedroom wall checkerboard yesterday?”

The room erupted.

“Without asking?” Jimin gasped, clutching his chest. “Rebellious phase! Finally!”

Yoongi pointed at J-Hope’s paint-stained sneakers. “And you helped? Parenting fails.”

“It was symbolic!” Lumi protested, waving their iced tea. “The three ‘wrong’ squares represent, like… breaking societal norms or whatever.”

Namjoon nodded solemnly. “Deep. Very Banksy of you.”

Taehyung fake-whispered to Jungkook, “Next they’ll graffiti Yoongi’s studio.”

“I’ll disown you all,” Yoongi deadpanned.

---

By 3 PM, Lumi’s energy was a live wire. They’d danced through every song, redesigned Jin’s shoelaces into “abstract art,” and rambled nonstop about dopamine decor. But as the group debated the bridge of Butter, J-Hope noticed their leg jiggling wildly, their fingers twisting a frog ring round and round.

“Wrap it up,” he called abruptly, cutting off Jungkook’s drumming experiment. “We’ll pick this up Monday.”

The members followed his gaze to Lumi, now pacing by the mirrors, muttering about “neon hexagons” and “disco ball terrariums.”

“Go,” Jin shooed them, smirking. “Before they short-circuit.”

---

Goodbyes were a blur of hair ruffles, promises to “stay safe” by Namjoon, and a fist bump from Jungkook - “Frog painting. Soon.”. Lumi practically vibrated into the passenger seat of J-Hope’s car, their rainbow socks glowing against the dashboard.

“Dongdaemun. Dongdaemun. Dongdaemun,” they chanted like a mantra, kicking their feet.

J-Hope started the engine, side-eyeing their neon-green eyeliner and the BT21 pin gleaming on their vest. “You know we’re just buying supplies, right? Not… burning down the mall?”

“Appa.” They grinned, buckling their seatbelt with a click. “I make no promises.”

As they pulled onto the highway, Lumi cranked up Halsey’s I am not a woman, I’m a god, singing off-key and air-drumming. J-Hope let them ride the dopamine high, stealing glances at their reflection—paint still clinging to their hairline, freckles smudged with glitter, alive and unstoppable.

Their mother’s smile. His chaos. Perfect.

[magic-shop-stories]

Checkered Sunshine & Neon Rainbows (1)

J-Hope never planned on single dad life, but Lumi—his chaotic, paint-covered, ADHD whirlwind of a kid—makes every day an adventure. Between BTS schedules and impulsive DIY projects, their home is a mess of colour, music, and love. And no matter how many walls get repainted, some things—like family and finding joy in the chaos—are permanent.

Chapters:

1 ; 2 ; 3

Chapter 1: Orange Hair, Orange Walls

Warnings: Mild language, grief mention (loss of a parent), ADHD & neurodivergence themes, chaotic redecorating.

Rating: General

Genre: BTS AU, Parent, Slice of Life, Fluff with Feelings, Soft Angst, Found Family

Pairings: None (Parent-Child Relationship)

Featuring: Single Dad J-Hope, ADHD!Lumi, chaotic home projects, lots of paint, and heartwarming family moments.

Word count: ~720

Chapter 1: Orange Hair, Orange Walls

The front door clicked shut, and J-Hope sighed, shrugging off his jacket as the faint smell of acrylic paint hit him before he’d even reached the stairs. Weird. His rehearsals had run late—BTS’s upcoming tour prep was relentless—but he’d texted Lumi three hours ago. They’d replied with a single frog emoji, which he’d learned long ago could mean anything from “I’m alive!” to “I’ve adopted six snails from the garden.”

He paused outside their bedroom door, hearing nothing but the muffled thump of Halsey’s Nightmare through the walls. Then he pushed it open.

“Lumi-ya—”

The scene was chaos.

Their pristine beige room—the one he’d helped design, all minimalist shelves and trailing pothos plants—looked like a rainbow had detonated. Newspapers carpeted the floor, splattered with orange paint. A half-finished checkerboard wall glared back at him, blue painter’s tape peeling at the edges. And in the centre of it all, Lumi lay starfished on the floor, orange-streaked hair fanning out like a neon halo, their oversized denim overalls (his, stolen last week) splotched with paint. A frog-shaped ring glinted on their thumb as they drummed it absently against the floor.

“Hi, Appa,” they said, not moving. Their voice was bright but edged with the shaky hyperactivity he recognized—ADHD brain in overdrive after hours alone.

J-Hope blinked. “Did you… ask to redecorate?”

“I texted you!” They sat up abruptly, pulling out their phone. A screenshot flashed—a 2 PM message buried under his notifications. Lumi: gonna fix my walls. Boring. Will clean after pinky swear!!!

“Lumi. Aigoo.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, but the corners of his mouth twitched. The checkerboard was… oddly satisfying. Beige and burnt orange, crisp lines (mostly), though one square near the window was smudged where they’d clearly gotten distracted.

They scrambled up, eyes wide and pleading behind smudged graphic liner—electric blue today, with tiny glittering frogs stamped at the corners. “It’s dopamine style, Appa! Look—” They grabbed their tablet, pulling up a Pinterest board titled ROOM = BRAIN? “See? Checkerboards, rugs, neon signs! I’ll paint the furniture too—look, we can use foil for the dresser, and I’ll make plant pots shaped like frogs—”

“You painted the walls,” he interrupted, trying to sound stern. But they were bouncing now, words spilling out like a shaken soda can.

“I protected the floor! And the tape’s removable! And I’ll fix the smudges and—oh! Look.” They darted to the wall, pointing at a crooked square. “I thought… maybe three ‘wrong’ squares? Pink, blue, green? Like… rebelling against the grid?” Their voice softened, hesitant. “It’s… dumb?”

J-Hope’s chest tightened. They’d gotten that look from their mom—the slight pout, the way their freckles creased when they bit their lip. Six years since the accident, and still, he saw her in every flicker of their bravery.

He grabbed a spare brush from the paint tray. “Pink here,” he said, tapping the smudged square. “Blue… there. Green in that corner.”

Lumi’s grin could’ve powered Seoul’s neon signs.

---

Two hours later, the checkered wall stood complete, three “off” squares glowing like hidden gems. J-Hope sat cross-legged on the newspapered floor, orange paint streaking his sweatpants, as Lumi rambled about disco ball planters and a rug shaped like a giant sunflower.

“And we can hang my vinyls here—I’ll paint the edges rainbow! And the window—imagine the bottom pane gradient like…” They mimed exploding colours with their hands, nearly knocking over a paint can.

He caught it, laughing. “Tomorrow. After rehearsals. We’ll hit Dongdaemun for supplies.”

“Really?” They launched into a hug, their strawberry-iced tea scent mixing with acrylic.

“But you,” he poked their nose, leaving an orange dot, “...are explaining to Yoongi why I’m covered in paint.”

They snorted. “Uncle Yoongi wishes he had my aesthetic.”

Downstairs, the doorbell rang—takeout tteokbokki, extra cheese, no spice. As they clattered down, Lumi’s laughter echoed off the half-transformed walls, and J-Hope paused, staring at the vibrant chaos.

Their mother would’ve loved it.