#c:woojin

stray kids icons–– woojin + chan

♥︎ for anon ♥︎

FOR: @gucciwrites​

For everything that people from her world did, Soohyun was he one that tried to make up for it. She was a strong believer in karma and balance and her kind heart made it impossible for her to wish bad upon her family. So at least if she did some good in the world perhaps she could give her good karma as credit to her family and friends that did nothing. This was her new volunteer work. It was all she did with her time, jumping from one to another while trying to start up her nonprofit. With the difficulties befalling her family she couldn’t help but think it was due to exploitation or something of that sort. So here she was, trying to bring them some good vibes. Eyes closed in front of the hospital, she prayed quietly to the universe to let these good deeds go to her father rather than her. 

Jamie had spent the night at Joon’s and he didn’t tell Woojin about it. He assumed his cousin would think he stayed at the hospital and he figured he wouldn’t be worried. Granted, in that moment, he had no idea Joon had texted him the night before, but it wasn’t like it mattered because Jamie was going to tell him anyways. Specially because once he showered and made sure he looked decent enough, he would have his first date. So he would need Woojin’s help, even if his dating background was absolutely horrible.

“Thank God you’re here” Jamie exclaimed when he entered their apartment, smiling at him. “I’m about to throw a lot of information at you so make sure you listen carefully to each one of my words” Jamie warned him, smiling like a fool since he hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time.

Gwen: You tried to color my face with a highlighter because you said I was important.

Sean: What? You're crazy! I know plenty.

Dohan: What color are her eyes?

Sean: The color of the ocean after a storm.

Woojin: Which is?

@adwoojin

it’s half past four a.m. when she parts from the building, a willowy profile against subdued lamp light and the smudged cascade of moon. it’s only in the low light she’s ever truly alone, walking her ghosts like prized possessions, walking the street as if an outsider. this time, death follows her – blood, stitches, and death – the former having been a healer’s attempt, the latter a purposeful abandonment ( superficially wounded soldiers filter out. a woman and her team, alike only in profession, relieve three men of their pains. death feasts tonight ). after, she’d been meticulous about the stain, about sheets bloated with human substance and dark wine-like fluid drooling from raw cadavers. after, she’d honoured their memory by scratching their name, robbing their identity, burning bodies so only their spirits remained because such people will not be discovered, such people are not wealthy enough for lavish funerals. such people cannot afford to be enemies of the tigers. but the wicked && scrupulous – they’re all the same, at the end of the day. there’s no rest for either. 

the darkness comes in pieces, soojin pocketing a handful, fingers combing through supple wind when a fleet of lights guarding the entrance rouse awake, flinging unkind and harsh shadows across the pavement. the masked raccoon secreted in the shrubs glowers at her intrusion, though soojin shares the same discontent. here, she trusts in muscle memory to navigate toward the mailboxes, hidden deep around the corner, and the blurry visioned and tired woman eyes the parcels she’s been neglecting for over a week. 

slowly, lazily, letters claimed by her grasp stack upon a box, then clapped loosely between her hands, && it’s almost mechanical the way arms move, feet shuffle, motion which would betray awareness if her gaze isn’t already so careened toward pitted slumber, weariness gloving her fingertips. then, a drip of sound; her keys dive onto the floor but there’s something else, someone she hadn’t seemed to observe. her attention snatches on him, a queenfish to hook and line. a man, piloting her interest: seo woojin, who still haunts her. 

R E L A T I O N S H I P   M O O D B O A R D : Woo Hyuntae + In Woojin (1/?)

Assim que Sungjin avistou o bolo, seus olhos cintilaram, imediatamente levantando-se da cama para receber o mais velho. -- Woojin hyung, você lembrou do meu aniversário! -- Ele falou, alegre, alternando o olhar entre o rosto de Woojin e o bolo que parecia tão gostoso, confeitado daquela maneira com tanto cuidado. -- E você também lembrou do meu bolo favorito! -- Fez questão de ressaltar, rindo. -- Aigo, você é mesmo um coração mole, fico até sem jeito com um hyung tão dedicado! -- Falou enquanto passava o dedo pela cobertura, com um sonoro “hmmm” de aprovação. -- Komawo, Woonnie~!